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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #65198 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65198)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 5, November
-1841, by Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Graham's Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 5, November 1841
-
-Author: Various
-
-Editor: George R. Graham
-
-Release Date: April 30, 2021 [eBook #65198]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada
- team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net from page images generously
- made available by the Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, VOL. XIX, NO.
-5, NOVEMBER 1841 ***
- GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
- Vol. XIX. November, 1841. No. 5.
-
-
- Contents
-
- Fiction, Literature and Articles
-
- The Ghost of Chew’s Wall
- The Rowsevillers.—No. II
- The Reefer of ’76
- The Interesting Stranger
- Shakspeare.—No. III
- Wiccónsat
- The Moonlight Flitting
- A Chapter on Autography
- The King’s Bride
- Indian Traditions.—No. II
- Sports and Pastimes.—The Fowling-Piece
- Review of New Books
-
- Poetry, Music and Fashion
-
- The Pet Lamb
- Flight of the Birds
- Il Serenado di Venice
- Ephemera
- With Thee
- Sonnets
- I Never Have Been False to Thee
- Merry England
- Marriage
- Never Shall My Heart Forget Thee!
- Latest Fashions, November 1841
-
- Transcriber’s Notes can be found at the end of this eBook.
-
- * * * * *
-
-[Illustration: Eng. by H. S. Sadd, N.Y., _The Pet Lamb_ _Engraved
-expressly for Graham’s Magazine_]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- * * * * *
-
- GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
-
- Vol. XIX. PHILADELPHIA: NOVEMBER, 1841. No. 5.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE PET LAMB.
-
-
- BY ALEXANDER A. IRVINE.
-
-
- I saw her in her artlessness
- All innocent and free,
- And playfully a favored lamb
- She fondled on her knee—
- She seemed a vision of a dream,
- A glory passing bright,
- A being clothed in loveliness
- As angels are in light!
-
- Her tresses sported round about
- Her snowy brow divine,
- As flowers of the daffodil
- Embrace a virgin shrine,—
- Such purity was nestled there,
- A Sybil’s it might be,
- Forever beaming placidly
- As starlight down at sea!
-
- Her smile it had a witchery
- To mortal ones unknown,
- A language in its mirthfulness
- Beyond a seraph’s tone:
- It was as if the soul had come
- From out its deep recess
- And chose a dwelling in her eyes,
- So pure their loveliness!
-
- And softly on her pearly cheek
- The dewy lashes lay;
- Her lips were parted temptingly
- To woo the breeze to stay;
- Her snowy neck all droopingly
- Defied the lily’s grace;
- Her dimpled mouth—I dreamt of heav’n
- In gazing on that face!
-
- She fondled artlessly her pet;
- She raised his tiny feet;
- And toyed the garland on his neck;
- And soothed him, when he bleat,
- So sweetly that I might not hear
- Unmoved that silver tone,
- But longed to leave my hiding place
- And woo her for my own.
-
- A shot re-echoed through the wood,
- I saw the smoky wreath—
- The lamb was bleeding in her lap
- The glancing ball beneath—
- I sprang and raised the sufferer
- And staunched the ebbing tide,
- And carefully I bound the wound,
- And sat me by her side.
-
- I quieted her quick alarm,
- I gently soothed her fears,
- And o’er the dying favorite
- We mingled tears with tears:
- I shared her grief, and calmed her woe,
- And blamed the sportsman rude—
- She raised her swimming eyes to mine
- And smiled her gratitude.
-
- She faintly smiled and dropped her gaze,
- Her passive hand I took,
- No word was spoke, we only heard
- The murmur of the brook;
- Her gaze was on the murdered lamb,
- Her heart was strangely moved—
- She sighed, and oh! the loss she felt,
- The void where once she loved.
-
- Again I soothed her maiden grief,
- And sighed whene’er she sighed,
- And with such winning sympathy
- Her starting tears I dried,—
- And when she ceased I sighed myself,
- And she besought to know
- All artlessly and innocent
- The secret of my woe.
-
- I told her it was all herself,
- That I had paused to gaze,
- And that her witching loveliness
- Would sadden all my days;
- And then I sighed, and looked away,
- And told her how I grieved,
- Not for myself, but for the pang
- Her gentle heart received.
-
- I asked her but to pity me,
- And told my grief to part—
- Her fingers trembled, and I heard
- The beating of her heart,
- And all dissolved in sympathy
- She yielded to my side—
- Was ever virgin love as thine?
- My Rosalie, my bride!
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE GHOST OF CHEW’S WALL;
-
-
- A LEGEND OF GERMANTOWN.
-
-
- BY OLIVER OLDFELLOW.
-
-
-When a man becomes so far lost to a sense of self-importance, as not
-only to tell, but actually to _write stories_,—thus recording his
-turpitude in black and white—it is not to be presumed that slight
-consequences will deter him from his purpose. Indeed, it is rather to be
-supposed that he has made up his mind to despise public opinion, and to
-brave all indignation. His hand is sure to follow as his pen may lead,
-and whatever he may _resolve_, when the story is written, it is, somehow
-or other, sure to find its way into print. The best motives of a writer
-may therefore be mistaken, or his strongest resolves puffed to the winds
-by a single breath, so that it may well be supposed in what a
-predicament we were, when we found our best intentions frustrated, and
-had to encounter the wrath and tobacco smoke of our German neighbors,
-and were obliged to write this apologetic introduction, and all through
-a villanous blunder of our greedy devil.
-
-The facts are these. We sat down, a few evenings since, after enjoying a
-comfortable cup of pure Java,—which we still continue to enjoy,
-notwithstanding the anathemas of a fellow with a villanous name, of
-“bran bread” repute,—to commit to paper a few notes of a conversation
-which we had with a relative long since. Having unluckily fallen into a
-doze, our devil, who had been going about for more than an hour roaring
-for copy, took a peep into the sanctum, and, seeing how matters stood,
-slipt off the following article, “in the crack o’ a thumb,” by way of
-filling up an odd form, which, in an unlucky fit of liberality, we had
-resolved to squeeze into the present number. It may well be supposed
-that, before we had fairly rubbed our eyes open, the _matter_ was blown
-to the world, and a whole avalanche of country cousins, who hail from
-Germantown, were down upon us. Of course we said at once that the
-article was not ours, as no man can be expected to acknowledge his guilt
-until it is proved upon him. This, however, did not satisfy them,
-although they professed to have no difficulty in believing it, for they
-continued to smoke their pipes with such fury, and swore so stoutly in
-real jaw-breaking Dutch—for every mother’s son is German, even to the
-cut of his pantaloons—that we were glad to get off upon the condition
-of making a handsome apology, which we think we have now fully done.
-
-Among the many delightful villages in Pennsylvania, which owe their
-origin to German settlers, and maintain, amid surrounding improvements,
-the unchanged marks of ancestry, there is none more prominent than
-Germantown. It is but half an hour’s drive from Philadelphia, extending
-along the main road for more than two miles, with, for the most part,
-old-fashioned stone houses, which date prior to the revolution,
-sprinkled plenteously on both sides of the road, forming a village of
-most unconscionable length, but—like the pockets of most dandies of the
-present day—with no depth or body to support its extensive pretensions.
-It is famous in history, as being the ground of a battle during the
-struggle for independence, in which victory, though for a time doubtful,
-declared for the enemy, in consequence of the incompetency of an
-American officer. The present inhabitants are mostly the descendants of
-German families—true sprigs of the old branches, imitating most of the
-virtues of their forefathers, indulging in no luxuries, pursuing a rigid
-economy, and clinging with an unyielding regard to the money bequeathed
-them. Nor is this regard in any degree weakened by the devices of those
-who have recently settled in the village, and who vainly hope by
-improving their houses, fitting up their grounds, and clipping and
-beautifying their shrubbery, to induce an imitation of their example.
-The old-roof tree stands, as it stood half a century ago, and the very
-stones of the building, from between which the mortar has in many cases
-long since dropped, grin defiance on the passer by, who dares to harbor
-a thought of improvement or repair. The owner is content to _live_ as
-his ancestors lived, but would like to _die_ a little richer. The
-patrimony, amassed by the hand of unceasing toil, is religiously
-bequeathed from sire to son, together with the peculiar habits of
-thought and the superstitious sentiments of an age gone by. In many
-cases no education has been suffered to weaken or invade, and in others
-has been so slight as only to harmonize the mind with the general
-character of the place, which at best seems to belong more to a past
-generation than to the present. From these causes, things which better
-tutored minds scout with scorn, in the one case, are held as true as
-matters of religious belief, and in the other are only doubted, not
-disbelieved. In fact so thoroughly does superstition, and the gross
-follies which an intercourse with the world and education always dispel,
-prevail, that many of the inhabitants can tell you to a nicety when
-there will be a change of weather, by the belligerent attitude in which
-the moon turns up her horns when she grows restive, and that there will
-be company when the cat licks her paws, when a fork sticks up in the
-floor, or when the old cock brushes up his feathers and crows in the
-door-way. There are others who go still deeper into mysteries of this
-sort, and can predict to you a birth, a marriage, or a death, by the
-kinks in a cow’s tail; but as they are entirely beyond our depth, and
-seem to have this knowledge all to themselves, it may be well not to
-disturb them in their profound wisdom. Nevertheless, let no young man,
-who values the affections of any fair Dutch damsel in Germantown,
-venture to present her with a pair of scissors, unless he wishes to
-_cut_ the sentimental cord that binds her to him. Thus much we feel in
-duty bound to record as a warning to young gentlemen, as many a man has
-lost the confidence and affections of his lady love in consequence of
-less matters than a pair of scissors.
-
-It might be expected that a village so contiguous to a great city, would
-soon lose these distinctive marks of character, and that the
-extravagance, follies and vices of the metropolis would be generally
-imitated. Not so, however. With very little exception, the place is as
-entirely distinct as if it were miles in the interior. The moral mantle
-of Germanism seems to hang like a cloud over the place, and, blended
-with the superstition of the portion of inhabitants spoken of, there is
-a high-toned morality so imbedded in the hearts of the people, that
-honesty and a strict regard to truth, next to making money and keeping
-it, may be considered the great texts by which they live.
-
-It will easily be understood that among a people thus constituted, a
-_ghost_ has but to be _seen_ by one of their number, and his appearance
-announced, to be generally dreaded. If he has been _seen_, there is an
-end of all doubting, and the only thing thereafter to be done, is to
-keep out of his way. There will be no use, in such a case, to multiply
-arguments about him, but every man must take care of himself. And, what
-may seem a little singular, a good sound-minded, rational apparition
-will, in all cases, most delight to visit a people who pay him so much
-deference; taking especial care to show himself off frequently, and in
-all manner of ways, that there may be no doubt that he does exist in one
-shape or another, and having established the matter to his own
-satisfaction, that it is better to range the upper world, where he can
-be _seen_, than to dwell below in the dark, damp ground of the tomb,
-where he cannot be seen, where his very existence may be doubted, and
-where, at the best, the quarters are most uncomfortably chilly,—we say
-a sane ghost, under such circumstances, would naturally grow
-familiar—or rather _attempt_ to—and having sought out and established
-himself in comfortable quarters, and having enjoyed an oblivious nap
-during the day, would seek to regale himself in the evening, after his
-own will and pleasure, by little trips by moonlight, over the fields,
-around the old barns, and especially on the tops of the _stone
-fences_—if any there be—of the neighborhood. A ghost certainly has the
-right, if any _body_ has, of doing pretty much as he pleases, and of
-keeping out of the dust and gravel of a country side-walk, and of
-cutting up his antics, by way of recreation, on the top of a stone wall.
-At least these were the sentiments entertained by the ghost in question,
-and he took the liberty—unlike most politicians—of acting them out
-without regard to consequences.
-
-One morning, early in November, 18—, the inhabitants of the goodly
-village of Germantown were thrown into great consternation and dismay,
-by the important intelligence that a ghost had been seen the previous
-evening, perched upon Chew’s wall, dressed in white, and rattling a
-heavy chain, which some maintained he had been hung in, in consequence
-of some great crime. Some said that it was only a log-chain, which he
-intended to use, after his own fashion, on the first man he got in his
-clutches, while others, with a great show of reason, maintained that the
-chain was fastened around _his own ankle_, and that he was no less a
-_personage_ than the ghost of the dead soldier who had deserted from the
-British during the revolution, and was accidentally shot during the
-battle of Germantown, while a prisoner in a baggage-wagon, _as had been
-said_, but who, it was very likely, had been murdered during the heat of
-the fray, by some enemy in his own ranks—a rival in love, perhaps, or
-an heir to some estate, who wished him out of the way. Be all this as it
-may, the ghost had been _seen_ upon the wall, and he had a chain about
-him in some way, and some unheard of atrocity might confidently be
-looked for. The greatest mystery of the affair was that as soon as the
-rumor got on the wind, the man who had seen him was no where to be
-found, nor could any body tell who he was. Somebody _had_ seen him,
-however, and that was enough, and any inhabitant of Germantown would as
-soon have doubted the existence of sour-krout—a belief of which
-substantial proof was given daily—as to have felt the least incredulity
-in regard to the ghost.
-
-Of course all the inhabitants put on the gravest looks possible, and
-kept a sharp look-out, but still nearly a week passed and no tidings of
-a renewal of the visit of his ghostship occurred. Sunday morning came,
-and the matter was duly canvassed before the church door, prior to the
-arrival of the minister. A great many solemn shakes of the head and
-knowing winks were given on the subject. It was formally resolved that
-fires had better be kept burning in all the ovens for a fortnight,
-though it was pretty generally agreed that the ghost had been taken
-unawares, and that, whatever his business to that place might be, by
-keeping off the wall for a week, it was a pretty good sign that he did
-not want to show himself, and therefore he would be more cautious in
-future.
-
-The ghost, notwithstanding all these sage conclusions, resolved to have
-his own way in the matter, and accordingly made his appearance _that
-very evening_—not in white, nor in the form of a man, but in _black_,
-and running on all fours, like a hyena, on the top of the wall, and even
-proceeded so far as to throttle a very inoffensive person, and one who
-never could have had any thing to do with the murder—if indeed the
-apparition was the ghost of the murdered soldier. The facts of this
-encounter are these.
-
-Christopher Burger (such was the name of the person throttled) or
-“_Stoffel_ Burger,” as his German friends delighted to dub him in
-abbreviation, was a stout, square-built young fellow, of about
-twenty-two, who could do his day’s work, and dance the whole night
-through in the bargain, without thinking of fatigue. He had fallen in
-love, at a quilting party, with Miss Susan Hanz, a blooming Dutch damsel
-of seventeen summers; and, like a straight-forward business-like German,
-as he was, he resolved to make her his wife. She was, in fact, just the
-girl to inspire Christopher with the sentimental. Short, thick, and as
-elegantly shaped as a churn, with a full, round, saucy face, lighted up
-with a pair of brilliant black eyes, and with a foot, which, if it was
-_not_ one of the smallest, could go through “a straight four,” or, for
-that matter, if occasion required it, a regular “hoe down,” with a grace
-that actually made Christopher’s heart leap, as if it was going to jump
-out of his mouth. Nor were these her only claims to regard. The fair
-Susan was an only child, and her father had the reputation of possessing
-more than one stocking full of _the real currency_, carefully stowed
-away in the large walnut chest under the bed. Two or three broad farms
-also claimed ’Squire Hanz as owner, and spread themselves out very
-temptingly before the eager eyes of “Stoffel.” And then, what a hand at
-baking hot cakes!—his mouth actually watered at the thought. Added to
-all this, he well knew that if he succeeded in winning the heart of the
-fair Susan, no obstacle would be placed in the way of his happiness by
-the ’Squire. In this matter the ’Squire was exceedingly liberal; he
-imposed but one condition upon his daughter in relation to the man of
-her choice, and that was, that “he must be of a good German family.” To
-“_Stoffel_” there could be no objection on this score. His very name
-carried the recommendation with it. Moreover, the ’Squire had never had
-brother or sister, and therefore there were no rascally cousins to be
-mining the fortress in his absence. Had there been any, with stout
-purses in their fists, the matter would not have been quite so positive;
-for, as an _arrangement of convenience_, and to _keep the money_ from
-the hands of _grasping strangers_, every man in the village of which we
-write made it a point to marry his cousin—_if he could get her_—and,
-if the truth must be told, the strong voice of parental command was
-seldom wanting to strengthen his suit.
-
-Let it not be supposed, however, that a lady with such substantial
-claims had never been besieged with lovers. Such _had been_ the case.
-But “Stoffel” having so far outstripped his rivals as to attain the
-honor of _smoking a pipe alone_ with the ’Squire a few Sunday evenings
-previous to the time of which we write, the business was looked on as
-settled, and the whole bevy of Dutch beaux were off in the twinkling of
-an eye, like a flock of partridges when they have been shot at.
-
-Christopher, thus having “a fair field and _all_ the favor,” was not the
-man to neglect the advantage; so that, on the Sunday night in question,
-if an inquisitive eye had been placed at the key-hole of the ’Squire’s
-parlor door, he might have been _seen_, or _heard_, actually (we hope
-the ladies will skip this passage)—we say he might have been _seen_
-kissing Susan _in the dark_. Atrocious as this conduct was, however, on
-the part of “Stoffel,” we are bound, in recording a true narrative, to
-say that the lady was not to be frightened at trifles; so, instead of
-screaming out, and thus rousing the ’Squire and his blunderbuss, she
-took the matter coolly, and, resolving not to be outdone in civilities,
-gave him as good as he sent, and, throwing her arms around his neck,
-_kissed him_!! These, of course, are little attentions, on the part of
-lovers, which should not be wantonly, and without purpose, revealed to
-“the cold and heartless world,” and we only mention them to show that
-Christopher was a fellow with a pretty stout heart, and thus prepare our
-readers for the horrible outrage upon a brave man we are about to
-record. And considering, too, that all our lady readers have skipped the
-last passage, and are waiting breathlessly, we proceed.
-
-It was now past twelve o’clock—we are ashamed to record it—for
-Christopher, whatever wrong he committed in _going_ to the ’Squire’s
-every Sunday evening, when he _returned_, his conscience, on that score,
-was generally clear enough, as it was Sabbath no longer. We say it was
-past twelve, and Christopher set out for home. He had feasted on the
-best the ’Squire’s cellar afforded, and had made way with more than one
-mug of his best cider. The parting scene, on the part of Christopher,
-had been unusually tender. He was naturally an ardent lover, and the
-cider by no means decreased the strength of his attachment. He had used
-every argument to bring Susan to the point of acceptance—still she was
-coy. Yet Christopher was a man of discernment, and thought that a lady
-who would throw her arms around his neck and kiss him in the dark,
-(bless us! what will the ladies say to this?) could have no serious
-objection to him at bottom, and so, on the whole, he was in a very
-pleasant mood with himself, and with all _mankind_ and _womankind_ in
-the bargain, as gentlemen usually are when the lady has been kind, and
-the parting kiss has been freely given. He felt unusually _happy_, and
-could not restrain the kind feelings which bubbled up to his very lips
-and found vent in snatches of songs. He was rapidly approaching the
-wall—still he thought nothing of ghosts or hob-goblins, but was
-ruminating very intently upon the charms of the _substantial_ little
-Dutch beauty, and was going over in his mind, very pleasantly, her
-qualifications to make him a happy man. He might be said to be in that
-state, when a man is walking yet dreaming. He was picturing a neat stone
-house, with every _useful_ article of furniture bought and paid for, and
-with a horse and cow that he could call his own. Milk punch, too,
-naturally enough popped into his head, and then out again, to make room
-for thoughts of hot cakes swimming in butter. His song, however, still
-went on, as the music was not so difficult of execution as to require
-much thought in its performance—when the conclusion of a stanza seemed
-suddenly to have been frozen on his lips, and he started back with the
-ejaculation—
-
-“Mine Got! vat ish dat? der spooke—der divel!”
-
-The cause of his alarm the reader will understand, and so did “Stoffel.”
-He had heard it rumored that a ghost in white had been seen airing
-himself upon Chew’s wall, and he was not the man to scoff at rumor, and,
-even if he had been, there was the identical thing before him, slightly
-changed in appearance, it is true, not in white, nor sitting erect, but
-in black, running along the wall towards him, like a hyena or a bear;
-and, sure enough, as if to establish his character beyond the
-possibility of a doubt, _rattling his chain_ with a clangor truly
-appalling.
-
-In any other situation Christopher, perhaps, would have run, but in the
-present instance his limbs refused to do their work, his knees knocked
-together, his teeth set to chattering, and he seemed rooted to the spot.
-Nor can it be supposed that he was a coward, as we think the contrary
-has been clearly demonstrated in his valiant exploits in courting. The
-ghost, however, as if to settle the difficulty, to clear all doubt in
-the mind of Christopher, and to prevent any more profane exclamations,
-coolly descended from the wall, and before he knew where he was, knocked
-him down “with one blow of his _tail_,” as was afterwards affirmed.
-
-“So,” said the ghost, “your time has come to die!”
-
-“Mine Got, nay—I be’s—so young—and pin—tink—to git—marry,”
-chattered the horror-stricken Dutchman.
-
-“You are going to get married; ha! who do you think will have you?”
-
-“’Squire—Hanz—Sus, me tinks.”
-
-“When you marry her you will be a dead man,” said the ghost in a hollow,
-sepulchral voice, “and unless you stay away from ’Squire Hanz’s two
-months from this time, remember I have warned you! you are a dead man!
-Beware!” and having released his throat from a loving squeeze, vanished,
-as Christopher asserted, “in de ground.”
-
-When he arose, his brain whirled, and his memory was confused; the sun
-was just peeping over the hills, and a group of astonished neighbours
-were around him. Christopher told his story, and related the adventure
-exactly as it had occurred, excepting what related to Susan, that he
-kept close in his own bosom—why? we cannot say. Some believed him, but
-others, of the most knowing, shook their heads—guessed he had drank too
-freely of the ’Squire’s cider, and wondered how he knew “the ghost
-vanished in the ground when he was lying on his face in the dirt.”
-
-Christopher asserted, and swore Dutch to substantiate it, that he “had
-been _choked on the back of his neck_ until he saw stars,” and that
-after _that_ the ghost disappeared, and he knew nothing more of the
-matter until he found the mob around him.
-
-This was conclusive! And as the contagion spread, it was ascertained
-that the ghost had been exceedingly obliging, and had appeared in a
-variety of forms and costumes “to suit customers.” A stout troop of good
-wives roundly asserted that he had crossed the road in the form of a
-white calf, as they were proceeding to meeting, and that when they
-screamed out he disappeared. One had seen him in the habit of an old
-woman, dangling a great bunch of keys at her girdle, but it was plain he
-was no old woman at all from the whisker on one side of his face, which
-proved him to be the dead soldier. Moreover, he kept rattling the keys
-with tremendous fury, and held up his forefinger significantly; as much
-as to say “if you disturb me I’ll knock you down.”
-
-Another averred that as she was walking along, she heard a terrible
-flapping of wings, and looking up she saw, what at first appeared to be
-a flock of wild-geese, but they quickly changed into boys, and in an
-instant all vanished but one, and he was a man with a long white flowing
-robe, with which he took good care to cover his head, so that she could
-not see whether he had whiskers or no, and therefore could not say
-whether it was the dead soldier or not. In short, nearly all the _old_
-women had seen him, or had a ghost story to _tell_, which answered the
-same purpose, so that the good Dutchmen shook their heads to no purpose,
-for the more they shook them the more confused they became.
-
-The consequence was, that after the existence of the ghost was thus
-substantiated, he resolved to confirm the testimony by taking up his
-quarters for the winter at once. This he did by establishing himself in
-a neat two story brick house, which was formerly located at the place
-now called “The Seven Oaks.” Thus having made himself perfectly at home,
-and we presume feeling himself so, for no body pretended to disturb him
-in his selected quarters, he took his recreations in various ways.
-Sometimes he would appear with a winding sheet around him, and a flame
-of fire coming out of his mouth, then he would walk inhabited like a
-bear, or he might be seen in the form of a dragon with a huge tail. To
-vary the entertainments, he would appear with horrible horns on his
-head, and a tail like a fish, and would go sweeping over the ground as
-if he were gliding in water. He appeared, too, at various places, though
-his favorite resort was the top of the stone wall, which he would often
-bestride, as if it were a full-blooded charger, and would go whistling
-down the wind,—stone wall and all. What rendered this last feat the
-more surprising was, that when morning came the wall looked as unmoved
-as if nothing had happened, but the ghost was nowhere to be found.
-
-It could not be supposed that things should continue in this state
-forever. Accordingly a number of the more aged inhabitants having put
-their heads together, it was thought advisable to devise some energetic
-measures to relieve themselves of his ghostship. Whereupon every man
-stuck his pipe in his mouth, and set to smoking and thinking with great
-energy and decision. After due reflection, various measures were
-proposed, but none so feasible as that proposed by ’Squire Hany, who
-having a pipe about a foot longer than any of the others, came to the
-sagest conclusion.
-
-His proposal was in substance, that a meeting be called on the next
-evening, and that a committee should be appointed to watch the ghost,
-and if possible, to shoot through him with silver bullets; when, it was
-affirmed, he would dissolve into thin air at once. And lest the ghost
-should be aroused to commit some deed of dire interest, as soon as the
-news of these hostile proceedings reached his ears, it was thought
-advisable that all the inhabitants should close their doors at sundown,
-nail horse shoes over them, and, to save candles if not their necks,
-they should go to bed at dark.
-
-A large meeting of the indignant inhabitants, in accordance with this
-decision, assembled at “The Green Tree,” when, after calling “Stoffel
-Burger” to the chair, the following resolutions, which had been drawn up
-with great care and precision for the occasion, were unanimously
-adopted:—
-
-[1]“_Resolved_, That a committee of eight be appointed _to shoot the
-ghost_.”
-
-“_Resolved_, That Stoffel Burger be chairman of the committee to point
-him out, so that the silver bullets be not thrown away, and also, to
-save powder, that _nobody shall shoot the ghost till they see him_.”
-
-To the first branch of this resolution Stoffel felt inclined to demur,
-and said that as he had already been choked by the ghost, he would
-rather not get in his clutches again. The meeting, however, had made up
-their minds—as most town meetings generally do—before hand, and would
-hear of no excuse. It was therefore further
-
-“_Resolved_, That the meeting defray the expenses of the committee,
-provided they follow instructions, and that all the inhabitants be
-commanded to nail horse shoes over their doors, so that the ghost may be
-shot down without mercy.”
-
-We said the resolutions were unanimously adopted, but there was one
-young gentleman who, in the outset, stoutly opposed them, but who,
-nevertheless, afterwards gave them his hearty support. He was a good
-looking fellow, about five feet ten in height, with a piercing black
-eye, a most intelligent face, and a whisker trimmed with such exquisite
-taste that every girl of the village would take a peep out of the corner
-of her eye and admire them while passing. His tongue, too, was as
-slippery as an eel, and he could say the softest and most honied words
-in a way that actually put the stout Dutch phrases completely out of
-tune. Nevertheless, he spoke German like a book, and no man could exceed
-him in driving a bargain, so that, having come from a German settlement
-in the east, he went by the name of “The Dutch Yankee.” He never
-obtruded his advice in any case, and only suggested in this, “whether
-these hostile proceedings might not inflame the anger of the ghost, and
-lead to hot work.”
-
-The valor of the meeting, however, was too highly inflamed to listen for
-a moment to prudential hints, when they had the iron argument of horse
-shoes ready in case of danger, so that after selecting the committee and
-charging them to “be true to their country in this sudden and trying
-emergency, and to meet promptly the next evening and perform their
-duty,” the meeting adjourned.
-
-On the following evening the committee accordingly met at “The Green
-Tree,” armed to the teeth, each man having, in addition to his musket
-charged with the fatal bullet, a long butcher knife to be ready for
-extremities. The host of “The Green Tree” was in excellent spirits, and
-the committee resolved at once to be so too if it could be done by dint
-of good liquor. So in order to be prepared for the fierce encounter, and
-to strengthen his nerves, each man knocked off his half-pint at the
-outset. And as the generous inhabitants had agreed to pay expenses,
-there could be no harm, so thought both the committee and the host, in
-drinking another, and as each felt braver the more he drank, the
-experiment was repeated in homœopathic doses until the hour of twelve,
-when, we will venture to assert, a stouter hearted set of men never set
-out on a perilous expedition.
-
-It is strange, however, how soon the cold wind of a winter night will
-unstring the nerves and set the teeth to chattering, for no sooner were
-the valiant committee within sight of Chew’s wall, and had been a little
-chilled through with the night breeze, than each man was seized with a
-tremendous shivering of cold, and each feeling weaker than the other, it
-was with great difficulty that they could get on, for want of a leader.
-It was stoutly maintained that “Stoffel” should go before, as he was
-commissioned by the meeting to point out the ghost. To this Stoffel
-agreed, but maintained that he could not show him to the committee,
-unless they were with him. It was finally settled that no man should
-have the _honor of going alone_, but that they should all march up
-abreast, and at the signal given fire a platoon into him. So they set up
-at once a terrible yelling, in order that the ghost might see that they
-were in earnest and prepare for the consequences.
-
-Whether it was that the ghost heartily despised their bullying mode of
-procedure, and determined to show that there was no flinching on his
-part, by meeting them more than half way, or that the heads of the
-committee were rather giddy with having been confined in the close air
-of a bar-room for so many hours, and had thus caused them to
-miscalculate distances; certain it was, that before they were aware of
-their position, Stoffel espied the ghost and pointed him out at not more
-than thirty yards distance. Every man instantly cocked his musket, and
-affirmed that it was _moving_, and that owing to the dreadful proximity
-of the ghost, every thing else was dancing around them. Accordingly they
-instantly poured a dreadful volley into the offender and took to their
-heels.
-
-Whether the ghost was hit or not, it was clearly ascertained the next
-morning that the committee had succeeded in putting two silver balls
-into a great, ugly old post, which had long been a serious annoyance,
-and had split the rails of a contiguous fence most shockingly. There
-were not wanting those who were severe and uncharitable enough to say
-that the committee had got a little drunk, and had fired _at_ the post.
-This, however, was deemed a gross slander, and it was unanimously agreed
-that if the ghost had stood where the post was, he would have had a ball
-through him to a certainty.
-
-As for “Stoffel,” having done this daring deed, nobody caught him
-passing the wall for some weeks after, and he gave people pretty clearly
-to understand that he did not intend to for some weeks to come. What
-tended to confirm the inhabitants in the opinion that the vigilant
-committee had extirpated the dreaded visitant, and that there was
-nothing like silver bullets and horse shoes to quiet ghosts, whether in
-doors or out was, he did not appear on the wall—when, unluckily for our
-friend “Stoffel” and his milk punch and hot cakes, “The Dutch Yankee,”
-who possessed the true blood, succeeded in winning the heart of the fair
-Susan, and actually eloped with the bouncing little Dutch beauty, much
-to the amazement of the ’Squire, and the horror of the astounded
-“Stoffel,” and actually carried the enormity so far, as to write
-“Stoffel” an invitation to the “home-bringing,” a month or so afterward;
-coupling the request with a promise that the ghost should not be allowed
-to disturb him either in passing or repassing Chew’s wall without due
-revenge. “Stoffel” did not like the tone of the invitation, or
-considered that his valor in courting and shooting ghosts was
-established, so he declined.
-
-That the ghost still held his quarters privately somewhere in the
-neighborhood, and enjoyed many a pleasant little trip by moonlight for
-his own private gratification after that, was not doubted by the good
-people of the village, although he only condescended to show himself to
-particular favorites, by _occasional glimpses_ when passing the wall.
-Lately, however, he has been more chary of his visits, and it is
-supposed that the rail road rather interfered with his calculations, and
-that the eternal whizzing of steam and the ringing of bells, rendered
-his quarters uncomfortable—particularly since his house has rudely been
-pulled down over his head, and a new one erected on the same site,
-without regard to his convenience.
-
-There were not wanting people who pretended to laugh at the whole affair
-after the elopement and marriage of the fair Susan, and it was
-maintained that the Yankee was often seen to twist his face and laugh to
-himself, when he was ploughing up the old ’Squire’s ground. Yet nobody
-in Germantown, _who had heard the clanking of the chain_, ever ventured
-to doubt the existence of the ghost, and if any of our readers are
-inclined to disbelieve the story, the horse shoes can yet be seen nailed
-over some of the doors, and the bullet _holes_ can yet be shown in the
-posts by the road side,—some of the inhabitants having dug the bullets
-out with the characteristic reflection, “that it was a pity that good
-silver should be thrown away, _even after ghosts_.”
-
- G.
-
------
-
-[1] Note. This, of course, all occurred before the Germantown Telegraph
-was started, or we should refer to the files of that valuable paper for
-a full report of the proceedings, and thus save ourselves a vast deal of
-trouble in copying a vile, old, dusty, Dutch manuscript.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS.
-
-
- BY MRS. E. C. STEDMAN.
-
-
- Speed on! speed on, to your Southern home,
- Ye who ’mid the fleecy clouds may roam!
- The hoarse voice of Winter comes fast on the breeze—
- Its roaring is heard in the tops of the trees,
- And swift as your flight, is the march of Time—
- Away, away, to a milder clime!
-
- Ye’re wearied with seeking in vain for food,
- ’Mid the leafless boughs of your native wood;
- And here will ye carol your songs no more,
- Till the reign of the winter-king is o’er;
- Till Spring, in new beauty, comes dancing on,
- And ascends flower-crowned to her vernal throne.
-
- But your voices shall gladden the fairy bowers
- Of the genial South, through these winter hours,
- Where your golden wings may unfettered rove
- Through the flowery dell, and the orange grove;
- Or bathe in the spray of those crystal streams,
- Which forever glide free in the sun’s glad beams.
-
- Then away! ere hastens cold winter’s night;
- He who watcheth the sparrow, directs your flight:
- We envy your freedom, ye songsters fair!
- And fain would fly, too, from this piercing air;
- But the Power divine, which doth bid you roam,
- Binds us, and our joys, to a Northern home.
-
- But, thanks to that Power! from the frosts of Grief—
- From the Winter that blighteth Affection’s leaf;
- From the chilling blast of Misfortune’s breath,
- The ransomed _spirit_ may flee at death,
- To a clime where perpetual Summer reigns
- O’er the fadeless flowers of celestial plains.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE ROWSEVILLERS.—No. II.
-
-
- THE CAPTAIN’S COURTSHIP.
-
-
-The cloth had just been removed, at my second dinner with the club, when
-the President called on a Mr. Rowley for a story. He tossed off a
-tumbler of Port—to clear the cobwebs, as he said, from his throat—and
-began.
-
-“You all know I am a lawyer, and that men who would be witty have a way
-of quizzing our profession by saying that we cannot tell a story without
-dragging in our craft. I have no objection to the notion of these smart
-gentlemen, and shall not even trouble myself to refute them, but go on
-with my story.
-
-“When I was a student, just after the close of the late war, I used to
-pay occasional visits to Mount Holly, which was even then a passable
-county town, and remarkable for its pretty girls, its gay winters, and
-the quantity of wine drunk by its bar. There wasn’t a lawyer in the
-place who couldn’t carry his two bottles, and as for wit, these
-barristers were famed for it from Cape May to Hackensack. But it is not
-so much with the Mount Holly bar as with Captain Slashbey, one of the
-clients of the wittiest member there, that my story has to do.
-
-“I first met the gallant captain on a hunting excursion into the pines.
-He was a portly little gentleman, with a rubicund face, a constant flow
-of humor, and an opinion of his own good looks rather singular, I must
-say, at forty-five. He had very short legs and a very round person, and
-altogether reminded you of a fat pigeon walking upright. He had been in
-the service during the war, and at the reduction of the army, finding
-himself pretty well in debt, and without a _sous_ in his pockets, had
-settled at Squankum, a place in the very heart of the cedar swamps. And
-very convenient it was for Slashbey, for, like Galway, in Ireland, a
-sheriff’s writ hadn’t been seen there in the memory of man. It was once
-attempted to execute a capias there, but the forgemen and squatters rose
-in a mass, and though the light horse were ordered out, the arrest had
-to be given up. Now the captain was a popular man in Squankum, and
-therefore was as safe as in a sanctuary. He thirsted now and then, it is
-true, for the good things of civilized life afar off, and would often
-make a dash into Mount Holly, like a guerilla, taking care, however, to
-retreat before his creditors had wind of his approach. But at length he
-grew tired of this life,—I’ll thank you for the bottle—and determined
-to extricate himself from it by marrying an heiress; for the captain was
-a gallant man, you must know, and, like Will Honeycombe, had a high
-notion of his own powers.
-
-“There was a merry little vixen at the county town—a gay witty
-black-eyed rogue as ever lived—who was, in the captain’s opinion, the
-very pattern for a wife. She would have made an anchorite forswear his
-creed, and was besides an heiress to a very pretty fortune. Undaunted by
-the crowds of suitors for her hand, Slashbey determined to enter the
-lists, nothing doubting, on the faith of certain smiles with which she
-always welcomed him, that he would carry off the prize. He began his
-preparations like a Napoleon. He bought a new pair of buff cassimeres,
-endued a shining blue coat with metal buttons, and ordered a wig from
-the most fashionable _perruquier_ in Philadelphia, for unluckily the
-captain was as bald as a cannon ball. Thus accoutred, he laid regular
-siege to his charmer, dancing her and sleighing her whenever he could
-venture out of his cedar swamps without being chased by a bailiff. The
-heiress smiled on the captain, her suitors cursed the lucky rival, and
-Slashbey spent his time betwixt studying his glass and singing ‘none but
-the brave deserve the fair.’
-
-“It was just when he thought he was on the point of success that a grand
-ball was given at ——, and the captain, determining to carry his
-charmer by assault, forgot his usual prudence and escorted the heiress
-in his gig. Never did the little fellow look more gallant. I was at the
-ball, and faith! could scarcely keep my eyes off him. His wig was curled
-irresistibly, his new coat shone with resplendent lustre, his cassimeres
-fit him as a mould does a bullet, and he sported his new buff gloves
-with more vanity than a rider does his colors at a race. But, alas! his
-glory was destined soon to wane. One of his rivals, whose nose the
-captain had valorously pulled, determining on revenge, had informed the
-sheriff of Slashbey’s whereabouts, and just as he was leading his
-charmer triumphantly to the dance, the myrmidons of justice pounced on
-him, and after a desperate struggle he was secured, on the charge of an
-assault and battery. But this was not the worst. Before the court opened
-the next day, a dozen writs in civil suits had been lodged against his
-body. The captain was beside himself. He trembled at the _exposé_ of his
-affairs—he trembled for his heiress.
-
-“‘We could laugh this battery out of court,’ he said; ‘but what the
-devil can I do with these creditors? I’m a ruined man. And to come just
-now, the infernal rascals! Oh, Anna Matilda!’ he exclaimed with a
-love-lorn look of his crow-feet eyes, ‘it’s all up with you and your
-fortune now. What would the fellows of the tenth say if they heard of
-it?’
-
-“‘Cheer up,’ said his attorney laughingly; ‘your case will come up among
-the first, and we may yet find a way to get you off. It’s all the result
-of envy. These young boys can’t endure that Mars and Apollo should meet
-together in your person,’ and the barrister winked wickedly to me, as
-Slashbey, marshalled by the sheriff, preceded us into the hall of
-justice.
-
-“It was with a rueful countenance that he took his seat in the court.
-The room was densely filled with the usual motley assemblage at a county
-sessions. Loafers half in rags, and shopmen in the latest cut, portly
-farmers with huge mud-stained boots, and drovers carrying heavy loaded
-whips, here a sober Quaker with a broad-rimmed beaver, and there a gay
-young lawyer with more wit than briefs, long men and short men, fat ones
-and lean ones, some with merry round faces, and others with countenances
-as sour as crab-apples, officers and loungers, attorneys and clients,
-filled up every vacant space outside the bar, whiling away the time
-until the appearance of the judge, by speculating on the prospects of a
-crop, or discussing the points of a case set down for trial at the term.
-At length his honor made his appearance, and, bustling and bowing
-through the crowd, assumed the bench, wiped the perspiration from his
-rubicund face, coughed with judicial gravity, and ordered the crier to
-open the court. That high functionary accordingly started to his feet,
-and in a nasal twang mumbled over a formula which no one could hear
-distinctly, but which appeared to be a recapitulation of the iniquities
-of those in authority generally, and of his honor in particular, as it
-ended with a hope that God would save the commonwealth and the honorable
-court. After the crier sat down, a very lean man, with a very sharp
-nose, and a very squeaking voice, called out ‘John Smith,’ whereupon a
-little fat man jumped up and said ‘here;’ but the clerk, without seeming
-to notice him, went on and called Joseph Thomson, Zerubabel Thomson,
-Joab Johnson, and the Lord knows how many more Thomsons and Johnsons,
-all of whom severally jumped up and said ‘here.’ Then, the jury being
-empannelled, the case came on, and the attorneys got into towering
-passions, and seemed as if they could have eaten each other up, while
-the jury smiled and nodded, and their foreman—the little fat
-man—stroked his chin and looked extremely wise. After this was gone
-through with, there was a general buzz through the room, when suddenly
-the judge cried ‘order,’ and then the sheriff cried ‘order,’ and the
-sleepy constables and tipstaves opened their eyes and echoed ‘order’
-more lustily than either; whereupon his honor turned over one or two big
-books bound in white calf,—ah! this is prime Port—consulted his notes
-for a moment, and then proceeded to sum up the evidence and charge the
-jury.
-
-“The next case was that of Slashbey—and the same formality was gone
-through with until about half of the jury had been sworn, when the
-attorney-general rose to acquaint the court that the panel was exhausted
-and that therefore he prayed a _tales_ from the lookers on. These few
-and simple words of the attorney-general acted on the spectators like
-the upsetting of a crowded bee-hive. Instantly there was a great rush
-towards the door. Drovers and farmers, shopmen and gentlemen, staid
-Quakers and burly topers, all started in the race at once, tumbling and
-scrambling over each other in their haste to reach the entrance, while
-the tipstaves shouted ‘order’ until they were hoarse, and the sheriff
-and his deputies sprang to the door in order to close it before the
-egress of their prey. It was a moment of general confusion, and Slashbey
-was forgotten in the _mêlée_. Even the judge had eyes only for the
-scrambling fugitives.
-
-“‘Now,’ said I, nudging Slashbey, who sat by me not far from the
-casement; ‘now’s your time—clear the window at a leap—my horse
-Thunderer is fastened not twenty yards off—ride like the devil, and
-don’t draw rein till you get to Squankum.’
-
-“Slashbey understood my plan as readily and rapidly as I had conceived
-it, and, just waiting to see that the coast was clear, he placed his
-hands on the sill, and, portly as he was, shot through the open window
-like a bomb, unseen by all except his honor, who caught sight of the
-fugitive’s coat tails as they disappeared outside.
-
-“‘An escape!’ shouted the judge, starting to his feet; ‘sheriff, your
-prisoner. The captain’s off.’
-
-“On the instant the talesmen were forgotten, and sheriff, deputies,
-tipstaves and freeholders turned around, with open mouths and curious
-eyes. It was a minute or more before the matter could be explained, and
-by that time I saw that Slashbey had got mounted. I shouted ‘stop thief’
-at this, and sprang out of the window, as if in pursuit, followed by the
-sheriff and his constables, tumbling helter-skelter over each other
-after me. The officers no sooner caught sight of the fugitive than they
-roared lustily to stop him, while the sheriff bawled for the ‘_posse
-comitatus_’ like a bull of Bashan. It was no time to respect property,
-so I followed the example of the officers, and sprang on the first steed
-I came across, eager to see the fun.
-
-“The court house stood nearly at the opposite end of the village, from
-that out of which led the road to Squankum, and when I mounted my horse,
-Slashbey was scouring down the main street some hundred yards ahead.
-Before a minute, however, the sheriff and his pack were in full cry at
-the fugitive’s heels, while as many of the spectators as could find
-horses and vehicles started off, a few to aid the law, but most to enjoy
-the sport. And, by my faith! what a sight it was! Foremost in the chase
-gallopped the sheriff, his hat off and his queue flying behind, bawling
-himself red in the face by cries of ‘stop thief,’ ‘head him off,’
-‘maintain the laws,’ amid the laughter of some and the shouts of others
-of the crowd. At every few leaps Slashbey would turn his face ruefully
-around to see whether his pursuers gained on him or not—reminding one
-of Tam O’Shanter, of blissful memory, when he saw the witches yelling
-after him. The captain would never have won the prize at Astley’s for
-horsemanship, and now, what betwixt his hurry and affright, he rode like
-a frightened monkey at a circus. Gilpin did not create more excitement
-in his famous race. The shopmen left their counters, the blacksmith
-hurried from his forge, the school children followed the pedagogue to
-the window, and the very chanticleers, unwilling to let the hubbub go by
-without they partook in it, flapped their wings on the garden fences and
-crowed lustily. But with your leave, I’ll pause to fill my glass, for a
-man telling a story is like a steam-engine—he can’t get on without he
-keeps the fire blazing.
-
-“The race was now at its height. The uproar was tremendous. Up flew the
-windows, and out popped the heads. The women shrieked, the pigs
-squealed, the men laughed, the boys cheered, and a dozen curs hurried
-yelping and snapping at Thunderer’s heels, who, alarmed at the hue and
-cry around him, pricked up his ears, snorted, and fairly taking the bit
-in his teeth, went off at a frantic pace. You would have died with
-laughter had you seen Slashbey then. Holding on to the rein with one
-hand, he grasped the mane desperately with the other, and, sticking his
-feet up to the heels in the stirrup, he leaned forward until he lay
-almost prostrate on the horse’s neck, while the tails of his coat flying
-up behind disclosed the fair rotundity beneath, over which his shining
-new buff cassimeres were stretched as tight as a drum-head. At every
-leap he bounced three feet from the saddle. The shouts of the _posse_ in
-his rear increased, while the captain’s rueful looks behind became more
-frequent. Some cried ‘murder,’ others bawled ‘stop thief.’ The
-perspiration poured down the captain’s cheeks. He gasped for breath.
-And, to crown all, as he got opposite his charmer’s dwelling, a puff of
-wind swept off his wig—for his hat had been left in the court house in
-his hurry—and the envied locks sailing away to the rear amid convulsive
-shouts of laughter on the part of the crowd, betrayed the bald pate of
-Slashbey glistening like burnished silver in the sun.
-
-“‘Go it, fat ’un, and never mind the scratch,’ roared a ragged
-spectator, who was fairly dancing with delight.
-
-“‘Hip—ho—heave ahead there,’ shouted another, shieing a missile at the
-fugitive.
-
-“‘Whow—whow—whoa,’ halloed others, running out in front of Thunderer
-and waving their arms and hats before his eyes, but scampering hither
-and thither as soon as the frightened steed drew near.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“The captain felt his heart sink within him at this accumulation of
-disasters, and he could scarcely summon courage to look up, but he made
-a desperate effort, and—oh! shades of the gallant tenth—there was his
-mistress at the window pointing to his glossy pate, and laughing until
-the tears ran out of her eyes.
-
-“The captain felt that his last hope was gone, and in a moment of
-despair would have reined in his horse, but Thunderer took the matter in
-his own hands and kept on at a thrashing pace, amid the shouts and
-pelting of the crowd. He dashed down the cross-street, clattered over
-the bridge, and in a few minutes crossed the brow of the neighboring
-hill in a cloud of dust. The motley group in pursuit kept on, but when
-Thunderer’s mettle was up there wasn’t his match in the whole county, so
-that before long, one after another of the _posse_ drew in, leaving only
-the sheriff and his deputies in pursuit. These, too, gave out before
-they reached the vicinity of the enchanted land, in other words, the
-cedar swamps this side of Squankum.
-
-“The joke clove to the captain’s name closer than a brother. The little
-vixen of an heiress had all along been coquetting with “the gallant
-warrior,” and now she was the loudest among the laughers at her wigless
-beau. She filled up Slashbey’s cup of sorrow by marrying, shortly after,
-the gallant whose nose the captain had pulled.
-
-“What branch of the service,” asked a spooney lieutenant from the bottom
-of the table, after the laughter had somewhat subsided, “did you say
-your friend belonged to?”
-
-“I didn’t particularize,” coolly said the narrator, “but I believe it
-was the _flying_ artillery.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE REEFER OF ’76.
-
-
- BY THE “AUTHOR OF CRUIZING IN THE LAST WAR.”
-
-
- THE SHIPWRECK.
-
-The arrival of our battered fleet in the Texal, was the signal for a
-diplomatic war betwixt the ministers of England, Holland and France. The
-result of this encounter of wits, was the secret transfer of the
-captured ships to the latter power, and an order from the Prince of
-Orange to quit his dominions. Accordingly, Paul Jones, having superseded
-Landais in command of the Alliance, put to sea on the 27th of December,
-1779, and, after running the gauntlet of the channel fleet, and
-approaching near enough to the Downs to examine its force, reached the
-roads of Groix on the 10th of February, 1780, in safety. As these things
-are matters of history, I briefly pass them over, the more readily
-because I did not myself accompany the commodore; for having found a
-letter from my captain, lying for me at Holland, requiring my return to
-Paris, I seized the first opportunity and started for France within a
-fortnight after the capture of the Serapis.
-
-Our run through the straits was pleasant, and we had every prospect of a
-speedy voyage until our second day out, when the wind freshened into a
-gale, and before night it was blowing, as the old tars had it, “great
-guns and marlinspikes.” Every thing, however, was made fast and clean,
-and toward midnight I sought my hammock, and in a few moments, with a
-sailor’s carelessness, had forgotten our danger in sleep. How long I
-slept I cannot tell, but I was suddenly aroused from my slumbers by the
-heeling of the ship, and as I started up in my berth, I heard the salt
-water dashing through the cabin, and roaring in the hold as if the
-bulk-heads were giving way. The lights were out, and I could see
-nothing, but I knew by the sound that the water was pouring in a
-cataract down the companion way, and that all escape therefore by that
-path was cut off. Could the ship be sinking?—had she broached
-to?—where were the crew? were the questions that rushed through my mind
-at that awful moment. I listened a second to hear, if I could, any sign
-of my fellow passengers in the cabin; but the place appeared to be
-deserted. Knowing that no time was to be lost, I sprang to the window in
-the stern, but—Good God! the dead lights were in, and all escape by
-that way was closed on me. Louder and louder roared the waters into the
-cabin, already they were dashing their cold spray around me, and in a
-few seconds they would submerge my berth. Death stared me in the
-face—death, too, in its most horrid guise. My brain whirled, my knees
-shook, my skin felt cold as the grave, and my usually buoyant heart sank
-within me. But these feelings triumphed only for a moment. My native
-resolution came speedily to my aid, and I determined to die, since die I
-must, like the old philosopher who wrapped his garments around him and
-lay down as if to a pleasant sleep. At this instant I suddenly
-remembered that the cabin had an outlet overhead, and groping my way
-along, half buried in water the while, I caught hold of the frame work
-of the binnacle, and dashing the glass out with my hand, raised myself
-up, and, the next minute, crawled on deck. For an instant—so terrific
-was the violence of the gale which swept past me—I could neither see,
-hear, nor stand. The rain and hail beating fiercely against me, pinned
-me down to the spot which I had first gained, while the thunder of the
-hurricane that went whistling and roaring by, seemed to forebode the
-approach of the final day itself. Oceans of water deluged the deck,
-hissing past me like the scornful laughter of fiends. At length I
-managed to raise my head and cast a glance at the scene around me. The
-darkness was almost impenetrable, but sufficient light existed to
-convince me that the decks were deserted, and that the ship was lying on
-her beam-ends, with cataracts of water rolling momently over her
-windward side. Oh! God, what a ruin! Officer and man, passengers and
-crew, all, all had been swept away by the devouring surge, and I alone
-was left, preserved almost by a miracle. I gazed to leeward, but only a
-waste of driving foam met my eye—I looked astern, nothing but the green
-monsters of the deep, rolling mountain high, were seen. At this instant
-another deluge of foam whistled past, blinding my eyes with spray, and
-jerking me with a giant’s power from my hold. Buried in brine, bruised,
-despairing, and almost stunned, I thought my hour had come, and
-breathing a momentary prayer to heaven for mercy, I resigned myself to
-death. Suddenly my hand struck against something, which, with an
-instinctive love for life, I grasped. My progress was instantaneously
-checked, and, although the resistance almost snapped my arms from their
-sockets, I still clung to the object I had caught. When the billow had
-whirled past, and the spray had ceased to blind my eyes, I saw that I
-had seized one of the posts of the bulwarks. Taking advantage of a
-momentary lull, I crept to a place of greater security, and sat down to
-ponder over my chances of escape.
-
-All through that awful night I clung to my frail support, expecting
-momently to be swept from it into eternity. Language cannot describe my
-feelings. No pen can paint the horrors of those long and dreary hours.
-The air grew intensely cold: the rain became hail. The sky, if possible,
-lowered more gloomily, and the billows rolled higher and higher around
-me, while the deep tones of the tempest mingled with the chafing of the
-surges, rose up over all like the wild choral symphony which we dream of
-as forever rising from the world of ruin and despair. Borne aloft on the
-waves, or hurried down into the abyss, drenched, bruised, and
-bewildered, I saw no gleam of hope. Beneath me was the boiling
-deep—above me the sky seemed settling bodily down. Now the gale
-whistled shrilly past, or now wailed moaningly away to leeward. Darkness
-and terror were all around me.
-
-At length the morning dawned, but slowly and despairingly. The gale
-somewhat subsided, too; but its violence was still terrific. In the
-eastern firmament there was a dull, misty light, hanging like a belt
-along the seaboard, but the sun itself was completely obscured. By the
-faint glimmer thus thrown around the scene, I hoped to distinguish some
-approaching sail. It was in vain. Nothing met my vision, save the wild
-waste tossing to and fro in agony. Again and again I looked,—but again
-and again in vain. At length I caught sight of what would have seemed to
-a landsman to be the foam on the crest of a far off wave, but which I
-knew to be a sail. How my heart throbbed as I watched the course of the
-approaching craft! I soon made her out to be a ship driving before the
-gale under a close reefed main-course, and as she approached nearer, I
-saw that she was an English man-of-war. Captivity was better than death,
-and I did not, therefore, hesitate. I shouted aloud. But I might as well
-have lifted up my voice against the thunder. I waved my arm aloft. It
-was in vain. I clambered up on the weather-quarter, and once more waving
-my arm, shouted with superhuman strength. The head of the frigate came
-gallantly around, and with a cry of joy, I saw the man-of-war make
-towards me. Big tears of gratitude rushed into my eyes, and my throat
-parched with emotion. On came the noble stranger, swinging her tall
-masts gracefully, and in a few minutes she was close on to me. I could
-see the look-outs gazing towards me. In a little space I should be
-rescued. At this moment a billow broke over me again, but, undaunted by
-the drenching, when I rose to the surface, I turned gaily in the
-direction of the frigate. God of my fathers!—she was not to be seen! I
-gazed with a throbbing heart to windward, and there was the man-of-war,
-edging away from me as if unconscious of my presence. I gazed
-speechlessly on her. The truth broke agonizingly on me. The frigate had
-approached the wreck, and not seeing me, had thought all on board lost,
-and resumed her course. In vain I shouted, and in vain I waved my arm
-frantically on high. I felt from the first there was no hope, and at
-length, giving over every effort, I crouched down once more in that
-state of complete exhaustion, both mentally and physically, which
-ensues, when the excitement of hope is followed by the certainty of
-despair.
-
-The day wore on. The tempest slowly abated. Yet no welcome sail met my
-vision, unless a few far off crafts which crossed the seaboard, hull
-down, and which brought no hope, could be called welcome. As hour after
-hour wore away, my hold on life grew weaker and weaker. My physical
-powers, I felt, could not much longer endure this exposure to tempest
-and cold. Already the blood seemed at a stand in my extremities, and I
-fancied I felt the cold chill shuddering up to my heart. A drowsiness
-came over me. But rallying myself, I beat my hands and stamped my feet
-to invigorate, if possible, the vital current. At length I paused from
-pure exhaustion. Still no aid appeared. My spirits at length flagged. I
-felt that utter prostration which, by taking away the spring of hope,
-deprives us of all motive for exertion, and is the sure forerunner of a
-death of despair. I lost all longing for life. The sensation of cold
-subsided. I felt no pain. A dreamy bliss crept soothingly over my
-soul—the sea, the sky, the air, the wreck swam around before
-me—visions such as no mortal eye hath seen or imagined, thronged on my
-brain—an exstacy I cannot describe, but which makes my hand even now
-tremble with rapture, possessed me,—and then all is blank.
-
-Again, and I dreamed. I seemed to be in the centre of a vast void, a
-universe of darkness and obscurity. Yet all was not gloom. For amid the
-shadowy firmament appeared a fair bright face beaming upon me like an
-angel’s from the clouds—a face whose features were written on my inmost
-heart, so soft and seraphic was their expression! I knew it—it was that
-of Beatrice. The mild blue eye, the hair of wavy gold, the brow that
-rivalled a Madonna’s, and more than all, the smile which now appeared
-all glorified, told me that face was hers. And it gazed on me with pity
-and love. And then I heard a voice—like and yet unlike hers, for the
-tone was that of Beatrice, but even sweeter, and, oh! how heavenly! The
-very air seemed music. Was she, indeed, a beatified spirit sent to waft
-me onward to a brighter world?
-
-But once more all was dark—a voiceless void! I had but one feeling, and
-that was of being. I knew not, heard not, saw not. I could not think.
-But my soul was, as it were, agony itself.
-
-At length a light broke in on that void. My brain swam and I faintly
-opened my eyes. Was I yet an inhabitant of earth? The bed, the curtains,
-the room beyond convinced me at length that I lived. I feebly raised
-myself up and gazed around. A footstep approached. Overcome with
-faintness I sank down. A hand put aside the curtains, a cry of joy broke
-from the intruder, a hot tear-drop fell on my face. I looked up, and
-there was Beatrice!
-
-“My own—” I faintly articulated.
-
-“Hush!—not a word yet,” she said archly, placing her fingers to her
-lips with a smile.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE INTERESTING STRANGER.
-
-
- OR, DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.
-
-
- BY EMMA C. EMBURY.
-
-
-On a hot sultry afternoon, in the August of 18—, a tall, pale,
-melancholy-looking gentleman alighted from the stage-coach at the door
-of the Eagle Tavern, in Buffalo, and, after a few minutes’ conversation
-with the bar-keeper, was ushered into a handsome private parlor, while
-his baggage was carried to one of the finest bed-rooms in the house.
-Perhaps, had the stranger mingled carelessly with the loungers on the
-piazza, after his arrival, he would have attracted little more attention
-than the companions of his wearisome journey, for, excepting a slight
-moustache on his upper lip, there was nothing to distinguish him in
-external appearance. But his quiet, grave deportment, and the desire for
-seclusion which he exhibited, excited the curiosity of the news-mongers,
-and a thousand conjectures concerning him were immediately set afloat.
-The stranger, however, seemed little disposed to satisfy the spirit of
-inquiry which prevails so extensively in American hotels; for, after
-taking possession of his apartments, he appeared no more that evening,
-and the waiter, who carried to him his supper, could only say that “he
-was a _real_ gentleman, for he had given him a hard dollar—that he wore
-a flowered silk dressing-gown and embroidered slippers, and that he was
-going to stay in Buffalo a month.” The next morning the interest which
-he had excited extended itself to the no less curious gossips of the
-gentler sex; and, when the bell rang for dinner, many an eye was turned
-to the closed door of Room No. 2, in the hope of seeing its inmate
-emerge from his retirement. They were not doomed to disappointment.
-After all were seated at table, the stranger glided quietly into the
-dining-hall, and took his seat at the foot of the well-filled board,
-apparently unconscious of the piercing glances which were directed
-towards him. Notwithstanding the profusion of dainties which were
-officiously offered him by the waiter, whose heart had been won by the
-“hard dollar” on the previous night, he merely tasted a single dish, and
-refusing all the luxuries of the dessert, finished his frugal meal with
-a bit of dry bread and a glass of iced water. His abstemiousness and
-abstraction of manner excited the attention of every one, and when he
-silently rose to leave the table, many a glance followed his
-slowly-receding form. The ladies had not failed to observe his stately
-figure, his fine aquiline nose, the melancholy softness of his dark
-eyes, and the beauty of his hands, which were small, white and tapering,
-as, according to Napoleon and Byron, all aristocratic hands should be.
-They at once decided that he was a person of some distinction; perhaps
-an English nobleman incognito, or at least a rich and well-born
-Southerner. But a week had elapsed before he chose to give any other
-idea of his rank and station than might be derived from the register of
-the hotel, where he had inscribed, in a very elegant hand, the name of
-“Charles Stuart Montague, New Orleans.” Polite, courteous and
-gentlemanly to every one whom he chanced to encounter, particularly to
-females, he soon won the suffrages of all by his civilities, while he
-excited general sympathy by his uniform sadness of deportment.
-
-Among the inmates of the house was the Hon. Mr. Windlespin, an extensive
-land-holder and an ex-member of Congress, who, with his two daughters,
-had recently returned from a visit to France, and now occupied
-elegantly-furnished apartments in the hotel. The saloon appropriated to
-this family was directly opposite to that occupied by Mr. Montague, and
-the ladies were dying with curiosity to learn something about their
-handsome neighbor. The heat of the weather compelled both to leave open
-the doors of their respective apartments, and the many furtive looks
-which the two Misses Windlespin cast into the tempting room had enabled
-them to catch a glimpse of a richly-enchased writing-case upon the
-centre table, and a guitar leaning against the chimney-piece, while they
-had several times enjoyed the opportunity of watching the solemn step of
-the melancholy stranger, as, attired in the said silk dressing-gown, he
-paced the limits of his apartment. They reflected much upon the singular
-mystery which seemed to involve him. What could make him so unhappy? He
-was evidently rich, handsome, and, as they were willing to believe,
-accomplished—for the mournful strains of a flute were sometimes heard
-at the dim twilight, and occasionally a few chords on the guitar, struck
-as if with a trembling hand, resounded through his lonely room. What
-could be the cause of such deep despondency?
-
-But Mr. Montague had not been quite insensible to the vicinity of the
-elegant Misses Windlespin. A graceful bow had frequently marked his
-consciousness of their presence as he passed the open door of the
-parlor; and, more than once, he had paused at the entrance of the
-dining-hall, while they swept by to take their places at table,
-acknowledging his politeness by a profound courtesy _à la mode de
-Paris_. In the course of the changes which daily occur at a public
-table, Mr. Montague had gradually moved up, until, as one of the oldest
-boarders in the house, he occupied a seat next to the Windlespin family.
-A fine opportunity was now offered for those civilities which cost so
-little and are often productive of so many pleasant results. By degrees
-the abstraction of the melancholy gentleman was beguiled by the charms
-of his fair neighbors, and the ladies noticed, with no small degree of
-satisfaction, that they could induce him, not only to prolong his stay
-at table, but also to exchange his frugal fare for the dainties which
-they so much enjoyed. In short, an acquaintance between them had fairly
-commenced, and they mutually congratulated each other when the
-“_interesting stranger_” actually accepted an invitation to pass an
-evening with them.
-
-Miss Grace Windlespin was a sentimentalist, while her sister Catharine
-affected vivacity and brilliancy. The elder was all poetry—the younger
-all fun and frolic. Grace spoke in a gentle voice, and raised her blue
-eyes sweetly and languidly to the face of those whom she addressed;
-while Kate (for so, in imitation of Shakspeare’s heroine, she affected
-to be styled) turned the full light of her bold laughing glances on
-every one worth looking at. The one delighted in the soft pleasures of
-sensibility—the other in the ready repartee and saucy jest. In short,
-the sisters were alike in nothing except their excessive affectation.
-Neither of them exhibited her natural character; all was assumed for
-effect, and each had studied the part best suited to her style of
-beauty. The slightly-bending figure, pale complexion and long chestnut
-ringlets of Grace were admirably suited to her very _poetic_ manner;
-while the blonde hair, rosy cheeks and somewhat dumpy person of her
-merry sister were equally well suited to the devil-may-care character
-which she chose to assume.
-
-Their father was one of those kind of persons who are constantly engaged
-in visionary schemes of wealth. Nobody better understood how to puff up
-a bubble—nobody was better skilled in “mapping out” landed
-estates—nobody possessed in such perfection the gift of
-“_fortune-telling_” as the Hon. Mr. Windlespin. Originally a country
-shop-keeper in Jersey, his first start in life had been rather an odd
-one. Taking advantage of the mania for “real estate speculations,” which
-pervaded the whole country, he, in company with several others,
-projected a new city, to be located upon their extensive and somewhat
-barren farms. Accordingly a large hotel was built, a meeting-house
-erected, a school-house raised, and some half dozen dwelling-houses were
-ranged along what was meant to be the main street. In an incredibly
-short time all was completed, and every thing was ready except the
-people who were required to occupy the infant city. These were still to
-be found, and the company began to discover that it would be exceedingly
-inconvenient to pay “_interest monies_” without some assistance. At this
-juncture the genius of Mr. Windlespin devised an expedient for bringing
-their new settlement into notice. He advertised in all the papers that a
-purse of fifty dollars would be “_danced for_” by twelve _Communipaw
-negroes_—the dancers to be selected from as many as chose to try their
-skill previous to the grand effort. The scene of these new _Athletæ_ was
-to be the extensive plain which fronted the hotel at
-“_Scipio-Africanus_”—for such was the sounding title which Mr.
-Windlespin, after a careful search into an old copy of Lemprière’s
-dictionary, had chosen for the incipient city. The idle, the dissolute,
-and the shiftless—the people who are most easily led to change their
-habitations, like wandering Arabs, are the very men who were most likely
-to be attracted by such a queer and novel amusement. Accordingly Mr.
-Windlespin’s plan succeeded admirably. On the day appointed for the
-selection of the sable candidates for _saltatory honors_, several
-hundred people were assembled in and about the hotel, while a still
-greater number of the dark race were gathered to exhibit their skill.
-Certain rules were laid down for the governance of the assembly—a place
-was cleared for the exhibition—the negroes came forward by tens, and he
-who could tire down all his companions was set aside as worthy to
-compete for the prize. The first day was consumed in this important
-investigation; _thirty_ first-rate professors of the double-shuffle and
-heel-and-toe exercise had been chosen, and the following day was to be
-devoted to the selection of the appointed _twelve_, from this reduced
-number of candidates. The hotel was filled to overflowing—the dwelling
-houses were no longer empty shells; but, furnished with camp beds,
-offered shelter and repose to the wearied spectators, and even the
-meeting-house was appropriated to their accommodation. The second day
-was similarly spent, except that the concourse of visiters had
-increased, and the excitement of the scene had produced sundry brawls
-and broken heads. The third and last day was appropriated to the
-performance of the selected twelve, and the final adjudication of the
-purse. Never had there been such gyrations, such circumflexions, such
-saltations as were then witnessed. Never had a victory been purchased at
-such a sudoriferous expense. One after another, the dancers withdrew
-exhausted, until only three were left, who seemed to bid defiance to
-fatigue. Hour after hour they continued their exertions, until they
-seemed to be converted into mere machines, and with staring eyes,
-stiffened limbs, and shining faces, appeared like monstrous images,
-moved by some mechanical force. At last the spectators became completely
-tired with this exhibition of perpetual motion. They insisted that the
-prize should be equally divided between the three indefatigable dancers,
-and thus the singular entertainment closed.
-
-But Windlespin had not been idle during those three days. His brandy was
-very excellent—he made “glorious” rum punch—his cigars were real
-“Habanas,” and his customers had fully enjoyed the manifold creature
-comforts which he offered them. When they prepared to return home, most
-of them carried in their pockets the deed of a building-lot in the town
-of Scipio-Africanus, for which they had paid ten per cent. of the
-purchase-money, and given a bond and mortgage for the remainder; while a
-few, being persuaded that the neighborhood of such a hotel was a most
-desirable addition to the comforts of a family, concluded to take
-immediate possession of the houses already erected. Thus did the
-incipient city receive its earliest inhabitants, and though it has never
-yet been obliged to enlarge its borders in consequence of
-_over-populousness_, it still drags on a sickly existence, having,
-however, exchanged its original euphonious title for the more simple but
-no less expressive one of “_Niggertown_.”
-
-Mr. Windlespin’s grand stroke of policy remained yet to be shown. As
-treasurer of the company, as well as officiating master of the hotel,
-all monies derived from the custom at the bar, as well as from the sale
-of building-lots, had passed through his hands. After the affair was
-over, he called a meeting of the company, exhibited a statement of
-expenses and receipts, and after deducting the former, paid over the
-latter to the various members, reserving to himself a handsome
-commission for his trouble. He did not think it necessary to inform his
-confederates of the fact that every thing had been purchased on credit,
-and that, so far from paying the expenses, he had, by using their names,
-rendered them liable for the debt which had been incurred, but quietly
-pocketing the lion’s share of the spoils, he bade adieu to the limits of
-“Niggertown,” in order to try his luck in a new field.
-
-Such was Mr. Windlespin’s first essay in fortune-hunting, and several
-affairs of a similar nature had so increased his means, that he found
-himself quite a respected resident in one of our northern cities, almost
-before he was aware of his elevated position in society. He was finally
-chosen a member of congress for the district, and though, owing to some
-dubious transaction, his seat was disputed, and he magnanimously
-resigned what he knew he could not keep, yet he never relinquished the
-prefix of Honorable, to which the choice of his constituents entitled
-him. Shortly before the appearance of Mr. Charles Stuart Montague upon
-the scene, Mr. Windlespin had taken his daughters to Paris, where they
-received the benefit of foreign polish for six weeks, and then returned
-as highly accomplished as a modern boarding-school, a journey in a
-French diligence and a taste of French cookery could make them. They
-meant to marry, and to marry rich, and therefore each had chosen a part
-which, while it offered a wide field, was likely, as they supposed, to
-occasion no rivalry.
-
-Mr. Windlespin was too wily to be long in doubt as to Mr. Montague’s
-circumstances. He managed to discover that he was a widower, sorrowing
-over the recent loss of a beloved wife, and that he had come to the
-north with the double motive of dissipating his grief, and purchasing a
-certain description of merchandise, which he designed to send to the
-city of Galveston, where a branch of his widely-extended commercial
-house was established. This news was of course communicated to the young
-ladies, and while Grace became doubly sentimental, Kate, the amiable
-romp, determined to wile him from his vain regrets by the charms of
-gayety. Leaving his daughters to pursue their matrimonial plans, Mr.
-Windlespin determined to make the most of his present opportunities,
-and, if possible, to gain some percentage on account of the interesting
-stranger. He accordingly sounded a friend, a careful old Scotchman, who
-dealt largely in the kind of goods required by Mr. Montague, and
-endeavored to secure a handsome commission from him, in case he brought
-him so profitable a customer. But the crafty old fellow was not to be
-caught with fair promises; he required proof of Mr. Montague’s ability
-to become a cash customer, and accepted an invitation to meet him at Mr.
-Windlespin’s apartments. But the scene which met his eyes when he
-entered the parlor at early twilight, was not calculated to give him a
-very exalted opinion of his anticipated dealer. The elegant Mr.
-Montague, attired in pantaloons of spotless white, with gaiters of the
-same snowy hue, extending within an inch of the toe of his shining
-boot—a blue silk fancy jacket, fastened to his waist by a sash of
-crimson net—an embroidered collar, turned back from his throat, and
-embroidered ruffles dangling over his delicate hands, seemed to the
-rough old borderer like the very personification of effeminacy and
-folly. But when he only half rose from his graceful attitude, and
-extended the tip of his finger to the visiter, while he directly turned
-from him to continue his flirtation with the sisters, Mr. MacDonald lost
-all patience with himself for having been foolish enough to expect any
-benefit from such a “popinjay.” But even Mr. MacDonald could not read
-the character of the “interesting stranger.” Early on the following
-morning, he had scarcely reached the counting-room, when he was
-surprised by a visit from Mr. Montague, and the old man could scarcely
-identify the hero of the past evening’s manœuvres in the keen and
-practised man of business who now addressed him.
-
-“I never talk on business in the presence of ladies, sir,” said the
-elegant gentleman, “and this, I hope, will account for my silence on the
-subject last evening; if I am rightly informed, however, you are the
-very person to whom I was advised to apply by my friend Mr. Tickler, of
-New Orleans.”
-
-“Ah, Mr. Tickler, cashier of the Sugarcane Bank, you mean; an old friend
-of mine,” answered Mr. MacDonald, “did he give you letters to me?”
-
-“No, sir,” answered Mr. Montague; “when I left New Orleans, I was not
-certain whether I should visit Buffalo, or limit my journey to New York,
-and therefore I brought no letters to any one in this city. However, you
-probably know your friend’s hand-writing, and, if so, these papers will
-answer our purpose better than a mere empty introduction.” With these
-words he drew from his pocket-book sundry certificates of deposit in the
-Sugarcane Bank, which bore the signature of the cashier.
