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diff --git a/old/66935-h/66935-h.htm b/old/66935-h/66935-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index ede60e1..0000000 --- a/old/66935-h/66935-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3789 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. I, No. 6) -, by Students of Yale -—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.h1sub { text-align: center; - font-size: larger; } -.h2sub { text-align: center; } -.h4sub { text-align: center; } - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.double {border-top: double;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } - -hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%;} -hr.r15 {width: 15%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 42.5%; margin-right: 42.5%;} -hr.printed {width: 25%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 70%;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.table1 { - margin: auto; - margin-top: 2em; - width: 99% - } - -.tdl {text-align: left;} -.tdr {text-align: right;} -.tdc {text-align: center;} - -td.title {padding-left: 2em; - text-indent: -2em; - vertical-align: top; - } - -td.pageno { /* TOC page number */ - text-align: right; - vertical-align: bottom; -} - -.pagenum { /* comment the next line for visible page numbers */ - visibility: hidden; - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} /* page numbers */ - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.bb {border-bottom: thin solid;} -.bt {border-top: thin solid;} - -.titlepag - {max-width: 30em; - border: solid thin; - text-align: center; - margin: 2em auto; - padding: 1em;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.gesperrt -{ - letter-spacing: 0.2em; - margin-right: -0.2em; -} - -em.gesperrt -{ - font-style: normal; -} - -.caption p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; - margin: 0.25em 0; - font-size: smaller; -} - -/* Images */ - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} - -img.w100 {width: 100%;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -/* Footnotes */ -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} -/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry in browsers */ -.poetry {display: inline-block;} -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -/* large inline blocks don't split well on paged devices */ -@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } -.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -.illowp100 {width: 100%;} -.x-ebookmaker .illowp100 {width: 100%;} -.illowp78 {width: 78%;} -.x-ebookmaker .illowp100 {width: 100%;} - -/* Poetry indents */ -.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3em;} -.poetry .indent10 {text-indent: 2em;} -.poetry .indent15 {text-indent: 4.5em;} -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} -.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1em;} -.poetry .indent46 {text-indent: 20em;} -.poetry .indent6 {text-indent: 0em;} -.poetry .indent8 {text-indent: 1em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. I, No. 6, August 1836), by Students of Yale</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. I, No. 6, August 1836)</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Students of Yale</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 12, 2021 [eBook #66935]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: hekula03, sf2001, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE (VOL. I, NO. 6, AUGUST 1836) ***</div> - - <div class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_cover" style="max-width: 20em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /> - </div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</span></p> - -<div class="titlepag" style="max-width: 30em;"> -<h1> -<small>THE</small><br /> -YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE. -</h1> - -<p class="h1sub"> -<small>CONDUCTED<br /> -<small>BY THE</small></small><br /> -<span class="gesperrt"><b>STUDENTS OF YALE COLLEGE</b>.</span> -</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp78" id="i_cover-illustration" style="max-width: 18em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_cover-illustration.jpg" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><p> - “Dum mens grata manet, nomen laudesque <span class="smcap">Yalenses</span> - Cantabunt <span class="smcap">Soboles</span>, unanimique <span class="smcap">Patres</span>.” - </p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="r15" /> -<p class="center">NO. VI.</p> -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p class="center">AUGUST, 1836.</p> - -<hr class="double" /> - -<p class="center"> -NEW HAVEN:<br /> -HERRICK & NOYES. -</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> -<p class="center"> -MDCCCXXXVI. -</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Contents">Contents.</h2> -</div> - - -<table summary="Table of Contents"> -<tr><td /><td class="pageno">Page.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#TURKEY_AND_GREECE">Turkey and Greece,</a></td><td class="pageno">209</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#THOUGHTS_ON_THE_DEATH_OF_AN_AGED_FRIEND">Thoughts on the Death of an Aged Friend,</a></td><td class="pageno">214</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#THE_OMNIBUSA">The Omnibus,</a></td><td class="pageno">216</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#MY_MOTHER">Epigram,</a></td><td class="pageno">227</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#THE_COFFEE_CLUB">The Coffee Club, No. IV,</a></td><td class="pageno">228</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#WHAT_IS_BITTER">What is Bitter,</a></td><td class="pageno">241</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#THE_REASON_OF_ANIMALS_NOT_THE_REASON_OF_MAN">The Reason of Animals not the Reason of Man,</a></td><td class="pageno">242</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#DE_LOPEZ_THE_BRAVE">De Lopez, the Brave,</a></td><td class="pageno">246</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#MR_WILLIS">Mr. Willis,</a></td><td class="pageno">249</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#GREEK_ANTHOLOGY_No_VI">Greek Anthology, No. VI,</a></td><td class="pageno">252</td></tr> -<tr><td class="title"><a href="#OUR_MAGAZINE">“Our Magazine,”</a></td><td class="pageno">256</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2> -<small>THE</small><br /> -YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE. -</h2> -</div> - -<table class="table1" summary="Volume Date Edition"> -<colgroup> -<col style="width: 33%;" /> -<col style="width: 33%;" /> -<col style="width: 33%;" /> -</colgroup> -<tbody> -<tr> -<td class="tdl bt bb"><small>VOL. I.</small></td> -<td class="tdc bt bb">AUGUST, 1836.</td> -<td class="tdr bt bb"><small>NO. 6.</small></td> -</tr> -</tbody> -</table> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="TURKEY_AND_GREECE">TURKEY AND GREECE.</h2> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“There is a connection [<i>verbindung</i>] among men, in which no one can work -for himself without working for others.”—<i>Fichte.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The tie of mutual influence passes without a break from hand to hand, -throughout the human family. There is no independence, no insulation, in the -lot of man.”—<i>Natural History of Enthusiasm.</i></p> -</div> - -<p>There is a tendency to regard the commotions of society, which -have taken place of late years, as the results of modern diplomacy, -or of notions concerning human rights, which have received birth -and risen to their present vigor within the last fifty years. Hence, -it is argued, there is a liability to reaction. The bright lights may -go out, and despotism triumph in the moral and political degeneracy. -Yet this view of the matter is very superficial. It is regarding the -trunk as the origin of the tree, overlooking the seed and the root. -The truth is, the principles now developing have their origin with -society. For, all sound political principles have a common foundation—the -rights of man. His selfishness, especially his thirst for -sway, aided by ignorance, has kept through force and fraud the true -principles of human government from being understood and adopted. -Still the ancient kingdoms, the world-empires and all, though now -in their tombs, left inscriptions on their head-stones of diamond worth -to the science of government. They are beacon-lights for the modern -statesman. Their wisdom and their folly, both aid him to discover -the true rules for human government, which have been buried -up and concealed by folly and passion since the days of the Patriarchs, -from whom all civil authority had its rise. Added to this -light of experience, collected by by-gone nations, are other influences -of a physical nature. The application of the magnet to purposes -of navigation, was one of those master thoughts, which, from -its vast importance, we are almost tempted to regard as an idea of -directly divine origin. The influence of this on the whole family of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span> -man, can be best estimated by suffering one’s self to think what the -state of the world would of necessity be, were it entirely unknown. -Again, the application of steam to machinery, is not only changing -the aspect of things in the New World and Europe, but this invention -was a positive act for the moral and physical renovation of Asia and -Africa—an act of such power as must hasten their new birth by centuries. -British steamers are already on their way to explore the Niger. -It is the operation and display of this vast physical force, which -is to be a great means of starting into action the stagnated mind of this -part of our race. These discoveries, it will readily be allowed, can -never cease to operate. Entwined with political experience, they -stand firm barriers to any relapse in the general well being of the -human family; while, year after year, to these and others, which -cannot be mentioned in the limits of a single article, are added the -discoveries of physical and political science, as they occur, until -their increasing light reveals to the common eye, one and another, -and another, of the rights of man, which designing men, “tyrants, -or tyrants’ slaves,” have striven to conceal. Almost every nation -of the earth has had some of its dark places pierced by these accumulating -rays. Despotic powers have been forced to yield up some -part of the prerogatives of the crown, or to surround them with -stronger guards. Constitutional governments have been compelled -to adopt measures of reform, and to pursue a course of policy more -uniformly liberal.</p> - -<p>Amid these commotions, no nations have more attracted the attention -of all classes, than Turkey and Greece. The politician -has watched with no little anxiety the rapid dismemberment of that -power, which has so long stood the great barrier between the East -and West. The scholar has felt a new hope that the mother-land -of mental light may be herself again. While the Christian is assured -that the Almighty is thus shaking the nations for the accomplishment -of his own high ends. He is but making straight the -path of his servants.</p> - -<p>The history of the Turks is remarkable and instructive—in the -sudden rise of their empire—in its long continuance—and precipitate -fall. The wild region of Mount Taurus and Imaus was their -cradle. At once the most barbarous, the rudest, and the most enterprising -of all the Saracen tribes, they penetrated to the banks of -the Caspian Sea, and serving as mercenaries under the Caliphs, acquired -great reputation for military prowess, and soon subjugated the -contending Caliphats to their own sway. Palestine, with its capital -Jerusalem, fell into their hands. Near the middle of the fourteenth -century, they crossed into Europe, and possessed themselves -of Adrianople. In a few years subsequent to this event, the city -of Constantine, to adorn which he had lavished the treasures of his -realm, was doomed to see their triumphant banner floating above -her walls. Epirus soon suffered the fate of Constantinople; and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span> -the land of the orator and philosopher, which built a bulwark against -Xerxes, received their chains. They marched victorious even to -the walls of Vienna; but were finally driven back as far as Greece. -European arms could avail no farther. In other directions this remarkable -people were uniformly successful; until, in the sixteenth -century, the Sultan was lord of thirty kingdoms, containing not less -than eight thousand leagues of sea coast, and some of the fairest -portions of the world. Not only those regions which have been -rendered famous as the homes of the great masters of sculpture, -song and philosophy, but the land of the Patriarchs, where were -exhibited the thrilling scenes of the accomplishment of the covenant -of God with man—Baghdad, the court of the science-loving -Caliphs—Egypt—and the countries of Asia Minor, whose luxuriance -not even Turkish thraldom and indolence has sufficed to destroy.</p> - -<p>But this great empire was in itself radically defective. The government -depended on extortion for its revenue—on physical force -or a degrading imposture for obedience; neither of which, whatever -may have been the case in other days, could be safely trusted, in -the light which is breaking over the human family, and over the -Turks as a part of it. The present Sultan found himself in the dilemma -between reform on the one hand, in accomplishing which his -throne, and perhaps his life would be jeopardized, and certain destruction -on the other. In choosing the least of these evils, Greece, -Egypt, and Palestine, were severed from his empire. Mahomet -Ali would have attacked him in his capital, but for the interposition -of the Tzar, who was fearful of losing a prize which has ever been -the object of Muscovite ambition, the throne of Constantine. But -while the black Eagle of Russia spread his wings as a shelter for -the Turk, he coolly seized in his talons the keys of the Dardanelles; -thus rendering any further interposition on the part of England, -who has so often balked the Tzar in his darling project, entirely -futile. Since which event, the fall of Turkey has been pronounced -as certain by all. What is to be its precise effect on the politics -of Europe, is a question which only a Talleyrand or a Metternich -could answer with any probability of truth. Yet the foregoing -remarks exhibit facts from which consequences of high importance -must follow.</p> - -<p>They exhibit the empire of the Ottomans as once occupying a -proud station among the greater powers—as forming a boundary -and preserving a balance between the East and West—as a firm -check on Muscovite ambition—and as, from her consequence, possessing -great weight in the councils of nations; and it is apparent -that she cannot fall without important political consequences.</p> - -<p>They exhibit her with a religion, which has ever been a bane to -all nobler sentiments or aspirations of the soul, brooding like night -over some of the fairest portions of the earth, blasting by the baleful -influence of her institutions the legitimate effect, both on mind -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span> -and body, of her naturally fair plains, rich vallies, and brilliant skies, -which, in other times, produced models for an Apollo Belvidere -and a Venus de Medici, and nourished men who were masters of -the earth and of mind; and it is evident that she cannot fall without -important consequences to the beaux Arts and Literature.</p> - -<p>They exhibit her, as the main support and promoter of the debasing, -sensual tenets of Mahomet, in countries where the Apostles, -and even Christ, toiled and suffered. They exhibit her, as the -systematic opposer of the message of the Prince of Peace, to her -distracted provinces—the only balm for their wounds—the only -physician for their souls; and the effect of her fall on the highest -of interests cannot be unimportant.</p> - -<p>What then is to be the influence of the prostration of the Ottoman -sway in these cradles of early knowledge, upon literature, science, -and the beaux arts?</p> - -<p>Winklemann, in his history of sculpture, assigns as a principal -reason of the superiority of the Greeks in that sublime art over -other nations, the circumstance of their inhabiting a land so surpassingly -endowed by nature; and with much truth. Their bodies, neither -chilled nor contracted by the long winters of the north, nor -softened into lassitude and effeminacy by the tropical sun, but continually -moving and breathing in the purest air, under the mildest -and most brilliant of skies, whose loveliness was constantly exciting -in the mind the most agreeable trains of thought, attained, in their -fair proportions, to a harmonious keeping with the beauty around.</p> - -<p>Close observation must convince every candid mind, that there is -some truth in the grand outlines of Phrenology. Forms such as -aided in the conception of those master pieces of ancient statuary, -were never, and never will be, inhabited by inferior or grovelling -spirits. Vitiated they may be by extraneous circumstances. Their -noble faculties may be turned to unworthy purposes. Corrupted by -long intercourse with the morally debased, they may, like the modern -Greek, suffer the imputation of being worse than their examples. -But this is the proof of the position. They are bad, but -like Lucifer they are greatly so.</p> - -<p>How long is this to be the case with Greece? Emphatically no -longer. Already by the aid of the missionary and foreign science, -she is realizing the fable of the renascent phenix; already are those -whose beauty of person long years of servitude have been unable to -destroy, renewing the moral beauty of the spirit within; already are -they turning those powers which made them remarkable in depravity -to their proper channels. And he, whose love for the human -family, or reverence for the classic scenes of Greece, has led him to -peruse the late accounts from thence: if he has observed the avidity -with which they seek instruction, when they once taste of its sweets: -if he has noticed their teachable spirit, rapid improvement, exhibitions -of ingenuity and taste: his bosom has exulted in the sober certainty -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span> -that Greece will be herself again. But why has this fair morn -at last dawned over this singularly illustrious land? The answer is -plain. Mahometan despotism and ignorance no longer hold sway -within her borders. If this be so, what is to be the effect of the removal -of Turkish intolerance and misrule, and the establishment of -an enlightened and responsible government over the shores of the -Levant, in the same parallels of latitude? Are the fields of Anatolia -less rich than those of Greece, or her harbors less promising for -commerce? or are the Greeks, scattered through those regions, who -at least double the number of those in their father-land, less capable -of moral improvement? Is the conclusion drawn from unfair premises, -that the day of the deliverance of this country is near—that the -angel of knowledge will again spread his wings over Anatolia, Palestine, -Arabia, Egypt, her ancient home? The conclusion is not, can -not be false. The same physical influences operate now as in days -of old, though the misrule of man may have marred their effects. -The same high cast of mind is there which won immortality for their -fathers: and why may not spring up in those regions, under a wiser -government, and a purer religion, a people, in arts and science even -superior to the ancients? Why may there not arise, under the auspices -of virtue and wisdom, new models for a Venus or an Apollo? -Why may not the Parian marble there rise into temples of as fair -proportions as that of Olympus or of Minerva, reared for nobler purposes, -dedicated to a far higher and holier worship?</p> - -<p>The influence of the subversion of the greatest rival of the Christian -church, is a subject replete with interest. When the mere politician, -unswayed by the fond hope which might influence the Christian’s -decision, publishes to the world as certain the prostration of -Turkey—when the disciple of Jesus may at length point the startled -infidel to the tottering fabric of Mahometanism, which he has impiously -dared to name as co-enduring and co-equal with the pure -Christian faith, and bid him look on, as column after column is torn -away from the crumbling structure, as Immanuel is triumphing -where Mahomet ruled—when the finger of the Almighty is writing -as palpably the sentence of this unparalleled imposture as when it -traced on the wall the doom of Babylon—what heart does not glow -with deeper gratitude, overflow with more fervent thanksgivings, and -pray with strengthened faith?</p> - -<p>The time is to be when “nations shall be born in a day:” and -from the ardent character of the east, it seems not improbable that -it is to be witness of this latter as it was of the former triumphing of -the cross.</p> - -<p>It is an especial appointment of providence, that nations more advanced -in civilization must necessarily labor for the improvement of -those which are less so. So the East once labored for the West. -Now the nations of the west, with their Institutions of Learning—their -Presses—their Forges—their Dock Yards—working together -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span> -for the perfection of human knowledge, and for facilitating its diffusion—pour -light of constantly increasing brightness over the East. -Still greater commotions must soon follow in these early inhabited -regions. Their renovation must advance rapidly and steadily. -There may and doubtless will be times of apparent retrogradation, -but it will be like the flood-tide waves, which roll back from the -shore only to mount still higher on their return. It may be said -that these things are uncertain, because they are future; but it is -not necessarily so. The diffusion of sound political principles, and -the rising of the Sun of Righteousness over these nations, seem as -clearly heralded by these events, as is the coming of the material -sun when morning is breaking in the east, the night-damps leaving -the earth, the clouds decking themselves in gold and purple, and all -nature waking for the duties of a new day.