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diff --git a/old/69201-0.txt b/old/69201-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 92884fa..0000000 --- a/old/69201-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9585 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Spiritual vampirism, by Charles -Wilkins Webber - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Spiritual vampirism - The history of Etherial Softdown, and her friends of the "New - Light" - -Author: Charles Wilkins Webber - -Release Date: October 21, 2022 [eBook #69201] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Les Galloway and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SPIRITUAL VAMPIRISM *** - - Transcriber’s Notes - -Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations -in hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and -punctuation remains unchanged. - -Italics are represented thus _italic_, bold thus bold. - - - - - YIEGER’S CABINET. - - SPIRITUAL VAMPIRISM: - - THE HISTORY - - OF - - ETHERIAL SOFTDOWN, - - AND - - Her Friends of the “New Light.” - - - BY C. W. WEBBER, - - AUTHOR OF - - “OLD HICKS THE GUIDE,” “CHARLES WINTERFIELD PAPERS,” - “THE HUNTER-NATURALIST,” “TALES OF THE SOUTHERN BORDER,” ETC. - - - A heavy, hell-like paleness loads her cheeks, - Unknown to a clear heaven. - JOHN MARSTON. - - O vulture-witch, hast never heard of mercy? - ENDYMION. - - - PHILADELPHIA: - LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO. - 1853. - - - - - Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by - LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO., - in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, - in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. - - STEREOTYPED BY J. FAGAN. T. K. AND P. G. COLLINS, PRINTERS. - - - - - INTRODUCTION. - - -On page 392 of the concluding sketch of a late series, the “Tales of -the Southern Border,” occurs the following passage:— - - - “THE ESCRITOIRE. - - “The author, being a resident of New York during the period of the - leading incidents narrated as occurring in that city, had formed the - acquaintance of the principal personage. Himself a Southerner, he - had, from the natural affinities of origin, inevitably been attracted - toward Carter. The intercourse between them, at first reserved, had - imperceptibly warmed into a degree of intimacy, which, however, had - by no means been such as to render him at all cognisant, beyond - the merest generalities, of the progress of his private affairs. - He was not a little surprised, therefore, at finding, one day, an - elegant escritoire or cabinet, of dark, rich wood, heavily banded in - the old-fashioned style with silver, which had been placed, in his - absence, on the table of his sanctum. A note, in a sealed envelope, - lay upon it. He instantly recognised the handwriting of the address as - that of Mr. Carter, and broke the seal. - - “It was evidently written in great haste, but without any sign of - trepidation. It ran thus:— - - “MY DEAR FRIEND: - - “I have no time for explanations, as I am in the midst of hurried - preparations for an unexpected yacht-voyage—upon which I set sail in a - few minutes. I send you an escritoire, which was left in my charge by - a highly valued friend. He was an extraordinary man; and its contents - will be, I doubt not, of great value to the world. - - “It was given me, with the injunction that it should not be opened - until six months after his death. The six months were up some weeks - since, but I have lately been too much otherwise absorbed to think of - making use of the privilege of the key. I now therefore transfer to - you this bequest in full, with the proviso that you will not open it - for six months. If at the end of that time I have not been heard from, - please open, and without reserve make what use of it your excellent - sense may justify. Please take charge of whatever correspondence may - arrive to my address for the same length of time, at the expiration of - which you will also please to consider yourself as my executor—open - my correspondence and proceed as you may think best. Pardon this - unceremonious intrusion of responsibilities upon an intimacy, the - terms of which I hardly feel would strictly justify me; but the plea - that I know no one else whom I can trust, and have no time for further - explanation, will I am sure justify me in the eyes of a brother - Southron. - - “Yours truly, - “FRANK CARTER. - - -“Six months having elapsed, and still no news of my singular friend -Carter, the fulfilment of the important duties of executor, thus -unexpectedly devolved upon him, were deferred by the narrator as long -as his sense of duty would possibly admit. At last, when longer delay -would have seemed to assume almost the aspect of criminality, the duty -of opening the cabinet was unwillingly entered upon.” - - * * * * * - -On my next meeting with my friend Carter, who proved still to be in the -land of the living, I spoke to him of the cabinet and its remarkable -contents, which had so unexpectedly been left in my charge; offering to -resign to him my trusteeship. To this, however, he would by no means -consent, but continued to insist, as in his original letter, that I -should without reserve make what use of it my sense of propriety might -dictate. I was finally overruled into undertaking the mere arrangement -and editorship of its contents—for the revelations there made are -in many respects so strangely horrifying and unusual, that I fear -the world will be little disposed to pardon my agency in giving them -publicity. However, as I believe them to be, in every respect, genuine -life-experiences, I have determined to make the venture, come what will -of it. We shall therefore give, as proper introduction to the singular -narrative which we have selected from beneath the blood-stained seals -of the cabinet it has been our fate to open, the following singular -paper, which we found lying separately above the folds of the MS. which -constitutes the History of Etherial Softdown. - - - THE PHILOSOPHY OF MESMERIC IMPOSITION. - - TO BE READ BY PHILOSOPHERS ONLY.[1] - -The existence of what may be called the nervous or Odic fluid—the -sympathetic element—has been partially known to all ages. The knowledge -of this powerful secret, in moving and controlling mankind, has been -professionally and almost exclusively confined to the adepts of all -sects, religions, and periods; though it has occasionally, in various -ways, leaked out of the penetralia, principally through its forms, -accompanied with little or no apprehension of their vital meaning. It -is in this way that a series of scientific phenomena, the discovery of -which probably originated with a remote priestcraft, and had been made -to subserve exclusive ends, has gradually been fragmented among the -people, and in many imperfect, ignorant, and vitiated forms has now -become the common property of science. - - [1] The Story begins at Chapter I.—ED. - -When it is understood that this nervous fluid is nothing more nor -less than that force—whether electrical, magnetic, odic, or otherwise -named—which, lubricating the nervous system in man, produces all vital -phenomena—is, in a word, the vital force—the active principle of -life—it will not be difficult to comprehend how important a knowledge -of its laws may be rendered to even those relations of life not -exclusively physical. - -Mesmer promulgated, under his own name, as a new and astounding -discovery in science, something of the sympathetic laws to which -this nervous or Odic fluid is subject, and by which the vital and -spiritual relations of man to the external universe are in a great -measure modified, and even controlled. This was no discovery of his, -but had been the mainly exclusive secret of the ancient priesthood; -employed alike in the ceremonies of the novitiate in the Thibetian -temples of Buddha, in the Egyptian Initiation, and in Grecian Pythism. -But the particular reason why his announcements caused such prodigious -excitement, in 1784, as to run all Paris mad, even including the -court of the wary Louis XVI., and still continue to excite and -madden mankind, is, that, as the sympathetic ecstacies and furors, -superinduced by the mummeries of his famous “vat,” were called by a -new name, the people failed to recognise them, although they had been -familiarised with, and even acting habitually under their influence, -while surrounded by accessories of a more sacred character. The -immediate success of Mesmer’s experiments amazed men. He, in fact, -little knew what he was doing himself; the effects he understood how to -produce, because accident had furnished him with the formulas. Having -gone through these, which, though most grotesque and preposterous, -later experience has shown, really included all the “passes” and other -conditions necessary to establish sympathy through the nervous fluid -with the victims of his delusion, he proceeded to produce exhibitions -the most extraordinary the world ever saw, except in the hideous and -frantic orgies of some wild, barbaric creed, and the parallels to -which, in this country, are to be found in the shrieks and bellowings -of a fanatic camp-meeting, Miller ascension-tent, Mormon rite, or -hard-cider political mass-meeting. - -Beginning with the postulate that “Nature abhors a vacuum,” it does not -seem difficult to understand something, at least, of the rationale -of this sympathetic influence of one man over another. The laws of -the distribution of this Odic force seem to bear a somewhat general -affinity to those of electricity. The surcharged cloud discharges -its superfluous fluid into the cloud more negatively charged. The -man holding a superfluous amount of vital or Odic force, can dismiss -a portion of this—along the course of its proper lightning-rods, or -conveyers, the nerves—into the organisation of a being more negatively -charged, or, in other words, of a weaker man. As electricity can only -act upon inert matter through its proper media, the elements, so -the Odic fluid can only act upon organised matter normally through -its proper medium, the nerves of vitality. This communication of -the Odic fluid, by which sympathy between the two beings has been -established, can be, to a certain degree, regulated and controlled by -manipulations which bring the thumbs and fingers of the hand, which are -properly Odic poles, in contact with certain great nerves, or centres -of nerves, along which the influence can be readily communicated. -These manipulations, the vital and original meanings of which these -Mesmer agitators have betrayed, may be traced very clearly through -the most important ceremonies of religion, and the secret orders of -fraternisation in the world. From this point of view, how significant -the “laying-on of hands” in ordination, the “joining of hands” in the -marriage ceremony, &c. - -Here let us remark, that we would no more be understood as accusing -a Christian Priesthood, in modern times, of having made an improper -use, either inside or out of their profession, of the manipulations -mentioned above, than we would think of accusing them of having, as -a class, any special knowledge of their significance beyond that of -ceremonial forms, set down in the discipline. It has been to the -Heathen Priesthood that we have consistently attributed a knowledge of -the psychological meaning of these ceremonials, which have descended -through the Hebrew and Christian churches as avowedly divested of vital -significance, and intended, in their arbitrary exaction, as, to a -certain degree, ordained tests of Christian faith and obedience. - -But it is by no means indispensable to the exhibition of the Odic -phenomena, that the processes of manipulation should have been -literally gone through with in all cases—nor, indeed, in the majority -even—for some of the most apparently inexplicable and extraordinary -of them all are brought about without such intervention. Take, as -comparatively “modern instances,” such effects as those produced by -the preaching of Peter the Hermit, when not only vast armies of men -were moved like flights of locusts toward the Desert, on the breeze of -his fiery breath, to disappear, too, as they, within its bosom, and -never be heard from again, but even great armies of children rushed -in migratory hordes to the sea-ports, to ship for the Holy Land!—and -those produced by the crusade of Father Mathew against intemperance, in -our time, when all Ireland lay wailing at his feet. These great furors -were precisely identical with those already enumerated, so far as the -sympathetic or motive power went. So with the story of the rise of -Mahomet, Joe Smith, Miller, and all such agitators. They are usually -men of prodigious vital power, and of course surcharged with the Odic -fluid, who begin these great movements; and they possess, beside, -vast patience and endurance. They begin by filling the individuals in -immediate contact with them, as Mahomet did his own family, with the -superfluity of the Odic force in themselves, and having thus obtained -a single medium by this immediate contact—which, although it may not -imply the formal manipulations with preconceived design, implies the -accidental equivalents—the circle gradually enlarges through each -fresh accession, in much the same way that it began, until, after a -few patient years of unshaken endurance, the apostle finds himself -surrounded by thousands and thousands of human beings, whose volition -is swayed through this Odic force—this sympathetic medium—by his own -central, resolute, and self-poised will, as if they were but one man. -His moveless volition has been, from the beginning, the base and axis -of the vast sympathetic movement going on around him, and upon the -single strength of the Odic force within him, all depends, until, -through a thorough organisation of ceremonial laws and observances, the -system of which he was the vital centre assumes a corporate existence, -and can stand alone. - -This is about the method in which all such organisations, radiating -from the _one man_ power or centre, widen their circles to an extreme -circumference, until the force of the pebble thrown into the great -lake is exhausted. So it is with all sympathetic excitements—from -the Dancing Dervishes, the Shaking Quakers, or the Barking Brothers, -to the vast Empire of France, led frenzied over the world in the -will-o’-the-wisp chase of universal sovereignty, by the fantastic will -of a Napoleon. These are some of the general phenomena of sympathy, -and there are many quite as extraordinary, if not as broad in what -are called atmospheric or epidemic conditions, which go to prove the -universality of this sympathetic law. - -The distinctions between Od and Heat, Od and Electricity, as well as Od -and Magnetism, have been so clearly demonstrated by the investigations -of Baron Reichenbach as to leave at present no choice between the -terms. Od expresses that force which, differing in many essential -properties from the other two, can alone through its phenomena be -reconciled with what we know of the Sympathetic or Nervous Fluid. -It is therefore used as a synonym of this mysterious agency, and as -conveying a far higher definition and significance than either the term -Electricity or Mesmerism. - -The worst and the best that the agitation begun by Mesmer has -accomplished, is, to have stripped old Necromancy of its mysterious -spells, by revealing something of the rationale of them, while at the -same time, in unveiling its processes to the sharp eyes of modern -knaves, they have been enabled to appropriate and practise them again -with even more than the old success, under the new christening of -“scientific experiment.” It is, I think, easily enough shown, by a -minute and circumstantial comparison of the cotemporary history of -the dark age of black art ascendancy in Europe, which was literally -the dark age of chivalry, with that of Cotton Mather witch-burning -enlightenment in New England, that the arts practised by the accused -in both these countries, and at all other such periods in all -other countries, were nearly identical with each other; and those -familiarised to us through the doings of mesmeric manipulation, -revelation, clairvoyance, spiritual knockings, &c., &c., are generally -the very same, though assuming slight shades of difference, indicating -some progressive development. A partial knowledge of psychological -laws, which was formerly, and with great plausibility, considered -altogether too dangerous pabulum for the vulgar mind, has been sown -broadcast by the empiricism of this mesmeric movement, the principal -oracles and expounders of which have been clearly as ignorant of the -causes with which they agitated, as ever wrinkled crone of peat-smoked -hovel was of the true laws of that occult palmistry, through the -practice, or vague traditions of which, she finally prophesied -herself into the martyrdom of the “red-hot ploughshares,” or the warm -resting-place of the pot of boiling pitch. They only know that certain -formulas produce certain results, and as they are blundering entirely -in the dark, they mix those which have a basis in science with the -crude and meaningless forms which ignorance, with its abject cunning, -easily supplies. From such amalgamations have arisen the mummeries of -conjuration in whatever form, and by the imprudent use of which, the -credulous, simple and superstitious, are so easily “frightened from -their propriety,” and thus made easy victims of more dangerous arts. - -But it is a study of the fearful uses which have been made by the -evil-disposed, of this _partial_ knowledge of the laws of relation -of soul to the body, that is more interesting now than these olden -disguises of the same evil in more helpless forms; as now, through -the mesmeric agitation, it has really attained to some gleam of -causes—has now something of scientific illumination to steady and -give direction to its reckless and deadly aim. In the radius of its -hurtful circumference, the vicious power of the witch, fortune-teller -or conjuror, was as much more circumscribed than that of the -semi-scientific charlatan of clairvoyance, as the vision of the mole -is less than that of the viper, which, at least, looks out into the -sunshine though every cloud may impede its malignant gaze. - -The relative degrees in which the Odic or sympathetic fluid may be -found exhibited in the different individuals of our race, have been -previously remarked in general terms. In the sexes, we most usually -find the positive pole in man, who gives out, and the negative in -woman, who receives and absorbs from him, the dispenser. Though this -be the general rule so far as the sexes are concerned, it is by no -means the universal rule for the race—since there are among men but -few positive poles, or fixed centres of Odic radiation; and where such -are found, they are observed to possess much of what we commonly call -“influence” with or upon others. All the parties, therefore, within the -circle of this sympathetic radiation, or “magnetic attraction,” as it -is popularly termed, must necessarily be, relatively to this positive -pole, negative poles, without regard to sex—while each of these -comparatively negative poles may in turn be a positive pole, or Odic -centre, to those below or of weaker nature than himself. - -Those men who have been known to all humanity as prophets, poets, -law-givers, discoverers, reformers, &c., are, and have been, what we -mean by positive Odic poles; for while they have seemed to stand in -immediate and direct communion with the spiritual source of all wisdom, -they have at the same time given out the impulse thus granted, to the -people by whom they are surrounded, thus acting as the chosen media of -divine revelation, and from the cloudy summits of Sinais handing down -the tables of the law to all the tribes. - -Now there is a mighty radiation of the Odic force from these men, -through which the love, wisdom, or rather will in them—or sent through -them—is made operative upon the great masses of mankind; and this -same radiation, in the greater or less degrees, is found emanating -from a thousand different sources at the same time, affecting man -for evil as well as for good; for, when we comprehend that this -Odic or sympathetic force is the sole medium of communication with -the spiritual and invisible world, as well as with the visible and -material world, it can then be easily understood how what are called -“evil” and “good spirits” should through it affect mankind. This will -be fully illustrated when we observe the common conditions of health -and disease. Health is good and disease is evil; and these are the -two eternally antagonistic chemical forces in the universe. Health is -that normal condition of the body which enables it to resist evil and -maintain the proper balance of the spiritual and material elements. -Disease is that abnormal condition of the body in which the integrity -of the spiritual and organic functions has been destroyed through the -sympathetic media by evil, and good overcome. - -In either case, the balance is destroyed, and the immediate consequence -may be, in the one, sudden paroxysms of fearful insanity, or in the -other, sudden death, as in common apoplexy. - -Thus the popular fallacy, that all things having a source in the -spiritual, or rather the invisible, must of necessity be good, is -in a very simple way exposed. We see there may be what are called -evil, as well as good spirits, which hold communion with us; and the -safest and only true general rule with regard to such matters is, -that, while the good spirits are those propitious chemical forces -which make themselves known to us in love, and joy, and peace, through -the unbounded happiness of the normal conditions of health, the evil -spirits are those vicious chemical forces, morbid delusions, and -malign revelations, which are made known to us through all other -diseased conditions as well as that of Clairvoyance. Remember that no -such being has yet been known throughout the whole range of Mesmeric -experiment as a healthy Clairvoyant, or a “subject” who has attained to -the super-eminence of Clairvoyance, who was not what they fancifully -term “delicate”—that is, liable to those diseases which are well known -to supervene upon nervous weakness, exhaustion, or emasculation. -This condition of nervous exhaustion renders them, of course, the -very negation of the negative pole of sympathy, and the first person -approaching them, who possesses the ordinary Odic conditions of health, -is clutched hold of by their famine-struck vitality, in the agonised -plea for life! life! - -“Give! give!” is still the insatiable cry. They must have the Odic -fluid restored, and that, in taking from your “enough,” they exhaust -and undermine the holy purposes of your life to make up that deficit -in their own—which loathsome vice has brought about—the “hideous -selfishness of weakness” rather rejoices. The sympathetic _rapporte_ -being once established, they can at least, through this dangerous -medium, live in the integrities of your life, and enjoy, both -physically and spiritually, a surreptitious vitality, which, while it -reflects the prevailing phenomena of your own mind and spiritual being, -has, in addition, some approximation even to the physical exaltation of -your higher health. - -These human vampires or sponges may be, therefore, as well absorbents -of the spiritual as animal vitality. Their parasitical roots may strike -into the very centres of life, and their hungry suckers remorselessly -draw away the virility of manhood, or the spiritual strength. - -They seem to be mainly divided into two classes, one of which, born, -seemingly, with but a rudimentary soul, attains to its apparent -spiritual though merely mental development, by absorption of the -spiritual life in others, through the Odic medium. Another class, -born with a predominating spirituality based upon a feeble physique, -is ravenous of animal strength, and can only live by its sympathetic -absorption of the same from others, through the same pervading medium. -Of the two, the first is the evil type; for, born in the gross sphere -of the passions, with a vigorous organisation, but faintly illuminated -at the beginning with that golden light of love which is spiritual -life, the fierce half-monkey being is propelled onwards, and even -upwards, by the basest of the purely animal instincts, appetites, and -lusts. If such beings strive towards the light of the harmonious and -the beautiful, it is not because they yearn for either the holy or the -good, but because it lends a lurid charm to appetite and glorifies a -lust. - -The other character, in whom the spiritual predominates, whether -from a natal inequality, as is very frequently the case, or from the -sheer exhaustion of the physical powers, through emasculating vices, -is yet, in itself, good, so far as its morbid conditions leave it an -unaccountable being; but, as its revelations and utterings depend -entirely upon the Odic characters and will of those from whom its -strength may be derived, it can only be regarded, whether used for -evil or good, as a medium. This character is the common Clairvoyant, -to whom we are indebted for those strangely-mingled gleams of remote -truth, with errors the most grave and injurious, which have so -tended to confuse the judgment of mankind in regard to the phenomena -of Clairvoyance. Such persons can be made as readily the medium of -any falsehood which the knavish passions of their “Mesmerisers” may -dictate, as they can be caused to announce, by a will as strong, but -soul more pure, the disconnected myths of science and of history, which -have so surprised the world in what are called the “Revelations” of -Andrew Jackson Davis. This man belongs to our second class, and is -purely “a medium” of the sympathetic fluid. His organisation is most -sensibly sympathetic and delicately responsive, but is too feeble -to balance his spiritual development. His case stands, therefore, -as the most remarkable modern instance of what the ancients termed -“_vaticination_;” but, as has been the case with other false prophets, -his “gifts” have proved of no value, except to knaves. He was -undoubtedly practised upon by a choice set of such characters; and, now -that he has found in marriage a sympathetic restoration, through the -physical, of its needed balance with the spiritual, he has lost his -“lying gift” of prophecy. - - * * * * * - -We have examined this man carefully, and are convinced that the -whole mystery of his revelations and character may be contained in a -nut-shell. He is to the sphere of intellectual and spiritual sympathy, -and in a lower sense, precisely an analogous case with that of Mozart -in the sphere of the musical and spiritual. When the great soul of -humanity has been long—say one generation—in travail with a great -thought in art, science, music, or mechanics, there is sure to be -somebody born in the succeeding generation who is physically, mentally, -and spiritually, the impersonation and embodiment of this thought, of -which the age is in labor, and who must of necessity become, solely and -singly, the expression and embodiment thereof. Thus Mozart, the infant -prodigy in music, who at five years old was the pet of monarchs and -the miracle of his age, continued, with no signs of precociousness, a -steady and consistent development, which showed him to be indeed the -embodiment of the musical inspirations of his age. His revelations in -music were just as prodigious as even the rabid worshippers of the -Davis revelations would imagine those to be; yet there are some most -essential differences between the results of the two. - -Davis, born amidst the travail of this new Mesmeric agitation, became -the most sensitive organ of the sympathetic fluid in intellect, as the -other had been in music; but as, in the case of Mozart, the exciting -cause came from Nature, and constituted her purest and most sacred -inspirations, so the inspiration of Davis came from man, with all his -imperfections and subjective tendencies. The sequel has been, the -inspirations of Mozart are considered now by mankind as only second -to the Divine, while those of Davis are justly regarded as morbid, -fragmentary, incomplete, and worthless. - -The organisation of Mozart was equally sympathetic with that of Davis; -but it was of that healthy tone which could only respond to nature -and the natural; while the organisation of Davis belongs to that much -inferior type, which, from its morbid and unbalanced conditions, -can respond only to the human as the representative of nature. Such -persons receive nothing direct from nature, but only through its -representative, man. - -It would seem as if the world were absolutely divided into two -classes—the radiating and the absorbing; the first receiving from -nature, and the second from man. In the first, are the holy brotherhood -of prophets and the poets, and in the second, the poor slaves of -sympathy—the knaves and fools—the impostors who play upon its -well-known laws, and, deceiving themselves as well as others, may well -be said to “know not what they do.” - -We are convinced that no man, who has kept himself informed of the -psychological history and progress of his race, can by any means fail -to recognise at once, in the pretended “Revelations” of Davis, the -mere _disjecta membra_ of the systems so extensively promulgated by -Fourier and Swedenborg. When you come to compare this fact with the -additional one, that Davis, during the whole period of his “utterings,” -was surrounded by groups, consisting of the disciples of Fourier and -Swedenborg; as, for instance, the leading Fourierite of America was, -for a time, a constant attendant upon those mysterious meetings, at -which the myths of innocent Davis were formally announced from the -condition of Clairvoyance, and transcribed by his _keeper_ for the -press, while the chief exponent and minister of Swedenborgianism in New -York was often seated side by side with him. - -Can it be possible that these men failed to comprehend, as thought -after thought, principle after principle, was enunciated in their -presence, which they had previously supposed to belong exclusively -to their own schools, that the “revelation” was merely a sympathetic -reflex of their own derived systems? It was no accident; for, as often -as Fourierism predominated in “the evening lecture,” it was sure -that the prime representative of Fourier was present; and when the -peculiar views of Swedenborg prevailed, it was equally certain that -he was forcibly represented in the conclave. Sometimes both schools -were present; and on that identical occasion we have a composite -metaphysics promulgated, which exhibited, most consistently, doctrines -of Swedenborg and Fourier, jumbled in liberal and extraordinary -confusion. This is, in epitome, about the whole history of such -agitations. The weak Clairvoyant falls naturally into the hands of -knaves who are superior to him in physical vitality. He becomes, -first, the medium of their vague and feeble intellection; and then, as -attention is attracted by the notoriety they know well how to produce, -the “_medium_” becomes gradually surrounded by the enthusiasts of -every school; and as he is brought into their various Odic spheres, he -pronounces the creed of each in his morbidly illuminated language, and -it sounds to the mob like inspiration. - -There is no greater nonsense; men are inspired through natural laws. -But this comparatively innocuous character, which we have thus far -stepped aside to indicate, is nothing compared to the first specimen -of this Clairvoyant type which we have classified. This, it will be -remembered, is the animal born with feeble spirituality, but vigorous -physique, which is, at the same time, intensely sympathetic. These, as -we have said, are the infernal natures; for, possessing no life outside -the lower animal passions, self is to them the close centre of all -being, and their Odic sensitiveness a vampire-absorption, the horrible -craving of which, not content with the mere exhaustion of the animal -life of the victim, by wanton provocations, drinks up soul and mind to -fill the beastly void of their own. These worse than ghouls, that live -upon the dying rather than the dead, possess some fearfully dangerous -and extraordinary powers. - -Vampirism, as a superstition, prevailed, not many years ago, like a -general pestilence, throughout the countries of Servia and Wallachia. -Whole districts, infected by this horrible disease, were desolated; -people grew wild with terror, and, in their savage ignorance, committed -monstrous sacrilege upon the sanctities of burial. Bodies that had -rested quietly in their graves for ten, twenty, and even eighty days, -were dragged forth, to have stakes driven through their chests; and if -any blood was found, they were burned to ashes. - -The belief was, that the deceased, when living, had been bitten by a -human vampire, which, coming forth from its grave by night, had sunk -its white teeth in his throat, and drunk his blood, thereby causing a -lingering death; in which he was also doomed to the hideous fate of -becoming a vampire, after his burial. - -The bodies of vampires, when dug up, presented a perfectly natural -appearance; and, even in those cases where the scarfskin peeled off, -a new skin was found underneath, and new nails formed on the fingers. -The vital blood was found in the heart, lungs, and viscera, exhibiting -the conditions of perfect health. How the vampire got out of his grave, -without scratching a hole, does not appear. - -Thus we find, in modern vampirism, a strange compound of ancient -superstition with well-known scientific truths. The vampire is the -counterpart of the ancient ghoul, with the simple transfer of the -habits of the vampire-bat to its identity. These are then connected -with the fact, well known to the medical profession, that persons have -been buried, supposed to be dead, who, in reality, had only fallen into -what is called the death-trance; and who, had they been left above -ground for a sufficient period, would have probably resuscitated of -themselves. That they have done so after burial, is a familiar fact; -since bodies exhumed, long after, have been found to have changed their -position in the coffin. How long bodies, thus inconsiderately buried, -retain a resemblance to the normal conditions of life, has not been -fully ascertained. - -We have here the historical origin of what is called vampirism; but -there are certain phenomena of this fearful infection, closely -resembling those which we have attributed to the Spiritual Vampire. - -Vampirism is clearly a disease of the nervous system; it being first -excited through the imagination of ignorance and superstition. The -nerves, then affected through the odic medium, lose their balance, and -the mind constantly playing within the circle of the one thought of -horror, a rapid and premature decline is the immediate consequence. - -The infection of which the victim died remaining still within the odic -medium of the sphere it occupied, passes into the nerves of others, who -die also; and thus the disease spreads like any other epidemic. But -mark—whence the true origin of this superstition of the ghoul and the -vampire, so universal in the world? Is it not that mankind, everywhere, -has felt, with an unconscious shuddering, the presence of the spiritual -vampire? The instincts of the masses have, in their superstitions, -foreshadowed all the great discoveries of science. Has it not been, -that they have felt the hideous incubus always; but not being able, -through any connected series of observations, to discover the real -cause of their dread and suffering, have given its nearly identical -attributes a “local habitation and a name” among their superstitions? - -What we have termed the Spiritual Vampire, is a scientific fact—we -believe as much so as the bat-vampire; and that it feeds, not alone -upon the living, but upon the spiritually dead; that originally, so -far as its spiritual entity is concerned, it too comes forth from its -sensual charnal to feed upon the soul-blood of mankind. This may seem a -horrible picture, but we cannot consent to withdraw it. These records -were made under a sense of duty to mankind; and if they should ever see -the light, it must be as they have been written. We dare not reveal -all that we know of this thing—we can only venture to say enough to -arouse men in amazement, at the realisation of what they have always -known and felt to exist, without having expressed it. No mortal mind -could have conceived such possibilities, even in hell, much less in -actual life. - -Amidst the profound securities of the best-ordered households in the -world, unless a strict eye be had to such facts and phenomena as we -have adverted to and shall describe, the most insidious and fatal -corruptions of the bodies and souls of your children, your wives, and -your sisters, may creep in, while there is no dream of wrong or danger. -If we shock you, it is to put you somewhat upon your guard against the -many evils, concealed under the apparent harmless approaches of the -viciously-purposed manipulator, or the covert practiser upon the odic -or sympathetic vitality of the pure and unsuspecting.—We will abide the -issue. - -Milton clearly had vampirism in his thought when he wrote— - - “Clotted by contagion, - Imbodied and imbruited, till quite lost - The divine property of their first being— - Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp, - Oft seen, in charnal-vaults and sepulchres, - Lingering and sitting by a new-made grave.” - - - - - SPIRITUAL VAMPIRISM; - - OR, - - THE HISTORY OF ETHERIAL SOFTDOWN. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - THE GIRLHOOD OF ETHERIAL. - - “Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damned?” - - -In a mean and sterile district of Vermont, which shall be nameless, -but which exhibits on every side stretches of bare land, with here -and there the variety of clumps of gnarled and stunted oaks, Etherial -Softdown was born. If mountains give birth to heroes, what ought to -have been the product of a low-lying land like this, on whose dreary -basins the summer’s sun wilted the feeble vegetation, and the bleak -winds of winter wrestled fiercely with the scrubby oaks, whose crooked -and claw-like limbs seemed talons of some hideous, gaunt and reptile -growth? - -On the edge of one of the most desolate of these stretches, and beneath -the shelter of the most ugly of these demonised oaks, were scattered -the storm-blackened sheds of a miserable hamlet, in one of which, for -there were no degrees in their comfortless dilapidation, the family -of our heroine, the Softdowns, resided, and another yet smaller and -at some distance apart from the rest, was occupied by her father, -who was a shoemaker, as a workshop. This was one of those strange, -out-of-the-way, starved and dismal looking places that you sometimes -stumble upon in our prosperous land—which ought long since to have been -deserted with the vanished cause of the temporary prosperity which had -given it birth—but in which the people seem to be petrified into a -morbid serenity of endurance, and look as if under the spell of some -great Enchanter they awaited his awakening touch. - -The child, which was the birth of a coarsely organised mother, was as -drolly deformed with its squint eye and stooping shoulders as fancy -could depict the elfin genius of such a scene. Dirty, bedraggled and -neglected, with unkempt locks tangled and writhing like snakes about -her face, and sharp, gray animal eyes gleaming from beneath, the -ill-conditioned creature darted impishly hither and yon amidst the -hamlet hovels, or peering from some thicket of weird oaks, started the -stolid neighbors with the dread that apparitions bring. - -Indeed, so wilful, unexpected and eccentric were her movements, that -the people, in addition to regarding the oaf-like child with a half -feeling of dread, gave her the credit of being half-witted as well. -There was a hungry sharpness in her eye that made them shrink; a -furious, raging, craving lust for something, they could not understand -what, which startled them beyond measure; for, as in their stagnant -lives, they had never been much troubled with souls themselves, they -could not understand this soul-famine that so whetted those fierce -eager eyes. - -The father, Softdown, who appears to have been something more developed -than the mother, and to have possessed a grotesque and rugged wit, -more remarkable for its directness than its delicacy, became the sole -instructor and companion of the distraught child, who readily acquired -from him an uncouth method of enouncing trite truisms unexpectedly, -which was to constitute in after life one of her chief, because most -successful weapons. - -Etherial early displayed a passion for acquiring not knowledge, but a -facility of gibberish, which proved exhausting enough to the shallow -receptacles around her, especially as her mode of getting at the names -and properties of things so closely resembled the monkey’s method of -studying physical laws. She had first to burn her fingers before she -could be made to comprehend that fire was hot, but that was enough -about fire for this wise child; she remembered it ever after as a -physical sensation, and therefore it had ever after a name for her; -and so with all other experiences, they were to her sensational, not -spiritual or intellectual. The name of a truth could come to her with -great vividness through a blow or pain of whatever character that might -be purely physical, but through no higher senses, for these she did -not yet possess. Of a moral sense she seemed now to develop no more -consciousness than any other wild animal, but in her the _memory of -sensation_ took the place of mind and soul. - -Thus passed the girlhood of our slattern oaf—shy and sullen—avoiding -others herself, and gladly avoided by them, with the single exception -of her father, from whom her strong imitative or sympathetic faculty -was daily acquiring a rough, keen readiness of repartee, in the use of -which she found abundant home-practice in defending herself against the -smarting malignity of the matron Softdown, who charmingly combined in -her person and habits all and singly the cleanly graces of the fishwife. - -At sixteen, with no advance in personal loveliness, with passions -fiercely developed, a mind nearly utterly blank, a taste for tawdry -finery quite as drolly crude as that displayed by the plantation -negresses of the South, and manners so fantastically awkward and -eccentric as to leave the general impression that she was underwitted, -Etherial suddenly married a lusty and good-looking young Quaker, threw -off her bedraggled plumes, and became a member of that prim order. - -Now her career commences in earnest, for this was the first great -step in her life in which she seems to have attained to some gleams -of the knowledge of that extraordinary power of Odic irradiation and -absorption which was afterwards to be exercised with such remarkable -results. - -She did not make her great discovery without comprehending its meaning -quickly. She first perceived that, day by day, she grew more comely -to look upon—that her figure was becoming erect, and losing its harsh -angularities—the pitiless obliquity of her features growing more -reconciled to harmonious lines—and last, and most astounding, that the -immediate result of the contact of marriage had been a rapid increase -of her own spiritual and mental illumination, accompanied as well by a -corresponding decline on the part of the husband in both these respects. - -Here was a secret for you with a vengeance! Like an electric flash, -a new light burst upon Etherial; and, as there was only one feeling -of which her being was capable towards man, she chuckled over the -delicious secret which now opened out before her with a terrible -gloating. - -Glorious discovery! Hah! the spiritual vampire might feed on his -strength—might grow strong on this cannibalism of the soul! and what -of him if she dragged him down into idiocy? Served him right! Did -Etherial care that his spiritual death must be her life? She laughed -and screamed with the joy of unutterable ferocity! Eureka! Eureka! They -shall all be my slaves! They taunt me with being born without a soul, -with being underwitted! I shall devour souls hereafter by the hundreds! -I shall grow fat upon them! We shall see who has the wit! Their -thoughts shall be my thoughts, their brains shall work for me, their -spirits shall inform my frame! Ah, glorious! glorious! I shall live on -souls hereafter! I shall go up and down in the land, seeking whom I may -devour! Delicious! Delectable Etherial! - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - SCENES IN THE GOTHAM CARAVANSARIE. - - And all around her, shapes, wizard and brute, - Laughing and wailing, grovelling, serpentine, - Showing tooth, tusk, and venom-bag, and sting! - O, such deformities! - ENDYMION. - - -In Barclay Street, New York, years ago, flourished, at No. 63, -that famous caravansarie of all the most rabid wild animals on the -Continent, who styled themselves Reformers and New-light People, -Come-outers, Vegetarians, Abolitionists, Amalgamationists, &c. &c., -well known to fame as the “Graham House.” Here, any fine morning, -at the breakfast-table, you might meet a dozen or so of the most -boisterous of the then existing or embryo Reform notorieties of the -day. Mark, we say _notorieties_, for that is the word. - -From the Meglatherium Oracle, whose monstrous head, covered with -a mouldy excrescence, answering for hair, which gave it most the -seeming of a huge swamp-born fungus of a night—who sat bolting his -hard-boiled eggs by the dozen, with bran-bread in proportion, washing -them down with pints of diluted parched-corn coffee—even to the -most meagre, hungry-eyed, and talon-fingered of the soul-starved -World-Reformers, that stooped forward amidst the babble, and, between -huge gulps of hot meal mush, croaked forth his orphic words—they were -all one and alike—the mutterers of myths made yet more misty by their -parrot-mouthings of them! - -Here every crude, ungainly crotchet that ever possessed ignorant -and presumptuous brains; here every wild and unbroken hobby that -ever driveller or madman rode, was urged together, pell-mell, in a -loud-voiced gabbling chaos. Here the negro squared his uncouth and -musky-ebon personalities beside the fair, frail form of some lean, -rectangular-figured spinster-devotee of amalgamation from New England. - -Here the hollow-eyed bony spectre of an old bran-bread disciple stared, -in the grim ecstacy of anticipation, at the ruddy cheeks of the new -convert opposite, whose lymphatic, well-conditioned corporation -shivered with affright, as he met those ravin-lit eyes, and a vague -sense of their awful meaning first possessed him, as his furtive glance -took in the sterile “spread” upon the table, to which he had been -ostentatiously summoned for “a feast.” - -Here some Come-outer Quaker, with what had been, at best, cropped -hair, might be seen with the crop now shaven yet more close to his -bullet-head, in sign of his greater accession in spiritual strength -beyond the heathen he had left behind, sitting side by side with some -New-light or Phalanxterian apostle, with his long, sandy, carroty, or -rather _golden_ locks, as he chooses to style them, cultivated down his -back in a ludicrously impious emulation of the revered “Christ Head” of -the old Italian painters. - -Here the blustering peace-man and professed non-resistant, railed -with a noisy insolence, rendered more insufferably insulting in the -precise ratio of exemption from personal accountability claimed by his -pusillanimous doctrines. Here too, a notorious Abolitionist, with his -tallow-skinned and generally-disgusting face, roared through gross lips -his vulgar anathemas against the South, which had foolishly canonised -this soulless and meddlesome _non-resistant_ ruffian, in expressing -their readiness to hang him, should he be caught within their territory. - -Here the weak and puling sectary of some milk-and-water creed rolled up -his rheumy eyes amidst the din, and sighed for horror of a “sad, wicked -world.” Here the sharp animal eyes, the cool effrontery and hard-faced -impudence of ignoramus Professors of all sorts of occult sciences, -ologies, and isms, met you, with hungry glances that seemed searching -for “the green” in your eye; and mingled with the whole, a sufficiently -spicy sprinkle of feminine “Professors,” of the same class, whose bold -looks and sensual faces were quite sufficient offsets to the extreme -etherialisation of their spiritualized doctrines. - -Here, in a word, the blank and ever-shocking glare of harmless and -positive idiocy absolutely would escape notice at all, or be mistaken -for the solid repose of common sense, in contrast with the unnatural -sultry wildness of the prevailing and predominating expression! - -But this menagerie of mad people held caged, in one of its upper rooms, -the object of immediate interest. On entering the apartment, which -was an ordinary boarding-house bedchamber, a scene at once shocking -and startling was presented. A female, seemingly about thirty-three, -was stretched upon a low cot-bed, near the middle of the floor, while -on the bed and upon the floor were scattered napkins, which appeared -deeply saturated with blood, with which the pillow-case and sheet were -also stained. A napkin was pressed with a convulsive clutch of the -hands to her mouth, into which, with a low, suffocating cough, which -now and then broke the silence, she seemed to be throwing up quantities -of blood from what appeared an alarming hemorrhage. - -A gentleman, whose neat apparel and fresh benevolent face somehow spoke -“physician!” leaned over the woman, with an expression of anxiety, -which appeared to be subdued by great effort of a trained will. He bent -lower, and in an almost whispered voice, said: - -“My dear madam, you _must_ restrain yourself. This hemorrhage continues -beyond the reach of any remedies, so long as you permit this violent -excitement of your maternal feelings to continue. Let me exhort you to -patience—to bear the necessary evils of your unfortunate condition with -more patience!” - -The only answer was a slow despairing shake of the head, accompanied -by a deep hysterical groan, which seemed to flood the napkin at her -mouth with a fresh effusion of blood, which now trickled between her -fingers and down upon her breast. The humane physician turned, with -an uncontrollable expression of horrified sympathy and alarm upon his -face, and snatching a clean napkin from the table, gently removed -the saturated cloth from the clutching pressure of her fingers, and -tenderly wiping the blood from her mouth and person, left the clean one -in her grasp. - -“Be calm! be calm—I pray you! you must some day escape his -persecutions. You have friends; they will assist you to obtain a -divorce yet, and rescue your child from his clutches. Do, pray now, be -calm!” The voice of the good man trembled with emotion while he spoke, -and the perspiration started from his forehead. - -At this instant the door was suddenly thrown open, and a tall, gaunt -man, with a very small round head, leaden eyes, and a wide ungainly -mouth, with a projecting under jaw, singularly expressive of animal -stolidity, paused on the threshold and coolly looked around the room. -The woman sprang forward at the sight, as if to rise, while a fresh -gush of blood poured from her mouth, bedabbling her fingers and the -sheet. The physician instinctively seized her to prevent her rising, -but, resisting the pressure by which he gently strove to restore her -head to the pillow, she retained her half-erect position, and with eyes -that had suddenly become strangely distorted, or awry in their sockets, -she glared towards the intruder for an instant, and then slowly raising -her flickering hand, which dripped with her own blood, she pointed at -him, and muttered, in a sepulchral voice, that, besides, seemed choking: - -“That is he! see him! see him! There stands the monster who would rob -me of my babe, as he daily robs me of money.” Here the blood gushed up -again, and she was for a moment suffocated into silence, as the object -of her denunciation stood perfectly unmoved, while a cold smile half -lit his leaden eyes. This seemed to fill the apparently dying woman -with renewed and hysterical life. She raised herself yet more erect, -and still pointing with her bloody, quivering finger, while her head -tossed to and fro, and the distorted eyes glared staringly out before -her, she spoke in a gasping, uncertain way, as if communing with -herself. “The wretch taunts me! my murderer dares to sneer! O God! -must this always continue? must that brute always follow me up and -down in the land, to rob me of the money that I earn—to be my tyrant, -my jailor! He will not give me money to pay postage even, out of that -I earn abundantly, while he is earning nothing. He will not give me -clothes to keep me decent, while I earn enough. He will not give my -child shoes to wear, though he is trying to take her from me!” - -“That is a lie, Etherial! you know I gave the child a new pair -yesterday!” gruffly interposed the man at this stage of the deeply -tragic soliloquy, while he stepped forward towards the bed. A choking -scream followed, and the blood was spattered over the spread as she -fell back screaming— - -“Take him away! take him away! He is killing me with his brutality!” -and then her head sank in sudden collapse upon the pillow, and the -face, which had heretofore looked singularly natural in color, for one -in such a dreadful strait from hemorrhage, turned livid pale, while the -blood continued to pour upon the pillow from the corners of the relaxed -mouth. - -The poor physician, whose frame had been shivering with intense -excitement during this interview, sprang erect, as the form of what -he supposed to be a corpse fell heavily from his arms, and with -the natural indignation of a feeling man, fully roused at what he -considered the murderous brutality of the husband, rushed forward, and -seizing him furiously by the collar, shook and choked him in a perfect -ecstacy of rage, shouting, at the same time— - -“Unnatural beast! monster! You have killed that poor child at last! -murdered your own wife, whom you swore to nourish and protect! Infernal -villain! you ought to be drawn and quartered—hanging is too good -for you! You saw the terrible condition of the poor victim of your -brutalities when you came, yet you persisted! In the name of humanity, -I send you hence! Death is too light punishment for you!” and he -hurled the unresisting wretch—who, by this time, had grown perfectly -black in the face under the rough handling of this roused and indeed -infuriate humanity—staggering out of the door—and closing it upon him, -he proceeded to apply such restoratives as on an examination the real -condition of the patient suggested. - -A short and anxious investigation proved it to be rather a state -of syncope than actual death; and, with a full return of all his -professional caution, skill and coolness, he applied himself to the -restoration of his patient, with a heart greatly relieved by the -discovery that the result he so much dreaded was not yet, and hugging -to his kindly breast the consolation “while there is life there is -hope!” He paid no attention to clamorous knocks for admission and -loud-talking excitement, which the violence of the preceding scene had -no doubt caused in alarming the house. In a short time the good doctor -cautiously unbolted the door and came forth from the room, treading -as though on egg-shells. After leaving careful instructions with the -landlady that his patient, who now slept, should under no pretence be -disturbed, most especially by the husband, until his return, as her -present repose might prove a matter of life and death, he left the -house, promising to call again in two hours. - -For one hour the woman lay calm and motionless on her gory bed, as if -in catalepsy, when to a low, peculiar knock at the door, she sprang up, -wide awake, and in the apparent full possession of her faculties. - -“Who?” she asked, in a quick, firm tone, as she threw the hair back -from her eyes. - -To the low response, “I, love!” she stepped quickly from the bed and -snatched a shawl from the back of a chair, and by several rapid sideway -movements of her feet at the same time, thrust the bloody napkins which -strewed the floor beneath the bed, where they would be out of sight, -and by a movement almost as swift, threw a clean “spread” over the -blood-stained pillows and sheet, then drawing her large shawl closely -over the stained dressing-gown in which she had risen, she rushed -first to the glass, and smoothed her hair with an activity that was -positively amazing, and then to the door, which she unbolted on the -inside—showing that she must have risen to bolt it immediately as the -doctor passed out—and admitted a man who was in waiting. - -“Ah, my soul’s sister! my Heaven-bride! how is thy spiritual strength -this evening?” and at the same time, as her yielding form sank into his -outspread arms, he pressed her lips with his, adding, “I salute thy -chaste spirit!” - -“Brother of my soul, I was weary, but now I am at rest. I was wounded -and fainting by the way, but the good Samaritan has come!” and she -turned her eyes upward to his with a melting expression of confiding -abandon. - -“Angel!” accompanied by a closer and convulsive clasp, was the response. - -“What do they say of poor me again, to-day, those cruel wicked people -outside?” she asked, with eyes still reverentially upraised to his, as -they moved slowly with clasped arms towards the cot, on the side of -which they sat, she still leaning against his bosom. - -“My good sister, they say what evil spirits always prompt men to say of -the good, who, like the Prophets, are sent to be stoned and persecuted -on earth. You should not regard such. There are those who know you in -the spirit, to whom it has been revealed through the spiritual sense, -that you are good and true, as well as in the right, and through such, -you will find strength of the Father.” - -“Oh, you are so strong in spiritual mightiness that you do not -sympathise with the weaknesses of we humbler mortals! I wonder, indeed, -how you can forgive them?” and her downcast eyes were furtively raised -to his. The man wore his hair thrown back over his head and behind his -ears. He drew himself up slightly at this, and stroked back his locks, -then placing his hand with patriarchal solemnity upon her bowed head, -proceeded in a somewhat louder tone. “My simple child—my soul-sister, I -should say, you are hardly upon the threshold of the true wisdom. Your -knowledge of the law of spiritual correspondence is yet too incomplete -for you to understand how entirely good has been mistaken for evil, and -evil confounded with good in the world. For instance—it is called evil -by the ignorant world, for a brother man to caress thee in the spirit -as I have caressed thee but now. The imaginations of a world that lieth -in evil are impure. ‘Evil to him who evil thinks!’ The great doctrine -of correspondence teaches that there are two lives—the spiritual and -the animal. The passions of the animal are in the fleshly lusts; those -of the spiritual are in no wise such, they are in the Heavenly sphere, -they are of love and wisdom. Thus, my caress in this Heavenly sphere is -of no sin to thee, for by and through it I convey to you, my spiritual -sister, the strength of love and wisdom for which your heart yearns. -Thus—” - -As he stooped his head to renew the unresisted caress, the door flew -open again, and the man with the wide mouth, the hideous chin and the -leaden eye, stood again upon the threshold, and as the affrighted pair -looked up they saw he was backed by the curious faces of half-a-dozen -chambermaids, jealous of the honor of the _house_, flanked by the -indignant landlady and a score of prying, curious, sharp-eyed faces, -which might be recognised at a glance as belonging to those pickled -seraphs of reform, known as “free-spoken” spinsters in New England. - -“There, they are at it!” shouted the man with the gaping mouth. “I told -you so! I told you that Professor was always kissing her!” - -“Yes!” - -“There they are, sure enough!” - -“I always thought so!” - -“The honor of my house!” bristled the landlady, striding forward. “I -did not expect this of you, Professor!” - -“Madam!” said the gentleman with his hair behind his ears, striding -forward as he released the suddenly collapsed and seemingly lifeless -form he had just held within his embrace, and which fell back now -heavily upon the pillow-spread, which was instantly discolored by a new -gush of blood from the mouth. “I was administering, with all my zeal, -spiritual comfort to this poor, sick and dying sister, when you burst -in! See her condition now!” - -He waved his hand towards the tragic figure. “The Professor” occupied -a parlor on the first floor, beside two bed-rooms adjoining this, and -being on the palmy heights of his renown and plenitude of purse, it was -not convenient for the landlady to quarrel with him at present. “Ah, -if that is the case, Professor, I beg you to pardon us. The husband -of this woman has misrepresented you and your beneficent motives, and -accuses you of all sorts of improprieties. We came up, at his urgency, -to see for ourselves, and the shocking condition in which we find her -now, proves that the ravings of the husband are, as she has always -represented them, insane.” - -“I’ve seen you kissing her before!” roared the husband, advancing -threateningly upon the Professor, who, however spiritual in creed, did -not now appear particularly spirited, as he turned very pale, retreated -backwards, and holding up his two trembling hands imploringly, -exclaimed—“Hold! hold! my dear brother! It was a spiritual kiss! I -meant you no harm, nor that angel who lies there dying! Our kiss was -pure and holy as the new snow. Hold him! hold him! Don’t let him hurt -me! I am a non-resistant! I am for peace!” - -“Your holy kisses! I don’t believe in your holy kisses!” gnashed the -enraged husband, still following him up with warlike demonstrations; -but here the easily appeased landlady interposed once more, to save the -honor of her house in preventing a fight. - -“No blows in my house!” she shrieked, as she threw herself between -the parties. “The Professor is a man of God, and shall not be abused -here; shame on you, Aminadab, with your poor, persecuted wife there, -dying before your face! Everybody will believe what she says about your -persecutions now!” - -“Bah, you don’t know that woman! she’s no more dying than you are!” -grunted the fellow, whose wrath fortunately seemed to be of that kind -that a straw might turn it aside. All the women rolled up their eyes -and lifted their two hands at this speech. - -“What a brute!” - -“The horrid, murdering wretch! and she bleeding at the mouth, and from -the lungs, too!” - -“Lord save the poor woman’s soul, with a husband like that!” - -And other speeches of like character were ejaculated by all the women -present. - -At this moment a fresh effusion of blood, accompanied by a low groan, -from the mouth of the suffering patient, flooded the clean spread with -its purple current, and the horrified females rushed from the room, -screaming— - -“He’s killed her at last, poor thing!” - -“Where’s the doctor?” - -“She’s dying of his brutality—run for the doctor!” At this moment, -with a hasty and heavy step, that gentleman was heard advancing along -the passage, followed by a crowd of pale, frightened-looking women. He -strode into the room. - -“What now?—what’s to pay?” and his eye fell on the trembling form of -the brutal husband, who had by no means forgotten the rough handling he -had received, and now skulked and quailed like a whipped cur, as his -eye saw the instant thunder darken on the brow of the doughty doctor. - -“You here again—you brutal fellow? I shall instantly bind you over to -keep the peace toward this unfortunate woman, whose life you are daily -endangering by your brutalities. Take yourself off, sir!” Aminadab -waited for no second invitation, but availed himself of the open -doorway. - -Without noticing the spiritual professor, who had drawn himself into -as small space as possible in one corner, the good man advanced to the -side of his patient with an anxious, flurried manner. - -“What can that besotted wretch have been doing to her again?” and he -gently placed his fingers upon her pulse, and shook his head gravely as -he did so. - -“Very low! very low, indeed!—nearly absolute syncope again! This is -horrible! How sorry I am that I was compelled to leave her for a -moment.” - -“Is she really in danger, doctor?” asked the spiritual professor, -advancing with recovered assurance. - -“Who are you, sir?” he said, looking up sharply. “One of these -officious fools, I suppose?” Then glancing his eye around at the -crowded doorway, he straightened himself hastily, and exclaimed— - -“Leave the room, all of you—she must be quiet—I wish to be alone with -my patient! Leave the room, sir, I say!” in a sterner voice, as the -spiritual professor hesitated on his backward retreat. - -“I—I—I p-pro-test against the impropriety!” he stammered forth, looking -back at the women, with a very pale face, as he accelerated his -backward movement before the steady stride of the resolute doctor. - -“Out with you, sir—I will answer for the proprieties in this case!” - -The door was slammed in the ashy face of the spiritual professor, and -securely doubled-locked before the doctor returned to the bedside of -his patient. - -The bleeding from the mouth had now ceased. All the usual remedies -in such cases having so far entirely failed, the puzzled doctor had -come to the final conclusion that the hemorrhage—be its seat where it -might—was only to be subdued by a restoration of the patient to the -most perfect repose. Sleep, calm, unbroken sleep, to his sagacious -judgment and sensibilities, seemed to offer the sole alternative to -death. He had been impressed by his patient that her constitutional -tendencies were, by a sad inheritance, towards consumption, and the -loss from the lungs, of such quantities of blood as he had witnessed, -was well calculated to fill his professional mind with horror and -dread. The case had thus appeared to him a fearfully uncertain and -delicate one, and this sense may fully account for the stern and -unusual procedure of turning even the husband out of the room on the -two occasions we have mentioned. - -As her physician, he felt himself bound to protect his helpless -patient against those moral causes of irritation which he had been -led to believe existed, not only from her reluctant disclosures, -but from what he had himself witnessed. Believing that her beastly -husband was the chief and immediate cause of this fatal irritation, -he had felt himself justified in his rough course towards him, and -was now fully and resolutely determined to protect what he considered -a death-bed—providentially thrown into his charge—inviolate from -farther annoyance, from whatever quarter, at least so long as he held -the professional responsibility. In this resolute feeling, and as the -day was warm, he threw off his coat, raised all the windows, and sat -himself quietly down beside his patient to watch for results. - -The eyes of the kind man very naturally rested upon the object of his -solicitude, and after the first excitement of anxiety was over, and he -had settled calmly into a contemplative mood, he first became conscious -that there was something strangely fascinating in the position of the -nearly inanimate figure. He had never before thought of the being -before him as other than a very plain, but much-afflicted woman, by -whose evident physical calamities, no less than her private sufferings, -he had been strongly interested. - -She had told him her own story, and he had believed her, thinking -he saw confirmation enough in the conduct of those she accused of -ill-treatment; but the idea of regarding her as attractive in any -material sense, had never for an instant crossed his pure soul. Now -there was an indescribable something in her attitude, so expressive of -passion, that, in the pulseless silence, he felt himself blush to have -recognised it. - -Her arms, which he now remembered to have been _bare_ in all his late -interviews with her, were exquisitely rounded and beautifully white, -and he could not but wonder that he had not before observed the strange -contrast between them and the plain weather-beaten face. They looked -startlingly voluptuous now, contrasted with the pallid cheek which -rested on them, and the glossy folds of dark hair in which they were -entangled. So strikingly indeed was this expression conveyed, that even -the purple stains of blood upon the spread beneath would not divest him -of the dangerous illusion. The good doctor felt the blood mount to his -forehead in the shame of deep humiliation as he recognised in himself -this wandering of thought. - -What! could it be that one so habitually pure in feeling as he, could -permit the intrusion at such an hour of impure associations? Such -things were unknown to his life, so disinterested, so spotless, so -humane. What could it be that had caused such feelings to possess him -thus unusually? It could not be possible she was conscious of the -position in which her body was thrown. Was there some strange spell -about this woman—some mysterious power of sphere emanating from that -still form, that crept into his blood and brain with the evil glow of -these unnatural fires? - -The poor doctor shuddered as he turned aside from the bed, and, with -a soft step, glided to the window, and there seating himself, strove -to recover the command of his thoughts by distracting them with other -objects in the busy street. - -The good man was on grievous terms with himself, as he continued to -beat the devil’s tattoo on the window-sill with his heavy fingers. He -felt alarmed, nay, even guilty. He knew not why. We shall see! - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - THE SYREN AND THE MOB. - - And after all the raskal many ran, - Heaped together in rude rabblement. - SPENSER. - - What intricate impeach is this?— - I think you all have drunk of Circe’s cup! - SHAKSPEARE. - - -The woman continued, with calm, regular breathings, to sleep for -several hours. The dusk of evening had now closed in, and yet her -patient guardian sat silently watching her motionless figure. A long -and serene self-communion had gradually restored the excellent doctor -to his ordinary equanimity, and he now, with untiring vigilance, -awaited the changes that might supervene in the condition of the -patient. - -After all his thinking on the subject, he found himself now no -nearer comprehending the cause of the late unwonted disturbance of -his habitual serenity than at the beginning. He had dealt harshly -with himself, in endeavoring to account for it, and never dreamed of -reproaching the feeble and wretched being before him, as in any degree -the conscious agent of what he considered a weakness unpardonable in -himself. - -With the natural proclivity of generous souls towards the extremes, -he had, in the plenitude of his self-reproach, proceeded to exalt the -sleeping woman into an earth-visiting angel with wounded wings, the -spotless purity of which the breath of his darkened thought had soiled. -The poor, good-hearted doctor! - -The silence of the room was now broken by a low exclamation of fright, -accompanied by a slight movement of the patient. The doctor sprang -forward softly to the bedside. - -“Who?—what?—where am I? What has been happening?” asked the woman, -with an expression of bewilderment and alarm. - -“Nothing! nothing, my dear madam! I am here—you are safe—but you must -not talk.” - -“Where is he? is he gone?” she persisted in a wild, terrified manner. - -“Yes, he is gone. He shall not come back to disturb you again. You must -be quiet now, and get well. Please be calm, and trust in me.” - -“Trust in thee?” said the patient, in a voice which had instantly lost -its vague tone. “Trust in thee, thou minister of light, who hast come -to my darkened pillow, to my bloody death-bed, to console me!” and here -she clutched his hand. “Trust thee—I would trust thee as I trust God!” -and she pressed his hand to her heart. - -“You must be silent, madam,” urged the physician, endeavoring to -extricate his imprisoned hand, for he felt strange tinglings along his -veins, which alarmed his now penitent and vigilant spirit. She only -shook her head, and clung with yet greater tenacity to his hand, and -then, first raising it to her lips with a reverential kiss, she placed -it upon the top of her head, with the palm outstretched, and signified -her desire that he should keep it there, with a smile of entire -beatitude. The doctor barely knew enough of mesmeric manipulations, -to understand that this laying-on of hands was commonly resorted to -among the believers in the science, as a remedy for nervous headache. -He could see no harm in the innocent formula, if it assisted the -imagination in throwing off pain, and he very willingly humored his -poor patient, in permitting his hand to remain there. - -In a moment or two a singular change came over the face and general -physical expression of the woman, and the doctor, who had witnessed -something of mesmeric phenomena, instantly recognised this as clearly -presenting all the symptoms of such a case. He had mesmerised her by a -touch, and it was not without a thrill of vague wonder that he awaited -further developments. - -There was a perfect silence of ten minutes’ duration, when the -mesmerised patient began moving her lips as if in the effort to -articulate. The curiosity of the doctor was now fully aroused—his -_will_ became concentrated—he desired to hear her speak; in his -unconscious eagerness, he _willed_ that she should do so with all the -energy of his firm nature; and speak she did. - -“Happy! happy! Ah, I am content in this pure sphere! My soul can rest -here!” a long pause, then suddenly a shudder vibrated through her -frame, and she shrank back as one appalled by some spectral horror. - -“Ha! it is all dark now! I see! I see! his hand is red! red! red! red! -There is murder on this soul!” - -The doctor sprang up and back as if he had been shot. His face grew -livid pale, and he trembled in every joint, while with chattering teeth -he stammered— - -“Woman! Woman, how know you this?” - -“I see it there—that huge red hand! Now all is red! There! there! -I felt it must be so! The pale and golden light breaks through! It -spreads! It fills and covers everything! His heart did no murder—it was -his hand! He can be redeemed! This soul is pure!” - -The poor doctor sank upon his chair and groaned heavily, while he -covered his face with his hands. He spoke, in a few moments, in an -almost inaudible tone, to himself, while the woman, who had suddenly -opened her eyes, turned her head slightly, and watched him with a sharp -attention. - -“Alas! alas! how came this strange being in possession of the fatal -secret of my life? I believed it buried in the oblivion of thirty -years. My life of dedication to humanity, since, I thought might have -atoned for that quick sad deed! Yes! I struck him! O, my God—I struck -him! but the provocation was most fearful! Woman, who and what are -you, that you should know this thing?” and with a vehement gesture -he jerked his hands from before his eyes, and turning swiftly upon -her, he met the keen, still glance of those watchful eyes, which shone -through the subdued light of the room, steadily upon him. The doctor -was astounded! He sprang to his feet again, exclaiming angrily— - -“What shallow trick is this? You seemed but now in the mesmeric sleep, -and mouthed to me concerning my past life, and here you are, wide -awake! How came you with the secrets of my life?” - -The woman answered feebly, and with a sob that at once touched the -gentle-hearted doctor, and turned aside his wrath— - -“You took your hand away—you would not let me speak. Place your hand -upon my head again, and I will tell you all.” - -The troubled doctor re-seated himself with a shuddering reluctance, and -renewed the manipulation. - -In a few moments she appeared again to have sank into the sleep, and -commenced in that slow, fragmentary manner supposed to be peculiar to -such conditions: - -“I see! The dark shadow is on this soul again! It is of anger and -suspicion—they are both evil spirits! They strive to make it wrong the -innocent! It is too holy and pure to yield! I see the golden light -fill all again! The bloody hand is gone. No stain of crime remains -upon this soul. It will be pardoned of God. This soul needs only human -love. Through love it can be made free before God! All the past will -be forgiven then—the red stains will fade! A sudden anger made it sin. -Love can only intercede for this sin. Love will intercede! It will be -saved!” - -Here her voice became subdued into indistinct mutterings, and the -doctor drew a long breath as he withdrew his hand— - -“Singular woman! How could all this have been revealed to her? She -must commune with spirits in this state. My story is not known to any -here. I never saw or heard of her, until sent for as a physician, to -visit her in this house. Strange that this fearfully passionate and -repented deed should thus rise up in my path, thousands of miles away, -amidst strangers, who can know nothing of me! Oh, my God! my God! -Thou art indeed vengeful and just!” and the miserable man clasped his -hands before his eyes and moaned. “It was my first draught of love and -life. He dashed it! I was delirious in my joy, while the beams rained -from her eyes into my hungry soul—hungry of beauty and of bliss. He -dashed it all, and in the hot blood of my darkened madness I slew him! -Oh, I slew him! His shadow, that can never be appeased, though I have -given body, and soul, and substance, to relieving the sufferings of -my race since that unhappy hour—it rises here again! It haunts me! -Yes! yes! I feel that love alone can make me strong once more, to bear -such tortures! But have I not denied myself such dreams? Have I not -with dedicated heart walked humbly since in self-denying ways? Have I -not clothed the orphan, fed the poor and nursed the sick? Have I not -ministered amidst pestilence, and held my life as of none account that -I might bring good to others? Can I be forgiven? No! no! The Pharisee -recounts his holy deeds and thanks God that his life is not sinful as -another man! I am not to be forgiven! I shall never know those dreams -of love!” - -The strong man bowed his frame and shook with agony. Could he but have -looked up, a keen, quick gleam from the eyes which had been so steadily -fixed upon him during this painful soliloquy, would have struck him as -conveying the ecstacy of a sainted spirit over a soul repentant—or of -some other feeling quite as exultant. - -This curious scene was, however, most unexpectedly interrupted at this -moment, by a loud yelling from the street below. The clamor was so -sudden, and yet so angrily harsh, that both parties sprang forward in -the alarm it caused—the woman, springing up into a sitting posture on -the bed, and the doctor to go to the window. - -“What is it?” she exclaimed wildly, as she tossed back her hair. “What -do these cruel people want to do to me now?” - -The doctor, who saw at a glance the meaning of what was going on below, -and the necessity of keeping his patient cool, turned to her, with a -very quiet expression— - -“Do not be alarmed, madam. It is merely some disorderly gathering of -rowdies, in the street below. There is no danger to you—only do not get -excited, or you will bleed again. I am here to protect you.” - -“Then I am safe!” was the fervid response, which, however, was followed -by a roar so sullen and portentous, from the infuriated mob underneath, -as to leave some doubt of its truth even upon the mind of the doctor. - -“Down with the amalgamation den!” - -“Down with the saw-dust palace!” - -“Tear it down!” - -“Let’s lynch the wretches!” - -The response to speeches of this sort, from single voices, would be a -simultaneous burst of approbation from the great crowd, and a trampling -and rush to get nearer the building. It seemed a formidable sight, -indeed, to the doctor, as he looked down upon this living mass of men, -surging like huge waves tossed against some cliff, while the torches, -that many of them bore, glared fitfully upon the upturned, angry faces. - -A powerful voice, which rose above all the tumult, exclaimed with a -hoarse oath, as the speaker turned for an instant towards the crowd, -from the top of the front steps— - -“Let us burst open the door and lynch every white person found with a -negro. Here goes for the door!” and he threw himself furiously against -it, while a perfect thunder-crash of roars attested the approbation of -the dangerous mob. The door resisted for a moment, when there was a -sudden yell from the outside of the mob, nearly a square distant— - -“Here! here’s what’ll do it! pass ’em on!” and the alarmed doctor saw -immediately the portentous gleam of fire-axes, which were being passed -over the heads of the crowd towards the door, and in another instant -the crash of the cutting would commence. The doctor, as we have seen, -was a very prompt man. He thrust his head out of