-
-“That is his hand, sure enough, and a crabbed fist he writes too,” said
-Mr. MacDonald, after a close scrutiny of the proffered papers. While
-examining the signatures, the careful old man had not forgotten to
-glance at the amounts, and he thus learned that the sum of _thirty
-thousand dollars_ was at that moment lying in the Sugarcane Bank to the
-credit of Mr. Charles Stuart Montague.
-
-“I am desirous of purchasing some twenty or thirty thousand dollars
-worth of goods,” said the gentleman, carelessly, “and if I can get them
-sufficiently cheap here to pay the cost of transportation to New York, I
-would rather buy in Buffalo than hunt among the Pearl street jobbers in
-that Babel of a city. I mean to pay cash, and shall ship the goods
-immediately to Galveston.”
-
-“What an immense business those southern merchants must do,” mentally
-exclaimed Mr. MacDonald; “he speaks of dollars as if they were pebbles.”
-
-Mr. Montague continued: “If you are disposed to let me have the
-specified articles at fair prices, with a liberal discount for cash, I
-will immediately make arrangements to have them sent on. However,” he
-added, noticing the cautious Scotchman’s hesitation, “perhaps you had
-better take till to-morrow to think about it, and, in the mean time, I
-will look round the market, and may possibly be able to find better
-bargains than you can afford me.”
-
-“Hang the fellow’s boldness,” thought Mr. MacDonald; “if he were a rogue
-he would not be so indifferent about the matter.” He determined,
-however, to consult Mr. Windlespin before he made his decision, and
-therefore fixed upon the following day to settle the affair. Mr.
-Windlespin took the opportunity offered by Mr. Montague’s daily visit to
-his daughters, and in the course of a private interview with the
-merchant, entered into a negotiation with him by which he, Mr.
-Windlespin, bound himself to take half the risk, on condition of
-receiving half the profits of the sales made to Mr. Montague. Mr.
-MacDonald preferred this method to the original proposition of a certain
-percentage, as it gave him the opportunity of gaining an advantage over
-both the parties. Accordingly Mr. Montague was waited upon by Mr.
-MacDonald, and a close and hair-splitting negotiation was carried on for
-some time, which resulted in the purchase of goods to the value of
-twenty thousand dollars, which were to be delivered to Mr. Montague’s
-agent in New York free of all expenses. In return, Mr. Montague handed
-to Mr. MacDonald certificates of deposit to the amount of twenty-five
-thousand dollars, which were easily negotiable in New York at three per
-cent. discount; and as some time would be required to complete the
-transaction, the stranger agreed to prolong his stay in Buffalo until
-the delivery of the goods in New York.
-
-In the meanwhile, the elegant widower was managing equally well in his
-love affairs. He listened to Kate’s wild sallies with a languid smile,
-and patted her round cheek or clasped her luxuriant waist in a most
-brother-like or rather _cousin-like_ fashion. To Grace he was all
-courtliness and gentleness; if he took her hand it was with an air of
-timid respect, which would have done honour to a “_Paladin
-chivalresque_,” and if he ventured to hang over her, as she sat in one
-of her sentimental attitudes, it was with a look of tender melancholy
-which melted her very heart. Each believed herself the favorite. Kate
-could draw him from his trance of grief, and Grace was allowed to
-sympathise with him. He talked to one of the gayeties of New Orleans—to
-the other, of the domestic happiness he had enjoyed there; and when, at
-length, he was induced to exercise his musical talents in their behalf,
-he played fandangos on the guitar for the lovely Kate, while he poured
-forth the mournful voice of the wailing flute for her sentimental
-sister. But, notwithstanding all her exquisite sensibility, Grace
-Windlespin beheld with secret satisfaction the returning cheerfulness of
-the bereaved widower. He talked less of departed joys, and seemed less
-despairing of future peace. The miniature of his lost wife was no longer
-pressed to his lips with all the fondness of passionate love whenever
-his feelings were overpowered by tender recollections, and, though he
-still wore it about his neck, it was suspended upon a _hair chain_, the
-gift of the gentle Grace, and _presumed_ to be a tress from her own
-chestnut locks, though in reality derived from the store of a
-fashionable barber in the neighborhood. His watch-guard was braided by
-the hands of the lovely hoyden who had laughingly promised him her
-garter for the purpose; and, in short, each had reason to suppose
-herself the true magnet of attraction.
-
-But matters were now drawing to a crisis. The goods were now sent on to
-New York, and Mr. Montague received tidings that they had been duly
-received by his agent. The certificates of deposit were negotiated by
-two of the Wall street brokers, and Mr. MacDonald, after paying himself,
-handed to the young southerner the balance. It became necessary,
-therefore, for Mr. Montague to repair to New York, in order to
-superintend the shipment of his merchandise, and he felt himself obliged
-to settle his “_affaire du cœur_” before his departure.
-
- “How happy could I be with either,
- Were t’other dear charmer away,”
-
-sung the “interesting stranger,” as he reflected upon his position
-between the rival beauties. But he managed with his usual adroitness.
-The gentle Grace contrived to secure an uninterrupted interview with
-him, and received a proffer of his heart and hand, both of which gifts
-she lovingly accepted, together with a delicate locket, containing some
-of her adorer’s raven hair, set in a circlet of aqua-marine
-gems—“emblems,” as he said, “of her transparent guilelessness of
-character.” A merry game of romps with Kate afforded him a chance of
-whispering a declaration in her ear also, and an elegant diamond ring,
-“only less brilliant than her own bright eyes”—to use his elegant
-phrase—was received by her as a pledge of betrothment to Mr. Charles
-Stuart Montague. Having arranged these little matters to his
-satisfaction, he departed, leaving his flute, his guitar, and his
-writing-case, in charge of the ladies until his return. Meanwhile the
-sisters—each imagining she had outwitted the other—kept their own
-secret, and patiently awaited the moment when the lover should return to
-claim his bride.
-
-Scarcely a month had elapsed, however, when intelligence of a most
-startling nature was received. The certificates of deposit, which had
-been forwarded by the New York brokers to their agents in New Orleans,
-when presented to the bank for payment, were pronounced to be
-_forgeries_! An inquiry was immediately instituted respecting Mr.
-Charles Stuart Montague, and the result of the investigation was, that
-no such person was known to the cashier of the Sugarcane Bank, and that
-the signatures to the certificates, though admirably well executed, were
-only _excellent imitations_ of the rugged characters in which Mr.
-Tickler usually traced his name. But the length of time which was
-required to ascertain that fact, had afforded the gentleman full time to
-complete his plans. The goods which he had purchased in Buffalo, had
-been sold at auction by his confederate, as soon as they reached New
-York. Mr. Montague arrived there in time to divide the spoils; and,
-instead of shipping the merchandise, they concluded to ship _themselves_
-for Texas; while Mr. Windlespin and Mr. MacDonald, who had endorsed the
-certificates, were left to reimburse the brokers, and to pocket their
-own loss.
-
-The ladies were filled with amazement and grief, and, in the first
-overwhelming burst of anguish, revealed to each other the alarming fact
-that Mr. Montague was actually _engaged to marry both_! His writing-case
-was opened, and found to contain some rose-tinted note paper—a stick of
-pink sealing-wax, and an agate seal, with the impressive motto,
-“_toujours fidèle_.” But, upon further examination, a private drawer was
-discovered, containing the following letters:
-
- “Dear Jack,
-
- “Why the deuce don’t you get on faster with your Buffalo scheme?
- It will cost as much as it is worth if you stay much longer. I
- believe you like the trade of gentleman, for whenever you take
- it up you let every thing else hang by the eyelids till you get
- into some scrape which drives you ahead. What do you expect to
- gain by courting those two girls when you can’t marry either of
- them if they were as rich as Jews? For my part I don’t see the
- use of playing the devil when there is nothing to be gained by
- it. By the way, I promised to send the enclosed letter as the
- only means of preventing Mistress Molly from advertising you, as
- she does not know where you are. I hope you will be duly
- grateful to
-
- “Your friend,
- “T. M.”
-
-The enclosure was still more curious:
-
- “U are a big Scamp and a Blackhearted villin. If u hav no
- Kumpashum fur me u mite Hav sum for ure own Flesh and
- blude—here I am a Washin and goin out to dase work to Feed ure
- seven starvin childer wile u are a travellin About jist like a
- jintleman—u ought to Bee ashamed so u ought and if u dont cum
- home and luke after us I will Advertis u in all The papers. Any
- Boddy would no u by ure discrepshun u most insinivatin man—oh
- wen I think Of ure butiful Long hare and ure Hansume face I
- culde forgiv u every thing only cum back and i will forgiv u and
- i will werk fur u agin jist Like i alwase did so as to Save ure
- Little wite Hands so no more at present from ure
-
- “afecshunate Mary Mugson.”
-
-About two years after the events just recorded, Miss Grace Windlespin
-(who had long since discovered that her aqua-marine locket, like her
-sister’s diamond, was as false as the lover’s heart) was led to the
-hymeneal altar, as the phrase is, by a very respectable _tailor_; while
-Miss Kate had tamed down her wild spirit so far as to marry a country
-school-master—an elderly widower, with several children. The truth was
-that Mr. Windlespin’s land speculations had ended in total ruin, and the
-ladies had no time to pick and choose among their admirers, when they
-daily feared the exposure of their actual circumstances. They were
-married with great parade, however, and immediately after the ceremony
-the happy couples set off on a bridal tour—the two husbands having no
-doubt that the father’s wedding gift would pay all such little extra
-expenses. Among the places of note which they visited was the famous
-Auburn prison. The time chosen was the hour when the inmates are usually
-led out to dinner, and the ladies stood quietly regarding the gangs of
-men, who, with folded arms and locked step, moved forward, as if with a
-single impulse, like some complicated machine. Suddenly Grace uttered a
-loud shriek, and threw herself tenderly on her husband’s bosom. One of
-the prisoners had dared to look at her as he passed, and, unobserved by
-his keeper, had even given her a knowing _wink_. Kate kept her own
-counsel about it, and did not appear to notice the insolent look of the
-handsome felon; but, notwithstanding his shaven head and prison garb,
-she, as well as Grace, had recognised the features of “the interesting
-stranger”—the elegant Mr. Charles Stuart Montague—alias—Jack Mugson,
-the swindler!
-
- Brooklyn, L. I.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- IL SERENADO DI VENICE.
-
-
- The sunlight has faded away from the sky,
- Bright day has departed, the night draweth nigh;
- Then come to the lattice, love, hither and see,
- Where waits the gondola, swift-gliding and free.
-
- The moon is uprising in glorious light,
- Her beams on the waters are trembling and bright;
- Then haste to thy lattice, love, hither and see,
- Where waits the gondola, swift-gliding and free.
-
- Not a cloud is above, nor a wave here below,
- All is quiet and still, save the river’s soft flow;
- Oh! come to thy lattice, love, hither and see,
- Where waits the gondola, swift-gliding and free.
-
- Then, away! then, away! let us pass the calm hours,
- With the sweet words of love, and with Fancy’s fair flowers
- Ere the rose-fingered morn shall appear and renew
- The songs of the birds and the pearls of the dew.
- Valeria.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- SHAKSPEARE.—No. III.
-
-
-BY THEODORE S. FAY, AUTHOR OF “NORMAN LESLIE,” “THE COUNTESS IDA,” ETC.
-
-
- LADY MACBETH.
-
-Shakspeare should be read at least once a year. This is to the mind what
-an excursion in the country is to the body—a strengthening,
-health-producing process. Each perusal will not be a repetition of the
-preceding. On the contrary, no two perusals will ever be alike. Read him
-as _a boy_, you will be dazzled and delighted: read him year by year
-after, and you will, with each year, behold beauties, sealed to you
-before, from your own comparative narrowness of mind and want of
-experience. Each event of your life will render you fitter to study him.
-Each new acquaintance you form—each history you read—each science you
-study—each country you travel into—each step you advance in life—each
-friend you lose by treachery or death, will prepare you still further.
-Could you go on adding to your experience much more than has ever
-(except in Shakspeare’s own case) been added to that of mortal man, each
-new progress would still enlarge your capacity for appreciating him. All
-men comprehend him differently. The king reads him as he would listen to
-the princely counsels of a royal father. The beggar may find in him
-something applicable to himself, and something likely to make him
-happier and wiser, which he himself had before never thought of—or of
-which he had only formed a vague idea. The statesman—the general—the
-prince royal—the husband—the father—the wife—the lover—the
-unfortunate—the happy—may all come here, and carry away, from the
-boundless reservoir, something apparently intended for themselves. He
-seems to have described or alluded _to every thing_. He seems to have
-taken in the whole range of human nature.
-
-Poor _old general Montholon_, who was with Napoleon at St. Helena—one
-of the most faithful of the friends who have adhered to the fallen
-family—is the companion of the Prince Louis Napoleon, in his late
-_invasion_ of France. Nearly all were very young men. This white-headed
-old soldier appeared among them strangely. Had they succeeded, it was
-doubtless their hope to give respectability to their cause by his
-presence.
-
-The same thing is proposed in Julius Cæsar, by the conspirators,
-respecting Cicero.
-
- “_Cassius._ But what of Cicero? shall we send him?
- I think he will stand very strong with us.
- _Casca._ Let us not have him out.
- _Cinna._ No, by no means.
- _Metellus._ O, let us have him; for his silver hairs
- Will purchase us a good opinion,
- And buy men’s voices to commend our deeds:
- It shall be said his judgment ruled our hands;
- Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
- But all be buried in his gravity.”
-
-I am not going to reprint the beauties of Shakspeare. Instances like the
-above—_a case_—an event—a feature of human nature—are so common that
-they need not be pointed out. Thousands of years hence, as the
-numberless crowd of unexpected events come on, it will be found that
-this poet has already described them.
-
-These thoughts occurred to me the other evening after taking up casually
-a volume of Macbeth—perhaps one of the most tremendous portraitures of
-human nature that ever came from the pen of man. The play opened by
-chance to the scene where the remorse-haunted queen walks in her sleep.
-Surely no human writer ever set down, in the same number of words, a
-more terrific picture. It has upon me almost the effect ascribed to
-Medusa’s head. It nearly turns me to stone. We know that but few of the
-great Greek tragedies have descended to the modern reader, but neither
-in them, nor in any of the ancient or modern writers, is there a scene
-more highly conceived, more perfectly executed, or acting with more
-power upon the heart and the imagination. I have not read any comments
-or commentators, German or English, respecting it, and therefore very
-probably may omit some of its peculiarities. I think it _the_ scene of
-Macbeth, the climax and moral of the tragedy, and perhaps the finest and
-most extraordinary piece of writing in the whole of the author’s works.
-No where in the range of literature is there to be seen such a frightful
-fragment of human nature. I can never read it without feeling the blood
-grow cold in my veins, and receiving a most painful heart-sick
-impression of the evils which hang over the mortal state, when not
-protected by moral and religious principle; and I can perfectly
-understand an anecdote related of Mrs. Siddons, who, on attempting to
-study the part alone in her room at night, became so frightened that she
-called her maid as a companion. Perhaps the Shaksperian theorist, who
-has discovered that the purpose of our poet’s works was to make an
-illustration of the truth of Christianity, by putting within every
-man’s, every boy’s reach the whole compass of experience to be derived
-from a hundred eventful lives, had an eye upon this scene among others.
-It certainly has to me a profound metaphysical and religious meaning,
-and is best explained by supposing it, like Othello, a gigantic enigma,
-of which Christianity is the solution. To represent human nature thus,
-without offering any remedial or softening consideration, was not
-characteristic of the sweet, gentle and sunshiny imagination of the
-poet. His whole works, taken together, do not leave any such shadow on
-the imagination. He is no misanthrope—no infidel. He points with his
-wand to human nature as she is, unguided, unsustained, unprotected by
-the Supreme Power. He draws the blood-stained yet heart-crushed queen,
-not to appal us with a danger to which we are subject, but to point out
-one which we can avoid.
-
-The scene is very short, and I will give it, that the reader may the
-more readily understand me.
-
- Act V. Scene I.
- _Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a Waiting Gentlewoman._
-
- _Doct._ I have two nights watch’d with you, but can perceive no
- truth in your report. When was it she last walk’d?
-
- _Gent._ Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her
- rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock her
- closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it,
- afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while
- in a most fast sleep.
-
- _Doct._ A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the
- benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this
- slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other actual
- performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say?
-
- _Gent._ That, sir, which I will not report after her.
-
- _Doct._ You may, to me; and ’tis most meet you should.
-
- _Gent._ Neither to you, nor any one; having no witness to
- confirm my speech.
-
- _Enter_ Lady Macbeth, _with a Taper_.
-
- Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my
- life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.
-
- _Doct._ How came she by that light?
-
- _Gent._ Why, it stood by her; she has light by her continually;
- ’tis her command.
-
- _Doct._ You see, her eyes are open.
-
- _Gent._ Ay, but their sense is shut.
-
- _Doct._ What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.
-
- _Gent._ It is an accustom’d action with her, to seem thus
- washing her hands; I have known her continue in this a quarter
- of an hour.
-
- _Lady._ Yet here’s a spot.
-
- _Doct._ Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her,
- to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
-
- _Lady._ Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One; two; why, then ’tis
- time to do ’t; Hell is murky!—Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and
- afraid? what need we fear who knows it, when none can call our
- power to account?—Yet who would have thought the old man to
- have had so much blood in him?
-
- _Doct._ Do you mark that?
-
- _Lady._ The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What,
- will these hands ne’er be clean?—No more o’ that, my lord, no
- more o’ that: you mar all with this starting.
-
- _Doct._ Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.
-
- _Gent._ She has spoke, what she should not, I am sure of that:
- heaven knows what she has known.
-
- _Lady._ Here’s the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of
- Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!
-
- _Doct._ What a sight is there? The heart is sorely charg’d!
-
- _Gent._ I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the
- dignity of the whole body.
-
- _Doct._ Well, well, well,—
-
- _Gent._ Pray God, it be, sir.
-
- _Doct._ This disease is beyond my practice: Yet I have known
- those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in
- their beds.
-
- _Lady._ Wash your hands, put on your night-gown; look not so
- pale.—I tell you yet again, Banquo’s buried; he cannot come out
- of his grave.
-
- _Doct._ Even so?
-
- _Lady._ To bed, to bed; there’s knocking at the gate.—Come,
- come, come, come, give me your hand; what’s done cannot be
- undone: To bed, to bed, to bed. (_Exit Lady._
-
- _Doct._ Will she go now to bed?
-
- _Gent._ Directly.
-
- _Doct._ Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds
- Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds
- To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
- More needs she the divine, than the physician.—
- God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
- Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
- And still keep eyes upon her:—So, good-night:
- My mind she has mated, and amaz’d my sight:
- I think, but dare not speak.
-
- _Gent._ Good-night, good doctor. (_Exeunt._
-
-There is not _a single word_ of this scene which can be spared—not one
-which is not impregnated with blood and horror. You feel the very
-silence of the sick, midnight apartment. Ye see the pale ashy
-countenance of the terror-stricken gentlewoman, and sympathize with her
-in having her lot cast in such an abode of guilt and danger. You see
-that she has called up all her energy and presence of mind, as in a
-great crisis, to enable her to conduct herself wisely, and to escape
-with safety from this den of royal murderers. You can see her cautious
-step—as if she started even at the creaking of her own shoe—the
-rustling of her own robe, or the sighing of the wind around the distant
-turrets of the castle. You have here a most admirable character, and,
-except that she is but so short a time on the stage, almost as worthy
-the genius of Mrs. Siddons as that of Lady Macbeth herself. Were I a
-young actress, desirous of making my appearance before the public, I
-should choose to study thoroughly and represent well this character
-first,—a very great effect might be given to it.
-
-The doctor is also done to the life. He is, in all respects, not only
-the medical man, but the medical man of coolness and experience. The few
-words he utters are full of curiosity, but not of the unbridled horror
-of his companion. He has doubtless, before, witnessed scenes enough of
-pain and anguish, and he is at first disposed to consider the
-gentlewoman as an exaggerator of the mysteries she professes to have
-beheld, and to treat the whole thing physically as a disease, till the
-truth becomes too apparent, and even his cool mind is convinced.
-
-Lady Macbeth herself is the very _ne plus ultra_ of the tragic. She has
-more terror in her step and eye, than a mere mortal ever had before.
-Waking remorse would not have been, by any means, so appalling. The fact
-of her being asleep is a great accessory. That pale face—those fixed,
-staring, dead eyes—the countenance emaciated by disease, and the long
-consuming fire of conscience—the step, solemn, slow, measured and
-unearthly—and the dark, dim and shifting imagery of the past, which
-floats to and fro through her imagination, form altogether a spectacle
-shocking and almost insupportable.
-
-Let us take this extraordinary scene to pieces, and examine a little
-into its mechanism. One of the wonders of it is that there is no resort
-to _style_—no description—no bursts of eloquence—no lava-like
-eruption of passions. There are indeed but very few words said at all.
-The sick lady has, at first, no terrors for the doctor, and the
-gentlewoman has often beheld the same thing before. There is no stage
-effect—no management—no melo-dramatic cunning. The doctor even shows
-his coolness and incredulity, and makes a careless general remark. The
-transcendant genius of the poet felt, intuitively, that the situation of
-his characters here was so complete as to absorb the reader, and render
-unnecessary any but the simplest language. The whole scene is quiet,
-hushed and professional. Even the blank verse of the rest of the tragedy
-is laid aside, and the characters speak in common-place perfectly
-natural prose. Let us see what this almost supernatural terror consists
-in.
-
-The doctor first says, we may suppose with a certain half unintentional
-degree of disappointment, that he has been already watching two nights
-to see something which the waiting-woman has reported to him respecting
-the queen, and yet he has seen nothing.
-
- “I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth
- in your report.”
-
-A little impatient, a little incredulous, perhaps, he adds:
-
- “When was it she last walked?”
-
-This is a stroke of nature and probability at the very outset. It takes
-from the scene the air of a fiction. It sends the mind of the spectator
-back to the two past long nights, when the doctor, tolerably tired out,
-has been watching in vain. This is just as things happen in life. We
-have to watch and watch for every thing—even for the most true—before
-it appears. We feel also, even with the first apparently unimportant
-word spoken, a certain tremor at the intimation given of the domestic
-gloom which must reign in the royal household—an attack immediately
-expected from a powerful and inexorable foe—the queen sick—mysterious
-things, we know not what, hinted with pale face and trembling lips—and
-the guilty being, who had sold her eternal soul for her present
-position,—we see her _in_ that position, all the promised triumphs and
-pleasures neutralized by disease and remorse, and she herself _watched_
-by her servants, night after night, when she little dreams herself the
-subject of such a combined inquisition.
-
-The gentlewoman relates more particularly what she has seen, though with
-a guarded care, which not every gentlewoman in real life, under such
-exciting circumstances, would have the prudence to observe; but
-Shakspeare’s people are not only living but very sensible persons. To
-the question:
-
- “When was it she last walked?”
-
-she replies:
-
- “Since his majesty went into the field.”
-
-Here at once is another stroke. It tells the _occupation_ of the king;
-called to a fearful contest and absorbed in it, the deadly secret is
-transpiring unopposed, undreamed of by him, behind his back, in the
-centre of his household, and from the lips of the very being who has so
-often taunted his weakness, and urged him with haughty scorn onward in
-his guilty and blood-tracked career. So little power has man over
-destiny! Thus is guilt beset. These are the nameless, unimaginable
-dangers it runs, when, bold and self-confident, it thinks itself equal
-to a contest with the Deity, who, seated in the clouds, strikes it with
-its own arm, and baffles its plans with the toils it has woven for
-others.
-
- “Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise
- from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock her closet,
- take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards
- seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most
- fast sleep.”
-
-There is nothing more appalling to me than a person walking in his
-sleep. It is such an image of death aroused from the grave—such a type
-of the spiritual world—such a contrast to the same being when awake,
-that I could never look upon my most intimate friend in such a state
-without a thrill of fear, as if I were gazing upon his spectre—without
-perfectly comprehending Hamlet’s account of his own feelings in looking
-upon a ghost.
-
- ——“and we fools of nature
- So horribly to shake our disposition
- With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls.”
-
-This statement of the waiting-woman, so simple, natural and true, is
-enough to arouse in a moment the curiosity of the most indifferent
-stranger, and to inspire him with an inexpressible anxiety to know what
-it means, and to what it will lead.
-
-The doctor, however, is a man of the world, and is not so easily worked
-on. He replies with a mere generality:
-
- “A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the benefit
- of sleep and do the effects of watching. In this slumbry
- agitation, besides her walking, and other actual performances,
- what at any time have you heard her say?”
-
-Here there is a peeping out of curiosity on the part of the honest
-physician, who is eager to learn all that may be acquired of what has
-the appearance of an interesting secret. But his companion does not mean
-to go further than prudence and self-security require. She replies at
-once in a way which, while it balks curiosity, sharpens its appetite.
-
- “That, sir, which I will not report after her.”
-
-What would any doctor say in such a case?
-
- “You may to me; and ’tis most meet you should.”
-
-He is aroused. He wishes—he is determined to know this mystery, and
-therefore pleads the privilege and necessity, as well as the prudence of
-his profession. “You may tell _any_ thing to _me_. Of course I shall
-never reveal. I am the depositary of a thousand family secrets. Besides,
-if I am to treat the patient, I _must_ know what is the matter with
-her.”
-
-But the waiting-woman is not going to be driven from her determination.
-She has obviously received _a deep-seated fright_. Her whole
-self-possession is called up for her defence and guidance. She is a
-single woman, in a lonely castle, and in a really awful position,
-accidentally the holder of a secret involving the reputation, if not the
-life and death of those in power, and the fate perhaps of nations. Were
-she to hint her suspicion that her royal mistress was a murderess—that
-the fierce king, now desperate with the danger impending over his
-kingdom, had gained the throne by a foul assassination—how can she be
-sure that the doctor will not go to the king and betray her, to
-ingratiate himself into the favor of his royal master? Courts are not
-the places for too light confidences—particularly of such secrets. In
-such case the truth or falsehood of the statement would be little
-inquired into, and she would be probably hurled from the battlements or
-immured to starve in some dark dungeon. She is—you feel she is, quite
-in earnest, and quite right to reply:
-
- “Neither to _you_ nor _any one_; having no _witness_ to _confirm
- my speech_.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- EPHEMERA.
-
-
- BY CHARLES WEST THOMSON.
-
-
- Well might weep the sentimental Persian,
- Looking o’er his host of armed men,
- When on Greece he made his wild incursion,
- Whence so few might e’er return again.
-
- Well might he weep o’er those countless millions,
- Dreaming of the future and the past,
- As he gazed, amid the gold pavilions
- Round his throne, upon that crowd so vast.
-
- Musing, with subdued and solemn feelings,
- On the awful thoughts that filled his soul—
- One of those most terrible revealings
- That will sometimes o’er the spirit roll.
-
- Thoughts, that of that multitude before him
- Panting high for fame—athirst to strive—
- Ere old Time had sped a century o’er him,
- Not, perhaps, would one be left alive.
-
- That those hearts, now bounding in the glory
- Of existence, would be hushed and cold;
- Not their very names preserved in story,
- Nor upon fame’s chronicle enrolled.
-
- All to earth, their proper home, departed;
- Light heart, strong hand, all gone to kindred clay;
- And, in their vacant room, a new race started,
- Careless of the millions past away.
-
- Well might weep he—well might we, in weeping,
- Make our offering at sorrow’s call—
- When we ponder how our days are creeping,
- Like the shadow on the wall.
-
- When we think how soon the sun-beam, setting,
- Will depart, and leave it all in shade—
- And our very friends will be forgetting
- That the daylight o’er it ever played.
-
- Life, upon a swallow’s wing is flying,
- O’er the earth it sparkles and is gone;
- All our days are but a lengthened dying—
- One dark hour before the eternal dawn.
-
- Riches, glory, honor, fame, ambition—
- All as swiftly fly, as soon are fled;
- Or, if gathered, mend they our condition?
- What delight can these afford the dead?
-
- Chase no more the phantom of the dreaming—
- Weary is the hunt, the capture vain;
- When thy arms embrace the golden seeming,
- It will vanish from thy grasp again.
-
- Trouble not thy heart with anxious carings—
- Thou art but a shadow—so are they;
- Let the things of Heaven deserve thy darings,
- They alone will never pass away.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- WITH THEE.
-
-
- BY MRS. C. H. W. ESLING.
-
-
- With thee, at dewy morn where e’er I wander,
- Are my fond thoughts—still close to thee they cling;
- O’er each departed hour they love to ponder,
- That, pass’d with thee, seem’d like the hours of spring.
-
- Yes—every vanish’d joy is like a treasure
- Glean’d from the mighty casket of the past,
- Dearer than low-breathed music’s echoed measure,
- When its soft spell around our souls is cast.
-
- With thee at noon, when summer winds are stealing
- Thro’ the green leaves in harp-tones rich and sweet,
- On the bright sward in lowly homage kneeling,
- With thee my prayers—my prayers of fondness meet.
-
- What tho’ mine eye thro’ dreary distance faileth
- In its deep search to hail thy welcome form?
- What tho’ my cheek thro’ long, long watching fadeth,
- And my sad heart leaps not so freshly warm?
-
- Still unto thee no eyes beam brighter lustre,
- No vermeil cheeks thy early love’s outshine;
- Around no heart do richer feelings cluster,
- Than swell in that which is so wholly thine.
-
- Why do I mourn that mountain billows sever?
- Vain may they strive our spirits to divide,
- For am I not, mine own one, with thee ever?
- E’en as thou art forever at my side.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- WICCÓNSAT.
-
-
- A LEGEND OF ST. MARY’S.
-
-
- BY MRS. MARY M. FORD.
-
-
-On the eastern bank of a small river, which enters the Potomac a few
-miles above its confluence with the waters of the Chesapeake Bay, are
-still to be seen vestiges of the earliest settlement in Maryland; once
-the village of Youcómaco, but quietly yielded by the natives to the
-white colonists, who there built a town, calling it St. Mary’s.
-Subsequent events led to its desertion for a more advantageous location,
-and the ravages of time have left little to tell of its former state. It
-has faded away, unnoticed and unsung, yet its name is still seen on the
-older maps of our country. The river, which once bore the appellation of
-St. George’s, is now called St. Mary’s, but whether in memory of the
-deserted town, or not, is uncertain.
-
-Ruins are happily so scarce in our young and thriving republic, that the
-simple legend which gives a name to my story, may awaken some interest
-among those, to whose imaginations the solitary remains of the past seem
-to speak in the breathings of the winds that sweep over their ruins. The
-circumstances which led to its narration, by one who had heard it in the
-mother country, and in whose family its memory had been handed down,
-were as follows:—
-
-Many years ago, as the last lingering sunbeams were fading from the sky,
-giving place to the mellow twilight; and a ruddy tinge was on the bosom
-of the waters, where the little river of St. Mary’s mingled its
-tributary stream with the waves of the broad Potomac; a small vessel had
-just anchored within the mouth of the former river, on which is
-established a port of entry. The craft seemed awaiting the boarding
-officer, who, at a point further up the river, was just entering his
-boat. He appeared very young, and, from the open gaiety of his fine
-countenance, seemed to enjoy corresponding lightness of heart. He raised
-a small telescope to his eye, and exclaimed to the two colored men who
-were loosening the boat—
-
-“It must be a Yankee schooner; be quick Basil! Luke!”
-
-“Aye, aye, Massa Frank,” replied Luke, “all ready—that’s an eastern
-craft, sure.”
-
-The light barge was soon on the waves, and the youth took the helm,
-while the strong arm of his companions were engaged with the oars.
-
-The visitors approached the vessel’s side almost unperceived; and when
-the young officer ascended to its deck, he found the captain anxiously
-absorbed in examining an old map, which was spread out before him. The
-expression of his weather-beaten face, as he raised it to return the
-salutation of his visitor, showed evident signs of being puzzled.
-
-“Where are you from?” inquired the landsman.
-
-“From Plymouth.”
-
-“What cargo?”
-
-“Why, a good many notions, of which you will know presently.”
-
-“And whither bound?”
-
-“Why that’s what I’m looking for on this old map, for I see nothing like
-it on shore; aye, here it is, St. Mary’s, the town of St. Mary’s,
-sir.”[2]
-
-“There is no such town in the state, sir,” replied the youth, “this
-river and the county bear that name; there is some mistake.”
-
-“Massa captain clear out for de county,” said Basil, grinning.
-
-“De boss lose his reckoning dis time,” rejoined Luke.
-
-“Be more respectful, and return to the boat,” said the young officer,
-checking their glee; then turning to the captain, he continued, “This
-map is an old one; there was formerly a town named St. Mary on this
-river—it was the first settlement in the state, and built in the time
-of the Calverts, but it has passed away and been forgotten for a
-century.”
-
-The disappointed face of the mariner was not the only one agitated by
-the news. The sailors belonging to the vessel had joined the group, and
-their rough appearance was strongly contrasted with the tall and elegant
-figure of a passenger, who had been drawn by the conversation from the
-cabin, and now stood leaning against the companion way.
-
-The young Marylander, who had not before perceived the stranger,
-thought, as he returned his salutation, that he had seldom looked on a
-countenance so interesting. It was youthful, but there was a shade of
-melancholy on the fine features, which, however, served only to confine,
-not hide the flashes of an enthusiastic spirit, which glanced from his
-full dark eye.
-
-“We are out of soundings, Mr. Egerton,” said the captain, “I might as
-well have cleared out for a port in the moon.”
-
-“The fault was mine, sir,” replied the person called Egerton, “and I
-regret having thus led you astray;” then, turning to the young American,
-he continued, “The disappointment is also great to me, sir, for the
-haven we sought was the home of my forefathers. I am a stranger in this
-country, having lately arrived from England. On landing at Plymouth I
-found this schooner loading for a southern port—and, wishing to visit
-Maryland immediately, I induced this worthy but too obliging man to
-bring the cargo hither. The silence of history has left the annals of
-Maryland so much in the shadow, that a foreigner feels doubtful whether
-a literal construction should be put on the desertion of a town,
-particularly when your port of entry also bears the name of St. Mary’s.”
-
-“Well,” interrupted the captain, smiling, “don’t feel uneasy about me,
-for the cargo is of that accommodating nature which will suit another
-town as well.”
-
-The customary business was soon despatched, and the officer was leaving
-the vessel, but his eye lingered on the interesting stranger. There was
-something in his appearance that won his heart, and, after a moment’s
-hesitation he thus spoke.
-
-“This seems to have been your place of destination, Mr. Egerton. Will
-you excuse the blunt freedom of an American, if I ask you to accompany
-me to the shore? My uncle’s dwelling is in sight. I act as his deputy in
-official business, but with much more pleasure I use another privilege,
-and tender you the hospitalities of his roof. Although the town, the
-principal object of your visit, is no more, yet if you can content
-yourself a few days with us, you can explore the ruins. Oakford is the
-name of my uncle. I bear the same, with the simple addition of Frank.”
-
-The stranger caught his offered hand.
-
-“I feel grateful for your kindness,—the ruins! did you say? It would
-indeed be a gratification to view them—I will, with pleasure, avail
-myself of your polite invitation; the ruins! are they extensive?”
-
-“Oh, no,” replied young Oakford, smiling, “there are but few relics left
-by time and weather—some remains of walls and foundations—but the most
-interesting are the ruins of an ancient church—among whose dilapidated
-pews a respectable audience of weeds have accumulated.”
-
-“Weeds, growing in the holy temple of my fathers! what a sublime yet sad
-subject for reflection! I must see them!”
-
-The young American again smiled at his companion’s enthusiasm; and, as
-the shadows of evening were fast closing around them, he hurried his new
-friend in his preparations to leave the vessel. The good-natured captain
-declined an invitation to accompany them, as he had made arrangements to
-continue his voyage farther—and, cordially shaking the hand of his
-departing passenger, refused to receive any extra compensation for the
-trouble occasioned. The rough, but kind-hearted sailors also refused,
-but the generous feelings of the young man were not to be checked thus,
-and he forced into their unwilling hands the expression of his thanks,
-as he took a kind leave of them.
-
-Darkness had veiled the landscape when the boat reached the shore, and
-the warm-hearted Marylander, drawing the arm of the young stranger
-within his, hurried him up the long avenue leading to the mansion,
-assuring him that his uncle would be as much gratified as himself by
-this acquisition to their society. “So, feel perfectly at ease, for we
-southerners use very little ceremony.”
-
-The event proved it so, for Col. Oakford, a fine looking man, just past
-the meridian of life, received him with that easy politeness and frank
-cordiality of manner which relieved him from all embarrassment. He soon
-discovered that his guest possessed high literary attainments—and,
-enjoying those advantages himself, the conversation became interesting,
-and they parted at the hour of rest, mutually pleased with each other.
-
-The next morning arose in clouds and rain. “No _ruins_ to-day,” said the
-young Briton, as they met in the breakfast room. But, although the
-weather prevented any outward excursion, a well filled library offered a
-pleasing substitute.
-
-Young hearts soon assimilate, and friendships in early life are quickly
-formed—hence, when the sun at last broke through the clouds, on the
-evening of the third day, the two youths felt on terms of intimacy and
-attachment. On the fourth morning, the lively Frank aroused his friend
-before sunrise, to view, what he imagined must be to him, a novel and
-imposing sight. They descended to the open piazza, and young Egerton
-looked around in vain to discover the woods, the hill, the river; all
-was enveloped in a thick fog, and had the appearance of a surrounding
-lake. At this moment the sun rose, and the vapor broke on the bosom of
-the stream.
-
-“See,” said Frank, “the river is throwing off his night robes—observe
-how gracefully he rolls and folds them.”
-
-Huge white sheets of vapor were indeed majestically receding down the
-current; others floated like snow wreaths on the hills of the opposite
-shore—the green sides of which, were at intervals visible through the
-breaking mist, and seemed struggling beneath its might. In gradual
-succession the forests and dwellings of men appeared, and in a few
-minutes this atmospheric envelope was lost in the increasing warmth of
-the sun’s beams.
-
-“How singular and beautiful,” said the stranger. “Is it often thus?”
-
-“Very frequently; at some seasons each morning renews the scene; but you
-are not very robust, and must be content to view it seldom, for this
-recreation is far from healthy. The poets of your native isle may sing
-of ‘walks at early dawn, through dewy meads,’ but such strolls would
-make a short life here.”
-
-On entering the parlor they met the Colonel.
-
-“What think you of the night bath which these lowlands take?” said he,
-smiling.
-
-“That the morning effect is beautiful,” replied Egerton, “but the whole
-must be injurious to health.”
-
-“You are right, it is ever so to strangers, but we, who are sons of the
-mist, fear no harm from our native atmosphere. Yet do not think this
-characteristic of our general climate. On the contrary, the northern
-states, with their rock-bound sea coasts, have a clear bracing
-atmosphere; the middle states, also, with their varied surface of
-mountain and valley, and most parts of the southern, are equally
-healthy. Our own upper counties, and the neighboring inlands, or forest
-places, as we term them, are not sickly. It is only where the land is
-low, and as bountifully supplied with bays, inlets and streams as here,
-that this effect takes place; but see, ‘aunt Nora’ waits with the
-breakfast.”
-
-The aged colored housekeeper, called by this familiar appellation, had
-been the faithful nurse of the Colonel’s infancy, and, in return, was
-treated by him with great kindness. She was busied at a little table, in
-a corner of the room, from which she despatched, by the younger hands of
-her grandson, Luke, to a larger table in the centre of the apartment,
-the fine coffee, and more solid comforts of a Maryland breakfast, of
-which the young friends hastily partook, and then made arrangements for
-their visit to the _ruins_.
-
-The boat was soon in readiness, and they set out, accompanied by Basil
-and Luke. As the light bark glided along the shore, Frank pointed out
-several places endeared by the recollections of his childhood. Through
-an opening in the trees peeped the unobtrusive walls dedicated to
-country learning, with its play ground, so often the scene of his boyish
-gambols, and its clear spring under the shade of a sycamore near the
-river, where a solitary cow was now stooping to drink.
-
-“See, Frank,” cried his friend, “she is profaning your Helicon fount!”
-
-“Nay, let her drink, Egerton,” he replied, “for, as she is not likely to
-draw more romantic inspiration than _I_ did from its waters, the spring
-will lose none of its power from her draught.”
-
-“But you have gained what is worth more, sentiments pure and
-disinterested, with a mind happy and free. ’Tis true, you seldom make
-reminiscences—but, if you were like me, an orphan, and a native of a
-clime where, at every step, you meet some relic of the past, you would
-feel differently. Your country has but a short path to retrace, and is
-too young to boast of olden days.”
-
-“And yet,” replied Frank, archly smiling, “there were times to which we
-might refer, as equal to any that shed glory on ancient chivalry.”
-
-“Granted, and the treasure they left you may well render you careless of
-other relics.”
-
-“Many thanks for your liberality, my dear friend,” said Frank, “and now
-for the _ruins_.” As he spoke, the direction of the boat was changed,
-and they swiftly crossed the river. Egerton sprang first on land, and
-was soon deeply engaged in examination, but found Frank’s words too
-true. Time and weather had indeed been ruthless ravagers; besides, it
-appeared that many materials had been removed, perhaps to repair the
-cottages of the neighboring poor. But some remains of what seemed to
-have been the walls of a large store house, part of an embankment where
-once had stood a fort, pits filled with rubbish, which had been cellars,
-and crumbled walls, with here and there a fallen chimney, gave
-melancholy testimony to the change. Nor had the church met a better
-fate. The broken in roof still clung to the shattered wall on one side
-only, and hung like a dark banner, half suspended over the desolation
-below; the decayed floor had descended into the mournful cemetery
-beneath, leaving some of the baseless seats clinging to the side wall.
-Weeds, too, were there, whose flowers seemed to bloom in mockery. In the
-sad home of the buried dead all was confusion, broken tombs, and heaps
-of rubbish. The young Briton sat down on a fragment of the ruined wall,
-and Frank shared in the melancholy of his friend, as they viewed the
-desolate scene. Egerton at length broke silence. “You have, no doubt,
-wondered at the deep interest I feel with regard to these ruins. Many
-circumstances have led to it, particularly a little tale related to me
-by a maiden aunt, to which I listened with great delight in childhood;
-and when, in after years, I was deprived of my beloved parents, I would
-sometimes beguile my sorrows by a recurrence to its sad remembrance.
-Thus it became more interesting to me, and I soon felt a desire to visit
-the location of scenes so connected with my family, and with the fate of
-an Indian chief of the Youcómaco tribe, called Wiccónsat, the principal
-subject of the legend. If it will give you any pleasure, I will relate
-it while we rest on these sad ruins.”
-
-“Really, my dear friend,” replied Frank, “I feel almost as sentimental
-as yourself.”
-
-“Then I will take advantage of your serious mood and commence my simple
-tale.”
-
-“Among the early settlers at St. Mary’s, were the parents of Rosalie
-Egerton. She was an only daughter and beautiful. An accomplished mother
-had taught her many things of which few other females of the colony
-could boast. She accompanied her harp with the songs of distant lands,
-and with her needle embroidered scenes from the old world. Yet she loved
-to wander amidst the wild grandeur of her native forests, accompanied
-only by her little brother, for the neighboring Indians were harmless
-and friendly.
-
-“Wiccónsat was the son of an aged chief of the Youcómacoes. He was tall
-and elegantly formed, and straight as an arrow from his quiver. Mild and
-contemplative, he became a favorite among the settlers, from whom he
-learned not only to read and write, but many of their useful arts. But
-he had listened to the breathings of Rosalie’s harp, as he lingered near
-her dwelling, and had gazed after her fair form, as she wandered in the
-forest, until the Indian’s life had lost all charms for him. The smile
-of happy youth had fled, and when he sought his father’s wigwam, his eye
-was sad and restless. The old chief saw with sorrow the change.
-
-“‘A spell hath come o’er thee, Wiccónsat,’ he kindly said; ‘my son is no
-longer the same. When in childhood I first saw thy little hands bend the
-bow, I fondly thought thou would’st rival the hunting fame of thy
-father, and, when age had weakened my strength, should danger threaten
-our tribe, thou would’st head the chiefs in combat. The locks of
-Orrouiska are now gray, and his hand feeble. The supplies of his wigwam
-are scanty, for his son lingers among the better habitations of
-strangers. But I know thy secret. Thy hopeless love is placed on the
-fairest of the white fawns, one as far above thy reach as was the
-rainbow of yesterday. For though the son of a once powerful chief, the
-poorest of the pale faces would reject thy alliance. Then arouse thee,
-Wiccónsat, and despise their pride. The Great Spirit made us all equal,
-and the brightest of our Indian maidens would be proud of thy love. If
-thou dost prefer the plough of the white man to the bow of the hunter,
-’tis well, but turn the furrow in thy own fields.’
-
-“The youth answered not, but with a deep sigh, taking his quiver full of
-arrows, went out to the chase. He wandered on through the forest,
-forgetful of his first intention, until he found himself near the
-river’s bank, and by the dwelling of Rosalie, and soon beheld the
-maiden, with her little brother, in a small boat, which they had
-contrived to move out a few yards into the deep water. As she arose to
-reach some blossoms from the overhanging trees, her balance was lost,
-and she fell into the stream. In a moment the young Indian had plunged
-in to her relief, and bore her in safety to the bank. The cries of her
-brother had alarmed the family, who hurried to the river, and Wiccónsat,
-yielding his lovely burthen to her parents’ arms, hastened to escape
-from their grateful acknowledgments, to enjoy in solitude the delightful
-feelings that crowded his heart. It seemed a new era in his existence,
-and fairy dreams floated in his imagination. With buoyant and unwearied
-footsteps he pursued the chase, and returned to his father’s cabin
-loaded with the choicest game, the reward of his toil.
-
-“‘Come, dear Oskwena,’ said he to his young sister, who ran to welcome
-him, ‘prepare a feast for our father, while I dress these skins, to make
-a softer couch for his aged limbs.’
-
-“‘Gladly, brother,’ she replied, ‘but hast thou brought me any beads or
-ornaments from the colony?’
-
-“‘No, thou art too good and comely to need these trifles. Thy lover will
-prize thee more without them.’
-
-“‘Thou art mistaken, brother, for Potawissa loves to see my dark hair
-braided with beads, and their bright strings encircling my neck. Thy
-talk will do for the white fawns, with their cheeks like the wild rose
-and foreheads like the mountain snow; but the darker hue of Indian maids
-wants other ornaments.’
-
-“‘Thou hast well described the white fawns, sister,’ answered the young
-chief, ‘and shalt indeed have a gay necklace; but thou hast never heard
-the song of her who is brightest among them. Why the blest sounds on the
-air, which are said to call our fathers to the spirit-land on high, are
-not sweeter.’
-
-“‘Hush, hush,’ cried Oskwena, ‘how canst thou talk thus? I would not
-hear her strain, for it hath sadly altered thee.’
-
-“The bright visions of Wiccónsat were soon dispelled, for, with the next
-vessel from England, arrived a young relative of Rosalie’s family, who
-brought news of their having succeeded to an estate in their native
-country, to take possession of which they now made preparations to leave
-America. The charms of the maiden made an immediate impression on the
-heart of the young and accomplished Briton. His amiable qualities soon
-won her love, and, with the approval of her parents, it was arranged
-that their marriage should take place on their arrival in England.
-
-“The sad intelligence soon reached Wiccónsat, to whom the grateful
-family had shown many marks of attachment, little suspecting the sorrows
-they were preparing for the youthful chief. They knew not the secret
-homage of his heart, for its trembling hopes had never been breathed to
-the beautiful object of his love. In the innocence of grateful
-friendship, she presented him with an embroidered belt worked by her own
-hands, and assured him that she would never forget her generous
-preserver.—But when the day of their departure had arrived, and
-sorrowful friends crowded the vessel’s deck to take their last farewell,
-Wiccónsat was not there. Rosalie and her parents shed tears of regret,
-as the sails were spreading to waft them from their happy American home,
-and as their eyes sought its peaceful roof, they discovered near it, on
-a point of the river’s shore, the solitary figure of the young chief. It
-was at this spot he had rescued the maiden from a watery grave. She
-eagerly waved her white handkerchief in token of farewell, and the next
-moment saw the belt she had given him, floating on the air in a
-returning adieu. In a few minutes the vessel parted from the shore.
-
-“Many years after this, an interesting youth, accompanied by his tutor,
-arrived at St. Mary’s, from England. I know not in what state they found
-the town, but the youth’s first inquiries were for an Indian chief,
-called Wiccónsat, who had in early years saved the life of his mother.
-He was shown a lonely wigwam, on a point near the river. James Egerton,
-for it was my great grandfather, took an early opportunity of visiting
-it, but first inquired into the present character of its inmate. ‘He is
-mild and peaceful,’ said his informant, ‘and is sometimes called the
-Indian Hermit, for he seldom appears abroad except when hunting or
-fishing. He has lived thus for many years, is always melancholy, and
-dislikes the visits of the curious: ’Tis thought some misfortune in his
-youth has led him to prefer solitude.’—Thus informed, the young James
-proceeded to the river’s side. From description, he knew where had stood
-the home of his mother’s children, but sighed to perceive it in ruins,
-and leaning on a fragment of the broken wall, plucked a leaf from the
-vine that still clung to it, then, with lingering footsteps, sought the
-point. Seated on a rustic bench at the door of the cabin was a figure
-which he knew must be the chief, for he raised his tall, majestic form,
-and advanced to meet him, but paused suddenly, and gazed earnestly and
-inquiringly on his face.
-
-“The youth felt abashed, but with some effort addressed him: ‘Excuse
-this intrusion, good chief; I am the son of her, whose life you once
-saved.’
-
-“The recluse caught his offered hand.
-
-“‘And art thou indeed her child? oh! yes, that eye, that smile had awoke
-my memory before you spoke. Welcome art thou to the desolate Wiccónsat.’
-After some conversation, the youth drew from his bosom two small books,
-richly bound, and presented them as tokens of remembrance from his
-mother. The chief pressed them to his lips. ‘These will beguile many
-lonely hours, but, oh! hadst thou but brought me one lock of her hair.
-It was the colour of thine,’ he added, as he passed his hand over the
-rich brown curls of the son of Rosalie. ‘Alas! good chief,’ he replied,
-‘sorrow, rather than time, has robbed those locks of their beauty. Death
-has bereaved my beloved mother of her parents and of several children. I
-alone survive.’ ‘And can sorrow reach one so good? Then why should I
-repine?—From this point, dear boy, I saw thy mother and her parents
-depart, and here I raised my lonely habitation. For years, I indulged
-the vain hope of their return, and whenever I saw a large vessel enter
-the river, I silently mingled with the crowd on the shore. But wearied
-hope has long since fled, memory alone remains.’
-
-“‘And yet you may again behold my parents, for it is their intention to
-visit Maryland in a short time.’ Surprise and joy beamed in the
-countenance of the Indian, and from that hour he continued cheerful, but
-his greatest present enjoyment arose from the frequent visits of his
-young friend, to whom he daily became more attached. ’Tis true, the
-tutor of James disapproved of his spending so much time with one whom he
-considered an untutored savage, but the warm-hearted boy knew his Indian
-favorite to be possessed of pure and lofty principles, with noble and
-generous feelings.
-
-“Wiccónsat now mingled once more with the white inhabitants, and pointed
-out to the inquiring youth whatever was interesting. The remains of the
-Indian village were still visible, and the few chiefs that visited the
-town still fondly called it Youcómico. But their tribe had removed to a
-greater distance, and there was now little communication between them
-and the colonists.
-
-“Several months elapsed and the time drew near when the young Briton
-expected once more to embrace his parents. They had informed him, by
-letter, of their intention to embark on board the Huntress, which would
-sail in two weeks, and nearly a month had passed since the reception of
-this letter. It was probable then, that they were near the American
-coast.”
-
-Here the narrator paused.
-
-“Why do you not proceed?” asked Frank.
-
-“Because I think it will be better to finish the story as we return. It
-grows late, and I wish to gather some little remembrance.”
-
-From various parts of the ruins he now selected something to carry with
-him, and was loading Basil and Luke with similar trophies, who appeared
-to place little value on them, as they dropped some at every step. At
-length they returned to the boat, in which they deposited the cumbrous
-relics, and left the shore. But a new object excited the curiosity of
-Egerton, and, with a look of entreaty, he turned to his friend.
-
-“You have been very patient and kind, dear Frank, and now we are in the
-boat, let us go a little further up the river! That point above must be
-the spot on which stood the wigwam of Wiccónsat.”
-
-“You will find it a difficult matter to prove that,” returned Frank,
-“however, we will go.”
-
-“It’s a good place for fishing,” said Basil, “and we have a line.”
-
-The first object that struck their view on landing at the point, was a
-collection of half decayed boards.
-
-“See here! conviction strong!” cried the delighted Egerton.
-
-“Nonsense,” said Frank, “they are the remains of some old fishing hut or
-flat boat. Indian wigwams are not made of boards.”
-
-“How incredulous you are,” returned his friend. “Surely the melancholy
-chief had been long enough among white men to adopt their materials.”
-
-“Very well, shall we load the boat with them as relics?”
-
-“You are jesting; but I should really like to rebuild it, if we had
-time. Where are Basil and Luke?”
-
-“More profitably employed—fishing; but we will return in a day or two,
-and try whether a wigwam can be made of it.” The young Briton had seated
-himself on one of the boards, and seemed lost in contemplation, while
-Frank quietly withdrew to see the luck of the fishers—who, in the
-meantime, had not forgotten the two youths, but, in their simple phrase,
-were discussing the point at issue:
-
-“Why, Old Nora could tell him plenty about the Ingens,” said Basil, “for
-her grandmother told her, and she saw a power of ’em in her time—but he
-only seems to care about one—and I can’t say I ever heard Nora go over
-such a strange name as that.”
-
-“They were smart, them chiefs, in their time,” observed Luke, “for they
-say our folks learned to make the canoes from ’em, and I’d put ’em
-against any boat that swims.”
-
-“But they won’t hold much of a crew, Luke, let alone passengers, and as
-there’s four of us, and a heavy load of Massa Egerton’s nelics, as he
-calls them; besides, it’s lucky we’ve got something bigger to float home
-in.”
-
-Their angling had not been very successful in the short time they had
-engaged in it, and at Frank’s request, the boat was again put in
-readiness for their departure.
-
-Once more on the water, Frank reminded his friend of the promised
-conclusion of his story.
-
-“I thought you had forgotten it,” replied Egerton, smiling, “but I will
-with pleasure gratify you. I believe we left my ancestor expecting the
-early arrival of his parents at St. Mary’s, and I will now proceed to
-give you the other portion of the legend.
-
-“One evening, after his usual visit to the wigwam, James was slowly
-returning to his lodgings. Lost in thought, he did not at first perceive
-that heavy clouds were gathering in the sky, but the sudden darkness
-made him quicken his pace.
-
-“‘You are late this evening, Master James,’ said his tutor, as he met
-him at the door, ‘you waste a great deal of time with that wild Indian,
-and I am glad your parents are coming to take charge of you.’ ‘I am glad
-too,’ thought his pupil, but he did not say so, and soon after retired
-to rest.
-
-“The sleep of innocent youth is ever sound, and a severe storm which
-arose had been raging some time before it broke his deep slumber.
-
-“He started from his pillow, and his first thoughts were fears for his
-parents’ safety. The wind roared fearfully, and the rain beat in
-torrents against his chamber window. He looked out on the thick darkness
-that obscured every object, and his heart sunk within him at the dreary
-view. Overcome with the distress of his feelings, he leaned against the
-casement, and gave vent to the friendly tears that often relieve the
-sadness of boyhood. Suddenly a faint and distant flash of light broke
-through the gloom. It was gone, but a sound followed which, even amid
-the howling of the storm, could not be mistaken. It struck on the ear of
-the weeping boy, with startling certainty.
-
-“‘It is, oh! yes, it is a signal gun of distress, oh! my mother! my
-father!’ and sinking on his knees, he breathed an agonized prayer for
-their safety, then starting to his feet, he hastily threw on his
-clothes, and hurried down stairs without knowing his object. The house
-stood near the river, and on opening the door he saw some person moving
-along the bank. He approached; it was the chief. ‘Is it you, Wiccónsat?
-oh! what a night!’ The Indian pressed his hand in gloomy silence, and
-stood in a listening attitude, with his face turned towards that part of
-the horizon from whence the flash had appeared. Another gleamed across
-the dismal night, and the sullen peal that followed, fell, like the bolt
-of death, on their hearts.
-
-“‘It is a call for aid,’ exclaimed the chief, ‘and perhaps thy mother’s
-life is in danger.’ ‘And my father’s too,’ added the shuddering boy.
-‘Alas! Wiccónsat, what can we do?’ ‘I follow that light,’ he answered,
-as the flash of another minute gun shone.
-
-“‘Oh! take me then with you, good chief, leave me not here in suspense!’
-
-“‘Alas! my boy, this stormy night ill suits thy tender frame. Wait thou
-till morning breaks, then thou canst follow with some of the townsmen.
-The light seems near the mouth of the Potomac.’
-
-“‘Who speaks below,’ said the tutor’s voice from the window; ‘surely,
-Master James, you are not out on such a night?’ ‘Indeed I am,’ replied
-the youth, ‘there is a vessel in distress, it may be the Huntress, in
-which my parents are expected; surely I cannot sleep now.’
-
-“‘Well, well, if that’s the case, it’s bad enough, but I think it’s not
-probable; however, I’ll be down directly.’ By this time several of the
-neighbours had joined them, and they determined to proceed in the
-supposed direction of the vessel. By the first dawn of light they found
-themselves on the shore of the Potomac river, near its entrance into the
-Chesapeake Bay. The rain had ceased, and daylight, as it broke from the
-clouded east, shewed to their anxious gaze, a dismasted vessel, which
-appeared in a wrecked and sinking state. Two boats, crowded with the
-crew and passengers, were seen contending with the raging waves,
-endeavouring to reach the land. Some water casks which had been washed
-on shore, were eagerly examined by the distressed James, to discover the
-name of the vessel. It met his eye, and with a cry of terror he threw
-himself into the arms of the Indian.
-
-“‘It is the Huntress! oh! Wiccónsat! my parents will be lost!’
-
-“‘Hast thou no confidence in the Great Being thy mother worships?’ he
-softly said, as he pressed him to his breast, but his eye was fairly
-fixed on one of the boats, in which he thought he could distinguish the
-garments of a female. The foaming waters seemed to threaten instant
-destruction to the frail barques, as they tost from wave to wave,
-sometimes half hid in the surf that broke over them. At this moment a
-mingled cry reached the shore, and but one boat was seen, the other was
-’whelmed beneath the waters. Wiccónsat broke from the clinging arms of
-the youth, and plunged into the waves. For some time he was lost to
-their view, but his strong and sinewy arms forced a passage to the scene
-of distress, and in a short time he was seen returning, supporting, with
-one arm, the form of a female. The young James, who had been forcibly
-withheld from following, now rushed to meet him, and Rosalie (for it was
-she) opened her eyes to be clasped to the bosom of her son. She lived,
-she breathed, and the first word that trembled on her lips was the name
-of her husband. Scarcely had she spoken, ere the generous chief had
-again thrown himself into the waves. But his strength was exhausted by
-previous exertion, and when, with difficulty, he had nearly reached the
-overturned boat to which the husband of Rosalie, with others, now clung,
-a floating piece of the ship’s mast struck him on the temple. In the
-mean time, the other boat had safely landed its crew, and was despatched
-to the aid of the sufferers, who were all, with the exception of two,
-saved.
-
-“Rosalie had been conveyed to the nearest house, and restoratives were
-applied, which soon brought her to a state of recollection. She
-recognized with joy, the form of her husband, as he knelt by the side of
-her couch, and pressed, with a mother’s fondness, the hand of her
-affectionate son. But her eyes wandered around the room as if in search
-of another object. ‘It was a dream then,’ she murmured, ‘it was not his,
-but thy dear arm that drew thy mother from the waves.’
-
-“‘Alas! no, it was he, the generous and the good,’ replied her son.
-
-“‘Wiccónsat! brave chief! but why those looks of anguish; is this, my
-son, a time for sorrow, when Heaven has been so kind? And my preserver,
-where lingers he?’
-
-“‘Where his bright virtues will be best rewarded,’ replied her husband,
-solemnly.
-
-“‘What mean you? Surely he is safe.’
-
-“‘He perished in an attempt to save my life.’ She heard no more, for she
-had fainted in the arms of her son, and it was long ere she revived, to
-mingle with theirs her tears of unavailing regret.
-
-“In the afternoon the body of the generous Indian was washed on shore.
-With every mark of respect it was conveyed to the town, and preparations
-made for its interment on the following day at the point, in a spot once
-pointed out, by the chief, to young Egerton. The grief of this
-affectionate boy burst without restraint, as he leaned over the body of
-his departed friend, and his tears flowed afresh, when he was shown a
-folded paper, which had been found in his bosom. It was wet through, and
-contained the faded belt, the treasured gift of Rosalie.
-
-“Intelligence of the sad event was conveyed to the sister of the chief,
-and the next day, accompanied by her husband and sons, and several
-warriors of the Youcómaco tribe, Oskwena arrived, just as the funeral
-procession was moving to the grave. Time had altered this once beautiful
-daughter of the forest; there was a mildness in her look of grief, as
-she left the canoe, and led by her two sons, approached the open grave,
-where, seating herself by its side, she silently awaited the mournful
-train that bore her brother to his last home. She uttered a faint cry as
-her eye rested on the coffin, and her whole frame shook with agitation,
-when it was lowered from her sight.
-
-“The chiefs arranged themselves in gloomy silence around the grave of
-him, who, in early youth, had been the boast of their tribe, and heard,
-rather than listened, to the funeral service. It was scarcely ended,
-when the hitherto restrained grief of Oskwena burst forth. She tore from
-her dishevelled locks the rude ornaments of her tribe, scattering them
-on the ground, but a necklace of beads she retained in her hand, and
-wept bitterly as she looked on it.
-
-“‘It was thy gift, Wiccónsat,’ said the mourner, ‘thy face glowed with
-youth and hope on the happy day thou gavest it. Our aged father blessed
-his children, for he had not then passed to the spirit-land above. The
-beads are bright yet, but thou art faded and gone. I can gaze on them no
-more, they shall be hid with thee,’ and she dropped them into the grave.
-The spectators looked on her with pity and disturbed her not, as in a
-low voice she chaunted a wild funeral melody. When she ceased, several
-young maidens of St. Mary’s, arrayed in white, approached, and scattered
-flowers around the grave. The oldest son of Oskwena stood, with his
-father, among the chiefs. To him the beauty of the white maidens was
-new, for he had never before been allowed to visit the town.
-
-“‘Who are they?’ he asked, eagerly leaning forward, but then the stern
-Potawissa drew him back, as he replied in a low voice, ‘It matters not,
-it is enough that they cannot be aught to thee. Look not on their fatal
-beauty, but let that lonely grave warn thee of danger. It was hopeless
-love for a pale face like theirs, that induced thy mother’s brother to
-forsake the tribe that idolized him; to lead a life of solitude, and at
-last to perish for her sake. And now he sleeps not with the bones of his
-fathers, and the talk of the white man is heard by his grave, instead of
-the bold death song of our chiefs. Nay, thou art gazing still; turn from
-them boy,’ and suddenly drawing him round, he held him firmly until the
-fair group had retired. A faint shriek from Oskwena drew his attention.
-He saw the attendants were filling up the grave, and hastened to remove
-her sinking form. In a few minutes the crowd had dispersed, the chiefs
-again entered their boats, and young Egerton, with his father, alone
-remained on the silent shore.
-
-“The family remained but a short time in Maryland, for the health of
-Rosalie had sustained a shock from which it never recovered. She faded
-before the agonized view of her husband and son, and died shortly after
-their return to England. As one of their descendants, I have long wished
-to visit the scene of their sorrows, and in doing so, I have formed a
-friendship which, believe me, dear Frank, will always be cherished in my
-heart. The kind hospitality of your good uncle made me forget I was a
-stranger, and though we must part in a few days, time or distance will
-never erase the remembrance of my American friends.”
-
------
-
-[2] A fact.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- SONNETS.
-
-
- BY HENRY B. HIRST.
-
-
- GERTRUDE.
-
- There is a sweet expression in thy face,
- My gentle one! leading the thoughts away
- From earthliness, and this vile orb of clay,—
- Bidding my spirit in its yearnings trace
- Something immortal in the beauties there!
- I do not worship loveliness—but look
- On woman’s face, as on a speaking book,
- Where God hath stamped his image clear and fair!
- And thine is one so radiant of him,
- So calm and pure, one cannot fail to see
- Such purity of soul portrayed in thee,
- That other faces by thy side grow dim,
- And, bowing down unto thy brighter worth,
- I deem thee one too fair and chaste for earth!
-
- IANTHE.
-
- High thoughts are chiseled on that lofty brow!
- Proud consciousness of virtue in thy smile!
- Thy cheeks, the blush of, speaks thee free from guile;
- Thine eyes have in their spiritual flow,
- A dignity and grandeur, and a glow
- Which lift the gazer’s spirit up on high,
- As soars the eagle to the sun-lit sky!
- Thou art a thing to worship! and I throw
- My soaring spirit conquered at thy feet,—
- But not to beauty, tho’ ’tis unsurpassed,
- But to the wealth of intellect ’tis cast;
- Deeming the earth beneath the proudest seat,
- Where I would sit, and on perfection gaze,
- Sunning my soul beneath thine eyes’ soft rays!
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE MOONLIGHT FLITTING;
-
-
- OR, THE MISTAKE.
-
-
- BY ELIZA VAN HORN ELLIS.
-
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
-The moon shone serenely clear over hill and dale, her silver rays
-playing on the dull gray earth with sportive fancy, while not a zephyr
-seemed upon the wing, and all nature slumbered in the stillness of a
-warm summer evening, when, from one of the neat white cottages of the
-village of ——, issued two figures, completely enveloped in cloaks,
-notwithstanding the thermometer stood at nearly ninety. Not a word was
-spoken, but with stealthy steps they chased their shadows along the
-silent streets for a good half mile; although twice or thrice one of the
-figures paused and heaved convulsively, whether from lack of breath or
-agitation seemed doubtful. At length they stopped before a cottage,
-whose proximity to the church bespoke the _parsonage_; a light twinkled
-through the casement; the muffled fugitives rapt gently at the door; it
-was opened, and they entered.
-
-The old moss-grown church clock had just proclaimed, in solemn tones,
-the hour of nine, on the next morning, when two ladies, whose looks
-bespoke them far upon the road of _time_—clad in black silk bonnets and
-mitts—came slowly down the streets, shaded by the spreading elms. These
-good gossips appeared deeply engaged in conversation, looking so
-intently into each other’s face, that sundry fowls, young pigs, and
-small dogs miraculously escaped a sudden and violent death.
-
-“Can you believe it yet, Mrs. Potts?” cried the lesser of the two
-ladies; “such a reflection upon our quiet village—good gracious and
-powers! preserve us from such assurance.” Thus saying, she rolled up the
-balls of her eyes, and clasped her hands together with pious fervor.
-
-“Not only that, my dear Miss Clapper, but such an example to the
-daughters of the place!” and Mrs. Potts sighed, as she thought of her
-six damsels, who still remained in single blessedness, notwithstanding
-the many little innocent manœuvres to which mammas will sometimes have
-recourse.
-
-“Yes, indeed, it behoves you, Mrs. Potts, to keep a sharp look-out. Will
-you visit her—the good-for-naught?”
-
-“W-e-ll, what do you think about it? If _we_ cut her all the village
-will. What say you?”
-
-“To be sure, to be sure, that’s true; her place in society depends upon
-_us_, my dear. She gives such pleasant parties, such excellent soft
-waffles, and then one meets sometimes such agreeable people from the
-city there, which gives the girls a chance, you know, (winking
-knowingly,) that it would be a pity to throw her off.”
-
-“I agree with you, my dear Miss Clapper—and—after all, she’s honestly
-married, although she stole away, like a thief in the night.”
-
-“Suppose we just stop and ask Katy a few questions. May be they wish to
-keep it a secret. Here we are by the house—shall we stop?”
-
-“I have no objections, my dear; but you’ll get nothing out of that piece
-of sour-crout.”
-
-“I’ll pump her; leave me alone for _that_.”
-
-Accordingly the two loving, neighborly gossips rapt at the door of the
-white cottage from whence had stolen forth the fugitives the night
-previous.
-
-The loud knock announced the aristocracy of the village; the door
-opened, and the sharp bluish features of Katy filled up the aperture.
-Her small _gravy_ eyes blinked for a moment when she beheld the
-visitors; the next Katy stood the personification of gravity.
-
-“Well, Katy,” cried Miss Clapper, in her most dulcet tones, “how _do_
-you do this fine morn? all well, I hope,” making an effort to open wider
-the door.
-
-“Why, yes, Miss; a very fine morning, and we are all well, thanks be to
-goodness,” answered Katy, holding the door still closer, and protruding
-her nose still farther, so that the sudden slam of the door would have
-deprived that venerable spinster of that most conspicuous of all
-features, a _red nose_. “Sorry I can’t ask you both in—but nobody’s
-home.”
-
-“Ah! so, then, it’s true, what we heard this morning,” said Mrs. Potts.
-
-“Can’t say, indeed, Marm, as I don’t know what you might have heard.”
-
-“Oh! only that your mistress ran off last night and was married, and
-went away this morning in the village hack,” almost screamed Miss
-Clapper.
-
-“And so my mistress _is_ married, and I know some that would like to be
-in her shoes, if they could but get the chance.”
-
-“Well, well, Katy, no offence is meant,” cried Mrs. Potts; “when will
-the bride be home?”
-
-“She bade me tell you, Marm, and Miss Clapper, (and she wants you to
-tell the village) that on Thursday evening the doors will be thrown open
-and the candles lighted, and you will see _her_ and _plenty_ of wedding
-cake and good wine.” Thus saying, she gently closed the door.
-
-“So! it’s no secret after all,” cried Mrs. Potts; “Katy made no bones at
-confession.”
-
-“No! the old she devil! how I hate that creature—she always _Miss-es_
-one so—never calls me any thing but _Miss_!—_Miss!_—She shan’t read
-it on my tomb-stone, if I can help it,” muttered _Miss_ Clapper.
-
-Faithfully did these village circulars perform their agreeable task.
-Before the sun sank to rest, every individual, from the lady of the
-member of the legislature to the shoe-black in the inn, had heard the
-news, and had formed dreams of the coming event. The bride and
-bride-cake—beaux and belles, had been reviewed in the mind’s eye o’er
-and o’er again.
-
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
-When a young man, Mr. Hopkins arrived upon the spot where now stands the
-village of ——, with his bundle upon his stick, his sole fortune. He
-became what may be termed a squatter. It was then a dreary waste of
-girdled trees, and patches covered with black stumps. But his untiring
-perseverance and systematic industry were rewarded in time by beholding,
-from his cottage door, the fields of waving corn and the golden wheat,
-where once lurked the savage and prowled the ravenous beast.
-
-In course of time, the place became settled; the present village sprang
-into existence; Mr. Hopkins “grew with its growth, and strengthened with
-its strength;” in short, Mr. Hopkins became a rich man, and consequently
-a man of consequence.
-
-Mrs. Hopkins (poor good soul) died ere she could enjoy the wealth that
-her patient labors had assisted her husband in accumulating. She left
-one daughter, christened Dinah, and two sons. Upon the death of the “old
-man,” the sons moved to a strange land, (that is, about a hundred miles
-from their native vale.) Miss Dinah, or rather Diana, as she chose to be
-called, after the immortal Die Vernon, remained upon the “old place,” to
-uphold, as she properly said, the dignity of the Hopkinses.
-
-Thus years wore away. Miss Die became the tyrant of fashion in her own
-village. She read Shakspeare, doated on Byron, and was subdued by Sir
-Walter Scott’s works. She languished and quoted poetry for nearly forty
-years. In youth, she scorned the rustic beaux that kneeled at her
-shrine; and, as years sped onward, none “bowed nor told their tale of
-love,” until, at length, Miss Die began seriously to think of a visit to
-her brothers, when the kind _fates_ brought Mr. Micalf to the village,
-and there left him to the mercy of Cupid.
-
-The _major_ (as he was familiarly called) was rather short of stature,
-with an alderman’s corpulency,—famous for his good-nature, intolerable
-indolence, and devotion to whiskey-punch and the noxious weed. Being
-asthmatic, he seldom had recourse to any exertion—a long walk would
-cause him to puff and blow at least for a minute, ere he could catch
-breath to utter a word. Still Mr. Micalf found breath enough to become a
-successful wooer—and Miss Die persuaded her swain to elope with her by
-moonlight, as she could never survive the stare of the plebeians by the
-light of “gaudy day.”
-
-It ever remained a doubt in the village, what was the exact age of the
-major. Many were of an opinion that sixty winters had frosted his brow.
-Others again asserted that he did not number, by a score, as many years
-as his bride. These latter, however, were the ladies.