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THOUGHTS_ON_THE_DEATH_OF_AN_AGED_FRIEND">THOUGHTS ON THE DEATH OF AN AGED FRIEND.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">I stood beside his death-bed, and a smile,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Like the last glance of the departing sun,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Played on his features; life was ebbing fast,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And death was creeping o’er him stealthily—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And yet he smiled, as the last hour came on.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">We gathered round him, and his eye grew dim,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And his voice faltered, and the shortening breath</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Came through his parted lips convulsively—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The last faint accents of a murmured prayer:</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And then we turned us from his couch, and wept</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That the dear ties were severed, which had bound</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Our hearts in kindred intercourse:—We grieved</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That he whom we had loved so tenderly,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Should pass away with the forgotten dead.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Oh, there is something saddening in the thought</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of death, whene’er it comes. To stand beside</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The death-bed of a dear and cherished one;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To mark the tristful pangs, the hopes and fears,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To see the perishing form of loveliness,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And hear the last fond parting word—<i>farewell!</i></div> - <div class="verse indent0">And then to gaze upon the lifeless form,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To part the damp locks from the marble brow,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And wipe the death-dews which have gather’d there;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To lay the sleeper in his narrow house,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And leave him with the cold and listless dead,—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh, it is saddening!—and the tide of tears—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The warm, warm tears, that gush from feeling hearts—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh, they are holy!—And there is a bliss,</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span></p> </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">When the heart swells with anguish, and when grief</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Chokes up the spirit in its agony—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh, there is something—and ’tis like the dew</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Which evening sheds upon the summer flower,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And weighs it down, until it bows itself,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And pours the bright drops from its secret cell.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Oh, holy is the fountain of those tears,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And pure their gushing.  ’Tis a holy thing</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To weep at such an hour.  ’Tis manliness</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To yield the heart to feeling, and to loose</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The shackles that so cramp its energies,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And bind it down to the unfeeling world.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Yet why thus mourn for those who die, when age</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Has made existence but a weariness?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Why grieve that they should cast aside the coil</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That binds them to the earth and wretchedness?</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">We do not weep at Autumn; when the leaves</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Lie in the valleys—mortals never weep</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When the tree casts its fruitage, or when flowers,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Blooming through the mild months, all fade away</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In their appointed season: Then why weep</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For those whose years have passed the destined bourne</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of man’s existence.—Rather let us weep</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For the young flower that blossometh and dies,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ere it hath seen the noon-day. Rather mourn</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For those, the sweet and beautiful of earth,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Who die in youth’s bright morning.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Tears for the flowers, and the young buds of hope,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That wreathe Death’s altar:—let us weep for them.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But let us dash away the sorrowing tear,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That falls upon the aged sleeper’s grave;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And joy that he has left this sinful world,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And sought a purer and a happier sphere,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Where sorrow never comes, and where no care</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Blanches the cheek, and makes the spirit sad;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Where sin hath never entered, to pollute</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The perfect sense of happiness; where all</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The great and good of earth for ever dwell,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In the soft sun-shine of <i>Eternal youth</i>.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right">H.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_OMNIBUSA">“THE OMNIBUS.”<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> An “Omnibus” (this explanation is one of pure politeness on our part, and for -the sake of the uninitiated) is a substitute for an Album; in which, any thing, every -thing, and nothing, are quartered heterogeneously, and made good friends—supposing -all this time that the thing be kept within the pale of proprieties. They -are with, or without covers—written in black or red ink—up or down—crossways -or otherwise, just as it happens. They were first got up by a certain <i>coterie</i> of ladies, -who had sense enough to see that “Albums” are very sentimental and very -ridiculous, owing to the extreme nicety with which a man must scribble for them; -and that by introducing a little more latitude in this respect, the evil might in a -measure be remedied. The result, ’tis thought, has shown their wisdom.</p> - -</div> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p>“Come, write in my ‘Omnibus,’” said a sweet girl to me, with an -eye that made one’s heart bump, and a lip that made him dream -dreams. I looked into that eye, and at that lip—they almost unmanned -me, yet I shook my head.</p> - -<p>She looked imploringly.</p> - -<p>“Can’t,” stammered I at last, though it choked me to say so.</p> - -<p>“Pray do,” and she laid her soft white hand on mine. Heavens -and Earth! how the touch of that little hand thrilled through me—burnt -along my arm—then down into my heart. Yet I remembered -my resolution—I made it the day before—I swore by my happiness -I’d never touch pen again. Still, there lay that hand—the -long tapering fingers—I counted them one way, then t’other—how -pretty they looked! I tried to look away—I looked at the -four corners of heaven—some how or other, my eyes came right -back again. Then I felt a soft pressure, those fingers contracted, -they clasped—it was all over with me—the grasp of Hercules were -nothing to it.</p> - -<p>The first thing I did was to kiss them—the next, find my senses. -She blushed, I fidgeted.</p> - -<p>“Think out something”—the sound was like a brook in summer.</p> - -<p>So I thought, and thought, and thought—</p> - -<p>Thought I was by the ocean. Every body has stood by the -ocean. Every body loves the ocean. They love it because ’tis -beautiful. They love it because ’tis terrible. Who that could -ever tell his passions, as he has seen the giant rouse himself—the -black sky split by the thunder-bolt, and so brazen and fiery that it -seemed crisping, and “about to roll away with a great noise”—the -driving wind—the bellowing thunder—the crashing deck—the rattling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span> -cordage—the death shriek of the sea-shipped wretch as the -wave went over him—the horror-like eye’s last glance upon you! -But I don’t mean such an ocean. It wasn’t such an one that I was -standing by. It was a pretty considerable, magnificent, almighty, -great sheet of water as far as the eye went, with a sky above that -made one’s heart leap to look at it—its depth of blue seeming to -stretch away and away, field after field, without a mist or cloud in it -to mar its beauty—one unbounded, unshadowed sweep of glory and -magnificence. The winds, soft and balmy, went whirling and whimpering -along its surface, curling and crinkling it into small white -waves, that, racing and capering up the beach, sparkled and turned -into bubbles, and were caught up by the sun beams. Here -and there the waters break. The huge porpoise went plunging, -and sousing, and weltering along his blue path, flapping his huge tail -into the air, and grunting his happiness—the bright light refracted -from his surface, came to the eye like a rainbow. Here and there -the flying fish slipped from his element, and went careering away -over the far waters, till with a light dash or slap, his white wings -dipped again into the ocean. The distance had one sail, a single -one, right on the horizon’s edge—type, methought, of a being shut -from the world—a human heart cut loose from sympathy—on the -black desert of man’s pilgrimage. Such was the scene. I felt it. I -rose, and stood, and shouted, and—</p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p>Thought I was down in the ocean—right on the bottom. Whew! -what a place it was!—saw all sorts of things, living and dead—all -colors, good and bad—all shapes, hateful and fascinating. Here I -wandered through endless groves of coral. Aloft went the light -shafts tapering away into the blue distance, then branching forth into -a glorious canopy, through which came the broken light with a mellowed -beauty, not unlike the sun’s beams through a polished fresco-worken -slab of alabaster. The waves swung backwards and forwards -through this submarine forest, and their rush made the tall -shafts quiver like aspen boughs in the tempest wind; and the light -coral twigs, here and there detached by the waters, fell thick and fast -like star showers in wintry nights. Nor should I forget the sounds of -those waters as they tossed up the shells which were scattered there, -and witched from them a music, that tripped and tilted through the -brain, like Mab and her melodies in moonlight vision. It changed! -I was in a desert! Rocks and barren surfaces above, beneath, around -me! Wild cliffs—rent fastnesses—deep chasms—yawning and gaping -like the cleft jaws of Hell! They had wrecks, and ruins, and -dead men, and skeletons, and skulls in them. Here were fragments -of those mighty tenements, that once rode in triumph on the wave’s -surface. There were those black engines, wont to belch forth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span> -“their devilish glut,” and flame, and thunder. Here were skeletons—some -hugging in mortal conflict. They were grappled together, -as when death overtook them—their jaws yet apart, as the -last curse dwelt on them, the moment the bolt came. There were -friends too, parent and child, husband and wife, lover and maiden—laid -as they died, locked heart to heart, each on the other’s breast, -the two a unity. I sickened, shuddered, gasped—</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p>Thought I was in a forest—a bright, a green, a glorious forest. -My heart ached, and I had turned from the heated world and its -miseries, and where the lofty branches had intertwined and woven -a pleasant twilight dwelling place, I sat me down to meditate. Then -I scribbled and scribbled—and thus, I scribbled—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">This is indeed a sacred solitude,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And beautiful as sacred. Here no sound</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Save such as breathes a soft tranquillity,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Falls on the ear; and all around, the eye</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Meets nought but hath a moral. These deep shades—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With here and there an upright trunk of ash</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Or beech or nut, whose branches interlaced</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O’ercanopy us, and, shutting out the day,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A twilight make—they press upon the heart</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With force amazing and unutterable.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">These trunks enormous, from the mountain side</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ripp’d roots and all by whirlwinds—those vast pines</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Athwart the ravine’s melancholy gloom</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Transversely cast—these monarchs of the wood,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Dark, gnarl’d, centennial oaks that throw their arms</div> - <div class="verse indent0">So proudly up—those monstrous ribs of rock</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That, shiver’d by the thunder-stroke, and hurl’d</div> - <div class="verse indent0">From yonder cliff, their bed for centuries,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Here crush’d and wedged—all by their massiveness</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And silent strength, impress us with a sense</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of Deity. And here are wanted not</div> - <div class="verse indent0">More delicate forms of beauty. Numerous tribes</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of natural flowers do blossom in these shades,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Meet for the scene alone. At ev’ry step,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Some beauteous combination of soft hues,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Less brilliant though than those which deck the fields,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The eye attracts. Mosses of softest green,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Creep round the trunks of the decayed trees;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And mosses, hueless as the mountain snow,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Inlay the turf. Here, softly peeping forth,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The eye detects the little violet</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Such as the city boasts—of paler hue,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But fragrant more. The simple forest flower,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And that pale gem the wind flower, falsely named,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Here greet the cautious search—less beautiful</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span></p> - <div class="verse indent0">Than poets feign, though lovely to the eye.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">These with their modest forms so delicate,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And breath of perfume, send th’ unwilling heart</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And all its aspirations, to the source</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of Life and Light. Nor woodland sounds are wanting,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Such as the mind to that soft melancholy</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The poet feels, lull soothingly. The winds</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Are playing with the forest tops in glee,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And music make. Sweet rivulets</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Slip here and there from out the crevices</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of rifled rocks, and, welling ’mid the roots</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of prostrate trees or blocks transversely east,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Form jets of driven snow. Soft symphonies</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of birds unseen, on ev’ry side swell out,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">As if the spirit of the wood complain’d</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Harmonious, and most prodigal of sound;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And these can woo the spirit with such power,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And tune it to a mood so exquisite—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That the enthusiast heart forgets the world,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Its strifes, and follies—and seeks only here</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To satisfy its thirst for happiness.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p>Thought I was on an island—the brightest thing ever dancing in -a poet’s vision, a perfect Eden-spot, an Elysium—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent4">Ye of the pure heart, come to me!</div> - <div class="verse indent4">List to a tale of Poesy;</div> - <div class="verse indent4">List—for, for it, ye may better be—</div> - <div class="verse indent4">So scorn not the minstrel’s minstrelsy.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ye with a brow like the broken wave’s drift,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With an eye whose light is the first star of even,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When it streameth afar through the sky’s red rift,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The only and loveliest thing in heaven;—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ye with a cheek like the marble fair,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Ye with a lip like the bright summer dew,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ye with a softness and loveliness there</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That Fancy never drew;—</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Whose hands and whose hearts have been ever lent,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">As spirits of mercy from Heaven sent:—</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Ye have the pure heart—come to me!</div> - <div class="verse indent4">List to a tale of poesy;</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Give me your ear—give me your smile—</div> - <div class="verse indent4">List to the lay of ‘The happy Isle.’</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent4">That Isle—so beautiful to view!</div> - <div class="verse indent4">No poet’s fancy ever drew;</div> - <div class="verse indent4">He had not dreamed of such a thing,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">With all the beauty he could bring.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span> - <div class="verse indent0">It lay upon the open sea,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">It lay beneath the stars and sun—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A thing, too beautiful to be,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A jewel, cast that sea upon.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The winds came upward to the beach—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The waves came rolling up the sand—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Then backward with a gentle reach,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Now forward to the land,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Sparkling and beautiful—tossing there,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Then vanishing into the air.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The winds came upward to the beach—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The waves came upward in a curl—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Then far along the shore’s slope reach,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">There ran a line of pearl.