the window, and in a -loud, commanding voice, shouted— - -“Stop!” - -The man at the door, who had just received the axe, and was in the act -of wielding it, paused for an instant, to look up, while the whole sea -of faces was raised toward the window, amidst a moment’s silence, of -which the doctor instantly availed himself— - -“Gentlemen, do you war upon women? I have a female patient here, in -this room, at the point of death! If you proceed, you will kill her!” - -“Who is she?” shouted some one, while another voice, in a derisive -tone, yelled out amidst screams of laughter— - -“Is she Rose? Rose? de coal-brack Rose? I wish I may be shot if I don’t -lub Rose!” - -Amidst the thunders which followed, some one shouted from a distant -part of the mob, to the man with the axe— - -“Go on, Jim! It’s all pretence with their sick women!” - -“Down with the door—they don’t escape us that way! Look out for your -bones, old covey, when we catch you!” - -The axe was again swung back, but the doughty doctor still persisted— - -“Stop!” he shouted again, in a tone so startling for energy of command, -that the axe was again lowered. - -“Are you Americans? Have you mothers and sisters?” - -“Yes, but they ain’t black gals!” gibed one of the mob, and set the -rest into a roar once again. - -“I appeal to you as men—as brothers and fathers, do not murder my poor -patient!” - -“Who is that noisy fellow?” bellowed a brutal voice below. - -“I am a physician! I have nothing to do with this house or its -principles; I only beg to be permitted to save my patient!” - -“What is your name, I say?” bellowed the hoarse man again. “Out with -it! We’ll know you—some of us!” - -The name was mentioned. There was a momentary pause, and a low murmur -ran through the crowd; then shout after shout of applauding huzzas. - -“We know you!” - -“Just like him!” - -“Noble fellow!” - -“The good doctor! Huzza! huzza!” - -And so the cry went up on all sides, for the doctor’s reputation for -benevolence was as wide as that of John Jacob Astor for the opposite -trait. - -There seemed to be a vehement consultation among what appeared the -leaders of the mob, which lasted but for a moment or two, when one who -stood upon the top step looked up, and in a firm, respectful voice, -said to the doctor— - -“It’s all right, sir, about you! We shall let the women pass out! But -you must clear the house of them!” - -“But it is dangerous to move my patient.” - -“We cannot help that, doctor; we do this for your sake, not theirs, for -they ought every one of them to be burned, and we are determined to -abate the nuisance of this house. So hurry them along here quick, for -the boys will not keep quiet long.” - -“Yes, hurry them women along; we’ll let them go this time.” - -“All but that lecturing _lady_ (?), who says that she would as soon -marry a negro as a white man!” - -“Yes, all but her; we want to be rid of such creatures; let’s duck her -in the Hudson.” - -“No, boys, we will make no distinction. We have promised—let the woman -go.” - -“Down with the lecturing women and their black lovers!” - -“Duck the hag! we’ll wash off the scent for her!” - -Cries such as these convinced the doctor that indeed no time was to be -lost, particularly as the sound of the axe was now heard below in good -earnest. Approaching the bed hastily, he took the shivering form of -the panic-stricken woman, who had heard distinctly these last ominous -cries, into his arms. She clutched him with a desperate grip, while he -hurried down the stairs. - -On the way, he met the Spiritual Professor in the passage, surrounded -by the women of the house, who were clustered about him, in the -seemingly vain hope of obtaining from him something of that ethereal -consolation and strength, of which he was the so much vaunted -Professor. Indeed, he himself now seemed the most woful, of all the -whimpering, terrified group, in want of any kind of strength, whether -spiritual or otherwise; and his teeth literally chattered, as he -clutched at the doctor’s passing arm. - -“Wh—wh—what shall we do? They mean to burn the house, don’t they?” - -“Do?” said the doctor, sternly, shaking off his grasp. “Try and be a -man, if you’ve got it in you! Get these women out of the house, and -take yourself off on your spiritual legs as fast as you can, or you may -make some ugly acquaintances.” - -The Professor still clung to his skirts. - -“Oh Lord! the doctrine of correspondences does not sanction—” - -“Go to the devil, with your correspondence, or I shall kick you out of -my path!” roared the angry doctor, while the snivelling Professor, more -alarmed than ever, slunk aside to let him pass. The crash and clatter -from below now announced that the mob had effected an entrance from the -street, and leaving the women, all screaming at the top of their lungs, -around their doughty spiritual guide, he rushed on with his burden -towards the front entrance, which had thus been taken by storm, and was -now rapidly filling with excited men. Some were seizing the furniture, -which they began to demolish, while others hurried forward to intercept -him. - -“It is the sick woman. Remember your promise; let me pass.” - -“Yes, that’s the good doctor; let him pass, boys.” - -“No, not yet!” roared a burly-looking ruffian, pressing through the -throng. “We must see who it is he has got there. Who is she?” and he -roughly dragged aside the shawl that partially covered her face. - -“Monster!” shouted the excited doctor, “the woman is dying! Make way! -Let me pass!” - -“Not so fast!” said the ruffian, resisting his forward rush. “I -shall see! I shall see! Boys, here she is! By G—d, this is she, that -lecture-woman; she wants to marry a nigger, hah! We won’t let her go.” - -“But you will!” said the doctor, releasing one arm, with which he -struck the ruffian directly in the mouth, and with a force that sent -him reeling backwards. - -“Good! good!” shouted twenty voices; “served him right, doctor.” - -The fellow had rallied instantly, and was rushing, like a wild bull, -headlong upon the doctor, when several powerful men threw themselves -between the two, seizing the ruffian at the same time. - -“No, Jim, you stand back!” said one of them, brandishing a heavy axe -before his eyes. “You touch that gentleman again, and I’ll brain you!” - -“It’s a shame!” interposed others. “It’s the good doctor who nurses the -poor for nothing. Doubt if he gets a cent for that creature.” - -“Yes, if she was the devil’s dam herself, we promised the good man to -let her go. Stand back, boys, and let the doctor pass.” - -An opening was accordingly formed, through which the doctor hastened to -make his way. When he made his appearance at the door, he was greeted -with three wild, hearty cheers for himself, and as many groans and -hisses for the character of the woman whom he bore, the news of the -identification of whom had instantly found its way to the outside. - -Regardless of all this, and only congratulating himself upon the -prospect of getting his patient off alive, he pressed rapidly through -the crowd, with the purpose of bearing her to the shelter of his own -bachelor home. - -The mob now instantly occupied the building, which was gutted by them, -and the shattered contents, along with its occupants, men and women, -roughly hurled into the street. Some of the former were very severely -handled, and among the rest, the Spiritual Professor had his share of -_material_ chastening. The mob found him under a cot-bed, with three -or four feminine disciples of his spiritual correspondences piled over -him, or clinging distractedly to his nerveless limbs. - -They dragged him out by the heels, with his squalling cortege trailing -after him, and finding that the occult professor of spiritualities had -gone into a state of obliviousness, or rather fainted, they proceeded, -in their solicitude for his recovery, to deluge his person with sundry -convenient slops, which shall be nameless, and afterwards kicked him -headlong into the street below, where the screaming boys pelted him -with gutter-mud and rotten eggs, until, finding his _spiritual_ legs, -as he had been advised—it is to be supposed—of a sudden, he made -himself scarce, down Barclay Street, in an inappreciable twinkle. - -In a word, the people, in this instance, as in many others, when they -have found it necessary to take the laws of decency and common sense -into their own sovereign hands, did the work of ridding themselves -of this most detestable nuisance effectually. The Graham House was -broken up, and although the pestilent nest of knaves and fools who most -delighted there to congregate, have endeavored, in subsequent years, -to reassemble, and renew the ancient character of the place as their -head-quarters, yet the attempt has only been attended with partial -success. - -The blow was too decisive on this night; for, although the walls were -left standing, the proprietor was given clearly to understand, that the -unnatural orgies of amalgamation would not be tolerated again by the -community, under the decisive penalty of no one stone left standing -upon the other, of the building. - -He took the hint, and it was about time! It has been fairly conjectured -by this time, from the glimpses we have taken of the interior, that the -house was the scene of other vices than those implied in amalgamation -merely. It will be seen in yet other words and years how much there was -of real danger to the well-being of society, in the doctrines taught -and practised within its unhallowed walls. No one lesson could ever -prove sufficient for these people; they enjoy a fatal impunity even -now, and we shall endeavor that men shall know them as they are! - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - BOANERGES PHOSPHER, THE SPIRITUAL PROFESSOR. - - He strikes no coin, ’tis true, but coins new phrases, - And vends them forth as knaves vend gilded counters, - Which wise men scorn, and fools accept in payment. - SHAKESPEARE. - - None of these rogues and cowards, but Ajax is their fool! - _Idem._ - -That the world has dealt hardly by its heroes, is a truism we need -not insist upon at this late day. But whether the world knows who its -heroes are, is another question, and one more open to controversy. Now -I insist that the world does not know, or else Boanerges Phospher, the -Spiritual Professor, would long since have been stoned and persecuted -into one of the holy company of saints and martyrs! - -There are several kinds of heroism heretofore known among men. There -is the fierce, aggressive heroism of the soldier and conqueror—there -is the “glib and oily” heroism of the politician—the calm, enduring -heroism of the saint—the lofty, death-defying heroism of the patriot; -but it remains for modern times to record the brazen heroism of -impudence. Impudence, too, has its grades and degrees—its ancient types -and its more modern ones—but as they all veil their brassy splendors, -merging their separate rays in the central effulgence of our spiritual -Colossus, we shall waive their particular enumeration in favor of the -individualised impersonation of them all. - -Ah, verily—and this is he!—our Spiritual Professor! Born -in Yankee-land, of course, the earliest feat of Boanerges -Phospher—literally, according to his own account of it—was to pry up a -huge stone upon one of the sterile paternal acres: for what purpose, -would you suppose? To place his feet upon the soil beneath, because the -foot of no other man could have pressed it! - -A laudable ambition, truly, but one which, somehow, unluckily, suggests -that - - “Fools may walk where angels fear to tread!” - -It was a necessary sequence to the career of this modern Columbus -of untrodden discovery, that we find his “first appearance upon any -stage” to have been, while so pitiably ignorant as to be barely able -to read his own language by spelling the words, and write his own name -execrably, as PROFESSOR OF ELOCUTION! - -Admirable! admirable! Why make two bites of a cherry? Why not step at -once where no foot of _such_ man ever trod before? - -Shade of Blair! Look ye not askance at this daring intruder upon your -classic company! He intends you no harm; he only means to re-fuse his -brass back into copper s! - -In lecturing on Elocution, our _Professor_, of necessity, gradually -learned to read—with fluency, we mean—that is, he could “talk right -eout,” like the head boy in a class, though it was in a nasal -sing-song, more remarkable for its pietistic intonation than its -rhythm. This was, no doubt, in a great measure owing to the facility -of whining he had acquired, in his more juvenile experience, as a -preacher of some three or four different _liberal_ sects. We class -these as mere experiments, as purely preliminary trials of strength, -before he entered the true arena of his professorship. - -The professorship, to be sure, was self-instituted—self-ordained—and -why not self-asserted? There were professors of hair-invigorating -oils, professors of dancing, professors of rat-catching, professors of -hair-eradication, professors of cough-candy, professors of commercial -book-keeping and running-hand writing, professors of flea-powder and -bug-extermination—and why not a professor of elocution? The very -gutter-mud germinates professors in this free country! They grow like -fungi out of wallowing reptiles’ heads; and who need be surprised, in -America, at receiving the card of his boot-black, inscribed Professor -Brush; his chimney-sweep, Professor Soot; or be appalled by the bloody -apparition of a missive from his butcher, emblazoned, “Professor -Keyser, Killer!” - -No disrespect, mark you, is intended to be either understood or -implied, for the gentlemen of the various professions above enumerated, -for they are all respectable in their way, and to be respected, outside -of their professorships. But that is rather a serious name, as we -understand it—one that the world has been accustomed to look up to with -veneration—proportioned, until these “modern instances,” to the vast -and profound learning which had made it, in the old world, the synonyme -of almost patriarchal inspiration—the grand, firm, and stable bulwark -of human progress, and its lofty future; of infinite science, and its -clear, glorious myths! - -This thing of learning seems so easy, that your starveling Yankee -perceives no difficulties in the way, and glides into its penetralia -“like a book,”—only that he never reads it! He is at once at home in -all topography, as much as if he were in Kamtschatka, or the “Tropic -Isles.” Furred cloaks or breadfruit leaves are all the same to him; -he was born knowing, and of course could not do less than know a -great deal more about Kamtschatka and the “Tropic Isles” than their -furred and fig-leaved denizens. Brass is the Yankee’s capital, and no -wonder they made the great discoveries of copper on Lake Superior, -so extensively patronised by New-light sages. It is the offset to -California gold; for, while one promises an infinite supply of the -substantial basis of commerce and all trade, the other promises to -furnish, in perpetuity, the crude material of impudence. - -We mean no insinuation in regard to the Spiritual Professor, however -much he may have had to do, by “spherical influence,” in precipitating -the discovery of this great mine of the metal so much in favor with -the sages above mentioned—and the remainder of the sect to which the -Professor belonged—the motto of which is, that, “Out of the mouths of -babes and sucklings shall ye be confounded.” Yet we can freely venture -to assert, that he had no connection whatever with those unfortunate -commercial results, which, in the first place, nearly, if not entirely, -swamped the great Patron of the enterprise. The mind of our Professor -was necessarily not of that vast reach and generalising comprehension, -which could lead to the Behemoth stride and wizard calculation of -results, which had enabled his master thus confidently to speculate in -so subtle a material. - -The operations of our Professor were essentially minified; that is, -their sphere and scope had been particularly narrow. He was heroic -enough, Heaven knows; but then his heroism was of that dashing -character which only required a patron to illustrate and make it known. - -Having published a book upon this occult (in his hands) science of -elocution, which was, of course, written for him by another party, he -suddenly felt himself inspired with a new inspiration. - -He had already taught men how to talk, and it now became necessary, -and indeed spiritually incumbent upon him, to teach them how to live. -He accordingly announced himself, forthwith, as Revelator-in-Chief of -the spiritual mysteries of the universe. Every reader will probably -remember those flaming programmes of lectures which appeared, by the -half column, in a New York paper, for a long period, daily, between -’43 and ’45. Mendacious impudence never vaulted higher! Our Spiritual -Professor was in his glory now. - -An illustrious man lived once in Sweden. He was humble, pure and firm. -His astonishing works on scientific subjects left the mind of his -period far behind him, utterly confounded by his direct and stringent -elucidation of the most subtle of the purely physical laws. It seemed -a miracle to them; they found their professional accuracy so far -surpassed, that they durst not do more than wonder. Work after work -of this amazing intellect came forth, dressed in a language, while -handling such themes, common to the world of science. - -Then came a sudden change, and this vast mind, which heretofore had -dealt in simple _demonstration_ with mankind, threw down its compass -and its squares, and, in the language of humility, proclaimed itself -a Medium. The God of Jacob and humanity had revealed himself to him, -not in the burning bush of mystery, but in the lustrous quiet of a -calm repose. He had talked scientific truth before, but now he spoke -of spiritual things—a chosen Medium between God and man! His theme was -far beyond all science. We have nothing to do with his wide postulate; -his name was too sublime and venerable among the patriarchs of mankind, -for me to speak of it otherwise in this connection, than in disgust -and loathing of the profanation to which it has been subjected, in our -country, by monkeyish and parrot-tongued ignoramuses. - -Our learned and sagacious Professor of Elocution, happening to stumble -upon some of the earlier translations of the works of Swedenborg, -seized upon them with great avidity, and, as he had now learned to read -without spelling the words out loud, he managed to get them by heart -with most surprising facility, and, to the astonishment of Jew and -Gentile, suddenly proclaimed himself an apostle of the new church. - -To be sure, when one considers this undertaking in the abstract, it -was rather a serious one; one indeed that would have appalled most -men, as the works of Swedenborg really consisted of some forty-odd -huge volumes, written in Latin, not a line of which the Professor -could translate; and the hand-books he had fallen upon were merely -translations of introductory compends. What though the field was -one of the most prodigious in human learning—what though the themes -were the highest that could occupy mortal contemplation—what though -the patient diligence of an ordinary lifetime would scarce suffice -intelligent persons for the studious comprehension of the truths taught -by this wonderful man? it was all the same to the Professor; and, -indeed, instead of being discouraged, he was rather encouraged, by the -magnitude of the undertaking! An exponent of Swedenborg! Well, why not? -He could spell words in three syllables! - -Big with the prodigious discovery of his own capabilities and the new -mine of doctrinal science, the learned Professor rushed precipitately -into the ever-extended arms of his Patron saint, the nourisher and -cherisher of empirics and empiricism. And why should he not be so, -forsooth? It was _cheap_, not “too much learning,” that had made _him_ -“mad” as well! _He_ too had found it to his account to scorn the -decencies of a thorough education, and from a printer’s devil, with -a mind that had fed upon scraps and paragraphs, had doggedly risen, -through the help of the familiar demon of labor, which possessed him, -into this position of Patron to all new-comers—provided they bore -“new-lights” and _coppers_! - -It mattered little to this self-constituted and unscrupulous dignitary -whether the theme was new to the world, or only to himself; the latter -was most likely to be the case with one who had probably never read -a dozen books consecutively through in his life, and who, from gross -physique, dress, habits, and mental idiosyncrasies, was necessarily -incapacitated for comprehending the fine and subtle relations of truth; -who, even with the sovereign aid of the new-light Panacea, bran-bread, -had seemed to be capable of digesting but a fragment of truth at a -time, and that fragment, too, gobbled without the slightest regard for -its relations to other truths. - -Here was a happy appreciation with a vengeance!—was it knave of fool, -or fool of knave—which? The question is interesting! At all events, -the results were the same, so far as the public were concerned. It -was forthwith announced that the Patron Saint, like some patient -and watchful astronomer, sweeping the blue abyss of heaven with -ever-constant glass, had suddenly discovered a new luminary—it -certainly had a fiery tail, but whether it was going to prove a genuine -comet or not, let the following announcement bear witness: - -“Professor Boanerges Phospher lectures to-night in the Tabernacle, -which it is thought may possibly contain some small portion, at least, -of the enormous crowd which will of course assemble to hear his -profound and luminous exposition of the mysteries of the universe. The -doctrine of correspondences, as propounded by the learned Professor, -reveals the true solution of all problems which affect the relations -of mankind to the spiritual world. Indeed, his enormous research -and unappreciable profundity have at length enabled him to _solve -the problem of the universe_, which he, with the most luminous -demonstration, will educate even the infant mind to comprehend with -sufficient clearness, in five easy lessons, or lectures on every other -night, at one dollar each. The whole subject of man, in his eternal -relations to God, to the spiritual world, and to the earth, will be -mathematically expounded to the full comprehension of all.” - -Here follows the programme: - -“Professor Boanerges Phospher undertakes to show in the lecture of -to-night, That in the universe there are these three things: end, -cause, and effect; that infinite things in the infinite are one; that -they constitute a triune existence—they are three in one; that the -universe is a work cohering from firsts to lasts. - -“That _Good_ is from a twofold origin, and thence adscititious. That -celestial good is good in essence, and spiritual good is good in form. -That the good of the inmost Heaven is called celestial; of the middle -Heaven, spiritual; and of the ultimate Heaven, spiritual, natural. That -good is called lord, and truth servant, before they are conjoined, but -afterwards they are called brethren. That he who is good is in the -faculty of seeing truth, which flows from general truths, and this in -a continual series. That good is actually spiritual fire, from which -spiritual heat, which makes alone, is derived. - -“That all _Evil_ has its rise from the sensual principle, and also from -the scientific. There is an evil derived from the false, and a false -from evil. - -“That gold sig. the good of love. When twice mentioned, sig. the good -of love, and the good of faith originating in love. - -“That influx from the Lord is through the internal into the external. -Spiritual influx is founded on the nature of things, which is spirit -acting on matter. - -“That physical influx, or natural, originates from the fallacy of the -senses that the body acts on spirit. - -“That harmonious influx is founded on a false conclusion, viz.: that -the soul acts jointly and at the same instant with the body. That there -is a common influx; and this influx passes into the life of animals, -and also into the subjects of the vegetable kingdom. That influx passes -from the Lord to man through the forehead—for the forehead corresponds -to love, and the face to the interior of the mind.” - -To be followed by questions in the correspondences by any of -the audience who may choose to ask them, such as, To what does -“horse” correspond?—To what does “table,” “chair,” or “soap-stone” -correspond?—To what does “hog,” “goose,” “butter-milk,” or “jackass” -correspond? &c., &c. To all of which questions the learned lecturer -will give edifying answers from the stand. Admittance, one -dollar—Children, half-price. - -This is a long programme, to be sure, and somewhat overwhelming to -we common people, who have been in the habit of regarding certain -subjects with the profoundest veneration, and our modest and capable -teachers with reverence. But the very length of this programme, and -the enormous stretch of the themes, only go, I suppose, to illustrate -the hardihood of our “admirable Crichton,” the professor of the -occult—and the genial and the generous—to call it by its lightest -name—gullibility, of his gaping audience. - -Forth went these flaming announcements day by day, on thousand -hot-pressed sheets, until New York became all agog, and the great mass -conceived that they had found a new prophet. All its spectacled and -thin-bearded women forthwith were in arms; the Professor wore his hair -behind his ears, and, of course, was the soft and honey-sucking seraph -of their dreams. - -He could be indeed nothing short of seraphim-revealed, for he -discoursed with them in winning tones of mists and mysteries. He -told them bald tales of angels with whom he had been on terms of -intimacy; for he sagaciously kept his master, Swedenborg, mainly in the -background throughout. - -Representing himself as the individual recipient of these revelations, -from the spherical ladies who wear wings, and who are habitually -designated as angels by both the sexes, on our little clod of earth, -our champion became, of course, the hero of all such semi-whiskered -maidens or matrons, who, though essentially “pard-like spirits,” were -yet, to reverse the words of Shelley, more “swift,” alias “fast,” -than “beautiful!” It is, of course, to be comprehended that beauty -is comparative as well as wit, and we would no more be understood -as insinuating that these thinly-hirsute virgins and dames, who at -once constituted the principal audience of the mighty Professor, were -themselves in any degree deficient in sympathy either with the man and -his profound doctrines, or the man _per se_, than that we would assert -they understood one word of what he mouthed to them, with his hair -behind his ears. - -Boanerges Phospher, the Spiritual Professor, was successful, and never -was there anything so professionally brilliant as the crowded houses -that he nightly drew. The immense Tabernacle seemed a mere nut-shell; -he could have filled half-a-dozen such houses nightly. The mob had -grown excited by the novelty. The paper of the Patron Saint, at so many -pennies a line, day by day, continued to prostitute its columns to this -vulgar trap of silly servant-maids and profound clerks. - -The Professor’s lectures were attended by countless swarms of inquirers -after truth, who, as they were willing to accept a spoken for a written -language of which they knew nothing, permitted him to stumble through -propositions, which, in themselves, were so ridiculously absurd as -even to disarm contempt in the wise, and make denunciation harmless as -superfluous. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - BOANERGES AND THE YOUNG MATHEMATICIAN. - - Famine is in thy cheeks, - Need and oppression stareth in thy eyes, - Upon thy back hangs ragged misery. - SHAKSPEARE. - - There’s no more - Mercy in him than there’s milk in the male tiger. - _Idem._ - - -The bowels of Boanerges Phospher, the Spiritual Professor, were -possessed of such extraordinary capacity for yearning over the fallen -and lost condition of his brothers of mankind, that, not content -with saving them by wholesale, and nightly, in those marvellously -spiritualized lectures, his indomitable energies took up the trade of -“_saving_” men individually and by detail. - -This, let it be understood, was done between times, by way of -recreation, just to keep his hand in. Let us follow him on one of these -errands of mercy. - -In a poor garret of Ann Street, New York, might have been seen, about -these days, a young man, seated in a rickety chair, beside a dirty pine -table, which was plentifully strewn with manuscripts covered with many -a tedious column of figures and mysterious-looking diagrams. - -You saw at once, from the disproportionate size of the broad, white, -bulging brow, which brooded heavily over large mournful eyes, and -thin, emaciated features, that he was a mathematician; possessing -one of those precocious and enormous developments of the organs of -calculation, which are so apt, when not diverted by other occupations -and excitements, to consume rapidly the feeble fuel of life in their -consecrated fires. - -A wretched cot-bed occupied one corner of the room, which was likewise -strewn with papers and books on mathematical subjects, while on the -mantel lay scattered little heaps of dried cheese and crusts, which -seemed so hardened, that no tooth of predatory mouse had left its mark -thereon. - -The young man was dressed in entire conformity with the miserable -appearance of the room. His thin and silky hair hung in lank, clammy -locks about his shockingly pallid features, as he leaned forward on his -elbow, his forehead resting heavily on his thin hand, as he pored over -the papers before him. - -“Ah me,” muttered he, “this horrid poverty!” and he threw down his pen -and sank back with a faint, despairing movement. - -“My brain is giddy with this dizzy round of figures, figures. My weary -calculation is nearly done, but my over-tasked brain sickens. Ah, but -for just one good meal, to strengthen me for a few hours, and I could -finish it—finish my glorious work!” - -At this moment a rapid step was heard ascending the creaking stairs; -the door flew open rudely, and, without any announcement, the Spiritual -Professor, with his hair all nice behind his ears, came bustling -forward toward the table, beside the fainting young student. Rubbing -his hands at the same time in prodigious glee of anticipation, he -exclaimed— - -“Ha! my son! my spiritual child! how is it with you? Have you finished? -Is it done?” - -The poor student shook his head slightly, and muttered feebly— - -“No, no; I cannot finish it.” - -The eager face of the Professor turned suddenly very blank and very -white at the same time, as, straightening himself, he stammered out— - -“Wh-what! c-cannot finish it! You _must_ finish it! you _shall_ finish -it!” and then continuing with greater vehemence, without apparently -noticing that the weary head of the poor being before him was slowly -drooping yet lower— - -“Here’s a pretty business, to be sure! This is the reward I am to get -for all I have done for you—for all my efforts to advance you in the -world—for all the heavy expenses I have incurred in bringing you on -from Cincinnati, and supporting you here! The evil spirits must have -re-entered the boy! Have I not striven for these six months faithfully, -with all my spiritual strength, to drive them forth, that I might -_save_ him? The boy must be born again—he must be regenerated once -more. _Cannot_ finish it! He must be chastened, to rebuke this evil -spirit in him; he must be reduced to bread and water. I must recall -my liberal allowance for his food; he has been living too high. The -evil demon has probably entered him through a meal of fat pork!” and -the spiritually outraged Professor sniffed with an indignant and eager -sniffle, that he might detect the presence of the forbidden food. - -The poor youth, in the mean time, had been slowly sliding from his -chair, and, as the Professor turned aside with the air of an injured -cherub, the body lost its balance, and the fainting youth fell to the -floor. - -“Ha! what now?” shouted our cherub with the hair behind his ears, -springing into the air with a nervous agility, as if he in reality -wore wings. He placed himself on the opposite side of the room in a -twinkling, and then turning his face, ghastly with fright, exclaimed, -“I thought the house was coming down!” and seeing the prostrate body, -he walked around it as cautiously as a cat crouches, and, with a -stealthy inspection, peered into the half-open eyelids, at the upturned -eyes, but without touching the body. - -“Wh-why, the fellow’s gone and died! There goes my great speculation!” -and springing back suddenly, he rushed towards the table, and seizing -convulsively the papers, ran his eye eagerly over them, while his -hands trembled violently; and his lips turned as ashy blue as those -of the poor victim at his feet, while, with an expression of despair, -too unutterable for words to paint, he groaned out in frantic -exclamations—“No, no, no, it is not finished; nobody else can do it -but him! I’m ruined! I’m ruined! Oh, my money’s gone—my money’s gone! -To think that he should die, after all I’ve done for him—after all my -liberality! O! O! O! booh! booh! hoo!” - -At this melting crisis, a slight noise caused him to turn his head; the -apparent corpse was drawing up one foot, and making some other feeble -movements, which showed that life was not entirely extinct. - -At this sight the eyes of Boanerges flew open as wide, in a stare of -ecstacy, as they had before been stretched in horror, until their -suffusion “with the briny,” as Mr. Richard Swiveller would say, had -caused them to momentarily wink. - -“Why, he ain’t dead yet! my speculation is safe. Some water! Where’s -some water? Get some water!” and he ran peering and dodging around the -room with an uncertain air, as if the new influx of joy had bewildered -his seraphic mind. After some little delay he found the pitcher, which -had been standing all the time in full view, within three feet of him; -he wildly dashed more than half the contents into the face of the -victim, who instantly drew a long sobbing breath, and in a moment or -two opened his eyes. - -This so increased the ecstacy of the Professor, that he now ventured to -kneel beside him, and, in his eagerness, forgetting to use the tumbler -that was standing near, he nearly crushed the poor student’s teeth down -his throat, in his awkward endeavors to administer drink to him from -the heavy pitcher—exclaiming, during the process, “Drink! drink! my -son. Don’t die, for Heaven’s sake! Remember my liberality—my generous -sacrifices to advance you in the world. Remember our almanac—your great -work, that is to make your fortune. Remember how you have been saved!” - -“Starved, you mean,” feebly whispered the young man, whom a few -draughts of the precious fluid had rapidly revived. - -“St-a-a-r-r-ved! does he say?” yelled Boanerges, shrinking back as if -horrified, and nearly dropping the body he was supporting from his -arms. Then, suddenly releasing one arm, he smoothed back his hair -gently; that radiant, angelic expression of sweet humility, for which -it was so famous among the female part of his select and nightly -audiences, overcame his face as with a halo, and leaning down, so as to -look into the eyes of his victim, he asked, in a liquid voice, “My son, -have I—have I—thy spiritual father, starved thee?” and then tenderly -he gazed into his eyes. With a look of assured self-satisfaction that -those siren tones had done the business, he silently awaited the -answer to the gentle and rebukeful question. But no answer came to the -sweet, lingering look; the young man only closed his eyes heavily, and -shuddered. - -“My son, my son!” continued the Professor, in yet more grieved and -meek, and dulcet tones. “My spiritual son, have I starved thee? have I -not been generous to a fault, and even to wronging the beloved child -of my own loins? This room, these writing materials, this tumbler, -this pitcher, that delightful bed, are they not all my free-will gifts -to thee for thy own advancement, to enable thee to glorify God in thy -works? Have I not rather saved thee from starving? You had nothing -when I took you up, to patronise your genius, and bring you before the -world; and now you have plenty! See, see, your mantel is even now -crowded with bread and cheese, that you are wasting here in the midst -of such superlative abundance.” - -The young man, at the mention of the bread and cheese, turned his head -aside with an expression of bitter loathing and disgust. - -“Pah!” he muttered; “the very name of it makes me sick; I have tasted -nothing else for the last six months. That is what is killing me; my -stomach can retain it no longer! Who can keep body and soul together on -thirty cents a week?” - -“Horror!” exclaimed the Professor, rolling up his eyes meekly. “To -think of such frantic extravagance! And besides, my son, your spiritual -strength should have sustained you—the success of your great work, the -prospect of future glory! A _man_ starve on bread and cheese! Why, who -ever heard of such a thing? Why, when I was a boy of ten years of age, -I started alone, on foot, to cross the Alleghanies, to make my way to -the North to school. My father had moved West when I was very young. I -started with only one loaf of white bread in my bundle, when the whole -country was wild and full of bears and wolves. The wolves chased me, -and I climbed a tree; they surrounded it, barking and gnashing their -teeth, to get at me; there were five hundred wolves at least, but I in -my faith kept my strength, and remained cool as Daniel in the lion’s -den, until at last they kept me there so long, I fell asleep, when the -limb broke, and I fell down into the midst of them; the wolves were so -frightened, that they all took to their heels and ran away, leaving me -safe. _There_ is a specimen of the spiritual strength that faith gives, -and should encourage you never to give up and faint by the way. Had -you possessed more of such faith, my son, you would never have been -stretched here, upon this floor, in such a condition, and talking about -starving on bread and cheese. It is the soul, my son, the regenerate -soul, that sustains the heroic man on earth, as I have so often -endeavored to teach you.” - -“Yes,” groaned the poor youth, with a gesture of impatience. “The body -must live too, and life cannot be sustained so long upon unvaried food.” - -“Listen, my son!” said the patient saint at his head—“listen, and -you shall hear what I accomplished on that single loaf of bread. I -travelled on with my little bundle on my shoulder, containing the -home-spun suit I was to wear when I arrived at school, and my loaf -of bread. I travelled on till my clothes were all worn out, and my -shoes full of holes, and my feet were so sore and swollen that I was -afraid to pull off my shoes, for fear I should not be able to get them -on again. So I waded across all the brooks and mountain streams with -my clothes on, until, at last, one afternoon, when high up in the -mountains, my strength gave out, and I laid me down in the howling -wilderness, thinking I must die. The weather was very cold, and my -clothes, all wet from crossing the streams, were freezing, and the -dreaded sleepiness was coming over me, when a good widow woman, who -lived with her children on the mountains, and was out gathering wood, -accidentally found me. She took me up in her arms, and carried me -to her hut, and laid me on her bed, where I slept all night. In the -morning, when I opened my eyes, I saw her breaking the hot Indian-corn -bread, and giving it to her children. I told her if she would give me -some of her corn bread, I would divide my loaf of white bread with her -and her children. She eagerly accepted the offer, for such a luxury -as white bread had been long unknown to them, and that was my first -speculation! While they ravenously devoured my loaf, I feasted upon her -rich hot bread. My soul overflowed with delight as I witnessed their -intense enjoyment of the meal I had been thus instrumental in bringing -them, and I felt as if the Lord had thus enabled me to fully repay them -for their kindness. I rose to depart, and the good woman, filling my -bundle with a large piece of her hot bread, sent me, with her blessing, -on my way rejoicing. Thus, you see, my dear son, how, through the -spiritual strength which faith imparts, and which you so much need, -I was enabled to cross the Alleghany mountains alone, at ten years of -age, with nothing but my loaf of white bread, and without so much as a -bit of cheese, or a cent in my pocket, and attained to the great goal -of my ambition, the school; and from whence, by the aid of selling -an occasional button from my jacket, I have been able to rise to my -present position as professor and patron of struggling genius.”