-
-Thursday arrived—and, after a weary watching from many a beaming eye,
-the sun at length disappeared behind the distant mountains, and twilight
-gently threw over the glowing sky its mantle of sombre gray. Lights
-flitted to and fro through the houses; an unusual bustle hummed through
-the quiet streets; the horses, disturbed after a day of labor, to be
-brought forth and harnessed to whatever vehicle their masters could
-boast of possessing, hung down their weary heads, with slow and measured
-steps patiently submitting to the yoke of bondage.
-
-The sudden glare of lights, that streamed through the casements of the
-white cottage over the gravel walks, announced that preparations had
-ceased, and that visitors were momentarily expected.
-
-There was the bride, her tall gaunt figure arrayed in white, flitting
-from room to room, not knowing where to station herself to make the best
-impression, and inwardly chafing at the perfume of tobacco that met her
-olfactory nerves, and the loss of her reticule, wherein were the keys of
-sundry closets and so forth, when the door opened and Mr., Mrs., and the
-four Misses Potts, with Miss Clapper, beheld the bride upon knees and
-hands, looking under an immense old-fashioned settee for her lost
-treasure.
-
-Mrs. Micalf looked up, sprang to her feet, uttered a faint scream, and
-for a moment hid her face—then yielded her cheek to the salutations of
-the six ladies, and with much coyness permitted Mr. Potts to touch the
-tip of her ear.
-
-“Well, I declare, I think you served us a pretty trick, Mrs. Micalf—a
-lady of your years to make a moonlight flitting—oh, fie!” cried Miss
-Clapper, in a querulous voice.
-
-“Oh, spare me, dear friends; I feel the full force of the imprudence of
-the step. But be this my excuse, ‘I’ve scanned the actions of his daily
-life,’ and flatter myself I have secured happiness.”
-
-“And Mr. Micalf to steal away so—he who hates walking so. Why, I
-thought it would almost have killed him to walk so far.”
-
-“You are right, old lady,” cried the groom, who had entered unperceived,
-and slapping Miss Clapper upon the shoulder; “I can’t believe it yet; I
-haven’t drawn a long breath since—wheugh!—But Die would not be married
-any other way, though I told her we were making a couple of old fools of
-ourselves—wheugh—u—u—Never mind, Die, don’t be cast down at being
-called old—we all know you were young once! ha, ha! wheugh—u! Come,
-Potts, let’s go and drink good luck to midnight walks.”
-
-“Mr. Micalf is so boisterous when he is in good spirits, and he does so
-love to plague me!” cried the bride, the quivering of her nostrils and
-upper lip expressing the workings of the inward passions.
-
-Knock succeeded knock, and the influx of visitors, with the oft-repeated
-“wish you joy, wish you joy,” soon restored harmony to the spirits of
-the bride, who was in extacies at the crowd that had gathered around
-her. She quoted poetry, right and left; forgot, for the moment, that
-tobacco and punch existed; and some assert that even the major was
-forgotten! That was but scandal, however. Nevertheless, the major
-enjoyed seven pipes and five tumblers of punch, without once hearing the
-sound of Die’s voice; a luxury which, in the warmth of his feelings he
-solemnly whispered to Potts, had not been permitted him since his
-moonlight trip.
-
-The hours sped onward—the merry laugh that rang so loud and clear from
-the midst of a group of young folks who were playing “hunt the slipper,”
-“my lady’s toilette,” &c. caused the heads of the matrons to turn from
-each other in high displeasure at the interruption of some tale of
-scandal!
-
-The happiest moments, still the fleetest!—the hour arrived—the guests
-departed, and the mistress of the _fairy_ scene began to wonder what had
-become of her lord. Looking through the empty rooms, peering in every
-corner by the aid of a feeble night-lamp, and almost suffocated with the
-vapor of candle-snuff, she was startled by the sonorous notes from her
-husband’s nasal organ. “I do believe the ass has gone to bed,” she
-mentally ejaculated. Rushing into her room, she beheld the head of the
-major, with his blue and white night-cap snugly resting upon her fine
-linen _day_ pillow-cases. Jerking the pillows from under the offending
-head, she screamed:
-
-“Major! why, Micalf, you are sleeping upon my beautiful cases with real
-thread-lace borders!”
-
-“Bless me, what is the matter? Is the house on fire? O Lord, I smell
-smoke—fire!—fire!”
-
-“Do be quiet now, and don’t make a fool of yourself; it’s only the
-pillow I wanted.”
-
-“Oh, Die! is that you? You have frightened the very life out of me. Give
-me something to put under my head; my neck is almost broke.”
-
-“There, my dear, is the night pillow. Now, never presume to go to bed
-again, until the cover is turned down and the day cases removed,
-and—bless me, how you have tossed the bed! Why, major, major, are you
-asleep already?”
-
-“What is it, for heaven’s sake? Am I never to know what rest is again?”
-
-“But, my dear—major, I say, shall I tuck you up snugly?”
-
-“No! the devil! I don’t want to be reminded of my coffin every night by
-being tucked up,” and away went the clothes from the foot and side. “Oh,
-how I wish——” groaned the major, as Mrs. Micalf again patiently
-smoothed them down. The wish died upon his tongue, but it was embodied
-in his dreams:—Once more he was the quiet possessor of the snug little
-room, and no less snug little bed, at the “Full Moon,” the atmosphere
-dense with tobacco-smoke and the vapor of whiskey-punch regaling his
-nose—when the shrill, sharp voice of his help-meet, at dawn of day,
-dispelled the illusion, and, with the sun, he arose with the comfortable
-thought that he was not the only being that had sold peace and happiness
-for _gold_. And, ere the honey-moon had expired, Mr. and Mrs. Micalf
-began to perceive that they had made a great mistake in their moonlight
-flitting.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- I NEVER HAVE BEEN FALSE TO THEE.
-
-
- A NEW SONG.
-
-
- BY GEORGE P. MORRIS.
-
-
- I never have been false to thee!
- The heart I gave thee still is thine;
- Though thou hast been untrue to me,
- And I no more may call thee mine!
- I’ve loved, as woman ever loves,
- With constant soul in good or ill:—
- Thou’st proved, as man too often proves,
- A rover—but I love thee still!
-
- Yet think not that my spirit stoops
- To bind thee captive in my train!—
- Love’s not a flower, at sunset droops,
- But smiles when comes her god again!
- Thy words, which fall unheeded now,
- Could once my heart-strings madly thrill!
- Love’s golden chain and burning vow
- Are broken—but I love thee still!
-
- Once what a heaven of bliss was ours,
- When love dispelled the clouds of care,
- And time went by with birds and flowers,
- While song and incense filled the air!—
- The past is mine—the present thine—
- Should thoughts of me thy future fill,
- Think what a destiny is mine,
- To lose—but love thee, false one, still!
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- A CHAPTER ON AUTOGRAPHY.
-
-
- BY
-
-
-[Illustration: signature of Edgar A. Poe]
-
-Under this head, some years ago, there appeared, in the Southern
-Literary Messenger, an article which attracted very general attention,
-not less from the nature of its subject than from the peculiar manner in
-which it was handled. The editor introduces his readers to a certain Mr.
-Joseph Miller, who, it is hinted, is not merely a descendant of the
-illustrious Joe, of Jest-Book notoriety, but that identical individual
-in proper person. Upon this point, however, an air of uncertainty is
-thrown by means of an equivoque, maintained throughout the paper, in
-respect to Mr. Miller’s middle name. This equivoque is put into the
-mouth of Mr. M. himself. He gives his name, in the first instance, as
-Joseph A. Miller; but, in the course of conversation, shifts it to
-Joseph B., then to Joseph C., and so on through the whole alphabet,
-until he concludes by desiring a copy of the Magazine to be sent to his
-address as Joseph Z. Miller, Esquire.
-
-The object of his visit to the editor is to place in his hands the
-autographs of certain distinguished American _literati_. To these
-persons he had written rigmarole letters on various topics, and in all
-cases had been successful in eliciting a reply. The replies only (which
-it is scarcely necessary to say are all fictitious) are given in the
-Magazine, with a genuine autograph fac-simile appended, and are either
-burlesques of the supposed writer’s usual style, or rendered otherwise
-absurd by reference to the nonsensical questions imagined to have been
-propounded by Mr. Miller. The autographs thus given are twenty-six in
-all—corresponding to the twenty-six variations in the initial letter of
-the hoaxer’s middle name.
-
-With the public this article took amazingly well, and many of our
-principal papers were at the expense of re-printing it with the wood-cut
-autographs. Even those whose names had been introduced, and whose style
-had been burlesqued, took the joke, generally speaking, in good part.
-Some of them were at a loss what to make of the matter. Dr. W. E.
-Channing, of Boston, was at some trouble, it is said, in calling to mind
-whether he had or had not actually written to some Mr. Joseph Miller the
-letter attributed to him in the article. This letter was nothing more
-than what follows:—
-
- Boston, ——.
-
- Dear Sir,
-
- No such person as Philip Philpot has ever been in my employ as a
- coachman, or otherwise. The name is an odd one, and not likely
- to be forgotten. The man must have reference to some other
- Doctor Channing. It would be as well to question him closely.
-
- Respectfully yours,
- W. E. CHANNING.
- To Joseph X. Miller, Esq.
-
-The precise and brief sententiousness of the divine is here, it will be
-seen, very truly adopted, or “hit off.”
-
-In one instance only was the _jeu-d’esprit_ taken in serious dudgeon.
-Colonel Stone and the Messenger had not been upon the best of terms.
-Some one of the Colonel’s little brochures had been severely treated by
-that journal, which declared that the work would have been far more
-properly published among the quack advertisements in a spare corner of
-the Commercial. The colonel had retaliated by wholesale vituperation of
-the Messenger. This being the state of affairs, it was not to be
-wondered at that the following epistle was not quietly received on the
-part of him to whom it was attributed:—
-
- New York, ——.
-
- Dear Sir,
-
- I am exceedingly and excessively sorry that it is out of my
- power to comply with your rational and reasonable request. The
- subject you mention is one with which I am utterly unacquainted.
- Moreover it is one about which I know very little.
-
- Respectfully,
- W. L. STONE.
- Joseph V. Miller, Esq.
-
-These tautologies and anti-climaces were too much for the colonel, and
-we are ashamed to say that he committed himself by publishing in the
-Commercial an indignant denial of ever having indited such an epistle.
-
-The principal feature of this autograph article, although perhaps the
-least interesting, was that of the editorial comment upon the supposed
-MSS., regarding them as indicative of character. In these comments the
-design was never more than semi-serious. At times, too, the writer was
-evidently led into error or injustice through the desire of being
-pungent—not unfrequently sacrificing truth for the sake of a _bon-mot_.
-In this manner qualities were often attributed to individuals, which
-were not so much indicated by their hand-writing, as suggested by the
-spleen of the commentator. But that a strong analogy _does_ generally
-and naturally exist between every man’s chirography and character, will
-be denied by none but the unreflecting. It is not our purpose, however,
-to enter into the _philosophy_ of this subject, either in this portion
-of the present paper, or in the abstract. What we may have to say will
-be introduced elsewhere, and in connection with particular MSS. The
-practical application of the theory will thus go hand in hand with the
-theory itself.
-
-Our design is three-fold:—In the first place, seriously to illustrate
-our position that the mental features are indicated (with certain
-exceptions) by the hand-writing; secondly, to indulge in a little
-literary gossip; and, thirdly, to furnish our readers with a more
-accurate and at the same time a more general collection of the
-autographs of our _literati_ than is to be found elsewhere. Of the first
-portion of this design we have already spoken. The second speaks for
-itself. Of the third it is only necessary to say that we are confident
-of its interest for all lovers of literature. Next to the person of a
-distinguished man-of-letters, we desire to see his portrait—next to his
-portrait, his autograph. In the latter, especially, there is something
-which seems to bring him before us in his true idiosyncrasy—in his
-character of _scribe_. The feeling which prompts to the collection of
-autographs is a natural and rational one. But complete, or even
-extensive collections, are beyond the reach of those who themselves do
-not dabble in the waters of literature. The writer of this article has
-had opportunities, in this way, enjoyed by few. The MSS. now lying
-before him are a motley mass indeed. Here are letters, or other
-compositions, from every individual in America who has the slightest
-pretension to literary celebrity. From these we propose to select the
-most eminent names—as to give _all_ would be a work of supererogation.
-Unquestionably, among those whose claims we are forced to postpone, are
-several whose high _merit_ might justly demand a different treatment;
-but the rule applicable in a case like this seems to be that of
-celebrity, rather than that of true worth. It will be understood that,
-in the necessity of selection which circumstances impose upon us, we
-confine ourselves _to the most noted among the living literati of the
-country_. The article above alluded to, embraced, as we have already
-stated, only twenty-six names, and was not occupied _exclusively_ either
-with living persons, or, properly speaking, with literary ones. In fact
-the whole paper seemed to acknowledge no law beyond that of whim. Our
-present essay will be found to include _one hundred autographs_. We have
-thought it unnecessary to preserve any particular order in their
-arrangement.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Chas (Charles) Anthon]
-
-Professor Charles Anthon, of Columbia College, New York, is well known
-as the most erudite of our classical scholars; and, although still a
-young man, there are few, if any, even in Europe, who surpass him in his
-peculiar path of knowledge. In England his supremacy has been tacitly
-acknowledged by the immediate re-publication of his editions of Cæsar,
-Sallust, and Cicero, with other works, and their adoption as text-books
-at Oxford and Cambridge. His amplification of Lemprière did him high
-honor, but, of late, has been entirely superseded by a Classical
-Dictionary of his own—a work most remarkable for the extent and
-comprehensiveness of its details, as well as for its historical,
-chronological, mythological, and philological _accuracy_. It has at once
-completely overshadowed every thing of its kind. It follows, as a matter
-of course, that Mr. Anthon has many little enemies, among the inditers
-of merely big books. He has not been unassailed, yet has assuredly
-remained uninjured in the estimation of all those whose opinion he would
-be likely to value. We do not mean to say that he is altogether without
-faults, but a certain antique Johnsonism of style is perhaps one of his
-worst. He was mainly instrumental (with Professor Henry and Dr. Hawks)
-in setting on foot the New York Review, a journal of which he is the
-most efficient literary support, and whose most erudite papers have
-always been furnished by his pen.
-
-The chirography of Professor Anthon is the most regularly beautiful of
-any in our collection. We see the most scrupulous precision, finish, and
-neatness about every portion of it—in the formation of individual
-letters, as well as in the _tout-ensemble_. The perfect symmetry of the
-MS. gives it, to a casual glance, the appearance of Italic print. The
-lines are quite straight, and at exactly equal distances, yet are
-written without black rules, or other artificial aid. There is not the
-slightest superfluity, in the way of flourish or otherwise, with the
-exception of the twirl in the C of the signature. Yet the whole is
-rather neat and graceful than forcible. Of four letters now lying before
-us, one is written on pink, one on a faint blue, one on green, and one
-on yellow paper—all of the finest quality. The seal is of green wax,
-with an impression of the head of Cæsar.
-
-It is in the chirography of such men as Professor Anthon that we look
-with certainty for indication of character. The life of a scholar is
-mostly undisturbed by those adventitious events which distort the
-natural disposition of the man of the world, preventing his real nature
-from manifesting itself in his MS. The lawyer, who, pressed for time, is
-often forced to embody a world of heterogeneous memoranda, on scraps of
-paper, with the stumps of all varieties of pen, will soon find the fair
-characters of his boyhood degenerate into hieroglyphics which would
-puzzle Doctor Wallis or Champollion; and from chirography so disturbed
-it is nearly impossible to decide any thing. In a similar manner, men
-who pass through many striking vicissitudes of life, acquire in each
-change of circumstance a temporary inflection of the hand-writing; the
-whole resulting, after many years, in an unformed or variable MS.,
-scarcely to be recognised by themselves from one day to the other. In
-the case of literary men generally, we may expect some decisive token of
-the mental influence upon the MS., and in the instance of the classical
-devotee we may look with _especial_ certainty for such token. We see,
-accordingly, in Professor Anthon’s autography, each and all of the known
-idiosyncrasies of his taste and intellect. We recognise at once the
-scrupulous precision and finish of his scholarship and of his style—the
-love of elegance which prompts him to surround himself, in his private
-study, with gems of sculptural art, and beautifully bound volumes, all
-arranged with elaborate attention to form, and in the very pedantry of
-neatness. We perceive, too, the disdain of superfluous embellishment
-which distinguishes his compilations, and which gives to their exterior
-appearance so marked an air of Quakerism. We must not forget to observe
-that the “want of force” is a want as perceptible in the whole character
-of the man, as in that of the MS.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Washington Irving]
-
-The MS. of Mr. Irving has little about it indicative of his genius.
-Certainly, no one could suspect from it any nice _finish_ in the
-writer’s compositions; nor is this nice finish to be found. The letters
-now before us vary remarkably in appearance; and those of late date are
-not nearly so well written as the more antique. Mr. Irving has travelled
-much, has seen many vicissitudes, and has been so thoroughly satiated
-with fame as to grow slovenly in the performance of his literary tasks.
-This slovenliness has affected his hand-writing. But even from his
-earlier MSS. there is little to be gleaned, except the ideas of
-simplicity and precision. It must be admitted, however, that this fact,
-in itself, is characteristic of the literary manner, which, however
-excellent, has no prominent or very remarkable features.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Park Benjamin]
-
-For the last six or seven years, few men have occupied a more desirable
-position among us than Mr. Benjamin. As the editor of the American
-Monthly Magazine, of the New Yorker, and more lately of the Signal, and
-New World, he has exerted an influence scarcely second to that of any
-editor in the country. This influence Mr. B. owes to no single cause,
-but to his combined ability, activity, causticity, fearlessness, and
-independence. We use the latter term, however, with some mental
-reservation. The editor of the World is independent so far as the word
-implies unshaken resolution to follow the bent of one’s own will, let
-the consequences be what they may. He is no respecter of persons, and
-his vituperation as often assails the powerful as the powerless—indeed
-the latter fall rarely under his censure. But we cannot call his
-independence, at all times, that of principle. We can never be sure that
-he will defend a cause merely because it is the cause of truth—or even
-because he regards it as such. He is too frequently biassed by personal
-feelings—feelings now of friendship, and again of vindictiveness. He is
-a warm friend, and a bitter, but not implacable enemy. His judgment in
-literary matters should not be questioned, but there is some difficulty
-in getting at his real opinion. As a prose writer, his style is lucid,
-terse, and pungent. He is often witty, often cuttingly sarcastic, but
-seldom humorous. He frequently injures the force of his fiercest attacks
-by an indulgence in merely vituperative epithets. As a poet, he is
-entitled to far higher consideration than that in which he is ordinarily
-held. He is skilful and passionate, as well as imaginative. His sonnets
-have not been surpassed. In short, it is as a poet that his better
-genius is evinced—it is in poetry that his noble spirit breaks forth,
-showing what the man is, and what, but for unhappy circumstances, he
-would invariably appear.
-
-Mr. Benjamin’s MS. is not very dissimilar to Mr. Irving’s, and, like
-his, it has no doubt been greatly modified by the excitements of life,
-and by the necessity of writing much and hastily; so that we can
-predicate but little respecting it. It speaks of his exquisite
-sensibility and passion. These betray themselves in the nervous
-variation of the MS. as the subject is diversified. When the theme is an
-ordinary one, the writing is legible and has force; but when it verges
-upon any thing which may be supposed to excite, we see the characters
-falter as they proceed. In the MSS. of some of his best poems this
-peculiarity is very remarkable. The signature conveys the idea of his
-_usual_ chirography.
-
-[Illustration: signature of John P. Kennedy]
-
-Mr. Kennedy is well known as the author of “Swallow Barn,” “Horse-Shoe
-Robinson,” and “Rob of the Bowl,” three works whose features are
-strongly and decidedly marked. These features are boldness and force of
-thought, (disdaining ordinary embellishment, and depending for its
-effect upon masses rather than upon details) with a predominant _sense
-of the picturesque_ pervading and giving color to the whole. His
-“Swallow Barn,” in especial (and it is by the first effort of an author
-that we form the truest idea of his mental bias), is but a rich
-succession of picturesque still-life pieces. Mr. Kennedy is well to do
-in the world, and has always taken the world easily. We may therefore
-expect to find in his chirography, if ever in any, a full indication of
-the chief feature of his literary style—especially as this chief
-feature is so remarkably prominent. A glance at his signature will
-convince any one that the indication is to be found. A painter called
-upon to designate the main peculiarity of this MS. would speak at once
-of the _picturesque_. This character is given it by the absence of
-hair-strokes, and by the abrupt termination of every letter without
-tapering; also in great measure by varying the size and slope of the
-letters. Great uniformity is preserved in the whole air of the MS., with
-great variety in the constituent parts. Every character has the
-clearness, boldness and precision of a wood-cut. The long letters do not
-rise or fall in an undue degree above the others. Upon the whole, this
-is a hand which pleases us much, although its _bizarrerie_ is rather too
-piquant for the general taste. Should its writer devote himself more
-exclusively to light letters, we predict his future eminence. The paper
-on which our epistles are written is very fine, clear, and _white_, with
-gilt edges. The seal is neat, and just sufficient wax has been used for
-the impression. All this betokens a love of the elegant without
-effeminacy.
-
-[Illustration: signature of G: Mellen]
-
-The hand-writing of Grenville Mellen is somewhat peculiar, and partakes
-largely of the character of his signature as seen above. The whole is
-highly indicative of the poet’s flighty, hyper-fanciful character, with
-his unsettled and often erroneous ideas of the beautiful. His straining
-after effect is well paralleled in the formation of the preposterous G
-in the signature, with the two dots by its side. Mr. Mellen has genius
-unquestionably, but there is something in his temperament which obscures
-it.[3]
-
------
-
-[3] Since this article was prepared for the press, we have been grieved
-to hear of the death of Mr. Mellen.
-
-[Illustration: signature of J K Paulding]
-
-No correct notion of Mr. Paulding’s literary peculiarities can be
-obtained from an inspection of his MS., which, no doubt, has been
-strongly modified by adventitious circumstances. His small _a_s, _t_s,
-and _c_s are all alike, and the style of the characters generally is
-French, although the entire MS. has much the appearance of Greek text.
-The paper which he ordinarily uses is of a very fine glossy texture, and
-of a blue tint, with gilt edges. His signature is a good specimen of his
-general hand.
-
-[Illustration: signature of L. H. Sigourney]
-
-Mrs. Sigourney seems to take much pains with her MSS. Apparently she
-employs _black lines_. Every _t_ is crossed, and every _i_ dotted, with
-precision, while the punctuation is faultless. Yet the whole has nothing
-of effeminacy or formality. The individual characters are large, well
-and freely formed, and preserve a perfect uniformity throughout.
-Something in her hand-writing puts us in mind of Mr. Paulding’s. In both
-MSS. perfect regularity exists, and in both the style is _formed_ or
-_decided_. Both are beautiful; yet Mrs. Sigourney’s is the most legible,
-and Mr. Paulding’s nearly the most illegible in the world. From that of
-Mrs. S. we might easily form a true estimate of her compositions.
-Freedom, dignity, precision, and grace, without originality, may be
-properly attributed to her. She has fine taste, without genius. Her
-paper is usually good—the seal small, of green and gold wax, and
-without impression.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Robert Walsh]
-
-Mr. Walsh’s MS. is peculiar, from its large, sprawling and irregular
-appearance—rather rotund than angular. It always seems to have been
-hurriedly written. The _t_s are crossed with a sweeping scratch of the
-pen, which gives to his epistles a somewhat droll appearance. A
-_dictatorial_ air pervades the whole. His paper is of ordinary quality.
-His seal is commonly of brown wax mingled with gold, and bears a Latin
-motto, of which only the words _trans_ and _mortuus_ are legible.
-
-Mr. Walsh cannot be denied talent; but his reputation, which has been
-bolstered into being by a _clique_, is not a thing to live. A blustering
-self-conceit betrays itself in his chirography, which upon the whole, is
-not very dissimilar to that of Mr. E. Everett, of whom we shall speak
-hereafter.
-
-[Illustration: signature of J H Ingraham]
-
-Mr. Ingraham, or Ingrahame, (for he writes his name sometimes with, and
-sometimes without the _e_,) is one of our most _popular_ novelists, if
-not one of our best. He appeals always to the taste of the
-ultra-romanticists, (as a matter, we believe, rather of pecuniary policy
-than of choice) and thus is obnoxious to the charge of a certain
-cut-and-thrust, blue-fire, melodramaticism. Still, he is capable of
-better things. His chirography is very unequal; at times, sufficiently
-clear and flowing, at others, shockingly scratchy and uncouth. From it
-nothing whatever can be predicated, except an uneasy vacillation of
-temper and of purpose.
-
-[Illustration: signature of W C Bryant]
-
-Mr. Bryant’s MS. puts us entirely at fault. It is one of the most
-common-place clerk’s hands which we ever encountered, and has no
-character about it beyond that of the day-book and ledger. He writes, in
-short, what mercantile men and professional pen-men call a fair hand,
-but what artists would term an abominable one. Among its regular up and
-down strokes, waving lines and hair-lines, systematic taperings and
-flourishes, we look in vain for the force, polish, and decision of the
-poet. The _picturesque_, to be sure, is equally deficient in his
-chirography and in his poetical productions.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Fitz-Greene Halleck]
-
-Mr. Halleck’s hand is strikingly indicative of his genius. We see in it
-some force, more grace, and little of the picturesque. There is a great
-deal of freedom about it, and his MSS. seem to be written _currente
-calamo_, but without hurry. His flourishes, which are not many, look as
-if thoughtfully planned, and deliberately, yet firmly executed. His
-paper is very good, and of a blueish tint—his seal of red wax.
-
-[Illustration: signature of N. P. Willis.]
-
-Mr. Willis, when writing carefully, would write a hand nearly resembling
-that of Mr. Halleck; although no similarity is perceptible in the
-signatures. His usual chirography is dashing, free, and not ungraceful,
-but is sadly deficient in force and picturesqueness.
-
-It has been the fate of this gentleman to be alternately condemned _ad
-infinitum_, and lauded _ad nauseam_—a fact which speaks much in his
-praise. We know of no American writer who has evinced greater
-versatility of talent; that is to say, of high talent, often amounting
-to genius; and we know of none who has more narrowly missed placing
-himself at the head of our letters.
-
-The paper of Mr. Willis’ epistles is always fine, and glossy. At
-present, he employs a somewhat large seal, with a dove, or
-carrier-pigeon, at the top, the word “Glenmary” at bottom, and the
-initials “N. P. W.” in the middle.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Rufus Dawes]
-
-Mr. Dawes has been long known as a poet; but his claims are scarcely yet
-settled—his friends giving him rank with Bryant and Halleck, while his
-opponents treat his pretensions with contempt. The truth is, that the
-author of “Geraldine” and “Athenia of Damascus” has written occasional
-verses very well—so well, that some of his minor pieces may be
-considered equal to any of the minor pieces of either of the two
-gentlemen above-mentioned. His longer poems, however, will not bear
-examination. “Athenia of Damascus” is pompous nonsense, and “Geraldine”
-a most ridiculous imitation of Don Juan, in which the beauties of the
-original have been as sedulously avoided, as the blemishes have been
-blunderingly culled. In style, he is, perhaps, the most inflated,
-involved, and falsely-figurative, of any of our more noted poets. This
-defect, of course, is only fully appreciable in what are termed his
-“sustained efforts,” and thus his shorter pieces are often exceedingly
-good. His apparent erudition is mere verbiage, and, were it real, would
-be lamentably out of place where we see it. He seems to have been
-infected with a blind admiration of Coleridge—especially of his
-mysticism and cant.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Henry W. Longfellow]
-
-H. W. Longfellow, (Professor of Moral Philosophy at Harvard,) is
-entitled to the first place among the poets of America—certainly to the
-first place among those who have put themselves prominently forth as
-poets. His good qualities are all of the highest order, while his sins
-are chiefly those of affectation and imitation—an imitation sometimes
-verging upon downright theft.
-
-His MS. is remarkably good, and is fairly exemplified in the signature.
-We see here plain indications of the force, vigor, and glowing richness
-of his literary style; the deliberate and steady _finish_ of his
-compositions. The man who writes thus may not accomplish much, but what
-he does, will always be thoroughly done. The main beauty, or at least
-one great beauty of his poetry, is that of _proportion_; another, is a
-freedom from extraneous embellishment. He oftener runs into affectation
-through his endeavors at simplicity, than through any other cause. Now
-this rigid simplicity and proportion are easily perceptible in the MS.,
-which, altogether, is a very excellent one.
-
-[Illustration: signature of J. Pierpont]
-
-The Rev. J. Pierpont, who, of late, has attracted so much of the public
-attention, is one of the most accomplished poets in America. His “Airs
-of Palestine” is distinguished by the sweetness and vigor of its
-versification, and by the grace of its sentiments. Some of his shorter
-pieces are exceedingly terse and forcible, and none of our readers can
-have forgotten his Lines on Napoleon. His rhythm is at least equal in
-strength and modulation to that of any poet in America. Here he
-resembles Milman and Croly.
-
-His chirography, nevertheless, indicates nothing beyond the
-common-place. It is an ordinary clerk’s hand—one which is met with more
-frequently than any other. It is decidedly _formed_; and we have no
-doubt that he _never_ writes otherwise than thus. The MS. of his
-school-days has probably been persisted in to the last. If so, the fact
-is in full consonance with the steady precision of his style. The
-flourish at the end of the signature is but a part of the writer’s
-general enthusiasm.
-
-[Illustration: signature of W. Gilmore Simms]
-
-Mr. Simms is the author of “Martin Faber,” “Atalantis,” “Guy Rivers,”
-“The Partisan,” “Mellichampe,” “The Yemassee,” “The Damsel of Darien,”
-“The Black Riders of the Congaree,” and one or two other productions,
-among which we must not forget to mention several fine poems. As a poet,
-indeed, we like him far better than as a novelist. His qualities in this
-latter respect _resemble_ those of Mr. Kennedy, although he equals him
-in no particular, except in his appreciation of the graceful. In his
-sense of beauty he is Mr. K.’s superior, but falls behind him in force,
-and the other attributes of the author of Swallow Barn. These
-differences and resemblances are well shown in the MSS. That of Mr. S.
-has more slope, and more uniformity in detail, with less in the
-mass—while it has also less of the picturesque, although still much.
-The middle name is Gilm_o_re; in the cut it looks like Gilm_e_re.
-
-[Illustration: signature of O. A. Brownson]
-
-The Rev. Orestes A. Brownson is chiefly known to the literary world as
-the editor of the “Boston Quarterly Review,” a work to which he
-contributes, each quarter, at least two-thirds of the matter. He has
-published little in book form—his principal works being “Charles
-Elwood,” and “New Views.” Of these, the former production is, in many
-respects, one of the highest merit. In logical accuracy, in
-comprehensiveness of thought, and in the evident frankness and desire
-for truth in which it is composed, we know of few theological treatises
-which can be compared with it. Its conclusion, however, bears about it a
-species of hesitation and inconsequence, which betray the fact that the
-writer has not altogether succeeded in convincing himself of those
-important truths which he is so anxious to impress upon his readers. We
-must bear in mind, however, that this is the fault of Mr. Brownson’s
-subject, and not of Mr. Brownson. However well a man may reason on the
-great topics of God and immortality, he will be forced to admit tacitly
-in the end, that God and immortality are things to be felt, rather than
-demonstrated.
-
-On subjects less indefinite, Mr. B. reasons with the calm and convincing
-force of a Combe. He is, in every respect, an extraordinary man, and
-with the more extensive resources which would have been afforded him by
-early education, could not have failed to bring about important results.
-
-His MS. indicates, in the most striking manner, the unpretending
-simplicity, directness, and especially, the _indefatigability_ of his
-mental character. His signature is more _petite_ than his general
-chirography.
-
-[Illustration: signature of B. Tucker]
-
-Judge Beverly Tucker, of the College of William and Mary, Virginia, is
-the author of one of the best novels ever published in America—“George
-Balcombe”—although, for some reason, the book was never a popular
-favorite. It was, perhaps, somewhat too didactic for the general taste.
-
-He has written a great deal, also, for the “Southern Literary Messenger”
-at different times; and, at one period, acted in part, if not
-altogether, as editor of that Magazine, which is indebted to him for
-some very racy articles, in the way of criticism especially. He is apt,
-however, to be led away by personal feelings, and is more given to
-vituperation for the mere sake of _point_ or pungency, than is
-altogether consonant with his character as judge. Some five years ago
-there appeared in the “Messenger,” under the editorial head, an article
-on the subject of the “Pickwick Papers” and some other productions of
-Mr. Dickens. This article, which abounded in well-written but
-extravagant denunciation of everything composed by the author of “The
-Curiosity Shop,” and which prophesied his immediate downfall, we have
-reason to believe was from the pen of Judge Beverly Tucker. We take this
-opportunity of mentioning the subject, because the odium of the paper in
-question fell altogether upon our shoulders, and it is a burthen we are
-not disposed and never intended to bear. The review appeared in March,
-we think, and we had retired from the Messenger in the January
-preceding. About eighteen months previously, and when Mr. Dickens was
-scarcely known to the public at all, except as the author of some brief
-tales and essays, the writer of this article took occasion to predict,
-in the Messenger, and in the most emphatic manner, that high and just
-distinction which the author in question has attained. Judge Tucker’s
-MS. is diminutive, but neat and legible, and has much force and
-precision, with little of the picturesque. The care which he bestows
-upon his literary compositions makes itself manifest also in his
-chirography. The signature is more florid than general hand.
-
-[Illustration: signature of John Sanderson]
-
-Mr. Sanderson, Professor of the Greek and Latin languages in the High
-School of Philadelphia, is well known as the author of a series of
-letters, entitled “The American in Paris.” These are distinguished by
-ease and vivacity of style, with occasional profundity of observation,
-and, above all, by the frequency of their illustrative anecdotes, and
-figures. In all these particulars, Professor Sanderson is the precise
-counterpart of Judge Beverly Tucker, author of “George Balcombe.” The
-MSS. of the two gentlemen are nearly identical. Both are neat, clear and
-legible. Mr. Sanderson’s is somewhat the more crowded.
-
-[Illustration: signature of H. F. Gould.]
-
-About Miss Gould’s MS. there is great neatness, picturesqueness, and
-finish, without over-effeminacy. The literary style of one who writes
-thus will always be remarkable for sententiousness and epigrammatism;
-and these are the leading features of Miss Gould’s poetry.
-
-[Illustration: signature of C. S. Henry]
-
-Prof. Henry, of Bristol College, is chiefly known by his contributions
-to our Quarterlies, and as one of the originators of the New-York
-Review, in conjunction with Dr. Hawks and Professor Anthon. His
-chirography is now neat and picturesque, (much resembling that of Judge
-Tucker,) and now excessively scratchy, _clerky_, and slovenly—so that
-it is nearly impossible to say anything respecting it, except that it
-indicates a vacillating disposition, with unsettled ideas of the
-beautiful. None of his epistles, in regard to their chirography, end as
-well as they begin. This trait denotes _fatigability_. His signature,
-which is bold and decided, conveys not the faintest idea of the general
-MS.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Emma C. Embury]
-
-Mrs. Embury is chiefly known by her contributions to the Periodicals of
-the country. She is one of the most nervous of our female writers, and
-is not destitute of originality—that rarest of all qualities in a
-woman, and especially in an American woman.
-
-Her MS. evinces a strong disposition to fly off at a tangent from the
-old formulæ of the Boarding Academies. Both in it, and in her literary
-style, it would be well that she should no longer hesitate to discard
-the absurdities of mere fashion.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Wm. Landor.]
-
-Mr. Landor acquired much reputation as the author of “Stanley,” a work
-which was warmly commended by the press throughout the country. He has
-also written many excellent papers for the Magazines. His chirography is
-usually _petite_, without hair-lines, close, and somewhat stiff. Many
-words are carefully erased. His epistles have always a rigorous
-formality about them. The whole is strongly indicative of his literary
-qualities. He is an elaborately careful, stiff, and pedantic writer,
-with much affectation and great talent. Should he devote himself
-ultimately to letters, he cannot fail of high success.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Eliza Leslie]
-
-Miss Leslie is celebrated for the homely naturalness of her stories and
-for the broad satire of her comic style. She has written much for the
-Magazines. Her chirography is distinguished for neatness and finish,
-without over-effeminacy. It is rotund, and somewhat diminutive; the
-letters being separate, and the words always finished with an inward
-twirl. She is never particular about the quality of her paper or the
-other externals of epistolary correspondence. From her MSS. in general,
-we might suppose her solicitous rather about the effect of her
-compositions as a whole, than about the polishing of the constituent
-parts. There is much of the picturesque both in her chirography and in
-her literary style.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Joseph C. Neal]
-
-Mr. Neal has acquired a very extensive reputation through his “Charcoal
-Sketches,” a series of papers originally written for the “Saturday
-News,” of this city, and afterwards published in book form, with
-illustrations by Johnston. The whole design of the “Charcoal Sketches”
-may be stated as the depicting of the wharf and street _loafer_; but
-this design has been executed altogether in caricature. The extreme of
-burlesque runs throughout the work, which is, also, chargeable with a
-tedious repetition of slang and incident. The loafer always declaims the
-same nonsense, in the same style, gets drunk in the same way, and is
-taken to the watch-house after the same fashion. Reading one chapter of
-the book, we read all. Any single description would have been an
-original idea well executed, but the dose is repeated _ad nauseam_, and
-betrays a woful poverty of invention. The manner in which Mr. Neal’s
-book was belauded by his personal friends of the Philadelphia press,
-speaks little for their independence, or less for their taste. To dub
-the author of these “Charcoal Sketches” (which are really very excellent
-police-reports) with the title of “the American Boz,” is either
-outrageous nonsense, or malevolent irony.
-
-In other respects, Mr. N. has evinced talents which cannot be
-questioned. He has conducted the “Pennsylvanian” with credit, and, as a
-political writer, he stands deservedly high. His MS. is simple and
-legible, with much space between the words. It has force, but little
-grace. Altogether, his chirography is good; but as he belongs to the
-editorial corps, it would not be just to suppose that any deductions, in
-respect to character, could be gleaned from it. His signature conveys
-the general MS. with accuracy.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Seba Smith]
-
-Mr. Seba Smith has become somewhat widely celebrated as the author, in
-part, of the “Letters of Major Jack Downing.” These were very clever
-productions; coarse, but full of fun, wit, sarcasm and sense. Their
-manner rendered them exceedingly popular, until their success tempted
-into the field a host of brainless imitators. Mr. S. is also the author
-of several poems; among others, of “Powhatan, a Metrical Romance,” which
-we do not very particularly admire. His MS. is legible, and has much
-simplicity about it. At times it vacillates, and appears unformed. Upon
-the whole, it is much such a MS. as David Crockett wrote, and precisely
-such a one as we might imagine would be written by a _veritable_ Jack
-Downing; by Jack Downing himself, had this creature of Mr. Smith’s fancy
-been endowed with a real entity. The fact is, that “The Major” is not
-_all_ a creation; at least one half of his character actually exists in
-the bosom of his originator. It was the Jack Downing half that composed
-“Powhatan.”
-
-[Illustration: signature of Jos. Hopkinson]
-
-Judge Hopkinson’s hand is forcible, neat, legible, and devoid of
-superfluity. The characters have much slope, and whole words are
-frequently run together. The lines are at equal distances, and a broad
-margin is at the left of the page, as is the case with the MSS. of Judge
-Marshall, and other jurists. The whole is too uniform to be picturesque.
-The writing is always as good at the conclusion, as at the commencement
-of the epistles—a rare quality in MSS., evincing _indefatigability_ in
-the writer.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Alexander Slidell]
-
-Lieutenant Slidell, some years ago, took the additional name of
-Mackenzie. His reputation, at one period, was extravagantly high—a
-circumstance owing, in some measure, to the _esprit de corps_ of the
-navy, of which he is a member, and to his private influence, through his
-family, with the Review-cliques. Yet his fame was not altogether
-undeserved; although it cannot be denied that his first book, “A Year in
-Spain,” was in some danger of being overlooked by his countrymen, until
-a benignant star directed the attention of the London bookseller,
-Murray, to its merits. Cockney octavos prevailed; and the clever young
-writer who was cut dead in his Yankee habiliments, met with bows
-innumerable in the gala dress of an English _imprimatur_. The work now
-ran through several editions, and prepared the public for the kind
-reception of “The American in England,” which exalted his reputation to
-its highest pinnacle. Both these books abound in racy description; but
-are chiefly remarkable for their gross deficiencies in grammatical
-construction.
-
-Lieut. Slidell’s MS. is peculiarly neat and even—quite legible, but
-altogether too petite and effeminate. Few tokens of his literary
-character are to be found, beyond the _petiteness_, which is exactly
-analogous with the minute detail of his descriptions.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Francis Lieber]
-
-Francis Lieber is Professor of History and Political Economy in the
-College of South Carolina, and has published many works distinguished by
-acumen and erudition. Among these we may notice a “Journal of a
-Residence in Greece,” written at the instigation of the historian
-Niebuhr; “The Stranger in America,” a piquant book abounding in various
-information relative to the United States; a treatise on “Education;”
-“Reminiscences of an intercourse with Niebuhr;” and an “Essay on
-International Copy-Right”—this last a valuable work.
-
-Professor Lieber’s personal character is that of the frankest and most
-unpretending _bonhommie_, while his erudition is rather massive than
-minute. We may therefore expect his MS. to differ widely from that of
-his brother scholar, Professor Anthon; and so in truth it does. His
-chirography is careless, heavy, black, and forcible, without the
-slightest attempt at ornament—very similar, upon the whole to the
-well-known chirography of Chief Justice Marshall. His letters have the
-peculiarity of a wide margin left at the top of each page.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Sarah J. Hale]
-
-Mrs. Hale is well known for her masculine style of thought. This is
-clearly expressed in her chirography, which is far larger, heavier, and
-altogether bolder than that of her sex generally. It resembles in a
-great degree that of Professor Lieber, and is not easily deciphered.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Edward Everett]
-
-Mr. Everett’s MS. is a noble one. It has about it an air of deliberate
-precision emblematic of the statesman, and a mingled grace and solidity
-betokening the scholar. Nothing can be more legible, and nothing need be
-more uniform. The man who writes thus will never grossly err in
-judgment, or otherwise; but we may also venture to say that he will
-never attain the loftiest pinnacle of renown. The letters before us have
-a seal of red wax, with an oval device bearing the initials E. E. and
-surrounded with a scroll, inscribed with some Latin words which are
-illegible.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Robert M. Bird]
-
-Dr. Bird is well known as the author of “The Gladiator,” “Calavar,” “The
-Infidel,” “Nick of the Woods,” and some other works—Calavar being, we
-think, by far the best of them, and beyond doubt one of the best of
-American novels.
-
-His chirography resembles that of Mr. Benjamin very closely; the chief
-difference being in a curl of the final letters in Dr. B.’s. The
-characters, too, have the air of not being able to keep pace with the
-thought, and an uneasy want of finish seems to have been the
-consequence. A vivid imagination might easily be deduced from such a MS.
-
-[Illustration: signature of John Neal]
-
-Mr. John Neal’s MS. is exceedingly illegible and careless. Many of his
-epistles are perfect enigmas, and we doubt whether he could read them
-himself in half an hour after they are penned. Sometimes four or five
-words are run together. Any one, from Mr. Neal’s penmanship, might
-suppose his mind to be what it really is—excessively flighty and
-irregular, but active and energetic.
-
-[Illustration: signature of C M Sedgwick]
-
-The penmanship of Miss Sedgwick is excellent. The characters are well
-sized, distinct, elegantly but not ostentatiously formed, and with
-perfect freedom of manner, are still sufficiently feminine. The
-hair-strokes differ little from the downward ones, and the MSS. have
-thus a uniformity they might not otherwise have. The paper she generally
-uses is good, blue, and machine-ruled. Miss Sedgwick’s hand-writing
-points unequivocally to the traits of her literary style—which are
-strong common sense, and a masculine disdain of mere ornament. The
-signature conveys the general chirography.
-
-[Illustration: signature of J. Fenimore Cooper]
-
-Mr. Cooper’s MS. is very bad—_unformed_, with little of distinctive
-character about it, and varying greatly in different epistles. In most
-of those before us a steel pen has been employed, the lines are crooked,
-and the whole chirography has a constrained and school-boyish air. The
-paper is fine, and of a bluish tint. A wafer is always used. Without
-appearing ill-natured, we could scarcely draw any inferences from such a
-MS. Mr. Cooper has seen many vicissitudes, and it is probable that he
-has not always written thus. Whatever are his faults, his genius cannot
-be doubted.
-
-[Illustration: signature of J. L. Hawks]
-
-Dr. Hawks is one of the originators of the “New York Review,” to which
-journal he has furnished many articles. He is also known as the author
-of the “History of the Episcopal Church of Virginia,” and one or two
-minor works. He now edits the “Church Record.” His style, both as a
-writer and as a preacher, is characterized rather by a perfect _fluency_
-than by any more lofty quality, and this trait is strikingly indicated
-in his chirography, of which the signature is a fair specimen.
-
-[Illustration: signature of Henry W^{m} Herbert]
-
-This gentleman is the author of “Cromwell,” “The Brothers,” “Ringwood
-the Rover,” and some other minor productions. He at one time edited the
-“American Monthly Magazine,” in connection with Mr. Hoffman. In his
-compositions for the Magazines, Mr. Herbert is in the habit of doing
-both them and himself gross injustice, by neglect and hurry. His longer
-works evince much ability, although he is rarely entitled to be called
-original. His MS. is exceedingly neat, clear, and forcible; the
-signature affording a just idea of it. It resembles that of Mr. Kennedy
-very nearly; but has more slope and uniformity, with, of course, less
-spirit, and less of the picturesque. He who writes as Mr. Herbert, will
-be found always to depend chiefly upon his merits of _style_ for a
-literary reputation, and will not be unapt to fall into a pompous
-grandiloquence. The author of “Cromwell” is sometimes wofully turgid.
-
-[Illustration: signature of C. H. Waterman]
-
-Mrs. Esling, formerly Miss Waterman, has attracted much attention, of
-late years, by the tenderness and melody of her short poems. She
-deserves _nearly_ all the commendation which she has received. Her MS.
-would generally be considered beautiful; but formed, like that of most
-of her sex, upon a regular school-model, it is, of course, not in the
-slightest degree indicative of character.
-
-[Illustration: signature of E. F. Ellet]
-
-Mrs. E. F. Ellet has published one or two books, exclusively of a volume
-of poems, but is chiefly known to the literary world by her numerous
-contributions to the Magazines. As a translator from the Italian, she
-has acquired an enviable reputation. Her hand, of which the signature
-above scarcely conveys a full idea, is clear, neat, forcible and
-legible; just such a hand as one would desire for copying MSS. of
-importance. We have observed that the writers of such epistles as those
-before us, are often known as translators, but seldom evince high
-originality or very eminent talent of any kind.
-
-[Illustration: signature of M M Noah]
-
-Judge Noah has written several plays which took very well in their time,
-and also several essays and other works, giving evidence of no ordinary
-learning and penetration on certain topics—chiefly connected with
-Israelitish history. He is better known, however, from the wit and
-universal _bonhommie_ of his editorial paragraphs. His peculiar traits
-of character may be traced in his writing, which has about it a free,
-rolling, and open air. His lines are never straight, and the letters
-taper too much to please the eye of an artist, and have now and then a
-twirl, like the tail of a pig, which gives to the whole MS. an
-indescribably quizzical appearance, and one altogether in consonance
-with the general notion respecting the quondam Major, and present Judge,
-than whom no man has more friends or fewer enemies.
-
-[Illustration: signature of J. G. Palfrey]
-
-Professor Palfrey is known to the public principally through his
-editorship of the “North American Review.” He has a reputation for
-scholarship; and many of the articles which are attributed to his pen
-evince that this reputation is well based, so far as the common notion
-of scholarship extends. For the rest, he seems to dwell altogether
-within the narrow world of his _own_ conceptions; imprisoning them by
-the very barrier which he has erected against the conceptions of others.
-
-His MS. shows a total deficiency in the sense of the beautiful. It has
-great pretension—great straining after effect; but is altogether one of
-the most miserable MSS. in the world—forceless, graceless, tawdry,
-vacillating and unpicturesque. The signature conveys but a faint idea of
-its extravagance. However much we may admire the mere _knowledge_ of the
-man who writes thus, it will not do to place any dependence upon his
-wisdom or upon his taste.
-
-This article will be concluded in our next number, and will embrace the
-autograph of every writer of note in America.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE KING’S BRIDE.
-
-
- BY J. H. DANA.
-
-
-There is no scenery in England more beautiful than that to be found in
-portions of the New Forest. Huge gray old oaks, gnarled, and twisted,
-and aspiring to heaven; deep glens, overshadowed by canopies of leaves,
-through which the light but faintly struggles; vast arcades, stretching
-far away in the distance, and buried in religious gloom; wild wood
-roads, that wind hither and thither among the giant trees in fanciful
-contortions; and open, sunny glades, intersected by sparkling
-streamlets, waving with verdant grass, and now and then disclosing a
-fairy cottage nestled in the edge of the forest, are to this day, the
-characteristics of this favorite hunting ground of the conqueror and his
-immediate successors. There is a solitude about this old labyrinthine
-chace, which is perfectly bewitching. You may travel for miles, in the
-more secluded parts of the forest, without meeting a human being, or
-seeing the smoke of a single cottage curling among the foliage; but on
-every hand you will behold trees growing in the wildest luxuriance, and
-tread on a sward as soft and thick as the richest velvet. You will, for
-a space, hear nothing but the sound of a nut rattling to the ground, or
-the song of some wood bird down in a brake; and then you will rouse the
-deer from their retreat, a rustle will be heard down in the
-under-growth, and you will catch a sight of the noble herd, perchance,
-as they go trotting away into the darker recesses of the forest.
-
-Such is the New Forest now, and such it was eight centuries ago, on a
-bright sunny morning, towards the end of summer. The hour was still
-early, for the dew yet sparkled in the grass, or pattered down from the
-foliage as the wind stirred among the forest branches. The scene was one
-of the loveliest the chace afforded—a bright glade embosomed in the
-most silent depths of the forest. The whole of this open space was
-carpeted with the thickest and greenest grass, varying in hue, at every
-breath of the balmy wind over the undulated surface. On one side, the
-glade was bounded by a gentle elevation, covered with stately oaks,
-whose giant branches, spreading out far and wide, buried their trunks in
-the obscurity of a constant twilight—and on the other three sides the
-ground either extended itself in a plain, or sloped so gently off, that
-the descent was nearly imperceptible. Thousands of wild flowers spangled
-the surface of the glade, some flaunting proudly on the air, and some
-modestly hiding under the long grass, yet all sending forth the most
-delicious perfume—while innumerable birds, of every variety of plumage,
-hopped from twig to twig, or skimmed across the glade, filling the air
-with untold harmonies,—and high in the heaven, a solitary lark,
-lingering there long after his fellows had departed, poured forth his
-lay with such sweet, such liquid harmony, that a stranger, unaccustomed
-to his song, and unable to distinguish his tiny form far up in the sunny
-ether, might well have fancied those unrivalled notes the breathings of
-an unseen cherubim.
-
-Such was the scene on which there now gazed two beings, both beautiful,
-but one surpassingly so. The elder of the two might have been one and
-thirty, and both his face and figure were moulded in the noblest style
-of manly beauty. His broad brow, chiselled features, and commanding
-port, bespoke him one born to rule, although the simple and somewhat
-mean garb he wore argued that he was not rich in this world’s goods. The
-attire of his companion was richer, but less gay, and she wore the veil
-of a novice. Her face, however, made up in loveliness for whatever
-absence of ornament there was in her dress, and indeed she might well
-have challenged the world to produce her rival. The fair delicate skin
-through which the blue veins could be seen meandering, the snowy brow
-that seemed made for the temple of the loveliest and purest thoughts,
-the golden hair that lay in wreathes upon the forehead, and the blue eye
-whose azure depths seemed to conceal mysteries as pure and rapturing as
-those of heaven, made up a countenance of overpowering beauty, even
-without that expression, so high and seraphic, which beamed with her
-every word, and threw over each lineament of her face a loveliness
-almost divine. Her figure was like that of a sylph, yet full and rounded
-in every limb; and beneath her dress peeped forth one of the most
-delicate feet that ever trod green sward. She was perhaps eighteen,
-though she might have been younger. She sat now on a low bank, at the
-very edge of the forest, while her companion reclined at her feet,
-holding one of her tiny hands in his broad palm, and gazing up into her
-eyes with a look of the deepest, yet most respectful passion. Nor were
-the maiden’s orbs averted from his gaze, for ever and anon she would
-twine her fingers playfully yet half sadly in his locks, and return his
-look with all a woman’s tenderness.
-
-“Yes, sweet one,” said the hunter, as if continuing a conversation, “I
-have sometimes, during our separation for the last six long months,
-almost desponded, especially when I heard how urgent my brother was that
-you should wed his favorite Warren, and when I reflected that your aunt,
-the good abbess Christiana, was so hostile to my suit. But I did you
-injustice, dear one, and thus,” and he kissed the hands of his companion
-again and again, “I sue for pardon. God only knows,” he added in a
-sadder tone, “whether I shall ever have my rights. They sneer at me now
-as a landless prince, and that purse-proud Surrey hath no better name
-for me than Deer’s-foot, because I am not always able to follow the hunt
-with a steed. But so long as thou art true to me, sweet Maud, all these
-will be as nothing; and the time may come when we shall yet be happy.”
-
-“Fear not, Beauclerk,” said the princess—for it was Matilda of Scotland
-who spoke, and he whom she addressed was the younger son of the
-conqueror, the penniless dependent of him whom men called the Red King,
-“fear not—all, as you say, will be well. I feel it, I know it. Do you
-believe in presentiments, dear Henry?” and pushing aside her lover’s
-thick locks, she held her hand on his forehead, and looked with her
-sunny orbs full into his eyes, as if she would playfully read his very
-soul.
-
-“Presentiments trouble me not much, despite what the books say thereof,”
-answered the frank hunter, “I trust rather to my sword and my good right
-arm, though forsooth, they availed me little when I was cooped up in St.
-Michael’s Mount by my two kingly and loving brothers. Aye! presentiments
-and prophesies, and such things, trouble me but little, or I would e’en
-have consolation now, in all my troubles, in calling to mind the words
-of my father—the saints assoilzie his memory!—since dying, he said,
-‘that I should be inheritor of all his honors, and should excel both
-Robert and William in riches and power.’ By St. George, the riches had
-best come soon, for I gave my last mark away this morning. No, kind
-Maud, I place little faith in presentiments. But you sigh. If it pains
-you that I credit them not, why, then I am the most devout believer in
-all England,” and again he pressed that fair hand to his lips, “why do
-you ask the question?”
-
-“Because,” said the princess, blushing at his eagerness, “I have had a
-presentiment that we should yet be happy, and that full soon. I know not
-how it is to happen; but of this I am assured, we shall live for
-brighter days. The abbess threatens me with the veil if I do not wed
-Surrey, and even now forces me, in her presence, to wear a tissue of
-horse-hair; but though I can as yet see no escape from the alternative,
-I am not the less certain that it will never be mine to choose. So now,
-despond no more, dear Beauclerk.”
-
-“Thanks, thanks, for your cheering homily,” said the young prince
-laughing, for her sanguine words had affected him with an unusual
-gaiety. “I can hunt now with some spirit. Little does Surrey think,
-while he is getting ready for the chase and perhaps sneering at me as a
-laggard for not being up to set out with the rest, that I have stolen
-out into the forest to meet her for whom he would give the whole of his
-broad lands.”
-
-What answer the princess might have made to this somewhat vain-glorious
-speech, we know not, but at this instant a party appeared on the scene
-in the guise of a knight, somewhat advanced in years, and as he
-approached hastily, he said:
-
-“You must forgive me, my dear lady, if I urge you to take horse. The
-abbess knows your journey will have consumed but a day, and that you
-should have reached Wilton last night, and I shall have a hard task to
-excuse your protracted stay without betraying you. The men-at-arms are
-drawn up but a little space off, and, though they are all my servitors,
-it is best that they should know nothing to reveal. The prince here will
-understand me.”
-
-“Assuredly, Sir John; and if he they call Beauclerk ever attains power,
-he will not forget those who befriended the landless prince. I will
-bring up Maud in an instant.”
-
-The knight bowed, and retreated into the wood. A few parting words were
-exchanged betwixt the lovers, a few tears were shed by Maud, which were
-kissed off by the prince, and then, with one long, last embrace, they
-tore themselves asunder, and in a few minutes the princess had rejoined
-her train. Prince Henry stood looking vacantly in the direction where
-she had disappeared, until the sound of her beast’s tramp had died in
-the distance, when, slowly mounting his steed, who had awaited its
-master in a neighboring copse, he entered one of the forest roads, and
-proceeded leisurely onwards. He had journeyed thus about half an hour
-when he heard a hunting horn sound close by him, and directly he beheld
-approaching the gallant array of his brother.
-
-“Ha! my good cousin Deer’s-foot, well met,” said the Earl of Surrey; “we
-have been looking for you. I told your friend here, who swore you were
-yet abed, that we should meet you afoot in the forest before the day was
-over—and thereon we have laid a wager. I trow we have neither won. It
-would be but fair to give you the bet, would it not?” said the gay Earl
-with a half concealed sneer, as he glanced from his own rich suit to the
-prince’s garb.
-
-“You may both want yet, fair sirs, all you can spare,” answered the
-prince; “but let us see who will be first in at the death. You were
-always apt at that, my lord,” and he turned to the royal treasurer.
-
-“Ay, and shall maintain my reputation, your highness,” said Breteuil,
-recollecting he addressed almost a beggar; “and, if I may judge by your
-steed, even against yourself.”
-
-“We shall see—we shall see,” said the prince. “I lay you a new steed,
-my lord, I distance you to-day.”
-
-“Done,” said the treasurer, laughing; “you have thrown away your horse.
-But here is the king, and lo!” and as he spoke the horn announced that a
-stag had been roused, “the game is afoot.”
-
-At the word the eager sportsmen gave spur to their steeds, and the
-cavalcade swept gaily off in the chase.
-
-Never had a more gallant array than that which now followed the royal
-stag, woke up the echoes of the forest. Knights and squires, priests and
-pages, warriors and ecclesiastics, princes of the blood royal and high
-officers of state, pressed forward in the chase, now scouring along the
-level plain, now dashing away through the arcades of the forest, and now
-plunging recklessly through brake and dell, as the hounds dogged the
-flight of the noble animal into his once secure retreat. Yet it was well
-worthy of note how compactly the hunters kept around the king, none
-venturing to outstrip him, and only a few of the oldest maintaining an
-even rein with him.
-
-Often during the chase the prince and Breteuil passed and repassed each
-other, and at every recognition Henry would gaily remind the treasurer
-of his wager. At length, however, the pursuit became more hot, the king
-gave rein to his steed and pressed on, and in passing some broken ground
-the royal party became separated, and those who were younger or better
-mounted than the rest swept on ahead. Among these was Prince Henry, who,
-though his steed was none of the best, kept up a not ignoble pace, until
-at length his arbalast caught against a tree, and he was nearly thrown
-from his horse. He checked his steed at once, and recovered his
-cross-bow, but the string was broken, rendering the weapon useless.
-
-“Ha! My gallant prince,” said the treasurer, as he swept by; “you can
-scarcely hit your game now, even if you keep on. I trow your steed is
-mine.”
-
-“A malison on the string,” said the prince bitterly; “there is nothing
-left for me except to sneak back to Winchester. But, no! I bethink me
-now there is a forester’s hut somewhere nigh here. Ah! yonder is its
-smoke curling over the tree-tops. I will hie me there, and get a new
-string. If the stag turns at the dell below, he will head up this way,
-and I may yet win my wager, for, the saints know, I can ill afford to
-lose my only steed.”
-
-With these words the prince again gave spurs to his horse, and was soon
-before the forester’s hut.
-
-“Ho! there, within,” he exclaimed; “a string for the prince. Marry, old
-mistress, have they never a keeper here better than you?”
-
-These words were addressed to an old woman who met him at the threshold
-of the hut as he dismounted, and who appeared to be the only human being
-inhabiting the cabin. And she was one who might well occasion the
-prince’s exclamation of surprise. Her skin was like that of a corpse;
-her eyes were sunk deep into her head; her hair was grizzled and gray;
-her long bony fingers might have been those of a skeleton, and when she
-spoke, her hollow sepulchral tones made even the courageous prince
-shudder. She seemed to pay no regard to her visitor’s inquiry for a
-string, but fastening her basilisk-like eyes upon him, she said or
-rather chaunted, in Norman French, a rude lay, of which the following
-verses are a translation:
-
- “Hasty news to thee I bring,
- Henry, thou art now a king;
- Mark the words, and heed them well,
- Which to thee in sooth I tell,
- And recall them in the hour
- Of thy royal state and power.”
-
-For the space of almost a minute after she had ceased, the prince gazed
-speechlessly on this novel being, awed alike by her strange demeanor,
-and her sepulchral eye. Nor were the words she chaunted without effect
-on her hearer. It was a superstitious age, and though few men of his day
-were less influenced by the supernatural than Henry, there was something
-in the sybil’s look which chilled his heart with a strange feeling, half
-fear, half awe. He had not recovered from his surprise, when a horseman
-rushed wildly up to the hut, and the prince had scarcely recognized one
-of his warmest friends, Beaumont, when that gentleman breathlessly
-exclaimed:
-
-“The king is slain!—Tyrell’s arrow glanced from a bow and struck your
-royal brother to his heart!”
-
-The words of Beaumont acted on the prince like the charm which
-dissipates a spell. He started, as if aroused from some strange dream,
-looked a moment in wild surprise at his companion, and gradually
-comprehending the strange and sudden transition in his fortunes, he
-sprung with a bound into his saddle, and plunging his rowels up to the
-heel in his horse’s side, exclaimed:
-
-“Then this is no place for me—follow to Winchester, Beaumont,—and now
-for a crown and Maud!”
-
-The next instant his horse’s hoofs were thundering across the stones, as
-he galloped furiously to the capital.
-
-History relates how he reached Winchester, with his steed bathed in
-foam, and, without slackening his pace, dashed up to the door of the
-royal treasury, a few minutes in advance of Breteuil. History also tells
-how the energy of the young prince broke through the meshes of the wily
-traitor, and secured for Beauclerk the crown; but it does not add that,
-after the unwilling treasurer had surrendered the keys of the regalia,
-his new master said, half laughingly and half ironically, to the haughty
-peer who had so often neglected him when only a prince—
-
-“Ah, my lord! did I not say I would win the race? I trow your steed is
-mine!”
-
-The discomfited Breteuil bit his lip and was silent, but that night his
-best charger was sent to the royal stables; while the rest of the
-hunters, who were now fast pouring in from the chase, with the populace
-which at the first news of the Red King’s death had begun to shout “King
-Henry,” gathered around their young monarch and filled the air with
-their acclamations.
-
-“Maud is right,” said the king to himself, as he beheld the enthusiasm
-displayed by his people, “to say nothing of the old sybil. Ah! what will
-my sweet one think when she hears this?”
-
-Three months later and all the chivalry of the realm was gathered in the
-church at Westminster, while the populace without thronged every avenue
-to that princely cathedral. Never indeed had a prouder assemblage met at
-any royal ceremonial. The church blazed with jewels. Nobles in their
-robes of state; bishops and archbishops with mitre and crozier;
-countesses whose beauty out-dazzled their diamonds; knights and squires
-and pages of every rank; burghers with their chains of gold; men-at-arms
-encased in steel; halberdiers and archers; yeomen with quarter staffs,
-and foresters with arbalasts; men of every situation of life, and bright
-ladies, whose loveliness was beyond compare, were gathered in the
-gorgeously ornamented church, amid the waving of banners, the sound of
-music, the rustling of costly robes, and the smoke of ascending incense,
-to gaze on the marriage of their monarch to his fair and blushing bride.
-And there she stood before the altar in all her virgin beauty, her fair
-blue eyes suffused with tears of joy; while her manly lover stood at her
-side, the proudest cavalier in all that bright array. And when the
-archbishop ascended the pulpit, and demanded if any one there objected
-to the union, the whole audience shouted aloud “that the matter was
-rightly settled;” then again pealed forth the anthem, and again the
-incense rose in clouds to the fretted roof. The music ceased, the words
-were said, the crown was placed on the brow of the princess, and the
-hunter of the forest, amid the acclamations of his people, pressed to
-his heart the King’s Bride.
-
-“Do you believe in presentiments now?” said the young queen, half
-laughing, to her royal husband when they reached the palace.
-
-“I am a convert to your faith whatever it may be, sweet one. Nay! you
-shall preach no sermon over my retraction, for thus I forbid the
-homily,” and the king drew the blushing Maud towards him and fondly
-kissed her.
-
-Many an iron monarch has, since then, sat on the English throne, and
-many a fair princess has been led by her lover to the altar, but never
-has a happier or more beautiful pair wore the regal crown in the realm
-of our ancestors.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- MERRY ENGLAND.
-
-
- BY J. R. LOWELL.
-
-
- Hurrah for merry England,
- Queen of the land and sea,
- The champion of truth and right,
- The bulwark of the free!
- Hurrah for merry England!
- Upon thy seagirt isle
- Thou sittest, clothed in righteousness,
- Secure of Heaven’s smile!
-
- When ruled the fairhaired Saxon,
- Yes, thou wert merry then;
- And, as they girt their bucklers on,
- Thy meanest serfs were men;
- And merry was the castle-hall
- With jest and song and tale,
- When bearded lips with mead were white
- And rang the loud Washael!
-
- And, when grim Denmark’s black-browed prows
- Tore through thine Emerald sea,
- And many a wild blue eye was turned
- In savage lust on thee,—
- When, in the greenest of thy vales,
- The gusts of summer air
- Blew out in long and shaggy locks
- The sea-king’s yellow hair,—
-
- Yet Alfred was in England,
- And merry yet again
- Thy white-armèd Saxon maidens were
- When, on the drunken Dane,
- The sudden thunders of thy war
- With arrowy hail did pour,
- And grim jaws dropt that quivered yet
- With savage hymns to Thor.
-
- Thy merry brow was fair and free,
- Thine eye gleamed like a lance,
- When thy good ash and yew did crush
- The gilded knights of France;
- When Paris shook within her walls
- And trembled as she saw
- Her snow-white lilies trampled down
- Beneath thy lion’s paw.
-
- Queen Bess’s days were merry days,
- Renowned in song and tale,
- Stout days that saw the last brown bead
- Of many a tun of ale;
- Queen Bess’s days were golden days
- And thou full proudly then
- Did’st suckle at thy healthy breasts
- The best of Englishmen.
-
- Thou hast been merry, England,
- But art thou merry now,
- With sweat of agonizing years
- Upon thy harlot brow,
- Grimed with the smoke of furnaces
- That forge with damned art
- The bars of darkness that shut in
- The poor man’s starving heart?
-
- Oh free and Christian England!
- The Hindu wife no more
- Shall burn herself in that broad realm
- Saint George’s cross waves o’er;
- Thou art the champion of the right,
- The friend of the opprest,
- And none but freemen now shall tread
- Thine Indies of the West.
-
- But thou canst ship thy poison,
- Wrung from lean Hindu slaves,
- To fill all China with dead souls
- That rot in living graves;
- And, that thy faith may not be seen
- Barren of goodly works,
- At Saint Jean D’Acre thou sent’st up
- To Heaven three thousand Turks.
-
- Fling high your greasy caps in air,
- Slaves of the forge and loom,
- If on the soil ye’re pent and starved
- Yet underneath there’s room;
- Fling high your caps, for, God be praised,
- Your epitaph shall be,
- “Who sets his foot on English soil
- Thenceforward he is free!”
-
- Shout too for merry England
- Ye factory-children thin,
- Upon whose little hearts the sun
- Hath never once looked in;
- For, when your hollow eyes shall close
- The poor-house hell to balk,
- (Thank God for liberty of speech)
- The parliament will talk.
-
- Thank God, lean sons of Erin,
- Who reverence the Pope
- In England consciences are free
- And ye are free—to hope;
- And if the Church of England priest
- Distrain—why, what of that?
- Their consciences are freer still
- Who wear the shovel-hat.
-
- The poet loves the silent past,
- And, in his fruitful rhyme,
- He sets the fairest flowers o’er
- The grave of buried time;
- But, from the graves of thy dark years,
- The night-shade’s ugly blue
- And spotted henbane shall grow up
- To poison Heaven’s dew.
-
- Woe to thee, fallen England,
- Who hast betrayed the word,
- And knelt before a Church when thou
- Shouldst kneel before the Lord!
- And, for that scarlet woman
- Who sits in places high,
- There cometh vengeance swift to quench
- The lewdness in her eye.
-
- Woe to thee, fallen England,
- Who, in thy night-mare sleep,
- O’er a volcano’s heart dost toss
- Whence sudden wrath shall leap
- Of that forgotten Titan
- Who now is trodden down
- That one weak Guelphic girl may wear
- Her plaything of a crown!
-
- That Titan’s heart is heaving now,
- And, with its huge uprise,
- On their sand basements lean and crack
- The old moss-covered lies;
- For freedom through long centuries
- Lives in eternal youth,
- And nothing can for ever part
- The human soul and truth.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- MARRIAGE.
-
-
- BY RUFUS DAWES.
-
-
- The inmost region of the mind, where dwells
- The essences of unborn thought,—those _ends_
- In which Effects, through Causes, dwell in power,
- Opened. ’Twas in vision, and I saw
- A palace of vast size—such as the eye,
- The natural eye of man, never beheld.
- Its massy walls of unhewn agate towered,
- Girt by a colonnade of crysolite;
- And there were ninety columns of huge bulk,
- Sustaining an entablature of gold,
- Diamond and ruby, glittering like the sun.
-
- The windows were each one a double plate
- Of spacious crystal, sliding from the touch
- Each side in golden frames. The portico
- Hung o’er a flight of alabaster steps,
- Extending to a lawn of delicate moss,
- Where browsed a flock of innocent, white lambs,
- That little children garlanded with flowers.
- Around the palace, orchard-trees were seen,
- Laden with fruit celestial, that hung down
- Like gems among the gold and silver leaves.
- Majestic vines, heavy with clustering grapes,
- In large festoons swung gorgeously between
- The opulent boughs that dropped with nectarines.
-
- ’Twas on a mountain’s summit, high and broad,
- Commanding a magnificent expanse,
- Where Art, in its essential excellence,
- Glowed in potential forms, where Nature, too,
- Un-ultimated in terrestrial things,
- Bloomed in angelic beauty. To the east
- A river, brinked luxuriantly with flowers,
- Lapsed silently. The deep-enameled dome,
- Whose measureless horizon knew no bounds,
- Was draped with clouds that broke celestial rays,
- Shining down shadowless. Turning, I saw
- A pair of Consorts, whose exalted home
- Was in this paradise. No forms of earth,
- No mortal lineaments—no reach of thought
- Poetic, when imagination wings
- Homeward to Heaven, could in the least compare
- With their angelic radiance;—they were
- Beauty itself in form,—two, and yet one,—
- One angel male and female—a true Man.
- He was her Understanding, she his Will;
- Thence, but one mind in heavenly marriage formed.
- Her love was cradled in his thought, that loved
- Her love and nursed it—as the tender drops
- Clasp the warm sunbeams, while the smile of Heaven
- Breaks in the rainbow. Such is genuine love.
- He in his form more radiantly shone
- Than that sublime achievement of fine art,
- That shows the power of luminous Truth to kill
- Sinuous Error;—she, than Guido’s gem
- More beautiful, more human, and more true.
-
- I saw, and lo! two dromedaries, each
- Bearing a golden basket, one of bread,
- The other of ripe fruit; they came and knelt.
- Each took and gave the other,—he the bread,
- She the ripe fruit. The dromedaries then
- Rose and departed. I beheld them kneeling
- Beside the river, and when they had drunk
- I saw them rise again and kiss each other,
- And then depart. I looked again, and lo!
- The consorts had withdrawn. They were the first
- Of the new birth of Marriage here on earth—
- A promise for the future, when a Time,
- And Times, and half a Time shall be fulfilled.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- INDIAN TRADITIONS.—No. II.
-
-
- FORT POINT.
-
-
- BY D. M. ELWOOD.
-
-
- “His spirit wraps the misty mountain,
- His memory sparkles o’er the fountain;
- The meanest rill—the mightiest river—
- Rolls mingling with his name forever.”