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And shells were there of every hue—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">From snowy white, to burning gold—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The jasper, and the Tyrian blue—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The sardonyx and emerald;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And o’er them as the soft winds crept,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A melody from each was swept—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For melody within each slept,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Harmoniously blended;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And never, till the winds gave out,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And ceased the surf its tiny shout,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">That melody was ended:</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Morn, noon, and eve, was heard to be,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The music of those shells and sea.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The winds went upward from the deep—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The winds went up across the sand—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And never did the sea winds sweep</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Over a lovelier land.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The northern seas, the southern shores,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The eastern, and the western isles,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Had rifled all their sweets and stores,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To deck this lovely place with smiles:</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And mounts were here, and tipp’d with green,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And kindled by the glowing sun;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And vales were here, and stretch’d between,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Where waters frolic’d in their fun:</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And goats were feeding in the light,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And birds were in the green-wood halls;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And, echoing o’er each hilly height,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Was heard the dash of waterfalls:</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O! all was beauty, bliss, and sound;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A Sabbath sweetness reigned around;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">All was delight—for every thing</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Was robed in loveliness and spring—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Color, and fragrance, fruit, and flower,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Were here within this Island bower.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">But purer, sweeter, brighter far—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Brighter than Even’s earliest star,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Was she, the spirit of the place,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The mortal with an angel’s face.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A form of youthful innocence,</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span></p> - <div class="verse indent2">With love, and grace, and beauty rife—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">As erst, from ocean’s tossing foam,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Fair Venus sparkled into life.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Around her pale and placid brow,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">By long and auburn ringlets hid,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A radiant flame ran circling,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And o’er her face a lustre shed.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Her eye, so full—a spirit nursed,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">So blue—it seem’d a part of heaven,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">So light—it was the sudden burst</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of meteors mid the stars of even.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A robe of azure pale she wore,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Her matchless symmetry concealing;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Save where her bodice oped before,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Her soft and snowy breast revealing.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And in her hand (her arms were free)</div> - <div class="verse indent2">She bore a reed from ocean’s side;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Her feet were bare— * * *</div> - <div class="verse indent2">* * * * * * *</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p>Thought I was in love. Heavens! what a creature she was! -Her form was like a fairy’s; and her face, about which the flaxen -ringlets fell long, and soft, and silky, was at once so arch and sweet, -it witched the very soul out of me before I knew it. Her picture -is before me.—Her head like Juno’s, when she walked before the -Olympic Thunderer, and yet a woman’s; her brow, high, and white, -and pure; eyes of heaven’s own coloring, and bright, and ustrous, -and large, and full, in whose crystalline depths slept a soul such as—as—you -must guess at, reader, I can’t think of a comparison; a -cheek, the eloquent beauty of which melted away so gradually into -the pure transparency of her temples, that the eye lost it, and was -wandering away, up, and around them, before it became aware of its -own vagaries; and her mouth—Heavens and Earth! it was altogether -and absolutely, the sweetest, prettiest, pouting, come-kiss-me, -little mouth, I ever looked at; and her voice—her voice—how clear -and musical—there was nothing like her clear, happy laugh—it rung -like an instrument—like the silvery bell in the Faery Tale; and -when she prettily bade me sit at her feet, and look up into her clear -bright eyes—pooh! I might as well have attempted to knock Destiny -on the head at once, and steer the boat of life myself, as keep -from doing her bidding; and her form, robed as she was in her white -cymar, with a single rose in her hair—the neck—the full bust—the -rounded arm—the graceful curvature and wavy sweep of her folded -dress, as it swelled from her glittering zone and fell to her feet—dear -me! dear me—I—but this will do for a description.</p> - -<p>Her name was Fan.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span></p> - -<p>One beautiful twilight—I shan’t forget it soon—one twilight, as -the sun went, and right over his glorious resting place, the clouds -of evening, like an enormous sweep of woven chrysolite, hung pinned -by a single star to the blue wall of heaven—I sat and gazed at -that star, then into her eyes; now into her eyes, and then at that -star again; and—I grew silly.</p> - -<p>Says I, “Fan!”</p> - -<p>Says she, “Frank!”</p> - -<p>“You are very pretty,” says Frank.</p> - -<p>“You are very impudent,” says Fan.</p> - -<p>She shook her head at me, and drew her mouth into the queerest -pucker imaginable.</p> - -<p>“Fanny,” said I seriously.</p> - -<p>She sobered.</p> - -<p>Some how or other, I got hold of her hand—’twas a pretty hand! -I kissed it.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be silly;” and she gave me a cuff that made me see stars.</p> - -<p>“Fanny, I”—</p> - -<p>She looked softly at me.</p> - -<p>“Dearest Fanny, I”—</p> - -<p>She pouted.</p> - -<p>“I—I”—</p> - -<p>She blushed.</p> - -<p>“I—love you.”</p> - -<p>She sprang into my arms.</p> - -<p>Bending back her head, and shaking her long locks from her -pretty brow, our lips—</p> - -<p>Hillo! reader, you are not getting sentimental, are you? Don’t -now; for I’ve no sympathy with you—no more sentiment than a horse.</p> - -<p>But stop; here’s a bit, and written when things were tremendous. -<i>Ecce signum!</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">O Fanny, sweet Fanny,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I cannot tell why,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But I live in the glance</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of thy witching blue eye—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In the light of the spirit</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And loveliness there:</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O! I cannot tell why</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I so love you, my fair!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">It is not—it is not</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Its mild beaming—far,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Far excelling each lonely</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And dim gleaming star;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">It is not the beauty,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The sweetness of face,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The form of perfection,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The movement of grace!</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span></p> </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">It is not, thou lovest me—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For ere I had heard</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy low sweet confession</div> - <div class="verse indent2">As murmur of bird;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ere thou told’st me, my beauty,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thy dreams were all mine;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">I cannot tell thee why—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But I knew I was thine.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">A charm floats around,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And I feel while with thee,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Though a poor silly captive,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">No wish to be free;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O! thus to be bound</div> - <div class="verse indent2">In a thraldom like this—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Though a thraldom indeed,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">’Tis the sweetest of bliss!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">I am thine, dearest Fanny,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Yea, thine and forever—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">No dark storm of sorrow</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Our young hearts shall sever;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">We’ll live, dream, and sigh, love,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Till time is no more;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And when death comes, we’ll fly, love,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To a sunnier shore!</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>I suppose I felt considerably relieved after this Ætnæan effusion. -’Twould have cooled the furnace where they put Shadrach, Meshach -and Abednego. But hear the sequel! We pouted, quarreled, -parted.</p> - -<p>After our first pout, I scribbled as follows—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">O! girls fantastic creatures are,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Vexing us—teasing us;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Now they’re here, now they’re there,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Perplexing us—pleasing us;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">See you here a soft blue ee,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">O! beware—O! beware;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For it melteth but to be</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For a snare—for a snare.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">I have loved a gentle girl;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">How I loved—how I loved—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Witness it, my bosom’s whirl</div> - <div class="verse indent2">When she moved—when she moved;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Life, soul, feeling, all sincere,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Bound up in her—bound up in her;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">She has left me, and I’m here,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A wound up sinner—a wound up sinner.</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span></p> </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Left me, and without a smile,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Save a cold one—save a cold one;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Not a word there fell the while,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Save some old one—save some old one;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">My heart about to burst, and chain’d</div> - <div class="verse indent2">As by a spell—as by a spell;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">She could falter, unconstrained,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Fare thee well—fare thee well.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">O! I loved her; (may I be</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For it forgiven—for it forgiven;)</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Rather, than a thing of clay,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">As a thing of Heaven—a thing of Heaven;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Feelings, none I had but went</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Straightway there—straightway there;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When I prayed, her image blent</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With my prayer—with my prayer.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">When she went, there was I,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Like her shade—like her shade—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When she call’d, I was by,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And there I staid—there I staid;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">If her soft eye sadden’d seem’d,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I could smile—I could smile—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Till that soft eye gladden’d seemed,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">As erewhile—as erewhile.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">I presented her a ring,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Which she took—which she took;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And her words fell murmuring,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Like a brook—like a brook;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Soft her eye’s glance fell upon me,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Even there—even there—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When its gentle meanings won me</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Like a prayer—like a prayer.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">She has left me, and I’m here,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Desolate—desolate;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">She has left me, nor a tear</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For my fate—for my fate:</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O! to be thus coldly parted,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Nor relief—nor relief—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And to be thus broken hearted,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">This is grief—this is grief.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Yet, I love her—I confess it,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">More than ever—more than ever;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Love’s a stream—you can’t repress it,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Mine’s a river! mine’s a river!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Life, soul, feeling, all are given,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">All my store—all my store;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In her, round her—there’s my Heaven,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I want no more—I want no more.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span></p> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<p>Thought I was with my mother. Mother! reader, hast thou a -mother? not a mere nominal parent—one who brought thee into -the world, and then left thee to struggle in’t—one who gave thee -but a moiety of her tenderness? Nay, nay; I do not mean such. -But I mean, one whose very life was wrapp’d up in thee, one whose -eye moistened with thine, whose voice faltered with thine, whose -heart reflected every shadow which passed over thy heart, even as -a lake the summer clouds, that idle above its bosom. Such an one -I mean—hadst ever such? I had—and how I loved her. Did I -not?—the following verses prove it.</p> - -<h4 id="MY_MOTHER">MY MOTHER:</h4> - -<p class="h4sub">(<i>In two Sonnets.</i>)</p> - -<h5>I.</h5> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Dew to the thirsty flower, a rosy beam</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of sunshine, or the melodies to Spring—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Sounds to the sick man’s ear, a running stream,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A humming-bird, a wild bee on the wing;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Joy—to the earth-scorn’d soul, when all remote</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Is happiness and e’en Hope’s lamp is dim;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Light—to the dungeon wretch, when the last note</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Comes through his grate of the sweet forest hymn;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Her first-born’s breath that the young mother feels,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">When her dimm’d eye falls on her little one—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A maiden’s priceless faith that love reveals,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">When heart meets heart in holy unison;—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Than these—than all—O! sweeter far to me,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Mother! are thoughts of home, of my sweet home, and thee.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h5>II.</h5> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Virtue—with the first dawn of infant mind,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Falling from lips that made it holier seem;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Goodness—when deeds with precept were combined,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To show the world—“religion is no dream;”</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Tears—when my heart was all too sad to weep them,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Cares—when affliction press’d me bitterly,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Watching—when none but love like thine could keep them,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Rebukes—yet with a blessing in thine eye;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">An eye that watch’d me and would never sleep,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A well-timed word to keep me in the way,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A look, that made me go from thee and weep,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A faith, that made thee watch, and kneel, and pray—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">These, these are thine—O! sweet are then to me,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Mother! the thoughts of home, of my sweet home, and thee.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Thus I valued her. But she’s in her grave now, and I often go -there to watch and weep, and please myself with the vain fancy, -that her spirit is bending over me. I always feel holier after it—as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span> -if I had come from another world—had been beyond the grave—had -unravelled the great mysteries of life and death, and could now -look upon life unsway’d by that natural Atheism which ever clings -to humanity, and mingles in all our aspirations for the future. -Watching and prayer ever better us. But by the grave of a loved -one, there are still holier influences. We see them through the -mirror of feeling. If they had faults, they have them no longer; -and their virtues, we canonize them—they are relics—they are talismans -which we lay on our hearts, and they are holier for the contact.</p> - -<p>Earth’s thoughts come not to the grave’s side. The idle, the -giddy and gay, they do not jest here—the song of triumph ceases, -the unfinished quip dies on the lip that made it. The famed, the -haughty, the ambitious, they bring not their proud thoughts with -them—they tread its holy precincts, and their schemes are forgotten. -The school boy’s whistle is lower here, and the butterfly he -chases so eagerly, scales the white palings and escapes—he will not -follow him. The very flowers that bloom here, the osiers that -swathe the grave of that little one and twine about the head stones—they -teach us by their freshness, and our thoughts stir up the fountains -in us, and the heart is hallowed by it.