[2] - -“Ah!” said the young man, “words, words! Give me to eat—I am starving!” -and his head sank back once more. - -The Professor again deluged him with water, and, profoundly surprised -and alarmed that the honeyed eloquence of his sagacious narrative had -proved unavailing in convincing his victim that he could and ought to -live upon faith, came to the desperate resolution of being guilty of -the extravagance, for once, of a _small_ bowl of soup to resuscitate -his victim, and depositing his head upon some books, though the pillow -was equally convenient, he hurried off to the nearest eating-house, -with his hands upon his pockets, which were overflowing with gold, as -he was then in the meridian height of his prosperity. - - * * * * * - -The sequel to this particular story is a short one. The young man -revived with the change of a single nutritious meal, and with it -returned the courage of even the trodden worm; for he now stoutly told -the Spiritual Professor that, unless he furnished him with ample means -to support life, he would not touch an another figure of the immense -and complicated calculations on which he had been so long engaged. - - [2] Incredible as it may seem, we pledge our personal veracity that - this bald and silly narration, which appears to be merely a foolish - burlesque, is a _bona fide_, _et literatim_, _et punctuatim_, - transcript, as close as it is possible for memory to furnish, of - stories that were, at least as often as five days out of the seven, - related at the dinner-table at which Boanerges presided, to long - double lines of gaping women, who, obedient to the irresistible - spell he bore, had followed up this maudlin Proteus of Professors, - as disciples of water-cure, through his latest metamorphoses, into - physician of such an establishment in Boston. It was _thus_ he - exhorted them to faith, and encouraged his backsliders. - -The Professor, of course, resisted to the last, and quoted the -correspondences upon him, with desperate fluency. But when the young -man coolly seized the manuscript on the table before him, and held it -over the flickering flame of the miserable dip candle, which had now -been of necessity lighted, the Professor sprang forward to arrest his -hand, shrieking— - -“I will! I will! for God’s sake, stop!—how much do you want?” - -“Five dollars a week!” was the cold response, as the flame caught the -edges of the paper. - -“I’ll give it! I’ll give it! What fearful extravagance! My God! put it -out!” - -“Pay me five dollars at once,” said the other. - -“Here it is—here it is!” and he jerked, in his excitement, from his -pocket, a dozen gold-pieces of that value, and dashed them upon the -table. - -“Take your five dollars! put it out!” - -The young man quietly swept the pieces within his reach into a drawer, -which he at the same moment opened; and, extinguishing the margin of -the manuscript, which had burned slowly from its thickness, he replied -deliberately to the Professor, who had shrieked out— - -“Do you mean to rob me?” - -“No, sir! but I mean to keep this money, and if you approach me, I -shall destroy this manuscript if it cost me my life. You have starved -and outraged me long enough; you expect to make a fortune off my -labors, and kill me with famine just as my work is done. But with all -my humility, abstraction and patience, this is too much! I am roused at -last, in self-defence, and you shall find it so!” - -The Professor sank into a chair as if fainting, and for some moments -continued to mutter, with more than the magnanimity of a sick kitten— - -“To think! Robbed! All my generosity! The ruffian! Here, to my very -face! What have I gained by saving him?” - -This last expression was gasped out, as if the vital breath of the -speaker was passing in the final spasm. - -The scene need not be prolonged. The valorous Professor crept away, -cowed beneath the cold, firm, lustrous eye of the now aggressive -victim, whose enthusiasm for science and earnest self-dedication, had -heretofore kept him blinded to a full realisation of all the monstrous -iniquity which had so long been practised upon his abstracted, meek, -and uncomplaining nature. He now determined to take his life into his -own hands, and saw clearly through all the shallow and ridiculous -pretence of patronage and “saving,” by which his single-hearted fervor -had been beguiled. - -In a few days it was announced to the Professor, whose faith and -spiritual strength—the same that had scared off the wolves when he fell -among them—had in the interval been restored to their equilibrium, that -the great work was now completed, and the announcement was accompanied -by a proposition on the part of the young mathematician to sell out -to him entire his copyright share in the whole enterprise, at a price -so comparatively insignificant, when the Professor’s own florid -anticipations of future results were considered, that he sprang at the -offer eagerly, and thus possessed himself at once of the “golden goose.” - -The young mathematician disappeared, and the Professor was left -exulting in the sole possession of what seemed to him, in vision, the -nearest representative of the gold of Ophir, not to speak of California. - -The idea of the young mathematician was, in itself, a practical one, -and seemed rationally conceived. - -We have used the word almanac, by which it was designated, but in -reality it very poorly conveys the subtle and singular combinations -which were here brought to bear upon a circular, rotary surface, the -aim of which was, to so far simplify the calculations of interest, -wages, discounts, and a hundred other tedious and difficult problems -occurring in complicated business affairs, that the merchant or banker -had only to glance his eye down a line of figures, to ascertain in -a moment results which would take him, by all the ordinary aids and -processes, a long calculation to arrive at. - -It was a brilliant conception, which must prove ultimately a most -successful discovery of the young mathematician, and one which had -cost him many years of careful analysis and profound observation. But -as he handed over the perfected copyright to our astute Professor, -who had just enough of button-trading cunning to perceive the immense -practical results of the enterprise, without the slightest knowledge -of the processes by which it had been perfected, there might have been -noticed upon the face of his former victim, as he pocketed his paltry -bonus, a slight sneer, which would have alarmed any one less gifted -with occasional short-sightedness than our Professor has shown himself -to be. - -He made off with the documents in an ecstacy of triumph, and forthwith -began making round purchases of paper, pasteboard, and other mechanical -appliances necessary to his success, to the amount of thousands of his -easily-got gains; and then as heavy sums were as rapidly expended upon -the costly and difficult copper-plate engraving, which was to set forth -in full the triumph, the undivided honors of which he now claimed, to -the world. - -There are few of the main printing-offices in the country that had -not, or have not, that famous circular almanac hanging upon their -walls. Unfortunately the Professor had been too eager to promulgate -his triumph, and powerfully illustrated in this experiment the truth -of the old aphorism, “The greater haste the less speed;” for it turned -out, upon a close examination of the long and intricate series of -calculations, by scientific men, that the fatal error of a single -numeral ran throughout its complex demonstration, and rendered -its whole results utterly futile, without the enormous expense of -cancelling the costly copper-plate, and the tremendous edition which -had been already issued. The incorrigible ignorance of the Spiritual -Professor had rendered him incapable of detecting the error himself, -and he had thereby swamped effectually not only his magnanimous -speculation in this particular case, but thoroughly dissipated the -abundant proceeds of his more successful speculation in the spiritual -correspondences. - -This little accident threw him upon his shifts, but we shall surely -find him upon his feet again hereafter. - -Had not his starving victim subtly worked out a sublime revenge, in -spite of the fact that he had been over and over again so thoroughly -_saved_? So much for Boanerges and the young mathematician. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - THE NEW “SAVING GRACE.” - - Thou hast thews - Immortal, for thou art of heavenly race; - But such a love is mine, that here I chase - Eternally away from thee all bloom - Of youth, and destine thee towards a tomb. - ENDYMION. - - Fierce, wan, - And tyrranizing was the lady’s look. - _Idem._ - - -A year, in the life of man, is a long time. Alas! what changes may it -not bring about to any, the strongest of us, the most secure—those -weary, dragging twelve months! Such a period has elapsed in the -chronology of our narrative, since the scenes described as occurring at -the Graham House. - -It is late, on a dark stormy evening, and we will look into the -well-stocked half library and half office of a handsome private -residence in Beekman Street, New York. - -The cushioned appliances of the most fastidious luxury of repose were -strewed about the room in the strangest disorder of heaped cushions, -fallen chairs, and out-of-place lounges; while books, surgical -instruments, vials, dusty, crusty, broken, and corkless, all mingled in -the desolate confusion which seemed to have usurped the place. - -A shaded lamp stood upon the table in the centre of this chaos, and -threw its light upon a large decanter of brandy and a glass beneath. -A deep-drawn moaning sigh disturbs the deathlike silence of the room; -and a broad, stout figure, which had leaned back within the shadow -of a huge cushioned chair beside the table, reached suddenly forward -and clutched the brandy-bottle convulsively. He dashed a great gulp -into the glass, and then, with trembling hand, attempted to carry it -to his lips. After two or three efforts, which proved unavailing from -his excessive nervousness, he replaced the glass, muttering, “Curse -this nervousness! It will not even let me drink my poison any more!” -He shuddered as he turned his head away. “No wonder! how horribly the -hell-broth smells!” He fell back into the deep chair again and was -silent for some time, when, uttering from the depths of his chest that -strange moan, he sprang to his feet. - -“I must drink!” he gnashed, as, seizing the decanter again, he filled -the tumbler to overflowing, splashing the dark fluid over everything on -the table. “I shall die if I do not drink! I shall go crazy! I will not -be baffled!” - -Without attempting to raise it again to his lips, he bowed them to -the brimming glass, and as the beast drinks, so drank he. Oh, fearful -degradation! Where now is the strong man? that powerful frame would -speak. After leaning the tumbler with his lips and trembling hands in -a long, deep draught, he straightened himself with an expression of -loathing that distorted his face hideously. - -“Paugh! Hell should mix more nectar with its chiefest physic! This -stuff is loathsome, and my revolting nerves seem with a separate life -to shudder as the new babe does to hear the asp hiss amidst the flowers -where it sports! Paugh! infernal! that it should come to me in this -short time, even as a second nature, to learn to feed on poisons! It -was not so once; nature was sufficient, aye, sufficient, when the skies -rained glory out of day, and the stars came down in beamy strength -through night! But then! but then! Ah, yes! it had not become necessary -then, that I should be s-a-v-e-d by human love!” and his features -writhed as he prolonged the word.—“S-a-v-e-d! no! no! no heavenly guise -of horrid lust to s-a-v-e me! The chaste and blushing spring came to -the early winter of my sterile life that bloomed beneath its radiant -warmth, and gladdened to grow green and odor-breathed and soft, and -then! oh, horror! horror! I am strong enough to drink again. My nerves -are numbed now; they dare not tremble.” - -He seized the decanter once more, and then, with unshaking hand, -conveyed the brimming glass to his lips, and after a deep draught threw -himself upon the chair again, and drawing at the same time a glittering -object from his breast, he leaned forward within the circle of the -lamp-light to regard it as it lay open upon the table before him. This -is the first time we have seen that face clearly—that haggard, pallid -face. Ha! can it be? Those sunken, bloated cheeks! Those dimmed, hollow -eyes, with leaden, drooping lids! O, can it be? Have we known that face -before? God help us! The good Doctor! and only one year! - -But see the change! His eye has rested upon that face before him. A -miniature, beautifully executed. In it a charmed art has presided at a -miracle! an arch seraphic brow all “sunnied o’er” by the golden reflex -from its tangled curls, broken in beam and shadow, gracefully glanced a -gay defiance in his eyes, from eyes—so lustrous innocent! You dare not -say they could be less than all divine, but that the sweet mouth spoke -of earth, and every weakness of it, “earthy.” - -See how the face of that sad and broken man is changing! those shrunk -and heavy features are re-lit with life, as some dead waste with -sunshine, suddenly. The bright, the tender past; the mellowed, mournful -past, have mounted to the eyes and flushed those massive features once -again. He seems as one transfigured for a moment, while he gazes. The -glory of old innocence has compassed him about, alas! but for a moment! -The tears pour flooding from his eyes, and blot the face whereon he -gazes. A sob—that wild and piteous moan again—and the palsied wreck of -the strong man falls back once more into his cushioned chair. A horrid, -stertorous breathing, most like that of a dying man, fills the gloomy -air of that dim room, and with ashy lips and fallen jaw, he sleeps! Ah, -that seems a fearful sleep, with the tears, warm tears, still pouring, -pouring down the rigid cheek! - -The shaded lamp burns on, and fitfully the chaos of that room, here and -there, is touched by its faint light. A slight sound, a rustling tread -is heard, and in a moment, a woman, dressed in black, with a black veil -about her face, and the umbrella which had protected her from the storm -in her hand, stood beside the sleeper. She evidently had a pass-key, -for she walked forward as one accustomed to use it at all hours and -confidently. - -“The beast! Drunk, dead drunk again!” she muttered. “I shan’t get the -money I wanted to-night, that is plain! Curse his obstinacy! After all -my trouble to save him, this is my reward! Worse and worse!” - -She sprang forward eagerly as her eye fell upon the jewelled miniature -that lay before him on the table, and snatched it up. “Ha! this will -save me some trouble!” She turned it eagerly over in her hands, -throwing back her veil at the same time, to examine the valuable case -with vivid glistening eyes, that did not seem to notice in the least -degree the exquisite painting within. - -“Ah, yes, this is great! Wonder the fool never let me know of it -before! I should have had it in Chatham Street before this! Never mind, -‘never too late,’ I see! It saves me the trouble of exploring his -pockets and table-drawers to-night, for what is getting to be a scarce -commodity. Bah! what silly school-girl face is this? He is falling back -to whine about the past. O, that’s all right. I’ll fill his decanter -for him! He has done enough. He has fed me for a year. I’ll let the -poor wretch off! Yes, I’ve _saved_ him! _I have feasted on him!_” And -she drew herself erect with a triumphant swelling of the whole frame, -which seemed to emit, for the moment, from its outline, a keen quick -exhalation most like the heat-lightning of a sultry summer sky. - -She fills the decanter rapidly from a demijohn she drags from a closet -in the room, and places it by his side. She pushes the water-pitcher -far beyond his reach, and then steps forward for a moment into the -light. - -Have we ever seen that face before? No! no! It might have been—there -is some resemblance—but this form and face are too full of arrogant -abounding strength to be the same faint bleeding victim of ruthless -persecution that we saw at first! No! no! It cannot be she! Ha! as -she thrusts that jewelled miniature into her bosom and turns to glide -away, I can detect that infernal obliquity of the left eye! O, dainty -Etherial! - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - THE CONVENTICLE OF THE STRONG-MINDED. - - Her strong toils of grace. - SHAKSPEARE. - - -Take we a glimpse now of another interior scene in the strange, -mingled life of the great metropolis. In a bare and meanly-furnished -but roomy parlor of a house in Tenth Street, near Tompkins Square, we -find assembled, on one summer’s afternoon, a group of females. There -are perhaps ten of them in all. The characteristic which first strikes -the eye, on glancing around this group, is the strange angularity of -lines presented everywhere, in faces, figures, and attitudes, except -when contrasted with an uncouth and squabby _embonpoint_, which -seemed equally at variance with the physical harmonies, supposed to -be characteristic of the sex. What all this meant, you could not -comprehend at first glance; but the impression was, of something “out -of joint.” Where, or what, it was impossible to conjecture. Some sat -with their bonnets on, which had a Quakerish cut about them, though -not strictly orthodox. Some, conscious of fine hair, had tossed their -bonnets on the floor or chairs, as the case might be. There was, -in a word, a prevailing atmosphere of steadfast and devil-may-care -belligerence—a seeming, on brow, in hand, and foot, that, demurely -restrained, as it certainly was, unconsciously led you to feel that a -slow and simultaneous unbuttoning of the cuffs of sleeves, a deliberate -rolling up of the same, and a dazzling development of lean, taut -tendons, corrugated muscles, and swollen veins, would be the most -natural movement conceivable. Not that this bellicose sentiment, by -any means, seemed to have found its proper antagonism in the forms -and personalities then and there presented; but that you felt, in -the vacant reach and persistent abstraction of the expression, that -the foe, at whom they gazed through the infinite of space, was not an -Individuality, but an Essence,—a world-devouring element of Evil, with -which they warred. - -And warriors indeed they seemed—we should say Amazons—wielding, not the -weapons of carnal strife, but those mightier arms with which the Spirit -doth, at times, endow our race. As for the war they waged, whatever -might be the power with whom they were engaged, it seemed to have been -a protracted and a desperate one; for, verily, judging from the harsh -lines that seamed the faces of those present, one would imagine them to -be “rich only in large hurts!” - -There were young women present who were clearly under twenty; whose -foreheads, when they elevated their eyebrows, were wrinkled and -parchment-like as any - - “Painful warrior famoused for fight.” - -Why this unnatural wilting? would be the certain question of the -cool observer. What fearful wrongs have these women suffered? What -“contagious blastments?” Is the wicked world arraigned against them for -no just cause? Has it combined its respiring masses into one large, -simultaneous breath of volcanic cursings, to be wreaked upon their -unoffending heads alone? To be sure, - - “Some innocents ’scape not the thunderbolt;” - -and can it be that these, too, are “innocents?” It is true, physiology -teaches that, when women wither prematurely, acquire an unnatural -sharpness of feature, become - - “Beated and chapped with tanned antiquity,” - -before they have seen years enough for the bloom of the life of true -maturity to have freshened on their cheeks and foreheads, there must be -some cause for it. Common sense teaches, too, that that cause is most -likely to be, originally, rather a physical than a spiritual one—that -mental aberration, dogged and sullen moods, one-ideaed abstractions, a -general peevishness and fretful discontent, a suspicious unbelief in -the warm-blooded genialities, and much enduring sympathies of those -around them, whose lives are intact—or, in other words, who have held -themselves, in health, through nature, near to God—must have its source -in some evil not entirely foreign to themselves. - -Ask the wise physician why are these things so? He will answer, God has -so ordered this material universe, that, while we live in it, we must -conform to its laws; that, however powerful our spiritual entity, our -relations to this life must, to be happy, be normal. - -But this is prosing. It may, or it may not, account, in part, for the -combative and generally corrugated aspect of this conventicle of the -“strong-minded,” to which we have been introduced. Now let us listen! - -She to whom the place of presiding Pythoness seemed to have been, by -general understanding, assigned, now solemnly arose, amidst a sudden -pause of shrill-tongued clatter. She was very tall—nearly six feet. -Her straight figure would have seemed voluptuously rounded, but that -the loose-folded and wilted oval of her face suggested that the plump -bust, with its close, manly jacket of black velvet, buttoned down in -front, might owe something of its elastic seeming roundness to those -conventionalities, _à la modiste_, and otherwise, against which her -principles most vehemently protested. Her flaxen hair emulated the -classic tie of any Venus of them all, on the back part of the head; -while the effulgence of sunny curls flooded the very crow’s-feet in the -corners of her great, cold, dead, grey eyes. - -She shook her curls slightly, and spoke:— - -“My sisters, we have come together this afternoon, not to talk about -abstractions of right and wrong to our sex; for, upon all these -elementary subjects, our minds are fully made up—all those inductive -processes of which the human intellect is capable, our minds have -already passed through. Our opinions are irrevocably formed, our -conclusions absolute! Woman is oppressed by man. She is denied her -just rights. She is taxed, yet denied the privilege of representation. -She is a slave, without the privileges of slavery! for, in the old -slave-states, the possession of twenty, or thirty, or forty slaves -gives to their master the faintly-representative privilege of an -additional vote, while, to our tyrants, though each may hold, in -reality, a dozen wives, the law grants nothing! Leaving us, in fact, -not even the ‘shadow of a shade’ of a social or civil existence! We -are thus reduced to a condition of insignificance, in relation to the -active affairs of life and the world, that we have determined to be, -both incongruous and insufferable. - -“Man, our time-out-of-mind despot, has determined to reduce us to, -and hold us within, the sphere of mere wet-nurses to his insolent -and bifurcate progeny;—we must, forsooth, spawn for him, and then -dedicate our lives to educating his procreative vices into what he -calls manhood! We are wearied with the dull, stale, commonplace of -nursery-slops, and of the fractious squallings of our embryo tyrants! -Man must learn to nurse his own monsters, and we will nurse ours! We -have declared our independence of his tyranny; our great object is to -displace him from his seat of power! For six thousand years he has been -our despot—our ruthless and unscrupulous tyrant! We have therefore a -settlement to make with him—a long arrearage of accounts to be rendered. - -“But we are weak, while he is strong! He possesses the physical force, -and all the guarantees of precedence since time began, while we have -only our own weaknesses to fall back upon—what they, in their surfeited -rhythm, style ‘witching graces,’ and ‘nameless charms!’ - -“Well, we must use these against our obese foe as best we may. We -must clip the claws and teeth of the lion, at any rate; and, in -consideration that the whole World of Past and Present is arraigned -against us, we must accept as our motto, that of the only man who ever -deserved to be a woman, Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, - - “‘The end justifies the means.’” - -A small noise—a scarcely sensible “teetering” of pedal extremities -upon the thin carpet, followed this “stern demonstration” of “woman’s -rights,” from the accepted Priestess of the conventicle; when various -exclamations arose from different parts of the room, such as— - -“Right! right! End justifies the means, in dealing with the brutes!” - -“They give us no quarter, and we will give them none!” - -“Nurse their brats, forsooth!” - -“We must circumvent them as we can, to obtain our ‘rights!’” - -“Yes! yes! All stratagems are fair in love and war!” - -Suddenly sprang to her feet a very emphatic, stout woman, straight -and thick-set, with soiled cap, coarse, stubby, grayish hair, sparse, -silvery bristles on her chin, gray, savage eyes, and large fists, -which she brought down with a crash upon the frail chair-back which -constituted the bulwark of her position. In a voice of creaking bass, -she exclaimed— - -“The sister is right—they are our oppressors; but it is because we have -been cowards enough to yield them the supremacy; it is nothing but our -own cowardice that is to blame. Man knows, as well as any other animal, -on which side his bread is buttered; we have only got to learn him what -and where his place is, and he will keep it. When I first married, -I had some trouble with my Jonas; but I soon taught him that he had -better be back again in the whale’s belly, than employed in trenching -upon my ‘woman’s rights!’ (A general disposition to laugh, which was, -however, frowned down by the dignified Priestess.) - -“It is true, my sisters; we have only to assert our rights, and take -them! Man will never dare to rebel, if we are resolute. Overwhelm -him with our strength—make him feel his littleness beside us, -and he will slink into any hole to hide. I am myself in creed a -non-resistant—(suppressed laughter.) I do not believe in pummelling -truth into man; forced conversions do not last, and should not. But -I will tell you what sort of conversions I do believe in; they are -spiritual. Bow, bend, aye, break his spirit to your will, and then he -is yours; instead of being slave to him, he is your slave. This is what -we want. When he can be reduced to obedience, then he will be happy; -for when he has accepted us as his spiritual guides, and no longer -dreams of lifting his thoughts in rebellion, then will he always go -right. They themselves are for ever confessing, that without us, as -mothers, they would never—the greatest of them—arrive at any thing; -that they owe it all to us—all their greatness, all their goodness. Let -us take the hint, and hold the spiritual birch over them always, and -they will ever remain obedient, for their own good.” - -This speech was received with very general approbation; though, -that all did not recognise it as orthodox, became immediately -apparent. A tall, thin, cadaverous-looking lady, with excessively -black hair, and eyes that literally glistered as she rose—the huge -ear-rings and multifarious trinkets about her person quivering with -excitement—exclaimed, in a shrill voice— - -“It is false! it is not true that we desire to make slaves of man. -We are opposed to slavery—to slavery of all sorts; and, although man -deserves, on account of his oppressions of the poor negro, to be made a -slave of, if human slavery were to be tolerated, yet we desire rather -to return good for evil; and all we ask is equality in the Senate, in -the Presidential chair, on the bench of justice, in the counting-house -and workshop. We want our rights; our right to marriage as a mere -civil contract—our right to choose with whom we shall enter into that -contract, whether colored or white man, and our right to annul that -contract when it pleases us. What kind of freedom is it, when, if I -choose to marry a man of color, no matter how noble he may be, I am -to be mobbed and driven out of the society of my race; while, if I am -so unfortunate as to marry a white man, who turns out to be a brute -and tyrant, as he is most like to do, and attempt to rid myself of -the horrid incubus, by leaving him, or by suing him for a divorce, I -am equally mobbed by the hue-and-cry, and banished from society as an -outlaw? We want our rights in marriage—we want equality. I can—” - -Here the speaker was interrupted by a voice marvellously flute-like and -lingering in its intonations: - - “‘At which, like unbacked colts, they pricked their ears, - Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses, - As they smelt music.’” - -And cold shoulders were simultaneously turned upon the dark-haired and -be-jewelled orator of amalgamation. - -The dulcet-toned interrogator, who, to the surprise of all eyes, -appeared a squabby, cottony, pale-eyed, thick-lipped, lymphatic-looking -personage, who wore a wig clumsily, and had no vestige of hair upon -brow or violet eyelids, proceeded, in mellifluous phrase— - -“We did not come here to talk about private grievances. The sister who -speaks so fiercely of our rights, in regard to marriage, had better -have had a little experience on the subject. She is, I should judge, -considerably the rise of forty, and has never yet been married; not -even to one of the dark-browed children of Ham, towards whom she -exhibits so decided a leaning. Now, I have been married six times -already—(great sensation,)—and to white men, and gentlemen, at that; -and consider myself, therefore, qualified to speak of marriage. -Marriage is a great blessing; let her try it when she gets a chance, -and she will find it so! (much bristling and fidgeting, the dark-haired -woman looking daggers.) It isn’t marriage that is the great evil, -against which we have to fight—nor it isn’t the slavery of the colored -race, either. It is the slavery of our own race, of our own kith and -kin, of our own blood and complexion. It is the emancipation of our -own fathers, sons, and brothers, from the barbarous penalties of -the penal code. Our erring fathers, sons, and brothers; it is their -cause, my sisters, it is their cause we are called upon to vindicate. -According to our brutal laws, one little frailty, to which we all -may be subject,—one little slip, which any, the purest of us may -make—subjects man to solitary incarceration for life, in which he is -cut off from all loving communion with our sex; or to the horrible -penalty of death by the rope! This, my beloved sisters, is the crying -evil of the day; and man, cruel man, is in favor of such inflictions. -We must soften his flinty heart, through our charms. It is our duty, it -is our mission, to effect amelioration in favor of the erring classes. -We are all erring; and in how much are we better than they?—except, -that through our cunning, and in our cowardice, we have as yet escaped -penalties which, under the same measure of justice, might as well have -been visited upon us. I have visited the penitentiaries and prisons of -many States, that I might carry consolation to the shorn and manacled -children of oppression. I tell you that I have seen among them gods, -whose shattered armor gleamed in light! I have seen Apollo, with his -winged heel chained to a round-shot! I have witnessed more glorious -effulg—” - -“Hiss-s-s-s!” “Nonsense!” - -“It was Mercury, the god of thieves, you saw with the round-shot at his -heels!” said an oily voice; and, as all eyes turned in that direction, -the forehead of the speaker flushed crimson while she proceeded— - -“It is not man at all; it is we who shut ourselves up in tight frocks, -who make hooks-and-eyes our jailors, and ribs of whalebone our -strait-jackets! Let us first free ourselves physically, give our lungs -and hearts room to play, and then we may talk about open battle with -man for our rights. But, as it is, to speak thus, is nonsense. We are -weak, while man is strong; we must fight him with other weapons than -open force. While he laughs at our pretensions, let us, too, laugh -at his foibles, and govern him through them. It was to consult, as -to some consistent and uniform system, by which we should be enabled -to accomplish this result, that we came together this afternoon. It -has been well said, that our motto should be, ‘The end justifies the -means.’ To the weak and the determined, this is a sacred creed, and -we should go forth with it in our hearts, and act upon it in all our -relations towards men. It should be our business to get possession of -them, body and soul. We need their influence, to advance our views, to -obtain our rights. We should be all things to all men; should believe -in the Bible, in Fourier, in Swedenborg, in Joe Smith, or Mahomet, -if necessary, so that the influence be gained. We must seek out -everywhere men who hold places of power and public influence, and win -them—not to our cause, for that would be hopeless—but to ourselves; -and through ourselves to our cause. We must not scruple as to the -means; for ‘the end justifies the means.’ We must find, by whatever -stratagem, art, or intrigue, that may be available, the assailable -points in the characters of those who may be of use to us, and secure -them, at whatever risk of reputation; for, as we will secretly sustain -each other, we will at once dignify ourselves and our cause into -the position of martyrdom, and be able to take shelter behind the -omnipotent cry of persecution. There we are safe.” - -“Good!” “Good!” “Right!” “Right!” “Just the thing!” burst from all -sides of the room; while the weather-beaten face,—that is, the -forehead,—of the lithe, glib speaker flushed with momentary exultation, -while she continued, with still greater emphasis— - -“Thus banded, my sisters, if we are firm, faithful, and enduring, we -may conquer the world. There is never a period when there is more than -a dozen men who wield its destinies. There are nearly a dozen of us -here present, and there are other spirits that I know, resolute and -strong enough, to be our associates; let us resolve, then, to govern -those who govern; and the romantic fragments of the life of a Lola -Montes will have been firmly conjoined in the fact of a governing -dynasty, the sceptre of which shall be upheld by woman.” - -Storms of applause, during which the plain, Quakerish-looking speaker -subsided into her seat. As she did so, there might have been observed, -under the flush of exultation which mantled her brow, a singular -obliquity of the left eye! Ha! Etherial! - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - INTRUSION. - - ’Tis he! I ken the manner of his gait— - He rises on the toe; that spirit of his - In aspiration lifts him from the earth. - SHAKSPEARE. - - A barren-spirited fellow! one that feeds - On objects, arts, and imitations. - _Idem._ - - This is a slight, unmeritable man, - Meet to be sent on errands. - _Idem._ - - -We will now enter one of the upper rooms of the notorious Graham House, -with the interior of which we have before been familiarised, and which -had been reopened, on a modified basis. A single glance at the confused -piles of manuscripts, books, and papers, scattered about the room and -on the table, mingled with stumps of pens and cigars, and a long-tubed -meerschaum, showed that it could be no other than the characteristic -den of a literary bachelor, who, with chair and table drawn close to -the stove, sat there to show for himself, earnestly engaged in what -seemed to be the business of his life—writing. - -You saw in a moment that this was not a Northern man, for in -addition to the long, black, and wavy hair, the dark, bronzed, -and vaulting features indicated clearly a Southern origin. He was -evidently young—certainly not more than twenty-seven, judging, as one -instinctively does, by contour of person and features, and not by the -expression of the face. But that expression, when you saw it, as he -lifted his head, at once left you in doubt whether it could possibly -belong to so immature a period of life. Although the brow was broad, -and mild as that of a child, yet there was a solemn and unnatural -fixedness in the whole face, which, united with the cold stillness of -the great, gray, hollow eyes, told at once a dreary tale of suffering, -which sent an involuntary shudder through your soul. Where the -expression rested most, it was impossible for you to tell; but the -feeling it conveyed was one of absolute horror. That a face, which -seemed so young, should be one that never smiled!—And could the story -that it told be true? Could it be that for years that face had never -smiled? - -A light tap was heard at the door, and, with a momentary frown of -vexation at the interruption, he turned his head, and a young man -entered the room, with somewhat hesitating step, which showed that he -was by no means certain of his ground. - -He was slight and thin, something below the average height, with even -a darker complexion than that of the face we have just described; his -black hair, and preternaturally black and vivid eyes, glittered beneath -straight, heavy brows, which nearly met. His nose was prominent and -partly arched; and there was, in the whole bowed bearing and cat-like -gait of this person, an inexplicably strange and foreign look, which, -alike in all countries, characterises that fated race which is yet an -outcast among the nations. - -His greeting was singularly expressive of eager appreciation, while -that of his host to him was cold, distant, and merely polite. Pushing -aside his writing materials, as he handed him a chair, Manton—for such -was the name of our young writer—turned upon his visitor a frigid look -of inquiry, and said, with a formality almost drawling— - -“Doctor E. Willamot Weasel, I hope it is well with you this evening?” - -His visitor, in rather a confused manner, commenced—“Ye-es, yes—I—I -fear I am intruding on your seclusion; but p-pardon me, I cannot bear -any longer to see you thus seclude yourself from all the amenities of -social life. You need relaxation; your stern isolation here with the -pen, and pen alone, is playing wild work with your fine faculties. -Pardon me, if I insist upon it, that you must and should accept -the sympathies of the men and women around you. In the doctrine of -unity in diversity, Fourier demonstrates that there is nothing more -fatal to consistent development of both body and mind, than entire -pre-occupation in a single object or pursuit.” - -Detecting a shade of vexation, at this juncture, crossing the open -brow of Manton, Doctor Ebenezer Willamot Weasel hastily reiterated his -apologies. - -“I beg of you not to mistake my zeal for impertinence. I have already -received much good and many valuable truths from conversation with you, -and I conceive myself under strong personal obligations of gratitude -to you, that I hope may plead for me in extenuation of what you, no -doubt, consider an impertinent intrusion. I would, as some measure of -acknowledgment for such obligations, beg to be permitted to protest -with you against this dangerous and obstinate isolation from all human -sympathies, in which your life, dedicated to literary ambition, seems -to be here fixed.” - -“My good friend, Doctor Weasel, my life is my own, and my purposes are -fixed. I need no sympathisers, since I am sufficient unto myself. They -would only distract and minify the higher aims of my life. You may -call it literary ambition, but I call it a settled and sacred purpose -to achieve good in my day and generation. I am content, sir! Do not -attempt to disturb that contentment!” - -This reply was somewhat curtly delivered, and seemed to discompose the -Doctor, who, however, hesitatingly persisted— - -“Ah! ah! ah! yes! I expected to hear something of the sort from you, -of course, but I beg you to consider that, under the harmonic law of -reciprocation or mutual support and benefits, discovered by Fourier, -and which lies at the base of all true organisation, you have no more -right, as an individual, to hold yourself aloof, intellectually and -socially, from the great body of mankind who are working for your -benefit as well as for their own, than a rich man has to lock up his -hoards of gold, and bury it where future generations may not reach it! -The social state can only exist by individual concessions in favour of -the whole.” - -“Your argument,” was the cold response, “like all generalising -postulates aimed at particular cases, overleaps its mark. I consider -that I shall effect more earnest good by persisting in this isolation -against which you protest. For as I do not ask or require the -individual sympathies of my race, but rather choose the still-life of -undisturbed sympathy and communion with nature, I feel that I shall -accomplish more, far more, for humanity, in thus dedicating myself -to her interpretation. Through me, as a medium, my fellow men may -thus learn far loftier truths than they themselves might ever impart -reciprocally amidst the babble of what you call social intercourse.” - -“But you do not exclude women, surely? That would be unnatural; for -you know that the life of man cannot be completely balanced, without -the ameliorating presence and subduing contact of woman. He becomes -a savage without her; his passions are brutalised, and the man is -spiritually and socially degraded.” - -“An admirable truism, Doctor! I honor and revere woman; in her high -place she is to us, emphatically—angel! But this very reverence in -which I hold her, prompts me to avoid contacts that may despoil me of -my ideal. I am prepared to worship her, but not to degrade or look upon -her degraded. There is nothing, in the range of human possibilities, so -hideous to me as such contact—for I would hold my mother’s image always -uncontaminated. I am a stranger, sir. I make no female acquaintances at -present here.” - -“Sorry,” said the Doctor, “very sorry, sir; for my special mission in -this case was to persuade you to give up your isolation, in favor of an -acquaintance with a most noble and charming woman, a friend of mine, -who, having met with your papers in the journal you are now editing, -is exceedingly anxious for an introduction, which I, in plain terms, -have come to request. She is a woman of masculine and daring mind, and -is taking the initial in most of the reform movements of the day, and -particularly the most important of them all, the science of physiology -as applicable to her own sex. She has taken the lead as the first -lecturer on such subjects, and is accomplishing a vast amount of good. -I am sure you will be much struck with her, and I never met two people -whom I was more anxious to see brought together. You will appreciate -each other, as physiology is one of your favorite subjects.” - -“Bah! a lecture-woman! But I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Doctor. -You could have told me nothing that would have more firmly fixed my -resolution neither to be introduced to or know the person of whom -you speak, on any terms whatever! Your manly-minded women are both -my disgust and abhorrence!