-
-
-The beautiful towns and villages of Connecticut, bordering on Long
-Island sound, are not surpassed in quiet loveliness by any others in New
-England. The loveliest, perhaps, of them all, is Norwalk, situated in
-the western part of the State, on a river of the same name, which flows
-sweetly along through the centre of the town. The title, we confess, is
-neither euphonious nor romantic: but we would not have it changed even
-for the sweetest word that ever passed human lips. It was given it by
-the Aborigines on the day when the territory was first purchased from
-them, and refers, if we mistake not, to its extent northward from the
-sound, called by the Indians the _North walk_. It is, indeed, one of the
-most lovely spots in Nature. Its quiet harbor is studded with verdant
-islands of every size and form, while across the green waters Long
-Island is seen, its dim outline scarcely distinguishable from the blue
-expanse beyond. The sound through its whole length is spotted with
-sheets of snowy canvass spread to catch the breeze, and anon the
-majestic steamer, like some huge leviathan, comes laboring on her way,
-proudly dashing aside the foaming waters from her prow, and leaving far
-behind a whitened, widening track. But when the Storm King is abroad,
-the crested waves pursue each other in continual chase, and the long,
-swelling billows break upon the shore, sending forth their rich music in
-the deep organ tones of nature.
-
-On the eastern side of the river, and directly opposite the present
-steamboat landing, is a large circular mound, some twenty feet high, and
-covering a surface of about an acre. It is perfectly level on the top,
-and bordered with large, tall cedars. It is now commonly known by the
-inhabitants in the vicinity as Old Fort Point.
-
-There is a tradition respecting the object and the erection of this
-mound, which I have with difficulty procured, and which maybe
-interesting to many who have visited the place, if not to strangers. For
-its truth, in all particulars, I will not vouch, but give it
-substantially as it has come down to us.
-
-About two centuries ago, there lived, on the level country about what is
-now Fort Point, but what was then called Naumkeag, one of those large
-tribes of native Indians, which, at the time when this land was first
-visited by Europeans, were scattered over the country from the shores of
-the Atlantic to the great valley of the west. The Indians had not then
-been degraded by their intercourse with the whites. The peculiarities of
-their nature had not been modified by the influence of civilization.
-Their tastes had not been pampered, nor their appetites excited by the
-fatal “fire water” introduced by their destroyers, nor their bodily
-strength wasted by diseases, loathsome and deadly, and till then unknown
-among them.
-
-From the feathered flocks of the forest and the finny tribes of the sea,
-they derived an ample subsistence; the shores, too, abounded in shell
-fish, and the forests with game, so that want and famine were never
-dreamt of by the happy and proud inhabitants of Naumkeag.
-
-Many years before the time of this sketch a large colony separated from
-the principal tribe and moved northward, settling themselves in the
-mountainous regions of Massachusetts. This colony embraced about a
-quarter of the whole tribe at Naumkeag—and being composed mostly of
-young men and their wives, they soon became nearly as powerful as the
-people whom they had left.
-
-Although many miles lay between them, these two tribes long kept up a
-friendly intercourse with each other, and forgot not that they had
-sprung from the same common stock. Miles were passed over almost as
-easily by those hardy foresters as they are by us at the present day,
-even with the help of iron roads and steam carriages. Great power of
-endurance was natural to their constitution, and especially was the
-fatigue of a long and rapid journey borne without inconvenience.
-
-There was one of the Wannamoisetts, as those who had removed from
-Naumeag now called themselves, who was more frequent by far in his
-visits to the sea shore than any other of his tribe. Every second moon
-found him treading the forest with his face toward the south. His
-journey usually occupied from two to three days. Occasionally he
-remained at Naumkeag for a week at a time, though for the most part, his
-visits were less protracted.
-
-Mononchee had of course some object or incentive for being thus frequent
-and regular in his attendance at the home of his ancestors. His very
-distant relationship to the tribe would hardly demand such an excess of
-filial affection. The truth was, there was a magnet of attraction in the
-person of a young maiden of Naumkeag, the sister-in-law of the chief,
-Wappaconet; and a powerful magnet it was too,—for there was not another
-in the whole village that possessed a brighter eye or a more perfect
-form. Her step almost realized the description of the poet,
-
- “————and fell,
- Trembling and soft, like moon-light on the earth.”
-
-Noalwa was not insensible to the attentions of her constant swain; on
-the contrary, his wooings were quite successful. His bravery and his
-manly strength—his tall and well formed person, and flashing eye, were
-well calculated to win the admiration, and, in due course, the
-affections of the gentle being upon whom his own desires centered; and
-the many soft things that he whispered in her ear, (for even an Indian
-_in love_ can utter the sweetest phrases with a honied mouth,) found a
-deep lodgment in her heart. And it was noticed that when the period of
-his visits was near at hand, her step was still lighter than usual, and
-her eye danced with a new, but soft fire, though at such times she spoke
-less, and seemed thoughtful but not sad.
-
-One evening—it was in the beginning of June, that season so favorable
-to young lovers—Mononchee surprised Noalwa sitting under a large tree
-close upon the shore. The hour and the place seemed as if under the
-influence of enchantment. The scene was like a fairy land. The broad
-sound was spread out before her, upon whose surface the clear moon shed
-her softened rays, which, as from a mirror, were reflected back on every
-side, giving to all things around an unnatural and unearthly brightness.
-There seemed a spell upon the air. It stirred not—but hung over the
-earth and the sea as if to heal every imperfection on the face of nature
-by its bland and genial influence.
-
-Noalwa had not been long there. An unwelcome intruder had invaded the
-hour which she had set apart for solitude and for communion in spirit
-and in fancy with her absent but adored lover. The intruder had hardly
-left her sight ere he was banished from her thoughts, and as it was
-about a week earlier than the customary time of Mononchee’s coming, she
-was thinking how long the days would be till she saw him, when she felt
-a warm kiss upon her cheek. She screamed not—spoke not—for a
-deep-seated feeling at her heart told her that those were no forbidden
-lips that could kindle such raptures in her soul.
-
-She gazed up at the face and form that was bending over her with all the
-fondness of a first love, and the young Indian placed himself by her
-side and gently drew her to his bosom. Then followed a conversation in
-low, deep, earnest tones, that both came from, and reached the heart.
-
-“The Wannamoisett is good—very good, to come so soon and gladden the
-heart of Noalwa,” murmured the girl as he pressed her to his breast.
-
-“Who would not come early and often if Noalwa loved him?” replied he.
-“Her beauty is brighter than the sun! Her eye is clearer and softer than
-the moon which leaves a broad trail of light upon the water. She sings
-more sweetly than the Tichanet,[4] and when she laughs the whole air is
-full of pleasant sounds.”
-
-“Did the Wannamoisett see any of my people as he came hither?” asked
-she.
-
-“None—for I came down by the shore. Ah! yes, I did see one—Annawon,
-the Namasket.”
-
-Noalwa hung her head.
-
-“Where did Mononchee meet him?” said she.
-
-“I saw him here!” vehemently replied the warrior, “here—standing on
-this very spot. I saw his hand grasp yours; nay, kneeling at your feet.
-I saw his eager look whilst you poured into his ear words which should
-have been kept for Mononchee!”
-
-“Be it so then,” cried the maiden, her lips quivering with insulted
-pride, and her heart torn with the agony which the unjust but perhaps
-reasonable suspicion of her lover caused, “be it so! for I told him to
-go—ere he told me a tale of love—to his tent and behold the wasted
-form and the sunken eye of Tituba, his wife, once loved and
-cherished—now neglected. I told him that I could never be his, and that
-any one who suspected Noalwa would so dishonor herself as to break her
-faith with another, could not be worthy of her love. Mononchee suspects
-her, and to him let her words be applied.”
-
-“But why suffer the Namasket to hold your hand? Why play with the
-serpent just ready to strike deep his fangs?”
-
-“Mononchee is a keen-eyed warrior,” said the maid in irony, “he saw the
-hawk, but not the wren that drove _him from her nest_. He saw Annawon at
-the feet and holding the hand of Noalwa, but did not observe with what
-scorn she looked upon him—did not mark how she spurned and drove him
-from her.”
-
-“I was deceived,” answered the repentant lover; “Noalwa has a pure
-heart, and never again will I distrust her. Seest thou that moon hanging
-yonder over the clear water? When it is again round and full, as it is
-to-night, Mononchee will come to take Noalwa for his wife. Will she be
-ready to go with him then to dwell where the hills are high and the deer
-are plenty?”
-
-“I am yours—yours only,” and her blushing face was hid in his bosom.
-
-After sitting for about an hour, the young man arose. “I must return,”
-said he, “to my people. Remember the full moon, Noalwa,” and he strode
-rapidly away.
-
-A few days after the above occurrence the Namaskets were invited by the
-Wannamoisetts to partake of a grand feast of deer and bears’ flesh at
-their village in the mountains. Accordingly a large party of the active
-men of the tribe started one morning, and the evening of the next day
-found them with their friends at Cohammock. The Wannamoisetts had made
-their preparations on a grand, and, for them, magnificent scale. Piles
-of plump deer and still richer bears’ meat lay around, while kettles of
-dried sweet corn and beans, of the last year’s growth, were already
-simmering over the small fires, that the hard kernels might become well
-softened and ready for use on the morrow.
-
-With the gray dawn of morning, all was bustle and activity in the
-village of Cohammock. The Indian matrons were early bestirring
-themselves that nothing might be left undone to mar the festivities of
-the occasion. Innumerable fires were kindled—the wooden spit and the
-seething pot, the two indispensable and almost the only culinary
-implements in use among them, were put in requisition. Whilst the
-preparations were going slowly on, the men of the tribe as well as their
-guests were idling listlessly about, their appetites every moment
-rendered sharper by the odor of the smoking viands that were soon to
-form their savory meal.
-
-And truly the banquet was not unworthy the occasion. Just as the sun had
-reached the “middle point in the heavens,” piles upon piles of boiled
-and roasted flesh were spread under the shade of the tall sycamores that
-grew undisturbed in all parts of the village. A large bowl of the finest
-_succotash_ was placed before each guest, and if the quantity eaten be
-the standard of quality, never was there served up a better dinner than
-was that day disposed of in the rude village of Cohammock.
-
-At length the repast was finished. Both guests and entertainers, with a
-prudence truly commendable, ate as if expecting a famine for a month, at
-least, to come, and nothing remained but to indulge in that supreme of
-Indian luxuries, tobacco. Pipes were brought, but alas! there was not a
-particle of the weed to be found. Some miscreant, a fair representative
-of that variety of our race at the present day—ever ready to engender
-strife, had stolen and destroyed all that was to be found in the
-village.
-
-This was a deficiency that could be supplied by no other article.
-Venison or succotash or any other part of the edible entertainment could
-have been dispensed with, but the burning propensities of an Indian must
-be indulged. The Wannamoisetts were as much mortified as their guests
-were offended at this unfortunate occurrence, but it was with difficulty
-the Namaskets could be persuaded that it was not an intentional insult;
-so jealous were the natives of their own honor! Contrary to their
-previous intention, they left their kinsmen in the early part of the
-same afternoon, not caring to remain till morning with those who had, in
-their view, been so parsimonious in their hospitality.
-
-Let us return again to the sea shore at Naumkeag. A month after the
-feast of Cohammock, a party of the Wannamoisett warriors were present at
-a grand collation, prepared by Wappacowat, the Namasket chief. Much were
-they gratified by this expression of his friendship, for they had always
-regretted the affair at their own village, and feared that an open
-rupture would be the consequence. They dreaded this, still cherishing
-some little spark of fraternal affection for those whom they had
-unmeaningly offended.
-
-During the banquet, so busily were the Wannamoisetts engaged in
-despatching the shell and other fish which their friends had made ready,
-that they did not observe that Wappacowat and his followers partook but
-sparingly, so that by the time they had eaten almost to suffocation, and
-were illy prepared for the least exertion, the Namaskets had taken only
-what was just sufficient to stimulate them for any enterprise.
-
-At length Wappacowat gave the signal to his followers to bring the
-calumet, and as he did so, a close observer might have discovered a
-gleam of gratified animosity shoot across his iron features and glisten
-in his snaky eye. Quickly moved his warriors, and the devoted guests
-half stupified by the vast quantities of food they had taken, saw the
-pipes well filled with the luxurious plant, but did not discover the
-tomahawk and the knife which they had concealed under their deer skin
-robes. They sat not smoking long, for suddenly the Namaskets rose and
-each one buried his tomahawk into the brain of the Wannamoisett next
-him. All—all were slain. So well had the treacherous, fratricidal plan
-been matured, that not a single one was left to carry to the desolate
-village of Cohammock the tale of blood and guilt. Ah! yes, there was
-one—Mononchee—the betrothed of Noalwa, who having neglected the feast
-that he might spend the time apart with the fair one, came into the
-village just as the last reeking scalp had been torn from the cloven
-skull. Looking an instant on the appalling spectacle, he uttered a
-furious yell and sprang like a deer towards the river. A dozen tomahawks
-flew after him, and as many dark warriors started in pursuit, but in
-vain, for with a few powerful strokes the brave youth gained the
-opposite bank, and bounding into the woods, effected his escape.
-
-They were buried on the spot where they fell. Perhaps no shade of
-remorse passed over the minds of the murderers, but they could not leave
-the victims there for their flesh to rot and their bones to whiten in
-the sun. They were buried several feet below the surface, and the gloomy
-shades of night fell thick around before the last mangled body was
-hidden from the sight. And as the rising wind swept through the
-thick-topped pines and tall buttonwoods around, it wailed and sighed
-mournfully, as if singing a melancholy dirge over the graves of the
-gallant dead. And by the midnight hour it blew in hoarse and awful
-tones, and the death shouts and groans of the dead were heard
-commingling with the blast; and when the night was darkest, and all save
-the growling of the wind and these unnatural noises, was still, a lurid
-flame sprang up from the centre of the spot where the feast had been,
-and cast a sickening light on all things, and the earth opened around,
-and the bodies of the Wannamoisett warriors, bloody and mangled as they
-were, arose and danced around it, singing their war songs in unearthly
-tones, together with their wild requiem for the dead. Ghastly and
-horrible they looked, and as they danced, the blood flowed from their
-opening wounds, till it reached the strange fire, which instantly shot
-up in one lurid column of flame till it attained the blackened clouds,
-when it disappeared as suddenly as it had burst forth; the spectral
-revellers sank back again into their fresh graves, and all was dark and
-silent as before.
-
-But when the morning broke the Namaskets beheld a spectacle scarcely
-less hideous than that of the preceding night. Their victims had been
-buried, as their custom was, in a sitting posture, and during the night
-they had all risen, so that their heads were fully visible above the
-surface of the ground. The bloody mark of the tomahawk was still there,
-and every scalp was torn off—and the eyeballs, projecting far from the
-sockets, were fixed and glassy, but of a burning red,—glowing like
-living fire. And from them rays of dingy red streamed all over the
-village,—and wherever one of the murderers went, those rays followed
-him, and pierced him, and seemed as if they were burning out his heart.
-
-Reckless with fear and rage the murderers tore the bodies up from the
-ground and dug the graves still deeper and again they placed them in.
-But at midnight the red flame burst forth and the tempest howled
-fearfully. The phantom forms sprung up as before, and this time their
-flesh, from their shoulders downward, dropped off and was consumed by
-the fire, and a dense smoke arose, and a red cloud slowly gathered in
-the air, and hovered round and hung over the spot like a minister of
-vengeance. And in the morning their gory heads and glaring eyes had
-again struggled up above the surface. And when the fratricides saw them,
-a deadly terror crept over them and the demon of remorse began to prey
-upon their souls.
-
-On the third night the scene was changed. The moon did not set at her
-accustomed hour, but hung just above the horizon, red as a sea of blood.
-And in the midst of the fire that shot forth from the earth at midnight,
-a form was seen like that of Wappacowat, the chief. But the ghostly
-images were there again, and they gathered round the form in the centre,
-and with their skeleton fingers tore off its flesh as fast as it was
-seared in the fire, and ground it in their teeth with ravenous appetite.
-When in the morning the dismayed villagers sought their chief they found
-him not, but tied to a stake where the midnight revel had been held was
-a skeleton, the bones all picked clean except the head, which had been
-cloven with a tomahawk, and from it the scalp was also torn, and in its
-features, distorted as if they had stiffened under the keenest tortures,
-they recognized the countenance of their king.
-
-Dismay sat upon every guilty face, and a sullen gloom enshrouded every
-heart. The tribe finding it useless to bury deeper the bodies of their
-slain kinsmen now began to build over them—but every night one of their
-number disappeared, and in the morning his fleshless bones were found
-tied to the fatal stake; and still the heads rose, but every day there
-was one less than before. Then the dreadful truth flashed upon them that
-one of their own number must die in that fearful manner, for every one
-of the Wannamoisetts they had slain. As the number of their dead
-increased, which it did by one for every midnight hour, so did the
-number of spectre heads diminish. One murdered spirit was every night
-appeased, and appeared no more.
-
-Still they kept on building that huge pile, and the dreadful occupation
-to which they clung as affording the only ray of hope that they might be
-delivered before their turn should come round, so wrought upon the
-guilty ones that they soon became almost as ghostly as the phantoms of
-the night which tortured them. But they faltered not in their task.
-Every day the heads were covered and every morning they were found in
-sight. And on the seventieth morning that mound was far higher than it
-now stands. There was then but one head remaining, for just seventy of
-the Wannamoisetts had been slain and just seventy were the murderers. At
-midnight of that day the strange revel was, for the last time, visible,
-for when the skeleton of Mononton, the last and most bloody of the
-fratricides was found, the last head had disappeared forever.
-
-The remainder of the tribe left soon after in search of a more
-auspicious residence. Since the treacherous act of their brethren,
-famine had weakened them and the terrible plague laid many of their
-forest children low. But wherever they wandered, the curse of the Great
-Spirit followed them, and they dwindled away until finally there was no
-place left for them on the earth.
-
-One fair evening in the next summer, two forms sat upon the very mound
-which forms the principal subject of this tale. One was a female of
-fairy proportions, and she looked abroad over the landscape with the eye
-of one to whom its beauties were familiar. Her companion’s face was
-buried in his hands, and his whole frame shook as if the recollection of
-some terrible scene were passing over his memory. And as the eye of
-Noalwa rested on him she, too, divining his thoughts, shuddered, saying,
-
-“Mononchee! let us go hence, never again to return! I cannot bear to
-look upon these scenes where my people lived and where yours so sadly
-perished. These trees that we have planted around the mound which covers
-them will bear witness that their memory is still dear to us. Let us go,
-Mononchee!”
-
-They went to dwell with those that were left of his people. Many and
-bright were their days. Plenty surrounded them. The tribe grew again and
-Mononchee became their chief. The trees which he planted around “Fort
-Point” sprang forth and flourished luxuriantly, and the large junipers
-that still remain are doubtless descended from that parent stock. But
-scarcely any other green thing will grow there; it seems a devoted
-place. Devoted let it be; sacred forever to the shades of those who are
-sleeping in its bosom.
-
------
-
-[4] A wild forest bird.
-
- Unionville, Mass.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- NEVER SHALL MY HEART FORGET THEE!
-
-
- BALLAD—SUNG BY
- MR. SINCLAIR,
- COMPOSED BY
- GEORGE O. FARMER.
-
- _Philadelphia_: John F. Nunns, _184 Chesnut Street_.
-
-
-[Illustration: musical score]
-
- Never shall my heart forget thee,
- Come what may of joy or ill;
- Love, the hour when first I met thee,
- Lives in mem’ry still.
- Beauty’s hallowed light was o’er thee!
-
-[Illustration: musical score]
-
- Music’s spell was on thy tongue,
- Oh, to see was to adore thee,
- Maid of Avinlonge,
- Oh! to see was to adore thee,
- Maid of Avinlonge.
-
- Maid, the shades of night are falling,
- The blest hour of love draws nigh;
- Like the voice of beauty calling,
- Floats the bird-song by.
- Tho’ our fond hearts fate should sever,
- Darkly doomed to pine alone;
- Still as first they loved, forever
- Should our souls love on.
-
- Though from dreams of hope awaking.
- I can scorn Fate’s ire to me,
- Smile, tho’ my own heart be breaking,
- If Fate wounds not thee!
- Never shall my lips deceive thee,
- My devotion ne’er decline,
- Dearest, until life shall leave me,
- My whole heart is thine.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- Sports and Pastimes.—THE FOWLING-PIECE.
-
-
- THE LOCK—THE PERCUSSION SYSTEM—TRIGGERS—WADDING—AMMUNITION, ETC.
-
-The flint and steel lock, like the matchlock, has had its day; and the
-one is as likely as the other to supersede the detonator. There were
-some sportsmen who long retained the flint in preference to the
-copper-cap. Their partiality for the old system arose from their
-inability to depart from the manner of taking aim to which they had been
-accustomed—they fired too forward! It was said, too, that a barrel
-fired by a detonating lock, did not throw shot so efficiently as the
-other. That objection is now obviated by making barrels perfectly
-cylindrical throughout the whole length of the tube. We prefer the
-copper-cap lock for its simplicity, to any other system of firing by
-percussion.
-
-A bad lock, in these _march-of-improvement_ days, is rarely fixed to a
-gun. Since the use of detonators has become general, the quality of the
-lock is not of so much consequence to the sportsman as it was
-previously. The quickness of firing with the old flint and steel locks
-depended so much on the workmanship of the lock, that a
-properly-tempered and well-filed one was invaluable. The introduction of
-detonators has by no means improved the quality of the workmanship of
-the lock—it has rather deteriorated it. The fact is, the master
-gunmakers, finding the lock not so much looked at as formerly, are
-become indifferent to obtaining the assistance, or unwilling to incur
-the expense of first-rate workmen. The hardening and filing of a lock in
-an artist-like manner, requires no common skill. The best locks ever
-turned out were those made on the flint and steel principle, at the time
-when detonators first came into vogue; the smartness with which the
-percussion locks fired, obliged the makers of the flint and steel locks
-to bestow double diligence and labor on their work, conscious that a
-rival was in the field with whom it required no ordinary pains to
-compete. Flint locks, whether as applied to the fowling-piece or the
-musket, will soon be forgotten, or remembered only to give a romantic
-interest to some tale of other times, as the arbalast and long-bow serve
-only to remind us of our Norman and Saxon ancestors! It requires some
-mechanical knowledge and some experience, to decide on the merit of a
-lock. The vulgar method of trying one is this:—The operator draws back
-the hammer with his thumb, not touching the trigger with his finger, and
-if the works in the interior catch and snap smartly at the half-way, and
-when the hammer is drawn back, he may rely on the main-spring being
-sufficiently strong and free to fire the caps: then, with his thumb
-still on the hammer, he draws the trigger and lets the hammer glide
-slowly down upon the pivot. With a little practice he will be able, in
-some degree, to discriminate between a good lock and a bad one. To prove
-the difference in quality, he should take up a well-finished lock; that
-is, one of hard material, well filed, and having springs of a suitable
-and corresponding strength, and compare it with an inferior lock; by a
-nice touch he will perceive the difference: the hammer of the former
-slides backwards and forwards with a smooth, even force; whilst that of
-the latter runs rough and gritty, as if clogged with sand. If this
-somewhat uncertain mode of trial serve no other purpose, it will enable
-the shooter, when he takes up a gun that has been used since being
-cleaned, to discover whether the lock is sufficiently free from rust and
-dirt as to be fit for the day’s service; for most assuredly, if the lock
-be clogged, when thus worked backwards and forwards, it will not snap,
-or in sporting phrase _talk_; and in that case it would be unsafe to use
-it. A detonating lock that will bear this trial, and will invariably
-fire the cap, may be pronounced quite good enough for any sporting
-purpose.
-
-The triggers should be what are technically termed _box-triggers_, and
-should be taken from the stock and cleaned at least once during the
-season, and oftener if very much exposed to dust, rain, or a damp
-atmosphere. They should be adjusted with scrupulous nicety, so as to
-require only a slight touch to draw them: they should not, indeed, fire
-as easily as the hair-triggers of duelling pistols, but should be fixed
-so firmly as that the sportsman should not be liable to discharge his
-piece, while bringing it up to his shoulder cocked, with his finger upon
-one of the triggers. The triggers may sometimes be regulated by filing,
-hardening, or softening the scear spring, or filing the wedge-like part
-of the scear which falls into the notches of the tumbler: and sometimes
-it is necessary to file that part of the trigger which comes in contact
-with the scear, but this operation requires to be carefully performed. A
-valuable lock should not be placed in the hands of an unskilful workman
-for the apparently trifling purpose of regulating the triggers, nor yet
-for any other purpose.
-
-The wadding we should recommend is that made of felt, and anointed with
-some chemical preparation. We are not sure that this is the very best
-description of wadding, but we know of none better. New waddings are
-constantly invented. The metallic wadding, concave wadding, punched
-cards, or punched hat wadding, are any of them good, as regards
-shooting. The chief reason why we bestow a preference on the anointed
-wadding is, because the barrel is kept less foul, and may be fired so
-many times oftener without requiring cleaning, than when any other
-description of wadding with which we are acquainted is used. We are not
-partial to a tight wadding, but it should fit so that when the barrel is
-clean and smooth within, the charge will not stir. There is little fear
-of the charge stirring after a barrel has been fired a few times, as the
-place where the leading or foulness accumulates in greatest quantity is
-just above where the charge of shot lies.
-
-Considerable improvement has been made in copper-caps since they were
-first introduced. The composition in all of them is now good; that which
-possesses the anti-corrosive principle is perhaps best. There is much
-difference in the copper of which they are made, but that is of little
-consequence when good locks with concave or well shielded hammers are
-used, otherwise those made of bad copper are said to be dangerous. We
-never heard of an accident from them. The shooter should be particular
-in procuring copper-caps of a proper size; for if they do not fit the
-pivots, considerable inconvenience will be experienced. When too small,
-they will not explode; and when too large, the cap on the second pivot
-is apt to fly off when the first barrel is fired. The shooter will find
-it convenient to carry a quantity of caps loose in his waistcoat pocket,
-with a reserve in a box (a metal box water-tight is best) to have
-recourse to should those in his pocket become wet. He should take care
-that there be nothing in his pocket to choke the caps; and by way of
-precaution, he should, before putting a cap on the pivot, see that there
-be no dirt in the cap, and that it be perfect.
-
-The best powder does not soil the gun so much as inferior powder. After
-using good powder, a redness will be observed round the orifice of the
-pivot. After using coarse powder, a white or black appearance will
-present itself. The purer the powder is, the oftener may a barrel be
-fired without requiring to be cleaned.
-
-When the measure on the flask is regulated as it ought to be, it will
-hold the requisite charge for a clean barrel on a warm dry day. It
-behoves the shooter, then, when the atmosphere is moist and the wind
-boisterous, to increase the charge of powder in each barrel in a
-trifling degree. However stormy the day may be, the shooter may prevent
-the particles of powder from being blown away while he is charging; but
-he cannot prevent them adhering to the damp leaded interior of the
-barrels. Indeed, if the barrels be damp, as they cannot fail to be if
-the air be so, and there be no wind at all, they cannot be held quite
-perpendicular, so that the whole charge of powder shall find its way to
-the breech. One-fifth of the charge will sometimes adhere. Doubtless,
-when tight wadding is used, the whole, or nearly the whole, of the
-charge finds its way to the bottom: but in what state? A portion of it
-is wet!—and the result is, that, when the piece is discharged, only
-four-fifths ignite!
-
-The fowling-piece should be put by clean, oiled, and the barrels corked
-or stopped, and with the hammers upon the pivots. It should be kept in a
-cloth or woolen case, in a dry room, and, when not in constant use,
-occasionally rubbed with linen dipped in olive oil. The inside of the
-barrel should be frequently oiled, the oil being immediately wiped out
-with a dry cloth wrapped round the cleaning rod. Neat’s-foot oil is best
-for the lock, and linseed oil is recommended for the stocks, but it is
-so offensive that we prefer olive oil.
-
-Large-grained powder is generally stronger than small-grained. It is
-well to be cautious that the grain is not so large as not to fill the
-nipple freely, or misfires will be the consequence. Powder which suits
-one gun may not suit another; the larger the bore of the gun, the larger
-should be the grain of the powder. An instrument for trying the strength
-of powder should not be trusted to: the best trial is with the gun in
-which the powder is intended to be used, and there can be no better
-target for trying the comparative strength of different powders, than an
-unbound book fixed firmly against something solid.
-
-The heavier and harder the metal of which shot is made the better.[5]
-
------
-
-[5] As shot is numbered differently by different manufacturers, we give
-the number to the ounce of the sizes to which we have referred:
-
- A. A. about 40
- A. — 50
- B. B. — 60
- B. — 75
- 1. — 80
- 2. — 110
- 3. — 130
- 4. — 180
- 5. — 220
- 6. — 270
- 7. — 350
- 8. — 600
- 9. — 1000
- 10. — 1700
-
-
- CHARGING THE FOWLING-PIECE.
-
-It is not usual to charge the gun until arriving at the shooting ground.
-When there, however advisable on the score of caution it may be,
-flashing off a quantity of powder to clear out, dry, and warm the gun
-before loading, has certainly a cockney appearance; the more
-sportsman-like practice is,—the party having reliance on the person who
-cleans his gun,—merely to permit the ramrod to fall lightly to the
-bottom of each barrel. The barrels are then held as perpendicularly as
-possible while the powder is poured in, so that nearly the whole charge
-may reach home, and not adhere in its descent. The barrel is then tapped
-with the ramrod, or the gun slightly shook against the foot, that powder
-may find its way into the pivots,—that is the more necessary when
-coarse-grained powder is used. A wadding is then gently pressed down.
-The shot is next poured in, and a slight shake of the gun in an upward
-direction causes it to lie evenly;—a wadding is pressed upon it. The
-shooter next removes the remains of the caps, and looks whether the
-powder has found its way to the orifice of the pivots, and if it has, he
-places fresh caps on; if powder is not visible at the orifice of the
-pivots, he removes any obstacle with a pricker, and contrives to push
-down a few grains of powder. It is very material to attend to this
-point, to prevent miss-fires.
-
-
- THE WIRE-CARTRIDGE.
-
-The wire-cartridge was invented, in 1828, by Mr. Jenour. It consists of
-a cylindrical case or network of wire, the meshes of which are somewhat
-more than an eighth of an inch square; at the lower end the wire
-partially closes; the wire case is then enveloped in fine paper, and at
-the upper end a cork wadding, cut so as to fit the gauge of the gun, is
-affixed, the case is then filled with shot and bone dust. The first
-cartridges made, though ingenious in construction, were defective in
-operation. It was a matter of no ordinary difficulty to fabricate them
-in such a manner that the shot should leave the case at the precise
-distance required. This at first could not be done so that they might be
-trusted in every instance; every alternate cartridge might fire well,
-but the rest would fire irregularly, being liable to ball,—that is, the
-shot would not leave the case until fifty or sixty yards from the gun,
-and such cartridges were, of course, not only useless but dangerous.
-They have been from time to time improved, and almost every difficulty
-has been overcome. The sporting cartridges now made never ball, they act
-with a considerable degree of precision and certainty, and that they may
-be safely trusted may be inferred from the fact that they are often
-preferred by persons engaged in pigeon matches. Various materials were
-used experimentally to fill up the interstices between the pellets, but
-nothing seems to answer so well as the material now used. Another
-difficulty in their construction presented itself. It was requisite to
-accommodate them to the various methods of boring used by different
-gunmakers, and the unequal length of barrels, the object in view being
-to produce a cartridge that would suit all barrels of the same gauge,
-and this has been in a great measure, if not wholly, accomplished. The
-liability to ball, notwithstanding various improvements made in them,
-was not effectually obviated for many years, during which they were
-tried, and in many instances prematurely condemned, either from real
-defects, or from the parties not knowing how to use them. They were not
-brought to perfection until the year 1837.
-
-The wire-cartridges possess two principal advantages over loose shot;
-they are propelled with greater velocity, and thrown more evenly. A
-loose charge is always thrown in patches; the shots of a cartridge, as
-seen on a target, are comparatively equi-distant from each other.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.
-
-
- _Guy Fawkes; or The Gunpowder Treason. An Historical Romance.
- By_ William Harrison Ainsworth, _Author of “The Tower of
- London,” “Jack Sheppard,” &c. Philadelphia. Lea and Blanchard._
-
-What Mr. William Harrison Ainsworth had been doing before he wrote
-“Rookwood” is uncertain; but it seems to us that he made his literary
-_début_ with that work. It was generally commended; but we found no
-opportunity of perusing it. “Crichton” followed, and this we read; for
-our curiosity was much excited in regard to it by certain discrepancies
-of critical opinion. In one or two instances it was unequivocally
-condemned as “flat, stale and unprofitable,” although, to be sure, the
-critics, in these one or two instances, were men of little note. The
-more prevalent idea appeared to be that the book was a miracle of wit
-and wisdom, and that Ainsworth who wrote “Crichton,” was in fact
-Crichton _redivivus_. We have now before us a number of a Philadelphia
-Magazine for the month of April, 1840, in which the learned editor thus
-speaks of the work in question—“Mr. Ainsworth is a powerful writer; his
-‘Crichton’ _stands at the head of the long list of English
-novels—unapproachable and alone_. . . . This great glory is fairly Mr.
-Ainsworth’s due, and in our humble opinion, _the fact is
-incontrovertible_.” Upon a perusal of the novel so belauded, we found it
-a somewhat ingenious admixture of pedantry, bombast, and rigmarole. No
-man ever read “Crichton” through twice. From beginning to end it is one
-continued abortive effort at effect. The writer keeps us in a perpetual
-state of preparation for something magnificent; but the something
-magnificent never arrives. He is always saying to the reader, directly
-or indirectly, “_now_, in a _very_ brief time, you shall see what you
-shall see!” The reader turns over the page in expectation, and meets
-with nothing beyond the same everlasting assurance:—another page and
-the same result—another and still the same—and so on to the end of the
-performance. One cannot help fancying the novelist in some perplexing
-dream—one of those frequently recurring visions, half night-mare half
-asphyxia, in which the sufferer, although making the most strenuous
-efforts to _run_, finds a walk or a crawl the _ne plus ultra_ of his
-success in locomotion.
-
-The plot is monstrously improbable, and yet not so much improbable as
-inconsequential. A German critic would say that the whole is excessively
-_ill-motivert_. No one action follows necessarily upon any one other.
-There is, at all times, the greatest parade of _measures_, but measures
-that have no comprehensible result. The author works busily for a
-chapter or two with a view of bringing matters in train for a certain
-end; and then suffers this end to be either omitted—unaccomplished—or
-brought to pass by accidental and irrelevant circumstances. The reader
-of taste very soon perceives this defect in the conduct of the story,
-and, ceasing to feel any interest in marches and countermarches that
-promise no furtherance of any object, abandons himself to the
-investigation of the page only which is immediately before him.
-Despairing of all amusement from the _construction_ of the book, he
-falls back upon its immediate descriptions. But, alas, what is there
-here to excite any emotion in the bosom of a well-read man, beyond that
-of contempt? If an occasional interest is aroused, he feels it due, not
-to the novelist, but to the historical reminiscences which even that
-novelist’s inanity cannot render altogether insipid. The turgid
-pretension of the style annoys, and the elaborately-interwoven pedantry
-irritates, insults, and disgusts. He must be blind, indeed, who cannot
-understand the great pains taken by Mr. Ainsworth to interlard the book
-in question with second-hand hits of classical and miscellaneous
-erudition; and he must be equally blind who cannot perceive that _this_
-is the chicanery which has so impressed the judgment, and dazzled the
-imagination of such critics as he of the aforesaid Magazine. We know
-nothing at all of Mr. Ainsworth’s scholarship. There are some very
-equivocal blunders in “Crichton,” to be sure; but _Ainsworth_ is a
-classical name, and we must make _very_ great allowances for the usual
-errors of press. We say, however, that, from all that appears in the
-novel in question, he may be as really ignorant as a bear. True
-erudition—by which term we here mean only to imply much diversified
-reading—is certainly discoverable—is positively indicated only in its
-ultimate and total _results_. We have observed elsewhere, that the mere
-grouping together of fine things from the greatest multiplicity of the
-rarest works, or even the apparently natural inweaving into any
-composition of the sentiments and manner of these works, is an
-attainment within the reach of every moderately-informed, ingenious, and
-not indolent man, having access to any ordinary collection of good
-books. Of all vanities the vanity of the unlettered pedant is the most
-sickening, and the most transparent.
-
-Mr. Ainsworth having thus earned for himself the kind of renown which
-“Crichton” could establish with the rabble, made his next appearance
-before that rabble with “Jack Sheppard.” Seeing what we have just seen,
-we should by no means think it wonderful that this romance threw into
-the greatest astonishment the little critics who so belauded the one
-preceding. They could not understand it at all. They would not believe
-that the same author had written both. Thus they condemned it in loud
-terms. The Magazine before alluded to, styles it, in round terms, “the
-most corrupt, flat, and vulgar fabrication in the English language . . .
-a disgrace to the literature of the day.” Corrupt and vulgar it
-undoubtedly is, but it is by no means so _flat_ (if we understand the
-critic’s idea of the term) as the “Crichton” to which it is considered
-so terribly inferior. By “_flat_” we presume “uninteresting” is
-intended. To us, at least, no novel was less _interesting_ than
-“Crichton,” and the only interest which it _could_ have had for any
-reader must have arisen from admiration excited by the apparently
-miraculous _learning_ of the plagiarist, and from the air of owlish
-profundity which he contrives to throw over the work. The interest, if
-any, must have had regard to the author and not to his book. Viewed as a
-work of art, and without reference to any supposed moral or immoral
-tendencies, (things with which the critic has nothing to do) “Jack
-Sheppard” is by no means the _very_ wretched composition which some
-gentlemen would have us believe. Its condemnation has been brought about
-by the revulsion consequent upon the exaggerated estimate of “Crichton.”
-It is altogether a much better book than “Crichton.” Although its
-incidents are improbable—(the frequent miraculous escapes of the hero,
-for instance, without competent means) still they are not, as in
-“Crichton,” at the same time inconsequential. Admitting the facts, these
-facts hang together sufficiently well. Nor is there any bombast of
-style; this negative merit, to be sure, being no merit of the author’s,
-but an enforced one resulting from the subject. The chief defect of the
-work is a radical one, the nature and effect of which we were at some
-pains to point out in a late notice of Captain Marryatt’s “Poacher.” The
-story being, no doubt, written to order, for Magazine purposes, and in a
-violent hurry, has been scrambled through by means of _incident_ solely.
-It is totally wanting in the _autorial comment_. The writer never pauses
-to speak, in his own person, of what is going on. It is possible to have
-too much of this comment; but it is far easier to have too little. The
-most tedious books, _ceteris paribus_, are those which have none at all.
-“Sir Charles Grandison,” “Clarissa Harlowe,” and the “Ernest Maltravers”
-of Bulwer embody instances of its superabundance. The genius of the
-author of “Pelham” is in nothing more evident than in the interest which
-he has infused into some of his late works _in spite_ of their
-ultra-didacticism. The “Poacher” just mentioned, and “The Arabian
-Nights” are examples of deficiency in the commenting principle, and are
-both intolerably tedious _in spite_ of their rich variety of incident.
-The _juste milieu_ was never more admirably attained than in De Foe’s
-“Robinson Crusoe” and in the “Caleb Williams” of Godwin. This latter
-work, from the character of its incidents, affords a fine opportunity of
-contrast with “Jack Sheppard.” In both novels the hero escapes
-repeatedly from prison. In the work of Ainsworth the escapes are merely
-narrated. In that of Godwin they are _discussed_. With the latter we
-become at once absorbed in those details which so manifestly absorb his
-own soul. We read with the most breathless attention. We close the book
-with a real regret. The former puts us out of all patience. His marvels
-have a nakedness which repels. Nothing he relates seems either probable
-or possible, or of the slightest interest, whether the one or the other.
-His hero impresses us as a mere chimæra with whom we have no earthly
-concern, and when he makes his final escape and comes to the gallows, we
-would feel a very sensible relief, but for the impracticability of
-hanging up Mr. Ainsworth in his stead. But if “Jack Sheppard” is a
-miserably inartistical book, still it is by no means so utterly
-contemptible and silly as the tawdry stuff which has been pronounced
-“_the best of English novels, standing at the head of the long list
-unapproachable and alone!_”
-
-Of “The Tower of London” we have read only some detached
-passages—enough to assure us, however, that the “_work_,” like Yankee
-razors, has been manufactured merely “to sell.” “Guy Fawkes,” the book
-now lying before us, and the last completed production of its author, is
-positively beneath criticism and beneath contempt. The design of Mr.
-Ainsworth has been to fill, for a certain sum of money, a stipulated
-number of pages. There existed a necessity of _engaging_ the readers
-whom especially he now addresses—that is to say the lowest order of the
-lettered mob—a necessity of enticing them into the commencement of a
-perusal. For this end the title “Guy Fawkes or The Gunpowder Plot” was
-all sufficient, at least within the regions of Cockaigne. As for
-fulfilling any reasonable expectations, derived either from the _ad
-captandum_ title, or from his own notoriety (we dare not say reputation)
-as a novelist—as for exerting himself for the permanent or continuous
-amusement of the poor flies whom he had inveigled into his trap—all
-this, with him, has been a consideration of no moment. He had a _task_
-to perform, and not a duty. What were his readers to Mr.
-Ainsworth?—“What Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba?” The result of such a
-state of affairs is self-evident. With his _best_ exertions, in his
-earliest efforts, with all the goadings of a sickening vanity which
-stood him well instead of nobler ambition—with all this, he _could_
-do—he _has done_—but little; and without them he has now accomplished
-exactly nothing at all. If ever, indeed, a novel were _less_ than
-nothing, then that novel is “Guy Fawkes.” To say a word about it in the
-way of serious criticism, would be to prove ourselves as great a
-blockhead as its author. _Macte virtute_, my dear sir—proceed and
-flourish. In the meantime we bid you a final farewell. Your next volume,
-which will have some such appellation as “The Ghost of Cock-Lane,” we
-shall take the liberty of throwing unopened out of the window. Our pigs
-are not all of the description called learned, but they will have more
-leisure for its examination than we.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _The Gift: A Christmas and New-Year’s Present for 1842. Carey
- and Hart: Philadelphia._
-
-This volume of “The Gift” is superior to any yet published. Mrs. Embury
-has an entertaining story, and Miss Leslie’s account of a “Family that
-Didn’t take Boarders” is also quite amusing. Mr. Simms has a well
-narrated tale—Mr. Seba Smith has another—Professor Frost another—Mrs.
-Ellet, also, and the author of “A New Home.” We ourselves have one which
-is not ended so well as it might be—a good subject spoiled by hurry in
-the handling. The poetry, in general, is insipid. Mrs. Sigourney has not
-done herself justice. Lieut. G. W. Patten, U. S. A. has three effusions,
-neither of which do credit to the Annual. This gentleman, who writes
-frequently, and should therefore write well, is singularly remiss in his
-metaphors, and often grievously deficient in his grammar. What does he
-mean, at page 309, by
-
- As sleep the brave so thou _should_ sleep (?)
-
-or, at page 165, by
-
- The storm is on the sea—I hear its _wings_
- In _thunder fretting_ o’er the lifted wave (?)
-
-This is surely a most singular instance of metaphor run mad! Here are
-three conflicting images at one time in the brain of the poet. By the
-word “wings” the reader is made to understand the prosopopeia of the
-storm as a _bird_; by “thunder” (a _natural_ accompaniment of tempests)
-he is brought back to the impersonified storm; by “fretting” he is left
-in no doubt that the writer’s ideas are running upon a _horse_—and all
-this in the compass of one line and a half!
-
-The “Stanzas” by Park Benjamin have a rich simplicity which of all
-literary qualities is the most difficult of attainment, and of all
-merits the most uncertain of appreciation; but we are sorry to say that
-they are the _only_ good verses in the volume.
-
-The engravings are very fine. We will speak of them briefly one by one.
-
-The “Country Girl,” by Cheney from Sully, is a _truthful_ picture. The
-design is perfect. The only fault of the execution lies in the undue
-breadth of the face; this defect would be remedied by deepening the
-shade beneath the left ear. The work of the engraver is well done.
-
-“Vignette Head,” by Cheney from Sully—one of the latter’s favorite
-heads—the face that of a pouting hoyden. The hair is beautifully
-_massed_. The _vignetting_ is carried too low as regards the bosom, from
-which half an inch should be taken off at bottom, or otherwise some
-lines of shading introduced to relieve it of its blank appearance. The
-arm is execrable—the hand worse—both are too massive and sinewy.
-
-“Dulcinea,” by Cheney from Leslie. No fault can be found with this
-picture, which is admirable in every respect. The right arm, in
-especial, is exquisitely rounded and foreshortened.
-
-“The Tough Story” by J. J. Pease, from W. S. Mount. Mr. Mount’s merits
-are those of acute observation and fidelity. These merits, although not
-of the highest order, have the advantage of being universally
-appreciable. This is an advantage which he secures—_clinches_—by
-dealing only in homely subjects. If he has ideality (a question which as
-yet we have had no means of deciding) and would employ his peculiar
-talents upon loftier themes, he might attain a very desirable eminence
-indeed.
-
-Nothing could be more true to nature than the picture before us; but the
-painter has sacrificed to this truth (at some points) artistical effects
-of superior value. What can be more displeasing, for example, than the
-unrelieved nakedness of the wall in the back ground, or the situation of
-the group precisely in the centre of the design, or, especially, than
-the tall regular stove pipe, running up parallel with the back of the
-standing figure, and dividing the apartment exactly in two?
-
-“The Gipsy,” by Cheney from Sully, is altogether out of drawing as
-regards the face, which is, again, too broad to the left. This is a very
-usual error in side faces. The fingers are badly engraved, particularly
-those of the right hand, which look as if covered with a net or pic-nic
-glove. The foliage in this picture is not very well executed.
-
-“The Sled” by W. E. Tucker, from Chapman, is a most effective design,
-evincing the well-educated artist. The idea of rapid motion is skilfully
-embodied in the countenance of the boy, in the peculiar falling curve of
-the hill, and exquisitely _corroborated_ in the whirl of the clouds.
-This is the true artistical keeping. The limbs of the boy are too small
-for his head and body, and the left hand appears to have been cut from a
-turnip. This latter defect is chargeable to the engraver.
-
-“The Raffle” by A. Lawson from Mount. This is another of Mr. Mount’s
-idiosyncrasies, and is absolute perfection _in its way_. The defects of
-the work (considered as a mere picture) which we pointed out in the
-“Tough Story,” are not observable here. The grouping of the figures and
-the arrangement of the design generally, are as admirable as the varied
-expression of the Yankee faces. The light, however, is too equally
-disposed about the room, and, in especial, upon the three middle
-personages. It is difficult, moreover, to imagine these three persons so
-illumined, and the back of the foreground figure at the same time so
-fully in shade. These are petty objections—but it is right they should
-be made.
-
-“Portia,” by Forrest from Sully, is an engraving in which the mere
-mechanism is excellent; and, in fact, the work is, upon the whole,
-highly creditable to Mr. Forrest. The hands, however, are badly done;
-the left especially. Some knowledge of drawing is absolutely essential
-in one who copies. This knowledge cannot be supplied by even Chinese
-fidelity in depicting dot for dot and line for line. The picture,
-altogether, we prefer to any in the book. Were we in the habit of
-purchasing paintings this “Portia” by Sully is the only one here which
-we would purchase.
-
-The paper of “The Gift” for 1842 does not seem to us sufficiently good.
-The binding is certainly magnificent, but would have been vastly
-improved by the use of a thicker board.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _Amenities of Literature, consisting of Sketches and Characters
- of English Literature. By_ J. D’Israeli, _D.C.L. F. S. A. 2
- vols. I. & H. G. Langley: New York._
-
-The reputation of the elder D’Israeli as scholar and philosopher is at
-least as well founded as that of any man of his age. He has given to the
-world a series of _peculiar_ books—books in which the richest variety
-of _recherché_ detail and anecdote about literary affairs, is made
-subservient to the most comprehensive survey and analysis of letters
-themselves, considered in respect to their important spiritual uses. He
-is the only _savant_ upon record who has busied himself, without
-pedantry, among the _minutiæ_ of classical lore. His works will last as
-long as the language in which they are written. The “Curiosities of
-Literature,” the “Literary Character,” the “Miscellanies of Literature,”
-the “Calamities of Authors,” and all but the present “Amenities of
-Literature” are, however, but incidental labors arising from a more
-extensive design—a “History of English Literature”—of which he thus
-speaks. “It was my intention not to furnish an arid narrative of books
-and of authors, but, following the steps of the human mind through the
-wide track of time, to trace from their beginnings the progress and the
-decline of public opinions, and to illustrate, as the objects presented
-themselves, the great incidents in our national annals.” In this
-magnificent project the philosopher was arrested by blindness. The
-“Amenities of Literature” is a portion and in fact the beginning of the
-great scheme which can now never be completed. We need say no more to
-recommend it to the reader. The two volumes before us are issued in the
-customary careful and tasteful style of the Langleys.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _The Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of Sir Edward Lytton
- Bulwer, author of “Pelham,” &c. 2 vols. Lea and Blanchard:
- Philadelphia._
-
-We have read these volumes with the highest pleasure. They embrace all
-of the known minor writings of Bulwer, with the exception of his shorter
-fictions; and we recognize in the collection several very excellent
-articles which had arrested our attention and excited our curiosity
-while their authorship was undivulged.
-
-Mr. Bulwer is _never_ lucid, and seldom profound. His intellect seems to
-be rather well balanced than lofty—rather comprehensive than
-penetrative. His taste is exquisite. His style, in its involution and
-obscurity, partakes of the involution of his thoughts. Apart from his
-mere intellect, however,—or rather as a portion of that intellect—we
-recognize in his every written word the keenest appreciation of the
-right, the beautiful, and the true. Thus he is a man worthy of all
-reverence, and we do not hesitate to say that we look upon the charges
-of immoral tendency which have been so pertinaciously adduced against
-his fictions, as absurdly _little_ and untenable, in the mass.
-
-The volumes now before us are plain evidence of the noble spirit which
-has constantly actuated him. The papers here published were written at
-various epochs of his life. We look through them in vain for anything
-false, as a whole, or unchivalrous, or impure, or weak, or tasteless, or
-ignoble. Were we addicted _jurare in verba magistri_, there lives no man
-upon whose faith we would more confidently rely than upon that of
-Bulwer—no man whose opinion upon any point involving a question of
-truth, or justice, or taste, we would be more willing to adopt
-unexamined.
-
-We have been especially pleased with an article (in the volumes now
-before us) entitled “Literature Considered as a Profession,” and with
-another “Upon the Spirit of True Criticism.” Some remarks in the latter
-paper are quite as applicable to our own country as to Great Britain.
-
- “‘To say this is good and that is bad,’ says La Bruyère, ‘is not
- morality.’ Very true, neither is it criticism. There is no
- criticism in this country—considering that word as the name of
- a science. A book comes out—it is capital, says one—it is
- detestable, says another. Its characters are unnatural—its
- characters are nature itself. On both sides there is
- affirmation, on neither proof. In fact no science requires such
- elaborate study as criticism. It is the most analytical of our
- mental operations—to pause—to examine—to say _why_ that
- passage is a sin against nature, or that plot a violation of
- art—to bring deep knowledge of life in all its guises—of the
- heart in all its mysteries to bear upon a sentence of approval
- or disapprobation—to have cultivated the feeling of beauty
- until its sense of harmony has grown as fine as the ear of a
- musician—equally sensitive to discord—or alive to new
- combinations:—these are no light qualities, and these are not
- qualities, it may be answered, to be lightly lavished away.
- Every new book, it may be said, does not deserve that we should
- so honor it. We need not invoke the Past, and summon all Nature
- to hear us praise a butterfly, or crush a bug. We may on slight
- works arrogate the censor—yes, but we must first have been
- chosen the censor, by the acumen we have testified on great
- ones. Now, when an author who has risen into eminence, who
- begins to produce an effect upon his age, whose faults it
- becomes necessary to indicate as a warning, whose beauties we
- should illustrate as an example—when such a man produces a new
- work, what is the cant cry of the critics? ‘The peculiar merits
- and failings of Mr. So and So are too well known for us at this
- time of day to repeat them. The present work has all the
- characteristics of the last—if it does not increase, it will
- not diminish the well-earned reputation of the author.’ Then
- come the extracts, and a word or two at the end as precise and
- lucid as those at the beginning, and——there’s THE CRITICISM!
-
- “For my part, I please myself sometimes with drawing the ideal
- picture of a good critic, as Bolingbroke drew that of a patriot
- king. What a crowd of accomplishments, not easily seen by the
- superficial, belong to that character! Literature and morality
- are so entwined that you rarely find the real critic unless he
- is also the moralist. The union is almost necessary. In
- Quinctilian how beautifully the deduction closes the dogma! and
- even in Johnson the habit of moralizing gives dignity to his
- criticisms. In both sciences the study of mankind, of the
- metaphysical nature within us, alone insures a sound judgment:
- in both, without a delicate yet profound perception of the
- harmonious, the beautiful, the august, no commanding excellency
- is obtained. The goodness of a man and the goodness of a book
- are not such different qualities as people suppose. A person,
- however, _may_ be, though he is not often, a good moralist
- without being a good man: to preach and practice are faculties
- not inseparable. But I doubt if a man can be a great critic who
- has not, at least, the elementary qualities of a good man. I
- consider that he must keep the intellectual sight clear from
- envy, and malice, and personal dislikes. He must examine the
- work above and remote from all the petty considerations that
- attach to the man. He must be on the alert for genius, ready to
- encourage even a rival to himself. Where this largeness of mind
- is not visible, there is always something petty and crippled in
- the mind of the professional critic. He may make one great
- criticism, but he cannot criticise with greatness habitually.
- Perhaps he reviews some dead author—for the dead interfere not
- with the living; or he wastes a world of generosity, like
- Southey, in praising some rhymester of the pantry, who is little
- enough while he attracts honor to the praiser to plunge into
- forgetfulness the praise. The good critic—that rare ideal, must
- have in him courage to blame boldly, magnanimity to eschew envy,
- benevolence to search for obscure merit. He must have genius to
- appreciate, and learning to compare: he must have an eye for
- beauty, an ear for music, a heart for feeling, a mind for
- reason. ‘We are conscious of excellency,’ says some author, ‘in
- proportion to the excellence within ourselves.’”
-
-We wish also to call attention to a very excellent article on the
-subject of “International Copyright.” The only paper in the collection
-which we could have wished omitted is one entitled “A Letter to the
-Quarterly Review,”—an attempt at vindictive retaliation upon Lockhart.
-We admire this gentleman quite as little as Mr. Bulwer can possibly do,
-but we grieve to see an attack which has neither vigor nor wit, and
-which proves nothing beyond the writer’s wrath and utter incapacity for
-satire.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _The Pic Nic Papers. By various Hands. Edited by_ Charles
- Dickens, Esq. _author of “The Pickwick Papers,” &c. 2 vols. Lea
- and Blanchard: Philadelphia._
-
-The “Introduction” to this work gives us its history. “The premature
-death of a young publisher (Mr. Macrone) inspired some of those who had
-known him personally, or had been connected with him in business, with
-an earnest desire to render some assistance to his widow and orphans.
-They produced among themselves this work.” In the English edition there
-were three volumes; the third consisting of the “Charcoal Sketches” of
-Mr. Joseph C. Neal, of Philadelphia. This edition we have not seen; but
-have been astonished to hear that the London publisher has been so
-discourteous as to print Mr. Neal’s compositions, and the engravings
-which accompanied them, without the _name_ of the writer, or any farther
-acknowledgment than a few words speaking of the whole as “from an
-American source.” Comment upon such meanness seems altogether a work of
-supererogation; but, in truth, we are in the habit of setting our
-brethren across the water very bad examples in matters of a somewhat
-similar kind. That Mr. Dickens had any thing to do with the wrong now
-perpetrated, we will not, however, believe for a moment.
-
-The contributors to the two volumes reprinted in Philadelphia are among
-the most celebrated _literati_ of England. We have, for example,
-articles from Dickens, from Leigh Ritchie, Allan Cunningham, Thomas
-Moore, W. H. Ainsworth, G. P. R. James, Agnes Strickland and several
-others. It might be supposed, of course, that the collection would be
-one of high interest: but we are forced to say that it _is not_. In a
-case like this, authors (who for the most part are unburthened with
-pecuniary means) are called upon to furnish _gratuitous_ papers. It is
-not surprising that, under such circumstances, they content themselves
-with bestowing whatever MS. they may have at hand, of least value.
-Scraps from memorandum-books; effusions of early years kept only as
-mementos and never destined for publication; fragments of tales or
-essays definitely abandoned by the author, who has become dissatisfied
-with his subject or the mode in which it was progressing—matters such
-as these form invariably the staple of compilations such as this. There
-is, moreover, another important consideration—one involving a very
-remarkable truth. The _refuse_ labor of a man of genius is usually
-inferior, and greatly so, to that of the man of common-place
-talent:—very much as the dregs of the _Côtes du Rhone_ are more viscid
-than those of Sherry or _De Grâve_. It is only necessary to suggest this
-idea to have it at once fully appreciated and understood. The man of
-talent pursues “the even tenor of his way.” He is at all times
-_himself_. With the all-prevalent law of action and reaction he has
-nothing to do. Never excited into wild enthusiasm, he never experiences
-its consequent and inevitable depression. Never boldly soaring, he never
-sadly sinks. To write well, the man of genius must write in obedience to
-his impulses. When forced to disobey them—when constrained, by the
-fetters of a methodical duty, to compose at _all_ hours—it is but a
-portion of his nature—it is but a condition of his intellect—that he
-should occasionally grovel in platitudes of the most pitiable
-description. And this fact will go farther than any one hitherto
-adduced, to explain the character of a fatality which has so constantly
-attended genius as to have become a sure index of its existence:—we
-mean the fatality of alternate high eulogium and virulent invective. Few
-men are conversant with the _whole_ works of an author. Now, in the case
-of two critics of equal ability, it may happen (and we know it _does_
-frequently so happen) that the opinion of one may be based solely upon
-the author’s best efforts, while that of the other is deduced from some
-mere task-work labored out in hours of the most utter inappetency and
-exhaustion. The dissent of the latter (a dissent just if we regard only
-the means of judgment) will, of course, be extravagant in denunciation,
-precisely in the ratio of his astonishment and indignation at what he
-supposes the corrupt panegyric of the former.
-
-Therefore, it should not be a matter for surprise that these “Pic Nic
-Papers” are very great trash, although written by very clever men. Their
-general merit, in our opinion, is below that of the mere _make-weight_
-of our commonest newspapers and magazines. One or two of the articles
-are not _very_ bad:—Leigh Ritchie’s “Marcus Bell,” for example; a tale
-entitled “Aunt Honor;” and “The Lamplighter’s Story,” by Mr. Dickens.
-This last, however, is only tolerable through the manner in which it is
-told. There is not a single paper of _real_ value; and more consummate
-nonsense than the greater portion of the collection we never encountered
-in any respectable-looking book.
-
-We cannot conclude our notice without a protest against the title-page.
-To call this paltry publication the “Pic Nic Papers,” and affirm it to
-be _edited_ by Mr. Dickens—thus inducing ideas of the popular Pickwick,
-is a piece of chicanery which not even the end in view can sanction. No
-body of men are justified in making capital of the public’s gullibility
-for purposes of charity, public or private—for any purposes under the
-sun. We do not hesitate to state the present case _plainly_. The title
-affixed to this work has been designedly so affixed, that purchasers,
-hastily glancing at it, may suppose it a book upon the same plan as the
-“Pickwick Papers,” and _written_, as they were, by Mr. Dickens. No one
-who reflects an instant can suppose the intention to have been anything
-else. Now what is this but the worst species of _forgery_?
-
- * * * * *
-
- _History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the South of
- France, from the year 1807 to the year 1814. By_ W. F. Napier,
- C. B., Colonel, _&c. From the Fourth Edition. Complete in Four
- Volumes. With Numerous Engravings. Carey and Hart:
- Philadelphia._
-
-Colonel Napier’s “History of the Peninsula War” is a work whose general
-features are sufficiently well understood. In the thoroughness of its
-survey and in the minute and exact particularity of its details, if not
-in more important and comprehensive regards, it is equalled certainly by
-no other book on the subject discussed, and perhaps by few histories of
-any kind. The author’s extensive political acquaintance with the events
-agitating all Europe at the period investigated, and especially the part
-he bore in some of these events, with his obvious enthusiasm for
-military affairs, rendered him as fitting for the task which he has
-undertaken as any individual of his age. It may be said, indeed, and not
-altogether paradoxically, that he was somewhat _too_ well qualified for
-this task. The agitating incidents _quorum pars magna fuit_ have so
-forcibly impressed his imagination as to mislead his understanding in
-respect to the _relative_ importance of these incidents. He discourses
-of the “Peninsular Campaign” (pretty much, by the way, as all Englishmen
-discourse of it) as if _it alone_ were the proper subject of all human
-deliberation. No one will be willing to deny the interest which
-appertains to it, nor the magnitude of the results to which it led. We
-mean to say, however, that, except to Colonel Napier and the Duke of
-Wellington, it is not the only important topic in the universe.
-
-Hitherto the American reader of history has been able to procure this
-work only from our public libraries, and the enterprize of Messieurs
-Carey and Hart in placing it within reach, is worthy of all
-commendation. They must have been at unusual expense in this
-undertaking. The volumes are thick octavos, and are illustrated by no
-less than fifty-five lithographed plans, (which, by the way, are not
-very well executed.) At the same time these publishers can scarcely
-expect remuneration from a very extensive sale. By public institutions
-and military men the work will be valued and purchased. But beyond
-these, with few exceptions, the public will content itself with the
-means already in its power of referring to the history in our libraries.
-The gentlemen in question are, of course, the best judges of their own
-affairs; but it does seem to us that they have erred in permitting the
-_foreign_ value and reputation of the work to influence them in making
-an American reprint.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _Ten Thousand a Year. By the Author of The Diary of a London
- Physician. Carey and Hart: Philadelphia._
-
-There are several circumstances connected with this book which render it
-an important topic for the critic. We mean its unusual length—the
-previous reputation of its author—the peculiarity of its subject—the
-apparent under-current of _design_ which has been attributed to it—the
-wide difference of opinion existing in regard to its merit—and,
-especially, the fact of its being, if not precisely the first, yet
-certainly the chief of the class of _periodical_ novels—the peculiar
-advantages and disadvantages of which it will afford a good opportunity
-for discussing. We much regret, therefore, that we have left ourselves
-no room, in the present number of the Magazine, for an extended analysis
-of the work. This we may possibly undertake in December; contenting
-ourselves, in the meantime, with a few observations at random.
-
-It appears to us that a main source of the interest which this book
-possesses for the mass, is to be referred to the _pecuniary_ nature of
-its theme. From beginning to end it is an affair of pounds, shillings,
-and pence—a topic which comes home at least _as_ immediately to the
-bosoms and business of mankind, as any which could be selected. The same
-_character_ in the choice of subject was displayed by Doctor Warren in
-his “Passages from the Diary of a London Physician.” The _bodily health_
-is a point of absolutely universal interest, and was made the basis of
-all the excitement in that very popular but shamefully ill-written
-publication.
-
-“Ten Thousand a Year” is also “shamefully ill-written.” Its mere English
-is disgraceful to an L.L.D.—would be disgraceful to the simplest tyro
-in rhetoric. At every page we meet with sentences thus involved—“In
-order, however, to do this effectually I must go back to an earlier
-period in history than has yet been called to his attention. If it
-[_what?—attention?—history?_] shall have been unfortunate enough to
-attract the hasty eye of the superficial and impatient novel-reader, I
-make no doubt that by such a one certain portions of what has gone
-before, and which [_which what?_] could not fail of attracting the
-attention of long-headed people as being not thrown in for nothing (and
-therefore to be borne in mind with a view to subsequent explanation)
-have been entirely overlooked or forgotten.” The book is full too of the
-grossest misusages of language—the most offensive vulgarities of speech
-and violations of grammar. The whole _tone_ is in the last degree
-mawkish and inflated. What can be more ridiculous that the frequent
-apostrophising after this fashion—“My glorious Kate, how my heart goes
-forth towards you! And thou, her brother! who art of kindred spirit, who
-art supported by philosophy and exalted by religion, so that thy
-constancy cannot be shaken or overthrown by the black and ominous swell
-of trouble which is increasing around thee—I know that thou wilt
-outlive the storm—and yet it rocks thee! What indeed is to become of
-you all? Whither will you go? And your suffering mother, should she
-survive so long, is her precious form to be borne away from Yatton?” &c.
-&c.
-
-There is no attempt at plot—but some of the incidents are wofully ill
-adapted and improbable. The moralising, throughout, is tedious in the
-extreme. Two-thirds of the whole novel might have been omitted with
-advantage. The character of Aubrey is a ridiculous piece of overdone
-sentimentality—and in character generally the writer fails. One of the
-worst features of the whole is the transparent puerile attempt to throw
-ridicule upon the ministerial party by dubbing them with silly names,
-supposed to be indicative of peculiarities of person or character. While
-the oppositionists, for example, rejoice in the euphonious appellations
-of Aubrey, Delamere, and the like, their foes are called Quirk, Gammon,
-Snap, Bloodsuck, Rotgut, Silly-Punctilio, and other more stupid and
-beastly indecencies.
-
- * * * * *
-
-[Illustration: _Latest Fashions, November 1841. For Graham’s Magazine._]
-
- * * * * *
-
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-
-Table of Contents has been added for reader convenience. Archaic
-spellings and hyphenation have been retained. Obvious punctuation and
-typesetting errors have been corrected without note.
-
-[End of _Graham’s Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 5, November 1841_, George R.
-Graham, Editor]
-
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-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 5, November 1841, by Various</div>
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-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
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-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Graham's Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 5, November 1841</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Various</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: George R. Graham</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 30, 2021 [eBook #65198]</div>
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-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
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-<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net from page images generously made available by the Internet Archive (https://archive.org)</div>
-
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, VOL. XIX, NO. 5, NOVEMBER 1841 ***</div>
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0000' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;font-size:1.9em;font-weight:bold;'>GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>Vol. XIX.</span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;November, 1841. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No. 5.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.2em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>Contents</p>
-
-<table id='tab1' summary='' class='center'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' style='width: 25em;'/>
-<col span='1' style='width: 1em;'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col2 tdStyle0' colspan='2'><span class='bold'>Fiction, Literature and Articles</span></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#wall'>The Ghost of Chew’s Wall</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#rows'>The Rowsevillers.—No. II</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#reef'>The Reefer of ’76</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#int'>The Interesting Stranger</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#shak'>Shakspeare.—No. III</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#wicc'>Wiccónsat</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#moon'>The Moonlight Flitting</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#auto'>A Chapter on Autography</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#king'>The King’s Bride</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#ind'>Indian Traditions.—No. II</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#spo'>Sports and Pastimes.—The Fowling-Piece</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#rev'>Review of New Books</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<table id='tab2' summary='' class='center'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' style='width: 25em;'/>
-<col span='1' style='width: 1em;'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tab2c1-col2 tdStyle0' colspan='2'><span class='bold'>Poetry, Music and Fashion</span></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#pet'>The Pet Lamb</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#flig'>Flight of the Birds</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#sere'>Il Serenado di Venice</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#eph'>Ephemera</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#with'>With Thee</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#sonn'>Sonnets</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#nev'>I Never Have Been False to Thee</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#mer'>Merry England</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#mar'>Marriage</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#nevsh'>Never Shall My Heart Forget Thee!</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle2'><a href='#fash'>Latest Fashions, November 1841</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;'><a href='#notes'>Transcriber’s Notes</a> can be found at the end of this eBook.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk100'/>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i001.jpg' alt='A young lady sits under a tree and holds a lamb' id='iid-0001' style='width:75%;height:auto;'/>
-<p class='caption'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Eng. by H. S. Sadd, N.Y.</span><br/></p> <br/><span class='it'>The Pet Lamb</span><br/> <br/><span class='it'>Engraved expressly for Graham’s Magazine</span>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='pbk'/>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i002.jpg' alt='a watercolor painting of a tree on a hillside' id='iid-0002' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk101'/>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;font-size:1.9em;font-weight:bold;'>GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk102'/>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.1em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>Vol. XIX.</span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;PHILADELPHIA: NOVEMBER, 1841. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class='sc'>No. 5.</span></p>
-
-<hr class='tbk103'/>
-
-<div><h1 class='nobreak'><a id='pet'></a>THE PET LAMB.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY ALEXANDER A. IRVINE.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>I saw</span> her in her artlessness</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;All innocent and free,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And playfully a favored lamb</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She fondled on her knee—</p>
-<p class='line0'>She seemed a vision of a dream,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;A glory passing bright,</p>
-<p class='line0'>A being clothed in loveliness</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;As angels are in light!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Her tresses sported round about</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her snowy brow divine,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As flowers of the daffodil</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Embrace a virgin shrine,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Such purity was nestled there,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;A Sybil’s it might be,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Forever beaming placidly</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;As starlight down at sea!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Her smile it had a witchery</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To mortal ones unknown,</p>
-<p class='line0'>A language in its mirthfulness</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Beyond a seraph’s tone:</p>
-<p class='line0'>It was as if the soul had come</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;From out its deep recess</p>
-<p class='line0'>And chose a dwelling in her eyes,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;So pure their loveliness!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>And softly on her pearly cheek</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The dewy lashes lay;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her lips were parted temptingly</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To woo the breeze to stay;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her snowy neck all droopingly</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Defied the lily’s grace;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her dimpled mouth—I dreamt of heav’n</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In gazing on that face!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>She fondled artlessly her pet;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She raised his tiny feet;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And toyed the garland on his neck;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And soothed him, when he bleat,</p>
-<p class='line0'>So sweetly that I might not hear</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Unmoved that silver tone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>But longed to leave my hiding place</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And woo her for my own.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>A shot re-echoed through the wood,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;I saw the smoky wreath—</p>
-<p class='line0'>The lamb was bleeding in her lap</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The glancing ball beneath—</p>
-<p class='line0'>I sprang and raised the sufferer</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And staunched the ebbing tide,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And carefully I bound the wound,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And sat me by her side.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>I quieted her quick alarm,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;I gently soothed her fears,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And o’er the dying favorite</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;We mingled tears with tears:</p>
-<p class='line0'>I shared her grief, and calmed her woe,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And blamed the sportsman rude—</p>
-<p class='line0'>She raised her swimming eyes to mine</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And smiled her gratitude.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>She faintly smiled and dropped her gaze,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her passive hand I took,</p>
-<p class='line0'>No word was spoke, we only heard</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The murmur of the brook;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her gaze was on the murdered lamb,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her heart was strangely moved—</p>
-<p class='line0'>She sighed, and oh! the loss she felt,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The void where once she loved.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Again I soothed her maiden grief,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And sighed whene’er she sighed,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And with such winning sympathy</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her starting tears I dried,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>And when she ceased I sighed myself,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And she besought to know</p>
-<p class='line0'>All artlessly and innocent</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The secret of my woe.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>I told her it was all herself,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That I had paused to gaze,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And that her witching loveliness</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Would sadden all my days;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And then I sighed, and looked away,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And told her how I grieved,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Not for myself, but for the pang</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her gentle heart received.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>I asked her but to pity me,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And told my grief to part—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her fingers trembled, and I heard</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The beating of her heart,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And all dissolved in sympathy</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She yielded to my side—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Was ever virgin love as thine?</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;My Rosalie, my bride!</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk104'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='wall'></a>THE GHOST OF CHEW’S WALL;</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>A LEGEND OF GERMANTOWN.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY OLIVER OLDFELLOW.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> a man becomes so far lost to a sense of self-importance,
-as not only to tell, but actually to <span class='it'>write
-stories</span>,—thus recording his turpitude in black and
-white—it is not to be presumed that slight consequences
-will deter him from his purpose. Indeed,
-it is rather to be supposed that he has made up his
-mind to despise public opinion, and to brave all indignation.
-His hand is sure to follow as his pen may
-lead, and whatever he may <span class='it'>resolve</span>, when the story
-is written, it is, somehow or other, sure to find its
-way into print. The best motives of a writer may
-therefore be mistaken, or his strongest resolves puffed
-to the winds by a single breath, so that it may well
-be supposed in what a predicament we were, when
-we found our best intentions frustrated, and had to
-encounter the wrath and tobacco smoke of our German
-neighbors, and were obliged to write this apologetic
-introduction, and all through a villanous blunder
-of our greedy devil.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The facts are these. We sat down, a few evenings
-since, after enjoying a comfortable cup of pure Java,—which
-we still continue to enjoy, notwithstanding
-the anathemas of a fellow with a villanous name, of
-“bran bread” repute,—to commit to paper a few
-notes of a conversation which we had with a relative
-long since. Having unluckily fallen into a doze, our
-devil, who had been going about for more than an
-hour roaring for copy, took a peep into the sanctum,
-and, seeing how matters stood, slipt off the following
-article, “in the crack o’ a thumb,” by way of filling
-up an odd form, which, in an unlucky fit of liberality,
-we had resolved to squeeze into the present number.