</p> - -<p>Come hither, thou parent—a father perhaps. This was thy -heart’s pride and passion. Hope and promise were his. You had -already marked his path. Here were the flowers—there the thorns. -You saw him in fancy, out of his boyhood—the youth—the young -man—his cheek glowing for the contest. Death came—and you -laid him here.</p> - -<p>Come hither, thou parent—a mother perhaps. This was thy -first born. You bore him on your heart; you nursed him; you -hung over him; you wept and prayed for him as mothers only can -do; and <i>you</i> too, have laid him here. The little form you decked -so—the locks that swung over a brow of silver—the face with its -beauty, and light, and sweetness, and all the innocency of happy -childhood—the clear silver shout of his joy—the step that ran to -thee—the lip that pouted for the morning and evening kiss—aye! -here they are—look at them.</p> - -<p>And who art thou, mourner?—thou that lookest not up to the -glorious sky, or abroad on the fair face of the creation of God; but, -wrapped in the selfishness and solitude of thy grief, standest here -like a lone monument of dead men’s histories—who art thou? -Thine eye is on that slab there; ’tis a maiden’s. Thou lovedst her -perhaps; her heart beat to thee; her lip was free to thy wooing. -She was decked for a bridal; the rite had sealed her thine; and -death strewed thy bridal couch with rosemary, and rue, and the -gloomy cypress.</p> - -<p>And what do these here? They come here to weep, for it sanctifies -them. They come from the roar, and bustle, and heartlessness -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span> -of life, and they would listen awhile to the eloquence of the -shrouded dead. O! the dead are eloquent! The voice is low, yet -louder than that of many waters! They tell us that our loved ones -were not ours! They tell us that they were lent to us, and have now -been reclaimed! They tell us, that though saddening, ’tis sweet -to think of them, for they tie us and our souls to the purity of -Heaven!</p> - -<p>Some men shudder as they look into a grave; and well they -may, some of the world. But the heart is wrong which feels thus. -Does the sight of land give pain to the shipwrecked? is the hope -of freedom unwelcome at the dungeon? does the sound of waters -please in the desert? does the thought of sleep annoy us when -weary? does the hope of oblivion give pain when the heart aches? -Why then should the thought of what is greater gain than all these -come to our hearts, but to waken their holiest emotions?</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">O! ’tis because there is a power within,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Whisp’ring of good neglected—ill preferred—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Duties cast off, and faculties misus’d!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">It is, because the mortal triumphs, while</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The purer passions, crushed or rooted out,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Leave him to be enslaved,—and thus in moments</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When meditation, like a vestal waits</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Upon his heart, the buoyancy and peace</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Which should be his, give place to heaviness,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And indefinable wretchedness of soul.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O! could the heart be school’d—could it be made</div> - <div class="verse indent0">True to its nature—to the impress graved</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Upon it by the hand of Deity—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Could it be made to balance good and ill,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With purpose to be wise—could it but choose</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The pure, and love it for its purity—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">How blissful then, were thoughts of death and Heaven!</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There—young lady! I’ve <i>thought</i> for your “Omnibus,”—pray, -what do you think?</p> - -<p class="right"> -* -</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="EPIGRAM">EPIGRAM,<br /> -<small>ON MR. ——, A BAD SINGER.</small></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">The song of Orpheus and yours are one,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Both caused mankind and beast to run,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Only—<i>in different ways</i>;</div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>To</i> him they went like wild deer freed,</div> - <div class="verse indent0"><i>From</i> you they go with equal speed,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To shun your “awful lays.”</div> - <div class="verse right">Z.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_COFFEE_CLUB">THE COFFEE CLUB.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">No. IV.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Authors who acquire a reputation by pilfering all their beauties from others, -may be compared to Harlequin and his snuff, which he collected by borrowing a -pinch out of every man’s box he could meet, and then retailed it under the pompous -title of ‘<i>tabác de mille fleurs</i>.’”</p> - -<p class="right"> -<i>Fitzosborne’s Letters.</i> -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“If the work cannot boast of a regular plan, (in which respect, however, I do -not think it altogether indefensible,) it may yet boast that the reflections are naturally -suggested always by the preceding passage.”</p> - -<p class="right"> -<i>Cowper’s Letters.</i> -</p> - -</div> - -<p><i>No est tan bravo il leon, como se pinta</i>—the lion is not so fierce -as his picture—says the Spanish proverb, and such will doubtless be -your exclamation, fair, gentle, indulgent, or judicious reader, (by -whichever title you may please to be addressed,) when you discover -that the heroes of the Coffee Club, invested by your scrutinizing sagacity -with so many fictitious attributes, whether of honor or of -dishonor, are in truth but cognate atoms with yourself in making up -the mass of our small and secluded community. Nor will your self-satisfaction -be at all enhanced, by the remembrance of the astute -conjectures, ‘positive certainties,’ ‘perfect convictions,’ and ‘confidential -informations,’ which have afforded you matter of exultation -for a season, but are, by the revealment of the truth, shown to be unfounded, -and if cherished with vanity, ridiculous. Each, however, -may soothe his chagrin, with the assurance that no one was wiser -than himself, and that the secret, which baffled his endeavors, not -even the talismanic power of woman’s curiosity could elicit.</p> - -<p>It is the eve of the farewell exercises of the class, and the last -meeting of the Coffee Club. Tristo had thrown gloom upon our -spirits, by a mournful <i>epitaph</i> upon the pleasures and the duties, -now buried in the past—but Pulito has reversed our feelings by a -brilliant <i>epithalamium</i>, for our coming bridal day, on which we are -to wed the <i>world</i>. So is it in life—we shed one tear over the past, -and hasten on to catch the future.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>In such a mood, the thoughts of all naturally reverted to the time -when first we entered upon that stage in the journey of life, which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span> -we have now completed. As we traced our progress onward, and -recalled our errors and our follies, our hopes and disappointments, -our attainments and our short-comings, the desire of sympathy, of -consolation, and encouragement, led to a full and free expression of -our thoughts and feelings. Apple, however, as his cigar wreathed -forth its exhalations,</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>‘Upward and downward, thwarting and convolved,’</p> -</div> - -<p>and puns and quips unceasing shot through their obscurity, like -lightning through a cloud, seemed at first to be in no mood for the -pathetic, or the serious. Pulito, too, after a brief and apparently -regretful abstraction, broke forth in a strain half querulous, half -laughing.</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Well, ‘gentlemen commoners,’ however discourteous -the remark may appear to you and your society, I must ne’ertheless -regret that I am not this evening where I might have been, -in a certain far-famed street, and gazing upon a certain lovely face, -whose owner’s name ’twould be profanity to mention. I may say -with the stricken Cowper,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Farewell to the <i>elm-tree</i>, farewell to the shade</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>Nescio</i>, (smiling.) “‘Lugete oh! Veneres Cupidinesque!’ As an -old dramatist has it,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Your soul, retired within her inmost chamber,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Like a fair mourner, sits in state with all</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The silent pomp of sorrow round about her.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Yes, and to borrow from the same play, The Rival -Ladies, I think,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Oh she is gone! methinks she should have left</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A track so bright, I might have followed her</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Like setting suns that vanish in a glory.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “For the sake of quoting beautifully, you quote without -application.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple</i>, (in a voice of thunder.) “Who in the name of heaven is -it about whom you are making all this ‘tempest in a tea-pot?’ Girls, -girls, girls, for ever and eternally! I wonder what you see in them! -weak and shallow! It maddens me, Pulito, to see you, a fellow of -some small sense, ‘bowing the knee in worship to an idol,’ a -minion-queen, a painted doll—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘A pagod thing of flirting sway,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With front of brass, and feet of clay.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span></p> -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Why, Apple, from your fierceness, I suspect you have -lately met with a rebuff from some fair damsel.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “No, indeed I have not; I was afraid I should though, -and did not give her a chance. I was acquainted with some of them -once, and endeavored to patronize, instruct, and even please them. -But they had neither the acuteness to perceive the point of my -puns, nor the complaisance to laugh at them, even when I led the -way. In fact—the fiends scorch their pictures!—I believe they -laughed <i>at</i> instead of <i>with</i> me. ‘Flattery is nectar and ambrosia to -them.’ They drink it in and enjoy it like an old woman sucking -metheglin through a quill.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “I allow that</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">——‘if ladies be but young and fair,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">They have the gift to know it.’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>But this is chargeable upon us, who are accustomed to lie to them -about their charms, as a matter of course.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Then, too, if beautiful, they can scarce be good. For, -‘honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.’”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “How! Is what is fair at surface necessarily foul at -heart?</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Why what a world is this, where what is comely,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Envenoms him that bears it.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “And how wide is their information, scientific, literary, -political, moral! Their wits ‘are dry as a remainder biscuit after a -voyage.’”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Well, Apple, I should think you had exhausted Shakspeare -and yourself for terms of reproach: yet it still remains true, -that they are the dearest, sweetest things ‘<i>in rerum naturâ</i>,’ and</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Should fate command me to the farthest verge</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of the green earth,’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>I shall still love them one and all.”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “Yes.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Dulcé ridentem Lalagen amabo</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Dulcé loquentem.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “I am no ladies’ man. I am too grave for their society. -Yet I am willing to acknowledge that, together with their influence, -they are half that makes life valuable. They are the purifying and -refining ingredient in the seething caldron of society. Their perceptions -are more rapid and acute than ours, and if deceitful, it is -from <i>necessity</i>, which you know is the mother of <i>invention</i>.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “For my part, the absence of those pretty faces, which -I have been wont to see in my ‘walk and conversation,’ will greatly -deepen my regret at leaving this delightful place.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span></p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Pooh! couldn’t you sentimentalize a bit? ‘<i>Pone me -pigris ubi nulla campis, Arbor æstivâ recreatur aurâ</i>,’ &c. Turn -me adrift in New England, New Guinea, or New Zealand, and -let me have good meats, good drinks, good <i>kapniphorous</i> cigars and -a dozen comedies, and I don’t care a rush.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Oh! what an <i>animal</i>! Why, Dumpling, do you suppose -you have a <i>soul</i>, or are you a mere lump of flesh, a ‘congregation -of skin, bone and spissitude,’ to use one of your own ridiculous -phrases?”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Yes, Pully, I suspect I have such a thing as a soul -somewhere—but I cannot determine its <i>locale</i>—neither do I fash -my beard thereanent, since it is the only <i>immaterial</i> thing about me, -ha! ha!”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “That’s Apple, through and through, to circumvent -truth by a quibble.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “But have you no sympathy with this verdant city and -its lovely scenes? Why, this very evening,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘When the sweet wind doth gently kiss the trees.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And they do make no noise,’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>is a copy of Paradise.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Yes! the ‘Paradise of fools.’”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“‘On such a night</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Stood Dido, with a willow in her hand,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To come again to Carthage.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>Apple.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“‘On such a night did young Pulito strive</div> - <div class="verse indent0">T’ unseal the fount of feeling in his heart,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And be poetic—<i>but he could not do it</i>.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “The air is like the breath of birds.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Such birds as caged pullets and mousing owls, probably, -ha! ha!”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “And then the cemetery, and these streets high-overarched -with their verdant walls of inwoven shade.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Poetical, i’faith! <i>My</i> only amusement in the <i>burying-ground</i>, -as an unsophisticated gentleman like myself would call it, -is to read the queer old epitaphs.”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “And mark how not even the ear of Death is secure -from the poison of flattery.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Pretty fair! I approve of that remark. As for these -streets, strip them of their green guardians, and they would be dry -enough to choke the wave-washed throat of Neptune himself. How<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span> -can fellows walk over all creation for fine prospects—my best prospect, -as a kindred spirit once said, is the prospect of a good dinner.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Surely, the view from East Rock is delightful.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Undoubtedly, if there be two or three mountain nymphs -hanging affectionately on your arm. Oh! triple horror! To toil -through two long miles of dusty barrenness, and crawl <i>a la quadrupede</i> -up a mountain of shifting sand and triturated stones, to view a -few houses included between shoal water and furze hills.”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “Methinks only a few weeks since, <i>you</i> escorted thither -some twelve or thirteen of these same mountain nymphs.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “To be sure I did, and therefore I can speak from experience. -But it argues an unkind disposition in you, to fling a man’s -errors and misfortunes in his teeth. I did perpetrate that act, and -as I hope forgiveness, I am contrite therefor. We set off one morning, -when it was so hot that the very clouds <i>smoked</i>, though <i>I</i> could -not—for what would Jonathan Oldbuck’s ‘<i>woman-kind</i>’ say? ‘The -ladies be upon thee, Sampson,’ thought I. I could not laugh, though -there was enough that was ridiculous, for I had corns. So I went -sweating along under a load of milk-and-water refreshments, like a -man carrying his own gibbet. I climbed up the hill like another -Sisyphus, with a train of Sirens behind me. When there what saw -we. Why, through a cracked spy-glass, I saw <i>Nescio Quod</i> here, -my own chum, coming out the bookstore—wonderful, thrilling, soul-stirring -prospect! Then, lo! we had left the pine-apples a quarter -of a mile from the foot of the mountain, where we had stopped to -browse. Nothing would do—one lady was faint, and must have a -little pine-apple juice—another sweet nymph, in an unguarded moment, -said that her principal object in coming, was the pleasure of -eating the pine-apples—and another rosy-cheeked, and not very -sylph-like figure, remarked, that if Mr. Dumpling would be so good -as to go after the basket, he should have the pleasure of her arm -down the mountain. The devil of a pleasure, thought I; the sweet -creature must have ‘gane daft, clean daft,’ or she would never have -offered such an inducement—better for me ‘that a millstone were -hanged about my neck,’ &c.—but down I must come, and down I -came, and when I got down, I stayed down. I ate the pine-apples -myself, and laid down under the shade till evening, when I slunk -home, leaving the ladies to their other beaux. I had some excuse -though, for, while ‘midway between heaven and earth,’ I stumbled -over a sweet-brier, and wrenched my ankle so excruciatingly, that -Pope’s line occurred to my mind with some solemnity—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>‘Die of a <i>rose</i> in aromatic (<i>a rheumatic</i>) pain.’</p> -</div> - -<p>You take, do you? I managed, however, to reset the <i>luxed</i> but by -no means <i>luxurious</i> joint, and grateful for my escape, I have forsworn -the ladies, and pray for grace to keep my vow.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span></p> - -<p>The laughter, long and loud, that succeeded the story of Apple’s -tribulations, was a sort of clearing-up shower, and left the moral atmosphere -in a temper more consonant with the seriousness of the -hour. After a short breathing-space, the conversation broke forth -anew, and in an entirely different channel. The sad peculiarity of -our situation gave to our views, and possibly to our remarks, a tinge -of bitterness and satire.</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Well, fellows, ‘our course is run, our errand done’ -within these walls, and we are to leave them for ever—and why not -bid farewell with a light heart and bounding hopes. To be sure, the -vexings of the world will be rather uncomfortable. A gentlemanly -air, and a languid intimacy with the ‘tricksy pomp’ of literature, will -not make a man a President or a <i>millionaire</i>.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “The prospect is somewhat discouraging. I should have -felt no misgivings at starting in the literary world a century ago, -when the noble art of punning was duly appreciated and rewarded, -as witness the celebrity of that great man, Dean Swift. Or I could -have been content to have ruffled it with the quibbling, conceit-loving -cavaliers, who basked in the smiles of Queen Bess. But -now the principles of taste are sadly perverted, and this noble art, -this sole distinctive mark of genius, has sought and found refuge -only beneath the classic shades of College. It is truly sad to me, -to think of leaving this last strong hold of wit and sentiment.”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “Why, Apple, your grief bewilders your mind. You -began with talking about <i>punning</i>, and ended with wit and sentiment. -Where is the connection?”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “At least as close, Mr. Quod, as between your real and -expressed opinion, when you speak so despitefully of this innocent -and dignified amusement. But now we are on the subject, what is -wit?”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “To which question I might reply, as Democritus did to -him that asked the definition of a man—‘<i>tis that which we all see -and know</i>.’ Such is the language of Barrow, the celebrated divine; -I read it this very day. I however would admit no definition, that -could possibly include a <i>pun</i>.”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “You go to an extreme there, Nescio. A mere play -upon words, a mere coincidence of sounds, makes but a poor jest, -and a ready facility in discovering and thrusting into conversation -these ‘imperfect sympathies,’ gives one but slight pretensions to the -reputation of a wit. But there are some witticisms, which depend -for their force upon a <i>pun</i>, but yet including also a racy humor, -deserve the praise of true wit. I will read you an instance from -Hazlitt:—“An idle fellow, who had only fourpence left in the -world, which had been put by to pay for the baking of some meat -for his dinner, went and laid it out to buy a new string for a guitar. -An old acquaintance, on hearing this story, repeated these lines out -of L’Allegro—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘And ever against <i>eating</i> cares</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Lap me in soft Lydian airs.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Here the point of the jest lies in the pun upon <i>eating</i>, yet who -does not acknowledge it as highly humorous. There are not many -puns so refined and pure as this, but they sink in infinite and imperceptible -gradations. You cannot draw a bold line between ‘the wit -of words and wit of things.’ ‘For,’ as is said of Wit and Madness, -‘thin partitions do their bounds divide.’”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Very true, and I detest that squeamishness, which -would refuse the praise of wit to any thing approaching to a pun, -and sympathize most heartily with poor Apple for his many rebuffs. -But nevertheless, Apple, ‘a joke’s prosperity lies in the ear of the -hearer,’ Shakspeare says, and one should not complain if his pet -witticisms are not received with applause and answered with laughter. -If the jest is worthless, he deserves ridicule—if it does contain -the essence of wit he has only himself to blame for giving it an -utterance, where it could not be appreciated. Think you that Addison -would have displayed his delicate humor for the amusement of -crabbed and adust bookworms, or Voltaire sported his sarcasms to -tickle the ear of clowns? Let their example encourage and instruct -you, my dear Apple, and if you cannot equal their fame, you -may, at least, attain the celebrity of Joe Miller.”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “You will allow, however, Pulito, there is too often -manifested a disposition to decry and disparage, when approbation -would have been more natural. Censure is too often heard from -lips, from which praise would have been more graceful, or silence -more becoming. There are too many among us, who seek to rise -upon the fall of their rivals—too many ‘frosty-spirited knaves,’ of -whom it may be said, in bitterest truth, ‘not to admire is all the art -they know.’”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “I have, however, been accustomed to regard such characters -with more of pity than severity. I have regarded them as -defrauded by nature of the just proportions of humanity. I have -been vexed by their perversity, but no more inclined to resent it, -than to chastise the ceaseless annoyances of a child or an idiot.”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “You underrate their <i>intellect</i>, that you may relieve -their <i>heart</i> from the imputation of baseness. True, he who is always -searching for faults, without paying any attention to beauties, -affords strong grounds for the conclusion, that he has no perception -of the latter, and in his own experience is conversant only with the -former: and he who is ever detecting plagiarisms, and starting resemblances, -gives reason for the suspicion, that his acquaintance -with the fountains of these stolen waters, is not so purely accidental, -or so honorably gotten, as he would have us imagine. But deficiency -of taste and weakness of mind are not the sole causes of -such conduct. The <i>prompter</i> of the whole is envy,—envy, the -meanest passion of the human heart—the only one in which there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span> -is not some shade of honor, some trace of nobility. Ambition may -be laudable—hate become a virtue from the loathsomeness of its object—covetousness -acquire dignity from the excellence of the thing -coveted—but the baseness of <i>envy</i> is enhanced by the purity and -splendor against which it is directed.”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “Not only is envy so mean a passion in itself, but it exerts -a most debasing influence upon the intellect and whole character. -Indeed, if we may believe Coleridge, the cherishing of it is -incompatible with the existence of genius. His language is solemn; -would that all the fosterers, or rather the <i>victims</i>, of this worst vice, -to which we are by our situation exposed, might listen to his warning. -‘Genius may co-exist with wildness, idleness, folly, even with -crime; but not long, believe me, with the indulgence of an envious -disposition. Envy is both the worst and justest divinity, as I once -saw it expressed somewhere in a page of Stobæus; it dwarfs and -withers its worshippers.’”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “To recall your attention, Tristo, to the subject from -which we passed so suddenly to a more serious one, what think you -of those who ‘wit-wanton it’ with things sacred, who at every breath -break over the bounds of modesty, and outrage our sympathies with -the true and the beautiful, for the sake of a momentary, and not unfrequently -a shame-faced laugh?”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “Such persons do themselves and others more injury -than they think. Their incessant insults to all refinement and delicacy -of feeling, if unresented and unguarded against, at length deaden -and efface these sentiments. Bulwer says well of such, ‘Their humor -debauches the whole moral system—they are like the Sardinian -herb—they make you laugh, it is true, but they <i>poison you in the -act</i>.’”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “It is disgraceful that impurity should be an unequivocal -characteristic of college wit. But it will be so, until some one shall -demonstrate by his own example that there is no necessary connection, -but rather an essential hostility between real humor and obscenity. -But so long as it is easier to swim with the current than to -buffet its dashings—so long as it is pleasanter to excite a hearty -laugh, than encounter a cold sneer—so long as indolence and vacillation -continue to be <i>descriptive marks</i> of a student’s character—we -need not hope for a change.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Whoever would attempt to effect one, should remember -the aphorism, ‘He ought to be well mounted who is for leaping -over the hedges of custom.’”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “If this license on the part of some deserves severe reprobation, -the chilling churlishness of those, who can feel no sympathy -with <i>pleasure</i>, be it ever so innocent—whose minds can admit -but the single idea of the <i>useful</i>, and reject as trifling the elegant -and refining—who, swallowed up in their admiration of moral beauty, -lose sight of or depreciate intellectual symmetry, (forgetting that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span> -moral excellence, though it resemble in its value the priceless diamond, -is not like it advantaged by a dull and roughened setting)—such, -I say, must not pass without their share of censure, for they -are in no slight degree the occasion, I will not say the cause, of the -opposite vice in others.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Such illiberality frustrates the praise-worthy exertions -of all who indulge in it. It places them out of the circle of influence—their -efforts can no more reach those whom they desire to affect, -than (to use a magniloquent simile) the perturbations of the -moons of Uranus can sway the Earth’s satellite in its orbit. But -beside the unfortunate reaction of such principles, is not this cutting -off, ‘at one fell swoop,’ all amusements, this tying down to one -staid rule of <i>formal observance</i>, youth of every variety of taste, talent -and temperament, and brought up under every complexion of -circumstances—this curbing of all tastes and inclinations, not within -the <i>lawgiver’s</i> capabilities—is it not based upon error of judgment, -and directed by something of inquisitorial arrogance?”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “I never listen to a specimen of such frosty philosophy, -without recalling an anecdote, much to the point. It is found, originally, -I believe, in one of Pope’s letters to Swift, though I read it -somewhere else. ‘A courtier saw a sage picking out the best dishes -at table. ‘How,’ said he, ‘are sages epicures?’ ‘Do you think, -Sir,’ said the wise man, reaching over the table to help himself, ‘do -you think, Sir, that God Almighty made all the good things of this -world for fools?’”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “The sage must have belonged to the sect <i>Deipnosophoi</i>, -or ‘Supper-wise,’ whom D’Israeli mentions. His principles, -however, will apply in their full extent, I think, to the purer pleasures -of taste and wit and literature.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Talk not to them of the ‘purer pleasures of taste, and -wit, and literature,’ for these are their utter abomination—snares for -the youthful mind—idle perversions of talent. Speak to them of -the grand display of moral power in Shakspeare’s dramas, and for -an unanswerable answer, they will point to a gross expression—and -consistently enough too, for theirs is the morality of <i>words</i>. They -cannot perceive that the <i>scope</i> of all his principal plays is purely -and symmetrically moral, or even religious—that they seldom violate -the modesty of nature, though they may overstep the prudishness -of an age when, ‘<i>La pudeur s’est enfuie des cœurs, et s’est refugiée -sur les lévres.</i>’—Modesty has fled from the heart, and taken -refuge on the lips. They cannot admire the <i>overruling providence</i>, -by which his untutored genius, apparently so wild and uncontrollable, -has been unerringly directed to conformity with truth and virtue. -In their esteem the pious Cowper would have been more -worthy, had he devoted his talents to the <i>practical</i> duties of ‘the -clerk of the Commons,’ rather than have <i>wasted</i> them in the unproductive -pursuits of poetry.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span></p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “Well, let them enjoy their opinions, provided they do -not meddle with others in the gratification of their taste, or profess -to judge in matters which they so virulently decry. The nightingale -may not quarrel with the discordant braying of the ass, till the -‘long-eared’ either attempt to ‘discourse sweet sounds’ himself, or -criticise the melody of others.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “‘Aye, there’s the rub!’ None are more prompt in criticising, -none more forward to condemn, than these same individuals.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “Nothing ruffles the placidity of my temper so much, -and so frequently, as the confidence with which some fellows, whose -ignorance is absolute, pass judgment upon works of literature and -taste. There are those, who cannot tell for their lives whether -Walter Scott wrote Waverly or the Commentaries, or whether the -author of Hudibras, the Reminiscences, and the Analogy, be not -one and the same, who yet issue their unblushing firman upon any -stray volume of poetry or romance, they may have chanced to pick -up and gape through. I heard one, who could not count beyond -ten, declare solemnly that he had no opinion of James, or Bulwer, -and that J. K. Paulding could write better than either. Another, -who had never seen a book, save the Family Bible, before he came -to College, averred that Sterne, Smollett, Fielding, and Richardson -united, never wrote any thing fit to be read by a man of good morals, -or sound sense; and thought, moreover, that <i>Campbell’s</i> Thanatopsis -was far inferior to <i>Bryant’s</i> Pleasures of Hope! And still -another affirmed that the plays of Shakspeare even, were ruinous to -the interests of morality, and that all the other dramatists of England -ought to be buried under the ruins of the stage they support. -Upon sifting the fellow, however, I found he had never read a play, -saving the Tempest, Comedy of Errors, and a couple of diluted operas -in the London stage!”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “And yet these are they, who sit in daily judgment upon -what they have neither the sense to comprehend, nor the delicacy -to appreciate. These are they, who stigmatize every thing beautiful -as a <i>rush</i>, and all that is novel to their narrow knowledge, as extravagant -and wild. ’Tis a Bœotian criticising the dialect of Athens; -a Scythian carping at the figures of Praxiteles. Shall the home-bred -rustic, who thinks the middle of the sky directly above his -head, and supposes that a walk of a day would bring his feet to the -‘blue concave,’ attempt to teach the life-long traveller the principles -of society, and decide upon the manners and customs and wonders -of the world? And yet it would be as reasonable to the full -as the conduct of him, who, when his knowledge is confined to <i>particulars</i>, -attempts to play the critic—a part, which, in its very nature, -implies <i>generalization</i> of the widest kind.”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “How can the poor catechumen, who has not yet donned -the robes of his novitiate, nor raised his eyes to the vestibule,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span> -much less stood in his sacrificial garments by the High Altar in the -Temple of the Muses, presume to decide upon the value and lustre -of the treasures its <i>adyta</i> conceal? It is as if the puny whipster, -who fumes and gesticulates upon the academic stage, and whose -thoughts and language are ‘a combination of disjointed things,’ -should attempt to span or analyze the harmonious vastness and -sweeping magnificence of an Edmund Burke.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “There is likewise a species of grave wiseacres—sober -fools, who are quite as senseless and less amusing than fools of the -more fantastic turn. They think that wisdom dwells only upon -sealed lips, and that strength of mind and sobriety of purpose, is <i>evidenced</i> -by nothing but a rueful face. These fellows (to use the -old Greek phrase) ‘lift the eyebrows’ with a dull forthshowing of -meditative wisdom, and a countenance</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent15">——‘of such a vinegar aspect</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Oh rather give me a whole-hearted fool, with his eternal grin, than -one of these sombre <i>unimpressible</i> concretions of torpedo-stricken -clay.”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “There are here, likewise, even as every where, many -who can stop at no medium, but carry reasonable freedom to unwarrantable -license. Because it is both pleasant and right to spend -some time in general, and above all, in female society, some therefore, -in their society fling away all their time, and, with their time, -fling away character, and knowledge, and happiness, and worth. -Because it is not well to be always bending over the learning of the -present, and listening to the eloquence of the past, some therefore, -double, wheel, march, and countermarch through these dusty -streets during the long hours of a summer’s day, and when they -catch a glimpse at the shadow of a female form, they experience a -momentary heaven. Others, remembering that it is irrational to crucify -the senses, and mortify the flesh, smoke, eat, and sleep, continually. -Others, hearing that as well profit as delight may be reaped -from the inspection of fancy’s fairy finger-work, are on the tiptoe of -panting expectation for each miserable novel that falls lifeless from -the press. And thus it was, thus it is, thus it will be.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “But idleness—idleness is the student’s bane. It is astounding -how we throw away our time, and our best time—our -spring-hour of life. Time is the medium of acquisition, and, losing -<i>that</i>, we lose all. I am no Utopian in theory, nor visionary in practice: -neither am I free from the follies I deplore. But the strides -which <i>might</i> be made in our collegiate course, would be mighty and -amazing.”</p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “I agree with you. Every ordinary mind, by more judicious -application, might accomplish double what it does. I do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span> -not mean that just twice as much would be read, or acquired; but -that the <i>mind</i> would be twice as far advanced. It would not only -have received twice the strength, and twice the beauty, from the -studies it had actually traversed, but would be doubly fitted to grasp, -conquer, and improve whatever might afterwards occur. The progress -of the mind is in geometrical ratio. Every new and liberal -idea, that is gained by a boy of twelve, is a capital which will return -with yearly and enormous interest. It is analogous to the gaining of -worldly wealth, where you must <i>hew</i> your slow and narrow path -from nothing to competence; but from competence to opulence, the -road is broad and easy.”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “I cannot divine the <i>modality</i> (as the schoolmen might -say) of some minds—the manner, in which they operate. For I -know of those, who for four years have toiled with desperate firmness, -and are what they were. They seem to have pursued a mill-horse -track, without the remotest conception that there was aught -else of value in the universe beside. Now I complain not of the -rigor or of the nature of our course. Stern application is our only -hope, and the course of authors we peruse, is perhaps as good as -could be devised; but it is the <i>spirit</i> with which they study. They -consider what they here gain, not as a <i>mean</i>, but as an <i>end</i>. Every -man, who would be ‘aut Cæsar, aut nullus,’ and whose eye goes -forward to the ‘immensum infinitumque’ of Tully, <i>must generalize</i>—<i>must</i> -view things <i>relatively</i>—<i>must</i> consider every thing, not as a -whole, but as a part. If one possess this generalizing spirit, I care -not how undivided be his attention to the college course; for I believe -that there is in the books of the first three years, beauty and -grandeur and weight, sufficient to justify, nay <i>demand</i>, almost <i>entire</i> -attention. For instance, to gain a perfect intimacy with Horace—not -an intimacy with his words merely, and sentiments—but an intimacy -with his beauties—with his <i>soul</i>—would require one month of -the severest study; and yet such an intimacy is requisite to justify -studying him at all: for if he is not to be appreciated—if that evaporating -something, wherein he differs so widely from a dull Latin -proser, is not to be seen and felt—you might as well have been reading -Cato upon gardening, or Vitruvius upon architecture. But -these fellows in studying a foreign tongue, give the general sense in -hap-hazard English, without gaining any insight into the philosophy -of mind, or the theory of language.”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “I think, moreover, that we ought to be more conversant -with the sciences. Some of the details may, perhaps, be superfluous; -but surely no one can claim to be a liberally-educated <i>gentleman</i>, -without a general acquaintance with all, and a perfect knowledge -of some of those departments. Whatever may have been my -former obliquities, or short-comings in these studies, I am determined -to retrieve them all. I have begun with attempting to square the -circle, upon which great problem I have employed two weeks.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span></p> - -<p><i>Nescio.</i> “Ha! Ha! do you approach the goal!”</p> - -<p><i>Apple.</i> “I cannot say that I do very rapidly; but I feel increased -acuteness of perception. I think I might discover this grand secret, -could I hit upon some method of reducing the circle to linear measurement. -My nearest approximation is to make a circle of a string, -and then quadrate its sides by the introvention of a square surface -of board. Of course, I have the perimeter and square contents of -the board, and if I could fit the latter accurately to the string, the -work is done, and I am Apple the Great. But ‘hic labor, hoc -opus est.’”</p> - -<p><i>Pulito.</i> “Ha! Ha! Be not wearied in well doing, Dumpling; -you have opened on the right scent, (<i>erige aures, atque dirige gressus</i>.)”</p> - -<p><i>Tristo.</i> “But there is a more serious view to be taken of this -matter, and one to which we must all open our eyes sooner or later, -and well will it be for us if we take counsel while the storm is yet -lowering, rather than look back with despairing, remorseful eye when -ruin is in the retrospect. The day will come when he, who has -squandered his abilities, and perverted his passions, will ‘begin to -be in want,’ when mortified pride and conscious inferiority will -‘bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder’—a day, when the -busy idleness, the trifling engagements, and the languid excuses, -which now lull all suspicion of an <i>actual waste</i> of time, will be forgotten, -and nothing but the results will be visible. Then, one hasty, -reverted glance, without any minute calculation, will inform us, that -by our thriftless expenditure, when we might have economized to -some purpose, we are <i>compelled</i> to be idle and insignificant; when -we <i>feel</i> idleness to be a <i>disgrace</i>, and insignificance a <i>torment</i>. And -why are not we alive to all this? Why do we not feel it, and <i>show</i> -that we feel it, by our actions, when we can thus in theorizing, ‘put -on the spectacles of age?’ The melancholy maxim of the ancients -explains it—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Quem Deus perdere vult, prius <i>dementat</i>.’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Who would have the punning epigram upon the Cardinal De Fleuri, -true of him?</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Floruit sine fructu,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Defloruit sine luctu.’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>There is a merry jingling in the sound, but under it is conveyed a -mournful meaning. Yet it shall be written of all, who, either trusting -to their native genius, or destitute of honorable ambition, flutter -away their existence in mimicry of the tiny circlets of the silly fly, -instead of pluming their wings and nerving their energies, for a bold, -a steady, and a deathless flight. Youth gives its stamp to life, and -life to immortality—time is a type of eternity. I have somewhere -seen the vastness of the latter illustrated by the image of a huge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span> -chronometer, of which the starry heavens were the dial-plate, its -pendulum swinging in cycles of ten thousand years, and ringing to -myriads of ages.”</p> - -<p>In such and similar discourse, did they consume the lagging hours -of night: now changing ‘from grave to gay, from lively to severe,’ -and glancing over all the subjects and circumstances in which a student -might feel a personal or an associated interest. They talked -of silly affection, and of scheming selfishness, and condemned alike -that vanity, which could exult in a new pair of gloves, or be elated -by that ‘<i>shadow of a thing</i>,’ yclept a reputation; and having in view -this one position, that what one <i>is</i>, and not what he <i>seems</i>, forms his -character and moulds his destiny,</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>‘Still they were wise whatever way they went.’</p> -</div> - -<p>And now, Reader, we have done. If from this rude, incongruous -heap, which, in the throwing together, has afforded us both -pleasure and profit, you have been able to extricate any thing of either, -we are satisfied. If by our unworthy portraiture of cheerful -mirth without the taint of vicious excitement, a single heart, sick of -the <i>hollowness</i> of dissipation, shall be seduced from its enticements—if -one mind, till now swallowed in the vortex of current opinion, and -dead to the merits of any save <i>fashionable</i> authors, should be led to -the study of chaster models, and the formation of a purer taste—if -one soul, whose fountains have been sealed to the thousand springs -of written or unwritten <i>poetry</i>, gushing up all around him, has been -opened to their influences—or if any individuals of the various classes -which we have ventured to describe, shall, by the image of their -deformity, be frighted, ‘if not into greater goodness, at least into -less badness’—<i>it is enough</i>.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="smcap">Ego.</span> -</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="WHAT_IS_BITTER">WHAT IS BITTER.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis <i>bitter</i> when beneath the midnight moon</div> - <div class="verse indent0">We wander near the graves of those we love;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The lone heart sinks, and sighs for the bless’d boon</div> - <div class="verse indent6">Of rest above.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">When wearied age, with retrospective view,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Sees in the record of departed years</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A tale of blighted hopes—he reads it through</div> - <div class="verse indent6">With <i>bitter</i> tears.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis <i>bitter</i> when our days are almost done,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To feel for wasted talents vain regret,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And see, with guilty fear, our life’s last sun</div> - <div class="verse indent6">In sorrow set.</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span></p> </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis <i>bitter</i> when revenge, with hellish art,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Lights in the breast her ever-scorching flame,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Stirs passion’s depths, and forms the tiger-heart,</div> - <div class="verse indent6">No power can tame.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">And <i>bitter</i> is the heart, nay more, undone,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That finds long-cherished hopes in ruin end,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Crushed by the cruel treachery of one,</div> - <div class="verse indent6">It deemed <i>a friend</i>.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent46"><span class="smcap">Eta.</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_REASON_OF_ANIMALS_NOT_THE_REASON_OF_MAN">THE REASON OF ANIMALS NOT THE REASON OF MAN.</h2> -</div> - -<p>The organic kingdom seems to be little else than a system of -means, resisting for a short period only the laws which govern inanimate -matter, and then yielding to their power. Wherever the contemplative -mind turns among the innumerable tribes of animals, -which have been revealed by the scrutiny of man, it beholds them -all struggling a little while for a sentient existence, and then sinking -down, to form a part of that mingled mass, which has given them, -and continues to give their successors, sustenance. It is not however -animated matter only which thus for a moment attracts, and -then passes from our observation. In each individual of all this -numberless multitude, we behold the glimmering of intelligence, and -in some species it seems to fall but little below the uncultivated reason -of man; nay more, in their architecture, in their fabrics, in their -modes of subsistence and defence, many are known to rival the utmost -stretch of human ingenuity. This intelligence also, and this -ingenuity, vanishes from before us. The theory has indeed been -formed, that this appearance of reason, wherever found, or however -feeble, is but the commencement of an immortal existence; but -it is not thus that the mass of mankind view the subject. They are -accustomed to look upon the whole animal kingdom as progressing -to a period, when, not only the sensations of their bodies will cease, -and their organs be left, without exception, to decay, but when all -their intelligence and skill also will be swallowed up in annihilation. -If then the reason of brutes is the reason of man, how strong, how -complete the analogy, and how natural the conclusion, that the -mind of man too, with the decease of his body ceases to exist! Living -therefore as the most intelligent of these animals do, in the midst -of us, and seeming to think and reason every day as really as ourselves, -reason itself seems to be constantly persuading us that our -end is the same. Indeed, if man differs from the brute only in the -degree of intellect which he possesses, it is almost demonstrably certain, -that annihilation or immortality alike await us. That animals -are immortal, however, it is impossible to believe; for if this may -be predicated of one individual, it may be predicated of every species<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span> -in which animal life can be proved to exist. From the highest -intelligence which exists among them, to the meanest insect that -crawls in the dust, or the dullest inhabitant of a shell that clings to a -rock, there is not a point where the line of separation can, with any -degree of plausibility, be drawn, and we might almost extend the -chain to the plant that shrinks from the touch, and the flower that -follows the sun. This theory therefore we reject as unnatural and -absurd. Hence we are reduced to the necessity of allowing, either -that man is not immortal, or that his reason is different, not only in -degree, but in its nature, from that of brutes. Although if the latter -be true, it does not follow that the former is false, yet one of the -most powerful arguments in support of it falls to the ground, and -leaves other evidence to produce a conviction of the truth of its opposite. -It is then an object of no little importance to discover, if -possible, whether there is sufficient difference between the faculties -of men and animals, to justify the conclusion that their destinies are -so different.</p> - -<p>In endeavoring to accomplish this object, we propose to consider -brutes, in the first place, as they exist in their natural state, and afterwards, -as they are when trained by man. Let us go, then, to the -forest where the bird sits upon her nest, and the beast rests in his -lair in undisturbed repose—or rather, if you please, where air, earth -and water, teem with countless multitudes, all alive with activity, -and all closely devoted to the peculiar employments for which Nature -has fitted them. Compare now this busy scene, with that -where the same elements groan under the burden imposed upon -them by man, in his highest state of cultivation. Mark the aerial -artist as she proceeds in the construction of her edifice, which in its -execution and adaptation to its situation, defies all imitation by man. -Without a model, and without instruction or experience, she fabricates -a nest, which, in materials and construction, as near as circumstances -permit, resembles those of all her predecessors. Where -there is no possibility of a communication, precisely the same process -is followed, and the same result is produced in every instance. -Neither does age, observation or experience, produce the least improvement, -but it more frequently happens, that the first product of -this instinctive skill excels all that succeed. The same appears to -be true of every species of the brute creation as we find them in the -wilds of nature. All come into existence endowed with a species -of intellect; a practical ingenuity, apparently far superior to any -thing which man possesses, previous to observation.</p> - -<p>If, therefore, the mental endowments of brutes are to be estimated -by the readiness with which they arrive at certain practical results, -man sinks below them. Among the whole human race, we find not -a single instance of such instinctive knowledge. Man springs into -existence of all animals the most helpless, and the most ignorant of -the means of his support or his happiness. He is compelled to -learn and direct every step of his course by observation and experience.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span> -He is left to deliberate and choose without any previous bias -of the mind, and hence arises that vast diversity of manners and customs, -scarcely greater between the most civilized and the most barbarous -people, than between those who are buried in an equal -depth of barbarism. On the other hand, throughout each particular -species of the brute creation, all appear to be guided by one mind, -and urged on by some irresistible power to the same definite ends. -In the state in which we are now considering them, there is no variation -in their habitudes, and seems to be no possibility of their -choosing a different course from that so universally pursued. It is -as natural to them as to live; as involuntary as their breath. This -is instinct—a faculty to man denied—a pilot whose absence leaves -him to the winds and waves of circumstances, while its presence impels -as well as guides the animal creation in all their intricate manœvres.</p> - -<p>There are traits, however, in which man and the most intelligent -of other animals closely resemble each other. Present, for instance, -a pleasing object to the eye of man, and the countenance will involuntarily -kindle into a smile. Present to the half-famished wanderer -an article of food, and the flowing saliva and the beseeching look, -will testify, in spite of him, his eagerness to receive it. Tear from -the fond mother her darling offspring, and plunge into its unprotected -breast the glittering steel, and an agony unutterable will give her -wings to fly to its rescue, and a thousand tongues to call for aid, or -drive her to madness with despair.</p> - -<p>This is a species of action, exhibited to an actual extent, perhaps, -though in different ways, by both animals and men. It evinces a -power which it is not in the nature of man wholly to resist, and under -the full operation of which we use neither deliberation nor judgment. -Such seems to be the power which gives rise to a large part -of the actions of the most intelligent animals. It differs little in its -nature from that instinct which guides them in their mechanical labors, -and, in connection with it, is sufficient to account for all the phenomena -which, as sentient beings, in their natural state, they exhibit -to us. It is the influence of the passions—the feelings—the heart. -In brutes, apart from instinct, (if this be not considered instinct,) it -holds universal sway. The objects which excite the passions, and -give rise to action, may not, indeed, in all cases be present. They -may be called up by circumstances in all the vividness of reality, -through the powerful memory with which brutes are endowed, yet -the motives of the action are the same as if the real object supplied -the place of the imaginary one. The principle is the same, and the -result is still produced by the influence of the animal feelings, excited -by sensible objects. But in man there is displayed a moving -power which exists independently of instinct, of love, or hate, or -hope, or fear, and which is capable of exercising a control over all, -unless it be the very strongest of human passions. In the exercise of -it, the passions are, as it were for the moment annihilated, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> -intellect rises into a sphere where all tangible, sensible objects, vanish, -and the mind converses with objects beyond the reach of mere -animal perception.</p> - -<p>The question may now arise, how are we to account for all that -variety of movement and action, which animals acquire under the -instruction of man? If instinct and passion are the only influences -to which they are subject, we should reasonably suppose that their -actions would be as invariable as the motives from which they originate. -Had they never been subject to a higher order of beings, -this would be found universally true. But that class of animals -which we denominate domestic, and indeed almost all upon which -the hand of man has laid its controlling influence, exhibit a species -of action, which indicates a capability of improvement, and for which -it would be impossible to account upon the principles which have -been considered. There is another principle which is seen alike in -animals and man, and might with propriety be denominated an artificial -instinct. It is habit—a state in which we are led to act with -reference to definite ends, and yet act involuntarily. By a frequent -repetition of some motion of the hand, the foot or the whole person, -we come at last to do the same unconsciously, and it is by this means -that we perform so readily many of the intricate processes which -the arts require. It is this which explains the secret of attachment -to places and things. Even the prisoner, after a long-continued -confinement to a gloomy cell, finds, at his departure, a magic -charm binding him to the dreary habitation. The tender threads of -affection have become entwined around the objects so constantly before -him, and he is obliged to summon his reason, to break through -the silvery web that is formed around his heart. Observation teaches -us that animals are subject to the same influence. After a period -of confinement and familiarity with man, the door of their enclosure -may be opened, and almost without exception, they will leave it, -only to return again of their own accord—not because a judgment -teaches them that such a condition is preferable, but because a new -influence is thrown over them which they cannot shake off. It is -obviously upon this principle that they perform all the manœvres, -and answer all the purposes, which they are made to do by man.</p> - -<p>These three causes—instinct, passion, and habit, are believed to -be sufficient to account for all the varieties of action exhibited by -animals. We no where discover any of that power of origination, -that freedom of thought and action, which renders man capable of -endless improvement, and worthy of presiding over the brute creation. -Nor any where do we find that power of abstraction, by -which, from evidences of design which are displayed among terrestrial -and celestial objects, we are able to reason our way up to an -Infinite Being whom we have neither seen nor heard. These are -the characteristics of man, which render him an accountable being—give -him a conscience, and stamp him with the impress of immortality.</p> - -<p class="right"> -S. -</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="DE_LOPEZ_THE_BRAVE">DE LOPEZ THE BRAVE.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="center">“The age of chivalry is gone.”—<i>Burke.</i></p> -</div> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">In days of yore, when minstrel song</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Ne’er swell’d ‘to please a peasant’s ear,’</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But ladye fair, and knightly throng,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Were pleas’d his gentle harp to hear;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">There liv’d in Spain, a knight of fame—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His deeds as gallant as his name—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">De Lopez—stainless arms he wore,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Those arms his peerless fathers bore;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And many a goodly rood of land,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And castle fair were in his hand;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And many a serf ‘with buckled brand,’</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Rode to the fight at his command.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A braver knight ne’er strode a steed,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Or couch’d a lance in rest;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A stalwart knight was he at need,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His war-spear was no coward’s reed;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">In mercy he was best.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But he was now to bid adieu</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To scenes he lov’d full well;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He had vow’d, as loyal lord and true,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To follow his king the crusade through,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To lands o’er which the simoom blew,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Till the Moslem crescent fell.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Now, in the castle hall he stood,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">His ladye on his arm—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He waited there, before he rode,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Trusting his lovely bride with God,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To shield her from alarm.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">“Now bless thee, dearest,” cried the knight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">“God keep thee safe and true;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">My life, my love, ah, cruel right!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That blasts our day of love so bright</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And o’er it spreads the sable night,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A night of deadly hue.”</div> - <div class="verse indent0">So spake De Lopez, gallant knight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">On parting at the castle gate,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He in his glittering arms bedight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">She mourning o’er her hapless fate.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And then she plac’d a bright red rose</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Among his waving plumes;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ah, hapless bride! she little knows</div> - <div class="verse indent2">What fearful fate it dooms.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">No more the charger paws the ground,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Nor snuffs the fresh’ning air,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">No more the faithful vassals round,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Impatient for the bugle sound,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Await—their lord is there.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He gave his pennon to the gale,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">His bugle echo’d far,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O’er distant forest, plain and dale,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The fearful notes of war.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Then spurr’d their furious steeds amain,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And soon they cross the lengthen’d plain.