—as what they choose to call manliness -is most usually a coarse and sensual impudence, based on inherent -immodesty, which renders them incapable of recognising the delicate -unities of propriety, either in thought or deed. I fully concede a -woman’s capacity for displaying the great and even loftier processes of -intellection; but the moment she unsexes herself, she and her thoughts -become vulgarised. Such people are universally adventuresses, and of -the most unscrupulous sort. I, as a stranger here, wish to run no risk -of becoming entangled in their plausibilities. I am working for a full, -free and frank recognition, by the social world, of my right to choose -the place, the social circle rather, that I shall enter and become a -part of. I do not wish to be dragged into such contacts, but to command -them at my will!” - -“But, sir,” persisted the Doctor, “she admires your papers so -fervently, and pities the cruel and self-inflicted isolation in which -you live, with such ardent, disinterested and motherly warmth, that you -can scarcely, in your heart, be so obdurate as to reject her genial -overture—the sole object of which is, to draw you forth into some -participation with the milder humanities—to make you feel that New York -is not really the savage, base and flowerless waste which we are led to -presume you consider it, from the attitude you have assumed toward its -social conditions. You are killing yourself here with tobacco, wine and -labour, while she would show that even self-immolated genius may find a -warm place to nestle, in distant lands, and near the matronly bosom, in -spite of cold and sullen self-reliance!” - -“The fact of her being a matron,” frigidly responded Manton, -“considerably modifies the general character of the proposition which -she has done me the honor, through you, to communicate. But, Doctor, I -must finally and definitively state to you that I do not, at present, -wish to cultivate any female acquaintance whatever in the city of New -York. I propose to wait until I can select instead of being selected.” -And rising at the same time with an impatient movement, which might -or might not, be mistaken for a desire to be left alone, Mr. Manton -politely showed Doctor E. Willamot Weasel, who had now taken the hint, -to the door. - - * * * * * - -Almost the same moment after his discomfited visitor left, Manton -hastily gathered up the scattered leaves of manuscript on his table, -and muttering, as he thrust the roll into his pocket, “Curse the -intrusion! this ought to have been in the printers’ hands an hour ago, -and yet it is not finished!” and snatching up his cap, he passed from -the room, and left the house. - -Not long after, there came a sharp ring at the door of the Graham -House, and the female servant, who hurriedly hastened to open it, -was quite as sharply interrogated by a woman on the outside, who was -closely veiled, and wore a sort of Quaker garb— - -“Is Mr. Manton in?” - -“No, ma’am, he has just gone out.” - -“Where is his room? I have a letter for him, which I wish to deposit in -a safe place with my own hands. What is the _number_ of his room?” she -asked, in an imperative manner. - -“Ma’am, the gentleman is out. Can’t you leave the letter with me or the -mistress? We will give it to him when he comes.” - -“No, I choose to place it myself. What is his _number_?” And as she -spoke, she slightly unveiled herself. The servant seemed to recognise -her face even through the dusk, and said, though rather sullenly, as -she gave way for her to pass— - -“Yes, ma’am, walk in. His room is No. 26, on the third floor.” The -female glided rapidly past, and as the servant attempted to follow her, -exclaiming, “Ma’am, I will show you the number,” she answered hastily, -“Never mind, I know where the room is now!” and darted up the stairs. - -The servant muttered some droll commentaries on this procedure, which -it is not necessary to repeat, and seeming to be afraid to complain to -her superiors, dragged herself surlily back towards her subterranean -home. - -In the meantime our light-footed and unceremonious caller had reached -the third floor, and walked straight forward to the door of the room -just left by Manton. She troubled herself with no idle ceremony of -knocking, but walked confidently in. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - BESIEGED. - - Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp, - When Agrican, with all his northern powers, - Besieged Albracca, as romances tell. - PARADISE REGAINED. - - -An hour after the last scene, Manton returned to his room, and, seeming -greatly hurried, lit his lamp, and throwing himself into a chair, -seized his pen, muttering between his teeth, “It must be finished -to-night! a _man_ has no right to be tired!” He was drawing his writing -materials towards him, to proceed with his work, when a something of -strange disorder among his papers caught his quick eye. - -“Ah! who has been disturbing my papers?” and as a flash of suspicion -shot through him, he sprang to his feet, exclaiming, “my trunks, no -doubt, have shared the inquisition!” and stepping quickly to them, he -threw up the lids. - -“By Heaven, it is so! what accursed carelessness this is of mine, -leaving everything unlocked in this fashion!” - -His first glance had shown him that the trunks had been disturbed, -and a cautious effort been made to replace the contents as they were -before. Uttering some energetic expletives of wrath, he knelt beside -one to ascertain how far the examination had been carried, when, -reaching the packages of letters and papers at the bottom, he saw -there, too, unmistakable evidence of a pretty thorough examination -having been held of their contents. - -If he had been enraged before, this filled him with uncontrollable -fury. He stamped his foot heavily upon the floor, and his whole frame -shook violently, while with gnashing teeth he called down a fearful -imprecation upon the head of this wretched violator, whoever it might -be, of the sad and mournful secrets of his past life, which he had held -sealed in his own bosom, so sternly, so long, and, alas! so vainly. -Those letters revealed all. Some prying reptile had thus slimed the -holy penetralia of his proud life! - -The very thought was horror—loathing! A shudder of unutterable disgust -crept through him; an uncontrollable fury blazed through his soul; -his eyes glittered with almost demoniac fire; his face turned deathly -white, and his teeth ground and clattered like the clamp of a wild -boar’s tusks, and yet he made no tragic start; he stood still, with his -arms clutching each other across his breast, and his eyes looking out -into the blank distance, through which their concentrated light seemed -to pierce to some far object. He at length pronounced slowly— - -“Yes, my curse shall follow you; be you man or woman, it shall overtake -you in terror! I feel the prophecy in me! The wretch who has thus -contaminated those chaste and loved mementoes, shall yet feel my curse! -My consciousness is filled with it! I know not how, or when, or where! -my curse shall reach and blast the author of this sacrilege!—bah!” and -his face writhed into the devilish mockery of a smile; “it is almost -sufficient vengeance, one would think, that the wretch found no money!” - -Starting suddenly forward, he commenced pacing to and fro with long -strides, with knitted brows, compressed lips, and eyes bent upon the -floor.—For more than an hour he thus silently communed with himself, -without the change of a muscle in expression, when drawing a long sigh, -he threw off this frigid look in a degree, merely saying in a low -voice, “My curse is good!” and returned to the table to resume his seat -and his labors. - -As he did so, his eye fell upon a note directed to himself, which, as -it had been placed in no very conspicuous position among the objects on -the table, had, till now, escaped his attention. He reached it, and the -dainty crow-quilled hand of the superscription, the snowy envelope, -and the pure white seal, disclosed at once the woman.—He regarded -it for a moment, coldly, and without any expression of interest or -surprise, and with a slight sneer upon his face, broke the seal, when -out slipped a gilt-edged note, which he opened and read aloud with a -jeering tone: - - FRIEND—May I not claim to be thy friend in common with the whole - world, who have learned to love thee, through thy beautiful thoughts? - Stricken, sad, and suicidal child of genius, may I not steal into - the tiger’s lair of thy savage isolation, to bring one single ray of - blessing, to tell thee how, at least, one human soul has throbbed - to the seraphic eloquence of powers, that, alas!—I appeal to your - inmost consciousness!—are being rapidly destroyed by your obstinate - seclusion in labor, and by the vices of wine and tobacco, which - are its necessary attendants. You have it in you to be saved; your - soul is tall and strong as an archangel; your vices are the withes - of grass that bind you; and love, social love, the calm and genial - reciprocation of domestic sympathies, can alone redeem you. - - You are proud—I know it! but pride will yield to gentleness, and in - a distant land among strangers, the tearless, motherless boy, will - not reject a mother’s proffer of a mother’s yearnings. You naughty, - haughty child, we must save you from yourself, in spite of yourself! - - Yours spiritually, - MARIE. - -Manton, whose face had, during this reading, writhed with almost every -conceivable expression, tossed the letter from him as he finished it, -with the exclamation—“Pah! this must be Doctor E. Willamot Weasel’s -lecture-woman! Impudent adventuress in every line, as I expected!” And -he resumed his pen and his labors, continuing in a low voice as he -commenced his writing—“Unfortunate allusion, by the way, to the withes -of grass—we cannot help being reminded of a certain Mr. Samson, and a -Miss or Mrs. Delilah. Curse her! how came she to speak of my mother?” -and grinding his teeth heavily, he proceeded with the work before him, -without paying any further attention to the circumstance. - -The greater portion of the night was spent in intense labor; but, when, -after a very late bath and breakfast, the next morning, Manton went -out to the office of the Journal for an hour, and returned, he was not -a little surprised to find another missive, as neat and snowy as the -first, awaiting him, on the table. - -He thought it must surely be the first, that he had, in some -unconscious mood, re-enclosed in the envelope; but, glancing around, he -saw it lying open, where he had tossed it. - -“Gramercy! but she fires fast!” he said, with a droll look passing -across his features, as he stooped down, his hands cautiously -clasped behind his back, to survey more closely the delicate -superscription—_Mr. Stewart Manton, Graham House, Present_. - -“Present! present! but this sounds rather ominous! Can it be that -my spiritual correspondent of last night is an inmate too? My -correspondent is evidently both in earnest and in a hurry! What shall I -do? By my faith, I have a great mind to throw it upon the centre-table -of the common parlor below, and let this benevolent lady reclaim her -own, or else leave it to the irresistible access of curiosity, common -to the sex, and peculiar to this queer house, to explore its unclaimed -sweets. The first taste has quite sickened me. I have something other -to do than listen to such inane twattle.” - -He continued for some moments to gaze upon the letter, while a -half-sneering smile played upon his grave and melancholy features. -“Well, but this must be a quaint specimen of a feminine, to say the -least of it! I have heard of these spiritual ladies before! The -character must be worth studying, though it seems to be transparent -enough, too. Well! we’ll see what she has to say this time, at any -rate! It can hardly be richer than the first! Here it is!” - - FRIEND—I know your heart. That proud heart of yours is at this moment - filled with scorn for my poor words and humble proffers. But it does - not affect me much, for well I know that this pride is the evil which - ever strives in the unregenerate soul, to fence against the approaches - of good. As yet this demon possesses thee, and, until conquered - and humbled by love, you can never be saved. Thy physical life is - poisoned—is poisoned with tobacco—and it is through such poisons that - this evil spirit of pride enters into thy soul. Thy spiritual vision - is thus obscured, that you may not perceive the truth. I shall pray - for you. My spirit shall wrestle with thine when you know it not, and - God will help his humble instrument. May He soon move that obdurate - heart of thine, proud boy! - MARIE - -“Well! but this is cool! decidedly refreshing! This pertinacious -creature is surely some mad woman confessed, as she certainly is a most -raging and impertinent fanatic! Boy, forsooth! patronising. I should -almost be provoked, were not the thing so egregiously ludicrous! Well, -well! it is consoling, at least, that I have found my good Samaritan -at last. I shall preserve these precious epistles, as decidedly -curious memoranda of this original type of the Yankee adventuress, -for Yankee she must be, who has set out thus boldly on a speculation -in the spiritualities. I think I have had enough of this trash now, -as I intend to take no notice either of it or of the writer. I should -suppose she might get discouraged.” - -The letters were thrown carelessly into a drawer, and Manton sat down -to his work. - -The next morning, when Manton returned from the office, at the usual -hour, what should meet his eye, the first thing on entering the room, -but a _third_ snowy missive, placed now more conspicuously, on the very -centre of the table. The poor man stopped, frowned, then gradually his -eyes distended into a wild stare, and lifting his hands at the same -moment, he shouted out— - -“Good God! What, another?” and then, with a sudden revulsion of -feeling, he burst into a loud, unnatural laugh. “This is patience for -you! By heaven! she dies game to the last! Well! let’s see what now, -for I am beginning to be charmed with the progress of this thing. -There’s an absolute fascination in such daring.” - -He snatched up the note, and opening it, read it _sotto voce_, with an -indescribable intonation of contempt:— - - FRIEND—Ah, glorious soul, that I might call thee so indeed! I have - just read your poem in the Journal. Read it, did I say? My soul has - devoured it! Again and again have I returned to the feast unsated. - Ah me, that mighty rhythm! It has filled me with new strength and - light! On its harmonious flow the universe of beauty, love and life - has been brought closer to me—has been revealed in splendor and - unutterable music, until I have sobbed for joy thereof, and prayed and - wrestled for thee, with my Father above, that thou mightest be saved. - It is terrible to think that a soul so god-like as thine should be - unregenerate. I bless thee! I bless thee, my son! I pray for thee! - I am praying for thee! I shall pray for thee always, until thou art - saved! - MARIE. - -“Good! I am in a fair way for salvation now, one would think! This -seems a strange character—such a mixture of fanaticism, cant, and, -withal, appreciation! That poem of mine was certainly an extraordinary -one. I hardly expected to find any one that would appreciate it at -first. But see! she has already caught its subtle reach and meaning. -Pooh! what a fool I am! This is perfectly on a par with all the other -hysterical cant which I have received from this person. The probability -is, if the lines had been written by Mr. Julian Augustus Maximilian -Dieaway, upon whose soft sconce she desired to make an impression (in -the way of speculation), the same extravagant tropes and metaphors -would have found their way to the snowy surface of this gilt-edged -paper, through the delicately-handled crow-quill! Curse it! I shall -order the chambermaid to stop the nuisance of these missives!” - -This letter was impatiently tossed into the drawer with the others, and -Manton threw himself into his chair; when, after sitting with his head -leaning on his hands, moody and motionless, for some time, he suddenly -straightened himself, and drew from the heap of magazines and books -before him a fresh-looking copy of the —— Journal. Turning over its -leaves eagerly to that which contained his new poem, he perused it and -re-perused it over and over again, with an expression of restlessness -and intense inquiry in his manner during the time. At last he drew a -long breath, and threw the book back upon the table, exclaiming in -a firm voice, “No! I am satisfied. This is no namby-pamby die-away -rhyming—there is genuine stuff there; that is true poetry, or I have -it not in my nature to produce it. That cursed meddlesome woman has -made me distrust myself for the moment; by her extravagant praises, -has made me doubt the genuineness of my own inspiration. Her letter is -so evidently disjointed ranting, that it has shaken my self-reliance -to have even read it. Curse her silly and impertinent legends, I shall -read no more of them!” - -Poor Manton was evidently troubled now, at length; and can the reader -conjecture why this last letter had so excited him? Had a subtle arrow -found its mark? Was there any thing in the poem really to justify the -high-flown and ecstatic panegyrics of missive No. 3, in the snow-white -envelope? You shall see—you shall judge. Here is a true copy of the -poem:— - - - NO REST. - - O soul, dream not of rest on earth! - On! forth on! It is thy doom! - Too stern for pain, too high for mirth, - On! thou must, through light and gloom. - - Would’st thou rest when thou hast strength - Mated with the seraphim? - Time outlasting, all whose length - Fades, within thine ages, dim? - - O strong traveller, can’st thou tire, - When, but touching at the grave, - Thy worn feet, re-shod, aspire, - Winged, to cleave as Uriel[3] clave? - - Rest! ah, rest then! be alone— - God the Worker, thou the Drone! - - Soon yon atom, swiftly driving - Past thee, in the upward race, - Braver for the perfect striving, - Shall assume the higher place. - - God, the Worker, knows no rest— - Pause, and be of Him unblest. - - Lo! how by thee all is flying! - Even matter outspeeds thee! - Stronger thou, yet thou seem’st dying— - Fading down immensity. - - Rouse the quickened life to know! - God works subtly, work thou so! - - Thou art subtler than the wind, - Than the waters, than the light, - Than old Chaos, whom these bind, - Beautiful, on axle bright. - - Yet thou sleepest, while they speed— - God, of sleepers has no need! - - Waiteth cloud, or stream, or flower, - Robing meadows and the wood? - Waiteth swallow past its hour, - Chasing spring beyond the flood? - - Yet thou waitest, weak, untrue— - God rebuketh sloth in you! - - Sing the stars wearily, - Old though and gray? - Spin they not cheerily - Cycles to-day? - Look they like failing, - Pause they for wailing, - Since none may stay? - Systems are falling— - Autumns have they; - Stars yet are calling - Life from decay. - Dead worlds but gild them - Dusted in light; - Dead times have filled them - Fuller of might. - Brightening, still brightening, - Round, round, they go— - Eternity lightening - The way and the wo! - DE NOTO. - - - [3] “Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even.” - PARADISE LOST. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - “ONCE MORE TO THE BREACH.” - - ——Once more to the breach, my friends! - Once more! - OLD PLAY. - - -Poor Manton was not permitted to remain in peace at his labors long. -On the afternoon of the same day, Doctor E. Willamot Weasel, scarcely -taking time to announce himself by a sharp knock, bolted into the room, -exclaiming— - -“Ah! my dear friend, pardon me; but the lady concerning whom I spoke -to you, is now in the parlor below, and requests the pleasure of an -interview.” - -A frown instantly darkened the brow of Manton, and he answered angrily— - -“Sir! you will remember that I expressed to you, most distinctly, a -disinclination for such an introduction. I told you I did not wish to -know this woman, then, and I feel still less inclination to know her -now.” - -“But, a-ah! my dear sir, you would not surely be unkind enough to -refuse to see the lady now, when she waits in the parlor, in momentary -expectation of seeing you—for the servant told her you were in? It -certainly can do you no harm to be courteous.” - -“That’s a strong appeal to make to a Southerner, Doctor Weasel, it must -be confessed.” - -“Yes,” said he, rubbing his hands, “I thought you could not disregard -it. I am so anxious to bring you together! Do come. I shall be -delighted. Come! pray come! she is waiting.” - -“Doctor Weasel, I do this thing with great reluctance,” said Manton, -rising. “I suppose I must go; but rest assured, I do not feel -particularly obliged to you for forcing me into this position.” - -This was said in a very cold, measured tone; but the Doctor’s delight -at the prospect of accomplishing his favorite and benevolent scheme, -was so great, that his excitement prevented him from observing it. - -“Never mind, come along; you will thank me for it, on the contrary, as -long as you live.” - -Manton left the room with him, and when they reached the parlor, he was -rapidly introduced to Mrs. Orne and her daughter, who sat upon a lounge -awaiting him. The Doctor instantly darted out of the room; and Manton -was left _vis-a-vis_ with his ecstatic correspondent. - -As the woman rose to meet him, the blood mounted to her very plain -face, and square, compact, masculine forehead. The child, which was -an ugly, impish-looking girl, with a mean forehead, wide mouth and -projecting chin, nevertheless arrested the eye of Manton, as he sat -down, by a mournful expression of suffering in her light gray eye. - -The woman was evidently embarrassed for a moment, by the studied -coldness of Manton’s manner, whose eye continued to dwell upon the -half-quaker, and half-tawdry dress, rather than upon the face that had -at the first glance impressed him so disagreeably. - -“I have found you out, at last!” said the lady visitor, in a low, -pleasing voice. “Now I have ventured into the tiger’s den, I hope he -will not eat me!” - -“You are perfectly safe, madam!” was the stiff response to this sally. -“But to what may I owe the honor of this visit? Is there anything I can -do for you?” - -The blood mounted quickly to the woman’s forehead as she answered -hastily, “Yes, I wanted to know if you can furnish me with a copy of -all your works! I have admired with so much intensity what I have -seen—but I am afraid you are very much of a naughty boy—you look so -cold and cross! I am almost afraid to ask you!” - -“I am very sorry, madam, I have written no works, as you are pleased -to call them. What I have done is entirely fragmentary, and I have not -collected those fragments even for myself,” was the unbending reply. - -“Oh, yes, you have! I have seen many of them, and you need not be -ashamed to own them, for there is nothing of the kind in literature to -surpass them. Why, there’s ——,” and she ran on with a ready list of -what she termed works, not a little to the surprise of Manton, who only -listened with a cold stare, and bowed profoundly, as she concluded with -a high-wrought panegyric. - -“I am sorry I have no such _works_ in my possession, nor can I tell you -where they can be obtained!” - -The woman grew very red in the face again, and bit her lips in -vexation, while Manton remained silent. She soon rallied, however, -and commenced a conversation upon the general literature of the day, -in which Manton, in spite of himself, was gradually interested, by -a certain sharp epigrammatic method of uttering heresies, and bold -paradoxes, which seemed to be peculiar to her mind, and which could not -but prove refreshing to one, who, like Manton, most heartily detested -commonplace. - -He, however, did not unbend in the slightest, and the woman, who -finally, in despair of “getting at him,” rose to depart, said, yet -perseveringly, with winning badinage— - -“I find you in a naughty humor to-day. You are as cold as an iceberg -and sharp as a nor’wester. When you get to be a good boy, you may come -and see me!” - -“When I _do_, madam, I shall surely come!” was the response, -accompanied by a very low bow, and delivered in a tone that would have -frost-bitten the ear of a polar bear. - -The discomfited woman hurried from the parlor with the blood almost -bursting from her face, while Manton, turning on his heel, muttered— - -“Well! if that does not freeze her off, she ought to be canonised!” - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - CARRIED BY STORM. - - You call it an ill angel—it may be so; - But sure am I, among the ranks that fell - ’Tis the first _fiend_ e’er counselled man to rise! - ANON. - - -Manton had reckoned without his host, in supposing that his -self-constituted patroness had any idea whatever of being frozen off: -on the contrary, her benevolent ardor had been only warmed still more, -as he had abundant evidence, when, on returning from his office next -morning, he found yet another snowy missive crowning the centre of his -table. - -“Monsieur Tonson, come again!” he exclaimed, as he seized the note, and -opened it this time without hesitation, “what can the incredible woman -have to say now? Well, here it is!” - - MY FRIEND—You heaped ice upon my heart yesterday. To-day, I feel - chilled and stiffened, as if my very soul-wings had been frosted - through your lips! Why did you do so? It was not magnanimous in you. - _You_ are proud, and beautiful, and strong, while I am plain, and - weak, and lowly. Was it worthy of a noble soul to treat with such - harsh and cutting coldness a poor, feeble, and wayworn daughter of - sorrow like myself, who had come merely in the meek and matronly - overflow of tenderness and appreciation for a poisoned, sick and - erring child of genius, to offer him her sympathy in his dreary and - unrelieved immolation of glorious powers at the unholy altar of - ambition? Was it not unkind of you? Can you suppose that had you - not been poisoned, body and soul, the demon pride would have thus - overruled your better and your angel nature to such harsh rejection - of the comforter, the Father had sent you in his mercy? What have I - asked of you, but that you should unbend this fatal pride, and accept - of mortal genialities? That you should spare yourself from yourself, - and give something to others. Ah! you will not always thus repulse the - sympathies of your race—naughty, naughty boy! hasten to be good and - come to see me! - MARIE. - -“Well! well! by heaven, the audacity of this thing soars to the -sublime! and yet there is some truth as well as pathos in it, too! Now, -I come to think of it, it was unmanly of me to treat the poor woman -so, just as if I expected she carried stilettoes or revolvers under -her petticoats, or wore aromatic poison in her bosom, with a foul and -treacherous design upon my life! The fact is, I have made a bugbear of -this creature in my imagination, when she is nothing, in fact, but fool -and fanatic combined, with a little disjointed mother-wit. Curse the -whole affair! I wish she and her endless letters were in the bottom of -the sea! By these persistent impertinences she disturbs me in my work; -these distractions are unendurable! I wish she were only safe in heaven. - -It is useless to give _all_ the letters which poor Manton received -within the next four or five days, but it is sufficient to say that at -last, in a fit of veritable desperation, spleen and humor, he answered -one of the last in a tone of hyperbolical exaggeration that would have -put to shame, not Mercutio only, but the veritable Bombastes Furioso -himself. The effect was coldly studied, and behold the result. - -The next morning a servant informed him that a lady desired to see him -in the parlor. - -Terror-stricken by the announcement, he nevertheless knew, in his -conscience, that he had brought down the judgment upon his own head. He -therefore felt it to be his duty to abide the consequences of his own -imprudence, and went down to wait upon his caller, who, of course, was -no other than his correspondent. - -She received him with a flushing face, as seemed to be usual to her -shrinking nature. She was this time without her daughter. There -were other persons in the parlor, and this seemed to disconcert her -somewhat, for she had evidently come full of some important disclosure. -Although it was the latter part of winter, and a heavy snow had just -commenced breaking up, which rendered the streets of New York almost -impassable, she nevertheless proposed that they should go out for a -long walk. Manton looked through the window into the sloppy street, -opened his eyes a little, and assented. - -There was something wonderfully rare in the idea of a woman’s proposing -a long walk on such a day, and Manton relished the hardiness and -originality of the thing. - -“Well!” said he to himself, “I like her spunk, anyhow! She has shown -herself in every way to be in earnest in what she undertakes. Phew! -I shall enjoy it! a woman in long petticoats, wading a mile or two -through a cold slush such as this! After this, what is it that Madame -won’t do? I’ll lead her something of a round, at any rate, before she -gets back.” - -These thoughts passed through his mind as he ran up-stairs for his cap. -She met him as he came down, in the passage-way, and they passed out at -the front door. - -“You are a droll person,” said Manton, as they reached the street. - -“Why?” asked she, with a covert gleam in her eye. - -“Why? Because few women would have thought of choosing such a day as -this for a walk.” - -“I care nothing for trifles! Misfortune has taught me to disregard -them. Suffering makes us hardy.” - -Manton looked down at her with surprise; for, of all things on earth, -the most disagreeable to him, was that commonplace timidity, and -shrinking from trifles, which is so ludicrously characteristic of -American women. He did not wish to see woman unsexed, but contemned her -puerile and unnecessary cowardice. - -His companion now proceeded with great animation to follow up the -favorable opening thus effected, with a rapid and pathetic sketch, in -outline, of her sad and suffering life. - -She had been married by her parents to a sordid lout of a Quaker, in -New England, whose horrid barbarities and persecutions had finally -compelled the weak and hitherto unresisting woman to seek a separation, -the scandal of which had roused against her the relentless animosity of -the whole body of New England Quakers, who finally carried their brutal -persecution to the extreme of assisting her yet more brutal husband, -in robbing her of her dear and only child, under the plea that she was -neither a suitable nor capable person to have charge of it. That, after -a long period, spent by the distracted mother in roaming up and down -the land, in search of aid and comfort, she had at length succeeded in -enlisting some noble and benevolent souls in her cause, who finally -rescued the child, by strategy or force, and restored it to its weeping -mother’s arms. - -In addition to this sad tale of suffering connected with her private -history, which was most skilfully and artistically worked up, she had -another, of public martyrdom, which was, to Manton, far more impressive. - -Through obscurity and poverty, this resolute and daring woman had -dedicated herself to the amelioration of the physical evils of her -helpless sex. She had, with unflagging ardor, studied the books of -anatomical science, the diseases of her sex, and the wisest means of -cure. And thus, in addition to having been the first woman in New -England to publicly assert that there is no true marriage but in love, -she had also led the way in announcing to women their sanitary duties -to themselves; that they must learn to heal their bodies, and leave the -other sex to take care of their own diseases; that delicacy as well as -utility prompted this course. - -This idea at once met the approbation of Manton, to whom its assertion -was comparatively novel, but who had always deeply felt the lamentable -helplessness of woman, and the unnatural relation of the male members -of the profession to them. - -The brave and hearty manner in which this singular woman had evidently -breasted alone the popular prejudice, in a cause which he saw, at a -glance, to be so just and nobly utilitarian, for the first time moved -his sympathies somewhat in her favor, in spite of his contempt and -disgust for women who ventured beyond their sphere. - -The vocation of a learned nurse to diseased persons of her own -sex, was clearly to him _not_ beyond the proper sphere of woman, -but a most important, legitimate, and—however little recognised, -conventionally—the most honorable and useful. He could not but respect -the woman, whatever her eccentricities might be, who could be brave -and true enough to assert effectively to her sex, the natural and -inevitable mandate, “Know thyself!” - -There was something chivalrous in the thought—a generous daring, a -martyr spirit, that could not fail to arrest a nature in itself, rashly -scornful of all that was merely conventional, and whose untamed, -half-savage soul rejoiced in all novelties that expressed to him a -higher utility than mere forms conveyed. - -The walk was continued for hours; and still further to try her nerves, -during this long conversation, Manton turned through many intricacies -into the most darkened labyrinths of the vice-profaned metropolis. - -The woman never flinched; nothing seemed to appal her, and, as they -threaded rapidly the dingy alleys of the “Five Points,” she had an -acute theory or a daring speculation for each evil, the external form -of which they successively encountered. - -There was a vigor and originality in all this, as coming from a woman, -that interested Manton in spite of himself. Plain, uncouth, and -eccentric as was this scorned “lecture-woman,” he could not but confess -to himself, as they returned mud-bedraggled and tired enough from that -long walk, that his respect for her had very much increased. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - SPIRITUAL CONFIDENCES. - - And under fair pretence of friendly ends, - And well-placed words of glozing courtesy, - Baited with reasons not unplausible, - Wind me into easy-hearted man, - And hug him into snares. - MASK OF COMUS. - - -We shall follow the bedraggled heroine of the last chapter, begging -leave of the reader to “see her home.” - -Mark with what an elate and vigorous step she trips it up Barclay -Street into Broadway, after taking leave of Manton at the door of the -Graham House. One would think that she should surely be tired, after -that tremendous morning’s work, trudging and splashing through the -dirtiest mire of three-fourths of the great city. But no—she springs in -her gait, and her strange, animal eye, glitters fairly with a devilish -obliquity, which has for the moment usurped its expression. She does -not mind that people turn and stare after her dragging and bespattered -skirts—not she!