-It may well be supposed that, before we had fairly
-rubbed our eyes open, the <span class='it'>matter</span> was blown to the
-world, and a whole avalanche of country cousins,
-who hail from Germantown, were down upon us. Of
-course we said at once that the article was not ours,
-as no man can be expected to acknowledge his guilt
-until it is proved upon him. This, however, did not
-satisfy them, although they professed to have no difficulty
-in believing it, for they continued to smoke
-their pipes with such fury, and swore so stoutly in
-real jaw-breaking Dutch—for every mother’s son is
-German, even to the cut of his pantaloons—that we
-were glad to get off upon the condition of making a
-handsome apology, which we think we have now
-fully done.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Among the many delightful villages in Pennsylvania,
-which owe their origin to German settlers, and
-maintain, amid surrounding improvements, the unchanged
-marks of ancestry, there is none more prominent
-than Germantown. It is but half an hour’s
-drive from Philadelphia, extending along the main
-road for more than two miles, with, for the most
-part, old-fashioned stone houses, which date prior to
-the revolution, sprinkled plenteously on both sides of
-the road, forming a village of most unconscionable
-length, but—like the pockets of most dandies of the
-present day—with no depth or body to support its
-extensive pretensions. It is famous in history, as
-being the ground of a battle during the struggle for
-independence, in which victory, though for a time
-doubtful, declared for the enemy, in consequence of
-the incompetency of an American officer. The present
-inhabitants are mostly the descendants of German
-families—true sprigs of the old branches, imitating
-most of the virtues of their forefathers, indulging
-in no luxuries, pursuing a rigid economy, and
-clinging with an unyielding regard to the money bequeathed
-them. Nor is this regard in any degree
-weakened by the devices of those who have recently
-settled in the village, and who vainly hope by improving
-their houses, fitting up their grounds, and
-clipping and beautifying their shrubbery, to induce
-an imitation of their example. The old-roof tree
-stands, as it stood half a century ago, and the very
-stones of the building, from between which the mortar
-has in many cases long since dropped, grin defiance
-on the passer by, who dares to harbor a thought
-of improvement or repair. The owner is content to
-<span class='it'>live</span> as his ancestors lived, but would like to <span class='it'>die</span> a
-little richer. The patrimony, amassed by the hand
-of unceasing toil, is religiously bequeathed from sire
-to son, together with the peculiar habits of thought
-and the superstitious sentiments of an age gone by.
-In many cases no education has been suffered to
-weaken or invade, and in others has been so slight as
-only to harmonize the mind with the general character
-of the place, which at best seems to belong
-more to a past generation than to the present. From
-these causes, things which better tutored minds scout
-with scorn, in the one case, are held as true as matters
-of religious belief, and in the other are only
-doubted, not disbelieved. In fact so thoroughly does
-superstition, and the gross follies which an intercourse
-with the world and education always dispel,
-prevail, that many of the inhabitants can tell you to
-a nicety when there will be a change of weather, by
-the belligerent attitude in which the moon turns up
-her horns when she grows restive, and that there will
-be company when the cat licks her paws, when a fork
-sticks up in the floor, or when the old cock brushes
-up his feathers and crows in the door-way. There
-are others who go still deeper into mysteries of this
-sort, and can predict to you a birth, a marriage, or a
-death, by the kinks in a cow’s tail; but as they are
-entirely beyond our depth, and seem to have this
-knowledge all to themselves, it may be well not to
-disturb them in their profound wisdom. Nevertheless,
-let no young man, who values the affections of
-any fair Dutch damsel in Germantown, venture to
-present her with a pair of scissors, unless he wishes
-to <span class='it'>cut</span> the sentimental cord that binds her to him.
-Thus much we feel in duty bound to record as a
-warning to young gentlemen, as many a man has lost
-the confidence and affections of his lady love in consequence
-of less matters than a pair of scissors.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It might be expected that a village so contiguous
-to a great city, would soon lose these distinctive
-marks of character, and that the extravagance, follies
-and vices of the metropolis would be generally
-imitated. Not so, however. With very little exception,
-the place is as entirely distinct as if it were
-miles in the interior. The moral mantle of Germanism
-seems to hang like a cloud over the place, and,
-blended with the superstition of the portion of inhabitants
-spoken of, there is a high-toned morality
-so imbedded in the hearts of the people, that honesty
-and a strict regard to truth, next to making money
-and keeping it, may be considered the great texts by
-which they live.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It will easily be understood that among a people
-thus constituted, a <span class='it'>ghost</span> has but to be <span class='it'>seen</span> by one of
-their number, and his appearance announced, to be
-generally dreaded. If he has been <span class='it'>seen</span>, there is an
-end of all doubting, and the only thing thereafter to
-be done, is to keep out of his way. There will be
-no use, in such a case, to multiply arguments about
-him, but every man must take care of himself. And,
-what may seem a little singular, a good sound-minded,
-rational apparition will, in all cases, most delight
-to visit a people who pay him so much deference;
-taking especial care to show himself off frequently,
-and in all manner of ways, that there may be no
-doubt that he does exist in one shape or another, and
-having established the matter to his own satisfaction,
-that it is better to range the upper world, where he
-can be <span class='it'>seen</span>, than to dwell below in the dark, damp
-ground of the tomb, where he cannot be seen, where
-his very existence may be doubted, and where, at the
-best, the quarters are most uncomfortably chilly,—we
-say a sane ghost, under such circumstances, would
-naturally grow familiar—or rather <span class='it'>attempt</span> to—and
-having sought out and established himself in comfortable
-quarters, and having enjoyed an oblivious
-nap during the day, would seek to regale himself in
-the evening, after his own will and pleasure, by little
-trips by moonlight, over the fields, around the old
-barns, and especially on the tops of the <span class='it'>stone fences</span>—if
-any there be—of the neighborhood. A ghost
-certainly has the right, if any <span class='it'>body</span> has, of doing
-pretty much as he pleases, and of keeping out of the
-dust and gravel of a country side-walk, and of cutting
-up his antics, by way of recreation, on the top
-of a stone wall. At least these were the sentiments
-entertained by the ghost in question, and he took the
-liberty—unlike most politicians—of acting them
-out without regard to consequences.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One morning, early in November, 18—, the inhabitants
-of the goodly village of Germantown were
-thrown into great consternation and dismay, by the
-important intelligence that a ghost had been seen
-the previous evening, perched upon Chew’s wall,
-dressed in white, and rattling a heavy chain, which
-some maintained he had been hung in, in consequence
-of some great crime. Some said that it was only a
-log-chain, which he intended to use, after his own
-fashion, on the first man he got in his clutches, while
-others, with a great show of reason, maintained that
-the chain was fastened around <span class='it'>his own ankle</span>, and
-that he was no less a <span class='it'>personage</span> than the ghost of the
-dead soldier who had deserted from the British
-during the revolution, and was accidentally shot
-during the battle of Germantown, while a prisoner
-in a baggage-wagon, <span class='it'>as had been said</span>, but who, it
-was very likely, had been murdered during the heat
-of the fray, by some enemy in his own ranks—a
-rival in love, perhaps, or an heir to some estate, who
-wished him out of the way. Be all this as it may,
-the ghost had been <span class='it'>seen</span> upon the wall, and he had a
-chain about him in some way, and some unheard of
-atrocity might confidently be looked for. The
-greatest mystery of the affair was that as soon as the
-rumor got on the wind, the man who had seen him
-was no where to be found, nor could any body tell
-who he was. Somebody <span class='it'>had</span> seen him, however, and
-that was enough, and any inhabitant of Germantown
-would as soon have doubted the existence of sour-krout—a
-belief of which substantial proof was given
-daily—as to have felt the least incredulity in regard
-to the ghost.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Of course all the inhabitants put on the gravest
-looks possible, and kept a sharp look-out, but still
-nearly a week passed and no tidings of a renewal of
-the visit of his ghostship occurred. Sunday morning
-came, and the matter was duly canvassed before the
-church door, prior to the arrival of the minister. A
-great many solemn shakes of the head and knowing
-winks were given on the subject. It was formally
-resolved that fires had better be kept burning in all
-the ovens for a fortnight, though it was pretty generally
-agreed that the ghost had been taken unawares,
-and that, whatever his business to that place might
-be, by keeping off the wall for a week, it was a pretty
-good sign that he did not want to show himself, and
-therefore he would be more cautious in future.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The ghost, notwithstanding all these sage conclusions,
-resolved to have his own way in the matter,
-and accordingly made his appearance <span class='it'>that very evening</span>—not
-in white, nor in the form of a man, but in
-<span class='it'>black</span>, and running on all fours, like a hyena, on the
-top of the wall, and even proceeded so far as to
-throttle a very inoffensive person, and one who never
-could have had any thing to do with the murder—if
-indeed the apparition was the ghost of the murdered
-soldier. The facts of this encounter are these.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Christopher Burger (such was the name of the person
-throttled) or “<span class='it'>Stoffel</span> Burger,” as his German
-friends delighted to dub him in abbreviation, was a
-stout, square-built young fellow, of about twenty-two,
-who could do his day’s work, and dance the whole
-night through in the bargain, without thinking of
-fatigue. He had fallen in love, at a quilting party,
-with Miss Susan Hanz, a blooming Dutch damsel of
-seventeen summers; and, like a straight-forward
-business-like German, as he was, he resolved to
-make her his wife. She was, in fact, just the girl to
-inspire Christopher with the sentimental. Short,
-thick, and as elegantly shaped as a churn, with a
-full, round, saucy face, lighted up with a pair of
-brilliant black eyes, and with a foot, which, if it was
-<span class='it'>not</span> one of the smallest, could go through “a straight
-four,” or, for that matter, if occasion required it, a
-regular “hoe down,” with a grace that actually made
-Christopher’s heart leap, as if it was going to jump
-out of his mouth. Nor were these her only claims to
-regard. The fair Susan was an only child, and her
-father had the reputation of possessing more than
-one stocking full of <span class='it'>the real currency</span>, carefully
-stowed away in the large walnut chest under the bed.
-Two or three broad farms also claimed ’Squire Hanz
-as owner, and spread themselves out very temptingly
-before the eager eyes of “Stoffel.” And then, what
-a hand at baking hot cakes!—his mouth actually
-watered at the thought. Added to all this, he well
-knew that if he succeeded in winning the heart of the
-fair Susan, no obstacle would be placed in the way
-of his happiness by the ’Squire. In this matter the
-’Squire was exceedingly liberal; he imposed but one
-condition upon his daughter in relation to the man of
-her choice, and that was, that “he must be of a good
-German family.” To “<span class='it'>Stoffel</span>” there could be no
-objection on this score. His very name carried the
-recommendation with it. Moreover, the ’Squire had
-never had brother or sister, and therefore there were
-no rascally cousins to be mining the fortress in his
-absence. Had there been any, with stout purses in
-their fists, the matter would not have been quite so
-positive; for, as an <span class='it'>arrangement of convenience</span>, and
-to <span class='it'>keep the money</span> from the hands of <span class='it'>grasping strangers</span>,
-every man in the village of which we write
-made it a point to marry his cousin—<span class='it'>if he could
-get her</span>—and, if the truth must be told, the strong
-voice of parental command was seldom wanting to
-strengthen his suit.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Let it not be supposed, however, that a lady with
-such substantial claims had never been besieged with
-lovers. Such <span class='it'>had been</span> the case. But “Stoffel”
-having so far outstripped his rivals as to attain the
-honor of <span class='it'>smoking a pipe alone</span> with the ’Squire a few
-Sunday evenings previous to the time of which we
-write, the business was looked on as settled, and the
-whole bevy of Dutch beaux were off in the twinkling
-of an eye, like a flock of partridges when they have
-been shot at.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Christopher, thus having “a fair field and <span class='it'>all</span> the
-favor,” was not the man to neglect the advantage;
-so that, on the Sunday night in question, if an inquisitive
-eye had been placed at the key-hole of the
-’Squire’s parlor door, he might have been <span class='it'>seen</span>, or
-<span class='it'>heard</span>, actually (we hope the ladies will skip this
-passage)—we say he might have been <span class='it'>seen</span> kissing
-Susan <span class='it'>in the dark</span>. Atrocious as this conduct was,
-however, on the part of “Stoffel,” we are bound, in
-recording a true narrative, to say that the lady was
-not to be frightened at trifles; so, instead of screaming
-out, and thus rousing the ’Squire and his blunderbuss,
-she took the matter coolly, and, resolving not
-to be outdone in civilities, gave him as good as he
-sent, and, throwing her arms around his neck, <span class='it'>kissed
-him</span>!! These, of course, are little attentions, on the
-part of lovers, which should not be wantonly, and
-without purpose, revealed to “the cold and heartless
-world,” and we only mention them to show that
-Christopher was a fellow with a pretty stout heart,
-and thus prepare our readers for the horrible outrage
-upon a brave man we are about to record. And considering,
-too, that all our lady readers have skipped
-the last passage, and are waiting breathlessly, we
-proceed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was now past twelve o’clock—we are ashamed
-to record it—for Christopher, whatever wrong he
-committed in <span class='it'>going</span> to the ’Squire’s every Sunday
-evening, when he <span class='it'>returned</span>, his conscience, on that
-score, was generally clear enough, as it was Sabbath
-no longer. We say it was past twelve, and Christopher
-set out for home. He had feasted on the best
-the ’Squire’s cellar afforded, and had made way with
-more than one mug of his best cider. The parting
-scene, on the part of Christopher, had been unusually
-tender. He was naturally an ardent lover, and the
-cider by no means decreased the strength of his attachment.
-He had used every argument to bring
-Susan to the point of acceptance—still she was coy.
-Yet Christopher was a man of discernment, and
-thought that a lady who would throw her arms around
-his neck and kiss him in the dark, (bless us! what
-will the ladies say to this?) could have no serious
-objection to him at bottom, and so, on the whole, he
-was in a very pleasant mood with himself, and with
-all <span class='it'>mankind</span> and <span class='it'>womankind</span> in the bargain, as gentlemen
-usually are when the lady has been kind, and
-the parting kiss has been freely given. He felt unusually
-<span class='it'>happy</span>, and could not restrain the kind feelings
-which bubbled up to his very lips and found vent
-in snatches of songs. He was rapidly approaching
-the wall—still he thought nothing of ghosts or hob-goblins,
-but was ruminating very intently upon the
-charms of the <span class='it'>substantial</span> little Dutch beauty, and
-was going over in his mind, very pleasantly, her
-qualifications to make him a happy man. He might
-be said to be in that state, when a man is walking
-yet dreaming. He was picturing a neat stone house,
-with every <span class='it'>useful</span> article of furniture bought and
-paid for, and with a horse and cow that he could call
-his own. Milk punch, too, naturally enough popped
-into his head, and then out again, to make room for
-thoughts of hot cakes swimming in butter. His song,
-however, still went on, as the music was not so difficult
-of execution as to require much thought in its
-performance—when the conclusion of a stanza
-seemed suddenly to have been frozen on his lips, and
-he started back with the ejaculation—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mine Got! vat ish dat? der spooke—der divel!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The cause of his alarm the reader will understand,
-and so did “Stoffel.” He had heard it rumored that
-a ghost in white had been seen airing himself upon
-Chew’s wall, and he was not the man to scoff at
-rumor, and, even if he had been, there was the identical
-thing before him, slightly changed in appearance,
-it is true, not in white, nor sitting erect, but in
-black, running along the wall towards him, like a
-hyena or a bear; and, sure enough, as if to establish
-his character beyond the possibility of a
-doubt, <span class='it'>rattling his chain</span> with a clangor truly appalling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In any other situation Christopher, perhaps, would
-have run, but in the present instance his limbs refused
-to do their work, his knees knocked together,
-his teeth set to chattering, and he seemed rooted to
-the spot. Nor can it be supposed that he was a
-coward, as we think the contrary has been clearly
-demonstrated in his valiant exploits in courting. The
-ghost, however, as if to settle the difficulty, to clear
-all doubt in the mind of Christopher, and to prevent
-any more profane exclamations, coolly descended
-from the wall, and before he knew where he was,
-knocked him down “with one blow of his <span class='it'>tail</span>,” as
-was afterwards affirmed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So,” said the ghost, “your time has come to
-die!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mine Got, nay—I be’s—so young—and pin—tink—to
-git—marry,” chattered the horror-stricken
-Dutchman.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are going to get married; ha! who do you
-think will have you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ’Squire—Hanz—Sus, me tinks.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When you marry her you will be a dead man,” said
-the ghost in a hollow, sepulchral voice, “and unless
-you stay away from ’Squire Hanz’s two months from
-this time, remember I have warned you! you are a
-dead man! Beware!” and having released his throat
-from a loving squeeze, vanished, as Christopher asserted,
-“in de ground.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When he arose, his brain whirled, and his memory
-was confused; the sun was just peeping over the
-hills, and a group of astonished neighbours were
-around him. Christopher told his story, and related
-the adventure exactly as it had occurred, excepting
-what related to Susan, that he kept close in his own
-bosom—why? we cannot say. Some believed him,
-but others, of the most knowing, shook their heads—guessed
-he had drank too freely of the ’Squire’s
-cider, and wondered how he knew “the ghost vanished
-in the ground when he was lying on his face in the
-dirt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Christopher asserted, and swore Dutch to substantiate
-it, that he “had been <span class='it'>choked on the back of his
-neck</span> until he saw stars,” and that after <span class='it'>that</span> the ghost
-disappeared, and he knew nothing more of the matter
-until he found the mob around him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This was conclusive! And as the contagion spread,
-it was ascertained that the ghost had been exceedingly
-obliging, and had appeared in a variety of forms and
-costumes “to suit customers.” A stout troop of
-good wives roundly asserted that he had crossed the
-road in the form of a white calf, as they were proceeding
-to meeting, and that when they screamed out
-he disappeared. One had seen him in the habit of
-an old woman, dangling a great bunch of keys at her
-girdle, but it was plain he was no old woman at all
-from the whisker on one side of his face, which proved
-him to be the dead soldier. Moreover, he kept
-rattling the keys with tremendous fury, and held up
-his forefinger significantly; as much as to say “if
-you disturb me I’ll knock you down.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Another averred that as she was walking along,
-she heard a terrible flapping of wings, and looking up
-she saw, what at first appeared to be a flock of wild-geese,
-but they quickly changed into boys, and in an
-instant all vanished but one, and he was a man with
-a long white flowing robe, with which he took good
-care to cover his head, so that she could not see
-whether he had whiskers or no, and therefore could
-not say whether it was the dead soldier or not. In
-short, nearly all the <span class='it'>old</span> women had seen him, or had
-a ghost story to <span class='it'>tell</span>, which answered the same purpose,
-so that the good Dutchmen shook their heads
-to no purpose, for the more they shook them the more
-confused they became.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The consequence was, that after the existence of
-the ghost was thus substantiated, he resolved to confirm
-the testimony by taking up his quarters for the
-winter at once. This he did by establishing himself
-in a neat two story brick house, which was formerly
-located at the place now called “The Seven Oaks.”
-Thus having made himself perfectly at home, and
-we presume feeling himself so, for no body pretended
-to disturb him in his selected quarters, he took his
-recreations in various ways. Sometimes he would
-appear with a winding sheet around him, and a flame
-of fire coming out of his mouth, then he would walk
-inhabited like a bear, or he might be seen in the form
-of a dragon with a huge tail. To vary the entertainments,
-he would appear with horrible horns on his
-head, and a tail like a fish, and would go sweeping
-over the ground as if he were gliding in water. He
-appeared, too, at various places, though his favorite
-resort was the top of the stone wall, which he would
-often bestride, as if it were a full-blooded charger,
-and would go whistling down the wind,—stone wall
-and all. What rendered this last feat the more surprising
-was, that when morning came the wall looked
-as unmoved as if nothing had happened, but the ghost
-was nowhere to be found.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It could not be supposed that things should continue
-in this state forever. Accordingly a number of the
-more aged inhabitants having put their heads together,
-it was thought advisable to devise some energetic
-measures to relieve themselves of his ghostship.
-Whereupon every man stuck his pipe in his mouth,
-and set to smoking and thinking with great energy
-and decision. After due reflection, various measures
-were proposed, but none so feasible as that proposed
-by ’Squire Hany, who having a pipe about a foot longer
-than any of the others, came to the sagest conclusion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His proposal was in substance, that a meeting be
-called on the next evening, and that a committee
-should be appointed to watch the ghost, and if possible,
-to shoot through him with silver bullets; when,
-it was affirmed, he would dissolve into thin air at
-once. And lest the ghost should be aroused to commit
-some deed of dire interest, as soon as the news of
-these hostile proceedings reached his ears, it was
-thought advisable that all the inhabitants should
-close their doors at sundown, nail horse shoes over
-them, and, to save candles if not their necks, they
-should go to bed at dark.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A large meeting of the indignant inhabitants, in
-accordance with this decision, assembled at “The
-Green Tree,” when, after calling “Stoffel Burger”
-to the chair, the following resolutions, which had
-been drawn up with great care and precision for the
-occasion, were unanimously adopted:—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><a id='r1'/><a href='#f1' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[1]</span></sup></a>“<span class='it'>Resolved</span>, That a committee of eight be appointed
-<span class='it'>to shoot the ghost</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Resolved</span>, That Stoffel Burger be chairman of the
-committee to point him out, so that the silver bullets
-be not thrown away, and also, to save powder, that
-<span class='it'>nobody shall shoot the ghost till they see him</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>To the first branch of this resolution Stoffel felt
-inclined to demur, and said that as he had already
-been choked by the ghost, he would rather not get
-in his clutches again. The meeting, however, had
-made up their minds—as most town meetings generally
-do—before hand, and would hear of no excuse.
-It was therefore further</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Resolved</span>, That the meeting defray the expenses
-of the committee, provided they follow instructions,
-and that all the inhabitants be commanded to nail
-horse shoes over their doors, so that the ghost may
-be shot down without mercy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We said the resolutions were unanimously adopted,
-but there was one young gentleman who, in the outset,
-stoutly opposed them, but who, nevertheless, afterwards
-gave them his hearty support. He was a good
-looking fellow, about five feet ten in height, with a
-piercing black eye, a most intelligent face, and a
-whisker trimmed with such exquisite taste that every
-girl of the village would take a peep out of the corner
-of her eye and admire them while passing. His
-tongue, too, was as slippery as an eel, and he could
-say the softest and most honied words in a way that
-actually put the stout Dutch phrases completely out
-of tune. Nevertheless, he spoke German like a book,
-and no man could exceed him in driving a bargain,
-so that, having come from a German settlement in the
-east, he went by the name of “The Dutch Yankee.”
-He never obtruded his advice in any case, and only
-suggested in this, “whether these hostile proceedings
-might not inflame the anger of the ghost, and lead to
-hot work.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The valor of the meeting, however, was too highly
-inflamed to listen for a moment to prudential hints,
-when they had the iron argument of horse shoes
-ready in case of danger, so that after selecting the
-committee and charging them to “be true to their
-country in this sudden and trying emergency, and to
-meet promptly the next evening and perform their
-duty,” the meeting adjourned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the following evening the committee accordingly
-met at “The Green Tree,” armed to the teeth,
-each man having, in addition to his musket charged
-with the fatal bullet, a long butcher knife to be ready
-for extremities. The host of “The Green Tree”
-was in excellent spirits, and the committee resolved
-at once to be so too if it could be done by dint of good
-liquor. So in order to be prepared for the fierce encounter,
-and to strengthen his nerves, each man
-knocked off his half-pint at the outset. And as the
-generous inhabitants had agreed to pay expenses,
-there could be no harm, so thought both the committee
-and the host, in drinking another, and as each
-felt braver the more he drank, the experiment was
-repeated in homœopathic doses until the hour of
-twelve, when, we will venture to assert, a stouter
-hearted set of men never set out on a perilous expedition.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is strange, however, how soon the cold wind of a
-winter night will unstring the nerves and set the teeth
-to chattering, for no sooner were the valiant committee
-within sight of Chew’s wall, and had been a
-little chilled through with the night breeze, than
-each man was seized with a tremendous shivering
-of cold, and each feeling weaker than the other, it
-was with great difficulty that they could get on, for
-want of a leader. It was stoutly maintained that
-“Stoffel” should go before, as he was commissioned
-by the meeting to point out the ghost. To this Stoffel
-agreed, but maintained that he could not show
-him to the committee, unless they were with him. It
-was finally settled that no man should have the <span class='it'>honor
-of going alone</span>, but that they should all march up
-abreast, and at the signal given fire a platoon into
-him. So they set up at once a terrible yelling, in order
-that the ghost might see that they were in earnest
-and prepare for the consequences.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Whether it was that the ghost heartily despised
-their bullying mode of procedure, and determined to
-show that there was no flinching on his part, by meeting
-them more than half way, or that the heads of
-the committee were rather giddy with having been
-confined in the close air of a bar-room for so many
-hours, and had thus caused them to miscalculate
-distances; certain it was, that before they were aware
-of their position, Stoffel espied the ghost and pointed
-him out at not more than thirty yards distance. Every
-man instantly cocked his musket, and affirmed that it
-was <span class='it'>moving</span>, and that owing to the dreadful proximity
-of the ghost, every thing else was dancing around
-them. Accordingly they instantly poured a dreadful
-volley into the offender and took to their heels.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Whether the ghost was hit or not, it was clearly
-ascertained the next morning that the committee had
-succeeded in putting two silver balls into a great,
-ugly old post, which had long been a serious annoyance,
-and had split the rails of a contiguous fence
-most shockingly. There were not wanting those who
-were severe and uncharitable enough to say that the
-committee had got a little drunk, and had fired <span class='it'>at</span> the
-post. This, however, was deemed a gross slander,
-and it was unanimously agreed that if the ghost had
-stood where the post was, he would have had a ball
-through him to a certainty.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As for “Stoffel,” having done this daring deed,
-nobody caught him passing the wall for some weeks
-after, and he gave people pretty clearly to understand
-that he did not intend to for some weeks to come.
-What tended to confirm the inhabitants in the opinion
-that the vigilant committee had extirpated the dreaded
-visitant, and that there was nothing like silver bullets
-and horse shoes to quiet ghosts, whether in doors or out
-was, he did not appear on the wall—when, unluckily
-for our friend “Stoffel” and his milk punch and hot
-cakes, “The Dutch Yankee,” who possessed the true
-blood, succeeded in winning the heart of the fair
-Susan, and actually eloped with the bouncing little
-Dutch beauty, much to the amazement of the ’Squire,
-and the horror of the astounded “Stoffel,” and actually
-carried the enormity so far, as to write “Stoffel”
-an invitation to the “home-bringing,” a month
-or so afterward; coupling the request with a promise
-that the ghost should not be allowed to disturb him
-either in passing or repassing Chew’s wall without
-due revenge. “Stoffel” did not like the tone of the
-invitation, or considered that his valor in courting
-and shooting ghosts was established, so he declined.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That the ghost still held his quarters privately
-somewhere in the neighborhood, and enjoyed many
-a pleasant little trip by moonlight for his own private
-gratification after that, was not doubted by the good
-people of the village, although he only condescended
-to show himself to particular favorites, by <span class='it'>occasional
-glimpses</span> when passing the wall. Lately, however,
-he has been more chary of his visits, and it is supposed
-that the rail road rather interfered with his
-calculations, and that the eternal whizzing of steam
-and the ringing of bells, rendered his quarters uncomfortable—particularly
-since his house has rudely
-been pulled down over his head, and a new one erected
-on the same site, without regard to his convenience.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There were not wanting people who pretended to
-laugh at the whole affair after the elopement and
-marriage of the fair Susan, and it was maintained
-that the Yankee was often seen to twist his face and
-laugh to himself, when he was ploughing up the old
-’Squire’s ground. Yet nobody in Germantown, <span class='it'>who
-had heard the clanking of the chain</span>, ever ventured to
-doubt the existence of the ghost, and if any of our
-readers are inclined to disbelieve the story, the horse
-shoes can yet be seen nailed over some of the doors,
-and the bullet <span class='it'>holes</span> can yet be shown in the posts by
-the road side,—some of the inhabitants having dug
-the bullets out with the characteristic reflection,
-“that it was a pity that good silver should be thrown
-away, <span class='it'>even after ghosts</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:3em;margin-top:0.5em;'>G.</p>
-
-<hr class='footnotemark'/>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_1'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f1'><a href='#r1'>[1]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Note.</span> This, of course, all occurred before the Germantown
-Telegraph was started, or we should refer to the files
-of that valuable paper for a full report of the proceedings,
-and thus save ourselves a vast deal of trouble in copying a
-vile, old, dusty, Dutch manuscript.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk105'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='flig'></a>FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY MRS. E. C. STEDMAN.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>Speed</span> on! speed on, to your Southern home,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Ye who ’mid the fleecy clouds may roam!</p>
-<p class='line0'>The hoarse voice of Winter comes fast on the breeze—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Its roaring is heard in the tops of the trees,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And swift as your flight, is the march of Time—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Away, away, to a milder clime!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Ye’re wearied with seeking in vain for food,</p>
-<p class='line0'>’Mid the leafless boughs of your native wood;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And here will ye carol your songs no more,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Till the reign of the winter-king is o’er;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Till Spring, in new beauty, comes dancing on,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And ascends flower-crowned to her vernal throne.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>But your voices shall gladden the fairy bowers</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of the genial South, through these winter hours,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where your golden wings may unfettered rove</p>
-<p class='line0'>Through the flowery dell, and the orange grove;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Or bathe in the spray of those crystal streams,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Which forever glide free in the sun’s glad beams.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Then away! ere hastens cold winter’s night;</p>
-<p class='line0'>He who watcheth the sparrow, directs your flight:</p>
-<p class='line0'>We envy your freedom, ye songsters fair!</p>
-<p class='line0'>And fain would fly, too, from this piercing air;</p>
-<p class='line0'>But the Power divine, which doth bid you roam,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Binds us, and our joys, to a Northern home.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>But, thanks to that Power! from the frosts of Grief—</p>
-<p class='line0'>From the Winter that blighteth Affection’s leaf;</p>
-<p class='line0'>From the chilling blast of Misfortune’s breath,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The ransomed <span class='it'>spirit</span> may flee at death,</p>
-<p class='line0'>To a clime where perpetual Summer reigns</p>
-<p class='line0'>O’er the fadeless flowers of celestial plains.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk106'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='rows'></a>THE ROWSEVILLERS.—No. II.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>THE CAPTAIN’S COURTSHIP.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> cloth had just been removed, at my second
-dinner with the club, when the President called on a
-Mr. Rowley for a story. He tossed off a tumbler of
-Port—to clear the cobwebs, as he said, from his
-throat—and began.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You all know I am a lawyer, and that men who
-would be witty have a way of quizzing our profession
-by saying that we cannot tell a story without dragging
-in our craft. I have no objection to the notion
-of these smart gentlemen, and shall not even trouble
-myself to refute them, but go on with my story.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When I was a student, just after the close of the
-late war, I used to pay occasional visits to Mount
-Holly, which was even then a passable county
-town, and remarkable for its pretty girls, its gay
-winters, and the quantity of wine drunk by its bar.
-There wasn’t a lawyer in the place who couldn’t carry
-his two bottles, and as for wit, these barristers were
-famed for it from Cape May to Hackensack. But
-it is not so much with the Mount Holly bar as with
-Captain Slashbey, one of the clients of the wittiest
-member there, that my story has to do.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I first met the gallant captain on a hunting excursion
-into the pines. He was a portly little gentleman,
-with a rubicund face, a constant flow of humor,
-and an opinion of his own good looks rather singular,
-I must say, at forty-five. He had very short legs
-and a very round person, and altogether reminded
-you of a fat pigeon walking upright. He had been
-in the service during the war, and at the reduction of
-the army, finding himself pretty well in debt, and
-without a <span class='it'>sous</span> in his pockets, had settled at Squankum,
-a place in the very heart of the cedar swamps.
-And very convenient it was for Slashbey, for, like
-Galway, in Ireland, a sheriff’s writ hadn’t been seen
-there in the memory of man. It was once attempted
-to execute a capias there, but the forgemen and
-squatters rose in a mass, and though the light horse
-were ordered out, the arrest had to be given up.
-Now the captain was a popular man in Squankum,
-and therefore was as safe as in a sanctuary. He
-thirsted now and then, it is true, for the good things
-of civilized life afar off, and would often make a dash
-into Mount Holly, like a guerilla, taking care, however,
-to retreat before his creditors had wind of his
-approach. But at length he grew tired of this life,—I’ll
-thank you for the bottle—and determined to
-extricate himself from it by marrying an heiress;
-for the captain was a gallant man, you must know,
-and, like Will Honeycombe, had a high notion of
-his own powers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There was a merry little vixen at the county
-town—a gay witty black-eyed rogue as ever lived—who
-was, in the captain’s opinion, the very pattern
-for a wife. She would have made an anchorite forswear
-his creed, and was besides an heiress to a very
-pretty fortune. Undaunted by the crowds of suitors
-for her hand, Slashbey determined to enter the lists,
-nothing doubting, on the faith of certain smiles with
-which she always welcomed him, that he would carry
-off the prize. He began his preparations like a Napoleon.
-He bought a new pair of buff cassimeres,
-endued a shining blue coat with metal buttons, and
-ordered a wig from the most fashionable <span class='it'>perruquier</span>
-in Philadelphia, for unluckily the captain was as bald
-as a cannon ball. Thus accoutred, he laid regular
-siege to his charmer, dancing her and sleighing her
-whenever he could venture out of his cedar swamps
-without being chased by a bailiff. The heiress
-smiled on the captain, her suitors cursed the lucky
-rival, and Slashbey spent his time betwixt studying
-his glass and singing ‘none but the brave deserve
-the fair.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was just when he thought he was on the point
-of success that a grand ball was given at ——, and
-the captain, determining to carry his charmer by assault,
-forgot his usual prudence and escorted the
-heiress in his gig. Never did the little fellow look
-more gallant. I was at the ball, and faith! could
-scarcely keep my eyes off him. His wig was curled
-irresistibly, his new coat shone with resplendent lustre,
-his cassimeres fit him as a mould does a bullet,
-and he sported his new buff gloves with more vanity
-than a rider does his colors at a race. But, alas!
-his glory was destined soon to wane. One of his
-rivals, whose nose the captain had valorously pulled,
-determining on revenge, had informed the sheriff of
-Slashbey’s whereabouts, and just as he was leading
-his charmer triumphantly to the dance, the myrmidons
-of justice pounced on him, and after a desperate
-struggle he was secured, on the charge of an assault
-and battery. But this was not the worst. Before
-the court opened the next day, a dozen writs in civil
-suits had been lodged against his body. The captain
-was beside himself. He trembled at the <span class='it'>exposé</span> of
-his affairs—he trembled for his heiress.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘We could laugh this battery out of court,’ he
-said; ‘but what the devil can I do with these creditors?
-I’m a ruined man. And to come just now, the
-infernal rascals! Oh, Anna Matilda!’ he exclaimed
-with a love-lorn look of his crow-feet eyes, ‘it’s all
-up with you and your fortune now. What would the
-fellows of the tenth say if they heard of it?’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Cheer up,’ said his attorney laughingly; ‘your
-case will come up among the first, and we may yet
-find a way to get you off. It’s all the result of envy.
-These young boys can’t endure that Mars and Apollo
-should meet together in your person,’ and the barrister
-winked wickedly to me, as Slashbey, marshalled
-by the sheriff, preceded us into the hall of justice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It was with a rueful countenance that he took his
-seat in the court. The room was densely filled with
-the usual motley assemblage at a county sessions.
-Loafers half in rags, and shopmen in the latest cut,
-portly farmers with huge mud-stained boots, and drovers
-carrying heavy loaded whips, here a sober Quaker
-with a broad-rimmed beaver, and there a gay
-young lawyer with more wit than briefs, long men
-and short men, fat ones and lean ones, some with
-merry round faces, and others with countenances as
-sour as crab-apples, officers and loungers, attorneys
-and clients, filled up every vacant space outside the
-bar, whiling away the time until the appearance of
-the judge, by speculating on the prospects of a crop,
-or discussing the points of a case set down for trial
-at the term. At length his honor made his appearance,
-and, bustling and bowing through the crowd,
-assumed the bench, wiped the perspiration from his
-rubicund face, coughed with judicial gravity, and ordered
-the crier to open the court. That high functionary
-accordingly started to his feet, and in a nasal
-twang mumbled over a formula which no one could
-hear distinctly, but which appeared to be a recapitulation
-of the iniquities of those in authority generally,
-and of his honor in particular, as it ended with
-a hope that God would save the commonwealth and
-the honorable court. After the crier sat down, a
-very lean man, with a very sharp nose, and a very
-squeaking voice, called out ‘John Smith,’ whereupon
-a little fat man jumped up and said ‘here;’ but the
-clerk, without seeming to notice him, went on and
-called Joseph Thomson, Zerubabel Thomson, Joab
-Johnson, and the Lord knows how many more Thomsons
-and Johnsons, all of whom severally jumped up
-and said ‘here.’ Then, the jury being empannelled,
-the case came on, and the attorneys got into towering
-passions, and seemed as if they could have eaten
-each other up, while the jury smiled and nodded, and
-their foreman—the little fat man—stroked his chin
-and looked extremely wise. After this was gone
-through with, there was a general buzz through the
-room, when suddenly the judge cried ‘order,’ and
-then the sheriff cried ‘order,’ and the sleepy constables
-and tipstaves opened their eyes and echoed
-‘order’ more lustily than either; whereupon his
-honor turned over one or two big books bound in
-white calf,—ah! this is prime Port—consulted his
-notes for a moment, and then proceeded to sum up
-the evidence and charge the jury.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The next case was that of Slashbey—and the
-same formality was gone through with until about
-half of the jury had been sworn, when the attorney-general
-rose to acquaint the court that the panel
-was exhausted and that therefore he prayed a <span class='it'>tales</span>
-from the lookers on. These few and simple words of
-the attorney-general acted on the spectators like
-the upsetting of a crowded bee-hive. Instantly
-there was a great rush towards the door. Drovers
-and farmers, shopmen and gentlemen, staid Quakers
-and burly topers, all started in the race at once,
-tumbling and scrambling over each other in their
-haste to reach the entrance, while the tipstaves
-shouted ‘order’ until they were hoarse, and the
-sheriff and his deputies sprang to the door in order
-to close it before the egress of their prey. It was a
-moment of general confusion, and Slashbey was forgotten
-in the <span class='it'>mêlée</span>. Even the judge had eyes only
-for the scrambling fugitives.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Now,’ said I, nudging Slashbey, who sat by me
-not far from the casement; ‘now’s your time—clear
-the window at a leap—my horse Thunderer is fastened
-not twenty yards off—ride like the devil, and
-don’t draw rein till you get to Squankum.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Slashbey understood my plan as readily and
-rapidly as I had conceived it, and, just waiting to see
-that the coast was clear, he placed his hands on the
-sill, and, portly as he was, shot through the open
-window like a bomb, unseen by all except his honor,
-who caught sight of the fugitive’s coat tails as they
-disappeared outside.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘An escape!’ shouted the judge, starting to his
-feet; ‘sheriff, your prisoner. The captain’s off.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“On the instant the talesmen were forgotten, and
-sheriff, deputies, tipstaves and freeholders turned
-around, with open mouths and curious eyes. It was
-a minute or more before the matter could be explained,
-and by that time I saw that Slashbey had got
-mounted. I shouted ‘stop thief’ at this, and sprang
-out of the window, as if in pursuit, followed by the
-sheriff and his constables, tumbling helter-skelter
-over each other after me. The officers no sooner
-caught sight of the fugitive than they roared lustily
-to stop him, while the sheriff bawled for the ‘<span class='it'>posse
-comitatus</span>’ like a bull of Bashan. It was no time to
-respect property, so I followed the example of the
-officers, and sprang on the first steed I came across,
-eager to see the fun.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The court house stood nearly at the opposite end
-of the village, from that out of which led the road to
-Squankum, and when I mounted my horse, Slashbey
-was scouring down the main street some hundred
-yards ahead. Before a minute, however, the sheriff
-and his pack were in full cry at the fugitive’s heels,
-while as many of the spectators as could find horses
-and vehicles started off, a few to aid the law, but
-most to enjoy the sport. And, by my faith! what
-a sight it was! Foremost in the chase gallopped the
-sheriff, his hat off and his queue flying behind, bawling
-himself red in the face by cries of ‘stop thief,’ ‘head
-him off,’ ‘maintain the laws,’ amid the laughter of
-some and the shouts of others of the crowd. At
-every few leaps Slashbey would turn his face ruefully
-around to see whether his pursuers gained on him or
-not—reminding one of Tam O’Shanter, of blissful
-memory, when he saw the witches yelling after him.
-The captain would never have won the prize at Astley’s
-for horsemanship, and now, what betwixt his
-hurry and affright, he rode like a frightened monkey
-at a circus. Gilpin did not create more excitement
-in his famous race. The shopmen left their counters,
-the blacksmith hurried from his forge, the school
-children followed the pedagogue to the window, and
-the very chanticleers, unwilling to let the hubbub go
-by without they partook in it, flapped their wings on
-the garden fences and crowed lustily. But with your
-leave, I’ll pause to fill my glass, for a man telling a
-story is like a steam-engine—he can’t get on without
-he keeps the fire blazing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The race was now at its height. The uproar
-was tremendous. Up flew the windows, and out
-popped the heads. The women shrieked, the pigs
-squealed, the men laughed, the boys cheered, and a
-dozen curs hurried yelping and snapping at Thunderer’s
-heels, who, alarmed at the hue and cry
-around him, pricked up his ears, snorted, and fairly
-taking the bit in his teeth, went off at a frantic pace.
-You would have died with laughter had you seen
-Slashbey then. Holding on to the rein with one hand,
-he grasped the mane desperately with the other, and,
-sticking his feet up to the heels in the stirrup, he
-leaned forward until he lay almost prostrate on the
-horse’s neck, while the tails of his coat flying up
-behind disclosed the fair rotundity beneath, over
-which his shining new buff cassimeres were stretched
-as tight as a drum-head. At every leap he bounced
-three feet from the saddle. The shouts of the <span class='it'>posse</span>
-in his rear increased, while the captain’s rueful looks
-behind became more frequent. Some cried ‘murder,’
-others bawled ‘stop thief.’ The perspiration poured
-down the captain’s cheeks. He gasped for breath.
-And, to crown all, as he got opposite his charmer’s
-dwelling, a puff of wind swept off his wig—for his
-hat had been left in the court house in his hurry—and
-the envied locks sailing away to the rear amid
-convulsive shouts of laughter on the part of the crowd,
-betrayed the bald pate of Slashbey glistening like
-burnished silver in the sun.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Go it, fat ’un, and never mind the scratch,’ roared
-a ragged spectator, who was fairly dancing with delight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Hip—ho—heave ahead there,’ shouted another,
-shieing a missile at the fugitive.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Whow—whow—whoa,’ halloed others, running
-out in front of Thunderer and waving their arms and
-hats before his eyes, but scampering hither and
-thither as soon as the frightened steed drew near.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i025.jpg' alt='A man clings to a horse&#x27;s back while galloping wildly down a crowded street' id='iid-0003' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The captain felt his heart sink within him at this
-accumulation of disasters, and he could scarcely summon
-courage to look up, but he made a desperate
-effort, and—oh! shades of the gallant tenth—there
-was his mistress at the window pointing to his glossy
-pate, and laughing until the tears ran out of her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The captain felt that his last hope was gone,
-and in a moment of despair would have reined in his
-horse, but Thunderer took the matter in his own
-hands and kept on at a thrashing pace, amid the
-shouts and pelting of the crowd. He dashed down
-the cross-street, clattered over the bridge, and in a
-few minutes crossed the brow of the neighboring hill
-in a cloud of dust. The motley group in pursuit kept
-on, but when Thunderer’s mettle was up there wasn’t
-his match in the whole county, so that before long,
-one after another of the <span class='it'>posse</span> drew in, leaving only
-the sheriff and his deputies in pursuit. These, too,
-gave out before they reached the vicinity of the
-enchanted land, in other words, the cedar swamps
-this side of Squankum.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The joke clove to the captain’s name closer than
-a brother. The little vixen of an heiress had all along
-been coquetting with “the gallant warrior,” and now
-she was the loudest among the laughers at her wigless
-beau. She filled up Slashbey’s cup of sorrow by
-marrying, shortly after, the gallant whose nose the
-captain had pulled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What branch of the service,” asked a spooney
-lieutenant from the bottom of the table, after the
-laughter had somewhat subsided, “did you say your
-friend belonged to?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t particularize,” coolly said the narrator,
-“but I believe it was the <span class='it'>flying</span> artillery.”</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk107'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='reef'></a>THE REEFER OF ’76.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY THE “AUTHOR OF CRUIZING IN THE LAST WAR.”</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>THE SHIPWRECK.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> arrival of our battered fleet in the Texal, was
-the signal for a diplomatic war betwixt the ministers
-of England, Holland and France. The result of this
-encounter of wits, was the secret transfer of the captured
-ships to the latter power, and an order from
-the Prince of Orange to quit his dominions. Accordingly,
-Paul Jones, having superseded Landais in
-command of the Alliance, put to sea on the 27th of
-December, 1779, and, after running the gauntlet of
-the channel fleet, and approaching near enough to
-the Downs to examine its force, reached the roads of
-Groix on the 10th of February, 1780, in safety. As
-these things are matters of history, I briefly pass
-them over, the more readily because I did not myself
-accompany the commodore; for having found a letter
-from my captain, lying for me at Holland, requiring
-my return to Paris, I seized the first opportunity and
-started for France within a fortnight after the capture
-of the Serapis.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Our run through the straits was pleasant, and we
-had every prospect of a speedy voyage until our
-second day out, when the wind freshened into a gale,
-and before night it was blowing, as the old tars had
-it, “great guns and marlinspikes.” Every thing,
-however, was made fast and clean, and toward midnight
-I sought my hammock, and in a few moments,
-with a sailor’s carelessness, had forgotten our danger
-in sleep. How long I slept I cannot tell, but I was
-suddenly aroused from my slumbers by the heeling
-of the ship, and as I started up in my berth, I heard
-the salt water dashing through the cabin, and roaring
-in the hold as if the bulk-heads were giving way.
-The lights were out, and I could see nothing, but I
-knew by the sound that the water was pouring in a
-cataract down the companion way, and that all escape
-therefore by that path was cut off. Could the
-ship be sinking?—had she broached to?—where
-were the crew? were the questions that rushed
-through my mind at that awful moment. I listened
-a second to hear, if I could, any sign of my fellow
-passengers in the cabin; but the place appeared to
-be deserted. Knowing that no time was to be lost,
-I sprang to the window in the stern, but—Good God!
-the dead lights were in, and all escape by that way
-was closed on me. Louder and louder roared the
-waters into the cabin, already they were dashing
-their cold spray around me, and in a few seconds they
-would submerge my berth. Death stared me in the
-face—death, too, in its most horrid guise. My brain
-whirled, my knees shook, my skin felt cold as the
-grave, and my usually buoyant heart sank within me.
-But these feelings triumphed only for a moment.
-My native resolution came speedily to my aid, and I
-determined to die, since die I must, like the old philosopher
-who wrapped his garments around him and
-lay down as if to a pleasant sleep. At this instant I
-suddenly remembered that the cabin had an outlet
-overhead, and groping my way along, half buried
-in water the while, I caught hold of the frame work
-of the binnacle, and dashing the glass out with my
-hand, raised myself up, and, the next minute, crawled
-on deck. For an instant—so terrific was the violence
-of the gale which swept past me—I could neither
-see, hear, nor stand. The rain and hail beating fiercely
-against me, pinned me down to the spot which I had
-first gained, while the thunder of the hurricane that
-went whistling and roaring by, seemed to forebode
-the approach of the final day itself. Oceans of water
-deluged the deck, hissing past me like the scornful
-laughter of fiends. At length I managed to raise my
-head and cast a glance at the scene around me.
-The darkness was almost impenetrable, but sufficient
-light existed to convince me that the decks were deserted,
-and that the ship was lying on her beam-ends,
-with cataracts of water rolling momently over her
-windward side. Oh! God, what a ruin! Officer and
-man, passengers and crew, all, all had been swept
-away by the devouring surge, and I alone was left,
-preserved almost by a miracle. I gazed to leeward,
-but only a waste of driving foam met my eye—I
-looked astern, nothing but the green monsters of the
-deep, rolling mountain high, were seen. At this instant
-another deluge of foam whistled past, blinding
-my eyes with spray, and jerking me with a giant’s
-power from my hold. Buried in brine, bruised, despairing,
-and almost stunned, I thought my hour had
-come, and breathing a momentary prayer to heaven
-for mercy, I resigned myself to death. Suddenly my
-hand struck against something, which, with an instinctive
-love for life, I grasped. My progress was instantaneously
-checked, and, although the resistance
-almost snapped my arms from their sockets, I still
-clung to the object I had caught. When the billow
-had whirled past, and the spray had ceased to blind
-my eyes, I saw that I had seized one of the posts of
-the bulwarks. Taking advantage of a momentary
-lull, I crept to a place of greater security, and sat
-down to ponder over my chances of escape.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>All through that awful night I clung to my frail
-support, expecting momently to be swept from it into
-eternity. Language cannot describe my feelings.
-No pen can paint the horrors of those long and dreary
-hours. The air grew intensely cold: the rain became
-hail. The sky, if possible, lowered more gloomily,
-and the billows rolled higher and higher around me,
-while the deep tones of the tempest mingled with the
-chafing of the surges, rose up over all like the wild
-choral symphony which we dream of as forever
-rising from the world of ruin and despair. Borne
-aloft on the waves, or hurried down into the abyss,
-drenched, bruised, and bewildered, I saw no gleam
-of hope. Beneath me was the boiling deep—above
-me the sky seemed settling bodily down. Now the
-gale whistled shrilly past, or now wailed moaningly
-away to leeward. Darkness and terror were all
-around me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At length the morning dawned, but slowly and despairingly.
-The gale somewhat subsided, too; but
-its violence was still terrific. In the eastern firmament
-there was a dull, misty light, hanging like a
-belt along the seaboard, but the sun itself was completely
-obscured. By the faint glimmer thus thrown
-around the scene, I hoped to distinguish some approaching
-sail. It was in vain. Nothing met my
-vision, save the wild waste tossing to and fro in agony.
-Again and again I looked,—but again and again in
-vain. At length I caught sight of what would have
-seemed to a landsman to be the foam on the crest of
-a far off wave, but which I knew to be a sail. How
-my heart throbbed as I watched the course of the
-approaching craft! I soon made her out to be a ship
-driving before the gale under a close reefed main-course,
-and as she approached nearer, I saw that she
-was an English man-of-war. Captivity was better
-than death, and I did not, therefore, hesitate. I
-shouted aloud. But I might as well have lifted up
-my voice against the thunder. I waved my arm
-aloft. It was in vain. I clambered up on the weather-quarter,
-and once more waving my arm, shouted with
-superhuman strength. The head of the frigate came
-gallantly around, and with a cry of joy, I saw the
-man-of-war make towards me. Big tears of gratitude
-rushed into my eyes, and my throat parched with
-emotion. On came the noble stranger, swinging her
-tall masts gracefully, and in a few minutes she was
-close on to me. I could see the look-outs gazing
-towards me. In a little space I should be rescued.
-At this moment a billow broke over me again, but,
-undaunted by the drenching, when I rose to the surface,
-I turned gaily in the direction of the frigate.
-God of my fathers!—she was not to be seen! I
-gazed with a throbbing heart to windward, and there
-was the man-of-war, edging away from me as if
-unconscious of my presence. I gazed speechlessly
-on her. The truth broke agonizingly on me. The
-frigate had approached the wreck, and not seeing
-me, had thought all on board lost, and resumed her
-course. In vain I shouted, and in vain I waved my
-arm frantically on high. I felt from the first there
-was no hope, and at length, giving over every effort,
-I crouched down once more in that state of complete
-exhaustion, both mentally and physically, which
-ensues, when the excitement of hope is followed by
-the certainty of despair.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The day wore on. The tempest slowly abated.
-Yet no welcome sail met my vision, unless a few far
-off crafts which crossed the seaboard, hull down, and
-which brought no hope, could be called welcome.
-As hour after hour wore away, my hold on life grew
-weaker and weaker. My physical powers, I felt,
-could not much longer endure this exposure to tempest
-and cold. Already the blood seemed at a stand
-in my extremities, and I fancied I felt the cold chill
-shuddering up to my heart. A drowsiness came over
-me. But rallying myself, I beat my hands and
-stamped my feet to invigorate, if possible, the vital
-current. At length I paused from pure exhaustion.
-Still no aid appeared. My spirits at length flagged.
-I felt that utter prostration which, by taking away
-the spring of hope, deprives us of all motive for
-exertion, and is the sure forerunner of a death of
-despair. I lost all longing for life. The sensation of
-cold subsided. I felt no pain. A dreamy bliss crept
-soothingly over my soul—the sea, the sky, the air,
-the wreck swam around before me—visions such as
-no mortal eye hath seen or imagined, thronged on
-my brain—an exstacy I cannot describe, but which
-makes my hand even now tremble with rapture, possessed
-me,—and then all is blank.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Again, and I dreamed. I seemed to be in the centre
-of a vast void, a universe of darkness and obscurity.
-Yet all was not gloom. For amid the shadowy
-firmament appeared a fair bright face beaming upon
-me like an angel’s from the clouds—a face whose
-features were written on my inmost heart, so soft
-and seraphic was their expression! I knew it—it
-was that of Beatrice. The mild blue eye, the hair
-of wavy gold, the brow that rivalled a Madonna’s,
-and more than all, the smile which now appeared all
-glorified, told me that face was hers. And it gazed on
-me with pity and love. And then I heard a voice—like
-and yet unlike hers, for the tone was that of
-Beatrice, but even sweeter, and, oh! how heavenly!
-The very air seemed music. Was she, indeed, a
-beatified spirit sent to waft me onward to a brighter
-world?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But once more all was dark—a voiceless void!
-I had but one feeling, and that was of being. I knew
-not, heard not, saw not. I could not think. But my
-soul was, as it were, agony itself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At length a light broke in on that void. My brain
-swam and I faintly opened my eyes. Was I yet an
-inhabitant of earth? The bed, the curtains, the room
-beyond convinced me at length that I lived. I feebly
-raised myself up and gazed around. A footstep approached.
-Overcome with faintness I sank down. A
-hand put aside the curtains, a cry of joy broke from
-the intruder, a hot tear-drop fell on my face. I looked
-up, and there was Beatrice!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My own—” I faintly articulated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hush!—not a word yet,” she said archly, placing
-her fingers to her lips with a smile.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk108'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='int'></a>THE INTERESTING STRANGER.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>OR, DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY EMMA C. EMBURY.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>On</span> a hot sultry afternoon, in the August of 18—,
-a tall, pale, melancholy-looking gentleman alighted
-from the stage-coach at the door of the Eagle Tavern,
-in Buffalo, and, after a few minutes’ conversation
-with the bar-keeper, was ushered into a handsome
-private parlor, while his baggage was carried to one
-of the finest bed-rooms in the house. Perhaps, had
-the stranger mingled carelessly with the loungers on
-the piazza, after his arrival, he would have attracted
-little more attention than the companions of his wearisome
-journey, for, excepting a slight moustache on
-his upper lip, there was nothing to distinguish him in
-external appearance. But his quiet, grave deportment,
-and the desire for seclusion which he exhibited,
-excited the curiosity of the news-mongers, and a
-thousand conjectures concerning him were immediately
-set afloat. The stranger, however, seemed little
-disposed to satisfy the spirit of inquiry which
-prevails so extensively in American hotels; for, after
-taking possession of his apartments, he appeared no
-more that evening, and the waiter, who carried to
-him his supper, could only say that “he was a <span class='it'>real</span>
-gentleman, for he had given him a hard dollar—that
-he wore a flowered silk dressing-gown and embroidered
-slippers, and that he was going to stay in Buffalo
-a month.” The next morning the interest which
-he had excited extended itself to the no less curious
-gossips of the gentler sex; and, when the bell rang
-for dinner, many an eye was turned to the closed door
-of Room No. 2, in the hope of seeing its inmate
-emerge from his retirement. They were not doomed
-to disappointment. After all were seated at table,
-the stranger glided quietly into the dining-hall, and
-took his seat at the foot of the well-filled board, apparently
-unconscious of the piercing glances which
-were directed towards him. Notwithstanding the
-profusion of dainties which were officiously offered
-him by the waiter, whose heart had been won by the
-“hard dollar” on the previous night, he merely tasted
-a single dish, and refusing all the luxuries of the dessert,
-finished his frugal meal with a bit of dry bread
-and a glass of iced water. His abstemiousness and
-abstraction of manner excited the attention of every
-one, and when he silently rose to leave the table,
-many a glance followed his slowly-receding form.
-The ladies had not failed to observe his stately figure,
-his fine aquiline nose, the melancholy softness of his
-dark eyes, and the beauty of his hands, which were
-small, white and tapering, as, according to Napoleon
-and Byron, all aristocratic hands should be. They
-at once decided that he was a person of some distinction;
-perhaps an English nobleman incognito, or
-at least a rich and well-born Southerner. But a week
-had elapsed before he chose to give any other idea of
-his rank and station than might be derived from the
-register of the hotel, where he had inscribed, in a
-very elegant hand, the name of “Charles Stuart
-Montague, New Orleans.” Polite, courteous and
-gentlemanly to every one whom he chanced to encounter,
-particularly to females, he soon won the
-suffrages of all by his civilities, while he excited
-general sympathy by his uniform sadness of deportment.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Among the inmates of the house was the Hon. Mr.
-Windlespin, an extensive land-holder and an ex-member
-of Congress, who, with his two daughters, had
-recently returned from a visit to France, and now occupied
-elegantly-furnished apartments in the hotel.
-The saloon appropriated to this family was directly
-opposite to that occupied by Mr. Montague, and the
-ladies were dying with curiosity to learn something
-about their handsome neighbor. The heat of the
-weather compelled both to leave open the doors of
-their respective apartments, and the many furtive
-looks which the two Misses Windlespin cast into the
-tempting room had enabled them to catch a glimpse
-of a richly-enchased writing-case upon the centre
-table, and a guitar leaning against the chimney-piece,
-while they had several times enjoyed the opportunity
-of watching the solemn step of the melancholy stranger,
-as, attired in the said silk dressing-gown, he
-paced the limits of his apartment. They reflected
-much upon the singular mystery which seemed to involve
-him. What could make him so unhappy? He
-was evidently rich, handsome, and, as they were
-willing to believe, accomplished—for the mournful
-strains of a flute were sometimes heard at the dim
-twilight, and occasionally a few chords on the guitar,
-struck as if with a trembling hand, resounded through
-his lonely room. What could be the cause of such
-deep despondency?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But Mr. Montague had not been quite insensible to
-the vicinity of the elegant Misses Windlespin. A
-graceful bow had frequently marked his consciousness
-of their presence as he passed the open door of
-the parlor; and, more than once, he had paused at
-the entrance of the dining-hall, while they swept by
-to take their places at table, acknowledging his politeness
-by a profound courtesy <span class='it'>à la mode de Paris</span>.
-In the course of the changes which daily occur at a
-public table, Mr. Montague had gradually moved up,
-until, as one of the oldest boarders in the house, he
-occupied a seat next to the Windlespin family. A
-fine opportunity was now offered for those civilities
-which cost so little and are often productive of so
-many pleasant results. By degrees the abstraction
-of the melancholy gentleman was beguiled by the
-charms of his fair neighbors, and the ladies noticed,
-with no small degree of satisfaction, that they could
-induce him, not only to prolong his stay at table, but
-also to exchange his frugal fare for the dainties which
-they so much enjoyed. In short, an acquaintance
-between them had fairly commenced, and they mutually
-congratulated each other when the “<span class='it'>interesting
-stranger</span>” actually accepted an invitation to pass
-an evening with them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Miss Grace Windlespin was a sentimentalist, while
-her sister Catharine affected vivacity and brilliancy.
-The elder was all poetry—the younger all fun and
-frolic. Grace spoke in a gentle voice, and raised her
-blue eyes sweetly and languidly to the face of those
-whom she addressed; while Kate (for so, in imitation
-of Shakspeare’s heroine, she affected to be
-styled) turned the full light of her bold laughing
-glances on every one worth looking at. The one delighted
-in the soft pleasures of sensibility—the other
-in the ready repartee and saucy jest. In short, the
-sisters were alike in nothing except their excessive
-affectation. Neither of them exhibited her natural
-character; all was assumed for effect, and each had
-studied the part best suited to her style of beauty.
-The slightly-bending figure, pale complexion and long
-chestnut ringlets of Grace were admirably suited to
-her very <span class='it'>poetic</span> manner; while the blonde hair, rosy
-cheeks and somewhat dumpy person of her merry
-sister were equally well suited to the devil-may-care
-character which she chose to assume.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Their father was one of those kind of persons who
-are constantly engaged in visionary schemes of
-wealth. Nobody better understood how to puff up a
-bubble—nobody was better skilled in “mapping
-out” landed estates—nobody possessed in such perfection
-the gift of “<span class='it'>fortune-telling</span>” as the Hon. Mr.
-Windlespin. Originally a country shop-keeper in
-Jersey, his first start in life had been rather an odd
-one. Taking advantage of the mania for “real estate
-speculations,” which pervaded the whole country,
-he, in company with several others, projected a
-new city, to be located upon their extensive and
-somewhat barren farms. Accordingly a large hotel
-was built, a meeting-house erected, a school-house
-raised, and some half dozen dwelling-houses were
-ranged along what was meant to be the main street.
-In an incredibly short time all was completed, and
-every thing was ready except the people who were
-required to occupy the infant city. These were still
-to be found, and the company began to discover that
-it would be exceedingly inconvenient to pay “<span class='it'>interest
-monies</span>” without some assistance. At this juncture
-the genius of Mr. Windlespin devised an expedient
-for bringing their new settlement into notice.
-He advertised in all the papers that a purse of fifty
-dollars would be “<span class='it'>danced for</span>” by twelve <span class='it'>Communipaw
-negroes</span>—the dancers to be selected from as
-many as chose to try their skill previous to the grand
-effort. The scene of these new <span class='it'>Athletæ</span> was to be
-the extensive plain which fronted the hotel at “<span class='it'>Scipio-Africanus</span>”—for
-such was the sounding title
-which Mr. Windlespin, after a careful search into an
-old copy of Lemprière’s dictionary, had chosen for
-the incipient city. The idle, the dissolute, and the
-shiftless—the people who are most easily led to
-change their habitations, like wandering Arabs, are
-the very men who were most likely to be attracted
-by such a queer and novel amusement. Accordingly
-Mr. Windlespin’s plan succeeded admirably. On the
-day appointed for the selection of the sable candidates
-for <span class='it'>saltatory honors</span>, several hundred people
-were assembled in and about the hotel, while a still
-greater number of the dark race were gathered to
-exhibit their skill. Certain rules were laid down for
-the governance of the assembly—a place was cleared
-for the exhibition—the negroes came forward by
-tens, and he who could tire down all his companions
-was set aside as worthy to compete for the prize.
-The first day was consumed in this important investigation;
-<span class='it'>thirty</span> first-rate professors of the double-shuffle
-and heel-and-toe exercise had been chosen,
-and the following day was to be devoted to the selection
-of the appointed <span class='it'>twelve</span>, from this reduced number
-of candidates. The hotel was filled to overflowing—the
-dwelling houses were no longer empty
-shells; but, furnished with camp beds, offered shelter
-and repose to the wearied spectators, and even
-the meeting-house was appropriated to their accommodation.
-The second day was similarly spent, except
-that the concourse of visiters had increased, and
-the excitement of the scene had produced sundry
-brawls and broken heads. The third and last day
-was appropriated to the performance of the selected
-twelve, and the final adjudication of the purse. Never
-had there been such gyrations, such circumflexions,
-such saltations as were then witnessed. Never had
-a victory been purchased at such a sudoriferous expense.
-One after another, the dancers withdrew exhausted,
-until only three were left, who seemed to
-bid defiance to fatigue. Hour after hour they continued
-their exertions, until they seemed to be converted
-into mere machines, and with staring eyes,
-stiffened limbs, and shining faces, appeared like monstrous
-images, moved by some mechanical force. At
-last the spectators became completely tired with this
-exhibition of perpetual motion. They insisted that
-the prize should be equally divided between the three
-indefatigable dancers, and thus the singular entertainment
-closed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But Windlespin had not been idle during those
-three days. His brandy was very excellent—he
-made “glorious” rum punch—his cigars were real
-“Habanas,” and his customers had fully enjoyed the
-manifold creature comforts which he offered them.
-When they prepared to return home, most of them
-carried in their pockets the deed of a building-lot in
-the town of Scipio-Africanus, for which they had
-paid ten per cent. of the purchase-money, and given
-a bond and mortgage for the remainder; while a few,
-being persuaded that the neighborhood of such a hotel
-was a most desirable addition to the comforts of
-a family, concluded to take immediate possession of
-the houses already erected. Thus did the incipient
-city receive its earliest inhabitants, and though it
-has never yet been obliged to enlarge its borders in
-consequence of <span class='it'>over-populousness</span>, it still drags on a
-sickly existence, having, however, exchanged its original
-euphonious title for the more simple but no less
-expressive one of “<span class='it'>Niggertown</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Windlespin’s grand stroke of policy remained
-yet to be shown. As treasurer of the company, as
-well as officiating master of the hotel, all monies
-derived from the custom at the bar, as well as from
-the sale of building-lots, had passed through his
-hands. After the affair was over, he called a meeting
-of the company, exhibited a statement of expenses
-and receipts, and after deducting the former,
-paid over the latter to the various members, reserving
-to himself a handsome commission for his trouble.
-He did not think it necessary to inform his
-confederates of the fact that every thing had been
-purchased on credit, and that, so far from paying the
-expenses, he had, by using their names, rendered
-them liable for the debt which had been incurred, but
-quietly pocketing the lion’s share of the spoils, he
-bade adieu to the limits of “Niggertown,” in order
-to try his luck in a new field.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Such was Mr. Windlespin’s first essay in fortune-hunting,
-and several affairs of a similar nature had
-so increased his means, that he found himself quite
-a respected resident in one of our northern cities, almost
-before he was aware of his elevated position in
-society. He was finally chosen a member of congress
-for the district, and though, owing to some dubious
-transaction, his seat was disputed, and he magnanimously
-resigned what he knew he could not keep,
-yet he never relinquished the prefix of Honorable, to
-which the choice of his constituents entitled him.
-Shortly before the appearance of Mr. Charles Stuart
-Montague upon the scene, Mr. Windlespin had taken
-his daughters to Paris, where they received the benefit
-of foreign polish for six weeks, and then returned
-as highly accomplished as a modern boarding-school,
-a journey in a French diligence and a taste of French
-cookery could make them. They meant to marry,
-and to marry rich, and therefore each had chosen a
-part which, while it offered a wide field, was likely,
-as they supposed, to occasion no rivalry.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Windlespin was too wily to be long in doubt
-as to Mr. Montague’s circumstances. He managed
-to discover that he was a widower, sorrowing over
-the recent loss of a beloved wife, and that he had
-come to the north with the double motive of dissipating
-his grief, and purchasing a certain description
-of merchandise, which he designed to send to the
-city of Galveston, where a branch of his widely-extended
-commercial house was established. This
-news was of course communicated to the young ladies,
-and while Grace became doubly sentimental,
-Kate, the amiable romp, determined to wile him from
-his vain regrets by the charms of gayety. Leaving
-his daughters to pursue their matrimonial plans, Mr.
-Windlespin determined to make the most of his present
-opportunities, and, if possible, to gain some percentage
-on account of the interesting stranger. He
-accordingly sounded a friend, a careful old Scotchman,
-who dealt largely in the kind of goods required
-by Mr. Montague, and endeavored to secure a handsome
-commission from him, in case he brought him
-so profitable a customer. But the crafty old fellow
-was not to be caught with fair promises; he required
-proof of Mr. Montague’s ability to become a cash
-customer, and accepted an invitation to meet him at
-Mr. Windlespin’s apartments. But the scene which
-met his eyes when he entered the parlor at early
-twilight, was not calculated to give him a very exalted
-opinion of his anticipated dealer. The elegant
-Mr. Montague, attired in pantaloons of spotless
-white, with gaiters of the same snowy hue, extending
-within an inch of the toe of his shining boot—a
-blue silk fancy jacket, fastened to his waist by a
-sash of crimson net—an embroidered collar, turned
-back from his throat, and embroidered ruffles dangling
-over his delicate hands, seemed to the rough
-old borderer like the very personification of effeminacy
-and folly. But when he only half rose from his
-graceful attitude, and extended the tip of his finger
-to the visiter, while he directly turned from him to
-continue his flirtation with the sisters, Mr. MacDonald
-lost all patience with himself for having been
-foolish enough to expect any benefit from such a
-“popinjay.” But even Mr. MacDonald could not
-read the character of the “interesting stranger.”
-Early on the following morning, he had scarcely
-reached the counting-room, when he was surprised
-by a visit from Mr. Montague, and the old man could
-scarcely identify the hero of the past evening’s manœuvres
-in the keen and practised man of business
-who now addressed him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I never talk on business in the presence of ladies,
-sir,” said the elegant gentleman, “and this, I hope,
-will account for my silence on the subject last evening;
-if I am rightly informed, however, you are the
-very person to whom I was advised to apply by my
-friend Mr. Tickler, of New Orleans.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, Mr. Tickler, cashier of the Sugarcane Bank,
-you mean; an old friend of mine,” answered Mr.
-MacDonald, “did he give you letters to me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, sir,” answered Mr. Montague; “when I left
-New Orleans, I was not certain whether I should visit
-Buffalo, or limit my journey to New York, and therefore
-I brought no letters to any one in this city. However,
-you probably know your friend’s hand-writing,
-and, if so, these papers will answer our purpose better
-than a mere empty introduction.” With these
-words he drew from his pocket-book sundry certificates
-of deposit in the Sugarcane Bank, which bore
-the signature of the cashier.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That is his hand, sure enough, and a crabbed fist
-he writes too,” said Mr. MacDonald, after a close
-scrutiny of the proffered papers. While examining
-the signatures, the careful old man had not forgotten
-to glance at the amounts, and he thus learned that
-the sum of <span class='it'>thirty thousand dollars</span> was at that moment
-lying in the Sugarcane Bank to the credit of
-Mr. Charles Stuart Montague.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am desirous of purchasing some twenty or
-thirty thousand dollars worth of goods,” said the
-gentleman, carelessly, “and if I can get them sufficiently
-cheap here to pay the cost of transportation
-to New York, I would rather buy in Buffalo than
-hunt among the Pearl street jobbers in that Babel of
-a city. I mean to pay cash, and shall ship the goods
-immediately to Galveston.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What an immense business those southern merchants
-must do,” mentally exclaimed Mr. MacDonald;
-“he speaks of dollars as if they were pebbles.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Montague continued: “If you are disposed to
-let me have the specified articles at fair prices, with
-a liberal discount for cash, I will immediately make
-arrangements to have them sent on. However,” he
-added, noticing the cautious Scotchman’s hesitation,
-“perhaps you had better take till to-morrow to think
-about it, and, in the mean time, I will look round the
-market, and may possibly be able to find better bargains
-than you can afford me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hang the fellow’s boldness,” thought Mr. MacDonald;
-“if he were a rogue he would not be so indifferent
-about the matter.” He determined, however,
-to consult Mr. Windlespin before he made his
-decision, and therefore fixed upon the following day
-to settle the affair. Mr. Windlespin took the opportunity
-offered by Mr. Montague’s daily visit to his
-daughters, and in the course of a private interview
-with the merchant, entered into a negotiation with
-him by which he, Mr. Windlespin, bound himself to
-take half the risk, on condition of receiving half the
-profits of the sales made to Mr. Montague. Mr. MacDonald
-preferred this method to the original proposition
-of a certain percentage, as it gave him the opportunity
-of gaining an advantage over both the parties.
-Accordingly Mr. Montague was waited upon
-by Mr. MacDonald, and a close and hair-splitting
-negotiation was carried on for some time, which resulted
-in the purchase of goods to the value of twenty
-thousand dollars, which were to be delivered to Mr.
-Montague’s agent in New York free of all expenses.
-In return, Mr. Montague handed to Mr. MacDonald
-certificates of deposit to the amount of twenty-five
-thousand dollars, which were easily negotiable in
-New York at three per cent. discount; and as some
-time would be required to complete the transaction,
-the stranger agreed to prolong his stay in Buffalo
-until the delivery of the goods in New York.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the meanwhile, the elegant widower was managing
-equally well in his love affairs. He listened
-to Kate’s wild sallies with a languid smile, and patted
-her round cheek or clasped her luxuriant waist in
-a most brother-like or rather <span class='it'>cousin-like</span> fashion. To
-Grace he was all courtliness and gentleness; if he
-took her hand it was with an air of timid respect,
-which would have done honour to a “<span class='it'>Paladin chivalresque</span>,”
-and if he ventured to hang over her, as
-she sat in one of her sentimental attitudes, it was
-with a look of tender melancholy which melted her
-very heart. Each believed herself the favorite.