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But, lo! from yonder lofty tower,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The ladye keeps her lonely watch,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And there has spent a long, long hour,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Spying her lord thro’ plain and bower,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Wherever she a sight can catch.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And now, in the blue distance far,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The pennon fades away;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Or, like some ling’ring, morning star,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That shines with doubtful ray,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis now in view, now lost to sight,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">As slowly wanes the yielding night.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Their gleaming helms and waving crests,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Their spear-heads tipp’d with silv’ry light,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Their flashing shields and steel-clad breasts,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That sparkle with a sheen so bright,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Grow faint and fainter to the sight.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Why course the drops down Mena’s cheek?</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Why leaves she now the lonely height,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The ladye of the heart so meek,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The ladye of such gentle might?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">She sees no more her own brave knight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">She hears no more his bugle-wail;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The dark’ning shadows of the night,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Shrouding the forest, plain and dale,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Conceal him from her sight.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span> - <div class="verse indent0">And now she hastens to her bower,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And now the chief pricks on his way;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Behold, around him march the power,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of vassal bold in long array;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For they are bound to Palestine,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With shield, and spear, and sword,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Their blessed Saviour’s tomb to win</div> - <div class="verse indent2">From ruthless Moslem horde.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Among the suitors of the land,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That sought fair Mena’s lily hand,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">There was a dark-brown baron bold,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That dwelt secure in massive hold;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Men seldom cross’d his stone threshhold,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For many a tale, the country round,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Their feet and tongues in terror bound.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">’Twas said he practic’d gramarye,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And that in wild, tempestuous nights,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The lurid lightning one might see,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Flashing around his castle heights;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">While the deep-mouth’d bellowing thunder,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Shaking the massive keep,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Would seem its rocky walls to sunder,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Then straightway forth would leap</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A dazzling, quiv’ring, noiseless flame,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And the black pall of night again</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Enshroud the heaven’s starless steep.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">This baron hath sworn a fearful oath,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">‘By heav’n and all its saints,’</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That be the ladye never so loth,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Despite of love’s restraints,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">She yet shall deck his bed and board,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And gladly own him her liege lord.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Now, Holy Mother, shield her well,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">From all the fiendish plots of hell.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For, well I ween, this baron bold,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His mightiest spells will not withhold.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent6">What gleaming light,</div> - <div class="verse indent8">Shoots forth its beams,</div> - <div class="verse indent6">Through the deep night?</div> - <div class="verse indent8">Say, what this means?</div> - <div class="verse indent10">All else is still</div> - <div class="verse indent10">On the castle hill,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Save the warder’s cry, and the deep clock’s chime,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That warns the pale ghost of his passing time.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That ray from the baron’s window gleams,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And, as far down on the lake it streams,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Three spirits cross its path.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">(God shield us from their wrath!)</div> - <div class="verse indent0">By blackest art they’ve laid to sleep</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The warder ’neath the deep black lake,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">There too they’ve made the ban-dog keep</div> - <div class="verse indent2">His lone watch, lest the warder wake;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The smould’ring brands of the watch-fire bright,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">They plunge ’neath the wave, as well they might.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For such foul arts of gramarye,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">No mortal eye may ever see.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis not for such as me to tell,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">What did they in the baron’s cell.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis said that voices loudly groan’d</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Around the turret’s height;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And e’en the graves in churchyard moan’d,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With many a restless sprite;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That then in cloud of flame and smoke,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">These spirits their departure took.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Why swims pale Mena’s heavy eye?</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Why walks she with a falt’ring step?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Why heaves she now the sudden sigh?</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Has not her gallant lover kept</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His knightly word? or, can it be</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That he has fall’n beyond the sea?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">She had last night a fearful dream,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">‘A spirit woke her,’ (it did seem,)</div> - <div class="verse indent0">‘And with a finger gory red,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Pointed her to a bleeding head;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Upon a city’s gate ’twas plac’d,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With dust and clotted gore defac’d;’</div> - <div class="verse indent0">She shriek’d not—but her heart’s hot blood</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Mounted in gushes to her brain,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">This cannot be—oh, gracious God!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Is this her luckless lover slain?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But the foul spirit by his power,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Sustain’d her through her trying hour.</div> - <div class="verse indent6">Yet once again</div> - <div class="verse indent6">The vision came.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">‘She sees a gallant knight,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And a ladye fair flit by;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">They move like forms of light,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">And stately onward hie;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span> - <div class="verse indent0">The knight—he was the baron bold!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Herself the ladye fair!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The hour of one the clock now told,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The spirits melt in air.’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Now round the altar high they stand,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In sooth, a gallant, goodly band;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">On high the torches flash and wave,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Showing pillar and architrave,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And arch and gothic window fair,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And, hanging high in the cold night air,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Pennon and ’scutcheon that glisten’d there.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But who are these, at dead of night,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That would perform this holy rite?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Who, I pray, but the baron bold,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And the fair Mena, deck’d in gold?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For missals foully forg’d have said,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">(Rest him!) her gallant knight is dead!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And then, her father’s stern command,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And many a ghostly spirit band,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Have sent her mad;—she cannot know</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The full extent of all her woe.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">The priest in robes of stainless white,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Does now beside the altar stand,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And now beneath the dazzling light,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The baron takes the ladye’s hand.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Jesu Maria! what muffled form,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Breaks through the crowd like a mighty storm?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His helm is gone, but a lifeless rose</div> - <div class="verse indent0">On his steel-clad bosom finds repose.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis wither’d and faded quite away,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Still lies it there; as, in former day,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">It shone a terror to his foes.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The baron breathes convulsively,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">He knows the stranger knight</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That aims at him so manfully;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Oh, shield the luckless wight!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Now flash their falchions in mid air,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">May “God defend the right!”</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh, who had seen that man would swear</div> - <div class="verse indent2">His was no mortal might.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But, ah! he’s down—it cannot be:</div> - <div class="verse indent2">His mighty soul for aye has sped!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Draw near—oh, horrid sight to see</div> - <div class="verse indent2">De Lopez number’d with the dead!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With idiot eye and childish stare,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Poor Mena bends before him there,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His bloody, wasted hand she takes;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The flower her sad remembrance wakes.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Her brain is fir’d; in vain she tries</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To shed a tear!—so soon, alas!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The secret springs of feeling fail,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When wrongs the anguish’d heart assail,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And burning sorrows o’er it pass.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">With mournful step and fun’ral wail,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">They bear the baron bold;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">No more he’ll need his war-proof mail,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">No more his massive hold.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">De Lopez did not fall in vain,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For, as he fell, with might and main,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">While yet in death he fainter grew,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He thrust the bloody baron through.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">They lay the baron by a running stream,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Nor moon nor stars e’er shine upon the spot;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But, it is said, a bluish, noiseless gleam</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Surrounds him; such, the dreaded wizard’s lot.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">A monument of marble pale,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Marks where De Lopez fell;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For him arose no kindred wail,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">He lies secure from fiendish spell.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And they have carv’d a gallant knight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Stretch’d on that tomb so pale,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Still in his stainless arms bedight,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Still clad in marble mail.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">’Tis said, when the moon, with palish ray,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Shines on the spot where the brave knight lay,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A saint-like spirit you may see,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With marriage robe, and bended knee,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Kneel o’er his lowly sepulchre.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Awhile she’ll kiss the marble face,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And shed a lonely tear,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Then look to heav’n—to ask the grace</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That was denied him here.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right">R.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="MR_WILLIS">MR. WILLIS.</h2> -</div> - -<p>When so many mouths are full of Mr. Willis, and pamphlets and -periodicals are alternately lauding and lashing him—and, moreover, -since he has so lately passed through this city, (the city of his Alma -Mater,) and with him, his very lovely trans-Atlantic lady—it is certainly -proper that this magazine (the deputed organ of Yale’s literary -notions) break its dignified silence. Criticism, it is true, of -right belongs to older heads—but since such numbers have apparently -forgotten this in the community at large, we shield our presumption -under their greater impertinence. Impertinence! That -the thousand and one notions put forth here and there to the detriment -of Willis, are impertinent, lies on the face of them. What -right have they to find fault with his coat, or the fit of his breeches? -“Ah! but he don’t pay for them!” Prove that, rascal—perhaps -your prejudice then will be less apparent. But stop a moment.</p> - -<p>Of course—we are not seated to make out an analysis of Willis’ -mind—nor to criticise thoroughly his poetry—nor to meddle particularly -with his morals—nor to read him furiously a Chesterfieldian -lecture—nor to tell him whether he shall or shall not curl his hair—whether -he shall or shall not have his carriage, his horses, his dogs, -<i>et cetera, et cetera</i>. No! nothing of this, save incidentally—we -leave this to others. Besides, ’tis too late for it—they have been -treated on, and his new work has not yet come to us. But our purpose -is, to scribble a rapid, running, off-hand article—to trouble, -somewhat, some of the defamers of Willis—to give our own opinions -as may be about this or that—to say just what we have a mind -to—to say it how we have a mind to—and (of this, reader, be certain) -to enjoy our own opinions.</p> - -<p>Whether we are capable of this, of advancing an opinion—of that, -reader, you must judge. Thus much we <i>dare</i> say—our prejudices -will not trouble our judgment. We have alike objected to the indiscriminate -laudatory efforts of the friends of Willis, and the pitiable -swellings and puny malice of his enemies—we have made ourselves -alike familiar with his prose and with his poetry—(what man of taste -has not?)—we have never shut our eyes on his faults, or suffered a -jaundiced vision to distort, discolor, or otherwise interfere with his excellencies—we -have often censured and praised him—fought for -him and against him—in short, been placed exactly in those circumstances, -which are favorable to a proper appreciation of his -merits—supposing all this time, that we possess a moderately good -share of judgment in these matters. Thus much we dare say.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span></p> - -<p>The most troublesome things to be met with now-a-days, are -your <i>echoing</i> gentlemen.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Mr. Willis has done thus and so, says -one—Mr. Willis has written thus and so, says another. Now we -don’t say Mr. Willis has <i>not</i> done or written thus and so—perhaps -he has—nor would we be understood exactly in this free government, -as interdicting the expression of opinions, even supposing -these young gentlemen harmless, and as entirely innocent of a capability -to judge as they really are—but we do say that, in this hot -weather, and especially as dog days are coming on, every buzzing, -barking, or otherwise troublesome creature, should be heard as little -as possible, and that it is altogether too much of a tax upon the -easiness of modest men, and too much of a tax on the patience of -sensible ones, when with all their exertions and cooling appliances, -(such as ventilating, dressing thin, and going under the College -pump,) they can scarcely keep themselves comfortable. He’s a -puppy, says one. What do you mean by “puppy,” say we. Why, -he’s an exquisite—a dandy. Now, hang your ignorance! for your -charge proves you a clown. <i>We</i> have seen Mr. Willis (we have no -acquaintance with him) sitting and standing—we have seen him in -company and out of company—we have seen him hat on and hat -off—we have seen him walking and talking—and <i>we</i> declare, that -there’s nothing about him but an air of high society, and a well bred -gentleman. The charge of being a dandy, might be laid any where -with equal propriety—the urbanity of his deportment, considering -his publicity, is worthy of high praise.</p> - -<p>His publicity, his English reputation—this is another thing his -enemies turn against him. Witness the slighting method of the -Quarterly—witness the cool handling of the Edinburgh—witness -his annihilation in the Metropolitan, say they. Annihilation! murder—what -a term is this—here’s a tax—here’s a sweep—here’s a -pull on our credulousness. Have these gentlemen forgotten the -admitted principle in physics, that you cannot annihilate matter? -But—’tis of a piece with the rest of their absurdities.