—her very soul is possessed with the pre-occupation of -an ecstatic gloating over some great conquest achieved, or closely -perceived already in the prospective future into which she glares. - -We shall see what we shall see—only follow, still follow. She has -turned up Broadway, and threads the great throng there with rapid -glide, as street after street is passed. Ah, now we have it! She -crosses—this is Eighth Street! There, in Broadway, near the corner, -stands a great house, with wide-open door; the smeared and dirty -lintels, the greasy latch, the wide, uncarpeted hall of which, at -once reveals it to be one of those miscellaneous and incomprehensible -edifices, which are not unfrequently met with on the great -thoroughfare, and the uses of which are not generally more specifically -known, than that they are fashionable boarding-houses. - -Into this ever-gaping entrance she wheeled, and darted up the broad, -uncarpeted stairway, which she continued to ascend with almost -incredible ease and swiftness to the fifth story. When near the end -of a long and narrow passage, she paused before one of the doors, and -tapping it slightly, entered without farther ceremony. - -A handsome and well-dressed woman, who was engaged in writing at a -small escritoire, looked up indifferently as she entered, but the -moment she caught the expression of the newcomer’s face, she sprang -to her feet, throwing down the pen, and with a strangely shrill and -unmusical laugh, screamed out in a most inconceivably voluble style— - -“Why, I declare! Marie, what’s the matter? Your eyes are almost -bursting out of your head! You look as if you had found a bag of gold, -and meant to give me half! Why, bless the woman, how she looks! Have -you caught him at last? Well, we’re in luck! I’ve caught my man for -sure! He’s been here all the morning, he’s just left! Why, how the -woman looks! She keeps staring so! You haven’t gone crazy for joy, have -you? Now, do tell! how have you managed to catch that insolent baby, -you seemed to have set your heart on so? Why, how muddy the woman is!” -she shrieked, looking down at the condition of her dress. “Ha! ha! ha! -ha! Do tell, what sort of a game have you been playing? Did you have to -hunt him through a pig-sty?” - -The woman had been standing motionless, in the meantime, with distended -eyes and compressed mouth, stretched in a rigid smile of supernaturally -savage exultation. She gazed towards the face of the speaker, but -did not seem to listen to her, or see her features. She looked the -abstracted embodiment of triumphing evil. Very soon her stiffened lips -quivered slightly, while the voluble lady stepping forward, shook her -sharply by the shoulder, shrilling out again— - -“Do look at the woman! Why, what can be the matter? Can’t you talk? The -cat’s got the woman’s tongue surely! I did not think you were so much -in earnest about that green boy! Why, I could twist him about my finger -like a tow-string! I have achieved something in conquering _my_ man!” - -“Y-your man!” said the woman slowly, interrupting her. But these words -were accompanied by a look of such strange and taunting significance, -that the other turned instantly pale and sprang back, as if she had -received an electric shock from those singular eyes, that fell upon her -for a moment with their evil obliquity, and then returned instantly to -their natural expression. “Wh-why, what do you mean?” stammered the -other angrily. - -The woman only answered with a pleasant smile—“Now don’t be a jealous -fool, Jeannette Shrewell—I shall never interfere with your schemes if -you don’t with mine.” - -“Yes! but because you knew Edmond long ago,” continued the other in a -fierce and shrewish voice, “you dare to insinuate to me that he too has -passed through your hands!” - -The woman broke out into a loud laugh—“Why, what a child you are! You -know what my relations to Edmond are, perfectly. Spiritual—purely -and spotlessly spiritual. I should no more think of him than of my -grandfather.” - -“Spiritual!” shrieked the other, springing forward; “do you dare to -use that stupid cant to me? Keep it for the sap-headed boys and senile -drivellers that you decoy with such bait, to plunder. You shan’t insult -me to my teeth with it.” - -The speaker, whose physical energies were far more vehement and -overbearing than the other, seemed to have entirely awed her. She -sank meekly into a chair, turned very pale, and lifting her eyes with -an humble look, she said, in a low imploring voice, “Now, Jeannette, -please don’t be so violent. I did not mean to taunt or insult you. You -have altogether mistaken me, dear friend. Now, please be calm.” - -But the other, whose long black curls still writhed and quivered, like -the snakes of the Gorgon head, with rage, stood towering before the -suppliant, as if she meant to crush her; and as she thus stood, she -really looked superb. - -Her profile was delicately chiselled and Roman, with large, dark gray -eyes, thin lips, and fine chin; and now that every feature was inspired -with anger, the eye ceased to be offended by their habitual expression -of selfish, cold, and sharp intellection. She continued, quite as -vehemently— - -“You have sown the wind, and you must reap. I have heard this vile -insinuation before of something between you and Edmond at B.” - -“Jeannette! Jeannette! it is false! every word of it. It is a vile -slander of my enemies. Ask Edmond himself—he will tell you it is so.” - -“Yes! yes! I know it is false. But who gave circulation to these -reports? Hey? Your enemies, were they? Your enemies must have a great -deal to do, that they keep themselves busy with these manifold stories -of your adventures. Who was it aspired to the eclat of any affair with -the rich, generous, learned, and travelled Edmond? Who was it dragged -him, through his unsuspecting recklessness of conventional usages, into -conditions which rendered him liable to such an imputation? Who boasted -of it, and attempted to place him in the same category with the dupes -and gulls and fools she had already ruined and plundered? Hey? Who -was it? Marie ——, I know you,” and she stretched herself to her full -height; but, had her vision not been blinded by passion, she might have -perceived a cold and scarcely perceptible smile of scornful incredulity -pass over the face at which she pointed her sharp finger. “I know you, -woman! Beware! beware how you cross my track with Edmond! You had -better rouse the sleeping tigress with her young in your arms. He shall -be mine! I have sworn it! One year ago, when I heard of his return from -Europe, and left everything, mother, sisters, friends, and came on to -this city, a thousand miles, alone and unprotected, that I might throw -myself in his way, I swore that he should be mine. I had watched his -career for years, from a distance, and he had grown to be my ideal. -When he became, first the pupil and then the expounder of the new -philosophy in France, I too became its student; with unwearied labor I -mastered its prodigious science, for I divined the purpose of the man. -I knew he must return to his own country, and become its exponent here, -and that then my time would come. - -“I studied the German, the French, and the Italian; with all which -languages I knew him to be familiar. I acquainted myself with the -literature of each, that I might be able always to speak with him in -the tongues and of the themes of which his long residence in Europe had -made the associations most pleasant. Armed thus, cap-a-pie, I have met -him at last, as I felt it was my destiny to do. - -“I have attracted him; I have all but conquered him. That man shall be -my lover! Ay, woman, he shall be my lawful husband! Cross my track in -any way, if you d-a-a-r-e! I know your arts; I will render them for -ever unavailing to you; I will explain them, and expose them. Cross -my track, then, if you d-a-a-r-e!” and, as she hissed out the words -between her teeth, she stooped forward and shook her finger in the face -of the now actually trembling woman. “Remember! our compact is, you let -me alone, and I will let you alone; you help me, I’ll help you; cross -me, I destroy you!” - -“Is that all?” murmured the woman, in a soft voice, opening her eyes, -which had been closed during the greater part of this tirade, while, at -the same time, the old obliquity became for a moment apparent. - -“Why, Jeannette, I never dreamed of any thing else. I would sooner cut -off my right hand than interfere with you, in any respect. Our two -courses are entirely different. You have one object and one species -of game to hunt down, while I have another. We shall not clash!” and -seeing the features of the other relax from exhausted passion, she -leaned forward with a pleasing smile. - -“Just to think, you stormy child! I had hastened home to tell you of my -good fortune, and you so overpower me as to make me forget all I had to -tell. You have frightened me sadly, Jeannette, and all about nothing. -But I’ve got him—I think he’s booked at last!” - -“Pooh!” said the other, sinking into a chair. “Well, I asked you ever -so long ago; how did you manage it? You seem to have had a great deal -more trouble this time than usual. He does not seem to have been very -civil to you heretofore, I should think.” - -“No!” said the other, in a low, hoarsened tone, while the blood mounted -in crimson flush to her _forehead_, _not_ to her cheeks. This nice -discrimination is very necessary to a true apprehension of such a -character. “No, he has acted like a sullen cub, heretofore, a perfect -young white bear, with his insolent pride, and clumsy haughtiness! He -is the most insulting and impracticable boor I ever took hold of!” - -“Ah! I perceive you are splenetic!” - -“No! It is simply annoying, that the insufferable fellow should give -me so much trouble. Why, only think, he positively refused to be -introduced to me—said I was a shallow adventuress, and that he did not -wish to know me—even when our Doctor Weasel went to him, with a special -request on my part for such an introduction!” - -“Oh, yes! but our Doctor is proverbially awkward in such matters. No -doubt he spoiled it all in the manner of the request.” - -“Well, but you know, if the Doctor is awkward, he’s got money, and as -long as he believes in Fourier and Swedenborg as devotedly as he does -now, we can use his purse. But to proceed: That sullen Southerner not -only refused to be introduced to me, in the most insulting terms, but -when I wrote him three or four of my most irresistible billet-doux, -that never failed before, he treated them with what I suppose he meant -to be silent contempt, for he did not answer one of them, though I had -taken the pains to place them all upon his table with my own hands, -during his absence, and find out all I could concerning him at the same -time. - -“I found the key-note, however; the boy loved his mother, and has been -playing hyæna with the rest of the world ever since she died, and been -endeavoring to imagine himself a misanthrope, with a life dedicated -since solely to the ambition of achieving, in her name, good for -mankind. This discovery, privately made, put me fully in possession -of all I wanted to know of his weakness. I saw he was earnest and -chivalrous, as his origin implies, and proudly secretive, so far as -the privacies of his life were concerned. So I at once felt that this -incrustation of reserve with which he had fenced about his life, could -only be broken down by a _coup de main_. - -“I determined to come down upon him, by surprise, in spite of -everything. I called on him, and sent our trusty Doctor up to bring him -to the parlor _per force_. The _ruse_ succeeded so far as to effect -an introduction; but, to tell you the truth,” and her forehead fairly -blazed while she spoke, “I never was treated with such insolent and -frozen hauteur in my life before! I went away with my ears tingling and -blood on fire, but I cursed him in my very heart, and swore to have a -woman’s vengeance! You remember how sick I was that night. Oh, God! -such furies as tortured me! I scarcely slept; but a happy thought came -to me just about morning. - -“He was a poet—his brow revealed that—but with characteristic sternness -he had yet published nothing which could be accounted the highest -expression of his inmost life. He had made his way in literature -rapidly and brilliantly through a novel combination of style, in which -the essential elements of prose and poetry were combined; but had never -yet ventured to associate his proper name with anything bearing the -forms of poetry. - -“Now, the Doctor had told me that the poem, under the soubriquet of -‘De Noto,’ in the last number of the Journal, was his, and it at once -flashed across me—appreciation! appreciation! The young poet has stolen -timidly forth, under disguise, with this myth clear from his soul! He -does not expect to be understood at once, and any prompt appreciation -will overwhelm him from the very suddenness of the thing; and in his -delighted surprise he would yearn towards the acknowledged devil -himself. - -“I sent him another note expressing that intense appreciation for -which I knew he was craving. He treated it with the neglect that he -had the others; but I somehow felt that I had made my mark. I called -this morning, and as I knew his contempt for mere conventional forms, I -ventured upon a dashing _ruse de guerre_. - -“I challenged him, for I knew his own personal hardiness, to take a -long walk through all the slop of the thaw. With a stare of surprise -he accepted it. I felt even then that my point was half gained. There -were people in the parlor, and my object was to get him alone with -myself. I felt that I had already touched one weakness, and my object -now was to arrest his chivalrous sympathies in behalf of my forlorn and -unprotected martyrdom to the cause of woman in her resistance to the -brutalities of the marital law, and her right of proclaiming to her -sisterhood the sanitary laws of health, in which they have been kept in -profound ignorance by the ‘profession.’ - -“At first, I arrested his attention by the daring of the position which -I had assumed, and then aroused his sympathies by a fervent relation -of the wrongs inflicted on me by my brutal husband. The story was old, -but I managed to throw into it a great deal of feeling, for there is -nothing like a tale of persecution to arrest chivalrous minds all over -the world. _We_ understand all these propositions as scientific! When I -parted with him he smiled upon me, for the first time, genially. I am -sure of him now!” - -“I should think you might be!” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - CLAIRVOYANT REVELATIONS. - - What see you there, - That has so cowarded and chased your blood - Out of appearance? - SHAKSPEARE. - - -In a good-sized, neatly-furnished apartment, of a large house in Bond -Street, about two weeks after the incidents which were related in -the last chapters, a group was assembled, about nine o’clock in the -evening, which consisted of Manton, the woman Marie Orne, her daughter, -and Dr. E. Willamot Weasel, of whom we have before spoken. - -The dark eye of Doctor Weasel glistened with benevolent delight as he -gazed upon the group, from which he sat somewhat apart. Manton was -seated on a chair near the glowing fire, with the mother on a low -stool on one side of him, and the daughter kneeling on the other, -while both with upturned reverential eyes drank in eagerly each word -that fell from his lips. They seemed to be enchained, enchanted, while -he spoke; and the mother, in the almost total speechlessness of her -rapt appreciation, could only venture to trust her trembling voice in -low, whispered exclamations; while the sad eyes of the impish-looking -daughter imitatively stared unutterable things. - -The woman’s subtle suggestiveness had roused the brain of Manton, -and fully drawn him out on his favorite themes; whatever of natural -eloquence he possessed, and he possessed much, flowed smoothly now, -for, in spite of himself, his frozen heart had been warmed by the -unwearying deference which he met with from these people. - -The lamps burned brightly, the hearth glowed, and the eyes of all were -bent upon him with genial warmth and admiring earnestness. The north -wind howled cold without, to remind him of the long, harsh “winter of -his discontent,” which had for ten weary years been unrelieved by any -approximation to a scene thus flushed with the sanctities of domestic -quiet. Manton always idealised woman—he idealised everything. He was a -poet. The very presence of woman was hallowed to his imagination. There -was a thrill of sweet fancies and gentle memories conveyed to him, in -the very rustle of a silken gown. He adored, he worshipped woman, as -she lived in his memory—the holy attributes with which he invested -her, penetrated and held him enchained in peaceful awe. He could not, -he dare not believe evil of her, if she bore the semblance of good, in -thought, or deed, or life. - -He had shrunk thus long from contact with her, not because this -interval of self-inflicted separation had been other than a weary -penance of yearning, but that his fastidious nature dreaded the -common contact, which might degrade or mar that ideal of love, which -woman personated to him, and in the worship of which he had found the -strength for brave deeds. - -It was the weakness, the petty flippancy, the commonplaceisms of woman, -from which he shrank. He believed that her spiritual strength should -equalise her with man’s physical strength in disregarding common fears, -paltry conventionalities, and contemptible topics. The miserable -skeleton of soul and body, which the world calls “woman of society,” -was more horrible to him, by far, than the actual contact with her -dry bones in a prepared skeleton would have been—for where one was a -comparatively pleasing object to his eye as a philosopher, the other -was but the painted, dim-eyed, ghastly spectre of a living death. - -There was in this woman, at least so far as he could judge, a total -abandon to her natural impulses, which seemed to utterly repudiate -those restrictions which are merely commonplace. This was refreshing to -him, from its novelty, at any rate, in contrast with the insipidities -he so much dreaded, although his taste had from the first been -constantly offended. - -Yet she seemed so utterly lawless and quietly defiant of what the -world, that works in harness, might say, he could not help respecting -her for it. It was a new thing in his life, to meet with a woman, -sufficiently heroic, to face the martyrdom that she was daring, for so -elevated and noble an aim as the emancipation of her own sex from the -conditions of utter helplessness, into which their ignorance of the -laws of life had sunk them. - -Besides, she had shown so much earnest patience with his rude pride, -had followed up its aberrations with such a matronly tenderness, -exhorting him only, and unceasingly, to be at rest—a rest, the need of -which his proud and fainting soul had confessed so often to his inward -consciousness. And then this fine appreciation—ah, where is the young -poet who can withstand appreciation? And then such delicate deference -in trifles! - -He had spoken incidentally of his taste in dress; and now the -mother and daughter were dressed in the most graceful and faultless -simplicity! The heart of Manton was touched. He felt grateful and -pleased with these strange Samaritans to him in a strange land. - -On a slight pause in the conversation, the woman, still gazing up -timidly into the face of Manton, changed the theme suddenly, by asking -him, - -“What do you think of Clairvoyance?” - -“The world is not old enough yet, by twenty years, I think, to answer -that question.” - -“My reason for asking the question, was, that I have some strange -premonitions myself, which I cannot explain. You will, no doubt, be -able to explain the mystery at once—” - -“Yes!” interrupted Doctor Weasel, eagerly, “do let us have you -examine the matter! Facts have come within my own knowledge, -concerning revelations which have been made by her, that are the most -extraordinary I ever knew. For instance, when she has been brought into -clairvoyant rapport with individuals whom she has never seen or heard -of before, she has revealed to them the whole history of their lives.” - -“This unexpected enunciation of their life-secrets to men, must of -course be productive of strange scenes occasionally,” said Manton, in a -tone which had suddenly become cold. - -“Oh, very curious and interesting! very curious!” exclaimed the Doctor, -quickly. “Marie, do relate to him that incident of the bloody hand, -that you have so often told me.” - -“Well,” said she, “it has been some years since that a number of my -friends, who knew of this gift of mine, were in the habit of inviting -me to their respective houses, to meet friends of distinction, who were -curious to observe the experiments, either upon themselves or upon -others. - -“On one occasion I was invited to meet a celebrated physician of this -city, whose reputation for purity of character and life was very high. -There were no parties present but my friend, this physician, and -myself. Such an arrangement, I afterwards understood, had been made at -the particular request of the physician himself, who desired that there -should be no other person present but his host at the interview. - -“When the physician placed his hand upon my head, as is the necessary -formula to bring me into spiritual communion with my interrogator, I -relapsed almost immediately into the syncope of the clairvoyant state, -and of course became entirely unconscious of what I uttered in that -condition. But our host, who was his most intimate friend, has given me -many times the following explanation of the scene:— - -“He says that when the physician placed his hand upon my head, I first -said from the sleep, ‘I am content! All is pure here—this is a holy -soul—one that is regenerate and will be saved!’ and then that while I -was recounting his many deeds of kindness to the poor and friendless, -and the rich, I suddenly shrank back, exclaiming, ‘Blood! blood! blood! -There is blood upon this hand! This soul is darkened now with blood! -Here is some fearful crime! Murder has been committed by this hand; -everything seems red beneath it!’ My friend says the doctor staggered -back as if he had been shot, on hearing this, turned pale as death, -and swooned on the floor; and after he recovered, acknowledged that he -had committed murder and fled from the consequences; the name by which -he was now known was an assumed one, and he implored his host not to -expose him to the penalty of the gallows by revealing these terrible -facts. - -“My friend, of course, did everything he could to relieve him on that -point, and assured him that he would never breathe the fact where it -could injure him; that the purity of his life for so many years had -cancelled the enormity of the crime, so far as society was concerned. - -“But in spite of all this, the wretched and guilty man left the house -in overwhelming despair, and the last I have heard of him was that he -had locked himself in his own house, and was killing himself with the -most unheard-of excesses in drinking brandy, to which vice he never -before had been addicted. - -“When I realised the tragic results of this fearful insight, with which -I seem to have been mysteriously endowed, my very soul was shaken with -sorrow; and since that time my spirit has wrestled in agonies of prayer -with God, that this poor child of crime and headlong vices might be -‘_saved_!’” - -As the woman uttered these last words, Manton recognised, for the -first time, and with a shudder, a peculiar obliquity of the left eye. -His soul was chilled within him; and for the moment, the light of the -glowing room was darkened as if the shadow of drear winter had passed -over and through it. - -Doctor Weasel exclaimed gaily, “Is not that extraordinary? I assure -you, I have myself witnessed things in connection with this power of -hers, quite as inexplicable, though happily not so tragic.” - -“It sounds strangely enough,” said Manton, shortly. - -“I assure you I have no means of accounting for these things,” said the -woman in a meek, deprecatory tone. - -“Suppose you demonstrate it, madam, in my case;” and a slight sneer, -which crossed the face of Manton, whose manner had entirely changed, -did not escape the hawk-like quickness of the woman’s eye. “My life, I -am willing to submit to the scrutiny of your inscrutable sense.” - -“Oh, by all means!” exclaimed Doctor Weasel, springing to his feet in -a paroxysm of delight. “Let us have the experiment, by all means! Do -please place your hand on the top of her head!” - -Manton turned, and with a bow most studiously deferential, seemed to -ask of the lady her permission to do so. - -“Oh, yes, yes,” and her head was bowed forward to meet his upraised -hand; while the daughter, who seemed to understand the thing, either -from previous experience, or from some private signal, rose from her -clinging position about his knee, and stepped back, leaving the two -alone, without other contact. - -In a few moments after the hand of Manton had rested upon the meek, -submissive head of the woman before him, she commenced exhibiting the -common and preliminary attitudes, muscular retchings of the throat, -nervous twitchings of the lips and limbs, accompanied by the apparently -palpable, organic changes, which are recognised to be symptomatic with -well-known conditions of the mesmeric sleep. - -Manton watched all these phenomena with the sharpest attention, and -then, as the lips began to move as if in inarticulate enunciation, he -leant forward over her, and asked— - -“What can you tell us of the soul, with which you are now in -communication?” - -After several preluding and spasmodic efforts to articulate sounds, the -Clairvoyant at length said, in a voice only distinct above a whisper— - -“I see light! all light!—pure, holy light. It fills the universe with -a mild radiance! I can see no blurs, no clouds in the foreground. I -can see only angels, seraphs, and seraphim, and all forms of light -revolving in the sphere of this mighty soul!” - -“Is there no evil there?” said Manton. - -“No, I see none; I see only white light.” - -“But look close—perhaps you might find something dark. Look long and -steadily into the world you visit—see if there be not clouds there.” - -There was a pause. The lips moved without articulation again; and again -Manton asked—“What do you see now?” - -“I see, I see, the light is parting on either side; out in the far -distance, between those walls of light, a giant form uprears itself in -shadow. Down the long vista stands this darkened giant. He is fierce -and stern, and wears a cold, hard front, with flaming eyes, that -scare the ministering angels all away. He strikes around him with the -imperious sway of his huge, knotted club, and all the bright forms -flee. He seems the savage Hercules of pride!” - -There is a pause; and after a stillness of some moments, Manton asked -again— - -“What now is the vision, to your sense?—is the giant gone?” - -“No, he is humbled but not subdued; and from afar behind him, down this -darkened vista, a light has grown up, like a rising star. It advances -slowly, rising over his head. The splendor increases as it comes. -Now, the dark and wrathful giant has fallen on his knees—the flood of -glory overcomes him. His club is dropped. His eyes, upturned in awe, -seem dimmed by the sudden glory of an angel’s presence. Ha! I see! the -features of that angel are like his whose soul I see! The giant is -subdued! His pride has bowed its forehead in the dust, before the angel -radiance of a visiting mother!” - -Manton felt his flesh creep as this was spoken, and as the Clairvoyant -paused for some moments, he asked: “What does this spirit of the mother -say?” - -The slow answer was— - -“She seems to rebuke this pride even more with her effulgence, and -to say, My son, I am with thee in the spirit, but I cannot be with -thee through the medium of the flesh which thou hast so poisoned and -corrupted, since I passed from thee into this higher sphere. Make -thy body clean and purify thy life, and I shall be always with thee -present, in the spirit. It is necessary for your usefulness in your -present life that you should accept of human sympathies. It is only -through such that you can establish a true community with the material -world of which you form a part. Accept human love—accept a moral -representative of myself—believe in the possibility of its chasteness -as well as utility, and you will yet be strong, powerful of good, and -happy.” - -Here Manton, who had become intensely excited during the progress of -this scene, removed his hand with a vehement gesture from the head of -the woman, and springing to his feet, seized his cap, and with scarce -the ordinary adieus, hastily left the room. He rushed hurriedly through -the dark storm, which careered along the street, muttering as he went:— - -“Eternal curses on this infernal woman! What can it mean? She dares -to speak of my mother again. Hah! does not this account for the -inexplicable disturbance of my papers in my trunk? Is it possible that -this can be the accursed and despicable wretch who has stolen into -the privacies of my life? But think, think! I may have been hasty. -This whole subject of Clairvoyance is an impenetrable mystery. That -strange story of the bloody hand has impressed me. For all we know, as -yet, such things may be within the possibilities of Clairvoyance. That -myth she uttered as if she were in a dream, was strangely significant -to me—supposing her to be ignorant of all my past life; and then -she seemed so patient, so disinterested, so gentle and so kind, so -matronly, so tender, and so heroic, too. I cannot altogether distrust -her, nor can I believe; I can only wait. I must see more; I must -know more; I must comprehend the whole. There is a something here I -cannot understand—a something betwixt heaven and hell, which I must -bide my time to fathom. Curses on all mysteries!” and, rushing onward -through the storm, like one hag-ridden, or pursued by stern, accusing -ghosts, the bewildered Manton soon reached his cheerless room, all -storm-drenched and depressed. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - THE PROUD MAN BOWED. - - Dim burns the once bright star of Avenel; - There is an influence sorrowful and fearful, - That dogs its downward course. - SCOTT. - - -Transparent as is the meaning of the foregoing scene, it conveyed to -Manton, who knew none of these things which have been revealed to the -reader, a tremendous shock. Mind and soul were thrown into chaotic -convulsions; he knew not what to think, or which way to turn for truth. - -Had the incident occurred but a short time previous, before his nature -had begun to be moved by generous sympathy and honest respect for this -loyal, persecuted, and indomitable woman; had it occurred before that -eventful walk through the slush of New York, he would have at once -turned upon her in freezing wrath, with the deliberate accusation -of having entered his room in his absence, and searched his private -papers, or else have merely sneered at it, as the accidental hit of a -reckless adventuress. - -But he had admitted her to his respect as a noble and unprotected -devotee. In a word, he had, as was usual with him wherever women were -concerned, idealised her into a heroine. Could he suspect her after -this? He rejected the weakness of such suspicion almost with terror. - -Had he known any thing of New York life; had he formed any relations -except those of a strictly business character; had he cultivated -acquaintances at all, who belonged to the city, and knew it, a few -inquiries might have settled all his doubts. But, alas! pride, pride, -that fatal pride! He knew nobody, he cared not for what any one said of -another. - -He had heard this woman violently abused at the dinner-table below, -to be sure; but then the character of the persons who had joined in -this cowardly vituperation was, to his mind, evidently such as to -prejudice him in her favor; for he had a proud way with him, which -never permitted him to judge of the absent by what was said of them, -but by _who_ said it. Taking these things together, he would have felt -ashamed to have asked any questions concerning the woman, of those -whose opinion and opportunities of knowledge he respected. - -If she had thrown herself upon him, it had been with perfect frankness, -and without any attempt at concealments. She had told him how she -was persecuted and slandered by ignorant women, because she had been -bold enough to tell them the truth about themselves. He had already -heard something of this, and the stories told were of precisely -such character as envious, vulgar, and malignant gossip circulates -about females who make themselves conspicuous by their virtues or -their talents. Besides, had he not, before he knew more of her, been -violently prejudiced, too? What more natural than that others should be -so, including these ignorant women? - -And then this wonderful Clairvoyance! Who can dare to say that he -believes nothing of its claims? He held its marvels and miracles in -great contempt, and firmly believed, that whatever of truth there was -would soon be unveiled of its apparent mystery by the close analysis -of science, and shown to proceed from purely natural laws, the exact -relations of which had not been heretofore understood. - -And then it might have been accident. Ah! and then it might have -been—what his thought had long struggled with, as the solution of all -such phenomena—it might have been sympathetic! a mere result of the -unconscious projection of his stronger vitality through a magnetic or -odic medium of sympathy, which had been instantly established through -the contact of his hand with the thin and sensitive region on the top -of her head. - -She might thus have been made to feel him intellectually, if not -spiritually; to _see_, through this sympathetic sense, those images -with which his brain was most full, and thus express this startling -outline of his life. - -Be those things as they may, he was restless and excited; his -imagination was aroused, his memory profoundly stirred. He was thus -fast hurried past the point where a cool analysis could well avail to -rescue him. Tossed to and fro by doubts and dark suspicions, which -a generous confidence strove hard to banish with its magnanimous -suggestions, backed by self-reliant pride; confounded with the fear of -acting with injustice towards a helpless female; with the fear, too, of -the soft pluckings at his heart, from those tender memories which she -had thus aroused by her offers of maternal sympathy—together with the -penetrating light and warmth of that genial and unlucky evening spent -with her, amidst the quiet of domestic surroundings—he could form no -conclusions, discriminate no clearly definite purpose—could only wander -to and fro, restless, in troubled, sad irresolution. - -A vague dread of evil in advance afforded apprehension of he knew not -what, that always, when the gloaming darkened most, seemed parted to a -tremulous, dim light, like summer coming through the morn, and made his -pulse go quicker, while those yearning memories faintly glimmered, as -if within a shaded reflex of the glowing day. - -He kept himself strictly secluded; yet, day by day, those dainty -missives crept in upon him by some mysterious agency. At first they -were read mechanically, and, amidst his troubled doubts, produced no -apparent effect; but, by and by, they grew more chaste, more delicately -worded, and more sweetly toned. - -Was it that they were really advanced upon the blundering specimens -we have seen? or could it be that his fancy had become excited with -regard to them—that he was merely idealising unconsciously? or was -it that those awkward first attempts at producing imitations of -the rhapsodical style peculiar to himself, which had so excited his -contempt, as obviously taken from the study of his writings, had now -been cunningly improved upon, since personal intercourse had afforded -his correspondent a closer insight of his purer and more simple forms -of expression? - -Had his haughty egotism been touched at last, by a skilful reflex of -himself, thrown shrewdly into his eyes, from the dazzling surface of -this snowy crow-quilled page? - -We shall see, perhaps. Here is the last that he received from her:— - - “MY POOR FRIEND—My heart yearns over you; I am oppressed with your - suffering, for I feel how you suffer yet—how you are struggling, by - day and by night, with those twin fiends of Doubt and Pride. I know - my letters soothe you, though they cannot heal. Had you not informed - me so, in your note, I should yet have been conscious of it. Had you - never written to me again, I should yet have known that the great deep - of your soul had been stirred at last, and that, though pride had - triumphed in the struggle, love, genial, human love, had yet found, - beneath the dark shadow of his wing, a warm resting-place once more - beside thy heart. - - No human aid can save thee now—that stiff neck must be bowed—you must - be humbled! Then will come the full influx of the light from heaven. - Then you will know joy and peace again—the pure raptures of a holy - rest will calm this dark, bewildering struggle. I pray for you without - ceasing—weary the throne with supplication that you may be humbled! - Your little sister sends you her tearful greetings—she weeps for you - with me always—for she dearly loves her tiger-brother. She says that, - like all terrible creatures, he is _so_ beautiful—oh, that he were - only good! - MARIE.” - -This letter strangely thrilled upon the already over-wrought -sensibilities of Manton, whose nervous organisation had been rendered -intensely susceptible by the protracted excitement under which he -had been laboring. He read it over and over again, with increasing -agitation, until it seemed, while his eyes suffused, as if the accusing -angel of his own conscience spoke to him in mild rebuke. - -Long he moaned and tossed—the dim moisture struggling all the while to -brim over those parched lids, that for years before had never known a -freshening. Those tearless lids—how rigid they had been! how bleak! -Like some oasis fountain where the hot simoon had drank!—Dry! dry! - -Suddenly, with a deep groan, the young man bowed his head upon his -hands, while the tears gushed between his fingers in a flood, that -seemed the more violent from its long restraint. His body shook and -rocked, while he gasped aloud— - -“It is true! It is true! This woman tells what is true! This sullen -pride has been the cause of all—I feel its crushing judgment on my -shoulders now! Great God! deliver us from this thraldom! Let me but -know my race once more! let me but weep when others weep, and smile -when others smile, and it will be to me for a sign that thou hast -received the outcast into the family of thy love, once more! Forgive, -oh, forgive me, that have so long held thy goodly gifts of earthly -consolation in despite! The worm’s presumptuous arrogance has but moved -thy pity, oh, thou Infinite One! Forgive! forgive! oh, let me feel that -countenance reconciled once more! Give back to my weary soul the holy -communion of thy creatures! Pity! Pity! Pity! Ah, there is a paradise -somewhere on the earth, for the most wayworn of her darkened children—a -rift in the sunless sky, a glittering point above the darkened waters! -Men are not all and totally accursed by their defiant passions. Pity -sends star-beams through the port-holes of the dungeon. Mercy comes -down on holy light of visions, where stars cannot get in. Oh, love, -Infinite Love! Thou art so powerful of penetration—come to me now!” - -For a long time he sat thus, while his frame shivered in voiceless -throes; when suddenly straightening himself, with a powerful effort, -and while the tears yet rained like an April shower, he drew towards -him his paper, and wrote— - - WOMAN—I know not what to call you—you have strangely moved me! In my - most desperate and sullen pride have I not struggled long with this - great blessing, which thou hast brought me! I would have driven the - good angel from me in wrath and scorn—but it would not be offended. - In patience and long suffering it has abided near, hovering on white - wings, until now, at last, the fountain has been troubled. Ah! woman, - its depths have been broken up, indeed—and the dark, long, unnatural - winter of my life, has felt the glowing breath of spring; and in one - mighty crash, the hideous ice-crusts that had gathered, heaping over - it, have burst away before the flashing leap of unchained waters. - Once more my soul is free—once more I smile back love for love into - the sunlight, and weep for joy—that God is good. Once more I feel as - if the earth were a holy earth, and its flowers, too, might grow for - me. Thou hast conquered! Thou hast conquered, woman! Thy pure and - chastened sympathies, thy gentle and unwearied pleadings, thy meek - compassion for the harsh and wayward boy, have conquered. The stiff - neck is bowed even now before God, and thee, his minister of good. - Ah! forgive and pity me! My eyes are raining so, I can scarcely see - to write. I am shaken as in a great tempest, body and soul. I could - weep at your feet in penitence, and pray to be forgiven and for pity! - Ah, that, I know you have! I am blinded with these tears—I know not - what I say! Oh, be to me what I have lost! I faint by the wayside; my - soul dies within me for that holy rest that I have lost—for the sweet, - calm and tender peace, all the holy memories your loving gentleness - has thus recalled. Ah, be to me all that you have thus filled me with, - anew! Receive me as your adopted child, that I may rest my throbbing - head once more in peace and joy, upon a sacred bosom. Be to me, - forever, “Marie, mother!” MANTON. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - DELECTABLE GLIMPSES BEHIND THE CURTAIN. - - Now, with a bitter smile, whose light did shine - Like a fiend’s hope upon her lips and eyne. - SHELLEY - - -Turn we now to that large and mysterious house, to which we have before -referred, near the corner of Broadway and Eighth Street. We will pass -the greasy lintels, into the wide and dirty entry, climb those five -flights of stairs, turn down the long, dark passage, and pause before -a door, just one beyond that which we have had occasion to remember in -the course of this narrative. - -We will take the liberty to enter. The scene presents the woman, Marie, -reclining on a lounge, holding a note in her hand, which she seems to -have read and re-read with a peculiar look of puzzled inquiry. - -The impish-looking daughter, to whom we have before referred, was -seated in a chair, behind the woman’s head, and out of her sight. The -creature seemed to have much ado to keep from laughing outright, for -her face was screwed into all sorts of contortions in the effort to -subdue it, as she peeped over her mother’s shoulder, and watched her -puzzled looks and bewildered gestures. - -“Well!” said the mother, as if speaking to herself, “if one could only -comprehend how he came to write this to me—it seems to contain a great -deal. Upon my word, it appears a beautiful snatch of rhyme, and to -convey quite a confession—only I don’t understand—it reads as if it -were an answer to something that had gone before.” She reads— - - Angels a subtler _name_ may know, - But not a subtler _thought_ of joy - Could thrilling through a seraph go, - Than that your presence brought to cloy - And weigh my life down into calm, - With an unutterable sense— - Like music perfumed with the balm - Of dews star-shed—all too intense! - -“Most too high-strung for my purposes, it must be confessed! He never -expresses any flesh and blood in his correspondence. Ah, well, I’ll -soon bring him out of that! But this really does puzzle me! This is all -the note contains.” She turns the note to examine it. “It is certainly -in his hand, yet he makes no explanation.” - -Here the child, whose blood seemed ready to burst through her face in -the continued effort to restrain her laughter, tittered aloud. The -mother sprang erect, and, turning upon her with an expression of rage -and surprise upon her face— - -“What! Why, what are you laughing about? What business is this of -yours, pray?” - -The child, although evidently a little frightened, had so entirely lost -her self-control as to be unable to restrain the bursts of laughter -which now followed each other, peal upon peal, as she danced about the -room in a perfect ecstacy of glee. - -The mother’s face turned first pale and then red, as she followed the -motions of the child with her eye, until at last, with the expression -of an infuriate tigress, she sprang to seize her. The child was too -quick for her, and with the agility of a monkey, darted from beneath -her grasp; and still shrieking with laughter, was pursued around the -room—leaping the furniture with an airiness that defied pursuit—which -her strange, wild laugh yet taunted. - -The woman, after exhausting herself in vain attempts at catching -her, sank upon the lounge—and at once, in a whining, fretful voice, -commenced to pour upon the head of the child, the most inconceivable -and galling epithets. So long as this tone was held, the child held -out in defiant spirit, either of sulking obstinacy, or of harsh and -irritating laughter, and to every reiterated question from the angry -mother—“What are you laughing at? What do you mean?”