-Kate could draw him from his trance of grief, and
-Grace was allowed to sympathise with him. He
-talked to one of the gayeties of New Orleans—to
-the other, of the domestic happiness he had enjoyed
-there; and when, at length, he was induced to exercise
-his musical talents in their behalf, he played
-fandangos on the guitar for the lovely Kate, while he
-poured forth the mournful voice of the wailing flute
-for her sentimental sister. But, notwithstanding all
-her exquisite sensibility, Grace Windlespin beheld
-with secret satisfaction the returning cheerfulness of
-the bereaved widower. He talked less of departed
-joys, and seemed less despairing of future peace.
-The miniature of his lost wife was no longer pressed
-to his lips with all the fondness of passionate love
-whenever his feelings were overpowered by tender
-recollections, and, though he still wore it about his
-neck, it was suspended upon a <span class='it'>hair chain</span>, the gift of
-the gentle Grace, and <span class='it'>presumed</span> to be a tress from her
-own chestnut locks, though in reality derived from
-the store of a fashionable barber in the neighborhood.
-His watch-guard was braided by the hands of the
-lovely hoyden who had laughingly promised him her
-garter for the purpose; and, in short, each had reason
-to suppose herself the true magnet of attraction.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But matters were now drawing to a crisis. The
-goods were now sent on to New York, and Mr. Montague
-received tidings that they had been duly received
-by his agent. The certificates of deposit were
-negotiated by two of the Wall street brokers, and
-Mr. MacDonald, after paying himself, handed to the
-young southerner the balance. It became necessary,
-therefore, for Mr. Montague to repair to New York,
-in order to superintend the shipment of his merchandise,
-and he felt himself obliged to settle his “<span class='it'>affaire
-du cœur</span>” before his departure.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“How happy could I be with either,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Were t’other dear charmer away,”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>sung the “interesting stranger,” as he reflected upon
-his position between the rival beauties. But he
-managed with his usual adroitness. The gentle
-Grace contrived to secure an uninterrupted interview
-with him, and received a proffer of his heart and
-hand, both of which gifts she lovingly accepted, together
-with a delicate locket, containing some of her
-adorer’s raven hair, set in a circlet of aqua-marine
-gems—“emblems,” as he said, “of her transparent
-guilelessness of character.” A merry game of romps
-with Kate afforded him a chance of whispering a declaration
-in her ear also, and an elegant diamond
-ring, “only less brilliant than her own bright eyes”—to
-use his elegant phrase—was received by her as a
-pledge of betrothment to Mr. Charles Stuart Montague.
-Having arranged these little matters to his
-satisfaction, he departed, leaving his flute, his guitar,
-and his writing-case, in charge of the ladies until
-his return. Meanwhile the sisters—each imagining
-she had outwitted the other—kept their own
-secret, and patiently awaited the moment when the
-lover should return to claim his bride.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Scarcely a month had elapsed, however, when intelligence
-of a most startling nature was received.
-The certificates of deposit, which had been forwarded
-by the New York brokers to their agents in New
-Orleans, when presented to the bank for payment,
-were pronounced to be <span class='it'>forgeries</span>! An inquiry was
-immediately instituted respecting Mr. Charles Stuart
-Montague, and the result of the investigation was,
-that no such person was known to the cashier of the
-Sugarcane Bank, and that the signatures to the certificates,
-though admirably well executed, were only
-<span class='it'>excellent imitations</span> of the rugged characters in which
-Mr. Tickler usually traced his name. But the length
-of time which was required to ascertain that fact, had
-afforded the gentleman full time to complete his
-plans. The goods which he had purchased in Buffalo,
-had been sold at auction by his confederate, as
-soon as they reached New York. Mr. Montague arrived
-there in time to divide the spoils; and, instead
-of shipping the merchandise, they concluded to ship
-<span class='it'>themselves</span> for Texas; while Mr. Windlespin and Mr.
-MacDonald, who had endorsed the certificates, were
-left to reimburse the brokers, and to pocket their
-own loss.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The ladies were filled with amazement and grief,
-and, in the first overwhelming burst of anguish, revealed
-to each other the alarming fact that Mr. Montague
-was actually <span class='it'>engaged to marry both</span>! His
-writing-case was opened, and found to contain some
-rose-tinted note paper—a stick of pink sealing-wax,
-and an agate seal, with the impressive motto, “<span class='it'>toujours
-fidèle</span>.” But, upon further examination, a private
-drawer was discovered, containing the following
-letters:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='noindent'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Jack</span>,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why the deuce don’t you get on faster with
-your Buffalo scheme? It will cost as much as it is
-worth if you stay much longer. I believe you like
-the trade of gentleman, for whenever you take it up
-you let every thing else hang by the eyelids till you
-get into some scrape which drives you ahead. What
-do you expect to gain by courting those two girls
-when you can’t marry either of them if they were as
-rich as Jews? For my part I don’t see the use of playing
-the devil when there is nothing to be gained by it.
-By the way, I promised to send the enclosed letter as
-the only means of preventing Mistress Molly from
-advertising you, as she does not know where you are.
-I hope you will be duly grateful to</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:3em;margin-top:0.5em;'>“Your friend,</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:1em;margin-top:0.5em;'>“T. M.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The enclosure was still more curious:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“U are a big Scamp and a Blackhearted villin. If
-u hav no Kumpashum fur me u mite Hav sum for ure
-own Flesh and blude—here I am a Washin and goin
-out to dase work to Feed ure seven starvin childer
-wile u are a travellin About jist like a jintleman—u
-ought to Bee ashamed so u ought and if u dont cum
-home and luke after us I will Advertis u in all The
-papers. Any Boddy would no u by ure discrepshun
-u most insinivatin man—oh wen I think Of ure butiful
-Long hare and ure Hansume face I culde forgiv u
-every thing only cum back and i will forgiv u and i
-will werk fur u agin jist Like i alwase did so as to
-Save ure Little wite Hands so no more at present
-from ure</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;margin-top:0.5em;'>“afecshunate Mary Mugson.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>About two years after the events just recorded,
-Miss Grace Windlespin (who had long since discovered
-that her aqua-marine locket, like her sister’s
-diamond, was as false as the lover’s heart) was led
-to the hymeneal altar, as the phrase is, by a very respectable
-<span class='it'>tailor</span>; while Miss Kate had tamed down
-her wild spirit so far as to marry a country school-master—an
-elderly widower, with several children.
-The truth was that Mr. Windlespin’s land speculations
-had ended in total ruin, and the ladies had no
-time to pick and choose among their admirers, when
-they daily feared the exposure of their actual circumstances.
-They were married with great parade, however,
-and immediately after the ceremony the happy
-couples set off on a bridal tour—the two husbands
-having no doubt that the father’s wedding gift would
-pay all such little extra expenses. Among the places
-of note which they visited was the famous Auburn
-prison. The time chosen was the hour when the inmates
-are usually led out to dinner, and the ladies
-stood quietly regarding the gangs of men, who, with
-folded arms and locked step, moved forward, as if
-with a single impulse, like some complicated machine.
-Suddenly Grace uttered a loud shriek, and
-threw herself tenderly on her husband’s bosom. One
-of the prisoners had dared to look at her as he passed,
-and, unobserved by his keeper, had even given her a
-knowing <span class='it'>wink</span>. Kate kept her own counsel about it,
-and did not appear to notice the insolent look of the
-handsome felon; but, notwithstanding his shaven
-head and prison garb, she, as well as Grace, had recognised
-the features of “the interesting stranger”—the
-elegant Mr. Charles Stuart Montague—alias—Jack
-Mugson, the swindler!</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'><span class='sc'>Brooklyn, L. I.</span></span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk109'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='sere'></a>IL SERENADO DI VENICE.</h1></div>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>The</span> sunlight has faded away from the sky,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Bright day has departed, the night draweth nigh;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then come to the lattice, love, hither and see,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where waits the gondola, swift-gliding and free.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The moon is uprising in glorious light,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her beams on the waters are trembling and bright;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then haste to thy lattice, love, hither and see,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where waits the gondola, swift-gliding and free.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Not a cloud is above, nor a wave here below,</p>
-<p class='line0'>All is quiet and still, save the river’s soft flow;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! come to thy lattice, love, hither and see,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where waits the gondola, swift-gliding and free.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Then, away! then, away! let us pass the calm hours,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With the sweet words of love, and with Fancy’s fair flowers</p>
-<p class='line0'>Ere the rose-fingered morn shall appear and renew</p>
-<p class='line0'>The songs of the birds and the pearls of the dew.</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='sc'>Valeria.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk110'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='shak'></a>SHAKSPEARE.—No. III.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY THEODORE S. FAY, AUTHOR OF “NORMAN LESLIE,” “THE COUNTESS IDA,” ETC.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>LADY MACBETH.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Shakspeare</span> should be read at least once a year.
-This is to the mind what an excursion in the country
-is to the body—a strengthening, health-producing
-process. Each perusal will not be a repetition of the
-preceding. On the contrary, no two perusals will
-ever be alike. Read him as <span class='it'>a boy</span>, you will be dazzled
-and delighted: read him year by year after, and
-you will, with each year, behold beauties, sealed to
-you before, from your own comparative narrowness
-of mind and want of experience. Each event of your
-life will render you fitter to study him. Each new
-acquaintance you form—each history you read—each
-science you study—each country you travel
-into—each step you advance in life—each friend
-you lose by treachery or death, will prepare you still
-further. Could you go on adding to your experience
-much more than has ever (except in Shakspeare’s
-own case) been added to that of mortal man, each
-new progress would still enlarge your capacity for
-appreciating him. All men comprehend him differently.
-The king reads him as he would listen to the
-princely counsels of a royal father. The beggar may
-find in him something applicable to himself, and
-something likely to make him happier and wiser,
-which he himself had before never thought of—or
-of which he had only formed a vague idea. The
-statesman—the general—the prince royal—the
-husband—the father—the wife—the lover—the
-unfortunate—the happy—may all come here, and
-carry away, from the boundless reservoir, something
-apparently intended for themselves. He seems to
-have described or alluded <span class='it'>to every thing</span>. He seems
-to have taken in the whole range of human nature.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Poor <span class='it'>old general Montholon</span>, who was with Napoleon
-at St. Helena—one of the most faithful of the
-friends who have adhered to the fallen family—is
-the companion of the Prince Louis Napoleon, in his
-late <span class='it'>invasion</span> of France. Nearly all were very young
-men. This white-headed old soldier appeared among
-them strangely. Had they succeeded, it was doubtless
-their hope to give respectability to their cause
-by his presence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The same thing is proposed in Julius Cæsar, by
-the conspirators, respecting Cicero.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“<span class='it'>Cassius.</span> But what of Cicero? shall we send him?</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;I think he will stand very strong with us.</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Casca.</span> Let us not have him out.</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Cinna.</span> No, by no means.</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Metellus.</span> O, let us have him; for his silver hairs</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Will purchase us a good opinion,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And buy men’s voices to commend our deeds:</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;It shall be said his judgment ruled our hands;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;But all be buried in his gravity.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>I am not going to reprint the beauties of Shakspeare.
-Instances like the above—<span class='it'>a case</span>—an
-event—a feature of human nature—are so common
-that they need not be pointed out. Thousands of
-years hence, as the numberless crowd of unexpected
-events come on, it will be found that this poet has
-already described them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>These thoughts occurred to me the other evening
-after taking up casually a volume of Macbeth—perhaps
-one of the most tremendous portraitures of human
-nature that ever came from the pen of man.
-The play opened by chance to the scene where the
-remorse-haunted queen walks in her sleep. Surely
-no human writer ever set down, in the same number
-of words, a more terrific picture. It has upon me
-almost the effect ascribed to Medusa’s head. It
-nearly turns me to stone. We know that but few of
-the great Greek tragedies have descended to the
-modern reader, but neither in them, nor in any of the
-ancient or modern writers, is there a scene more
-highly conceived, more perfectly executed, or acting
-with more power upon the heart and the imagination.
-I have not read any comments or commentators,
-German or English, respecting it, and therefore very
-probably may omit some of its peculiarities. I think
-it <span class='it'>the</span> scene of Macbeth, the climax and moral of the
-tragedy, and perhaps the finest and most extraordinary
-piece of writing in the whole of the author’s
-works. No where in the range of literature is there
-to be seen such a frightful fragment of human nature.
-I can never read it without feeling the blood grow
-cold in my veins, and receiving a most painful heart-sick
-impression of the evils which hang over the
-mortal state, when not protected by moral and religious
-principle; and I can perfectly understand an
-anecdote related of Mrs. Siddons, who, on attempting
-to study the part alone in her room at night, became
-so frightened that she called her maid as a
-companion. Perhaps the Shaksperian theorist, who
-has discovered that the purpose of our poet’s works
-was to make an illustration of the truth of Christianity,
-by putting within every man’s, every boy’s
-reach the whole compass of experience to be derived
-from a hundred eventful lives, had an eye upon this
-scene among others. It certainly has to me a profound
-metaphysical and religious meaning, and is best
-explained by supposing it, like Othello, a gigantic
-enigma, of which Christianity is the solution. To
-represent human nature thus, without offering any
-remedial or softening consideration, was not characteristic
-of the sweet, gentle and sunshiny imagination
-of the poet. His whole works, taken together,
-do not leave any such shadow on the imagination.
-He is no misanthrope—no infidel. He points with
-his wand to human nature as she is, unguided, unsustained,
-unprotected by the Supreme Power. He
-draws the blood-stained yet heart-crushed queen, not
-to appal us with a danger to which we are subject,
-but to point out one which we can avoid.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The scene is very short, and I will give it, that the
-reader may the more readily understand me.</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:0.5em;'><span class='sc'>Act V. Scene I.</span></p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:0.5em;'><span class='it'>Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a Waiting Gentlewoman.</span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> I have two nights watch’d with you, but can perceive
-no truth in your report. When was it she last walk’d?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen
-her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock
-her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read
-it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this
-while in a most fast sleep.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once
-the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this
-slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other actual performances,
-what, at any time, have you heard her say?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> That, sir, which I will not report after her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> You may, to me; and ’tis most meet you should.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> Neither to you, nor any one; having no witness to
-confirm my speech.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:0.5em;margin-bottom:0.5em;'><span class='it'>Enter</span> <span class='sc'>Lady Macbeth</span>, <span class='it'>with a Taper</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and,
-upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> How came she by that light?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> Why, it stood by her; she has light by her continually;
-’tis her command.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> You see, her eyes are open.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> Ay, but their sense is shut.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her
-hands.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> It is an accustom’d action with her, to seem thus
-washing her hands; I have known her continue in this a
-quarter of an hour.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Lady.</span> Yet here’s a spot.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from
-her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Lady.</span> Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One; two; why,
-then ’tis time to do ’t; Hell is murky!—Fie, my lord, fie!
-a soldier, and afraid? what need we fear who knows it, when
-none can call our power to account?—Yet who would have
-thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> Do you mark that?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Lady.</span> The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?
-What, will these hands ne’er be clean?—No more o’ that,
-my lord, no more o’ that: you mar all with this starting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> She has spoke, what she should not, I am sure of
-that: heaven knows what she has known.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Lady.</span> Here’s the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes
-of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> What a sight is there? The heart is sorely charg’d!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the
-dignity of the whole body.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> Well, well, well,—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> Pray God, it be, sir.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> This disease is beyond my practice: Yet I have
-known those which have walked in their sleep, who have
-died holily in their beds.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Lady.</span> Wash your hands, put on your night-gown; look
-not so pale.—I tell you yet again, Banquo’s buried; he
-cannot come out of his grave.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> Even so?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Lady.</span> To bed, to bed; there’s knocking at the gate.—Come,
-come, come, come, give me your hand; what’s done
-cannot be undone: To bed, to bed, to bed. (<span class='it'>Exit Lady.</span></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Doct.</span> Will she go now to bed?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Gent.</span> Directly.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Doct.</span> Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds</p>
-<p class='line0'>Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds</p>
-<p class='line0'>To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.</p>
-<p class='line0'>More needs she the divine, than the physician.—</p>
-<p class='line0'>God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Remove from her the means of all annoyance,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And still keep eyes upon her:—So, good-night:</p>
-<p class='line0'>My mind she has mated, and amaz’d my sight:</p>
-<p class='line0'>I think, but dare not speak.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Gent.</span> Good-night, good doctor. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<span class='it'>Exeunt.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>There is not <span class='it'>a single word</span> of this scene which can
-be spared—not one which is not impregnated with
-blood and horror. You feel the very silence of the
-sick, midnight apartment. Ye see the pale ashy
-countenance of the terror-stricken gentlewoman, and
-sympathize with her in having her lot cast in such an
-abode of guilt and danger. You see that she has
-called up all her energy and presence of mind, as in
-a great crisis, to enable her to conduct herself wisely,
-and to escape with safety from this den of royal murderers.
-You can see her cautious step—as if she
-started even at the creaking of her own shoe—the
-rustling of her own robe, or the sighing of the wind
-around the distant turrets of the castle. You have
-here a most admirable character, and, except that
-she is but so short a time on the stage, almost as
-worthy the genius of Mrs. Siddons as that of Lady
-Macbeth herself. Were I a young actress, desirous
-of making my appearance before the public, I should
-choose to study thoroughly and represent well this
-character first,—a very great effect might be given
-to it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The doctor is also done to the life. He is, in all
-respects, not only the medical man, but the medical
-man of coolness and experience. The few words he
-utters are full of curiosity, but not of the unbridled
-horror of his companion. He has doubtless, before,
-witnessed scenes enough of pain and anguish, and he
-is at first disposed to consider the gentlewoman as
-an exaggerator of the mysteries she professes to have
-beheld, and to treat the whole thing physically as a
-disease, till the truth becomes too apparent, and even
-his cool mind is convinced.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lady Macbeth herself is the very <span class='it'>ne plus ultra</span> of
-the tragic. She has more terror in her step and eye,
-than a mere mortal ever had before. Waking remorse
-would not have been, by any means, so appalling.
-The fact of her being asleep is a great accessory.
-That pale face—those fixed, staring, dead
-eyes—the countenance emaciated by disease, and
-the long consuming fire of conscience—the step,
-solemn, slow, measured and unearthly—and the
-dark, dim and shifting imagery of the past, which
-floats to and fro through her imagination, form altogether
-a spectacle shocking and almost insupportable.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Let us take this extraordinary scene to pieces, and
-examine a little into its mechanism. One of the
-wonders of it is that there is no resort to <span class='it'>style</span>—no
-description—no bursts of eloquence—no lava-like
-eruption of passions. There are indeed but very few
-words said at all. The sick lady has, at first, no terrors
-for the doctor, and the gentlewoman has often
-beheld the same thing before. There is no stage effect—no
-management—no melo-dramatic cunning.
-The doctor even shows his coolness and incredulity,
-and makes a careless general remark. The transcendant
-genius of the poet felt, intuitively, that the
-situation of his characters here was so complete as
-to absorb the reader, and render unnecessary any but
-the simplest language. The whole scene is quiet,
-hushed and professional. Even the blank verse of
-the rest of the tragedy is laid aside, and the characters
-speak in common-place perfectly natural prose.
-Let us see what this almost supernatural terror consists
-in.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The doctor first says, we may suppose with a certain
-half unintentional degree of disappointment, that
-he has been already watching two nights to see something
-which the waiting-woman has reported to him
-respecting the queen, and yet he has seen nothing.</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive
-no truth in your report.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A little impatient, a little incredulous, perhaps,
-he adds:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When was it she last walked?”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This is a stroke of nature and probability at the
-very outset. It takes from the scene the air of a fiction.
-It sends the mind of the spectator back to the
-two past long nights, when the doctor, tolerably tired
-out, has been watching in vain. This is just as things
-happen in life. We have to watch and watch for
-every thing—even for the most true—before it appears.
-We feel also, even with the first apparently
-unimportant word spoken, a certain tremor at the
-intimation given of the domestic gloom which must
-reign in the royal household—an attack immediately
-expected from a powerful and inexorable foe—the
-queen sick—mysterious things, we know not what,
-hinted with pale face and trembling lips—and the
-guilty being, who had sold her eternal soul for her
-present position,—we see her <span class='it'>in</span> that position, all
-the promised triumphs and pleasures neutralized by
-disease and remorse, and she herself <span class='it'>watched</span> by her
-servants, night after night, when she little dreams
-herself the subject of such a combined inquisition.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The gentlewoman relates more particularly what
-she has seen, though with a guarded care, which not
-every gentlewoman in real life, under such exciting
-circumstances, would have the prudence to observe;
-but Shakspeare’s people are not only living but very
-sensible persons. To the question:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“When was it she last walked?”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>she replies:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Since his majesty went into the field.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>Here at once is another stroke. It tells the <span class='it'>occupation</span>
-of the king; called to a fearful contest and absorbed
-in it, the deadly secret is transpiring unopposed,
-undreamed of by him, behind his back, in the
-centre of his household, and from the lips of the very
-being who has so often taunted his weakness, and
-urged him with haughty scorn onward in his guilty
-and blood-tracked career. So little power has man
-over destiny! Thus is guilt beset. These are the
-nameless, unimaginable dangers it runs, when, bold
-and self-confident, it thinks itself equal to a contest
-with the Deity, who, seated in the clouds, strikes it
-with its own arm, and baffles its plans with the toils
-it has woven for others.</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her
-rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock
-her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it,
-afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while
-in a most fast sleep.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There is nothing more appalling to me than a person
-walking in his sleep. It is such an image of
-death aroused from the grave—such a type of the
-spiritual world—such a contrast to the same being
-when awake, that I could never look upon my most
-intimate friend in such a state without a thrill of fear,
-as if I were gazing upon his spectre—without perfectly
-comprehending Hamlet’s account of his own
-feelings in looking upon a ghost.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>——“and we fools of nature</p>
-<p class='line0'>So horribly to shake our disposition</p>
-<p class='line0'>With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>This statement of the waiting-woman, so simple,
-natural and true, is enough to arouse in a moment the
-curiosity of the most indifferent stranger, and to inspire
-him with an inexpressible anxiety to know what
-it means, and to what it will lead.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The doctor, however, is a man of the world, and
-is not so easily worked on. He replies with a mere
-generality:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the
-benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching. In this
-slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other actual performances,
-what at any time have you heard her say?”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Here there is a peeping out of curiosity on the part
-of the honest physician, who is eager to learn all that
-may be acquired of what has the appearance of an
-interesting secret. But his companion does not mean
-to go further than prudence and self-security require.
-She replies at once in a way which, while it balks
-curiosity, sharpens its appetite.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“That, sir, which I will not report after her.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>What would any doctor say in such a case?</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“You may to me; and ’tis most meet you should.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>He is aroused. He wishes—he is determined to
-know this mystery, and therefore pleads the privilege
-and necessity, as well as the prudence of his
-profession. “You may tell <span class='it'>any</span> thing to <span class='it'>me</span>. Of
-course I shall never reveal. I am the depositary of a
-thousand family secrets. Besides, if I am to treat
-the patient, I <span class='it'>must</span> know what is the matter with her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But the waiting-woman is not going to be driven
-from her determination. She has obviously received
-<span class='it'>a deep-seated fright</span>. Her whole self-possession is
-called up for her defence and guidance. She is a single
-woman, in a lonely castle, and in a really awful
-position, accidentally the holder of a secret involving
-the reputation, if not the life and death of those in
-power, and the fate perhaps of nations. Were she to
-hint her suspicion that her royal mistress was a murderess—that
-the fierce king, now desperate with the
-danger impending over his kingdom, had gained the
-throne by a foul assassination—how can she be sure
-that the doctor will not go to the king and betray
-her, to ingratiate himself into the favor of his royal
-master? Courts are not the places for too light confidences—particularly
-of such secrets. In such case
-the truth or falsehood of the statement would be little
-inquired into, and she would be probably hurled from
-the battlements or immured to starve in some dark
-dungeon. She is—you feel she is, quite in earnest,
-and quite right to reply:</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Neither to <span class='it'>you</span> nor <span class='it'>any one</span>; having no <span class='it'>witness</span> to <span class='it'>confirm
-my speech</span>.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk111'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='eph'></a>EPHEMERA.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY CHARLES WEST THOMSON.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>Well</span> might weep the sentimental Persian,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Looking o’er his host of armed men,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When on Greece he made his wild incursion,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Whence so few might e’er return again.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Well might he weep o’er those countless millions,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Dreaming of the future and the past,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As he gazed, amid the gold pavilions</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Round his throne, upon that crowd so vast.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Musing, with subdued and solemn feelings,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;On the awful thoughts that filled his soul—</p>
-<p class='line0'>One of those most terrible revealings</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That will sometimes o’er the spirit roll.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Thoughts, that of that multitude before him</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Panting high for fame—athirst to strive—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Ere old Time had sped a century o’er him,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Not, perhaps, would one be left alive.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>That those hearts, now bounding in the glory</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Of existence, would be hushed and cold;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Not their very names preserved in story,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Nor upon fame’s chronicle enrolled.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>All to earth, their proper home, departed;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Light heart, strong hand, all gone to kindred clay;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And, in their vacant room, a new race started,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Careless of the millions past away.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Well might weep he—well might we, in weeping,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Make our offering at sorrow’s call—</p>
-<p class='line0'>When we ponder how our days are creeping,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Like the shadow on the wall.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>When we think how soon the sun-beam, setting,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Will depart, and leave it all in shade—</p>
-<p class='line0'>And our very friends will be forgetting</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That the daylight o’er it ever played.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Life, upon a swallow’s wing is flying,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;O’er the earth it sparkles and is gone;</p>
-<p class='line0'>All our days are but a lengthened dying—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;One dark hour before the eternal dawn.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Riches, glory, honor, fame, ambition—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;All as swiftly fly, as soon are fled;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Or, if gathered, mend they our condition?</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;What delight can these afford the dead?</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Chase no more the phantom of the dreaming—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Weary is the hunt, the capture vain;</p>
-<p class='line0'>When thy arms embrace the golden seeming,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;It will vanish from thy grasp again.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Trouble not thy heart with anxious carings—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thou art but a shadow—so are they;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Let the things of Heaven deserve thy darings,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;They alone will never pass away.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk112'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='with'></a>WITH THEE.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY MRS. C. H. W. ESLING.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>With</span> thee, at dewy morn where e’er I wander,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Are my fond thoughts—still close to thee they cling;</p>
-<p class='line0'>O’er each departed hour they love to ponder,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That, pass’d with thee, seem’d like the hours of spring.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Yes—every vanish’d joy is like a treasure</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Glean’d from the mighty casket of the past,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Dearer than low-breathed music’s echoed measure,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;When its soft spell around our souls is cast.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>With thee at noon, when summer winds are stealing</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thro’ the green leaves in harp-tones rich and sweet,</p>
-<p class='line0'>On the bright sward in lowly homage kneeling,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With thee my prayers—my prayers of fondness meet.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>What tho’ mine eye thro’ dreary distance faileth</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In its deep search to hail thy welcome form?</p>
-<p class='line0'>What tho’ my cheek thro’ long, long watching fadeth,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And my sad heart leaps not so freshly warm?</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Still unto thee no eyes beam brighter lustre,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;No vermeil cheeks thy early love’s outshine;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Around no heart do richer feelings cluster,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Than swell in that which is so wholly thine.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Why do I mourn that mountain billows sever?</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Vain may they strive our spirits to divide,</p>
-<p class='line0'>For am I not, mine own one, with thee ever?</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;E’en as thou art forever at my side.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk113'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='wicc'></a>WICCÓNSAT.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>A LEGEND OF ST. MARY’S.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY MRS. MARY M. FORD.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>On</span> the eastern bank of a small river, which enters
-the Potomac a few miles above its confluence with
-the waters of the Chesapeake Bay, are still to be
-seen vestiges of the earliest settlement in Maryland;
-once the village of Youcómaco, but quietly yielded
-by the natives to the white colonists, who there built
-a town, calling it St. Mary’s. Subsequent events led
-to its desertion for a more advantageous location, and
-the ravages of time have left little to tell of its former
-state. It has faded away, unnoticed and unsung, yet
-its name is still seen on the older maps of our country.
-The river, which once bore the appellation of St.
-George’s, is now called St. Mary’s, but whether in
-memory of the deserted town, or not, is uncertain.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Ruins are happily so scarce in our young and
-thriving republic, that the simple legend which gives
-a name to my story, may awaken some interest among
-those, to whose imaginations the solitary remains of
-the past seem to speak in the breathings of the winds
-that sweep over their ruins. The circumstances
-which led to its narration, by one who had heard it
-in the mother country, and in whose family its
-memory had been handed down, were as follows:—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many years ago, as the last lingering sunbeams
-were fading from the sky, giving place to the mellow
-twilight; and a ruddy tinge was on the bosom of the
-waters, where the little river of St. Mary’s mingled
-its tributary stream with the waves of the broad
-Potomac; a small vessel had just anchored within
-the mouth of the former river, on which is established
-a port of entry. The craft seemed awaiting the boarding
-officer, who, at a point further up the river, was
-just entering his boat. He appeared very young, and,
-from the open gaiety of his fine countenance, seemed
-to enjoy corresponding lightness of heart. He raised
-a small telescope to his eye, and exclaimed to the two
-colored men who were loosening the boat—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It must be a Yankee schooner; be quick Basil!
-Luke!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aye, aye, Massa Frank,” replied Luke, “all
-ready—that’s an eastern craft, sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The light barge was soon on the waves, and the
-youth took the helm, while the strong arm of his
-companions were engaged with the oars.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The visitors approached the vessel’s side almost
-unperceived; and when the young officer ascended to
-its deck, he found the captain anxiously absorbed in
-examining an old map, which was spread out before
-him. The expression of his weather-beaten face, as
-he raised it to return the salutation of his visitor,
-showed evident signs of being puzzled.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where are you from?” inquired the landsman.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“From Plymouth.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What cargo?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, a good many notions, of which you will
-know presently.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And whither bound?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why that’s what I’m looking for on this old map,
-for I see nothing like it on shore; aye, here it is, St.
-Mary’s, the town of St. Mary’s, sir.”<a id='r2'/><a href='#f2' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[2]</span></sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There is no such town in the state, sir,” replied
-the youth, “this river and the county bear that name;
-there is some mistake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Massa captain clear out for de county,” said Basil,
-grinning.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“De boss lose his reckoning dis time,” rejoined
-Luke.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be more respectful, and return to the boat,” said
-the young officer, checking their glee; then turning
-to the captain, he continued, “This map is an old
-one; there was formerly a town named St. Mary on
-this river—it was the first settlement in the state,
-and built in the time of the Calverts, but it has passed
-away and been forgotten for a century.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The disappointed face of the mariner was not the
-only one agitated by the news. The sailors belonging
-to the vessel had joined the group, and their rough
-appearance was strongly contrasted with the tall and
-elegant figure of a passenger, who had been drawn by
-the conversation from the cabin, and now stood leaning
-against the companion way.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The young Marylander, who had not before perceived
-the stranger, thought, as he returned his
-salutation, that he had seldom looked on a countenance
-so interesting. It was youthful, but there was
-a shade of melancholy on the fine features, which,
-however, served only to confine, not hide the flashes
-of an enthusiastic spirit, which glanced from his full
-dark eye.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We are out of soundings, Mr. Egerton,” said the
-captain, “I might as well have cleared out for a port
-in the moon.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The fault was mine, sir,” replied the person called
-Egerton, “and I regret having thus led you astray;”
-then, turning to the young American, he continued,
-“The disappointment is also great to me, sir, for the
-haven we sought was the home of my forefathers. I
-am a stranger in this country, having lately arrived
-from England. On landing at Plymouth I found this
-schooner loading for a southern port—and, wishing
-to visit Maryland immediately, I induced this worthy
-but too obliging man to bring the cargo hither. The
-silence of history has left the annals of Maryland so
-much in the shadow, that a foreigner feels doubtful
-whether a literal construction should be put on the
-desertion of a town, particularly when your port of
-entry also bears the name of St. Mary’s.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well,” interrupted the captain, smiling, “don’t
-feel uneasy about me, for the cargo is of that accommodating
-nature which will suit another town as well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The customary business was soon despatched, and
-the officer was leaving the vessel, but his eye lingered
-on the interesting stranger. There was something in
-his appearance that won his heart, and, after a moment’s
-hesitation he thus spoke.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This seems to have been your place of destination,
-Mr. Egerton. Will you excuse the blunt freedom
-of an American, if I ask you to accompany me
-to the shore? My uncle’s dwelling is in sight. I act
-as his deputy in official business, but with much more
-pleasure I use another privilege, and tender you the
-hospitalities of his roof. Although the town, the
-principal object of your visit, is no more, yet if you
-can content yourself a few days with us, you can explore
-the ruins. Oakford is the name of my uncle. I
-bear the same, with the simple addition of Frank.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The stranger caught his offered hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I feel grateful for your kindness,—the ruins!
-did you say? It would indeed be a gratification to
-view them—I will, with pleasure, avail myself of
-your polite invitation; the ruins! are they extensive?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no,” replied young Oakford, smiling, “there
-are but few relics left by time and weather—some
-remains of walls and foundations—but the most interesting
-are the ruins of an ancient church—among
-whose dilapidated pews a respectable audience of
-weeds have accumulated.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Weeds, growing in the holy temple of my fathers!
-what a sublime yet sad subject for reflection! I must
-see them!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The young American again smiled at his companion’s
-enthusiasm; and, as the shadows of evening
-were fast closing around them, he hurried his new
-friend in his preparations to leave the vessel. The
-good-natured captain declined an invitation to accompany
-them, as he had made arrangements to continue
-his voyage farther—and, cordially shaking the hand
-of his departing passenger, refused to receive any
-extra compensation for the trouble occasioned. The
-rough, but kind-hearted sailors also refused, but the
-generous feelings of the young man were not to be
-checked thus, and he forced into their unwilling hands
-the expression of his thanks, as he took a kind leave
-of them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Darkness had veiled the landscape when the boat
-reached the shore, and the warm-hearted Marylander,
-drawing the arm of the young stranger within his, hurried
-him up the long avenue leading to the mansion,
-assuring him that his uncle would be as much gratified
-as himself by this acquisition to their society.
-“So, feel perfectly at ease, for we southerners use
-very little ceremony.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The event proved it so, for Col. Oakford, a fine
-looking man, just past the meridian of life, received
-him with that easy politeness and frank cordiality of
-manner which relieved him from all embarrassment.
-He soon discovered that his guest possessed high
-literary attainments—and, enjoying those advantages
-himself, the conversation became interesting,
-and they parted at the hour of rest, mutually pleased
-with each other.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The next morning arose in clouds and rain. “No
-<span class='it'>ruins</span> to-day,” said the young Briton, as they met in
-the breakfast room. But, although the weather prevented
-any outward excursion, a well filled library
-offered a pleasing substitute.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Young hearts soon assimilate, and friendships in
-early life are quickly formed—hence, when the sun
-at last broke through the clouds, on the evening of
-the third day, the two youths felt on terms of intimacy
-and attachment. On the fourth morning, the
-lively Frank aroused his friend before sunrise, to
-view, what he imagined must be to him, a novel and
-imposing sight. They descended to the open piazza,
-and young Egerton looked around in vain to discover
-the woods, the hill, the river; all was enveloped in a
-thick fog, and had the appearance of a surrounding
-lake. At this moment the sun rose, and the vapor
-broke on the bosom of the stream.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See,” said Frank, “the river is throwing off his
-night robes—observe how gracefully he rolls and
-folds them.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Huge white sheets of vapor were indeed majestically
-receding down the current; others floated like
-snow wreaths on the hills of the opposite shore—the
-green sides of which, were at intervals visible through
-the breaking mist, and seemed struggling beneath its
-might. In gradual succession the forests and dwellings
-of men appeared, and in a few minutes this
-atmospheric envelope was lost in the increasing
-warmth of the sun’s beams.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How singular and beautiful,” said the stranger.
-“Is it often thus?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very frequently; at some seasons each morning
-renews the scene; but you are not very robust, and
-must be content to view it seldom, for this recreation
-is far from healthy. The poets of your native isle
-may sing of ‘walks at early dawn, through dewy
-meads,’ but such strolls would make a short life
-here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On entering the parlor they met the Colonel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What think you of the night bath which these
-lowlands take?” said he, smiling.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That the morning effect is beautiful,” replied
-Egerton, “but the whole must be injurious to health.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are right, it is ever so to strangers, but we,
-who are sons of the mist, fear no harm from our native
-atmosphere. Yet do not think this characteristic of
-our general climate. On the contrary, the northern
-states, with their rock-bound sea coasts, have a clear
-bracing atmosphere; the middle states, also, with
-their varied surface of mountain and valley, and most
-parts of the southern, are equally healthy. Our own
-upper counties, and the neighboring inlands, or forest
-places, as we term them, are not sickly. It is only
-where the land is low, and as bountifully supplied
-with bays, inlets and streams as here, that this effect
-takes place; but see, ‘aunt Nora’ waits with the
-breakfast.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The aged colored housekeeper, called by this familiar
-appellation, had been the faithful nurse of the
-Colonel’s infancy, and, in return, was treated by him
-with great kindness. She was busied at a little table,
-in a corner of the room, from which she despatched,
-by the younger hands of her grandson, Luke, to a
-larger table in the centre of the apartment, the fine
-coffee, and more solid comforts of a Maryland breakfast,
-of which the young friends hastily partook, and
-then made arrangements for their visit to the <span class='it'>ruins</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The boat was soon in readiness, and they set out,
-accompanied by Basil and Luke. As the light bark
-glided along the shore, Frank pointed out several
-places endeared by the recollections of his childhood.
-Through an opening in the trees peeped the unobtrusive
-walls dedicated to country learning, with its
-play ground, so often the scene of his boyish gambols,
-and its clear spring under the shade of a sycamore
-near the river, where a solitary cow was now
-stooping to drink.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See, Frank,” cried his friend, “she is profaning
-your Helicon fount!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nay, let her drink, Egerton,” he replied, “for, as
-she is not likely to draw more romantic inspiration
-than <span class='it'>I</span> did from its waters, the spring will lose none
-of its power from her draught.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But you have gained what is worth more, sentiments
-pure and disinterested, with a mind happy and
-free. ’Tis true, you seldom make reminiscences—but,
-if you were like me, an orphan, and a native of a
-clime where, at every step, you meet some relic of
-the past, you would feel differently. Your country
-has but a short path to retrace, and is too young to
-boast of olden days.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And yet,” replied Frank, archly smiling, “there
-were times to which we might refer, as equal to any
-that shed glory on ancient chivalry.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Granted, and the treasure they left you may well
-render you careless of other relics.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Many thanks for your liberality, my dear friend,”
-said Frank, “and now for the <span class='it'>ruins</span>.” As he spoke,
-the direction of the boat was changed, and they swiftly
-crossed the river. Egerton sprang first on land, and
-was soon deeply engaged in examination, but found
-Frank’s words too true. Time and weather had
-indeed been ruthless ravagers; besides, it appeared
-that many materials had been removed, perhaps to
-repair the cottages of the neighboring poor. But
-some remains of what seemed to have been the walls
-of a large store house, part of an embankment where
-once had stood a fort, pits filled with rubbish, which
-had been cellars, and crumbled walls, with here and
-there a fallen chimney, gave melancholy testimony to
-the change. Nor had the church met a better fate.
-The broken in roof still clung to the shattered wall on
-one side only, and hung like a dark banner, half suspended
-over the desolation below; the decayed floor
-had descended into the mournful cemetery beneath,
-leaving some of the baseless seats clinging to the side
-wall. Weeds, too, were there, whose flowers seemed
-to bloom in mockery. In the sad home of the buried
-dead all was confusion, broken tombs, and heaps of
-rubbish. The young Briton sat down on a fragment
-of the ruined wall, and Frank shared in the melancholy
-of his friend, as they viewed the desolate scene.
-Egerton at length broke silence. “You have, no
-doubt, wondered at the deep interest I feel with regard
-to these ruins. Many circumstances have led
-to it, particularly a little tale related to me by a
-maiden aunt, to which I listened with great delight
-in childhood; and when, in after years, I was deprived
-of my beloved parents, I would sometimes
-beguile my sorrows by a recurrence to its sad remembrance.
-Thus it became more interesting to
-me, and I soon felt a desire to visit the location of
-scenes so connected with my family, and with the
-fate of an Indian chief of the Youcómaco tribe, called
-Wiccónsat, the principal subject of the legend. If it
-will give you any pleasure, I will relate it while we
-rest on these sad ruins.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Really, my dear friend,” replied Frank, “I feel
-almost as sentimental as yourself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then I will take advantage of your serious mood
-and commence my simple tale.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Among the early settlers at St. Mary’s, were the
-parents of Rosalie Egerton. She was an only daughter
-and beautiful. An accomplished mother had
-taught her many things of which few other females
-of the colony could boast. She accompanied her
-harp with the songs of distant lands, and with her
-needle embroidered scenes from the old world. Yet
-she loved to wander amidst the wild grandeur of her
-native forests, accompanied only by her little brother,
-for the neighboring Indians were harmless and
-friendly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wiccónsat was the son of an aged chief of the
-Youcómacoes. He was tall and elegantly formed,
-and straight as an arrow from his quiver. Mild and
-contemplative, he became a favorite among the settlers,
-from whom he learned not only to read and
-write, but many of their useful arts. But he had listened
-to the breathings of Rosalie’s harp, as he lingered
-near her dwelling, and had gazed after her fair
-form, as she wandered in the forest, until the Indian’s
-life had lost all charms for him. The smile of happy
-youth had fled, and when he sought his father’s wigwam,
-his eye was sad and restless. The old chief
-saw with sorrow the change.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘A spell hath come o’er thee, Wiccónsat,’ he
-kindly said; ‘my son is no longer the same. When
-in childhood I first saw thy little hands bend the
-bow, I fondly thought thou would’st rival the hunting
-fame of thy father, and, when age had weakened my
-strength, should danger threaten our tribe, thou
-would’st head the chiefs in combat. The locks of
-Orrouiska are now gray, and his hand feeble. The
-supplies of his wigwam are scanty, for his son lingers
-among the better habitations of strangers. But
-I know thy secret. Thy hopeless love is placed on
-the fairest of the white fawns, one as far above thy
-reach as was the rainbow of yesterday. For though
-the son of a once powerful chief, the poorest of the
-pale faces would reject thy alliance. Then arouse
-thee, Wiccónsat, and despise their pride. The Great
-Spirit made us all equal, and the brightest of our Indian
-maidens would be proud of thy love. If thou
-dost prefer the plough of the white man to the bow of
-the hunter, ’tis well, but turn the furrow in thy own
-fields.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The youth answered not, but with a deep sigh,
-taking his quiver full of arrows, went out to the
-chase. He wandered on through the forest, forgetful
-of his first intention, until he found himself near the
-river’s bank, and by the dwelling of Rosalie, and
-soon beheld the maiden, with her little brother, in a
-small boat, which they had contrived to move out a
-few yards into the deep water. As she arose to
-reach some blossoms from the overhanging trees, her
-balance was lost, and she fell into the stream. In a
-moment the young Indian had plunged in to her relief,
-and bore her in safety to the bank. The cries
-of her brother had alarmed the family, who hurried
-to the river, and Wiccónsat, yielding his lovely burthen
-to her parents’ arms, hastened to escape from
-their grateful acknowledgments, to enjoy in solitude
-the delightful feelings that crowded his heart. It
-seemed a new era in his existence, and fairy dreams
-floated in his imagination. With buoyant and unwearied
-footsteps he pursued the chase, and returned
-to his father’s cabin loaded with the choicest game,
-the reward of his toil.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Come, dear Oskwena,’ said he to his young sister,
-who ran to welcome him, ‘prepare a feast for
-our father, while I dress these skins, to make a softer
-couch for his aged limbs.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Gladly, brother,’ she replied, ‘but hast thou
-brought me any beads or ornaments from the colony?’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘No, thou art too good and comely to need these
-trifles. Thy lover will prize thee more without
-them.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Thou art mistaken, brother, for Potawissa loves
-to see my dark hair braided with beads, and their
-bright strings encircling my neck. Thy talk will do
-for the white fawns, with their cheeks like the wild
-rose and foreheads like the mountain snow; but the
-darker hue of Indian maids wants other ornaments.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Thou hast well described the white fawns, sister,’
-answered the young chief, ‘and shalt indeed
-have a gay necklace; but thou hast never heard the
-song of her who is brightest among them. Why the
-blest sounds on the air, which are said to call our
-fathers to the spirit-land on high, are not sweeter.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Hush, hush,’ cried Oskwena, ‘how canst thou
-talk thus? I would not hear her strain, for it hath
-sadly altered thee.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The bright visions of Wiccónsat were soon dispelled,
-for, with the next vessel from England, arrived
-a young relative of Rosalie’s family, who
-brought news of their having succeeded to an estate
-in their native country, to take possession of which
-they now made preparations to leave America. The
-charms of the maiden made an immediate impression
-on the heart of the young and accomplished Briton.
-His amiable qualities soon won her love, and, with
-the approval of her parents, it was arranged that
-their marriage should take place on their arrival in
-England.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The sad intelligence soon reached Wiccónsat, to
-whom the grateful family had shown many marks of
-attachment, little suspecting the sorrows they were
-preparing for the youthful chief. They knew not
-the secret homage of his heart, for its trembling
-hopes had never been breathed to the beautiful object
-of his love. In the innocence of grateful friendship,
-she presented him with an embroidered belt
-worked by her own hands, and assured him that she
-would never forget her generous preserver.—But
-when the day of their departure had arrived, and
-sorrowful friends crowded the vessel’s deck to take
-their last farewell, Wiccónsat was not there. Rosalie
-and her parents shed tears of regret, as the sails were
-spreading to waft them from their happy American
-home, and as their eyes sought its peaceful roof, they
-discovered near it, on a point of the river’s shore, the
-solitary figure of the young chief. It was at this
-spot he had rescued the maiden from a watery grave.
-She eagerly waved her white handkerchief in token
-of farewell, and the next moment saw the belt she
-had given him, floating on the air in a returning
-adieu. In a few minutes the vessel parted from the
-shore.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Many years after this, an interesting youth, accompanied
-by his tutor, arrived at St. Mary’s, from
-England. I know not in what state they found the
-town, but the youth’s first inquiries were for an Indian
-chief, called Wiccónsat, who had in early years
-saved the life of his mother. He was shown a lonely
-wigwam, on a point near the river. James Egerton,
-for it was my great grandfather, took an early
-opportunity of visiting it, but first inquired into the
-present character of its inmate. ‘He is mild and
-peaceful,’ said his informant, ‘and is sometimes called
-the Indian Hermit, for he seldom appears abroad
-except when hunting or fishing. He has lived thus
-for many years, is always melancholy, and dislikes
-the visits of the curious: ’Tis thought some misfortune
-in his youth has led him to prefer solitude.’—Thus
-informed, the young James proceeded to the
-river’s side. From description, he knew where had
-stood the home of his mother’s children, but sighed
-to perceive it in ruins, and leaning on a fragment of
-the broken wall, plucked a leaf from the vine that
-still clung to it, then, with lingering footsteps, sought
-the point. Seated on a rustic bench at the door of the
-cabin was a figure which he knew must be the chief,
-for he raised his tall, majestic form, and advanced to
-meet him, but paused suddenly, and gazed earnestly
-and inquiringly on his face.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The youth felt abashed, but with some effort
-addressed him: ‘Excuse this intrusion, good chief;
-I am the son of her, whose life you once saved.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The recluse caught his offered hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And art thou indeed her child? oh! yes, that
-eye, that smile had awoke my memory before you
-spoke. Welcome art thou to the desolate Wiccónsat.’
-After some conversation, the youth drew from
-his bosom two small books, richly bound, and presented
-them as tokens of remembrance from his mother.
-The chief pressed them to his lips. ‘These will
-beguile many lonely hours, but, oh! hadst thou but
-brought me one lock of her hair. It was the colour
-of thine,’ he added, as he passed his hand over the
-rich brown curls of the son of Rosalie. ‘Alas! good
-chief,’ he replied, ‘sorrow, rather than time, has
-robbed those locks of their beauty. Death has bereaved
-my beloved mother of her parents and of several
-children. I alone survive.’ ‘And can sorrow
-reach one so good? Then why should I repine?—From
-this point, dear boy, I saw thy mother and her
-parents depart, and here I raised my lonely habitation.
-For years, I indulged the vain hope of their
-return, and whenever I saw a large vessel enter the
-river, I silently mingled with the crowd on the shore.
-But wearied hope has long since fled, memory alone
-remains.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And yet you may again behold my parents, for
-it is their intention to visit Maryland in a short time.’
-Surprise and joy beamed in the countenance of the
-Indian, and from that hour he continued cheerful, but
-his greatest present enjoyment arose from the frequent
-visits of his young friend, to whom he daily
-became more attached. ’Tis true, the tutor of James
-disapproved of his spending so much time with one
-whom he considered an untutored savage, but the
-warm-hearted boy knew his Indian favorite to be
-possessed of pure and lofty principles, with noble and
-generous feelings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wiccónsat now mingled once more with the white
-inhabitants, and pointed out to the inquiring youth
-whatever was interesting. The remains of the Indian
-village were still visible, and the few chiefs that
-visited the town still fondly called it Youcómico.
-But their tribe had removed to a greater distance,
-and there was now little communication between
-them and the colonists.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Several months elapsed and the time drew near
-when the young Briton expected once more to embrace
-his parents. They had informed him, by letter,
-of their intention to embark on board the Huntress,
-which would sail in two weeks, and nearly a
-month had passed since the reception of this letter.
-It was probable then, that they were near the American
-coast.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Here the narrator paused.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why do you not proceed?” asked Frank.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because I think it will be better to finish the story
-as we return. It grows late, and I wish to gather
-some little remembrance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From various parts of the ruins he now selected
-something to carry with him, and was loading Basil
-and Luke with similar trophies, who appeared to
-place little value on them, as they dropped some at
-every step. At length they returned to the boat, in
-which they deposited the cumbrous relics, and left
-the shore. But a new object excited the curiosity of
-Egerton, and, with a look of entreaty, he turned to
-his friend.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You have been very patient and kind, dear Frank,
-and now we are in the boat, let us go a little further
-up the river! That point above must be the spot on
-which stood the wigwam of Wiccónsat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You will find it a difficult matter to prove that,”
-returned Frank, “however, we will go.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It’s a good place for fishing,” said Basil, “and
-we have a line.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The first object that struck their view on landing
-at the point, was a collection of half decayed boards.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See here! conviction strong!” cried the delighted
-Egerton.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nonsense,” said Frank, “they are the remains
-of some old fishing hut or flat boat. Indian wigwams
-are not made of boards.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How incredulous you are,” returned his friend.
-“Surely the melancholy chief had been long enough
-among white men to adopt their materials.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Very well, shall we load the boat with them as
-relics?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are jesting; but I should really like to rebuild
-it, if we had time. Where are Basil and Luke?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“More profitably employed—fishing; but we will
-return in a day or two, and try whether a wigwam
-can be made of it.” The young Briton had seated
-himself on one of the boards, and seemed lost in contemplation,
-while Frank quietly withdrew to see the
-luck of the fishers—who, in the meantime, had not
-forgotten the two youths, but, in their simple phrase,
-were discussing the point at issue:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, Old Nora could tell him plenty about the
-Ingens,” said Basil, “for her grandmother told her,
-and she saw a power of ’em in her time—but he only
-seems to care about one—and I can’t say I ever
-heard Nora go over such a strange name as that.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They were smart, them chiefs, in their time,”
-observed Luke, “for they say our folks learned to
-make the canoes from ’em, and I’d put ’em against
-any boat that swims.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But they won’t hold much of a crew, Luke, let
-alone passengers, and as there’s four of us, and a
-heavy load of Massa Egerton’s nelics, as he calls
-them; besides, it’s lucky we’ve got something bigger
-to float home in.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Their angling had not been very successful in the
-short time they had engaged in it, and at Frank’s
-request, the boat was again put in readiness for their
-departure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Once more on the water, Frank reminded his friend
-of the promised conclusion of his story.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thought you had forgotten it,” replied Egerton,
-smiling, “but I will with pleasure gratify you. I
-believe we left my ancestor expecting the early arrival
-of his parents at St. Mary’s, and I will now proceed
-to give you the other portion of the legend.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“One evening, after his usual visit to the wigwam,
-James was slowly returning to his lodgings. Lost in
-thought, he did not at first perceive that heavy clouds
-were gathering in the sky, but the sudden darkness
-made him quicken his pace.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘You are late this evening, Master James,’ said
-his tutor, as he met him at the door, ‘you waste a
-great deal of time with that wild Indian, and I am
-glad your parents are coming to take charge of you.’
-‘I am glad too,’ thought his pupil, but he did not say
-so, and soon after retired to rest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The sleep of innocent youth is ever sound, and a
-severe storm which arose had been raging some time
-before it broke his deep slumber.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He started from his pillow, and his first thoughts
-were fears for his parents’ safety. The wind roared
-fearfully, and the rain beat in torrents against his
-chamber window. He looked out on the thick darkness
-that obscured every object, and his heart sunk
-within him at the dreary view. Overcome with the
-distress of his feelings, he leaned against the casement,
-and gave vent to the friendly tears that often
-relieve the sadness of boyhood. Suddenly a faint
-and distant flash of light broke through the gloom.
-It was gone, but a sound followed which, even amid
-the howling of the storm, could not be mistaken. It
-struck on the ear of the weeping boy, with startling
-certainty.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘It is, oh! yes, it is a signal gun of distress, oh!
-my mother! my father!’ and sinking on his knees,
-he breathed an agonized prayer for their safety, then
-starting to his feet, he hastily threw on his clothes,
-and hurried down stairs without knowing his object.
-The house stood near the river, and on opening the
-door he saw some person moving along the bank. He
-approached; it was the chief. ‘Is it you, Wiccónsat?
-oh! what a night!’ The Indian pressed his hand in
-gloomy silence, and stood in a listening attitude, with
-his face turned towards that part of the horizon from
-whence the flash had appeared. Another gleamed
-across the dismal night, and the sullen peal that followed,
-fell, like the bolt of death, on their hearts.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘It is a call for aid,’ exclaimed the chief, ‘and
-perhaps thy mother’s life is in danger.’ ‘And my
-father’s too,’ added the shuddering boy. ‘Alas!
-Wiccónsat, what can we do?’ ‘I follow that light,’
-he answered, as the flash of another minute gun
-shone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Oh! take me then with you, good chief, leave
-me not here in suspense!’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Alas! my boy, this stormy night ill suits thy
-tender frame. Wait thou till morning breaks, then
-thou canst follow with some of the townsmen. The
-light seems near the mouth of the Potomac.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Who speaks below,’ said the tutor’s voice from
-the window; ‘surely, Master James, you are not out
-on such a night?’ ‘Indeed I am,’ replied the youth,
-‘there is a vessel in distress, it may be the Huntress,
-in which my parents are expected; surely I cannot
-sleep now.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Well, well, if that’s the case, it’s bad enough,
-but I think it’s not probable; however, I’ll be down
-directly.’ By this time several of the neighbours had
-joined them, and they determined to proceed in the
-supposed direction of the vessel. By the first dawn
-of light they found themselves on the shore of the
-Potomac river, near its entrance into the Chesapeake
-Bay. The rain had ceased, and daylight, as it broke
-from the clouded east, shewed to their anxious gaze,
-a dismasted vessel, which appeared in a wrecked and
-sinking state. Two boats, crowded with the crew
-and passengers, were seen contending with the raging
-waves, endeavouring to reach the land. Some water
-casks which had been washed on shore, were eagerly
-examined by the distressed James, to discover the
-name of the vessel. It met his eye, and with a cry of
-terror he threw himself into the arms of the Indian.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘It is the Huntress! oh! Wiccónsat! my parents
-will be lost!’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Hast thou no confidence in the Great Being thy
-mother worships?’ he softly said, as he pressed him
-to his breast, but his eye was fairly fixed on one of the
-boats, in which he thought he could distinguish the
-garments of a female. The foaming waters seemed
-to threaten instant destruction to the frail barques, as
-they tost from wave to wave, sometimes half hid in
-the surf that broke over them. At this moment a
-mingled cry reached the shore, and but one boat was
-seen, the other was ’whelmed beneath the waters.
-Wiccónsat broke from the clinging arms of the youth,
-and plunged into the waves. For some time he was
-lost to their view, but his strong and sinewy arms
-forced a passage to the scene of distress, and in a short
-time he was seen returning, supporting, with one arm,
-the form of a female. The young James, who had
-been forcibly withheld from following, now rushed to
-meet him, and Rosalie (for it was she) opened her
-eyes to be clasped to the bosom of her son. She lived,
-she breathed, and the first word that trembled on her
-lips was the name of her husband. Scarcely had she
-spoken, ere the generous chief had again thrown
-himself into the waves. But his strength was exhausted
-by previous exertion, and when, with difficulty,
-he had nearly reached the overturned boat to
-which the husband of Rosalie, with others, now clung,
-a floating piece of the ship’s mast struck him on the
-temple. In the mean time, the other boat had safely
-landed its crew, and was despatched to the aid of the
-sufferers, who were all, with the exception of two,
-saved.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rosalie had been conveyed to the nearest house,
-and restoratives were applied, which soon brought
-her to a state of recollection. She recognized with
-joy, the form of her husband, as he knelt by the side
-of her couch, and pressed, with a mother’s fondness,
-the hand of her affectionate son. But her eyes wandered
-around the room as if in search of another object.
-‘It was a dream then,’ she murmured, ‘it was
-not his, but thy dear arm that drew thy mother from
-the waves.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Alas! no, it was he, the generous and the good,’
-replied her son.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Wiccónsat! brave chief! but why those looks of
-anguish; is this, my son, a time for sorrow, when
-Heaven has been so kind? And my preserver, where
-lingers he?’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Where his bright virtues will be best rewarded,’
-replied her husband, solemnly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘What mean you? Surely he is safe.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘He perished in an attempt to save my life.’ She
-heard no more, for she had fainted in the arms of her
-son, and it was long ere she revived, to mingle with
-theirs her tears of unavailing regret.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“In the afternoon the body of the generous Indian
-was washed on shore. With every mark of respect
-it was conveyed to the town, and preparations made
-for its interment on the following day at the point, in
-a spot once pointed out, by the chief, to young Egerton.
-The grief of this affectionate boy burst without
-restraint, as he leaned over the body of his departed
-friend, and his tears flowed afresh, when he was
-shown a folded paper, which had been found in his
-bosom. It was wet through, and contained the faded
-belt, the treasured gift of Rosalie.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Intelligence of the sad event was conveyed to the
-sister of the chief, and the next day, accompanied by
-her husband and sons, and several warriors of the
-Youcómaco tribe, Oskwena arrived, just as the funeral
-procession was moving to the grave. Time had
-altered this once beautiful daughter of the forest;
-there was a mildness in her look of grief, as she left
-the canoe, and led by her two sons, approached the
-open grave, where, seating herself by its side, she silently
-awaited the mournful train that bore her brother
-to his last home. She uttered a faint cry as her
-eye rested on the coffin, and her whole frame shook
-with agitation, when it was lowered from her sight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The chiefs arranged themselves in gloomy silence
-around the grave of him, who, in early youth, had
-been the boast of their tribe, and heard, rather than
-listened, to the funeral service. It was scarcely ended,
-when the hitherto restrained grief of Oskwena
-burst forth. She tore from her dishevelled locks the
-rude ornaments of her tribe, scattering them on the
-ground, but a necklace of beads she retained in her
-hand, and wept bitterly as she looked on it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘It was thy gift, Wiccónsat,’ said the mourner,
-‘thy face glowed with youth and hope on the happy
-day thou gavest it. Our aged father blessed his children,
-for he had not then passed to the spirit-land
-above. The beads are bright yet, but thou art faded
-and gone. I can gaze on them no more, they shall
-be hid with thee,’ and she dropped them into the
-grave. The spectators looked on her with pity and
-disturbed her not, as in a low voice she chaunted a
-wild funeral melody. When she ceased, several young
-maidens of St. Mary’s, arrayed in white, approached,
-and scattered flowers around the grave. The oldest
-son of Oskwena stood, with his father, among the
-chiefs. To him the beauty of the white maidens was
-new, for he had never before been allowed to visit the
-town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Who are they?’ he asked, eagerly leaning forward,
-but then the stern Potawissa drew him back, as
-he replied in a low voice, ‘It matters not, it is enough
-that they cannot be aught to thee. Look not on
-their fatal beauty, but let that lonely grave warn thee
-of danger. It was hopeless love for a pale face like
-theirs, that induced thy mother’s brother to forsake
-the tribe that idolized him; to lead a life of solitude,
-and at last to perish for her sake. And now he sleeps
-not with the bones of his fathers, and the talk of the
-white man is heard by his grave, instead of the bold
-death song of our chiefs. Nay, thou art gazing still;
-turn from them boy,’ and suddenly drawing him
-round, he held him firmly until the fair group had retired.
-A faint shriek from Oskwena drew his attention.
-He saw the attendants were filling up the grave,
-and hastened to remove her sinking form. In a few
-minutes the crowd had dispersed, the chiefs again
-entered their boats, and young Egerton, with his father,
-alone remained on the silent shore.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The family remained but a short time in Maryland,
-for the health of Rosalie had sustained a shock
-from which it never recovered. She faded before the
-agonized view of her husband and son, and died shortly
-after their return to England. As one of their
-descendants, I have long wished to visit the scene of
-their sorrows, and in doing so, I have formed a friendship
-which, believe me, dear Frank, will always be
-cherished in my heart. The kind hospitality of your
-good uncle made me forget I was a stranger, and
-though we must part in a few days, time or distance
-will never erase the remembrance of my American
-friends.”</p>
-
-<hr class='footnotemark'/>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_2'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f2'><a href='#r2'>[2]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A fact.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk114'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='sonn'></a>SONNETS.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY HENRY B. HIRST.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;GERTRUDE.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>There is a sweet expression in thy face,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;My gentle one! leading the thoughts away</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;From earthliness, and this vile orb of clay,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Bidding my spirit in its yearnings trace</p>
-<p class='line0'>Something immortal in the beauties there!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;I do not worship loveliness—but look</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;On woman’s face, as on a speaking book,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where God hath stamped his image clear and fair!</p>
-<p class='line0'>And thine is one so radiant of him,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;So calm and pure, one cannot fail to see</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Such purity of soul portrayed in thee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>That other faces by thy side grow dim,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And, bowing down unto thy brighter worth,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;I deem thee one too fair and chaste for earth!</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;IANTHE.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>High thoughts are chiseled on that lofty brow!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Proud consciousness of virtue in thy smile!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thy cheeks, the blush of, speaks thee free from guile;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thine eyes have in their spiritual flow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>A dignity and grandeur, and a glow</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Which lift the gazer’s spirit up on high,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;As soars the eagle to the sun-lit sky!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thou art a thing to worship! and I throw</p>
-<p class='line0'>My soaring spirit conquered at thy feet,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;But not to beauty, tho’ ’tis unsurpassed,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;But to the wealth of intellect ’tis cast;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Deeming the earth beneath the proudest seat,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where I would sit, and on perfection gaze,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Sunning my soul beneath thine eyes’ soft rays!</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk115'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='moon'></a>THE MOONLIGHT FLITTING;</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>OR, THE MISTAKE.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY ELIZA VAN HORN ELLIS.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>CHAPTER I.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> moon shone serenely clear over hill and dale,
-her silver rays playing on the dull gray earth with
-sportive fancy, while not a zephyr seemed upon the
-wing, and all nature slumbered in the stillness of a
-warm summer evening, when, from one of the neat
-white cottages of the village of ——, issued two
-figures, completely enveloped in cloaks, notwithstanding
-the thermometer stood at nearly ninety.
-Not a word was spoken, but with stealthy steps they
-chased their shadows along the silent streets for a
-good half mile; although twice or thrice one of the
-figures paused and heaved convulsively, whether
-from lack of breath or agitation seemed doubtful.
-At length they stopped before a cottage, whose proximity
-to the church bespoke the <span class='it'>parsonage</span>; a light
-twinkled through the casement; the muffled fugitives
-rapt gently at the door; it was opened, and
-they entered.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The old moss-grown church clock had just proclaimed,
-in solemn tones, the hour of nine, on the
-next morning, when two ladies, whose looks bespoke
-them far upon the road of <span class='it'>time</span>—clad in black silk
-bonnets and mitts—came slowly down the streets,
-shaded by the spreading elms. These good gossips
-appeared deeply engaged in conversation, looking so
-intently into each other’s face, that sundry fowls,
-young pigs, and small dogs miraculously escaped a
-sudden and violent death.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can you believe it yet, Mrs. Potts?” cried the
-lesser of the two ladies; “such a reflection upon our
-quiet village—good gracious and powers! preserve
-us from such assurance.” Thus saying, she rolled
-up the balls of her eyes, and clasped her hands together
-with pious fervor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not only that, my dear Miss Clapper, but such
-an example to the daughters of the place!” and Mrs.
-Potts sighed, as she thought of her six damsels, who
-still remained in single blessedness, notwithstanding
-the many little innocent manœuvres to which mammas
-will sometimes have recourse.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, indeed, it behoves you, Mrs. Potts, to keep
-a sharp look-out. Will you visit her—the good-for-naught?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“W-e-ll, what do you think about it? If <span class='it'>we</span> cut
-her all the village will. What say you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To be sure, to be sure, that’s true; her place in
-society depends upon <span class='it'>us</span>, my dear. She gives such
-pleasant parties, such excellent soft waffles, and then
-one meets sometimes such agreeable people from the
-city there, which gives the girls a chance, you know,
-(winking knowingly,) that it would be a pity to
-throw her off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I agree with you, my dear Miss Clapper—and—after
-all, she’s honestly married, although she stole
-away, like a thief in the night.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Suppose we just stop and ask Katy a few questions.
-May be they wish to keep it a secret. Here
-we are by the house—shall we stop?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have no objections, my dear; but you’ll get nothing
-out of that piece of sour-crout.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I’ll pump her; leave me alone for <span class='it'>that</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Accordingly the two loving, neighborly gossips
-rapt at the door of the white cottage from whence
-had stolen forth the fugitives the night previous.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The loud knock announced the aristocracy of the
-village; the door opened, and the sharp bluish features
-of Katy filled up the aperture. Her small
-<span class='it'>gravy</span> eyes blinked for a moment when she beheld
-the visitors; the next Katy stood the personification
-of gravity.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, Katy,” cried Miss Clapper, in her most
-dulcet tones, “how <span class='it'>do</span> you do this fine morn? all
-well, I hope,” making an effort to open wider the
-door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, yes, Miss; a very fine morning, and we
-are all well, thanks be to goodness,” answered Katy,
-holding the door still closer, and protruding her nose
-still farther, so that the sudden slam of the door
-would have deprived that venerable spinster of that
-most conspicuous of all features, a <span class='it'>red nose</span>. “Sorry
-I can’t ask you both in—but nobody’s home.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah! so, then, it’s true, what we heard this morning,”
-said Mrs. Potts.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can’t say, indeed, Marm, as I don’t know what
-you might have heard.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! only that your mistress ran off last night
-and was married, and went away this morning in the
-village hack,” almost screamed Miss Clapper.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And so my mistress <span class='it'>is</span> married, and I know
-some that would like to be in her shoes, if they could
-but get the chance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, well, Katy, no offence is meant,” cried
-Mrs. Potts; “when will the bride be home?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“She bade me tell you, Marm, and Miss Clapper,
-(and she wants you to tell the village) that on Thursday
-evening the doors will be thrown open and the
-candles lighted, and you will see <span class='it'>her</span> and <span class='it'>plenty</span> of
-wedding cake and good wine.” Thus saying, she
-gently closed the door.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“So! it’s no secret after all,” cried Mrs. Potts;
-“Katy made no bones at confession.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No! the old she devil! how I hate that creature—she
-always <span class='it'>Miss-es</span> one so—never calls me
-any thing but <span class='it'>Miss</span>!—<span class='it'>Miss!</span>—She shan’t read it
-on my tomb-stone, if I can help it,” muttered <span class='it'>Miss</span>
-Clapper.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Faithfully did these village circulars perform their
-agreeable task. Before the sun sank to rest, every
-individual, from the lady of the member of the legislature
-to the shoe-black in the inn, had heard the
-news, and had formed dreams of the coming event.
-The bride and bride-cake—beaux and belles, had
-been reviewed in the mind’s eye o’er and o’er again.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;'>——</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>CHAPTER II.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When a young man, Mr. Hopkins arrived upon the
-spot where now stands the village of ——, with his
-bundle upon his stick, his sole fortune. He became
-what may be termed a squatter. It was then a dreary
-waste of girdled trees, and patches covered with
-black stumps. But his untiring perseverance and
-systematic industry were rewarded in time by beholding,
-from his cottage door, the fields of waving corn
-and the golden wheat, where once lurked the savage
-and prowled the ravenous beast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In course of time, the place became settled; the
-present village sprang into existence; Mr. Hopkins
-“grew with its growth, and strengthened with its
-strength;” in short, Mr. Hopkins became a rich man,
-and consequently a man of consequence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Hopkins (poor good soul) died ere she could
-enjoy the wealth that her patient labors had assisted
-her husband in accumulating. She left one daughter,
-christened Dinah, and two sons. Upon the death of
-the “old man,” the sons moved to a strange land,
-(that is, about a hundred miles from their native
-vale.) Miss Dinah, or rather Diana, as she chose to
-be called, after the immortal Die Vernon, remained
-upon the “old place,” to uphold, as she properly said,
-the dignity of the Hopkinses.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Thus years wore away. Miss Die became the
-tyrant of fashion in her own village. She read
-Shakspeare, doated on Byron, and was subdued by
-Sir Walter Scott’s works. She languished and quoted
-poetry for nearly forty years. In youth, she
-scorned the rustic beaux that kneeled at her shrine;
-and, as years sped onward, none “bowed nor told
-their tale of love,” until, at length, Miss Die began
-seriously to think of a visit to her brothers, when the
-kind <span class='it'>fates</span> brought Mr. Micalf to the village, and
-there left him to the mercy of Cupid.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The <span class='it'>major</span> (as he was familiarly called) was rather
-short of stature, with an alderman’s corpulency,—famous
-for his good-nature, intolerable indolence, and
-devotion to whiskey-punch and the noxious weed.
-Being asthmatic, he seldom had recourse to any exertion—a
-long walk would cause him to puff and
-blow at least for a minute, ere he could catch breath
-to utter a word. Still Mr. Micalf found breath enough
-to become a successful wooer—and Miss Die persuaded
-her swain to elope with her by moonlight, as
-she could never survive the stare of the plebeians by
-the light of “gaudy day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It ever remained a doubt in the village, what was
-the exact age of the major. Many were of an opinion
-that sixty winters had frosted his brow. Others again
-asserted that he did not number, by a score, as many
-years as his bride. These latter, however, were the
-ladies.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Thursday arrived—and, after a weary watching
-from many a beaming eye, the sun at length disappeared
-behind the distant mountains, and twilight
-gently threw over the glowing sky its mantle of sombre
-gray. Lights flitted to and fro through the
-houses; an unusual bustle hummed through the quiet
-streets; the horses, disturbed after a day of labor,
-to be brought forth and harnessed to whatever vehicle
-their masters could boast of possessing, hung
-down their weary heads, with slow and measured
-steps patiently submitting to the yoke of bondage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sudden glare of lights, that streamed through
-the casements of the white cottage over the gravel
-walks, announced that preparations had ceased, and
-that visitors were momentarily expected.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was the bride, her tall gaunt figure arrayed
-in white, flitting from room to room, not knowing
-where to station herself to make the best impression,
-and inwardly chafing at the perfume of tobacco
-that met her olfactory nerves, and the loss of her
-reticule, wherein were the keys of sundry closets
-and so forth, when the door opened and Mr., Mrs.,
-and the four Misses Potts, with Miss Clapper, beheld
-the bride upon knees and hands, looking under an immense
-old-fashioned settee for her lost treasure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Micalf looked up, sprang to her feet, uttered
-a faint scream, and for a moment hid her face—then
-yielded her cheek to the salutations of the six ladies,
-and with much coyness permitted Mr. Potts to touch
-the tip of her ear.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, I declare, I think you served us a pretty
-trick, Mrs. Micalf—a lady of your years to make a
-moonlight flitting—oh, fie!” cried Miss Clapper, in
-a querulous voice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, spare me, dear friends; I feel the full force
-of the imprudence of the step. But be this my excuse,
-‘I’ve scanned the actions of his daily life,’ and
-flatter myself I have secured happiness.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And Mr. Micalf to steal away so—he who hates
-walking so. Why, I thought it would almost have
-killed him to walk so far.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are right, old lady,” cried the groom, who
-had entered unperceived, and slapping Miss Clapper
-upon the shoulder; “I can’t believe it yet; I haven’t
-drawn a long breath since—wheugh!—But Die
-would not be married any other way, though I told
-her we were making a couple of old fools of ourselves—wheugh—u—u—Never
-mind, Die, don’t be
-cast down at being called old—we all know you were
-young once! ha, ha! wheugh—u! Come, Potts,
-let’s go and drink good luck to midnight walks.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Micalf is so boisterous when he is in good
-spirits, and he does so love to plague me!” cried the
-bride, the quivering of her nostrils and upper lip expressing
-the workings of the inward passions.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Knock succeeded knock, and the influx of visitors,
-with the oft-repeated “wish you joy, wish you joy,”
-soon restored harmony to the spirits of the bride,
-who was in extacies at the crowd that had gathered
-around her. She quoted poetry, right and left; forgot,
-for the moment, that tobacco and punch existed;
-and some assert that even the major was forgotten!