</p> - -<p>As for the attacks of those great organs of English sentiment, the -Edinburgh and Quarterly, it only needs a glance at the <i>acknowledged</i> -reason of those attacks, to show it altogether complimentary -to the <i>talents</i> of Willis. His stories publishing successively in the -London New Monthly—he was bowed through England with an assiduity -and politeness well worthy the English nation, and of which -any American might be proud. The first ranks welcomed him to -their circles—their first literary men were pleased with his acquaintance, -(aye! the very men who afterwards smote at him)—and the -first critic of England, or of the world even (North, we mean,) has -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span> -estimated his power, and written him—no common genius. This were -praise enough, in all conscience. The indiscretions of Willis—and -such he has, and we blame him—these it was called forth those -harrowing, ripping, raking articles, so eagerly cited against him now; -and with these <i>facts</i> before us—shall we take <i>their</i> estimate of his -intellect, and North on our side into the bargain? Out on him who -does it! But the first men of the age have been placed precisely -as Willis has—some of the Reviews one side, some on the other. -Byron was thus placed. To the last day of his life he was horridly -mauled by some of them, whenever that great lion turned flank and -exposed himself to the enemy. He has been called ridiculous, affected, -a narrow though great mind, and a plagiarist, by one of -their first Reviews; and others of their great men have run the gauntlet, -and after the same fashion. There’s nothing new in it—what, -then, is the worth of the argument?</p> - -<p>Of the article in the Metropolitan, nothing need be said—’twas -personal <i>pique</i>, as every one knows. The fact that a single sentence -of Willis’ condemnatory of Marryatt called forth that article, is -a high proof of the estimation in which he was held, and speaking in -no ordinary tone. Policy should have kept Mr. Willis from saying -it—this no one doubts, whether it was true or not. If true, however, -he deserves less censure; and now we call upon every admirer -of Capt. Marryatt, and demand if it is not true, that there are passages -in most of his novels we read with disgust—that we would not -read in good society, or before a sister—and if he has not come into -a dangerous proximity with that point, where he deserves all that -Willis says of him? <i>We</i> assert that he has—let Capt. Marryatt’s -admirers disprove it. And the Willis and Marryatt correspondence -too! little need be said here, than that those letters went to show -Marryatt a bullying blackguard, and Willis <i>the</i> gentleman. These -things we assert—and yet professing ourselves admirers of Marryatt. -He is doubtless one of the geniuses of the age. But we will not let -our admiration distort facts, when such distortion is injurious to one -of our countrymen.</p> - -<p>These echoing gentlemen talk much of Mr. Willis’ ephemeral -reputation—of his fame’s dying with him. Lo, and behold these -Solomons in literature—witness these wise men of Gotham,—these -“Daniels’ come to judgment!” Have these gentlemen to learn, -that men never tolerate each other’s weaknesses?—have they to -learn that Willis has been indiscreet?—have they to learn that -such numbers of young and old, high and low, rich and poor, as -have pitched upon him, have done so <i>for</i> this—and that it follows -necessarily, his genius is undervalued. Whether they have or not—men -of sense admit it all over the world. Men’s follies die with -them. We don’t bring hatred to the grave’s side—unless to throw -it in there and bury it. The smouldering earth we lay over them -hides their defects—we put their virtues in our hearts. So it is -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span> -with men whose follies tarnish their genius. Genius is in itself, a -living principle—you can’t annihilate it—you can’t lessen it—you -can’t depress it. You <i>may</i> undervalue it—you may rail at it—you -may affect to despise it. But it never was heard and it never will -be, that genius, however manifested, has not sooner or later regained -its splendid birth-right. So will it be with Willis—would we admit -what his enemies ask, that the community as a body are -against him. He has genius—a noble, lofty, and original one—(we -wish time permitted to show this by references)—his follies stand -betwixt the light and his merits—let him die, his follies die, and the -world at once acknowledges this merit. Such is the process—if we -admit, as just mentioned, that the community are against him.</p> - -<p>We have already transcribed our limits—we therefore, pause. -Before doing so, however, let us and the reader understand each -other. Let us not be ranked with the mad admirers of Willis—we -are none such—he has too many follies for that. But we cannot -forget, either, how very very brilliant are many very many of his -productions, and with what unmitigated pleasure we have always perused -them. And, if our humble voice might be heard so far, we -would counsel Mr. Willis that he no longer—if he has done so—discredit -the fine genius that God has given him—that he tax well, -and long, and arduously, that mind of his—that he by some noble -effort so engrave his name on this age, that the rust of after years -shall never eat it away.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> -By echoing gentlemen, we mean such as carry their chins high—walk with -canes—retail opinions pilfered from English papers, and call them their own.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="GREEK_ANTHOLOGY_No_VI">GREEK ANTHOLOGY.—No. VI.</h2> -</div> - -<p>Civilization, among all the changes it has effected in the character -and habits of its subjects, has wrought none more remarkable -than that in the condition of woman. In savage countries, the degraded -slave of continual oppression—in barbarian nations, the dormant -medium of sensual felicity—among the semi-civilized, the ignorant -and secluded object of idol affection—it was reserved for the -refinement of a purer age to reinstate her by the side, and in the -heart of man. No longer his passive minister to pleasure, she has -risen to share with him the rights and the enjoyments of rational -existence. From the object of occasional devotion and general -contempt, she has become, in the world where her claims are acknowledged, -a guide-star of benign and sanctifying influence.——Pish! -sentimentalizing, and on a subject trite as an almanac!——But -why not? In my last number, as well my own assertions, as -the <i>inconsecutive</i> form of my conceptions, might have been proof convincing -that the solstitial airs had pervaded mind and body with their -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span> -enervating breath. Since then, and while the sun was riding in his -more northern tropic, my energies fell before his potent presence -with a still lowlier prostration. Yet, as utter oppression will drive -even the weakest to resistance, so does trampled Nature rise rebellious -against the tyrant, and stand upright even before his summer-throne. -The cold airs of the morning send a vigorous life through -the limbs, which the toils of yesterday exhausted; and a <i>post-prandial</i> -siesta followed by a light repast “of meats and drinks, nature’s -refreshment sweet,” prepares the mind for an evening of quiet thought, -or rational enjoyment.</p> - -<p>This morning is of the loveliest. Each gentle flower turns her fair -face to the god of her idolatry, and, like a grateful bride, repays the -warmth of his caresses with the perfume of her breath. It would -seem as if the wing of relenting Time had dropt a freshening essence -on his vassals, as he passed, and atoned, in the face of Nature and the -hearts of her children, for the ravages of years. ’Tis not the sacred -awe, that falls like a shadow from the stars of midnight, and wakes in -the soul an unutterable yearning for a holier home—’tis not the sad -solemnity of evening, that fuses into one pervading thought the -hopes of the future, and the sorrows of the past, whilst our gaze -follows far into his nightly pavilion the golden footsteps of the retreating -Day—’tis the freshness, that dwells in the pinion of the -eagle, when he springs from his dew-cold aerie in the mountains, -and soars, with eye turned direct and unblenching on the morning -sun. But to return to the women. It is a lamentable fact—‘horresco -referens’—that the old heathen, and the Greeks among them, -did not prize very highly these interesting objects. It is true that -the exquisite delicacy of female beauty, excited in their breasts a -natural thrill of pleasure, and now and then a Sappho or an Aspasia -by the united power of wit and loveliness threw a spell of enchantment -around the wisest, and bravest, and proudest of their -time. But these were exceptions. There is many a smart bit of -satire, and many a dull growl of defiance at the sex, scattered -through the pages of the Anthology—and these I have hitherto -neglected to translate, well knowing that the ladies are not so perfect -as to bear sarcasm with patience, and that a portion of their -anger might be diverted from the Greeks to me. Whether their -being created second entitles them to be considered <i>second-best</i>, it -is not my province to decide. At any rate I see not how we could -<i>get along</i> without them, and I am perfectly willing to add my experience -to that of Mungo Park, and testify that, where they are -suffered to have their own way, I have found them uniformly generous -and obliging.</p> - -<h3><i>A Paraphrase from Palladas the Alexandrian.</i></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Woman, thou busy, meddling, curious thing,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">What endless evils from thy presence spring!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For thee, forth-sailing from the hills of Greece,</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span></p> - <div class="verse indent0">Bold Jason wandered for the Golden Fleece.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thou, and thy paramour, the beauteous boy,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Brought woe and ruin to the gates of Troy.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Achilles’ anger for a while delay’d</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Th’ event occasion’d by the faithless maid;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And then, when Ilion’s consecrated wall</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Had shook, and reel’d, and nodded to its fall,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Who but a woman, on the foaming brine</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Held wise Ulysses, and transformed to swine</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His brave companions, and employ’d each wile</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To chain the hero to her magic isle?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And is not woman’s love, or woman’s rage,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Ground of each plot upon the tragic stage?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Quick to perceive, and headlong to resent,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy kindled anger never can relent.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">So mild in love, so terrible in hate,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The soothing balm, and tri-thonged scourge of Fate;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thou sure wert born to trouble and perplex,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Involve and puzzle the diviner sex!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Have we a secret? Keep it, as we may,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Full soon it passes from our grasp away.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Has any thing occurred? “Who, which, what now?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">“Come, tell me quick, the why, when, where, and how!”</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Yet art thou lovely as the gentle light,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">That falleth dew-sprent from the orbs of night;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And, wert thou fled, this world of ours would be</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Dark as the Fates, and barren as the sea.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When wise, and kind, and generous, and mild,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thou rul’st us, as a mother rules her child.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But when thy passions take their headlong way,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">We scorn thine empire, and defy thy sway.—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Must, then, a pretty, peering, prying wife,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Soothe, vex, enliven, and distract my life?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">I’ll cling to thee for better, and for worse,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Our joy, our grief, our blessing, and our curse.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Let those who are not satisfied with this mixture of compliment -and sarcasm read the following, and see with what yearning anguish -a Greek could mourn over the grave of a loved one, who had passed -what was, to the ancients, with emphatic truth “the valley of the -shadow of death.” It is by Meleager, one of the most delicate and -affectingly simple of all the Greek poets.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">To thee, transported by that cruel Power,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Who waves his sceptre over all that live,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Tears wept in darkness at the midnight hour,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Oh! Heliodora! bitterly I give.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy home’s low roof with ceaseless tears I wet,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In deep, and wild, and passionate regret.</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span></p> </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh! Heliodora! I have known thee long,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And loved thee deeply, and bewailed thee well;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But what avails the tear, the sigh, the song,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To thee, thus sleeping in thy narrow cell?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Alas! my lovely flower is senseless clay!</div> - <div class="verse indent0">My budding rose the Grave has torn away!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">To thee, oh earth! then let thy mourning son,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">O’er whose glad heaven this cloud hath early past,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Whose day is darkened ere its morn be run,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Lift one appeal—his strongest, and his last—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Take her, oh! take her to thy gentle breast,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And lull her softly to her evening rest!</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<h3><i>To the Tettix.</i></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Thou noisy thing, intoxicate with dew,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thou desert-babbler, with thy rustic lay,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Who sittest idly, where the green leaves through</div> - <div class="verse indent2">On thy <i>cranked</i> limbs bright slants the solar ray,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Whilst from thy little frame with hue of fire,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Comes forth the mimic music of the lyre—</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh! friendly songster, to the Sylphid Maids</div> - <div class="verse indent2">‘Discourse sweet music,’ with thy tiny tongue,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And unto Pan, who habits in the shades,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And roves the mountains and the fields among.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Then, freed from love, my noontide sleep I’ll take,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Beneath the shadow which the plane-trees make.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>And now, dear reader, thou hast gathered with me a few of the -many wild-flowers, which bloom in the Anthology, but are known -only to the student, and appreciated only by the scholar. If thou -art not interested in them, it is either because thou art not gifted -with a love for the simple and the beautiful, or else because that -simplicity and beauty have perished in the medium through which -thou hast seen them. I am no man-worshipper, and, I hope, no -nation-worshipper. Yet I love, admire, and venerate the Greeks; -and though I might in liberality allow that there have been minds -more mighty than any of the Grecian race, yet it might be shown -by the strongest of moral proof—the sentiments of nations, and the -evidence of facts—that they were the brightest, simplest, and most -<i>classic</i> nation on the earth. I say, it might be shown, and should -occasion serve, I will show it. Meanwhile I will content myself -with the hope that you may be blessed with an <i>Attic reduplication</i> -of wit, a <i>temporal augment</i> in the riches and honors of this world, -and a <i>spiritual aspiration</i> after all that is beautiful in knowledge, -and all that is generous in deed.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="smcap">Hermeneutes.</span> -</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="OUR_MAGAZINE">“OUR MAGAZINE,”</h2> -</div> - -<p>Is doing very well—but might do better. It has hitherto had subscribers enough -to support it—it has never lacked communications—it has never been so unfortunate -as at one and the same time to displease <i>every body</i>—it has been constantly -sustained by the countenance of able friends, and the attacks of weak enemies—its -general character has been approved by the ‘leading prints’—many articles -have been copied from it, not without the most gratifying compliments—even the -editors have not lost their meed of praise.</p> - -<p>So much for the first part of our remark, that the Magazine is ‘doing well’—now -for the less pleasing adjunct, ‘that it might do better.’ We might have <i>more</i> -subscribers—and all our subscribers might pay as they engage to—our articles -might be more varied and more excellent—and by an increase of patronage, we -should be enabled to enlarge the size, and improve the mechanical appearance of -the work—and, in a word, make it more worthy of the institution from which it -takes its name, and which it is our especial delight to honor.</p> - -<p>All subscriptions were considered as made for one year, and will be so charged -by the Publishers. Subscribers at a distance are reminded that their <i>money</i> is due.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="TO_CORRESPONDENTS">TO CORRESPONDENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p>“On the study of human nature in the works of the imagination,” -and “Honors to the illustrious Dead,” two essays, are accepted, and -shall be inserted soon.</p> - -<p>“A curious incident” is under consideration.</p> - -<p>J. B.’s communication, resembles in its form and general character -the Coffee Club too much to appear with advantage after that -series.</p> - -<p>A patriotic poem, entitled “July 4, 1836,” was received too late -for insertion in the last number, when only it would have been appropriate.</p> - -<p>“Fair Wishes,” and “The Spirit of the Winds,” are declined.</p> - -<p>“Amor non convinciabitur,” (we are not responsible for the -Latin,) “Lines on a youthful Poet, laboring under disappointment,” -and “The sailor’s lamentation for his departed loved one,” are rejected.</p> - -<p>“Morning at the mast-head,” possesses considerable poetic merit, -but all the rules of metre are grossly violated.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span></p> - -<h2> -PROSPECTUS<br /> -<small>OF THE</small><br /> -YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE. -</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub"> -TO BE CONDUCTED BY THE STUDENTS OF YALE COLLEGE. -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>An <i>apology</i> for establishing a Literary Magazine, in an institution -like Yale College, can hardly be deemed requisite by an enlightened -public; yet a statement of the objects which are proposed -in this Periodical, may not be out of place.</p> - -<p>To foster a literary spirit, and to furnish a medium for its exercise; -to rescue from utter waste the many thoughts and musings of -a student’s leisure hours; and to afford some opportunity to train -ourselves for the strife and collision of mind which we must expect -in after life;—such, and similar motives have urged us to this undertaking.</p> - -<p>So long as we confine ourselves to these simple objects, and do -not forget the modesty becoming our years and station, we confidently -hope for the approbation and support of all who wish well -to this institution.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The work will be printed on fine paper and good type. Three -numbers to be issued every term, each containing about 40 pages, -8vo.</p> - -<p><i>Conditions</i>—$2,00 per annum, if paid in advance, or 75 cents -at the commencement of each term.</p> - -<p>Communications may be addressed through the Post Office, “To -the Editors of the Yale Literary Magazine.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This No. contains 3 sheets. Postage, under 100 miles, 4½ -cents; over 100 miles, 7½ cents.</p> - -<hr class="printed" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>Printed by B. L. Hamlen.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter transnote"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes"> -Transcriber’s Notes -</h2> - -<p>A number of typographical errors were corrected silently.</p> - -<p>Cover image is in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE (VOL. 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