-That was but scandal, however. Nevertheless, the
-major enjoyed seven pipes and five tumblers of punch,
-without once hearing the sound of Die’s voice; a
-luxury which, in the warmth of his feelings he solemnly
-whispered to Potts, had not been permitted
-him since his moonlight trip.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The hours sped onward—the merry laugh that
-rang so loud and clear from the midst of a group of
-young folks who were playing “hunt the slipper,”
-“my lady’s toilette,” &amp;c. caused the heads of the
-matrons to turn from each other in high displeasure
-at the interruption of some tale of scandal!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The happiest moments, still the fleetest!—the
-hour arrived—the guests departed, and the mistress
-of the <span class='it'>fairy</span> scene began to wonder what had become
-of her lord. Looking through the empty rooms,
-peering in every corner by the aid of a feeble night-lamp,
-and almost suffocated with the vapor of candle-snuff,
-she was startled by the sonorous notes from
-her husband’s nasal organ. “I do believe the ass
-has gone to bed,” she mentally ejaculated. Rushing
-into her room, she beheld the head of the major, with
-his blue and white night-cap snugly resting upon her
-fine linen <span class='it'>day</span> pillow-cases. Jerking the pillows from
-under the offending head, she screamed:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Major! why, Micalf, you are sleeping upon my
-beautiful cases with real thread-lace borders!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bless me, what is the matter? Is the house on
-fire? O Lord, I smell smoke—fire!—fire!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do be quiet now, and don’t make a fool of yourself;
-it’s only the pillow I wanted.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Die! is that you? You have frightened the
-very life out of me. Give me something to put under
-my head; my neck is almost broke.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There, my dear, is the night pillow. Now, never
-presume to go to bed again, until the cover is turned
-down and the day cases removed, and—bless me,
-how you have tossed the bed! Why, major, major,
-are you asleep already?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What is it, for heaven’s sake? Am I never to
-know what rest is again?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But, my dear—major, I say, shall I tuck you up
-snugly?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No! the devil! I don’t want to be reminded of
-my coffin every night by being tucked up,” and away
-went the clothes from the foot and side. “Oh, how
-I wish——” groaned the major, as Mrs. Micalf again
-patiently smoothed them down. The wish died upon
-his tongue, but it was embodied in his dreams:—Once
-more he was the quiet possessor of the snug
-little room, and no less snug little bed, at the “Full
-Moon,” the atmosphere dense with tobacco-smoke
-and the vapor of whiskey-punch regaling his nose—when
-the shrill, sharp voice of his help-meet, at dawn
-of day, dispelled the illusion, and, with the sun, he
-arose with the comfortable thought that he was not
-the only being that had sold peace and happiness for
-<span class='it'>gold</span>. And, ere the honey-moon had expired, Mr.
-and Mrs. Micalf began to perceive that they had
-made a great mistake in their moonlight flitting.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk116'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='nev'></a>I NEVER HAVE BEEN FALSE TO THEE.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>A NEW SONG.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY GEORGE P. MORRIS.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>I never</span> have been false to thee!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The heart I gave thee still is thine;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Though thou hast been untrue to me,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And I no more may call thee mine!</p>
-<p class='line0'>I’ve loved, as woman ever loves,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With constant soul in good or ill:—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thou’st proved, as man too often proves,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;A rover—but I love thee still!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Yet think not that my spirit stoops</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To bind thee captive in my train!—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Love’s not a flower, at sunset droops,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;But smiles when comes her god again!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thy words, which fall unheeded now,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Could once my heart-strings madly thrill!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Love’s golden chain and burning vow</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Are broken—but I love thee still!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Once what a heaven of bliss was ours,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;When love dispelled the clouds of care,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And time went by with birds and flowers,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;While song and incense filled the air!—</p>
-<p class='line0'>The past is mine—the present thine—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Should thoughts of me thy future fill,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Think what a destiny is mine,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To lose—but love thee, false one, still!</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk117'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='auto'></a>A CHAPTER ON AUTOGRAPHY.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i076.jpg' alt='Signature of Edgar A. Poe' id='iid-0004' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Under this head, some years ago, there appeared,
-in the Southern Literary Messenger, an article which
-attracted very general attention, not less from the
-nature of its subject than from the peculiar manner
-in which it was handled. The editor introduces his
-readers to a certain Mr. Joseph Miller, who, it is
-hinted, is not merely a descendant of the illustrious
-Joe, of Jest-Book notoriety, but that identical individual
-in proper person. Upon this point, however,
-an air of uncertainty is thrown by means of an equivoque,
-maintained throughout the paper, in respect
-to Mr. Miller’s middle name. This equivoque is put
-into the mouth of Mr. M. himself. He gives his
-name, in the first instance, as Joseph A. Miller; but,
-in the course of conversation, shifts it to Joseph B.,
-then to Joseph C., and so on through the whole alphabet,
-until he concludes by desiring a copy of the
-Magazine to be sent to his address as Joseph Z.
-Miller, Esquire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The object of his visit to the editor is to place
-in his hands the autographs of certain distinguished
-American <span class='it'>literati</span>. To these persons he had written
-rigmarole letters on various topics, and in all cases
-had been successful in eliciting a reply. The replies
-only (which it is scarcely necessary to say are all
-fictitious) are given in the Magazine, with a genuine
-autograph fac-simile appended, and are either burlesques
-of the supposed writer’s usual style, or rendered
-otherwise absurd by reference to the nonsensical
-questions imagined to have been propounded by
-Mr. Miller. The autographs thus given are twenty-six
-in all—corresponding to the twenty-six variations
-in the initial letter of the hoaxer’s middle name.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With the public this article took amazingly well,
-and many of our principal papers were at the expense
-of re-printing it with the wood-cut autographs. Even
-those whose names had been introduced, and whose
-style had been burlesqued, took the joke, generally
-speaking, in good part. Some of them were at a loss
-what to make of the matter. Dr. W. E. Channing,
-of Boston, was at some trouble, it is said, in calling
-to mind whether he had or had not actually written
-to some Mr. Joseph Miller the letter attributed to
-him in the article. This letter was nothing more
-than what follows:—</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;'><span class='sc'>Boston</span>, ——.</p>
-
-<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Dear Sir</span>,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>No such person as Philip Philpot has ever been in
-my employ as a coachman, or otherwise. The name
-is an odd one, and not likely to be forgotten. The
-man must have reference to some other Doctor Channing.
-It would be as well to question him closely.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:4em;margin-top:0.5em;'>Respectfully yours,</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;margin-top:0.25em;'>W. E. CHANNING.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:1em;margin-top:0.5em;'>To <span class='sc'>Joseph X. Miller</span>, Esq.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The precise and brief sententiousness of the divine
-is here, it will be seen, very truly adopted, or “hit off.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In one instance only was the <span class='it'>jeu-d’esprit</span> taken in
-serious dudgeon. Colonel Stone and the Messenger
-had not been upon the best of terms. Some one of
-the Colonel’s little brochures had been severely
-treated by that journal, which declared that the
-work would have been far more properly published
-among the quack advertisements in a spare corner
-of the Commercial. The colonel had retaliated by
-wholesale vituperation of the Messenger. This being
-the state of affairs, it was not to be wondered at
-that the following epistle was not quietly received on
-the part of him to whom it was attributed:—</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, ——.</p>
-
-<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Dear Sir</span>,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I am exceedingly and excessively sorry that it is
-out of my power to comply with your rational and
-reasonable request. The subject you mention is one
-with which I am utterly unacquainted. Moreover it
-is one about which I know very little.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:4em;margin-top:0.5em;'>Respectfully,</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;margin-top:0.25em;'>W. L. STONE.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:1em;margin-top:0.5em;'><span class='sc'>Joseph V. Miller</span>, Esq.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>These tautologies and anti-climaces were too much
-for the colonel, and we are ashamed to say that he
-committed himself by publishing in the Commercial
-an indignant denial of ever having indited such an
-epistle.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The principal feature of this autograph article,
-although perhaps the least interesting, was that
-of the editorial comment upon the supposed MSS.,
-regarding them as indicative of character. In these
-comments the design was never more than semi-serious.
-At times, too, the writer was evidently led
-into error or injustice through the desire of being
-pungent—not unfrequently sacrificing truth for the
-sake of a <span class='it'>bon-mot</span>. In this manner qualities were
-often attributed to individuals, which were not so
-much indicated by their hand-writing, as suggested
-by the spleen of the commentator. But that a strong
-analogy <span class='it'>does</span> generally and naturally exist between
-every man’s chirography and character, will be denied
-by none but the unreflecting. It is not our purpose,
-however, to enter into the <span class='it'>philosophy</span> of this
-subject, either in this portion of the present paper,
-or in the abstract. What we may have to say will
-be introduced elsewhere, and in connection with particular
-MSS. The practical application of the theory
-will thus go hand in hand with the theory itself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Our design is three-fold:—In the first place, seriously
-to illustrate our position that the mental features
-are indicated (with certain exceptions) by the
-hand-writing; secondly, to indulge in a little literary
-gossip; and, thirdly, to furnish our readers with a
-more accurate and at the same time a more general
-collection of the autographs of our <span class='it'>literati</span> than is to
-be found elsewhere. Of the first portion of this design
-we have already spoken. The second speaks
-for itself. Of the third it is only necessary to say
-that we are confident of its interest for all lovers of
-literature. Next to the person of a distinguished
-man-of-letters, we desire to see his portrait—next
-to his portrait, his autograph. In the latter, especially,
-there is something which seems to bring him
-before us in his true idiosyncrasy—in his character
-of <span class='it'>scribe</span>. The feeling which prompts to the collection
-of autographs is a natural and rational one. But
-complete, or even extensive collections, are beyond
-the reach of those who themselves do not dabble in
-the waters of literature. The writer of this article
-has had opportunities, in this way, enjoyed by few.
-The MSS. now lying before him are a motley mass
-indeed. Here are letters, or other compositions, from
-every individual in America who has the slightest
-pretension to literary celebrity. From these we propose
-to select the most eminent names—as to give
-<span class='it'>all</span> would be a work of supererogation. Unquestionably,
-among those whose claims we are forced to
-postpone, are several whose high <span class='it'>merit</span> might justly
-demand a different treatment; but the rule applicable
-in a case like this seems to be that of celebrity,
-rather than that of true worth. It will be understood
-that, in the necessity of selection which circumstances
-impose upon us, we confine ourselves <span class='it'>to the
-most noted among the living literati of the country</span>.
-The article above alluded to, embraced, as we have
-already stated, only twenty-six names, and was not
-occupied <span class='it'>exclusively</span> either with living persons, or,
-properly speaking, with literary ones. In fact the
-whole paper seemed to acknowledge no law beyond
-that of whim. Our present essay will be found to
-include <span class='it'>one hundred autographs</span>. We have thought
-it unnecessary to preserve any particular order in
-their arrangement.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk118'/>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i080.jpg' alt='Signature of Chas (Charles) Anthon' id='iid-0005' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Professor <span class='sc'>Charles Anthon</span>, of Columbia College,
-New York, is well known as the most erudite of our
-classical scholars; and, although still a young man,
-there are few, if any, even in Europe, who surpass
-him in his peculiar path of knowledge. In England
-his supremacy has been tacitly acknowledged by the
-immediate re-publication of his editions of Cæsar,
-Sallust, and Cicero, with other works, and their adoption
-as text-books at Oxford and Cambridge. His
-amplification of Lemprière did him high honor, but,
-of late, has been entirely superseded by a Classical
-Dictionary of his own—a work most remarkable for
-the extent and comprehensiveness of its details, as
-well as for its historical, chronological, mythological,
-and philological <span class='it'>accuracy</span>. It has at once completely
-overshadowed every thing of its kind. It
-follows, as a matter of course, that Mr. Anthon has
-many little enemies, among the inditers of merely
-big books. He has not been unassailed, yet has assuredly
-remained uninjured in the estimation of all
-those whose opinion he would be likely to value.
-We do not mean to say that he is altogether without
-faults, but a certain antique Johnsonism of style is
-perhaps one of his worst. He was mainly instrumental
-(with Professor Henry and Dr. Hawks) in
-setting on foot the New York Review, a journal of
-which he is the most efficient literary support, and
-whose most erudite papers have always been furnished
-by his pen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The chirography of Professor Anthon is the most
-regularly beautiful of any in our collection. We see
-the most scrupulous precision, finish, and neatness
-about every portion of it—in the formation of individual
-letters, as well as in the <span class='it'>tout-ensemble</span>. The
-perfect symmetry of the MS. gives it, to a casual
-glance, the appearance of Italic print. The lines are
-quite straight, and at exactly equal distances, yet
-are written without black rules, or other artificial aid.
-There is not the slightest superfluity, in the way of
-flourish or otherwise, with the exception of the twirl
-in the C of the signature. Yet the whole is rather
-neat and graceful than forcible. Of four letters now
-lying before us, one is written on pink, one on a faint
-blue, one on green, and one on yellow paper—all of
-the finest quality. The seal is of green wax, with
-an impression of the head of Cæsar.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is in the chirography of such men as Professor
-Anthon that we look with certainty for indication of
-character. The life of a scholar is mostly undisturbed
-by those adventitious events which distort the
-natural disposition of the man of the world, preventing
-his real nature from manifesting itself in his MS.
-The lawyer, who, pressed for time, is often forced to
-embody a world of heterogeneous memoranda, on
-scraps of paper, with the stumps of all varieties of
-pen, will soon find the fair characters of his boyhood
-degenerate into hieroglyphics which would puzzle
-Doctor Wallis or Champollion; and from chirography
-so disturbed it is nearly impossible to decide
-any thing. In a similar manner, men who pass
-through many striking vicissitudes of life, acquire in
-each change of circumstance a temporary inflection
-of the hand-writing; the whole resulting, after many
-years, in an unformed or variable MS., scarcely to be
-recognised by themselves from one day to the other.
-In the case of literary men generally, we may expect
-some decisive token of the mental influence upon the
-MS., and in the instance of the classical devotee we
-may look with <span class='it'>especial</span> certainty for such token. We
-see, accordingly, in Professor Anthon’s autography,
-each and all of the known idiosyncrasies of his taste
-and intellect. We recognise at once the scrupulous
-precision and finish of his scholarship and of his
-style—the love of elegance which prompts him to
-surround himself, in his private study, with gems of
-sculptural art, and beautifully bound volumes, all
-arranged with elaborate attention to form, and in the
-very pedantry of neatness. We perceive, too, the
-disdain of superfluous embellishment which distinguishes
-his compilations, and which gives to their
-exterior appearance so marked an air of Quakerism.
-We must not forget to observe that the “want of
-force” is a want as perceptible in the whole character
-of the man, as in that of the MS.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk119'/>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i084.jpg' alt='Signature of Washington Irving' id='iid-0006' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The MS. of Mr. <span class='sc'>Irving</span> has little about it indicative
-of his genius. Certainly, no one could suspect from
-it any nice <span class='it'>finish</span> in the writer’s compositions; nor is
-this nice finish to be found. The letters now before
-us vary remarkably in appearance; and those of late
-date are not nearly so well written as the more antique.
-Mr. Irving has travelled much, has seen many
-vicissitudes, and has been so thoroughly satiated with
-fame as to grow slovenly in the performance of his
-literary tasks. This slovenliness has affected his
-hand-writing. But even from his earlier MSS. there
-is little to be gleaned, except the ideas of simplicity
-and precision. It must be admitted, however, that
-this fact, in itself, is characteristic of the literary
-manner, which, however excellent, has no prominent
-or very remarkable features.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk120'/>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i085.jpg' alt='Signature of Park Benjamin' id='iid-0007' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For the last six or seven years, few men have occupied
-a more desirable position among us than Mr.
-<span class='sc'>Benjamin</span>. As the editor of the American Monthly
-Magazine, of the New Yorker, and more lately of
-the Signal, and New World, he has exerted an influence
-scarcely second to that of any editor in the
-country. This influence Mr. B. owes to no single
-cause, but to his combined ability, activity, causticity,
-fearlessness, and independence. We use the
-latter term, however, with some mental reservation.
-The editor of the World is independent so far as the
-word implies unshaken resolution to follow the bent
-of one’s own will, let the consequences be what they
-may. He is no respecter of persons, and his vituperation
-as often assails the powerful as the powerless—indeed
-the latter fall rarely under his censure.
-But we cannot call his independence, at all times,
-that of principle. We can never be sure that he will
-defend a cause merely because it is the cause of
-truth—or even because he regards it as such. He is
-too frequently biassed by personal feelings—feelings
-now of friendship, and again of vindictiveness. He
-is a warm friend, and a bitter, but not implacable
-enemy. His judgment in literary matters should not
-be questioned, but there is some difficulty in getting
-at his real opinion. As a prose writer, his style is
-lucid, terse, and pungent. He is often witty, often
-cuttingly sarcastic, but seldom humorous. He frequently
-injures the force of his fiercest attacks by an
-indulgence in merely vituperative epithets. As a
-poet, he is entitled to far higher consideration than
-that in which he is ordinarily held. He is skilful and
-passionate, as well as imaginative. His sonnets have
-not been surpassed. In short, it is as a poet that his
-better genius is evinced—it is in poetry that his
-noble spirit breaks forth, showing what the man is,
-and what, but for unhappy circumstances, he would
-invariably appear.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Benjamin’s MS. is not very dissimilar to
-Mr. Irving’s, and, like his, it has no doubt been
-greatly modified by the excitements of life, and by
-the necessity of writing much and hastily; so that
-we can predicate but little respecting it. It speaks
-of his exquisite sensibility and passion. These betray
-themselves in the nervous variation of the MS. as
-the subject is diversified. When the theme is an ordinary
-one, the writing is legible and has force; but
-when it verges upon any thing which may be supposed
-to excite, we see the characters falter as they
-proceed. In the MSS. of some of his best poems
-this peculiarity is very remarkable. The signature
-conveys the idea of his <span class='it'>usual</span> chirography.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i087.jpg' alt='Signature of John P. Kennedy' id='iid-0008' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Kennedy</span> is well known as the author of
-“Swallow Barn,” “Horse-Shoe Robinson,” and “Rob
-of the Bowl,” three works whose features are strongly
-and decidedly marked. These features are boldness
-and force of thought, (disdaining ordinary embellishment,
-and depending for its effect upon masses
-rather than upon details) with a predominant <span class='it'>sense
-of the picturesque</span> pervading and giving color to the
-whole. His “Swallow Barn,” in especial (and it is
-by the first effort of an author that we form the truest
-idea of his mental bias), is but a rich succession of
-picturesque still-life pieces. Mr. Kennedy is well to
-do in the world, and has always taken the world
-easily. We may therefore expect to find in his chirography,
-if ever in any, a full indication of the chief
-feature of his literary style—especially as this chief
-feature is so remarkably prominent. A glance at his
-signature will convince any one that the indication
-is to be found. A painter called upon to designate
-the main peculiarity of this MS. would speak at once
-of the <span class='it'>picturesque</span>. This character is given it by the
-absence of hair-strokes, and by the abrupt termination
-of every letter without tapering; also in great
-measure by varying the size and slope of the letters.
-Great uniformity is preserved in the whole air of the
-MS., with great variety in the constituent parts.
-Every character has the clearness, boldness and precision
-of a wood-cut. The long letters do not rise or
-fall in an undue degree above the others. Upon the
-whole, this is a hand which pleases us much, although
-its <span class='it'>bizarrerie</span> is rather too piquant for the general
-taste. Should its writer devote himself more exclusively
-to light letters, we predict his future eminence.
-The paper on which our epistles are written is very
-fine, clear, and <span class='it'>white</span>, with gilt edges. The seal is
-neat, and just sufficient wax has been used for the
-impression. All this betokens a love of the elegant
-without effeminacy.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i089.jpg' alt='Signature of G: Mellen' id='iid-0009' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The hand-writing of <span class='sc'>Grenville Mellen</span> is somewhat
-peculiar, and partakes largely of the character of
-his signature as seen above. The whole is highly indicative
-of the poet’s flighty, hyper-fanciful character,
-with his unsettled and often erroneous ideas of the
-beautiful. His straining after effect is well paralleled
-in the formation of the preposterous G in the
-signature, with the two dots by its side. Mr. Mellen
-has genius unquestionably, but there is something
-in his temperament which obscures it.<a id='r3'/><a href='#f3' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[3]</span></sup></a></p>
-
-<hr class='footnotemark'/>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_3'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f3'><a href='#r3'>[3]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Since this article was prepared for the press, we have been grieved to hear of the death of Mr. Mellen.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i089b.jpg' alt='Signature of J K Paulding' id='iid-0010' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>No correct notion of Mr. <span class='sc'>Paulding’s</span> literary peculiarities
-can be obtained from an inspection of his
-MS., which, no doubt, has been strongly modified by
-adventitious circumstances. His small <span class='it'>a</span>s, <span class='it'>t</span>s, and
-<span class='it'>c</span>s are all alike, and the style of the characters generally
-is French, although the entire MS. has much
-the appearance of Greek text. The paper which he
-ordinarily uses is of a very fine glossy texture, and
-of a blue tint, with gilt edges. His signature is a
-good specimen of his general hand.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i090a.jpg' alt='Signature of L. H. Sigourney' id='iid-0011' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. <span class='sc'>Sigourney</span> seems to take much pains with her
-MSS. Apparently she employs <span class='it'>black lines</span>. Every
-<span class='it'>t</span> is crossed, and every <span class='it'>i</span> dotted, with precision, while
-the punctuation is faultless. Yet the whole has nothing
-of effeminacy or formality. The individual
-characters are large, well and freely formed, and
-preserve a perfect uniformity throughout. Something
-in her hand-writing puts us in mind of Mr. Paulding’s.
-In both MSS. perfect regularity exists, and
-in both the style is <span class='it'>formed</span> or <span class='it'>decided</span>. Both are
-beautiful; yet Mrs. Sigourney’s is the most legible,
-and Mr. Paulding’s nearly the most illegible in the
-world. From that of Mrs. S. we might easily form
-a true estimate of her compositions. Freedom, dignity,
-precision, and grace, without originality, may
-be properly attributed to her. She has fine taste,
-without genius. Her paper is usually good—the seal
-small, of green and gold wax, and without impression.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i090b.jpg' alt='Signature of Robert Walsh' id='iid-0012' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Walsh’s</span> MS. is peculiar, from its large, sprawling
-and irregular appearance—rather rotund than
-angular. It always seems to have been hurriedly
-written. The <span class='it'>t</span>s are crossed with a sweeping scratch
-of the pen, which gives to his epistles a somewhat
-droll appearance. A <span class='it'>dictatorial</span> air pervades the
-whole. His paper is of ordinary quality. His seal
-is commonly of brown wax mingled with gold, and
-bears a Latin motto, of which only the words <span class='it'>trans</span>
-and <span class='it'>mortuus</span> are legible.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Walsh cannot be denied talent; but his reputation,
-which has been bolstered into being by a
-<span class='it'>clique</span>, is not a thing to live. A blustering self-conceit
-betrays itself in his chirography, which upon
-the whole, is not very dissimilar to that of Mr. E.
-Everett, of whom we shall speak hereafter.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i091.jpg' alt='Signature of J H Ingraham' id='iid-0013' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Ingraham</span>, or Ingrahame, (for he writes his
-name sometimes with, and sometimes without the <span class='it'>e</span>,)
-is one of our most <span class='it'>popular</span> novelists, if not one of our
-best. He appeals always to the taste of the ultra-romanticists,
-(as a matter, we believe, rather of pecuniary
-policy than of choice) and thus is obnoxious to
-the charge of a certain cut-and-thrust, blue-fire, melodramaticism.
-Still, he is capable of better things. His
-chirography is very unequal; at times, sufficiently
-clear and flowing, at others, shockingly scratchy and
-uncouth. From it nothing whatever can be predicated,
-except an uneasy vacillation of temper and of purpose.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i092a.jpg' alt='Signature of W C Bryant' id='iid-0014' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Bryant’s</span> MS. puts us entirely at fault. It is
-one of the most common-place clerk’s hands which
-we ever encountered, and has no character about it
-beyond that of the day-book and ledger. He writes,
-in short, what mercantile men and professional pen-men
-call a fair hand, but what artists would term an
-abominable one. Among its regular up and down
-strokes, waving lines and hair-lines, systematic taperings
-and flourishes, we look in vain for the force,
-polish, and decision of the poet. The <span class='it'>picturesque</span>,
-to be sure, is equally deficient in his chirography and
-in his poetical productions.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i092b.jpg' alt='Signature of Fitz-Greene Halleck' id='iid-0015' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Halleck’s</span> hand is strikingly indicative of his
-genius. We see in it some force, more grace, and
-little of the picturesque. There is a great deal of
-freedom about it, and his MSS. seem to be written
-<span class='it'>currente calamo</span>, but without hurry. His flourishes,
-which are not many, look as if thoughtfully planned,
-and deliberately, yet firmly executed. His paper is
-very good, and of a blueish tint—his seal of red wax.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i093a.jpg' alt='Signature of N. P. Willis.' id='iid-0016' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Willis</span>, when writing carefully, would write a
-hand nearly resembling that of Mr. Halleck; although
-no similarity is perceptible in the signatures. His
-usual chirography is dashing, free, and not ungraceful,
-but is sadly deficient in force and picturesqueness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It has been the fate of this gentleman to be alternately
-condemned <span class='it'>ad infinitum</span>, and lauded <span class='it'>ad nauseam</span>—a
-fact which speaks much in his praise. We
-know of no American writer who has evinced greater
-versatility of talent; that is to say, of high talent,
-often amounting to genius; and we know of none who
-has more narrowly missed placing himself at the head
-of our letters.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The paper of Mr. Willis’ epistles is always fine, and
-glossy. At present, he employs a somewhat large
-seal, with a dove, or carrier-pigeon, at the top, the
-word “Glenmary” at bottom, and the initials “N.
-P. W.” in the middle.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i093b.jpg' alt='Signature of Rufus Dawes' id='iid-0017' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Dawes</span> has been long known as a poet; but his
-claims are scarcely yet settled—his friends giving
-him rank with Bryant and Halleck, while his opponents
-treat his pretensions with contempt. The truth
-is, that the author of “Geraldine” and “Athenia of
-Damascus” has written occasional verses very well—so
-well, that some of his minor pieces may be considered
-equal to any of the minor pieces of either
-of the two gentlemen above-mentioned. His longer
-poems, however, will not bear examination. “Athenia
-of Damascus” is pompous nonsense, and “Geraldine”
-a most ridiculous imitation of Don Juan, in which
-the beauties of the original have been as sedulously
-avoided, as the blemishes have been blunderingly
-culled. In style, he is, perhaps, the most inflated,
-involved, and falsely-figurative, of any of our more
-noted poets. This defect, of course, is only fully
-appreciable in what are termed his “sustained efforts,”
-and thus his shorter pieces are often exceedingly
-good. His apparent erudition is mere verbiage,
-and, were it real, would be lamentably out of place
-where we see it. He seems to have been infected
-with a blind admiration of Coleridge—especially of
-his mysticism and cant.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i095.jpg' alt='Signature of Henry W. Longfellow' id='iid-0018' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>H. W. Longfellow</span>, (Professor of Moral Philosophy
-at Harvard,) is entitled to the first place among
-the poets of America—certainly to the first place
-among those who have put themselves prominently
-forth as poets. His good qualities are all of the highest
-order, while his sins are chiefly those of affectation
-and imitation—an imitation sometimes verging
-upon downright theft.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His MS. is remarkably good, and is fairly exemplified
-in the signature. We see here plain indications
-of the force, vigor, and glowing richness of his
-literary style; the deliberate and steady <span class='it'>finish</span> of
-his compositions. The man who writes thus may
-not accomplish much, but what he does, will always
-be thoroughly done. The main beauty, or at least
-one great beauty of his poetry, is that of <span class='it'>proportion</span>;
-another, is a freedom from extraneous embellishment.
-He oftener runs into affectation through his endeavors
-at simplicity, than through any other cause. Now
-this rigid simplicity and proportion are easily perceptible
-in the MS., which, altogether, is a very excellent
-one.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i096a.jpg' alt='Signature of J. Pierpont' id='iid-0019' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Rev. <span class='sc'>J. Pierpont</span>, who, of late, has attracted
-so much of the public attention, is one of the most
-accomplished poets in America. His “Airs of Palestine”
-is distinguished by the sweetness and vigor
-of its versification, and by the grace of its sentiments.
-Some of his shorter pieces are exceedingly terse and
-forcible, and none of our readers can have forgotten
-his Lines on Napoleon. His rhythm is at least equal
-in strength and modulation to that of any poet in
-America. Here he resembles Milman and Croly.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His chirography, nevertheless, indicates nothing
-beyond the common-place. It is an ordinary clerk’s
-hand—one which is met with more frequently than
-any other. It is decidedly <span class='it'>formed</span>; and we have no
-doubt that he <span class='it'>never</span> writes otherwise than thus. The
-MS. of his school-days has probably been persisted
-in to the last. If so, the fact is in full consonance
-with the steady precision of his style. The flourish
-at the end of the signature is but a part of the writer’s
-general enthusiasm.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i096b.jpg' alt='Signature of W. Gilmore Simms' id='iid-0020' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Simms</span> is the author of “Martin Faber,” “Atalantis,”
-“Guy Rivers,” “The Partisan,” “Mellichampe,”
-“The Yemassee,” “The Damsel of Darien,”
-“The Black Riders of the Congaree,” and one
-or two other productions, among which we must not
-forget to mention several fine poems. As a poet, indeed,
-we like him far better than as a novelist. His
-qualities in this latter respect <span class='it'>resemble</span> those of Mr.
-Kennedy, although he equals him in no particular,
-except in his appreciation of the graceful. In his
-sense of beauty he is Mr. K.’s superior, but falls behind
-him in force, and the other attributes of the author
-of Swallow Barn. These differences and resemblances
-are well shown in the MSS. That of Mr. S.
-has more slope, and more uniformity in detail, with
-less in the mass—while it has also less of the picturesque,
-although still much. The middle name is
-Gilm<span class='it'>o</span>re; in the cut it looks like Gilm<span class='it'>e</span>re.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i097.jpg' alt='Signature of O. A. Brownson' id='iid-0021' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Rev. <span class='sc'>Orestes A. Brownson</span> is chiefly known to
-the literary world as the editor of the “Boston Quarterly
-Review,” a work to which he contributes, each
-quarter, at least two-thirds of the matter. He has
-published little in book form—his principal works
-being “Charles Elwood,” and “New Views.” Of
-these, the former production is, in many respects,
-one of the highest merit. In logical accuracy, in comprehensiveness
-of thought, and in the evident frankness
-and desire for truth in which it is composed, we
-know of few theological treatises which can be compared
-with it. Its conclusion, however, bears about
-it a species of hesitation and inconsequence, which
-betray the fact that the writer has not altogether succeeded
-in convincing himself of those important truths
-which he is so anxious to impress upon his readers.
-We must bear in mind, however, that this is the fault
-of Mr. Brownson’s subject, and not of Mr. Brownson.
-However well a man may reason on the great topics
-of God and immortality, he will be forced to admit
-tacitly in the end, that God and immortality are things
-to be felt, rather than demonstrated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On subjects less indefinite, Mr. B. reasons with the
-calm and convincing force of a Combe. He is, in every
-respect, an extraordinary man, and with the more
-extensive resources which would have been afforded
-him by early education, could not have failed to bring
-about important results.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His MS. indicates, in the most striking manner,
-the unpretending simplicity, directness, and especially,
-the <span class='it'>indefatigability</span> of his mental character. His
-signature is more <span class='it'>petite</span> than his general chirography.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i099.jpg' alt='Signature of B. Tucker' id='iid-0022' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Judge <span class='sc'>Beverly Tucker</span>, of the College of William
-and Mary, Virginia, is the author of one of the
-best novels ever published in America—“George
-Balcombe”—although, for some reason, the book
-was never a popular favorite. It was, perhaps, somewhat
-too didactic for the general taste.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He has written a great deal, also, for the “Southern
-Literary Messenger” at different times; and, at
-one period, acted in part, if not altogether, as editor
-of that Magazine, which is indebted to him for some
-very racy articles, in the way of criticism especially.
-He is apt, however, to be led away by personal feelings,
-and is more given to vituperation for the mere
-sake of <span class='it'>point</span> or pungency, than is altogether consonant
-with his character as judge. Some five years
-ago there appeared in the “Messenger,” under the
-editorial head, an article on the subject of the “Pickwick
-Papers” and some other productions of Mr.
-Dickens. This article, which abounded in well-written
-but extravagant denunciation of everything
-composed by the author of “The Curiosity Shop,”
-and which prophesied his immediate downfall, we
-have reason to believe was from the pen of Judge
-Beverly Tucker. We take this opportunity of mentioning
-the subject, because the odium of the paper
-in question fell altogether upon our shoulders, and it
-is a burthen we are not disposed and never intended
-to bear. The review appeared in March, we think,
-and we had retired from the Messenger in the January
-preceding. About eighteen months previously,
-and when Mr. Dickens was scarcely known to the
-public at all, except as the author of some brief tales
-and essays, the writer of this article took occasion
-to predict, in the Messenger, and in the most emphatic
-manner, that high and just distinction which
-the author in question has attained. Judge Tucker’s
-MS. is diminutive, but neat and legible, and
-has much force and precision, with little of the
-picturesque. The care which he bestows upon his
-literary compositions makes itself manifest also in
-his chirography. The signature is more florid than
-general hand.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i101a.jpg' alt='Signature of John Sanderson' id='iid-0023' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Sanderson</span>, Professor of the Greek and Latin
-languages in the High School of Philadelphia, is well
-known as the author of a series of letters, entitled
-“The American in Paris.” These are distinguished
-by ease and vivacity of style, with occasional profundity
-of observation, and, above all, by the frequency of
-their illustrative anecdotes, and figures. In all these
-particulars, Professor Sanderson is the precise counterpart
-of Judge Beverly Tucker, author of “George
-Balcombe.” The MSS. of the two gentlemen are
-nearly identical. Both are neat, clear and legible.
-Mr. Sanderson’s is somewhat the more crowded.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i101b.jpg' alt='Signature of H. F. Gould.' id='iid-0024' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>About Miss <span class='sc'>Gould’s</span> MS. there is great neatness,
-picturesqueness, and finish, without over-effeminacy.
-The literary style of one who writes thus will always
-be remarkable for sententiousness and epigrammatism;
-and these are the leading features of Miss
-Gould’s poetry.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i102a.jpg' alt='Signature of C. S. Henry' id='iid-0025' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Prof. <span class='sc'>Henry</span>, of Bristol College, is chiefly known
-by his contributions to our Quarterlies, and as one of
-the originators of the New-York Review, in conjunction
-with Dr. Hawks and Professor Anthon. His
-chirography is now neat and picturesque, (much resembling
-that of Judge Tucker,) and now excessively
-scratchy, <span class='it'>clerky</span>, and slovenly—so that it is nearly
-impossible to say anything respecting it, except
-that it indicates a vacillating disposition, with unsettled
-ideas of the beautiful. None of his epistles,
-in regard to their chirography, end as well as they
-begin. This trait denotes <span class='it'>fatigability</span>. His signature,
-which is bold and decided, conveys not the faintest
-idea of the general MS.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i102b.jpg' alt='Signature of Emma C. Embury' id='iid-0026' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. <span class='sc'>Embury</span> is chiefly known by her contributions
-to the Periodicals of the country. She is one of the
-most nervous of our female writers, and is not destitute
-of originality—that rarest of all qualities in a
-woman, and especially in an American woman.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Her MS. evinces a strong disposition to fly off at
-a tangent from the old formulæ of the Boarding Academies.
-Both in it, and in her literary style, it would
-be well that she should no longer hesitate to discard
-the absurdities of mere fashion.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i103a.jpg' alt='Signature of Wm. Landor.' id='iid-0027' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Landor</span> acquired much reputation as the author
-of “Stanley,” a work which was warmly commended
-by the press throughout the country. He has also
-written many excellent papers for the Magazines.
-His chirography is usually <span class='it'>petite</span>, without hair-lines,
-close, and somewhat stiff. Many words are carefully
-erased. His epistles have always a rigorous formality
-about them. The whole is strongly indicative of
-his literary qualities. He is an elaborately careful,
-stiff, and pedantic writer, with much affectation and
-great talent. Should he devote himself ultimately
-to letters, he cannot fail of high success.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i103b.jpg' alt='Signature of Eliza Leslie' id='iid-0028' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Miss <span class='sc'>Leslie</span> is celebrated for the homely naturalness
-of her stories and for the broad satire of her
-comic style. She has written much for the Magazines.
-Her chirography is distinguished for neatness
-and finish, without over-effeminacy. It is rotund,
-and somewhat diminutive; the letters being separate,
-and the words always finished with an inward twirl.
-She is never particular about the quality of her paper
-or the other externals of epistolary correspondence.
-From her MSS. in general, we might suppose
-her solicitous rather about the effect of her compositions
-as a whole, than about the polishing of the
-constituent parts. There is much of the picturesque
-both in her chirography and in her literary style.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i104.jpg' alt='Signature of Joseph C. Neal' id='iid-0029' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Neal</span> has acquired a very extensive reputation
-through his “Charcoal Sketches,” a series of papers
-originally written for the “Saturday News,” of this
-city, and afterwards published in book form, with illustrations
-by Johnston. The whole design of the
-“Charcoal Sketches” may be stated as the depicting
-of the wharf and street <span class='it'>loafer</span>; but this design has
-been executed altogether in caricature. The extreme
-of burlesque runs throughout the work, which is, also,
-chargeable with a tedious repetition of slang and
-incident. The loafer always declaims the same nonsense,
-in the same style, gets drunk in the same way,
-and is taken to the watch-house after the same fashion.
-Reading one chapter of the book, we read all.
-Any single description would have been an original
-idea well executed, but the dose is repeated <span class='it'>ad nauseam</span>,
-and betrays a woful poverty of invention. The
-manner in which Mr. Neal’s book was belauded by
-his personal friends of the Philadelphia press, speaks
-little for their independence, or less for their taste.
-To dub the author of these “Charcoal Sketches”
-(which are really very excellent police-reports) with
-the title of “the American Boz,” is either outrageous
-nonsense, or malevolent irony.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In other respects, Mr. N. has evinced talents which
-cannot be questioned. He has conducted the “Pennsylvanian”
-with credit, and, as a political writer, he
-stands deservedly high. His MS. is simple and legible,
-with much space between the words. It has force,
-but little grace. Altogether, his chirography is good;
-but as he belongs to the editorial corps, it would not
-be just to suppose that any deductions, in respect to
-character, could be gleaned from it. His signature
-conveys the general MS. with accuracy.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i106a.jpg' alt='Signature of Seba Smith' id='iid-0030' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Seba Smith</span> has become somewhat widely celebrated
-as the author, in part, of the “Letters of Major
-Jack Downing.” These were very clever productions;
-coarse, but full of fun, wit, sarcasm and sense.
-Their manner rendered them exceedingly popular,
-until their success tempted into the field a host of
-brainless imitators. Mr. S. is also the author of several
-poems; among others, of “Powhatan, a Metrical
-Romance,” which we do not very particularly
-admire. His MS. is legible, and has much simplicity
-about it. At times it vacillates, and appears unformed.
-Upon the whole, it is much such a MS. as
-David Crockett wrote, and precisely such a one as we
-might imagine would be written by a <span class='it'>veritable</span> Jack
-Downing; by Jack Downing himself, had this creature
-of Mr. Smith’s fancy been endowed with a real
-entity. The fact is, that “The Major” is not <span class='it'>all</span>
-a creation; at least one half of his character actually
-exists in the bosom of his originator. It was the Jack
-Downing half that composed “Powhatan.”</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i106b.jpg' alt='Signature of Jos. Hopkinson' id='iid-0031' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Judge <span class='sc'>Hopkinson’s</span> hand is forcible, neat, legible,
-and devoid of superfluity. The characters have
-much slope, and whole words are frequently run together.
-The lines are at equal distances, and a
-broad margin is at the left of the page, as is the case
-with the MSS. of Judge Marshall, and other jurists.
-The whole is too uniform to be picturesque. The
-writing is always as good at the conclusion, as at the
-commencement of the epistles—a rare quality in
-MSS., evincing <span class='it'>indefatigability</span> in the writer.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i107.jpg' alt='Signature of Alexander Slidell' id='iid-0032' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lieutenant <span class='sc'>Slidell</span>, some years ago, took the additional
-name of Mackenzie. His reputation, at one
-period, was extravagantly high—a circumstance
-owing, in some measure, to the <span class='it'>esprit de corps</span> of the
-navy, of which he is a member, and to his private
-influence, through his family, with the Review-cliques.
-Yet his fame was not altogether undeserved;
-although it cannot be denied that his first book,
-“A Year in Spain,” was in some danger of being
-overlooked by his countrymen, until a benignant star
-directed the attention of the London bookseller,
-Murray, to its merits. Cockney octavos prevailed;
-and the clever young writer who was cut dead in his
-Yankee habiliments, met with bows innumerable in
-the gala dress of an English <span class='it'>imprimatur</span>. The work
-now ran through several editions, and prepared the
-public for the kind reception of “The American in
-England,” which exalted his reputation to its highest
-pinnacle. Both these books abound in racy description;
-but are chiefly remarkable for their gross deficiencies
-in grammatical construction.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Lieut. Slidell’s MS. is peculiarly neat and even—quite
-legible, but altogether too petite and effeminate.
-Few tokens of his literary character are to be
-found, beyond the <span class='it'>petiteness</span>, which is exactly analogous
-with the minute detail of his descriptions.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i108a.jpg' alt='Signature of Francis Lieber' id='iid-0033' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Francis <span class='sc'>Lieber</span> is Professor of History and Political
-Economy in the College of South Carolina, and
-has published many works distinguished by acumen
-and erudition. Among these we may notice a “Journal
-of a Residence in Greece,” written at the instigation
-of the historian Niebuhr; “The Stranger in
-America,” a piquant book abounding in various information
-relative to the United States; a treatise on
-“Education;” “Reminiscences of an intercourse
-with Niebuhr;” and an “Essay on International
-Copy-Right”—this last a valuable work.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Professor Lieber’s personal character is that of the
-frankest and most unpretending <span class='it'>bonhommie</span>, while
-his erudition is rather massive than minute. We
-may therefore expect his MS. to differ widely from
-that of his brother scholar, Professor Anthon; and
-so in truth it does. His chirography is careless,
-heavy, black, and forcible, without the slightest attempt
-at ornament—very similar, upon the whole
-to the well-known chirography of Chief Justice Marshall.
-His letters have the peculiarity of a wide
-margin left at the top of each page.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i108b.jpg' alt='Signature of Sarah J. Hale' id='iid-0034' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. <span class='sc'>Hale</span> is well known for her masculine style
-of thought. This is clearly expressed in her chirography,
-which is far larger, heavier, and altogether
-bolder than that of her sex generally. It resembles
-in a great degree that of Professor Lieber, and is not
-easily deciphered.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i109a.jpg' alt='Signature of Edward Everett' id='iid-0035' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Everett’s</span> MS. is a noble one. It has about it
-an air of deliberate precision emblematic of the
-statesman, and a mingled grace and solidity betokening
-the scholar. Nothing can be more legible,
-and nothing need be more uniform. The man who
-writes thus will never grossly err in judgment, or
-otherwise; but we may also venture to say that he
-will never attain the loftiest pinnacle of renown.
-The letters before us have a seal of red wax, with an
-oval device bearing the initials E. E. and surrounded
-with a scroll, inscribed with some Latin words which
-are illegible.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i109b.jpg' alt='Signature of Robert M. Bird' id='iid-0036' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Dr. <span class='sc'>Bird</span> is well known as the author of “The
-Gladiator,” “Calavar,” “The Infidel,” “Nick of
-the Woods,” and some other works—Calavar being,
-we think, by far the best of them, and beyond doubt
-one of the best of American novels.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His chirography resembles that of Mr. Benjamin
-very closely; the chief difference being in a curl of
-the final letters in Dr. B.’s. The characters, too,
-have the air of not being able to keep pace with the
-thought, and an uneasy want of finish seems to have
-been the consequence. A vivid imagination might
-easily be deduced from such a MS.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i110a.jpg' alt='Signature of John Neal' id='iid-0037' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>John Neal’s</span> MS. is exceedingly illegible and
-careless. Many of his epistles are perfect enigmas,
-and we doubt whether he could read them himself
-in half an hour after they are penned. Sometimes
-four or five words are run together. Any one, from
-Mr. Neal’s penmanship, might suppose his mind to
-be what it really is—excessively flighty and irregular,
-but active and energetic.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i110b.jpg' alt='Signature of C M Sedgwick' id='iid-0038' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The penmanship of Miss <span class='sc'>Sedgwick</span> is excellent.
-The characters are well sized, distinct, elegantly but
-not ostentatiously formed, and with perfect freedom
-of manner, are still sufficiently feminine. The hair-strokes
-differ little from the downward ones, and the
-MSS. have thus a uniformity they might not otherwise
-have. The paper she generally uses is good,
-blue, and machine-ruled. Miss Sedgwick’s hand-writing
-points unequivocally to the traits of her
-literary style—which are strong common sense, and
-a masculine disdain of mere ornament. The signature
-conveys the general chirography.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i111a.jpg' alt='Signature of J. Fenimore Cooper' id='iid-0039' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Cooper’s</span> MS. is very bad—<span class='it'>unformed</span>, with
-little of distinctive character about it, and varying
-greatly in different epistles. In most of those before
-us a steel pen has been employed, the lines are
-crooked, and the whole chirography has a constrained
-and school-boyish air. The paper is fine, and of a
-bluish tint. A wafer is always used. Without appearing
-ill-natured, we could scarcely draw any inferences
-from such a MS. Mr. Cooper has seen
-many vicissitudes, and it is probable that he has
-not always written thus. Whatever are his faults,
-his genius cannot be doubted.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i111b.jpg' alt='Signature of J. L. Hawks' id='iid-0040' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Dr. <span class='sc'>Hawks</span> is one of the originators of the “New
-York Review,” to which journal he has furnished
-many articles. He is also known as the author of
-the “History of the Episcopal Church of Virginia,”
-and one or two minor works. He now edits the
-“Church Record.” His style, both as a writer and
-as a preacher, is characterized rather by a perfect
-<span class='it'>fluency</span> than by any more lofty quality, and this trait
-is strikingly indicated in his chirography, of which
-the signature is a fair specimen.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i112a.jpg' alt='Signature of Henry Wm Herbert' id='iid-0041' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This gentleman is the author of “Cromwell,” “The
-Brothers,” “Ringwood the Rover,” and some other
-minor productions. He at one time edited the “American
-Monthly Magazine,” in connection with Mr. Hoffman.
-In his compositions for the Magazines, Mr.
-<span class='sc'>Herbert</span> is in the habit of doing both them and himself
-gross injustice, by neglect and hurry. His longer
-works evince much ability, although he is rarely
-entitled to be called original. His MS. is exceedingly
-neat, clear, and forcible; the signature affording
-a just idea of it. It resembles that of Mr. Kennedy
-very nearly; but has more slope and uniformity,
-with, of course, less spirit, and less of the picturesque.
-He who writes as Mr. Herbert, will be found always
-to depend chiefly upon his merits of <span class='it'>style</span> for a
-literary reputation, and will not be unapt to fall into
-a pompous grandiloquence. The author of “Cromwell”
-is sometimes wofully turgid.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i112b.jpg' alt='Signature of C. H. Waterman' id='iid-0042' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. <span class='sc'>Esling</span>, formerly Miss Waterman, has attracted
-much attention, of late years, by the tenderness
-and melody of her short poems. She deserves <span class='it'>nearly</span>
-all the commendation which she has received. Her
-MS. would generally be considered beautiful; but
-formed, like that of most of her sex, upon a regular
-school-model, it is, of course, not in the slightest degree
-indicative of character.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i113a.jpg' alt='Signature of E. F. Ellet' id='iid-0043' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. <span class='sc'>E. F. Ellet</span> has published one or two books,
-exclusively of a volume of poems, but is chiefly known
-to the literary world by her numerous contributions
-to the Magazines. As a translator from the Italian,
-she has acquired an enviable reputation. Her hand,
-of which the signature above scarcely conveys a full
-idea, is clear, neat, forcible and legible; just such a
-hand as one would desire for copying MSS. of importance.
-We have observed that the writers of such
-epistles as those before us, are often known as translators,
-but seldom evince high originality or very
-eminent talent of any kind.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i113b.jpg' alt='Signature of M M Noah' id='iid-0044' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Judge <span class='sc'>Noah</span> has written several plays which took
-very well in their time, and also several essays and
-other works, giving evidence of no ordinary learning
-and penetration on certain topics—chiefly connected
-with Israelitish history. He is better known, however,
-from the wit and universal <span class='it'>bonhommie</span> of his
-editorial paragraphs. His peculiar traits of character
-may be traced in his writing, which has about it
-a free, rolling, and open air. His lines are never
-straight, and the letters taper too much to please the
-eye of an artist, and have now and then a twirl, like
-the tail of a pig, which gives to the whole MS. an
-indescribably quizzical appearance, and one altogether
-in consonance with the general notion respecting
-the quondam Major, and present Judge, than whom
-no man has more friends or fewer enemies.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i114.jpg' alt='Signature of J. G. Palfrey' id='iid-0045' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Professor <span class='sc'>Palfrey</span> is known to the public principally
-through his editorship of the “North American
-Review.” He has a reputation for scholarship; and
-many of the articles which are attributed to his pen
-evince that this reputation is well based, so far as the
-common notion of scholarship extends. For the rest,
-he seems to dwell altogether within the narrow
-world of his <span class='it'>own</span> conceptions; imprisoning them by
-the very barrier which he has erected against the
-conceptions of others.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>His MS. shows a total deficiency in the sense of
-the beautiful. It has great pretension—great straining
-after effect; but is altogether one of the most
-miserable MSS. in the world—forceless, graceless,
-tawdry, vacillating and unpicturesque. The signature
-conveys but a faint idea of its extravagance.
-However much we may admire the mere <span class='it'>knowledge</span>
-of the man who writes thus, it will not do to place
-any dependence upon his wisdom or upon his taste.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This article will be concluded in our next number, and will embrace the autograph of every writer of note
-in America.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk121'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='king'></a>THE KING’S BRIDE.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY J. H. DANA.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>There</span> is no scenery in England more beautiful than
-that to be found in portions of the New Forest. Huge
-gray old oaks, gnarled, and twisted, and aspiring to
-heaven; deep glens, overshadowed by canopies of
-leaves, through which the light but faintly struggles;
-vast arcades, stretching far away in the distance, and
-buried in religious gloom; wild wood roads, that
-wind hither and thither among the giant trees in fanciful
-contortions; and open, sunny glades, intersected
-by sparkling streamlets, waving with verdant
-grass, and now and then disclosing a fairy cottage
-nestled in the edge of the forest, are to this day, the
-characteristics of this favorite hunting ground of the
-conqueror and his immediate successors. There is a
-solitude about this old labyrinthine chace, which is
-perfectly bewitching. You may travel for miles, in
-the more secluded parts of the forest, without meeting
-a human being, or seeing the smoke of a single
-cottage curling among the foliage; but on every hand
-you will behold trees growing in the wildest luxuriance,
-and tread on a sward as soft and thick as the
-richest velvet. You will, for a space, hear nothing
-but the sound of a nut rattling to the ground, or the
-song of some wood bird down in a brake; and then
-you will rouse the deer from their retreat, a rustle
-will be heard down in the under-growth, and you
-will catch a sight of the noble herd, perchance, as
-they go trotting away into the darker recesses of the
-forest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Such is the New Forest now, and such it was eight
-centuries ago, on a bright sunny morning, towards
-the end of summer. The hour was still early, for the
-dew yet sparkled in the grass, or pattered down from
-the foliage as the wind stirred among the forest branches.
-The scene was one of the loveliest the chace afforded—a
-bright glade embosomed in the most silent
-depths of the forest. The whole of this open space
-was carpeted with the thickest and greenest grass,
-varying in hue, at every breath of the balmy wind
-over the undulated surface. On one side, the glade
-was bounded by a gentle elevation, covered with stately
-oaks, whose giant branches, spreading out far and
-wide, buried their trunks in the obscurity of a constant
-twilight—and on the other three sides the
-ground either extended itself in a plain, or sloped so
-gently off, that the descent was nearly imperceptible.
-Thousands of wild flowers spangled the surface of
-the glade, some flaunting proudly on the air, and
-some modestly hiding under the long grass, yet all
-sending forth the most delicious perfume—while innumerable
-birds, of every variety of plumage, hopped
-from twig to twig, or skimmed across the glade, filling
-the air with untold harmonies,—and high in the
-heaven, a solitary lark, lingering there long after
-his fellows had departed, poured forth his lay with
-such sweet, such liquid harmony, that a stranger, unaccustomed
-to his song, and unable to distinguish his
-tiny form far up in the sunny ether, might well have
-fancied those unrivalled notes the breathings of an
-unseen cherubim.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Such was the scene on which there now gazed two
-beings, both beautiful, but one surpassingly so. The
-elder of the two might have been one and thirty, and
-both his face and figure were moulded in the noblest
-style of manly beauty. His broad brow, chiselled
-features, and commanding port, bespoke him one born
-to rule, although the simple and somewhat mean
-garb he wore argued that he was not rich in this
-world’s goods. The attire of his companion was richer,
-but less gay, and she wore the veil of a novice.
-Her face, however, made up in loveliness for whatever
-absence of ornament there was in her dress, and
-indeed she might well have challenged the world to
-produce her rival. The fair delicate skin through
-which the blue veins could be seen meandering, the
-snowy brow that seemed made for the temple of
-the loveliest and purest thoughts, the golden hair
-that lay in wreathes upon the forehead, and the blue
-eye whose azure depths seemed to conceal mysteries
-as pure and rapturing as those of heaven, made up a
-countenance of overpowering beauty, even without
-that expression, so high and seraphic, which beamed
-with her every word, and threw over each lineament
-of her face a loveliness almost divine. Her figure
-was like that of a sylph, yet full and rounded in every
-limb; and beneath her dress peeped forth one of
-the most delicate feet that ever trod green sward. She
-was perhaps eighteen, though she might have been
-younger. She sat now on a low bank, at the very
-edge of the forest, while her companion reclined at
-her feet, holding one of her tiny hands in his broad
-palm, and gazing up into her eyes with a look of the
-deepest, yet most respectful passion. Nor were the
-maiden’s orbs averted from his gaze, for ever and anon
-she would twine her fingers playfully yet half sadly
-in his locks, and return his look with all a woman’s
-tenderness.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, sweet one,” said the hunter, as if continuing
-a conversation, “I have sometimes, during our
-separation for the last six long months, almost desponded,
-especially when I heard how urgent my
-brother was that you should wed his favorite Warren,
-and when I reflected that your aunt, the good abbess
-Christiana, was so hostile to my suit. But I did you
-injustice, dear one, and thus,” and he kissed the hands
-of his companion again and again, “I sue for pardon.
-God only knows,” he added in a sadder tone,
-“whether I shall ever have my rights. They sneer
-at me now as a landless prince, and that purse-proud
-Surrey hath no better name for me than Deer’s-foot,
-because I am not always able to follow the hunt with
-a steed. But so long as thou art true to me, sweet
-Maud, all these will be as nothing; and the time may
-come when we shall yet be happy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fear not, Beauclerk,” said the princess—for it
-was Matilda of Scotland who spoke, and he whom
-she addressed was the younger son of the conqueror,
-the penniless dependent of him whom men called the
-Red King, “fear not—all, as you say, will be well.
-I feel it, I know it. Do you believe in presentiments,
-dear Henry?” and pushing aside her lover’s thick
-locks, she held her hand on his forehead, and looked
-with her sunny orbs full into his eyes, as if she would
-playfully read his very soul.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Presentiments trouble me not much, despite what
-the books say thereof,” answered the frank hunter,
-“I trust rather to my sword and my good right arm,
-though forsooth, they availed me little when I was
-cooped up in St. Michael’s Mount by my two kingly
-and loving brothers. Aye! presentiments and prophesies,
-and such things, trouble me but little, or I would
-e’en have consolation now, in all my troubles, in calling
-to mind the words of my father—the saints assoilzie
-his memory!—since dying, he said, ‘that I
-should be inheritor of all his honors, and should excel
-both Robert and William in riches and power.’ By
-St. George, the riches had best come soon, for I gave
-my last mark away this morning. No, kind Maud,
-I place little faith in presentiments. But you sigh.
-If it pains you that I credit them not, why, then I
-am the most devout believer in all England,” and
-again he pressed that fair hand to his lips, “why do
-you ask the question?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Because,” said the princess, blushing at his eagerness,
-“I have had a presentiment that we should
-yet be happy, and that full soon. I know not how it
-is to happen; but of this I am assured, we shall live
-for brighter days. The abbess threatens me with the
-veil if I do not wed Surrey, and even now forces me,
-in her presence, to wear a tissue of horse-hair; but
-though I can as yet see no escape from the alternative,
-I am not the less certain that it will never be
-mine to choose. So now, despond no more, dear
-Beauclerk.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks, thanks, for your cheering homily,” said
-the young prince laughing, for her sanguine words
-had affected him with an unusual gaiety. “I can
-hunt now with some spirit. Little does Surrey think,
-while he is getting ready for the chase and perhaps
-sneering at me as a laggard for not being up to set
-out with the rest, that I have stolen out into the forest
-to meet her for whom he would give the whole of his
-broad lands.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>What answer the princess might have made to this
-somewhat vain-glorious speech, we know not, but at
-this instant a party appeared on the scene in the guise
-of a knight, somewhat advanced in years, and as he
-approached hastily, he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You must forgive me, my dear lady, if I urge you
-to take horse. The abbess knows your journey will
-have consumed but a day, and that you should have
-reached Wilton last night, and I shall have a hard
-task to excuse your protracted stay without betraying
-you. The men-at-arms are drawn up but a little space
-off, and, though they are all my servitors, it is best
-that they should know nothing to reveal. The prince
-here will understand me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Assuredly, Sir John; and if he they call Beauclerk
-ever attains power, he will not forget those who befriended
-the landless prince. I will bring up Maud
-in an instant.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The knight bowed, and retreated into the wood. A
-few parting words were exchanged betwixt the lovers,
-a few tears were shed by Maud, which were kissed
-off by the prince, and then, with one long, last embrace,
-they tore themselves asunder, and in a few
-minutes the princess had rejoined her train. Prince
-Henry stood looking vacantly in the direction where
-she had disappeared, until the sound of her beast’s
-tramp had died in the distance, when, slowly mounting
-his steed, who had awaited its master in a neighboring
-copse, he entered one of the forest roads, and
-proceeded leisurely onwards. He had journeyed thus
-about half an hour when he heard a hunting horn
-sound close by him, and directly he beheld approaching
-the gallant array of his brother.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! my good cousin Deer’s-foot, well met,” said
-the Earl of Surrey; “we have been looking for you.
-I told your friend here, who swore you were yet abed,
-that we should meet you afoot in the forest before
-the day was over—and thereon we have laid a wager.
-I trow we have neither won. It would be but fair to
-give you the bet, would it not?” said the gay Earl
-with a half concealed sneer, as he glanced from his
-own rich suit to the prince’s garb.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You may both want yet, fair sirs, all you can
-spare,” answered the prince; “but let us see who
-will be first in at the death. You were always apt at
-that, my lord,” and he turned to the royal treasurer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ay, and shall maintain my reputation, your highness,”
-said Breteuil, recollecting he addressed almost
-a beggar; “and, if I may judge by your steed, even
-against yourself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We shall see—we shall see,” said the prince.
-“I lay you a new steed, my lord, I distance you to-day.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Done,” said the treasurer, laughing; “you have
-thrown away your horse. But here is the king, and
-lo!” and as he spoke the horn announced that a stag
-had been roused, “the game is afoot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At the word the eager sportsmen gave spur to their
-steeds, and the cavalcade swept gaily off in the chase.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Never had a more gallant array than that which
-now followed the royal stag, woke up the echoes of
-the forest. Knights and squires, priests and pages,
-warriors and ecclesiastics, princes of the blood royal
-and high officers of state, pressed forward in the
-chase, now scouring along the level plain, now dashing
-away through the arcades of the forest, and now
-plunging recklessly through brake and dell, as the
-hounds dogged the flight of the noble animal into his
-once secure retreat. Yet it was well worthy of note
-how compactly the hunters kept around the king,
-none venturing to outstrip him, and only a few of the
-oldest maintaining an even rein with him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Often during the chase the prince and Breteuil
-passed and repassed each other, and at every recognition
-Henry would gaily remind the treasurer of his
-wager. At length, however, the pursuit became
-more hot, the king gave rein to his steed and pressed
-on, and in passing some broken ground the royal party
-became separated, and those who were younger or
-better mounted than the rest swept on ahead. Among
-these was Prince Henry, who, though his steed was
-none of the best, kept up a not ignoble pace, until at
-length his arbalast caught against a tree, and he was
-nearly thrown from his horse. He checked his steed
-at once, and recovered his cross-bow, but the string
-was broken, rendering the weapon useless.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! My gallant prince,” said the treasurer, as
-he swept by; “you can scarcely hit your game now,
-even if you keep on. I trow your steed is mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A malison on the string,” said the prince bitterly;
-“there is nothing left for me except to sneak
-back to Winchester. But, no! I bethink me now
-there is a forester’s hut somewhere nigh here. Ah!
-yonder is its smoke curling over the tree-tops. I
-will hie me there, and get a new string. If the stag
-turns at the dell below, he will head up this way, and
-I may yet win my wager, for, the saints know, I can
-ill afford to lose my only steed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With these words the prince again gave spurs to his
-horse, and was soon before the forester’s hut.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ho! there, within,” he exclaimed; “a string
-for the prince. Marry, old mistress, have they never
-a keeper here better than you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>These words were addressed to an old woman who
-met him at the threshold of the hut as he dismounted,
-and who appeared to be the only human being inhabiting
-the cabin. And she was one who might well
-occasion the prince’s exclamation of surprise. Her
-skin was like that of a corpse; her eyes were sunk
-deep into her head; her hair was grizzled and gray;
-her long bony fingers might have been those of a
-skeleton, and when she spoke, her hollow sepulchral
-tones made even the courageous prince shudder. She
-seemed to pay no regard to her visitor’s inquiry for
-a string, but fastening her basilisk-like eyes upon
-him, she said or rather chaunted, in Norman
-French, a rude lay, of which the following verses
-are a translation:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“Hasty news to thee I bring,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Henry, thou art now a king;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Mark the words, and heed them well,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Which to thee in sooth I tell,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And recall them in the hour</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of thy royal state and power.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>For the space of almost a minute after she had
-ceased, the prince gazed speechlessly on this novel
-being, awed alike by her strange demeanor, and her
-sepulchral eye. Nor were the words she chaunted
-without effect on her hearer. It was a superstitious
-age, and though few men of his day were less influenced
-by the supernatural than Henry, there was
-something in the sybil’s look which chilled his heart
-with a strange feeling, half fear, half awe. He had
-not recovered from his surprise, when a horseman
-rushed wildly up to the hut, and the prince had
-scarcely recognized one of his warmest friends,
-Beaumont, when that gentleman breathlessly exclaimed:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The king is slain!—Tyrell’s arrow glanced
-from a bow and struck your royal brother to his
-heart!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The words of Beaumont acted on the prince like
-the charm which dissipates a spell. He started, as
-if aroused from some strange dream, looked a moment
-in wild surprise at his companion, and gradually
-comprehending the strange and sudden transition
-in his fortunes, he sprung with a bound into his
-saddle, and plunging his rowels up to the heel in his
-horse’s side, exclaimed:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then this is no place for me—follow to Winchester,
-Beaumont,—and now for a crown and
-Maud!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The next instant his horse’s hoofs were thundering
-across the stones, as he galloped furiously to the
-capital.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>History relates how he reached Winchester, with
-his steed bathed in foam, and, without slackening his
-pace, dashed up to the door of the royal treasury, a
-few minutes in advance of Breteuil. History also
-tells how the energy of the young prince broke
-through the meshes of the wily traitor, and secured
-for Beauclerk the crown; but it does not add that,
-after the unwilling treasurer had surrendered the
-keys of the regalia, his new master said, half laughingly
-and half ironically, to the haughty peer who
-had so often neglected him when only a prince—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, my lord! did I not say I would win the
-race? I trow your steed is mine!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The discomfited Breteuil bit his lip and was silent,
-but that night his best charger was sent to the royal
-stables; while the rest of the hunters, who were now
-fast pouring in from the chase, with the populace
-which at the first news of the Red King’s death had
-begun to shout “King Henry,” gathered around their
-young monarch and filled the air with their acclamations.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Maud is right,” said the king to himself, as he
-beheld the enthusiasm displayed by his people, “to
-say nothing of the old sybil. Ah! what will my
-sweet one think when she hears this?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Three months later and all the chivalry of the realm
-was gathered in the church at Westminster, while
-the populace without thronged every avenue to that
-princely cathedral. Never indeed had a prouder assemblage
-met at any royal ceremonial. The church
-blazed with jewels. Nobles in their robes of state;
-bishops and archbishops with mitre and crozier;
-countesses whose beauty out-dazzled their diamonds;
-knights and squires and pages of every rank; burghers
-with their chains of gold; men-at-arms encased in
-steel; halberdiers and archers; yeomen with quarter
-staffs, and foresters with arbalasts; men of every
-situation of life, and bright ladies, whose loveliness
-was beyond compare, were gathered in the gorgeously
-ornamented church, amid the waving of banners,
-the sound of music, the rustling of costly robes,
-and the smoke of ascending incense, to gaze on the
-marriage of their monarch to his fair and blushing
-bride. And there she stood before the altar in all
-her virgin beauty, her fair blue eyes suffused with
-tears of joy; while her manly lover stood at her
-side, the proudest cavalier in all that bright array.
-And when the archbishop ascended the pulpit, and
-demanded if any one there objected to the union, the
-whole audience shouted aloud “that the matter was
-rightly settled;” then again pealed forth the anthem,
-and again the incense rose in clouds to the fretted
-roof. The music ceased, the words were said, the
-crown was placed on the brow of the princess, and
-the hunter of the forest, amid the acclamations of his
-people, pressed to his heart the <span class='sc'>King’s Bride</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do you believe in presentiments now?” said the
-young queen, half laughing, to her royal husband
-when they reached the palace.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am a convert to your faith whatever it may be,
-sweet one. Nay! you shall preach no sermon over
-my retraction, for thus I forbid the homily,” and the
-king drew the blushing Maud towards him and fondly
-kissed her.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many an iron monarch has, since then, sat on the
-English throne, and many a fair princess has been
-led by her lover to the altar, but never has a happier
-or more beautiful pair wore the regal crown in the
-realm of our ancestors.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk122'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='mer'></a>MERRY ENGLAND.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY J. R. LOWELL.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>Hurrah</span> for merry England,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Queen of the land and sea,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The champion of truth and right,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The bulwark of the free!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Hurrah for merry England!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Upon thy seagirt isle</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thou sittest, clothed in righteousness,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Secure of Heaven’s smile!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>When ruled the fairhaired Saxon,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Yes, thou wert merry then;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And, as they girt their bucklers on,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thy meanest serfs were men;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And merry was the castle-hall</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With jest and song and tale,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When bearded lips with mead were white</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And rang the loud Washael!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>And, when grim Denmark’s black-browed prows</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Tore through thine Emerald sea,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And many a wild blue eye was turned</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In savage lust on thee,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>When, in the greenest of thy vales,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The gusts of summer air</p>
-<p class='line0'>Blew out in long and shaggy locks</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The sea-king’s yellow hair,—</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Yet Alfred was in England,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And merry yet again</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thy white-armèd Saxon maidens were</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;When, on the drunken Dane,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The sudden thunders of thy war</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With arrowy hail did pour,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And grim jaws dropt that quivered yet</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With savage hymns to Thor.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Thy merry brow was fair and free,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thine eye gleamed like a lance,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When thy good ash and yew did crush</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The gilded knights of France;</p>
-<p class='line0'>When Paris shook within her walls</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And trembled as she saw</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her snow-white lilies trampled down</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Beneath thy lion’s paw.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Queen Bess’s days were merry days,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Renowned in song and tale,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Stout days that saw the last brown bead</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Of many a tun of ale;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Queen Bess’s days were golden days</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And thou full proudly then</p>
-<p class='line0'>Did’st suckle at thy healthy breasts</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The best of Englishmen.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Thou hast been merry, England,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;But art thou merry now,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With sweat of agonizing years</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;Upon thy harlot brow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Grimed with the smoke of furnaces</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That forge with damned art</p>
-<p class='line0'>The bars of darkness that shut in</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The poor man’s starving heart?</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Oh free and Christian England!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The Hindu wife no more</p>
-<p class='line0'>Shall burn herself in that broad realm</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Saint George’s cross waves o’er;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thou art the champion of the right,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The friend of the opprest,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And none but freemen now shall tread</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thine Indies of the West.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>But thou canst ship thy poison,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Wrung from lean Hindu slaves,</p>
-<p class='line0'>To fill all China with dead souls</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That rot in living graves;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And, that thy faith may not be seen</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Barren of goodly works,</p>
-<p class='line0'>At Saint Jean D’Acre thou sent’st up</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To Heaven three thousand Turks.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Fling high your greasy caps in air,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Slaves of the forge and loom,</p>
-<p class='line0'>If on the soil ye’re pent and starved</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Yet underneath there’s room;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Fling high your caps, for, God be praised,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Your epitaph shall be,</p>
-<p class='line0'>“Who sets his foot on English soil</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thenceforward he is free!”</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Shout too for merry England</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Ye factory-children thin,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Upon whose little hearts the sun</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Hath never once looked in;</p>
-<p class='line0'>For, when your hollow eyes shall close</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The poor-house hell to balk,</p>
-<p class='line0'>(Thank God for liberty of speech)</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The parliament will talk.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Thank God, lean sons of Erin,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Who reverence the Pope</p>
-<p class='line0'>In England consciences are free</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And ye are free—to hope;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And if the Church of England priest</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Distrain—why, what of that?</p>
-<p class='line0'>Their consciences are freer still</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Who wear the shovel-hat.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The poet loves the silent past,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And, in his fruitful rhyme,</p>
-<p class='line0'>He sets the fairest flowers o’er</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The grave of buried time;</p>
-<p class='line0'>But, from the graves of thy dark years,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The night-shade’s ugly blue</p>
-<p class='line0'>And spotted henbane shall grow up</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To poison Heaven’s dew.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Woe to thee, fallen England,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Who hast betrayed the word,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And knelt before a Church when thou</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Shouldst kneel before the Lord!</p>
-<p class='line0'>And, for that scarlet woman</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Who sits in places high,</p>
-<p class='line0'>There cometh vengeance swift to quench</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The lewdness in her eye.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Woe to thee, fallen England,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Who, in thy night-mare sleep,</p>
-<p class='line0'>O’er a volcano’s heart dost toss</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Whence sudden wrath shall leap</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of that forgotten Titan</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Who now is trodden down</p>
-<p class='line0'>That one weak Guelphic girl may wear</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her plaything of a crown!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>That Titan’s heart is heaving now,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And, with its huge uprise,</p>
-<p class='line0'>On their sand basements lean and crack</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The old moss-covered lies;</p>
-<p class='line0'>For freedom through long centuries</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Lives in eternal youth,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And nothing can for ever part</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The human soul and truth.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk123'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='mar'></a>MARRIAGE.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY RUFUS DAWES.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>The</span> inmost region of the mind, where dwells</p>
-<p class='line0'>The essences of unborn thought,—those <span class='it'>ends</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>In which Effects, through Causes, dwell in power,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Opened. ’Twas in vision, and I saw</p>
-<p class='line0'>A palace of vast size—such as the eye,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The natural eye of man, never beheld.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Its massy walls of unhewn agate towered,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Girt by a colonnade of crysolite;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And there were ninety columns of huge bulk,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Sustaining an entablature of gold,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Diamond and ruby, glittering like the sun.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The windows were each one a double plate</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of spacious crystal, sliding from the touch</p>
-<p class='line0'>Each side in golden frames. The portico</p>
-<p class='line0'>Hung o’er a flight of alabaster steps,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Extending to a lawn of delicate moss,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where browsed a flock of innocent, white lambs,</p>
-<p class='line0'>That little children garlanded with flowers.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Around the palace, orchard-trees were seen,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Laden with fruit celestial, that hung down</p>
-<p class='line0'>Like gems among the gold and silver leaves.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Majestic vines, heavy with clustering grapes,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In large festoons swung gorgeously between</p>
-<p class='line0'>The opulent boughs that dropped with nectarines.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>’Twas on a mountain’s summit, high and broad,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Commanding a magnificent expanse,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where Art, in its essential excellence,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Glowed in potential forms, where Nature, too,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Un-ultimated in terrestrial things,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Bloomed in angelic beauty. To the east</p>
-<p class='line0'>A river, brinked luxuriantly with flowers,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Lapsed silently. The deep-enameled dome,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Whose measureless horizon knew no bounds,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Was draped with clouds that broke celestial rays,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Shining down shadowless. Turning, I saw</p>
-<p class='line0'>A pair of Consorts, whose exalted home</p>
-<p class='line0'>Was in this paradise. No forms of earth,</p>
-<p class='line0'>No mortal lineaments—no reach of thought</p>
-<p class='line0'>Poetic, when imagination wings</p>
-<p class='line0'>Homeward to Heaven, could in the least compare</p>
-<p class='line0'>With their angelic radiance;—they were</p>
-<p class='line0'>Beauty itself in form,—two, and yet one,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>One angel male and female—a true Man.</p>
-<p class='line0'>He was her Understanding, she his Will;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Thence, but one mind in heavenly marriage formed.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her love was cradled in his thought, that loved</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her love and nursed it—as the tender drops</p>
-<p class='line0'>Clasp the warm sunbeams, while the smile of Heaven</p>
-<p class='line0'>Breaks in the rainbow. Such is genuine love.</p>
-<p class='line0'>He in his form more radiantly shone</p>
-<p class='line0'>Than that sublime achievement of fine art,</p>
-<p class='line0'>That shows the power of luminous Truth to kill</p>
-<p class='line0'>Sinuous Error;—she, than Guido’s gem</p>
-<p class='line0'>More beautiful, more human, and more true.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>I saw, and lo! two dromedaries, each</p>
-<p class='line0'>Bearing a golden basket, one of bread,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The other of ripe fruit; they came and knelt.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Each took and gave the other,—he the bread,</p>
-<p class='line0'>She the ripe fruit. The dromedaries then</p>
-<p class='line0'>Rose and departed. I beheld them kneeling</p>
-<p class='line0'>Beside the river, and when they had drunk</p>
-<p class='line0'>I saw them rise again and kiss each other,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And then depart. I looked again, and lo!</p>
-<p class='line0'>The consorts had withdrawn. They were the first</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of the new birth of Marriage here on earth—</p>
-<p class='line0'>A promise for the future, when a Time,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And Times, and half a Time shall be fulfilled.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk124'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='ind'></a>INDIAN TRADITIONS.—No. II.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>FORT POINT.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY D. M. ELWOOD.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.9em;' -->
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>“His spirit wraps the misty mountain,</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>His memory sparkles o’er the fountain;</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>The meanest rill—the mightiest river—</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>Rolls mingling with his name forever.”</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div></div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> beautiful towns and villages of Connecticut,
-bordering on Long Island sound, are not surpassed in
-quiet loveliness by any others in New England. The
-loveliest, perhaps, of them all, is Norwalk, situated
-in the western part of the State, on a river of the
-same name, which flows sweetly along through the
-centre of the town. The title, we confess, is neither
-euphonious nor romantic: but we would not have it
-changed even for the sweetest word that ever passed
-human lips. It was given it by the Aborigines on
-the day when the territory was first purchased from
-them, and refers, if we mistake not, to its extent northward
-from the sound, called by the Indians the <span class='it'>North
-walk</span>. It is, indeed, one of the most lovely spots in
-Nature. Its quiet harbor is studded with verdant
-islands of every size and form, while across the green
-waters Long Island is seen, its dim outline scarcely
-distinguishable from the blue expanse beyond. The
-sound through its whole length is spotted with sheets
-of snowy canvass spread to catch the breeze, and anon
-the majestic steamer, like some huge leviathan, comes
-laboring on her way, proudly dashing aside the foaming
-waters from her prow, and leaving far behind a
-whitened, widening track. But when the Storm King
-is abroad, the crested waves pursue each other in
-continual chase, and the long, swelling billows break
-upon the shore, sending forth their rich music in the
-deep organ tones of nature.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the eastern side of the river, and directly opposite
-the present steamboat landing, is a large circular
-mound, some twenty feet high, and covering a surface
-of about an acre. It is perfectly level on the top, and
-bordered with large, tall cedars. It is now commonly
-known by the inhabitants in the vicinity as <span class='sc'>Old
-Fort Point</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There is a tradition respecting the object and the
-erection of this mound, which I have with difficulty
-procured, and which maybe interesting to many who
-have visited the place, if not to strangers. For its
-truth, in all particulars, I will not vouch, but give it
-substantially as it has come down to us.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>About two centuries ago, there lived, on the level
-country about what is now Fort Point, but what was
-then called Naumkeag, one of those large tribes of
-native Indians, which, at the time when this land was
-first visited by Europeans, were scattered over the
-country from the shores of the Atlantic to the great
-valley of the west. The Indians had not then been
-degraded by their intercourse with the whites. The
-peculiarities of their nature had not been modified by
-the influence of civilization. Their tastes had not
-been pampered, nor their appetites excited by the fatal
-“fire water” introduced by their destroyers, nor
-their bodily strength wasted by diseases, loathsome
-and deadly, and till then unknown among them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>From the feathered flocks of the forest and the finny
-tribes of the sea, they derived an ample subsistence;
-the shores, too, abounded in shell fish, and the forests
-with game, so that want and famine were never
-dreamt of by the happy and proud inhabitants of
-Naumkeag.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many years before the time of this sketch a large
-colony separated from the principal tribe and moved
-northward, settling themselves in the mountainous regions
-of Massachusetts. This colony embraced about
-a quarter of the whole tribe at Naumkeag—and being
-composed mostly of young men and their wives,
-they soon became nearly as powerful as the people
-whom they had left.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Although many miles lay between them, these two
-tribes long kept up a friendly intercourse with each
-other, and forgot not that they had sprung from the
-same common stock. Miles were passed over almost
-as easily by those hardy foresters as they are by us at
-the present day, even with the help of iron roads and
-steam carriages. Great power of endurance was natural
-to their constitution, and especially was the fatigue
-of a long and rapid journey borne without inconvenience.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was one of the Wannamoisetts, as those who
-had removed from Naumeag now called themselves,
-who was more frequent by far in his visits to the sea
-shore than any other of his tribe. Every second moon
-found him treading the forest with his face toward
-the south. His journey usually occupied from two
-to three days. Occasionally he remained at Naumkeag
-for a week at a time, though for the most part,
-his visits were less protracted.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mononchee had of course some object or incentive
-for being thus frequent and regular in his attendance
-at the home of his ancestors. His very distant relationship
-to the tribe would hardly demand such an
-excess of filial affection. The truth was, there was
-a magnet of attraction in the person of a young maiden
-of Naumkeag, the sister-in-law of the chief, Wappaconet;
-and a powerful magnet it was too,—for
-there was not another in the whole village that possessed
-a brighter eye or a more perfect form. Her
-step almost realized the description of the poet,</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;“————and fell,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Trembling and soft, like moon-light on the earth.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>Noalwa was not insensible to the attentions of her
-constant swain; on the contrary, his wooings were
-quite successful. His bravery and his manly strength—his
-tall and well formed person, and flashing eye,
-were well calculated to win the admiration, and, in
-due course, the affections of the gentle being upon
-whom his own desires centered; and the many soft
-things that he whispered in her ear, (for even an Indian
-<span class='it'>in love</span> can utter the sweetest phrases with a
-honied mouth,) found a deep lodgment in her heart.
-And it was noticed that when the period of his visits
-was near at hand, her step was still lighter than usual,
-and her eye danced with a new, but soft fire, though
-at such times she spoke less, and seemed thoughtful
-but not sad.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One evening—it was in the beginning of June, that
-season so favorable to young lovers—Mononchee surprised
-Noalwa sitting under a large tree close upon
-the shore. The hour and the place seemed as if under
-the influence of enchantment. The scene was like a
-fairy land. The broad sound was spread out before
-her, upon whose surface the clear moon shed her softened
-rays, which, as from a mirror, were reflected
-back on every side, giving to all things around an
-unnatural and unearthly brightness. There seemed
-a spell upon the air. It stirred not—but hung over
-the earth and the sea as if to heal every imperfection
-on the face of nature by its bland and genial influence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Noalwa had not been long there. An unwelcome
-intruder had invaded the hour which she had set apart
-for solitude and for communion in spirit and in fancy
-with her absent but adored lover. The intruder had
-hardly left her sight ere he was banished from her
-thoughts, and as it was about a week earlier than the
-customary time of Mononchee’s coming, she was
-thinking how long the days would be till she saw him,
-when she felt a warm kiss upon her cheek. She
-screamed not—spoke not—for a deep-seated feeling
-at her heart told her that those were no forbidden lips
-that could kindle such raptures in her soul.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She gazed up at the face and form that was bending
-over her with all the fondness of a first love, and
-the young Indian placed himself by her side and gently
-drew her to his bosom. Then followed a conversation
-in low, deep, earnest tones, that both came
-from, and reached the heart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Wannamoisett is good—very good, to come
-so soon and gladden the heart of Noalwa,” murmured
-the girl as he pressed her to his breast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who would not come early and often if Noalwa
-loved him?” replied he. “Her beauty is brighter
-than the sun! Her eye is clearer and softer than the
-moon which leaves a broad trail of light upon the
-water. She sings more sweetly than the Tichanet,<a id='r4'/><a href='#f4' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[4]</span></sup></a>
-and when she laughs the whole air is full of pleasant
-sounds.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did the Wannamoisett see any of my people as he
-came hither?” asked she.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“None—for I came down by the shore. Ah! yes,
-I did see one—Annawon, the Namasket.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Noalwa hung her head.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where did Mononchee meet him?” said she.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I saw him here!” vehemently replied the warrior,
-“here—standing on this very spot. I saw his
-hand grasp yours; nay, kneeling at your feet. I saw
-his eager look whilst you poured into his ear words
-which should have been kept for Mononchee!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be it so then,” cried the maiden, her lips quivering
-with insulted pride, and her heart torn with the
-agony which the unjust but perhaps reasonable suspicion
-of her lover caused, “be it so! for I told him
-to go—ere he told me a tale of love—to his tent
-and behold the wasted form and the sunken eye of
-Tituba, his wife, once loved and cherished—now
-neglected. I told him that I could never be his, and
-that any one who suspected Noalwa would so dishonor
-herself as to break her faith with another, could
-not be worthy of her love. Mononchee suspects her,
-and to him let her words be applied.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“But why suffer the Namasket to hold your hand?
-Why play with the serpent just ready to strike deep
-his fangs?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mononchee is a keen-eyed warrior,” said the maid
-in irony, “he saw the hawk, but not the wren that
-drove <span class='it'>him from her nest</span>. He saw Annawon at the
-feet and holding the hand of Noalwa, but did not observe
-with what scorn she looked upon him—did not
-mark how she spurned and drove him from her.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was deceived,” answered the repentant lover;
-“Noalwa has a pure heart, and never again will I distrust
-her. Seest thou that moon hanging yonder over
-the clear water? When it is again round and full, as
-it is to-night, Mononchee will come to take Noalwa
-for his wife. Will she be ready to go with him then
-to dwell where the hills are high and the deer are
-plenty?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am yours—yours only,” and her blushing face
-was hid in his bosom.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After sitting for about an hour, the young man
-arose. “I must return,” said he, “to my people.
-Remember the full moon, Noalwa,” and he strode
-rapidly away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A few days after the above occurrence the Namaskets
-were invited by the Wannamoisetts to partake
-of a grand feast of deer and bears’ flesh at their village
-in the mountains. Accordingly a large party of
-the active men of the tribe started one morning, and
-the evening of the next day found them with their
-friends at Cohammock. The Wannamoisetts had
-made their preparations on a grand, and, for them,
-magnificent scale. Piles of plump deer and still
-richer bears’ meat lay around, while kettles of dried
-sweet corn and beans, of the last year’s growth, were
-already simmering over the small fires, that the hard
-kernels might become well softened and ready for use
-on the morrow.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With the gray dawn of morning, all was bustle and
-activity in the village of Cohammock. The Indian
-matrons were early bestirring themselves that nothing
-might be left undone to mar the festivities of the
-occasion. Innumerable fires were kindled—the wooden
-spit and the seething pot, the two indispensable
-and almost the only culinary implements in use among
-them, were put in requisition. Whilst the preparations
-were going slowly on, the men of the tribe as
-well as their guests were idling listlessly about, their
-appetites every moment rendered sharper by the odor
-of the smoking viands that were soon to form their
-savory meal.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And truly the banquet was not unworthy the occasion.
-Just as the sun had reached the “middle point
-in the heavens,” piles upon piles of boiled and roasted
-flesh were spread under the shade of the tall sycamores
-that grew undisturbed in all parts of the village.
-A large bowl of the finest <span class='it'>succotash</span> was placed
-before each guest, and if the quantity eaten be
-the standard of quality, never was there served up a
-better dinner than was that day disposed of in the
-rude village of Cohammock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At length the repast was finished. Both guests and
-entertainers, with a prudence truly commendable, ate
-as if expecting a famine for a month, at least, to come,
-and nothing remained but to indulge in that supreme
-of Indian luxuries, tobacco. Pipes were brought,
-but alas! there was not a particle of the weed to be
-found. Some miscreant, a fair representative of that
-variety of our race at the present day—ever ready to
-engender strife, had stolen and destroyed all that was
-to be found in the village.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This was a deficiency that could be supplied by no
-other article. Venison or succotash or any other part
-of the edible entertainment could have been dispensed
-with, but the burning propensities of an Indian
-must be indulged. The Wannamoisetts were as much
-mortified as their guests were offended at this unfortunate
-occurrence, but it was with difficulty the Namaskets
-could be persuaded that it was not an intentional
-insult; so jealous were the natives of their
-own honor! Contrary to their previous intention,
-they left their kinsmen in the early part of the same
-afternoon, not caring to remain till morning with
-those who had, in their view, been so parsimonious
-in their hospitality.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Let us return again to the sea shore at Naumkeag.
-A month after the feast of Cohammock, a party of
-the Wannamoisett warriors were present at a grand
-collation, prepared by Wappacowat, the Namasket
-chief. Much were they gratified by this expression
-of his friendship, for they had always regretted the
-affair at their own village, and feared that an open
-rupture would be the consequence. They dreaded
-this, still cherishing some little spark of fraternal affection
-for those whom they had unmeaningly offended.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>During the banquet, so busily were the Wannamoisetts
-engaged in despatching the shell and other fish
-which their friends had made ready, that they did
-not observe that Wappacowat and his followers partook
-but sparingly, so that by the time they had eaten
-almost to suffocation, and were illy prepared for the
-least exertion, the Namaskets had taken only what
-was just sufficient to stimulate them for any enterprise.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At length Wappacowat gave the signal to his followers
-to bring the calumet, and as he did so, a close
-observer might have discovered a gleam of gratified
-animosity shoot across his iron features and glisten
-in his snaky eye. Quickly moved his warriors, and
-the devoted guests half stupified by the vast quantities
-of food they had taken, saw the pipes well filled
-with the luxurious plant, but did not discover the
-tomahawk and the knife which they had concealed
-under their deer skin robes. They sat not smoking
-long, for suddenly the Namaskets rose and each one
-buried his tomahawk into the brain of the Wannamoisett
-next him. All—all were slain. So well had
-the treacherous, fratricidal plan been matured, that
-not a single one was left to carry to the desolate village
-of Cohammock the tale of blood and guilt. Ah!
-yes, there was one—Mononchee—the betrothed of
-Noalwa, who having neglected the feast that he
-might spend the time apart with the fair one, came
-into the village just as the last reeking scalp had been
-torn from the cloven skull. Looking an instant on
-the appalling spectacle, he uttered a furious yell and
-sprang like a deer towards the river. A dozen tomahawks
-flew after him, and as many dark warriors
-started in pursuit, but in vain, for with a few powerful
-strokes the brave youth gained the opposite bank,
-and bounding into the woods, effected his escape.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They were buried on the spot where they fell. Perhaps
-no shade of remorse passed over the minds of
-the murderers, but they could not leave the victims
-there for their flesh to rot and their bones to whiten
-in the sun. They were buried several feet below the
-surface, and the gloomy shades of night fell thick
-around before the last mangled body was hidden from
-the sight. And as the rising wind swept through the
-thick-topped pines and tall buttonwoods around, it
-wailed and sighed mournfully, as if singing a melancholy
-dirge over the graves of the gallant dead. And
-by the midnight hour it blew in hoarse and awful
-tones, and the death shouts and groans of the dead
-were heard commingling with the blast; and when
-the night was darkest, and all save the growling of
-the wind and these unnatural noises, was still, a lurid
-flame sprang up from the centre of the spot where
-the feast had been, and cast a sickening light on all
-things, and the earth opened around, and the bodies
-of the Wannamoisett warriors, bloody and mangled
-as they were, arose and danced around it, singing
-their war songs in unearthly tones, together with their
-wild requiem for the dead. Ghastly and horrible they
-looked, and as they danced, the blood flowed from
-their opening wounds, till it reached the strange fire,
-which instantly shot up in one lurid column of flame
-till it attained the blackened clouds, when it disappeared
-as suddenly as it had burst forth; the spectral
-revellers sank back again into their fresh graves, and
-all was dark and silent as before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But when the morning broke the Namaskets beheld
-a spectacle scarcely less hideous than that of the
-preceding night. Their victims had been buried, as
-their custom was, in a sitting posture, and during the
-night they had all risen, so that their heads were fully
-visible above the surface of the ground. The bloody
-mark of the tomahawk was still there, and every
-scalp was torn off—and the eyeballs, projecting far
-from the sockets, were fixed and glassy, but of a burning
-red,—glowing like living fire. And from them
-rays of dingy red streamed all over the village,—and
-wherever one of the murderers went, those rays followed
-him, and pierced him, and seemed as if they
-were burning out his heart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Reckless with fear and rage the murderers tore the
-bodies up from the ground and dug the graves still
-deeper and again they placed them in. But at midnight
-the red flame burst forth and the tempest howled
-fearfully. The phantom forms sprung up as before,
-and this time their flesh, from their shoulders
-downward, dropped off and was consumed by the fire,
-and a dense smoke arose, and a red cloud slowly
-gathered in the air, and hovered round and hung over
-the spot like a minister of vengeance. And in the
-morning their gory heads and glaring eyes had again
-struggled up above the surface. And when the fratricides
-saw them, a deadly terror crept over them
-and the demon of remorse began to prey upon their
-souls.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the third night the scene was changed. The
-moon did not set at her accustomed hour, but hung
-just above the horizon, red as a sea of blood. And
-in the midst of the fire that shot forth from the earth
-at midnight, a form was seen like that of Wappacowat,
-the chief. But the ghostly images were there
-again, and they gathered round the form in the centre,
-and with their skeleton fingers tore off its flesh
-as fast as it was seared in the fire, and ground it in
-their teeth with ravenous appetite. When in the
-morning the dismayed villagers sought their chief
-they found him not, but tied to a stake where the
-midnight revel had been held was a skeleton, the
-bones all picked clean except the head, which had
-been cloven with a tomahawk, and from it the scalp
-was also torn, and in its features, distorted as if they
-had stiffened under the keenest tortures, they recognized
-the countenance of their king.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Dismay sat upon every guilty face, and a sullen
-gloom enshrouded every heart. The tribe finding it
-useless to bury deeper the bodies of their slain kinsmen
-now began to build over them—but every night
-one of their number disappeared, and in the morning
-his fleshless bones were found tied to the fatal stake;
-and still the heads rose, but every day there was one
-less than before. Then the dreadful truth flashed
-upon them that one of their own number must die in
-that fearful manner, for every one of the Wannamoisetts
-they had slain. As the number of their dead
-increased, which it did by one for every midnight
-hour, so did the number of spectre heads diminish.
-One murdered spirit was every night appeased, and
-appeared no more.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Still they kept on building that huge pile, and the
-dreadful occupation to which they clung as affording
-the only ray of hope that they might be delivered
-before their turn should come round, so wrought upon
-the guilty ones that they soon became almost as ghostly
-as the phantoms of the night which tortured them.
-But they faltered not in their task. Every day the
-heads were covered and every morning they were
-found in sight. And on the seventieth morning that
-mound was far higher than it now stands. There was
-then but one head remaining, for just seventy of the
-Wannamoisetts had been slain and just seventy were
-the murderers. At midnight of that day the strange
-revel was, for the last time, visible, for when the skeleton
-of Mononton, the last and most bloody of the
-fratricides was found, the last head had disappeared
-forever.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The remainder of the tribe left soon after in search
-of a more auspicious residence. Since the treacherous
-act of their brethren, famine had weakened them
-and the terrible plague laid many of their forest children
-low. But wherever they wandered, the curse
-of the Great Spirit followed them, and they dwindled
-away until finally there was no place left for them on
-the earth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One fair evening in the next summer, two forms sat
-upon the very mound which forms the principal subject
-of this tale. One was a female of fairy proportions,
-and she looked abroad over the landscape with
-the eye of one to whom its beauties were familiar.
-Her companion’s face was buried in his hands, and
-his whole frame shook as if the recollection of some
-terrible scene were passing over his memory. And
-as the eye of Noalwa rested on him she, too, divining
-his thoughts, shuddered, saying,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mononchee! let us go hence, never again to return!
-I cannot bear to look upon these scenes where
-my people lived and where yours so sadly perished.
-These trees that we have planted around the mound
-which covers them will bear witness that their memory
-is still dear to us. Let us go, Mononchee!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They went to dwell with those that were left of his
-people. Many and bright were their days. Plenty
-surrounded them. The tribe grew again and Mononchee
-became their chief. The trees which he planted
-around “Fort Point” sprang forth and flourished
-luxuriantly, and the large junipers that still remain
-are doubtless descended from that parent stock. But
-scarcely any other green thing will grow there; it
-seems a devoted place. Devoted let it be; sacred forever
-to the shades of those who are sleeping in its
-bosom.</p>
-
-<hr class='footnotemark'/>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_4'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f4'><a href='#r4'>[4]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A wild forest bird.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'><span class='sc'>Unionville</span>, Mass.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk125'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='nevsh'></a>NEVER SHALL MY HEART FORGET THEE!</h1></div>
-
-<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>BALLAD—SUNG BY</p>
-<p class='line' style='margin-top:0.5em;margin-bottom:0.5em;font-size:1.1em;font-weight:bold;'>MR. SINCLAIR,</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>COMPOSED BY</p>
-<p class='line' style='margin-top:0.5em;margin-bottom:0.5em;font-size:1.1em;font-weight:bold;'>GEORGE O. FARMER.</p>
-</div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='it'>Philadelphia</span>: <span class='sc'>John F. Nunns</span>, <span class='it'>184 Chesnut Street</span>.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i137.jpg' alt='musical score' id='iid-0046' style='width:75%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Never shall my heart forget thee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Come what may of joy or ill;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Love, the hour when first I met thee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Lives in mem’ry still.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Beauty’s hallowed light was o’er thee!</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i138.jpg' alt='musical score' id='iid-0047' style='width:75%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Music’s spell was on thy tongue,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Oh, to see was to adore thee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Maid of Avinlonge,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! to see was to adore thee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Maid of Avinlonge.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Maid, the shades of night are falling,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The blest hour of love draws nigh;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Like the voice of beauty calling,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Floats the bird-song by.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Tho’ our fond hearts fate should sever,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Darkly doomed to pine alone;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Still as first they loved, forever</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Should our souls love on.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Though from dreams of hope awaking.</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;I can scorn Fate’s ire to me,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Smile, tho’ my own heart be breaking,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;If Fate wounds not thee!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Never shall my lips deceive thee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;My devotion ne’er decline,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Dearest, until life shall leave me,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;My whole heart is thine.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk126'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='spo'></a>Sports and Pastimes.—THE FOWLING-PIECE.</h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>THE LOCK—THE PERCUSSION SYSTEM—TRIGGERS—WADDING—AMMUNITION, ETC.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> flint and steel lock, like the matchlock, has had its
-day; and the one is as likely as the other to supersede the
-detonator. There were some sportsmen who long retained
-the flint in preference to the copper-cap. Their partiality
-for the old system arose from their inability to depart from
-the manner of taking aim to which they had been accustomed—they
-fired too forward! It was said, too, that a
-barrel fired by a detonating lock, did not throw shot so efficiently
-as the other. That objection is now obviated
-by making barrels perfectly cylindrical throughout the
-whole length of the tube. We prefer the copper-cap
-lock for its simplicity, to any other system of firing by
-percussion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A bad lock, in these <span class='it'>march-of-improvement</span> days, is rarely
-fixed to a gun. Since the use of detonators has become general,
-the quality of the lock is not of so much consequence
-to the sportsman as it was previously. The quickness of
-firing with the old flint and steel locks depended so much on
-the workmanship of the lock, that a properly-tempered and
-well-filed one was invaluable. The introduction of detonators
-has by no means improved the quality of the workmanship
-of the lock—it has rather deteriorated it. The fact is,
-the master gunmakers, finding the lock not so much looked
-at as formerly, are become indifferent to obtaining the
-assistance, or unwilling to incur the expense of first-rate
-workmen. The hardening and filing of a lock in an artist-like
-manner, requires no common skill. The best locks
-ever turned out were those made on the flint and steel principle,
-at the time when detonators first came into vogue;
-the smartness with which the percussion locks fired, obliged
-the makers of the flint and steel locks to bestow double diligence
-and labor on their work, conscious that a rival was in
-the field with whom it required no ordinary pains to compete.
-Flint locks, whether as applied to the fowling-piece
-or the musket, will soon be forgotten, or remembered only
-to give a romantic interest to some tale of other times, as the
-arbalast and long-bow serve only to remind us of our Norman
-and Saxon ancestors! It requires some mechanical
-knowledge and some experience, to decide on the merit of a
-lock. The vulgar method of trying one is this:—The operator
-draws back the hammer with his thumb, not touching
-the trigger with his finger, and if the works in the interior
-catch and snap smartly at the half-way, and when the hammer
-is drawn back, he may rely on the main-spring being
-sufficiently strong and free to fire the caps: then, with his
-thumb still on the hammer, he draws the trigger and lets the
-hammer glide slowly down upon the pivot. With a little
-practice he will be able, in some degree, to discriminate between
-a good lock and a bad one. To prove the difference
-in quality, he should take up a well-finished lock; that is,
-one of hard material, well filed, and having springs of a
-suitable and corresponding strength, and compare it with an
-inferior lock; by a nice touch he will perceive the difference:
-the hammer of the former slides backwards and forwards
-with a smooth, even force; whilst that of the latter
-runs rough and gritty, as if clogged with sand. If this somewhat
-uncertain mode of trial serve no other purpose, it will
-enable the shooter, when he takes up a gun that has been
-used since being cleaned, to discover whether the lock is
-sufficiently free from rust and dirt as to be fit for the day’s
-service; for most assuredly, if the lock be clogged, when
-thus worked backwards and forwards, it will not snap, or in
-sporting phrase <span class='it'>talk</span>; and in that case it would be unsafe to
-use it. A detonating lock that will bear this trial, and will
-invariably fire the cap, may be pronounced quite good
-enough for any sporting purpose.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The triggers should be what are technically termed <span class='it'>box-triggers</span>,
-and should be taken from the stock and cleaned at
-least once during the season, and oftener if very much exposed
-to dust, rain, or a damp atmosphere. They should
-be adjusted with scrupulous nicety, so as to require only a
-slight touch to draw them: they should not, indeed, fire as
-easily as the hair-triggers of duelling pistols, but should be
-fixed so firmly as that the sportsman should not be liable to
-discharge his piece, while bringing it up to his shoulder
-cocked, with his finger upon one of the triggers. The triggers
-may sometimes be regulated by filing, hardening, or
-softening the scear spring, or filing the wedge-like part of
-the scear which falls into the notches of the tumbler: and
-sometimes it is necessary to file that part of the trigger
-which comes in contact with the scear, but this operation
-requires to be carefully performed. A valuable lock should
-not be placed in the hands of an unskilful workman for the
-apparently trifling purpose of regulating the triggers, nor
-yet for any other purpose.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wadding we should recommend is that made of felt,
-and anointed with some chemical preparation. We are not
-sure that this is the very best description of wadding, but
-we know of none better. New waddings are constantly invented.
-The metallic wadding, concave wadding, punched
-cards, or punched hat wadding, are any of them good, as
-regards shooting. The chief reason why we bestow a preference
-on the anointed wadding is, because the barrel is
-kept less foul, and may be fired so many times oftener without
-requiring cleaning, than when any other description of
-wadding with which we are acquainted is used. We are
-not partial to a tight wadding, but it should fit so that when
-the barrel is clean and smooth within, the charge will not
-stir. There is little fear of the charge stirring after a barrel
-has been fired a few times, as the place where the leading
-or foulness accumulates in greatest quantity is just above
-where the charge of shot lies.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Considerable improvement has been made in copper-caps
-since they were first introduced. The composition in all of
-them is now good; that which possesses the anti-corrosive
-principle is perhaps best. There is much difference in the
-copper of which they are made, but that is of little consequence
-when good locks with concave or well shielded hammers
-are used, otherwise those made of bad copper are said
-to be dangerous. We never heard of an accident from them.
-The shooter should be particular in procuring copper-caps
-of a proper size; for if they do not fit the pivots, considerable
-inconvenience will be experienced. When too small,
-they will not explode; and when too large, the cap on the
-second pivot is apt to fly off when the first barrel is fired.
-The shooter will find it convenient to carry a quantity of
-caps loose in his waistcoat pocket, with a reserve in a box
-(a metal box water-tight is best) to have recourse to should
-those in his pocket become wet. He should take care that
-there be nothing in his pocket to choke the caps; and by
-way of precaution, he should, before putting a cap on the
-pivot, see that there be no dirt in the cap, and that it be
-perfect.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The best powder does not soil the gun so much as inferior
-powder. After using good powder, a redness will be observed
-round the orifice of the pivot. After using coarse
-powder, a white or black appearance will present itself.
-The purer the powder is, the oftener may a barrel be fired
-without requiring to be cleaned.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When the measure on the flask is regulated as it ought to
-be, it will hold the requisite charge for a clean barrel on a
-warm dry day. It behoves the shooter, then, when the atmosphere
-is moist and the wind boisterous, to increase the
-charge of powder in each barrel in a trifling degree. However
-stormy the day may be, the shooter may prevent the
-particles of powder from being blown away while he is
-charging; but he cannot prevent them adhering to the damp
-leaded interior of the barrels. Indeed, if the barrels be
-damp, as they cannot fail to be if the air be so, and there be
-no wind at all, they cannot be held quite perpendicular, so
-that the whole charge of powder shall find its way to the
-breech. One-fifth of the charge will sometimes adhere.
-Doubtless, when tight wadding is used, the whole, or nearly
-the whole, of the charge finds its way to the bottom: but in
-what state? A portion of it is wet!—and the result is, that,
-when the piece is discharged, only four-fifths ignite!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The fowling-piece should be put by clean, oiled, and the
-barrels corked or stopped, and with the hammers upon the
-pivots. It should be kept in a cloth or woolen case, in a dry
-room, and, when not in constant use, occasionally rubbed
-with linen dipped in olive oil. The inside of the barrel
-should be frequently oiled, the oil being immediately wiped
-out with a dry cloth wrapped round the cleaning rod.
-Neat’s-foot oil is best for the lock, and linseed oil is recommended
-for the stocks, but it is so offensive that we prefer
-olive oil.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Large-grained powder is generally stronger than small-grained.
-It is well to be cautious that the grain is not so
-large as not to fill the nipple freely, or misfires will be the
-consequence. Powder which suits one gun may not suit
-another; the larger the bore of the gun, the larger should be
-the grain of the powder. An instrument for trying the
-strength of powder should not be trusted to: the best trial
-is with the gun in which the powder is intended to be used,
-and there can be no better target for trying the comparative
-strength of different powders, than an unbound book fixed
-firmly against something solid.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The heavier and harder the metal of which shot is made
-the better.<a id='r5'/><a href='#f5' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[5]</span></sup></a></p>
-
-<hr class='footnotemark'/>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_5'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f5'><a href='#r5'>[5]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As shot is numbered differently by different manufacturers,
-we give the number to the ounce of the sizes to which
-we have referred:</p>
-
-<table id='tab3' summary='' class='center'>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>A. A.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>about</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>40</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>A.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>50</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>B. B.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>60</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>B.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>75</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>1.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>80</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>2.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>110</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>3.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>130</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>4.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>180</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>5.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>220</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>6.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>270</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>7.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>350</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>8.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>600</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>9.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>1000</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle2'>10.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle0'>—</td><td class='tab3c4 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab3c5 tdStyle3'>1700</td><td class='tab3c6 tdStyle2'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-</table>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;'>——</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>CHARGING THE FOWLING-PIECE.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is not usual to charge the gun until arriving at the
-shooting ground. When there, however advisable on the
-score of caution it may be, flashing off a quantity of powder
-to clear out, dry, and warm the gun before loading, has certainly
-a cockney appearance; the more sportsman-like practice
-is,—the party having reliance on the person who cleans
-his gun,—merely to permit the ramrod to fall lightly to the
-bottom of each barrel. The barrels are then held as perpendicularly
-as possible while the powder is poured in, so
-that nearly the whole charge may reach home, and not adhere
-in its descent. The barrel is then tapped with the ramrod,
-or the gun slightly shook against the foot, that powder
-may find its way into the pivots,—that is the more necessary
-when coarse-grained powder is used. A wadding is
-then gently pressed down. The shot is next poured in, and
-a slight shake of the gun in an upward direction causes it
-to lie evenly;—a wadding is pressed upon it. The shooter
-next removes the remains of the caps, and looks whether
-the powder has found its way to the orifice of the pivots, and
-if it has, he places fresh caps on; if powder is not visible at
-the orifice of the pivots, he removes any obstacle with a
-pricker, and contrives to push down a few grains of powder.
-It is very material to attend to this point, to prevent
-miss-fires.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;'>——</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>THE WIRE-CARTRIDGE.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wire-cartridge was invented, in 1828, by Mr. Jenour.
-It consists of a cylindrical case or network of wire, the
-meshes of which are somewhat more than an eighth of an
-inch square; at the lower end the wire partially closes; the
-wire case is then enveloped in fine paper, and at the upper
-end a cork wadding, cut so as to fit the gauge of the gun, is
-affixed, the case is then filled with shot and bone dust. The
-first cartridges made, though ingenious in construction, were
-defective in operation. It was a matter of no ordinary difficulty
-to fabricate them in such a manner that the shot
-should leave the case at the precise distance required. This
-at first could not be done so that they might be trusted in
-every instance; every alternate cartridge might fire well,
-but the rest would fire irregularly, being liable to ball,—that
-is, the shot would not leave the case until fifty or sixty
-yards from the gun, and such cartridges were, of course, not
-only useless but dangerous. They have been from time to
-time improved, and almost every difficulty has been overcome.
-The sporting cartridges now made never ball, they
-act with a considerable degree of precision and certainty,
-and that they may be safely trusted may be inferred from
-the fact that they are often preferred by persons engaged in
-pigeon matches. Various materials were used experimentally
-to fill up the interstices between the pellets, but nothing
-seems to answer so well as the material now used. Another
-difficulty in their construction presented itself. It was requisite
-to accommodate them to the various methods of
-boring used by different gunmakers, and the unequal length
-of barrels, the object in view being to produce a cartridge
-that would suit all barrels of the same gauge, and this has
-been in a great measure, if not wholly, accomplished. The
-liability to ball, notwithstanding various improvements made
-in them, was not effectually obviated for many years, during
-which they were tried, and in many instances prematurely
-condemned, either from real defects, or from the parties
-not knowing how to use them. They were not brought to
-perfection until the year 1837.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wire-cartridges possess two principal advantages over
-loose shot; they are propelled with greater velocity, and
-thrown more evenly. A loose charge is always thrown in
-patches; the shots of a cartridge, as seen on a target, are
-comparatively equi-distant from each other.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk127'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='rev'></a>REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.</h1></div>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>Guy Fawkes; or The Gunpowder Treason. An Historical
-Romance. By</span> <span class='sc'>William Harrison Ainsworth</span>,
-<span class='it'>Author of “The Tower of London,” “Jack Sheppard,”
-&amp;c. Philadelphia. Lea and Blanchard.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>What Mr. William Harrison Ainsworth had been doing
-before he wrote “Rookwood” is uncertain; but it seems to
-us that he made his literary <span class='it'>début</span> with that work. It was
-generally commended; but we found no opportunity of
-perusing it. “Crichton” followed, and this we read; for
-our curiosity was much excited in regard to it by certain
-discrepancies of critical opinion. In one or two instances it
-was unequivocally condemned as “flat, stale and unprofitable,”
-although, to be sure, the critics, in these one or two
-instances, were men of little note. The more prevalent idea
-appeared to be that the book was a miracle of wit and wisdom,
-and that Ainsworth who wrote “Crichton,” was in
-fact Crichton <span class='it'>redivivus</span>. We have now before us a number
-of a Philadelphia Magazine for the month of April,
-1840, in which the learned editor thus speaks of the work
-in question—“Mr. Ainsworth is a powerful writer; his
-‘Crichton’ <span class='it'>stands at the head of the long list of English
-novels—unapproachable and alone</span>.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. This great glory is
-fairly Mr. Ainsworth’s due, and in our humble opinion, <span class='it'>the
-fact is incontrovertible</span>.” Upon a perusal of the novel so
-belauded, we found it a somewhat ingenious admixture of
-pedantry, bombast, and rigmarole. No man ever read
-“Crichton” through twice. From beginning to end it is
-one continued abortive effort at effect. The writer keeps us
-in a perpetual state of preparation for something magnificent;
-but the something magnificent never arrives. He is
-always saying to the reader, directly or indirectly, “<span class='it'>now</span>, in
-a <span class='it'>very</span> brief time, you shall see what you shall see!” The
-reader turns over the page in expectation, and meets with
-nothing beyond the same everlasting assurance:—another
-page and the same result—another and still the same—and
-so on to the end of the performance. One cannot help fancying
-the novelist in some perplexing dream—one of those
-frequently recurring visions, half night-mare half asphyxia,
-in which the sufferer, although making the most strenuous
-efforts to <span class='it'>run</span>, finds a walk or a crawl the <span class='it'>ne plus ultra</span> of
-his success in locomotion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The plot is monstrously improbable, and yet not so much
-improbable as inconsequential. A German critic would say
-that the whole is excessively <span class='it'>ill-motivert</span>. No one action
-follows necessarily upon any one other. There is, at all
-times, the greatest parade of <span class='it'>measures</span>, but measures that
-have no comprehensible result. The author works busily
-for a chapter or two with a view of bringing matters in train
-for a certain end; and then suffers this end to be either
-omitted—unaccomplished—or brought to pass by accidental
-and irrelevant circumstances. The reader of taste very
-soon perceives this defect in the conduct of the story, and,
-ceasing to feel any interest in marches and countermarches
-that promise no furtherance of any object, abandons himself
-to the investigation of the page only which is immediately
-before him. Despairing of all amusement from the <span class='it'>construction</span>
-of the book, he falls back upon its immediate
-descriptions. But, alas, what is there here to excite any
-emotion in the bosom of a well-read man, beyond that of
-contempt? If an occasional interest is aroused, he feels it
-due, not to the novelist, but to the historical reminiscences
-which even that novelist’s inanity cannot render altogether
-insipid. The turgid pretension of the style annoys, and the
-elaborately-interwoven pedantry irritates, insults, and disgusts.
-He must be blind, indeed, who cannot understand
-the great pains taken by Mr. Ainsworth to interlard the book
-in question with second-hand hits of classical and miscellaneous
-erudition; and he must be equally blind who cannot
-perceive that <span class='it'>this</span> is the chicanery which has so impressed
-the judgment, and dazzled the imagination of such critics
-as he of the aforesaid Magazine. We know nothing at all
-of Mr. Ainsworth’s scholarship. There are some very
-equivocal blunders in “Crichton,” to be sure; but <span class='it'>Ainsworth</span>
-is a classical name, and we must make <span class='it'>very</span> great
-allowances for the usual errors of press. We say, however,
-that, from all that appears in the novel in question, he may
-be as really ignorant as a bear. True erudition—by
-which term we here mean only to imply much diversified
-reading—is certainly discoverable—is positively indicated
-only in its ultimate and total <span class='it'>results</span>. We have observed
-elsewhere, that the mere grouping together of fine things
-from the greatest multiplicity of the rarest works, or even
-the apparently natural inweaving into any composition of
-the sentiments and manner of these works, is an attainment
-within the reach of every moderately-informed, ingenious,
-and not indolent man, having access to any ordinary collection
-of good books. Of all vanities the vanity of the unlettered
-pedant is the most sickening, and the most transparent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Ainsworth having thus earned for himself the kind of
-renown which “Crichton” could establish with the rabble,
-made his next appearance before that rabble with “Jack
-Sheppard.” Seeing what we have just seen, we should by
-no means think it wonderful that this romance threw into
-the greatest astonishment the little critics who so belauded
-the one preceding. They could not understand it at all.
-They would not believe that the same author had written
-both. Thus they condemned it in loud terms. The Magazine
-before alluded to, styles it, in round terms, “the most
-corrupt, flat, and vulgar fabrication in the English language
-.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. a disgrace to the literature of the day.” Corrupt
-and vulgar it undoubtedly is, but it is by no means so <span class='it'>flat</span>
-(if we understand the critic’s idea of the term) as the
-“Crichton” to which it is considered so terribly inferior.
-By “<span class='it'>flat</span>” we presume “uninteresting” is intended. To
-us, at least, no novel was less <span class='it'>interesting</span> than “Crichton,”
-and the only interest which it <span class='it'>could</span> have had for any reader
-must have arisen from admiration excited by the apparently
-miraculous <span class='it'>learning</span> of the plagiarist, and from the
-air of owlish profundity which he contrives to throw
-over the work. The interest, if any, must have had regard
-to the author and not to his book. Viewed as a work
-of art, and without reference to any supposed moral or immoral
-tendencies, (things with which the critic has nothing
-to do) “Jack Sheppard” is by no means the <span class='it'>very</span> wretched
-composition which some gentlemen would have us believe.
-Its condemnation has been brought about by the revulsion
-consequent upon the exaggerated estimate of “Crichton.”
-It is altogether a much better book than “Crichton.” Although
-its incidents are improbable—(the frequent miraculous
-escapes of the hero, for instance, without competent
-means) still they are not, as in “Crichton,” at the same time
-inconsequential. Admitting the facts, these facts hang together
-sufficiently well. Nor is there any bombast of style;
-this negative merit, to be sure, being no merit of the author’s,
-but an enforced one resulting from the subject. The chief
-defect of the work is a radical one, the nature and effect of
-which we were at some pains to point out in a late notice of
-Captain Marryatt’s “Poacher.” The story being, no doubt,
-written to order, for Magazine purposes, and in a violent
-hurry, has been scrambled through by means of <span class='it'>incident</span>
-solely. It is totally wanting in the <span class='it'>autorial comment</span>. The
-writer never pauses to speak, in his own person, of what is
-going on. It is possible to have too much of this comment;
-but it is far easier to have too little. The most tedious books,
-<span class='it'>ceteris paribus</span>, are those which have none at all. “Sir
-Charles Grandison,” “Clarissa Harlowe,” and the “Ernest
-Maltravers” of Bulwer embody instances of its superabundance.
-The genius of the author of “Pelham” is in nothing
-more evident than in the interest which he has infused into
-some of his late works <span class='it'>in spite</span> of their ultra-didacticism.
-The “Poacher” just mentioned, and “The Arabian Nights”
-are examples of deficiency in the commenting principle,
-and are both intolerably tedious <span class='it'>in spite</span> of their rich variety
-of incident. The <span class='it'>juste milieu</span> was never more admirably
-attained than in De Foe’s “Robinson Crusoe” and in the
-“Caleb Williams” of Godwin. This latter work, from the
-character of its incidents, affords a fine opportunity of contrast
-with “Jack Sheppard.” In both novels the hero escapes
-repeatedly from prison. In the work of Ainsworth the
-escapes are merely narrated. In that of Godwin they are
-<span class='it'>discussed</span>. With the latter we become at once absorbed in
-those details which so manifestly absorb his own soul. We
-read with the most breathless attention. We close the book
-with a real regret. The former puts us out of all patience.
-His marvels have a nakedness which repels. Nothing he
-relates seems either probable or possible, or of the slightest
-interest, whether the one or the other. His hero impresses
-us as a mere chimæra with whom we have no earthly concern,
-and when he makes his final escape and comes to the
-gallows, we would feel a very sensible relief, but for the
-impracticability of hanging up Mr. Ainsworth in his stead.
-But if “Jack Sheppard” is a miserably inartistical book,
-still it is by no means so utterly contemptible and silly as
-the tawdry stuff which has been pronounced “<span class='it'>the best of
-English novels, standing at the head of the long list unapproachable
-and alone!</span>”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Of “The Tower of London” we have read only some
-detached passages—enough to assure us, however, that the
-“<span class='it'>work</span>,” like Yankee razors, has been manufactured merely
-“to sell.” “Guy Fawkes,” the book now lying before us,
-and the last completed production of its author, is positively
-beneath criticism and beneath contempt. The design of Mr.
-Ainsworth has been to fill, for a certain sum of money, a
-stipulated number of pages. There existed a necessity of
-<span class='it'>engaging</span> the readers whom especially he now addresses—that
-is to say the lowest order of the lettered mob—a necessity
-of enticing them into the commencement of a perusal.
-For this end the title “Guy Fawkes or The Gunpowder
-Plot” was all sufficient, at least within the regions of Cockaigne.
-As for fulfilling any reasonable expectations, derived
-either from the <span class='it'>ad captandum</span> title, or from his own notoriety
-(we dare not say reputation) as a novelist—as for exerting
-himself for the permanent or continuous amusement of
-the poor flies whom he had inveigled into his trap—all this,
-with him, has been a consideration of no moment. He had
-a <span class='it'>task</span> to perform, and not a duty. What were his readers
-to Mr. Ainsworth?—“What Hecuba to him, or he to
-Hecuba?” The result of such a state of affairs is self-evident.
-With his <span class='it'>best</span> exertions, in his earliest efforts, with
-all the goadings of a sickening vanity which stood him well
-instead of nobler ambition—with all this, he <span class='it'>could</span> do—he
-<span class='it'>has done</span>—but little; and without them he has now accomplished
-exactly nothing at all. If ever, indeed, a novel were
-<span class='it'>less</span> than nothing, then that novel is “Guy Fawkes.” To
-say a word about it in the way of serious criticism, would
-be to prove ourselves as great a blockhead as its author.
-<span class='it'>Macte virtute</span>, my dear sir—proceed and flourish. In the
-meantime we bid you a final farewell. Your next volume,
-which will have some such appellation as “The Ghost of
-Cock-Lane,” we shall take the liberty of throwing unopened
-out of the window. Our pigs are not all of the description
-called learned, but they will have more leisure for its examination
-than we.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk128'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>The Gift: A Christmas and New-Year’s Present for
-1842. Carey and Hart: Philadelphia.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This volume of “The Gift” is superior to any yet published.
-Mrs. Embury has an entertaining story, and Miss
-Leslie’s account of a “Family that Didn’t take Boarders”
-is also quite amusing. Mr. Simms has a well narrated tale—Mr.
-Seba Smith has another—Professor Frost another—Mrs.
-Ellet, also, and the author of “A New Home.” We
-ourselves have one which is not ended so well as it might
-be—a good subject spoiled by hurry in the handling. The
-poetry, in general, is insipid. Mrs. Sigourney has not done
-herself justice. Lieut. G. W. Patten, U. S. A. has three
-effusions, neither of which do credit to the Annual. This
-gentleman, who writes frequently, and should therefore
-write well, is singularly remiss in his metaphors, and often
-grievously deficient in his grammar. What does he mean, at
-page 309, by</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>As sleep the brave so thou <span class='it'>should</span> sleep (?)</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>or, at page 165, by</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The storm is on the sea—I hear its <span class='it'>wings</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>In <span class='it'>thunder fretting</span> o’er the lifted wave (?)</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>This is surely a most singular instance of metaphor run
-mad! Here are three conflicting images at one time in the
-brain of the poet. By the word “wings” the reader is made
-to understand the prosopopeia of the storm as a <span class='it'>bird</span>; by
-“thunder” (a <span class='it'>natural</span> accompaniment of tempests) he is
-brought back to the impersonified storm; by “fretting” he
-is left in no doubt that the writer’s ideas are running upon a
-<span class='it'>horse</span>—and all this in the compass of one line and a half!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The “Stanzas” by Park Benjamin have a rich simplicity
-which of all literary qualities is the most difficult of attainment,
-and of all merits the most uncertain of appreciation;
-but we are sorry to say that they are the <span class='it'>only</span> good verses
-in the volume.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The engravings are very fine. We will speak of them
-briefly one by one.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The “Country Girl,” by Cheney from Sully, is a <span class='it'>truthful</span>
-picture. The design is perfect. The only fault of the execution
-lies in the undue breadth of the face; this defect would
-be remedied by deepening the shade beneath the left ear.
-The work of the engraver is well done.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Vignette Head,” by Cheney from Sully—one of the
-latter’s favorite heads—the face that of a pouting hoyden.
-The hair is beautifully <span class='it'>massed</span>. The <span class='it'>vignetting</span> is carried
-too low as regards the bosom, from which half an inch should
-be taken off at bottom, or otherwise some lines of shading
-introduced to relieve it of its blank appearance. The arm
-is execrable—the hand worse—both are too massive and
-sinewy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Dulcinea,” by Cheney from Leslie. No fault can be
-found with this picture, which is admirable in every respect.
-The right arm, in especial, is exquisitely rounded and
-foreshortened.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Tough Story” by J. J. Pease, from W. S. Mount.
-Mr. Mount’s merits are those of acute observation and fidelity.
-These merits, although not of the highest order, have
-the advantage of being universally appreciable. This is an
-advantage which he secures—<span class='it'>clinches</span>—by dealing only
-in homely subjects. If he has ideality (a question which as
-yet we have had no means of deciding) and would employ
-his peculiar talents upon loftier themes, he might attain a
-very desirable eminence indeed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Nothing could be more true to nature than the picture
-before us; but the painter has sacrificed to this truth (at
-some points) artistical effects of superior value. What can
-be more displeasing, for example, than the unrelieved nakedness
-of the wall in the back ground, or the situation of the
-group precisely in the centre of the design, or, especially,
-than the tall regular stove pipe, running up parallel with
-the back of the standing figure, and dividing the apartment
-exactly in two?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Gipsy,” by Cheney from Sully, is altogether out of
-drawing as regards the face, which is, again, too broad to
-the left. This is a very usual error in side faces. The fingers
-are badly engraved, particularly those of the right hand,
-which look as if covered with a net or pic-nic glove. The
-foliage in this picture is not very well executed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Sled” by W. E. Tucker, from Chapman, is a most
-effective design, evincing the well-educated artist. The
-idea of rapid motion is skilfully embodied in the countenance
-of the boy, in the peculiar falling curve of the hill, and exquisitely
-<span class='it'>corroborated</span> in the whirl of the clouds. This is
-the true artistical keeping. The limbs of the boy are too
-small for his head and body, and the left hand appears to
-have been cut from a turnip. This latter defect is chargeable
-to the engraver.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Raffle” by A. Lawson from Mount. This is another
-of Mr. Mount’s idiosyncrasies, and is absolute perfection <span class='it'>in
-its way</span>. The defects of the work (considered as a mere
-picture) which we pointed out in the “Tough Story,” are
-not observable here. The grouping of the figures and the
-arrangement of the design generally, are as admirable as
-the varied expression of the Yankee faces. The light, however,
-is too equally disposed about the room, and, in especial,
-upon the three middle personages. It is difficult, moreover,
-to imagine these three persons so illumined, and the back of
-the foreground figure at the same time so fully in shade.
-These are petty objections—but it is right they should be
-made.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Portia,” by Forrest from Sully, is an engraving in which
-the mere mechanism is excellent; and, in fact, the work is,
-upon the whole, highly creditable to Mr. Forrest. The
-hands, however, are badly done; the left especially. Some
-knowledge of drawing is absolutely essential in one who
-copies. This knowledge cannot be supplied by even Chinese
-fidelity in depicting dot for dot and line for line. The
-picture, altogether, we prefer to any in the book. Were we
-in the habit of purchasing paintings this “Portia” by Sully
-is the only one here which we would purchase.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The paper of “The Gift” for 1842 does not seem to us sufficiently
-good. The binding is certainly magnificent, but
-would have been vastly improved by the use of a thicker
-board.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk129'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>Amenities of Literature, consisting of Sketches and Characters
-of English Literature. By</span> <span class='sc'>J. D’Israeli</span>, <span class='it'>D.C.L.
-F. S. A. 2 vols. I. &amp; H. G. Langley: New York.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The reputation of the elder D’Israeli as scholar and philosopher
-is at least as well founded as that of any man of
-his age. He has given to the world a series of <span class='it'>peculiar</span>
-books—books in which the richest variety of <span class='it'>recherché</span>
-detail and anecdote about literary affairs, is made subservient
-to the most comprehensive survey and analysis of letters
-themselves, considered in respect to their important spiritual
-uses. He is the only <span class='it'>savant</span> upon record who has
-busied himself, without pedantry, among the <span class='it'>minutiæ</span> of
-classical lore. His works will last as long as the language
-in which they are written. The “Curiosities of Literature,”
-the “Literary Character,” the “Miscellanies of Literature,”
-the “Calamities of Authors,” and all but the present “Amenities
-of Literature” are, however, but incidental labors
-arising from a more extensive design—a “History of English
-Literature”—of which he thus speaks. “It was my
-intention not to furnish an arid narrative of books and of
-authors, but, following the steps of the human mind through
-the wide track of time, to trace from their beginnings the
-progress and the decline of public opinions, and to illustrate,
-as the objects presented themselves, the great incidents in
-our national annals.” In this magnificent project the philosopher
-was arrested by blindness. The “Amenities of
-Literature” is a portion and in fact the beginning of the
-great scheme which can now never be completed. We
-need say no more to recommend it to the reader. The two
-volumes before us are issued in the customary careful and
-tasteful style of the Langleys.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk130'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>The Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of Sir Edward
-Lytton Bulwer, author of “Pelham,” &amp;c. 2 vols.
-Lea and Blanchard: Philadelphia.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We have read these volumes with the highest pleasure.
-They embrace all of the known minor writings of Bulwer,
-with the exception of his shorter fictions; and we recognize
-in the collection several very excellent articles which had
-arrested our attention and excited our curiosity while their
-authorship was undivulged.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mr. Bulwer is <span class='it'>never</span> lucid, and seldom profound. His
-intellect seems to be rather well balanced than lofty—rather
-comprehensive than penetrative. His taste is exquisite.
-His style, in its involution and obscurity, partakes of the involution
-of his thoughts. Apart from his mere intellect,
-however,—or rather as a portion of that intellect—we recognize
-in his every written word the keenest appreciation
-of the right, the beautiful, and the true. Thus he is a man
-worthy of all reverence, and we do not hesitate to say that
-we look upon the charges of immoral tendency which have
-been so pertinaciously adduced against his fictions, as absurdly
-<span class='it'>little</span> and untenable, in the mass.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The volumes now before us are plain evidence of the noble
-spirit which has constantly actuated him. The papers
-here published were written at various epochs of his life.
-We look through them in vain for anything false, as a whole,
-or unchivalrous, or impure, or weak, or tasteless, or ignoble.
-Were we addicted <span class='it'>jurare in verba magistri</span>, there lives no
-man upon whose faith we would more confidently rely than
-upon that of Bulwer—no man whose opinion upon any
-point involving a question of truth, or justice, or taste, we
-would be more willing to adopt unexamined.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We have been especially pleased with an article (in the
-volumes now before us) entitled “Literature Considered as
-a Profession,” and with another “Upon the Spirit of True
-Criticism.” Some remarks in the latter paper are quite as
-applicable to our own country as to Great Britain.</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘To say this is good and that is bad,’ says La Bruyère,
-‘is not morality.’ Very true, neither is it criticism. There
-is no criticism in this country—considering that word as the
-name of a science. A book comes out—it is capital, says
-one—it is detestable, says another. Its characters are unnatural—its
-characters are nature itself. On both sides
-there is affirmation, on neither proof. In fact no science
-requires such elaborate study as criticism. It is the most
-analytical of our mental operations—to pause—to examine—to say
-<span class='it'>why</span> that passage is a sin against nature, or that plot
-a violation of art—to bring deep knowledge of life in all its
-guises—of the heart in all its mysteries to bear upon a sentence
-of approval or disapprobation—to have cultivated the
-feeling of beauty until its sense of harmony has grown as
-fine as the ear of a musician—equally sensitive to discord—or
-alive to new combinations:—these are no light qualities,
-and these are not qualities, it may be answered, to be lightly
-lavished away. Every new book, it may be said, does not
-deserve that we should so honor it. We need not invoke the
-Past, and summon all Nature to hear us praise a butterfly,
-or crush a bug. We may on slight works arrogate the censor—yes,
-but we must first have been chosen the censor, by
-the acumen we have testified on great ones. Now, when an
-author who has risen into eminence, who begins to produce
-an effect upon his age, whose faults it becomes necessary to
-indicate as a warning, whose beauties we should illustrate
-as an example—when such a man produces a new work,
-what is the cant cry of the critics? ‘The peculiar merits
-and failings of Mr. So and So are too well known for us at
-this time of day to repeat them. The present work has all
-the characteristics of the last—if it does not increase, it will
-not diminish the well-earned reputation of the author.’
-Then come the extracts, and a word or two at the end as
-precise and lucid as those at the beginning, and——there’s
-<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE CRITICISM</span>!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“For my part, I please myself sometimes with drawing
-the ideal picture of a good critic, as Bolingbroke drew that
-of a patriot king. What a crowd of accomplishments, not
-easily seen by the superficial, belong to that character!
-Literature and morality are so entwined that you rarely find
-the real critic unless he is also the moralist. The union is
-almost necessary. In Quinctilian how beautifully the deduction
-closes the dogma! and even in Johnson the habit of
-moralizing gives dignity to his criticisms. In both sciences
-the study of mankind, of the metaphysical nature within
-us, alone insures a sound judgment: in both, without a delicate
-yet profound perception of the harmonious, the beautiful,
-the august, no commanding excellency is obtained.
-The goodness of a man and the goodness of a book are not
-such different qualities as people suppose. A person, however,
-<span class='it'>may</span> be, though he is not often, a good moralist without
-being a good man: to preach and practice are faculties
-not inseparable. But I doubt if a man can be a great critic
-who has not, at least, the elementary qualities of a good man.
-I consider that he must keep the intellectual sight clear from
-envy, and malice, and personal dislikes. He must examine
-the work above and remote from all the petty considerations
-that attach to the man. He must be on the alert for genius,
-ready to encourage even a rival to himself. Where this largeness
-of mind is not visible, there is always something petty
-and crippled in the mind of the professional critic. He may
-make one great criticism, but he cannot criticise with greatness
-habitually. Perhaps he reviews some dead author—for
-the dead interfere not with the living; or he wastes a world
-of generosity, like Southey, in praising some rhymester of
-the pantry, who is little enough while he attracts honor to
-the praiser to plunge into forgetfulness the praise. The
-good critic—that rare ideal, must have in him courage to
-blame boldly, magnanimity to eschew envy, benevolence to
-search for obscure merit. He must have genius to appreciate,
-and learning to compare: he must have an eye for
-beauty, an ear for music, a heart for feeling, a mind for reason.
-‘We are conscious of excellency,’ says some author,
-‘in proportion to the excellence within ourselves.’ ”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We wish also to call attention to a very excellent article
-on the subject of “International Copyright.” The only
-paper in the collection which we could have wished omitted
-is one entitled “A Letter to the Quarterly Review,”—an
-attempt at vindictive retaliation upon Lockhart. We admire
-this gentleman quite as little as Mr. Bulwer can possibly
-do, but we grieve to see an attack which has neither
-vigor nor wit, and which proves nothing beyond the writer’s
-wrath and utter incapacity for satire.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk131'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>The Pic Nic Papers. By various Hands. Edited by</span>
-<span class='sc'>Charles Dickens</span>, Esq. <span class='it'>author of “The Pickwick Papers,”
-&amp;c. 2 vols. Lea and Blanchard: Philadelphia.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The “Introduction” to this work gives us its history.
-“The premature death of a young publisher (Mr. Macrone)
-inspired some of those who had known him personally, or
-had been connected with him in business, with an earnest
-desire to render some assistance to his widow and orphans.
-They produced among themselves this work.” In the English
-edition there were three volumes; the third consisting
-of the “Charcoal Sketches” of Mr. Joseph C. Neal, of
-Philadelphia. This edition we have not seen; but have
-been astonished to hear that the London publisher has been
-so discourteous as to print Mr. Neal’s compositions, and the
-engravings which accompanied them, without the <span class='it'>name</span> of
-the writer, or any farther acknowledgment than a few words
-speaking of the whole as “from an American source.”
-Comment upon such meanness seems altogether a work of
-supererogation; but, in truth, we are in the habit of setting
-our brethren across the water very bad examples in matters
-of a somewhat similar kind. That Mr. Dickens had any
-thing to do with the wrong now perpetrated, we will not,
-however, believe for a moment.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The contributors to the two volumes reprinted in Philadelphia
-are among the most celebrated <span class='it'>literati</span> of England.
-We have, for example, articles from Dickens, from Leigh
-Ritchie, Allan Cunningham, Thomas Moore, W. H. Ainsworth,
-G. P. R. James, Agnes Strickland and several others.
-It might be supposed, of course, that the collection would be
-one of high interest: but we are forced to say that it <span class='it'>is not</span>.
-In a case like this, authors (who for the most part are unburthened
-with pecuniary means) are called upon to furnish
-<span class='it'>gratuitous</span> papers. It is not surprising that, under such
-circumstances, they content themselves with bestowing
-whatever MS. they may have at hand, of least value.
-Scraps from memorandum-books; effusions of early years
-kept only as mementos and never destined for publication;
-fragments of tales or essays definitely abandoned by the
-author, who has become dissatisfied with his subject or the
-mode in which it was progressing—matters such as these
-form invariably the staple of compilations such as this.
-There is, moreover, another important consideration—one
-involving a very remarkable truth. The <span class='it'>refuse</span> labor of a
-man of genius is usually inferior, and greatly so, to that of
-the man of common-place talent:—very much as the dregs
-of the <span class='it'>Côtes du Rhone</span> are more viscid than those of Sherry
-or <span class='it'>De Grâve</span>. It is only necessary to suggest this idea to
-have it at once fully appreciated and understood. The man
-of talent pursues “the even tenor of his way.” He is at all
-times <span class='it'>himself</span>. With the all-prevalent law of action and reaction
-he has nothing to do. Never excited into wild enthusiasm,
-he never experiences its consequent and inevitable
-depression. Never boldly soaring, he never sadly sinks.
-To write well, the man of genius must write in obedience to
-his impulses. When forced to disobey them—when constrained,
-by the fetters of a methodical duty, to compose at
-<span class='it'>all</span> hours—it is but a portion of his nature—it is but a condition
-of his intellect—that he should occasionally grovel
-in platitudes of the most pitiable description. And this fact
-will go farther than any one hitherto adduced, to explain
-the character of a fatality which has so constantly attended
-genius as to have become a sure index of its existence:—we
-mean the fatality of alternate high eulogium and virulent
-invective. Few men are conversant with the <span class='it'>whole</span>
-works of an author. Now, in the case of two critics of equal
-ability, it may happen (and we know it <span class='it'>does</span> frequently so
-happen) that the opinion of one may be based solely upon
-the author’s best efforts, while that of the other is deduced
-from some mere task-work labored out in hours of the most
-utter inappetency and exhaustion. The dissent of the latter
-(a dissent just if we regard only the means of judgment)
-will, of course, be extravagant in denunciation, precisely in
-the ratio of his astonishment and indignation at what he
-supposes the corrupt panegyric of the former.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Therefore, it should not be a matter for surprise that these
-“Pic Nic Papers” are very great trash, although written
-by very clever men. Their general merit, in our opinion,
-is below that of the mere <span class='it'>make-weight</span> of our commonest
-newspapers and magazines. One or two of the articles are
-not <span class='it'>very</span> bad:—Leigh Ritchie’s “Marcus Bell,” for example;
-a tale entitled “Aunt Honor;” and “The Lamplighter’s
-Story,” by Mr. Dickens. This last, however, is only tolerable
-through the manner in which it is told. There is not a
-single paper of <span class='it'>real</span> value; and more consummate nonsense
-than the greater portion of the collection we never encountered
-in any respectable-looking book.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We cannot conclude our notice without a protest against
-the title-page. To call this paltry publication the “Pic Nic
-Papers,” and affirm it to be <span class='it'>edited</span> by Mr. Dickens—thus
-inducing ideas of the popular Pickwick, is a piece of chicanery
-which not even the end in view can sanction. No body
-of men are justified in making capital of the public’s gullibility
-for purposes of charity, public or private—for any
-purposes under the sun. We do not hesitate to state the
-present case <span class='it'>plainly</span>. The title affixed to this work has been
-designedly so affixed, that purchasers, hastily glancing at it,
-may suppose it a book upon the same plan as the “Pickwick
-Papers,” and <span class='it'>written</span>, as they were, by Mr. Dickens.
-No one who reflects an instant can suppose the intention to
-have been anything else. Now what is this but the worst
-species of <span class='it'>forgery</span>?</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk132'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the South
-of France, from the year 1807 to the year 1814. By</span> <span class='sc'>W.
-F. Napier, C. B., Colonel</span>, <span class='it'>&amp;c. From the Fourth Edition.
-Complete in Four Volumes. With Numerous
-Engravings. Carey and Hart: Philadelphia.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Colonel Napier’s “History of the Peninsula War” is a
-work whose general features are sufficiently well understood.
-In the thoroughness of its survey and in the minute and exact
-particularity of its details, if not in more important and comprehensive
-regards, it is equalled certainly by no other book
-on the subject discussed, and perhaps by few histories of
-any kind. The author’s extensive political acquaintance
-with the events agitating all Europe at the period investigated,
-and especially the part he bore in some of these events,
-with his obvious enthusiasm for military affairs, rendered
-him as fitting for the task which he has undertaken as any
-individual of his age. It may be said, indeed, and not altogether
-paradoxically, that he was somewhat <span class='it'>too</span> well qualified
-for this task. The agitating incidents <span class='it'>quorum pars
-magna fuit</span> have so forcibly impressed his imagination as
-to mislead his understanding in respect to the <span class='it'>relative</span> importance
-of these incidents. He discourses of the “Peninsular
-Campaign” (pretty much, by the way, as all Englishmen
-discourse of it) as if <span class='it'>it alone</span> were the proper subject
-of all human deliberation. No one will be willing to deny
-the interest which appertains to it, nor the magnitude of the
-results to which it led. We mean to say, however, that,
-except to Colonel Napier and the Duke of Wellington, it is
-not the only important topic in the universe.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hitherto the American reader of history has been able to
-procure this work only from our public libraries, and the
-enterprize of Messieurs Carey and Hart in placing it within
-reach, is worthy of all commendation. They must have
-been at unusual expense in this undertaking. The volumes
-are thick octavos, and are illustrated by no less than fifty-five
-lithographed plans, (which, by the way, are not very well
-executed.) At the same time these publishers can scarcely
-expect remuneration from a very extensive sale. By public
-institutions and military men the work will be valued
-and purchased. But beyond these, with few exceptions,
-the public will content itself with the means already in its
-power of referring to the history in our libraries. The gentlemen
-in question are, of course, the best judges of their
-own affairs; but it does seem to us that they have erred in
-permitting the <span class='it'>foreign</span> value and reputation of the work to
-influence them in making an American reprint.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk133'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>Ten Thousand a Year. By the Author of The Diary of
-a London Physician. Carey and Hart: Philadelphia.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There are several circumstances connected with this book
-which render it an important topic for the critic. We mean
-its unusual length—the previous reputation of its author—the
-peculiarity of its subject—the apparent under-current
-of <span class='it'>design</span> which has been attributed to it—the wide difference
-of opinion existing in regard to its merit—and, especially,
-the fact of its being, if not precisely the first, yet
-certainly the chief of the class of <span class='it'>periodical</span> novels—the
-peculiar advantages and disadvantages of which it will afford
-a good opportunity for discussing. We much regret,
-therefore, that we have left ourselves no room, in the present
-number of the Magazine, for an extended analysis of
-the work. This we may possibly undertake in December;
-contenting ourselves, in the meantime, with a few observations
-at random.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It appears to us that a main source of the interest which
-this book possesses for the mass, is to be referred to the
-<span class='it'>pecuniary</span> nature of its theme. From beginning to end it
-is an affair of pounds, shillings, and pence—a topic which
-comes home at least <span class='it'>as</span> immediately to the bosoms and business
-of mankind, as any which could be selected. The same
-<span class='it'>character</span> in the choice of subject was displayed by Doctor
-Warren in his “Passages from the Diary of a London Physician.”
-The <span class='it'>bodily health</span> is a point of absolutely universal
-interest, and was made the basis of all the excitement in
-that very popular but shamefully ill-written publication.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ten Thousand a Year” is also “shamefully ill-written.”
-Its mere English is disgraceful to an L.L.D.—would be
-disgraceful to the simplest tyro in rhetoric. At every page
-we meet with sentences thus involved—“In order, however,
-to do this effectually I must go back to an earlier period in
-history than has yet been called to his attention. If it
-[<span class='it'>what?—attention?—history?</span>] shall have been unfortunate
-enough to attract the hasty eye of the superficial and
-impatient novel-reader, I make no doubt that by such a one
-certain portions of what has gone before, and which [<span class='it'>which
-what?</span>] could not fail of attracting the attention of long-headed
-people as being not thrown in for nothing (and therefore
-to be borne in mind with a view to subsequent explanation)
-have been entirely overlooked or forgotten.” The
-book is full too of the grossest misusages of language—the
-most offensive vulgarities of speech and violations of grammar.
-The whole <span class='it'>tone</span> is in the last degree mawkish and inflated.
-What can be more ridiculous that the frequent apostrophising
-after this fashion—“My glorious Kate, how my
-heart goes forth towards you! And thou, her brother! who
-art of kindred spirit, who art supported by philosophy and
-exalted by religion, so that thy constancy cannot be shaken
-or overthrown by the black and ominous swell of trouble
-which is increasing around thee—I know that thou wilt
-outlive the storm—and yet it rocks thee! What indeed is
-to become of you all? Whither will you go? And your suffering
-mother, should she survive so long, is her precious
-form to be borne away from Yatton?” &amp;c. &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There is no attempt at plot—but some of the incidents
-are wofully ill adapted and improbable. The moralising,
-throughout, is tedious in the extreme. Two-thirds of the
-whole novel might have been omitted with advantage. The
-character of Aubrey is a ridiculous piece of overdone sentimentality—and
-in character generally the writer fails.
-One of the worst features of the whole is the transparent
-puerile attempt to throw ridicule upon the ministerial party
-by dubbing them with silly names, supposed to be indicative
-of peculiarities of person or character. While the oppositionists,
-for example, rejoice in the euphonious appellations
-of Aubrey, Delamere, and the like, their foes are called
-Quirk, Gammon, Snap, Bloodsuck, Rotgut, Silly-Punctilio,
-and other more stupid and beastly indecencies.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk134'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><a id='fash'></a></p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i153.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0048' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/>
-<p class='caption'><span style='font-size:smaller'><span class='it'>Latest Fashions, November 1841. For Graham’s Magazine.</span></span></p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk135'/>
-
-<p class='line' style='margin-top:2em;font-size:1.1em;font-weight:bold;'><a id='notes'></a>Transcriber’s Notes:</p>
-
-<p class='noindent'>Table of Contents has been added for reader convenience.
-Archaic spellings and hyphenation have been retained. Obvious
-punctuation and typesetting errors have been corrected
-without note.</p>
-
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-
-<p class='noindent'>[End of <span class='it'>Graham’s Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 5, November 1841</span>, George R. Graham, Editor]</p>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, VOL. XIX, NO. 5, NOVEMBER 1841 ***</div>
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