—she only clapped -her hands and danced more wildly to her elfin mirth. - -The mother now changed her tone of a sudden, in seeming hopelessness of -carrying her point by storm. She began to sob violently, and turning -with streaming eyes towards the child— - -“You—you tre-treat your poor mother very cruelly to-day; I am dying -to know what it is you mean; but you will not tell me! Please, dear, -come and tell poor mother why you laugh, what it is you mean, and what -you know about this letter?—for I am sure you know something—do tell -poor mother, and she will forgive you all! Come, dear child!” and she -reached out her hand as if to clasp her to her bosom. - -The child, who seemed to have no intellectual comprehension of the -meaning of all this, but to have taken a purely impish delight in -watching the confusion and puzzle of her mother, in regard to the -letter at first, and then instantly, when she flew into a rage, to -have answered in a monkeyish and hysterical rage, on her own part; now -at once, with equal promptness, and with the common instinct of young -animals, responded to the tender inflections of the maternal voice. - -Dropping her whole previous manner, she instantly sprang forward and -knelt at her mother’s side. The mother did not speak for some moments, -but silently caressed her, placing her hand frequently on her head, the -top of which she fondly stroked with a tenderness that seemed to linger -there. She drew the child’s face to hers too; and although she seemed -to kiss it frequently, it might have been observed that she breathed -deep and heavy exhalations upon different portions of it, which she -only touched with her lips. - -The effect was magical beyond any power of expression. The hard, -ugly, animal lines of that child’s face, which had been writhed and -curled but a few moments before, in every conceivable expression of -most ignoble passions, at once subsided into the meek and suppliant -confiding of that inexplicable and most tender of all the relations -known to the animal world, mother and child! - -“Dear, why did you not tell me what you knew about this letter before?” -said the mother, in a tone as musically reproachful as if she dallied -with her suckling babe. The child buried her head in her mother’s -bosom, and after a silence of some time, during which her mother -industriously stroked the top of her head, she looked up, and in a sly, -bashful tone exclaimed— - -“I did it just for fun, to try how writing love-letters went—I copied -the verses from a book, in your hand, and sent them to him as yours!” - -Scarcely were these words uttered, than the languishing and -tender-seeming mother hurled the child from her, backwards, upon -the floor, with a violence that left her stunned and prostrate, and -springing to her feet, raged round and round the room, as only a -feminine demon infuriate could be imagined to do, spurning now and then -with her foot, as she passed, the still senseless form of her own child! - -Hell might find an equal to this whole scene, but hell has always been -too civil! It is enough! This is jealousy! That woman is jealous of her -own child! and _she_ only thirteen years old! - -How long she might have raged and raved, and to what consequences it -might have led, heaven can only judge. Providentially, perhaps, a knock -at her door announced the postman. She clutched the letter she received -convulsively, and tearing it open, the instant he closed the door, -read—what? The letter of Manton, which we saw in the last chapter! - -She read it through, standing where she had received it—her eyes -dilating, and her whole form changing. She literally screamed with joy -as she finished the letter, and clapped her hands like one bewildered -with a sudden triumph. - -“Ah, ha! I have him! I have him! He is mine henceforth! He cannot -escape me now!” and her oblique eyes fell upon the motionless child -upon the floor. “The little fool!—she catches my arts too soon—she is -not hurt—but I must help her.” She moved towards the child, but the -demoniac triumph which possessed her seemed irrepressible. She bounded -suddenly into the air, and almost shrieking aloud as she did so— - -“I have conquered—I have conquered him at last!” came down like a -statuesque Apollyon transfixed in exultation. It was a horrible glimpse -of unnatural triumph! It lasted but for a moment; for, with a sudden -drooping of the usually stooped shoulders, as she turned towards the -letter again, she said, thoughtfully, - -“This will not do—he perseveres even here in talking about mother! -mother! and chaste! and holy! and all that sort of thing. The foolish -boy is too much in earnest. I have used this stuff about long enough. I -must find the means of bringing him gradually around. Such a relation -as the silly fellow desires won’t do between _us_—we are both too -full of life! Oh, I’ll write him a note at once that will prepare the -way—will break up the ice, as he calls it, still more about his life!” - -She raised the child, which had been stunned by the fall, and -sprinkling some water upon her face, which caused the first long -breathing of recovery, she laid her upon the lounge, muttering, as she -did so, “The meddlesome little fool! She must do everything she sees -me do! She must imagine herself in love with every one whom she sees -me pretend to love. She must write love-letters when she sees me write -them, and heaven only knows what she won’t do next with her monkeyish -imitation! But I can’t be crossed by a child so, if she is my own. Lie -there until you get over the sulks—you are not much hurt!” - -She turned away from the child and seated herself at the table, -exclaiming, as she seized her pen, “Ah! this letter! I feel that I -shall need all my skill and wit to word this properly, so as not to -alarm him. In his present excited and hysterical mood, the veriest -trifle would have the effect of driving him off, at a tangent, -forever beyond my reach. And yet it will not do to let things go on -in this way; for I see that that idea of the motherly relation, if -once permitted to become settled in his mind now, will remain a fixed -barrier, which I shall never be able to pass on earth. I must see him -to-night, and take advantage of his present over-wrought, ecstatic, and -bewildered condition, to break down this boyish dream of his! Bah! to -think that he should have taken me to be so much in earnest in all that -first twattle about motherly relations, which I found necessary to use -in order to get at him at all! Pity my correspondence hasn’t warmed him -up a little by this time! I’ve tried hard enough, to be sure, but the -queer fellow will persist in etherealising everything!” - -During this soliloquy, the child, who had entirely recovered, lay -perfectly still, with sharpened attention, catching every word that was -spoken. There was an eagerness in her eye which showed her to be, if -not an apt scholar of such teachings, at least a very attentive one. -The woman wrote:— - - “’Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name! thy kingdom - come, thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven!’ My soul is deeply - moved for thee in this thy time of trial. The good God chasteneth thee - now—now is the hour of thy great tribulation come; now thy life-demons - wrestle in thee, with the love, the good the Father has sent to redeem - thee. Be strong! Ah, be strong even now, thou child of many sorrows, - and thou shalt yet find grace and peace in acceptance with Him. - Meanwhile I can but pray for thee and with thee. I weary Heaven with - supplications, that out of this travail a great and glorious soul may - be born in the humility of love, for light, eternal light. - - “Come to me this evening, that I may take that throbbing heart upon - my bosom. I may soothe and calm you, but I cannot give you rest—rest - comes only from the Father! You ask me to be for you, forever, - ‘Marie, mother!’ I can be to you, forever, your _friend_ - MARIE.” - -“Ah! ha! that will do it!” she said in a low chuckling tone, as she -rapidly folded and directed the letter; “though he might take the -alarm at this if he were cool, yet there’s no danger now! It will no -doubt shock him a little, but he has learned to believe in me, and in -his present excited state he has deified me almost into an object of -worship; and any suspicion he might feel he would only blame himself -for. Ah! this will do! it shall go instantly! Here!” she said, turning -sharply to the child, “Here! get up there, put on your bonnet, and take -this letter! You know how to deliver it, and where! Come, up with you!” - -“But, mother,” said the child, as she slowly lifted herself half-erect, -“I don’t feel like it—I’m not well! You hurt me!” - -“Nonsense!” said the mother, harshly; “go take a bath, and do it -quickly too! You’ll feel well enough! This letter must go, and shall -go! Get along, I say, and do what I tell you!” - -The child dragged herself slowly out of the room. - -“That little wretch will torment me to death!” - -The letter was despatched and reached its destination. - -Manton, whose excitement had continued, without the slightest -diminution, to return upon him, in paroxysm after paroxysm, seized upon -this last letter with the famishing eagerness of a man who looks for -strength—for spiritual consoling. He read it with suffused and swollen -eyes; he scarcely saw what he read, so much had his vision been dizzied -and obscured by weeping. But those last words did indeed shock and -thrill him. He was strangely startled, and for a moment they seemed to -open to him an appalling and terrific gulf of falsehood, more hideous -than yawning hell. - -We say, it was but for a moment; but in that little space the blackness -of darkness overcame his soul. A shuddering of dread, of doubt, of -fear, and all that horrid brood, the birth of rayless and unutterable -gloom, passed over him convulsively, and then the whole was gone. He -had been too intensely wrought upon by the ecstacies of Faith. He shook -off, by one great throe, the giant shadow of its natural enemy, this -Doubt, which he now conceived had so long made his life accursed; and -the rebound, by a necessary law, carried him to a yet greater and more -unreasoning extreme of trust, and unquestioning confidence in this -woman, as under God the instrument and medium for restoring him once -more to life and the world. - -He at once determined to visit her, and prove to his own soul the -falsehood of these dark suspicions of the being who had thus moved and -spoken his inmost life for good. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - REMORSE. - - -The evening was closing in when Manton made his way through a heavy, -drifting snow-storm, to the number of the new address, near the corner -of Broadway and Eighth Street, which had appeared upon the last notes -of his correspondent. He was only made aware, thereby, that she had -changed her residence from the rooms where he had visited her in Bond -Street, and had thought no more about the matter; for it would have -somewhat damped his enthusiasm, or rather have made him furiously -indignant, to have been told that the woman he was visiting, with such -sublimated sentiment, usually found means to adapt her rooms to the -purpose and business in hand. - -He was too much excited and pre-occupied to notice the significant -appearance of the entry, further than to feel its dreariness, as he -rang the bell and waited an unreasonable time for admission. The door -was wide enough open to be sure, but he was not sufficiently initiated -into the mystery of such places to understand the meaning of this -exactly, even if it had been possible for it to have excited his -attention, in the then absorbed and abstracted condition of his whole -faculties. - -A negro servant at length made his appearance, and approaching him -closely, answered his inquiries in a tone so insolently confidential -that under other circumstances he would surely have been in danger of -a flooring at the hands of Manton, who, however, only passed on up -the stairs with a feeling of annoyance, the cause of which he made no -attempt at apprehending. He ascended three steps at a bound, and in a -moment tapped lightly at the door. - -A soft voice, “Come!” was the response. The door flew open. - -“Yes! yes! I come! Ah, Marie, mother, it must be so!” And dropping his -cloak and hat upon the floor, he sprang forward to the woman, who, with -her pale face beaming with unnatural light, was seated upon a lounge, -where she seemed to have been awaiting him. - -“My poor friend!” and she stretched forth her arms towards him. He laid -his head upon her bosom, while his whole frame shivered violently, and -he sobbed forth— - -“Ah, blessed mother, let me rest here! My brain is bursting! I am -become as a little child again! Ah, I am so weak! A wisp of straw would -bind me! My own vaunted strength is gone—all gone! I have no pride, -no scorn, no defiance now! My lips are in the dust! Ah, I am humble, -humble, humble, now! Do thou, incarnation of that angel mother who -has passed from earth, adopt me for thine own! Thine own, poor, lost, -bewildered, panting child!” - -“My poor friend, be calm!” and she caressed his wet cheek lightly with -her fingers. “Only be calm, and God will give you strength to pass -through this valley and shadow of trial.” - -“God gave me strength!” said he, with a sharp and sudden change of -tone, raising his head slightly to look in her face. “Woman, he gave -me strength when he gave me life! I have strength enough, as men call -it, to move the world, aye, to wield Fate itself. It was not for such -strength I came to you. It was not for such strength I would condescend -to plead to mortal. It is for that soft and beautiful presence that -liveth in immortal freshness, the spring-flower of the heart, beneath -the moveless outstretched wing of Faith. Faith in our own kind. Faith -in what is true and chaste in the purposes and charities, which, widely -separate from the sensuous and the passionate, constitute all the blest -amenities of intercourse between the sexes. ’Tis not that I would ask -you to be _all_ my mother, for that could not be; but that you should -impersonate to me that calm joy, that serenity of repose in which I -lived so long, upon a troubled earth, through her. It was she to whom -I turned when the world buffeted and baffled me, to renew upon her -bosom my faith in my fellows, and it was upon that sacred resting-place -that I alone found soothing. She reconciled me to endure. She subdued -my rebellious heart. She saved me from actual madness; aye, from the -strait-waistcoat and the chain, when my brain was like to burst from -throbbings that sounded like a thousand wild steeds thundering frantic -over echoing plains; for the conflict was most fearful, when my young -soul first arose to grapple with the world and its huge evils. In -my impotent wrath I should have dashed myself to atoms against its -moveless battlements of wrong, but that a low, sweet voice would quell -and hold me back. - -“I was the child of much travail, and years of weary and desponding -watchfulness. I alone, of all her children, bore her features—she loved -me unutterably, and shielded me always; it was not like the common -love of mother for her child. In all things concerning me she seemed -to be filled with a strange prescience—she read my inmost thought as -if it were her own—as if it were a scroll made legible by illuminated -letters. She seldom asked me questions, but simply told me what had -happened. It was useless to attempt disguises with her; ministering -in the flesh, she was my present angel, reconciling me to life; and -when she passed from me and the world, I first realised what darkness, -death, and separation meant. - -I was delirious I know not how long—for they seemed slowly tearing -my heart out by the roots, chord by chord, with a heavy drag, until -the last one snapped, and then I went into deep oblivion, from which -I awoke a man of stone, so far as sensation went; and if stone could -walk, with no more heart than it—or rather if you can imagine this -walking statue moulded of the red lava, and only cooled upon the -surface, you can better conceive the smouldering, heart-devouring chaos -in which my life now moved among my fellows. I did not stop to curse -and battle with my old foes, I only hated them with a liquid flame -of scorn that found its level in me and was still. I would not harm -them—no, not I—I wanted them to live for companionship in suffering. I -gloried in their perversions—they filled me with ecstasy. I could not -but add to them, and in ferocious delight threw myself into all the -excesses and extremes that demonise the world. - -“But ambition came to rescue my dignity at last, and of its iron -despotism you have seen the worst. From its hard and meagre thraldom -you have released me for the time, but it remains with you to hold me -free. The wings that have borne me thus far on this bold upward flight -must feel the soft freshening of the breeze and the glad welcoming of -sunlight, to the purer realm they try, or flagging soon of the unwonted -effort, they will sink again to seek the old accustomed sullen perch. -The strength I need now is a subtler thing than any power of will -within myself—purer than the breath of angels, it is chaste and mild as -star-beams. - -“It is you who have filled me with these yearnings—’tis to you that I -look for their realisation, and yet you have not accepted that pure and -holy relation conveyed in the ‘Marie, mother,’ I have named you, and -plead with you to recognise.” - -During all this time the face of the woman had been bowed so close to -that of Manton that she seemed almost to touch with her lips, first -his temples and then his cheek. A close observer would have perceived, -in her long and deep inspirations, her slightly parted lips and the -slow creeping movement of the head, that she was steadily breathing -upon certain well-known and highly sensitive nerves. The brain of -Manton was too full to notice this strange manœuvre; but while he -talked, that hot breath had been sending soft thrillings through his -frame, which, at first unobserved, had gradually grown more palpably -delicious, until, as he ceased to speak, he found his whole frame -literally quivering with passion. - -He was silent for a moment, that he might fully realise the sensation, -and then, with a shudder of horror, sprang away from contact with the -woman, exclaiming— - -“My God! what is this? What an unnatural monster am I! or”—as a sudden -gleam of suspicion shot through his brain—“Woman, is it you who have -done this?” His face darkened in an expression of rage and ferocity -which was absolutely hideous, as his eye glanced coldly on her. - -“I ask you, woman, was it some infernal art of yours? Answer me!—for, -by the Eternal God, you shall never thus tamper with the sacrednesses -of a true man’s heart again!” and, grinding his teeth, he approached -her menacingly, as if, in his blind rage, he would rend her to atoms. - -The woman had taken but one glimpse of the terrible face before her, -and then shrunk bowed and crouching into the corner of the lounge. Her -neck and forehead flushed crimson, spasmodic retchings of the throat -commenced, and when Manton stretched forth his hands, as if to clutch -her, there was a deep suffocating cough, and the red, warm blood gushed -in an appalling current from her mouth, bedabbling his fingers and her -clothing. - -The man was startled from his rage into immeasurable terror, as he -shrank back with upraised hands— - -“My God! I have killed—I have killed her by my brutal violence! I am -accursed! I am accursed for ever! I have slain the white dove of peace -they sent to me from Heaven!” Snatching a towel, he was on his knees by -her side in an instant; and placing it within her bloody hands, which -were clutched upon her mouth, as if to stay the fatal tide, he burst -into an agony of tears, praying in frantic accents to be forgiven; for -he could see nothing but immediate death in a hemorrhage so violent -as this seemed, and he remembered now, but too vividly, how often she -had told him of her melancholy predisposition to such attacks from the -lungs, by which she was kept constantly in expectation of being carried -off. - -Ah, with what fierce remorse, what agonised penitence, all these things -came up to him now, as gush after gush of crimson saturated the towel! -In answer to his prayers for forgiveness, she at last reached one cold, -bloody hand to his, pressing it gently. - -And now his self-possession was immediately restored. His only thought, -at first, had been forgiveness before she died; now he thought alone -how to save her. Strange, he did not once think of giving the alarm, -and sending for medical aid; for he instantly felt the case was one -beyond the reach of ordinary remedies, and one in which the most -perfect restoration of both the moral and physical natures to absolute -repose could alone avail. - -He reached another towel from the toilet-table, on which he found, -by the way, abundant supply, which, innocently enough, seemed to him -remarkably _apropos_; then, seating himself by her side, he endeavored, -by the use of all tender epithets which could be applied, to soothe and -calm her. She suddenly seized his right hand and placed it upon the top -of her head, and from that moment he thought he could faintly perceive -an increase of his control over the more violent symptoms of the case. - -More than half an hour of harrowing suspense had passed, before the -paroxysm of bleeding had so far subsided as to enable him to breathe -more freely; but even when the bleeding had at length entirely ceased, -a long period of coma, or deathlike sleep, induced by exhaustion, and -suspended sensation, supervened, during which he continued to watch her -with the most painful anxiety, still holding his right hand upon her -head, while, with the other, he clasped the fingers of her left hand as -she had requested. As she immediately showed signs of restlessness on -his attempting to remove either hand, he felt himself compelled to sit -thus, without change of position, for several hours, awaiting whatever -might occur. - -And, finally, after a slight stirring of the limbs, she suddenly opened -her eyes upon his, and smiled with a clear, sweet smile, rather of -pity and affection than of forgiveness or reproach. He felt his heart -bound within him, and he could only utter, in a low tone, “The good God -be blessed! I have not killed you! Oh, I will never be ugly and cruel -again! I will be your good boy now, always!” - -“Yes, yes,” she said in a clear, firm voice, “you were very naughty; -but I am strong again now. You will never speak harshly to me again, -will you? Lean here, my beautiful tiger; let me feel that fierce cheek -upon my bosom once more. You have suffered, too; I must soothe you.” - -Manton, who, by this time, had become thoroughly exhausted, bowed his -head lightly towards her, in obedience; but he leaned it rather upon -the cushion than her person. - -It was now near twelve o’clock, and the man was literally worn out by -the long and violent excitements which we have traced. Body, soul, and -sense, utterly collapsed, the moment his head found a resting-place, -into a deep sleep. - -The lamp burnt low; there was not another sound to disturb the dimmed -silence of that room, but the heavy breathings of Manton. But even -that murky light was sufficient to disclose the figure of the woman -stooping, as before, close to the face of the sleeper. Slowly her lips -crept over, without touching it, lingering here and there, while her -chest heaved with deep inspirations. You could not see, had you been a -looker-on, the slight parting of the lips, nor could you have felt the -heated furnace of her breath play along the helpless surface of those -prostrate nerves; but you might have seen an eager, oblique glitter in -her eye, that grew the stronger while the darkness thickened, as ghouls -look sharper out of graves they have uncovered. But then, had you been -patient, you would have seen, as the hours went by, a gradual twitching -of the nerves possess that deathlike frame—a restless motion, a moan, -an all-unconscious smile of ecstatic delight; and then, if your sense -was not frightened and appalled by the fierce, swift blaze from those -still eyes above, a fiend’s triumph would be all familiar to you. - -Alas! alas! will that young man wake sane? The owner of those -glittering eyes seems to know; for hark! in her exceeding joy she -whispers aloud, “He is mine now! See how his nerves vibrate. I was -right in choosing this time of great prostration. I am scudding along -those nerves like a sea-bird on currents of the sea; all that is animal -in him is mine now. He is mine at last—the insolent tyro! I shall drag -him down from his vaulting self-esteem; I shall humble him; I shall -degrade him. Ah, ha! I shall feed upon him!” - -There may be retribution on earth or in heaven. We will let that dark -night’s history rest! - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - “TO-MORROW.” - - -It would be well for sinners were there no to-morrow. At least it -would be well for them so far as impunity in the enjoyment of sin was -concerned. But it may not be; the inevitable time of reaction must -follow that of excess, the wages of which are remorse. - -The effect of that to-morrow upon poor Manton was fearfully crushing. -At first he dared not think—the horrid realisation would have slain -him. He dared not look up, lest he should see the great height from -which he had fallen. He dared not hear the voices within him, or above -him, lest they should blast his sense. He shrank from the sunlight, -as though each ray were a fiery arrow, to cleave hissing through his -brain. He dared not look his fellow-man in the face, lest he should -see the mark upon his brow, call him accursed, and spit upon him. The -innocent eye of childhood was the most dreaded basilisk to him; and the -face of a pure woman made him shrink and shudder in affrighted awe. His -shadow seemed a spectral mockery to him, for it no longer glided with -him, straight and firm, but was bowed, and crept sneaking after. - -The burden of a hundred years had fallen upon the young man’s shoulders -in one fatal night—a ghastly, loathsome burthen of self-contempt—his -face had grown old; his eyes lost their proud fire; his lips, their -firm expression; there was no longer any “aspiration in his heel.” The -haughty, bounding self-reliance, the unflinching, upward look, were -gone! gone! Manton had lost his self-respect. - -Ah, fearful, fearful loss, that it is! There was a leaden desperation -in the man’s whole air that was shocking, even to those who had never -seen him before. There was no bravado in it—it was sultry, slow and -self-consuming—shrank from observation, and burned inward. - -He neither sought nor found any palliation for himself. He blamed no -one else; his pride would not permit him to confess to himself that he -had been unduly influenced, or that any unfair advantage had or could -have been taken of him. No, it was his own fall. His own grossness had -profaned those associations which he had stupidly deluded himself, for -years, into supposing to be really sacred things in his life. He had -rendered himself, thereby, unfit for Heaven, unworthy Earth, too base -for even Hell. - -His first sullen recourse was to the wine-cup, that he might numb the -unendurable agonies. He drank to monstrous excess; but, no, it would -not do; that cold burning, as of an ice-bolt through his heart and -brain, lay there still, in the two centres. He sought and found men -like himself, with great thoughts and stricken hearts; like himself, -brain-workers; and in the fiercest orgies of desperation, hours and -hours were spent without attaining to one moment of the coveted -oblivion. - -The evening had long set in among such scenes, when a note was suddenly -thrust into his hand from behind, and as he turned his head, he saw a -boy hastily making his way through the thronged room. This movement had -not been observed by his noisy companions—he hastily concealed the note. - -He had recognised the superscription with a feeling of deathly -sickness, for which he could not clearly account. It was as if the -fresh wounds were all to be torn open again. - -He soon after found an opportunity to withdraw beyond observation, and -opened the note, which contained only these words:— - - MY FRIEND:—why have you left me all day? come to me—I am dying. - MARIE. - -The sheet was bespattered with blood. Manton nearly fainted. Recovering -himself in a moment, he muttered, “Infernal brute that I am! to have -neglected the poor, frail creature thus—after last night, too! May God -forgive me, for I shall never forgive myself!” He hurried from the room. - -The scene, on reaching her apartment, was, as may by this time be -expected, ghastly enough. But as we have seen a little more of these -horrid bleeding scenes than Manton has, we will refrain from another -description of one, since we have found that they only differed in the -intensity of effect and degree in the precise ratio of the results to -be attained. In this instance she had not reckoned without her host. - -Manton, who never dreamed of suspecting her, and had been fully -impressed with the belief that these attacks were fearfully dangerous, -and that the magnetism of his touch, whether imaginary or otherwise, -could alone suffice to restore her to the calmness necessary for the -arrest of the hemorrhage, felt as if an awful responsibility had been -suddenly devolved upon him, as he thus apparently held the very life of -this singular woman in his own hands. - -This impression had been consummately fixed upon the mind of Manton -by her obstinate refusal to permit the presence, at their interviews, -of any third person, not even that of her own child. She could thus, -through his generous humanity, most effectually draw him to her side; -and, when once in her reach, he was again in the power of those fearful -arts, of which we have seen something. - - * * * * * - -The life of Manton became now a succession of the “to-morrows” of -remorse. Each new sun arose upon its succeeding scene of wilful, -self-degrading excess, such as we have witnessed. He never permitted -himself to grow fully sober, but drank incessantly—morning, noon and -night. But that the wines he chose were comparatively light, and -less rapidly fatal than the heavier and more dangerous drinks of our -country, he must have, undoubtedly, destroyed his life, as he did his -business reputation. - -He still wrote brilliantly—nay, even with a fierce and poetic dazzle -of style that surprised men greatly, and added much to the notoriety, -if not to the solidity of his reputation. But everything went wrong -with him. His purse was regularly drained by a remorseless hand; his -wardrobe fell into neglect, and the marks of excess upon his fine, -proud features, were at once rendered conspicuous by their association -with almost seedy habiliments. - -Before one year had passed he had begun to exhibit himself before men, -in the pitiable light of one who had more pride left than self-respect. -In a word, he had fallen fully into the toils of the hellish Jezabel. - -Remember, in judging of poor Manton, that while he is hoodwinked, -through much that is most noble in him, _we_ see this woman through -the strong light of day. He looks upon her as a devotee of science, -in the holy cause of human progress and social amelioration. A poet -and enthusiast, his life is dedicate to both. He regards her as a -frail being, whose life hangs by a thread, and that thread held in his -own hand—degraded into a false relation to himself—a relation which -he loathes, to be sure, and which he feels to be heavily and swiftly -dragging him downward, every instant, while it lasts, but which he -dare not utterly break, for the fear that that frail thread of life, -of which he has so strangely become the holder, should be snapped. -He has only seen her, through her representations of herself; and -therefore, all that is chivalrous and tender in him has been aroused in -her defence, as the white roe, hunted into his strong protection for -defence against the demon hounds of New England bigotry, jealousy, and -fear. Apart from all other considerations, these were sufficient to -compel an utter negation of self, in all that related to her, as well -as a hasty dismissal of those suspicions that might thrust themselves -upon him. - -A house, in the meantime, had been taken for her in Tenth Street, -for the rent of which Manton and the benevolent Doctor Weasel were -to become jointly responsible. But the woman was far too astute -to permit any such entanglements as might lead, prospectively, to -mutual explanations between her victims. The Doctor alone ultimately -became her endorser for the rent. She had other designs upon the less -plethoric purse of Manton. - -In entering upon this arrangement, Manton had been induced to believe, -by her own representations, that for ten years before the name of -Preissnitz had been heard of on this continent, this woman had been -practising water-cure among her women patients. Manton had been -sufficiently educated in the profession, to understand that its general -pretensions were essentially empirical. He was too much an Indian, -indeed, and had lived too much among Indians, to regard anything beyond -the simplest natural agents as efficiently curative. He therefore -recognized what Preissnitz had discovered, as simply confirmatory of -his experience of the usages of savage life, and his own observation so -far as it went. It contained not to him any more than any other pathy, -the essential _vis medicatrix_ of nature; but it seemed good to him, -because it was new to the popular sense, and was well worthy to be -urged upon its recognition, and thus to find its proper place among the -other systems. - -He entered upon the project with the fullest enthusiasm, for this woman -seemed to him, from her personal habits and untiring energy, to be -specially set apart to preach the crusade of physical cleanliness to -her sex. The house was therefore occupied by her as proprietress and -female physician, while Manton, Doctor Weasel, the fiery Jeannette, and -victimised Edmond, of a former scene, occupied respective chambers as -boarders, and patrons of the new enterprise. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - A DIVERSION. - - Never did moon so ebb, or seas so wane, - But they left Hope-seed to fill up again. - HERRICK. - - -But even in the black abysses of the hell down which he had fallen, -a flower could grow to the eye of Manton. It was the strange birth -of a wizard evil place; yet, as it spread beneath his nourishing eye -and hand, it daily grew more beautiful to him. It may have been the -unconscious contrast of a something young, living, and blooming in -an unnatural sphere like this, where he, with the sudden weight of -centuries upon him, breathed with such heavy gasping. He could not -tell what it was that thickened this drear air; he only felt the -oppression on his lungs, and shuddered when sleep had partly sobered -him, and he could realise it for the hour. His sympathies had been -first touched for that ugly, impish, persecuted child, to which we -have frequently referred, because he saw, at once, that the mother’s -querulous jealousy was forever subjecting it to a species of covert -torture, which kept it always haggard and wretched. Had it been a -sick and neglected kitten on the hearth, he would have felt for it -the same kind of sympathy. He accordingly noticed and caressed the -child, and endeavoured to rouse its low, ignoble frontal region into -activity. The response of a hungry and vivid animality, surprised him -with its aptitude of apparent intelligence. He did not understand -that marvellous faculty of imitation which, in all the animal tribes -approximating man, or which, in other words, are born with embryo -souls, assumes the external semblances of intelligent expression. The -faculty of music is below man, and common both to bird and beast; and -he had yet to learn, to his heavy cost, how a perception and detection -of the physical harmonies of sound may be utterly distinct from the -spiritual comprehension of their meaning. He had yet to fearfully -realise how this insensate aptitude of harmony, which enables the -monkey of the organ-grinder to dance in perfect time the most wild and -rapid strathspey that ever Highland pibroch rung, or a stupid parrot -to whistle the divinest strains of Mozart, could yet bestow upon the -combined parrot and monkey of our own race that semblant mockery of the -“gift of tongues,” the use of the soul’s higher language. In a word, -he would have been greatly shocked to hear the affiliated Poll and -Jocko talk down Shelley in his own etherealisms, and appal Byron with -the mad bravado of forgotten lines from his own reckless and besotted -misanthropy. - -Poll and Jocko are easy enough to detect through all the human -disguises of their combined powers, if the man of common sense and -society meets the impersonation for the first time, when developed, -or in most of the latter stages of development. But it was a very -different thing with poor Manton, who only saw an undeveloped, abject -animal, from which he expected little but the gratitude of the brute -for protection, and from which anything like a vivid response was as -surprising as it was unconsciously gratifying to his egotism, for the -reason that all that was really pleasurable in it was owing to the fact -of its constituting a close reflection of his own mind. - -Gradually the feeling took possession of him, as he observed in her an -excessive sensibility, that could weep at a moment’s warning, and laugh -like April through the glistening storm in the next instant, that he -would make amends for the great sin of his life, in working upon this -sensitive organisation for good. The fine delicate chords of this frail -instrument might be made to respond to the divinest notes; and this -creature, with developed brain and expanding soul, become a medium of -the loftiest intelligence—aye, be even to him the consoler of after -years. The idea was a strange one, but it suited the intellectual -audacity of Manton for that very reason. - -It seemed to his darkened hopelessness, that here, through the -innocence of childhood, he might renew that broken chain of living -light which held him in communion with the upper world, until its -blackened, severed links, falling about him, had left his manacled -soul in hopeless bondage. He dreamed that if he guarded it with holy -zeal, his prayers might rise upon the first odors that went up from -this strange young flower to Heaven, and bring its light down too, in -forgiveness, to him. - -He did not know—for he had fed on poisons until it had become a kind of -second nature to him, as to that old Pontiac king—that the pure light -of spheres could never reach him through this lurid glare, which he had -now come to think the natural day—that the odor of no flower could rise -through its thickened air to meet the keen, grey stars. The man became -bewildered with the gorgeous dream he nourished; and, day by day, -without knowing why, he threw himself between the child and the baleful -shadow of its mother. He spread his hands above her in blessing; he -watched that he might shield her. - -From the moment when his attention had been first attracted to her, she -seemed to become illuminated; her ungainly body appeared assuming the -lines of beauty; her mean, harsh features, softened, as the gnarled -shrub assumes, in slow unfolding, the graceful mellowed drapery of -spring. The coarse, elfin locks, grew tamed and smooth; a dark blue, -in soft and gradual displacement, entered the sharp, greenish, animal -eyes. The low, ape-like forehead, swelled above meekly-curved brows -that had lost their hirsute squareness. Indeed, so rapid was the -expansion of the frontal region, that it absolutely startled and -affrighted the devout experimenter, when he placed his hand upon it, -and felt it almost lifted by the wild throbbings beneath. The work -was progressing _too_ fast; he feared that the general health of the -subject might fail; but how to check and remedy this powerful reaction, -so as to control it from fatal results, now so fully occupied the -spiritual subtilty of the man, as to leave him little time to think of -himself. - -The loathsome contact of the reptile mother daily grew more abhorrent -to him; and her characteristic cunning soon discovered that she had -no real hold upon him herself, and at once encouraged this growing -interest in the daughter, with the same assiduous art that she had -before displayed in tormenting her with jealous gibes. Through this -help she hoped he might be held within her reach. She had already, by -her malapert, silly, malignant interference, so far completed his ruin -as to have brought about a desperate, and finally fatal collision, -between himself and his business associate in the Journal, which his -genius had built up; and now he was thrown again to struggle hap-hazard -with the world, he had become more reckless and desperate than before, -so that she feared he might, at any time, break away from his bondage, -and that, too, while he was still of use to her, and before she had -gloated fully upon his ruin. She had studiously taught the child the -process of those infernal arts, of which we have seen something; and, -although the creature understood nothing of the _rationale_ involved, -yet her imitative cunning made her a most sharp pupil and practitioner. - -By saying that the child did not understand, we mean to convey, that -she could not have explained to herself, or to others, what effect -certain manipulations would produce specifically; yet she had a feeling -of them, a vicious intuition, that answered with her all the purposes -of intellection. To look at her through the eyes of Manton, the uncouth -and grotesque girl had become a fond and graceful plaything, that -clung about him in soft caresses, that kept his heart warmed towards -her, and caused him to regard the mother even with a modified sense of -the growing disgust which was possessing him, and of which her shrewd -insight made her fully aware. - -Her child had become necessary as a bait—and her child let it be—for, -in her hideous creed, nothing was sacred. She was filled towards her -victim with fierce yearnings, and, had she possessed the actual entity -of soul, would have loved him madly—but no, she hated him, as the slave -hates the despotic master to whom he hourly cringes for each favor. In -a word, she hated him as a man—or in his double capacity of a spiritual -being, rather; and, as even her hate was secondary, her appetites -towards him were those of the weir-wolf for mankind. She would devour -him body and soul, but she meant to feast alone. - -Fearing lest the tenderness of his nature might be too strongly moved -towards the child, if not diverted in other directions, she at once -set her subtle wits to work to furnish her “Tiger,” as she called him, -with sufficient toys of the same kind to keep him quiet, and avert the -chances of his leaning more towards one than another. Some letters were -hastily despatched to New England, and the result was the appearance of -a fair and gentle child, about the age of her own. - -Elna and the stranger, Moione, sprang into each other’s arms when -they met, as if their very heart were one. They were fast friends, -it seemed, and a thousand times had Elna said how dearly she loved -the gentle Moione; and so jealous were the children of their first -meeting, that Manton saw little of either for several days. A glance at -the broad, serene brow, great, clear eyes, and delicate mouth of the -new-comer, filled him with a strange, inexplicable sense of confidence, -and even relief; which he could not well explain, to be sure, because -it was too undefined to himself. He could only wonder how that -white-browed creature came in such a place. It seemed as though it were -a promise, answering to his prayer for the elfish Elna, that this calm -spirit should have descended in their midst. - -The vehement and headstrong petulance of her nature promised to find -here a balance that would sober it within the bounds of reason; and -strangely, although he saw hope for her, and for his own yet undefined -purpose in her development, he saw nothing definitely in the stranger, -but a good angel sent to aid him. His soul went out to greet her, but -was it yet his heart? - -These children were both dedicate to art; and Manton found it now by -far the most pleasing occupation, to watch and give direction to the -rapid unfolding of this instinct for the creative. The newly-aroused -intellect of Elna here displayed many impish and brilliant -characteristics of the imitative faculty, that might easily have been -mistaken, by a less partial observer than Manton, for genius. These -peculiarities were strikingly contrasted with the placid, but vigorous -style of Moione, to a degree that one formed the exact offset to the -other, not alone in art, but in all physical and mental, as well as -spiritual idiosyncrasies. As these children grew upon him, there -seemed something strangely familiar in them to Manton. He often tried -to account for this to himself. Had he seen them before in dreams? -Had he known them in some different world, and in a previous stage -of being? Why was it that the vehement eccentricities of temper, the -elfin wildness of motion, and light, mocking spirit of this child -Elna, all seemed to him so familiar? Why was it that the coming of the -fair-browed Moione had surprised him so little? There was that in her -pure, calm face to startle most observers; yet, from the first, he had -looked upon it as a matter of course, and as if he had unconsciously -waited for her to arrive. Why was it that he had felt comforted since -she came? What was it, in that name of hers, that sounded to him so -much like a half-forgotten music-note? - -So he had questioned himself a thousand times, becoming each day more -puzzled than the last, until accident furnished him with the curious -solution of this mystery. One day, in looking over a pile of old -manuscripts, he found one, upon which he seized, with an unaccountable -thrill. In an instant the whole thing flashed upon him— - -“I have it! I have it! Here the mystery is solved at last! Strange, -that I should so utterly have forgotten this manuscript! Two years ago, -before I ever saw these people, this strange foreshadowing of what -seems now a reality in my life, came to me in a summer’s day-dream; and -I wrote it off, to be thrown aside and forgotten until this moment. -It seems the most wonderful coincidence. I am no believer in miracles, -but this appears a marvellous reach of the soul into the future; I was -conscious of nothing when I wrote, but the pleasure of embodying in -words what seemed to me a beautiful thought; strange, it should have -been thus thrown aside and so utterly forgotten, until the increasing -coincidences of my present relation have gradually forced me back to -find it! What blind instinct, struggling in me, sent me here to look -through these old manuscripts, with no definite purpose? What vague -struggle of consciousness and memory is this, that has been moving me -for weeks to understand why it is those children seem so familiar to -me? Strange! strange! strange!” - -Manton now proceeded to read this curious manuscript, the contents of -which we shall also place before you:— - - - THE LEGEND OF THE MOCKING-BIRD. - -Friend, do you know the Mocking-Bird? I warrant, if he is a familiar -of your childhood, you have a thousand times wondered at the strange -malignant intelligence which characterises his tyrannical supremacy -over all the feathered singers. Not only is he “accepted king of song,” -but he is the pest and terror of the groves and meadows. Spiteful and -subtle, he conquers in battle, or by manœuvre, all in reach of him; and -you may easily detect his favourite haunts, by the incessant din and -clatter of wrath and fear he keeps up by his malicious mockery among -his neighbors. From my earliest childhood, I can remember having been -singularly impressed by the weird and curious humors of this creature. -Since those times of innocent wonder, I have been a wide wanderer. The -prepossessions of my fancy were irresistibly attracted by the wild -legend I give below. It was told me by an old Wako warrior. - -On a hill-side, above an ancient village of his tribe, while we were -stretched upon the grass beneath a moss-hung live-oak, he related it. -The moon was out, gilding with silver alchemy the shrub-crowned crests -of prairie undulations—piled, as we may conceive the waves of the -ocean would be—stayed by a word from heaven, while on the leap before -a tempest. It was a fitting scene for such a story. Out from the dark -gorges on every side ascended the night-song of the mocking-bird. The -old man had listened to the rapid gushing symphonies for some time in -silence, then drawing a long breath he remarked—“That is an evil bird!” -I begged him for an explanation, and he proceeded. - -Those peculiarities, indeed, of the Indian’s phraseology—those -broken-pointed expressions, so condensed and meaning, and eked out -continually by significant gestures, I could hardly hope to convey, -were I fully able to remember them. The wild and fanciful methods of -the Indian mind, believing what it dwells upon, yet half conscious that -it is dreaming, are difficult to remember or repeat. We can only do the -best we may to preserve the idiosyncracies. - -“Yahshan, the Sun,” said the old chief, pausing reverently as he -uttered the name, “in his great wigwam beyond the big waters, made the -first Wako! He laid him in his fire-canoe and oared his way up through -the thick mists that hung everywhere. When his arm tired of pulling, -he took him out and stretched him upon his back on a wide dark bank, -and then rowed on his path and left him. The Wako lay like the stem of -an oak, still and cold. Before Yahshan entered his night-lodge in the -west, a dim hazy light had hung over the figure, but this only made -its broad couch look blacker—for nothing that had form could be seen. -Yahshau, the Moon—the pale bride of Yahshan—came forth when he had -gone in, and rowed her silver bark through the ugly shadows above the -Wako, to watch lest the spirits that hated Yahshan should do harm to -his work, which it had taken him many long ages to finish. He was very -proud of it, and the evil spirits hated him that he had made a thing so -goodly to look upon; and they drifted hideous phantom shapes across -the way of Yahshau, and tried to overwhelm her light canoe, but its -keen shining prow cut through them all, and left them torn and ragged -behind her. At last they fled, for when her eye was on the mute form -of the Wako, they feared to do it any harm. When all were gone, and -nothing that looked like mischief was to be seen, she too went in. And -then they flocked out from the deep places where they had been hid, and -gathered with hot fingers and red eyes about the quiet Wako. He did not -stir, for his senses had not yet been waked. Quick they pried open his -clenched teeth, and poured a green smoking fluid down his throat. Just -then the prow of the fire-canoe appeared parting the eastern mists, and -they all fled. - -“Yahshan came on. He looked upon his work and smiled—for he did not -know that evil had been wrought—and came now in glory, riding on golden -billows, scattering the chill mists that clung around the icy form, for -it was time to waken it up with life. He rolled the yellow flood upon -it, and the figure shivered; again the glowing waves pass over it—the -figure was convulsed—tossed its limbs about, and rocked to and fro. Its -eyes were open, but it saw not; its ears were open, but it heard not; -it was tasteless and dumb; it smelt not, nor did it feel. Life had gone -into it, and the heart beat, the pulses throbbed, the blood coursed -fast, and it was monstrous strong. But what was this? Being, self-fed -and self-consumed, hung upon the void of midnight, hurried and driven -from its own still gathering impulse through a chaos of crude matter. -That green liquid of the evil one now rushed in burning currents -through the veins, and it dashed away, crawling, leaping, tumbling, -like a mad torrent, over piled-up rocks across the dark plains, -striking against hard, formless things, and rebounding to rush on more -swiftly, till it had left the fire-canoe and Yahshan all astounded, far -behind, and the terror of darkness was beneath and above it. But what -was this to it? On! on! the green fire still burned within, and it must -go—chasms and cliffs, with jagged rocks—into them, over them all. What -were rough points and bruises, and crashing down steeps, and midnight -to it? There was no feeling, yet the heart leaped, the blood careered, -the limbs must follow. Motion, blind motion—no control, no guide—but -through and over everything, move it must. - -“The bad spirits thronged after it, grating and clanging their scaly -pinions against each other, and creaking their pleasant gibes, when -suddenly there was no footing, and the headlong form pitched down, -downward, whirling through the empty gloom, while all the herd of ill -things laughed and flapped themselves in the prone wake behind it. - -“At once, with a sigh of wings, like a sharp moan of tree-harps, a -shape of light shot arrowy down amidst them. They scattered, howling -with affright. It bore up the falling Wako on strong, shining vans an -instant, then stretching them out, subsided slowly, and laid it on a -soft, dark couch again. This was Ah-i-wee-o, the soul of harmonies, the -good spirit of sweet sounds. She is the great queen of spirit-land. -Yahshan and Yahshau are her slaves; and all the lesser fire-canoes that -skim in Yahshau’s train obey her. She gives all life its outer being; -to know and feel beyond itself—without her, life is only motion. There -is no form, no law, no existence beside, for she holds and grants -them each sense, and in them reveals all these. Yahshan could give -life—but not content with this, he was ambitious. The formless chaos -his fire-canoe sailed over must be a world of beauty! A soul dwelt in -it, but that world was passionless and barren. Yahshan had given life -to many shapes, but the cold spirit had scorned them all; and yet she -must be wooed to wed herself to life, that, out of the glow of that -embrace, might spring the eternal round of thoughts made vital, clothed -out of shapeless matter with symmetry. He planned an impious scheme. -He would not pray the good Ah-i-wee-o for aid, but would act alone, -and be the great Medicine Spirit. He would frame a creature from out -the subtlest elements within this chaos, so exquisite that, when it -came to live, confusion would be harmonised in it, and the order of -its being go forth the law of beauty and of form to all. Then that coy -spirit of desolation would be won at last, and passing into its life, a -royal lineage would spring forth, and procreation wake insensate matter -in myriad living things, gorgeous ideals, harmoniously wrought, and -self-producing forever. All these would be his subjects, and he would -rule, with Yahshau, this most excellent show himself! So he labored on, -in the deep chambers of his night-lodge, through many cycles. The work -was finished. It lay in state, within his golden wigwam at the east, -that Yahshau and her glittering train might look upon it and wonder. -Then he carried it forth; but evil spirits are wise, and, though it was -a mighty work, they knew that it was too daring, and that Ah-i-wee-o -would punish its presumption, and would not let the senses wake with -life; so they poured that fearful fluid in, that fires the blood, and -makes life slay itself. They say the white man has dealt with them, -has learned from them the spell of that bad magic, and makes his -“fire-water” by it. So when Yahshan waked up life, its power waked too; -for he knew not of the craft, and it tore the glorious work from out -his hands, while they flew behind and mocked him. - -“Ah-i-wee-o bent over the swooning Wako; for the life that had been so -tumultuous scarcely now stirred his pulse. She was a thing of beams, -silvery and clear; a warm, lustrous light clung around her limbs and -showed their delicate outline. She floated on the air, her wings and -figure waving with its eddies, like the shadows of a Lee-ka-loo bird -upon the sea. Her eyes, deep as the fathomless blue heaven, looked down -on him with pity and unutterable gentleness. It was a marvellous work -the overdaring Yahshan had accomplished. Beautiful, exceedingly, was -that mute form, and rarely exquisite its finish. Must that glorious -mechanism be destroyed, and all the noble purpose of its framing be -lost? No! She moves her tiny, flower-like hand above it, and every -blotch and all the bruises disappear, and it was fair to view, and -perfect as when Yahshan had given it the last touch. Now she stooped -beside and touched him, white sparks flew up, and she sang a low song. -At the first note, the dark, formless masses round them quivered and -rocked: the Wako smiled; for feeling now first thrilled along his -nerves. The song rose; the dumb things shook and stirred the more. -She touched his nostrils and his lips; the sparks played between her -small fingers and danced up. Yet a louder note swelled out, and the -thick mists swayed and curled, and a cool wind rushed through them, -and dashed a stream of odor on his face. He drew long breaths, and -sighed with the burden of delight, and moved his lips to inarticulate -joy; and now that wondrous song pealed out clear, ringing bursts -that shook the blue arch and swung the fire-boats, cadent with its -gushes; and through the dim mists great shapes, like rocks and trees, -leaped to the measure, marshalling in lines and order. Now she pressed -his eyelids with her fingers; the silver sparks sprung in exulting -showers, snapping and bursting with sweet smells. Once more, pealing -triumphant, a keen, shining flood, that symphony poured wilder forth; -his eyes fly open, and that heavy mist, like a great curtain, slowly -rises. First the green grass and the flowers, bending beneath the -gentle breeze, turn their deep eyes and spotted cups towards him in -salutation, and all the creeping things and birds, that love the low -herbs, dew-besprent, are there: and as the mist goes up, majestically -slow, other forms of bird and beast are seen, and dark trunks of trees, -and great stems beside them, looking like trees, until his eyes have -traced them up to the great moose, the big-horned stag, the grizzly -bear, and the vast-moving mammoth. But then it has drunk the harmony of -grades; for all are there. And, side by side, he marks how, from the -crawler, every step ascends, in beautiful gradation; the last linked -to the first in one all-perfect chain. Then came the knotted limbs, -with all their burden of green leaves; and, underneath, the round, -yellow fruits, or purple flushing of rich clusters and gay forms, that -flutter through them on wings of amethyst, or flame, or gold, their -every movement a music-note, although all was dumb to him as yet. -Still higher the mist-curtain goes; and the grey cliffs, with shining -peaks, and a proud, fierce-eyed bird perched on them, meet his gaze; -and then the mists float far away, and scatter into clouds, and all -the splendor and the pomp of the thronged earth is spread, a gorgeous, -but voiceless, revelation to his new being. With every touch of the -enchantress, Ah-i-wee-o, the soul of chaos had passed into a sense; and -all the pleasant harmonies the Wako felt, and all the scented harmonies -the Wako tasted and inhaled—all the thoughts of harmony in grand -or graceful forms the Wako saw—that blissful interpenetration gave -conception to, and the magic of that powerful song brought forth. One -more act, and his high marriage to eternity is consummated: ecstacy has -found a voice, and all these harmonies articulation, yet his ears were -sealed; and though music flowed in through every other sense, his dumb -lips strove in vain to wake its language. - -“But this was the supremest gift of all. This was the charm that had -drawn beauty out of chaos—the magic by which Ah-i-wee-o ruled in -spirit-land, and chained the powers of evil. It were death to spirits -less than she, to hear the fierce crashing of those awful symphonies -she knew. His nature could not bear the revelation. Besides, what had -he to do with that celestial minstrelsy which led the heaven-fires on -their rounds? There was ambition, full enough, up there; and Yahshan -had been playing far too rashly on those burning keys. She would not -curse this perfect being with a gift too high, and add another daring -rebel to her realm! No! he must be ruler here, as she ruled everything. -From all those harmonies he must extract the tone, and on it weave his -song of power to lead them captive. This divine music is the voice of -all the beautiful, the higher language of every sense; and not until -the soul is brimmed to overflowing with sparkling thoughts of it, -drank in through each of them, will the beamy current run, as streams -do in the skies. He must lead the choir of all this being—yet, this -infinite sense would overbear his nature, if suddenly revealed; it -can only wake in other creatures, as its birth matures in him—and he -shall go forth into silence—every living thing shall be mute—and from -the low preluding of the waters and the winds the first notes of his -exulting powers shall be learned, and they shall learn of him—until all -the air is one harmony—all breath takes music on, and echoes bear the -twice-told glee—until fainter, more faint, it is gone! - -“She touched his ears—the sparks leaped up—she pressed his lips with -one entrancing kiss and sprang away. The quick moan of her pinions -cleaving the air is the first sound that steals on the new sense, and -stirs the dead vast of silence that weighs upon his being. And now -myriad soft wavelets of the infinite ocean follow—breaking gently over -him—the whisper of quivering leaves to the caressing zephyr, the low -tremble of the forest-chords, and the deep booming of great waves afar -off; the ring and dash of cascades nearer, the tinkling of clear drops -in caves, the gush and ripple of cold springs, the beat of pulses, -the purr of breathings, and the hum of wings, in gentlest ravishment -possess his soul—for now is the bridal of his immortality consummate in -a delirium of bliss, and lulled upon his couch he sweetly sinks into -the first sleep. - -“The Wako is roused next morning by a warm flood from the -fire-canoe—for Yahshan had come forth right royally, and though -Ah-i-wee-o had humbled his presumption and would not permit him to -be sole lord as he had hoped, yet all he had dared attempt had been -accomplished, and he believed it to be in full his own work, and thus -wore all his panoply of splendor in honor of his glorious creation. The -Wako rose, and lo! around him as far as the eye could reach, a mighty -multitude of all the animals of the earth were rising too. They waited -for their king, and it was he. They came flocking around him to caress -him in obeisance—a gentle, eager throng! - -“The panther stroked his sleek glossy fur against his legs and -rolled and gambolled like a kitten at his feet. The great bear of the -north rubbed his jaws against his hand and begged to be caressed. Big -mountain (the mammoth) thrust his huge tusks in for a touch; and the -white-horned moose bowed his smooth-bristled neck and plead with meek -black eyes for notice. All the huge grotesque things pressed around, -and the smaller creatures, pied, flecked, and dotted, crowded beneath -their heavy limbs, unhurt—all, full of confidence and love, gracefully -sporting to win one glance. - -“Above him the air was thick with wings, and the whirr and winnowing -of soft plumes made pleasant music, and the play of brilliant hues was -like a thousand rainbows arched and waving over him; and the little -flame-like things would flutter near his face, and gleam their sharp -brown eyes into his, and strive, in vain, to warble out their joy, for -their sweet pipes were not yet tuned. - -“All were there, great and small; and the wide-winged eagle came from -its high perch and circled round his head, and brushed its strong -plumes with light caressing, through his hair. He went with them into -the forest burdened with rich fruits, and ate, then shook the heavy -clusters down for them. Then he passed forth to look upon the land, the -first shepherd, with that countless flock thronging about his steps. - -“It was, indeed, a lovely land! Here a rolling meadow, there a heavy -wood; the trees all bearing fruits, or hung with vines and bloom. A -still, deep river, doubled sky and trees in its clear mirror, and he -gazed, in a half-waking wonder, when the ripples the swan-trains made, -shivered it to glancing fragments. - -“But wander which way he might, he came to tall gray cliffs, with small -streams, that pitched from their cloudy summits, and bounding off from -the rough crags below, filled all the valley with cool spray. - -“He found his lovely world was fenced about with square towering rocks, -that nothing without wings could scale. But there was room enough for -all, and profuse plenty the fruitful earth supplied. - -“At noon, he went beneath a grove of sycamores, where a great stream -gushed out, and laid him down beside its brink, while his subjects -stretched and perched around him, in the shade, to rest. His sleep was -broken by strange new melodies that crept in. He opened his eyes; near -him were two maidens, and all the birds and beasts were gathered around -them, and they were singing gay, delicious airs, teaching the birds to -warble. - -“One of them was fair—white as the milk-white fawn that licked her hand -and gazed up at her musical lips; but her hair was dark and a strong -light gleamed in her small black eye. This was Ki-ke-wee. She sung and -laughed and kissed the song-bird that perched upon her finger, and -when it tried to follow her wild carol, she mocked its blunders and -stamped her tiny foot, and frowned and laughed and warbled yet a wilder -symphony to puzzle it the more. - -“The other was a darker maiden with large, gentle eyes. This was -Mnemoia; her voice was soft and low—and she sang sweet songs and looked -full of love and patience. The Wako half rose in joy and wonder. They -bounded towards him—sang a rapturous roundelay to a giddy, whirling -dance, then threw their arms about his neck and kissed him. They became -his squaws, and Yahshau smiled upon them as she sailed by that night. - -“The Wako was very happy and Ki-ke-wee was his favorite. She grew very -lovely and full of curious whims that each day became more odd. She -loved the blue jay most among the birds, and taught him all his antics; -and the magpie was a pet; and the passionate, bright hummer lived about -her lips. - -“As yet nothing but sounds and scenes of love were in that little -world; and the strong, terrible brutes knew not that they had fierce -passions or the taste for blood; but Ki-ke-wee would stand before the -grizzly bear and pluck his jaws and switch his fierce eyeballs until -he learned to growl with pain, and then she would mock him; and when he -growled louder she would mock him still, until at last he roared with -rage and sprang upon the panther—for he feared Ki-ke-wee’s eye!—and -the panther tasted blood and sprang to the battle fiercely. And now -the tempest broke, and everything with claws and fangs howled in the -savage discord. Ki-ke-wee clapped her hands and laughed. Mnemoia -raised the enchantment of her song above it all, and it was stilled. -Then Ki-ke-wee would tease the eagle and mock him till he screamed and -dashed at the great vulture in his rage; and she would dance and shout -for joy; and Mnemoia would quell it, then go aside and weep. - -“The Wako loved the beautiful witch, and when he plead with her she -would mock even him, and every day and every hour this mocking elf -stirred some new passion, until at last even Mnemoia’s song had lost -its charm, and the bear skulked in the deep thickets and shook them -with his growl, and the panther moaned from out the forest, and the -gaunt wolves snapped their white teeth and howled, and all the timid -things fled away from these fierce voices; and battle, and blood, and -death, were rife where love and peace had been. The birds scattered -in affright and sung their new songs in snatches only; and hateful -sounds of deadly passions, and the screams and wails of fear, resounded -everywhere. - -“Ki-ke-wee made a bow and poisoned the barbed arrow, and mocked the -death-bleat of the milk-white fawn when the Wako shot it at her -tempting. This was too much! Ah-i-wee-o cursed her and she fell. The -Wako knelt over her and wept; and when the dissolving spasm seemed -upon her, he covered his face with his hands and wailed aloud. A voice -just above him wailed too! He looked up surprised; a strange bird with -graceful form and sharp black spiteful eyes was mocking him! He looked -down—Ki-ke-wee was gone; and the strange bird gaped its long bill -hissing at him; and when it spread its wings to bound up from the twig -in an ecstacy of passion, he knew by the broad white stripes across -them that it was Ki-ke-wee! - -“He found the neglected Mnemoia weeping in the forest; and soon after -they scaled the cliffs and fled from that fair land to hide from -Ki-ke-wee. But she has followed them and mocks their children yet, and -we dare not slay her, for the wise men think she was the daughter of -the Evil Spirit that poured the green fluid down the Wako’s throat, and -that the same bad fire burns yet in our veins. Our hunters chasing the -mountain-goat sometimes look from the bluffs into that lovely vale that -lies in the bosom of the Rocky Mountain chain, but they never venture -to go down!” - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - SOME SELECT SCENES. - - -Some short glimpses of daily scenes may convey, perhaps, a clearer -idea of how life sped now with Manton, amidst the new charms which it -had gained. The whole man was rapidly changed; his habits of excess in -wine-drinking were, in a great measure, thrown aside, and the hours -he had thus wasted in stupifying madness, were given to the society -and development of these fair children, that had thus come to him in -blessing. He now knew no difference in his thought of them; they had -grown to be twin-flowers to him, transfused with a most tender light of -spring-dawn in his darkened heart. Yes, there it was—that little spot -of light—he felt it warm, and slowly spread and waken in soft beams, -tremulous and faint, along the ice-bound chaos where the life-floods -met within him. - -His brow would grow serene and lose its painful tension, as, hour by -hour, he watched beside them, guiding their wayward pencils with his -sure eye, to teach their yet irresolute wills and unaccustomed fingers -to act together with that consciousness that always triumphs; and -then, with the long evenings, came lessons in botany, or the eloquent -discourse, half poetical, half rhapsodical, and all inspired, which -led their young spirits forth, amidst the mysteries and beauties of -the other kingdoms of the natural world. Or, when the stars came out, -and their calm inspiration slid into his soul, he communed with them -of higher themes—of aspirations holy, wise, and pure—of the heroic -souls of art—of their pale, unmoved dedication, through dark, saddened -years of neglect, obloquy, and want—of their glorious triumphs, their -immortal bays, that time can never wither—until, with trembling lips -and glistening eyes, they hung upon his words. - -It was wonderful to see how quickly Elna wept, like an April shower, at -any tender word or thought; but the great eyes of Moione only trembled -like dark violets brimming with heavy dew. All the truth, the religion -of Manton’s soul, was poured out at such times. - -The door would sharply open—“Elna! Moione! go to bed!” This would be -spoken in a low tone, evidently half-choked with rage, by the woman. -Her bent form looming within the shadow of the entry, looks ghastly -enough in her white gown, loose dark hair, and the greenish glitter -of her oblique eye. The poor children rise, with a deep sigh from -Moione over her broken dream, and a quick exclamation of petulant wrath -from Elna—while Manton mutters an involuntary curse on the unwelcome -intruder; and, as the light forms of the children recede before his -vision and disappear in the dark passage, he shudders, unconsciously, -as if a ghoul had disturbed him at a feast with angels. - -Now, again, had he fallen back to hell. With a fierce outbreak of -jealous fury, she would spring into the room, as if literally to devour -him with talons and teeth; and, when but a few paces off, catching -his cold, concentrated eye, she would stagger backwards, as if shot -through the heart, toss her white arms wildly into the air, and, with -head thrown back, utter, in a strange, choking, guttural screech— - -“Auh! auh! auh!—yaugh!—you kill!—you kill me!” and pitch forward -convulsively, with the blood bursting in torrents from her mouth. Then -came the long, harrowing, and oft-described scene of terror, remorse, -pity, on the part of Manton, and the plea for forgiveness, the slow -recovery, and—and so on. - -Or else, with some modification of tactics, the lioness changed to the -lamb, the Gorgon-head to that of Circe, she would throw herself upon -him, with tender expostulations, call him “cherubim,” and stroke his -“hyacinthian curls;” and, when that failed, cling about his knees, -and weep and pray, and then, as the desperate resort, suddenly swoon, -with a tremendous crash, upon the floor, and lie there for an hour, if -need be, in a condition of syncope, so absolute, that Manton—who had -now witnessed this comparatively harmless phenomenon so many times, as -to be relieved from any apprehensions of immediate results—had lately -felt the curiosity of the philosopher irresistibly aroused in him, and -would frequently leave her for a considerable length of time, in order -to watch the symptoms, before he proceeded to apply the very simple -remedy for recalling her to consciousness, with which, by the way, she -had furnished him long ago, in advance, through certain adroit hints -and indirections. When he had satisfied his more analytical moods, -in this way, he would proceed with the restorative process, as _per -prescription_. - -This mysterious operation consisted in placing the pillows of the sofa, -or the rounds of a chair, under her feet, so as to elevate them at a -slight angle higher than the head. As he was led to understand the -result, the blood, by the laws of capillary attraction, was instantly -carried up, from her head to her feet, thereby relieving the oppression -of the brain; when lo! to this new “open sesame,” the rigid lids flew -wide apart, disclosing eyes as vivid with life as ever. - -The strangest part of this scene consisted in the fact, that while -the fit lasted, it was impossible to perceive the slightest symptoms -of breathing or pulsation, any more than in the most broadly-defined -case of catalepsy, or of absolute death itself. It was, therefore, -clear enough to his mind, that such conditions could not be entirely -counterfeit; though the suggestion had now become frequent, that they -might, after long training, become, in a great measure, voluntary. - - * * * * * - -Another scene. The mother reclines upon her bed, and the child Elna by -her side, with arms around her neck and face against her bosom. Moione -stands leaning over the foot-board, with folded arms, her pale face -expressing mingled grief, anger, and pain, while she looks with a cold, -steadfast glance into the oblique eye of the woman, who addresses her -rapidly, in bitter tones— - -“You love that bad man, Moione?” - -“Yes, I do!” said the young girl, curtly and coldly. - -“Ha! you acknowledge it, do you, ungrateful girl? Acknowledge that, at -your age, you love a profligate wretch like this? a man utterly without -principle, where our sex is concerned. A villain, who has already -attempted the ruin of my own daughter, under my very eyes!” - -Moione turned paler still at this, and looked inquiringly towards her -friend Elna, who, however, gave no sign, either by word or movement, -of dissent to this vile insinuation. Instantly the blood mounted to -Moione’s brow, and her gentle eye shot fire, her thin lips curled with -scorn— - -“It is false! It is false! You know it to be so! He has taught us -nothing but what is pure and high! He never breathed a thought of evil -to either of us, and Elna _dares_ not say so! I love him as our lofty, -noble brother, and shall continue to do so so long as he shows himself -only to me, and to her, as he has done! Pray, madam, why do you permit -him to remain in the house, if he be so wicked? You tell me you have -the power to turn him out at any minute. Why not do it? Why do you -trust your child with him, at all hours, and under all circumstances? -Why do you so constantly seek his society yourself? If he were the -fiend you represented, one would think you would have reason to fear -for yourself, if not for Elna. What he has done once he will do again! -How do you reconcile all this?” - -The flashing look and withering tone in which this unexpected outburst -of indignation, on the part of the usually quiet Moione, had been -delivered, cowed the craven nature to which it was addressed. It was -but for an instant, though; her subtle cunning returned to the charge, -in a lower tone, and on another tack. She reached out her hand, -affectionately, towards her— - -“Come, Moione, dear! come, kiss me!” - -The child did not move, but merely answered in a low, contemptuous “No!” - -The woman continued, in a wheedling tone, “Hear! my naughty Moione! -She will not come to kiss me, when I love her so! Moione does not -understand everything she sees, or she would not have spoken thus -sharply to her friend. She does not understand that I am striving to -save this poor youth from his frightful vices! his wine-drinking, his -tobacco, his meat-eating, and all those ugly sins which so deface, what -I hope one day to see a beautiful spirit! She does not know I must -endure this evil that good may come! She does not realise how much pain -it costs me to have the purity of my household thus desecrated by his -poisoned sphere! She does not remember that God has placed us here, on -this earth, to bear and forbear towards his erring children; that they -may, through us, become regenerate and redeemed! I know his eloquence, -I know his subtlety, therefore I have warned you against him; he cannot -be dealt with as other men, for he is but a foolish, headstrong boy, -with a great soul, if he were only free; but while his vices hold him -in bondage, he is not to be trusted. Though I have lifted him out of -the very gutters of debasement—given him a home in my house—I have no -confidence, at this moment, that he would not deliberately ruin either -you or Elna to-morrow, if he could! You should, therefore, rather pity -me than be angry with me, dearest Moione!” - -“So I perceive!” said the young girl, with a cold sneer, as she turned -and walked haughtily from the room, slamming the door emphatically -behind her. The woman sprang to her feet, with an expression of -ungovernable fury in her face. “The insolent, ungrateful wretch! This -is what I get for all my trouble to make something out of her—to render -her of some value to me! To sa-a-ve her!” and she hissed out the words -with a horrible writhing of her features, while the pupil of her -oblique eye was wrung aside, until nothing but the white, ghastly blank -of the ball was to be seen. - -“Yes, I’ll save you! I’ll use you, you insolent beggar! I have not -brought you here, alone, as the ant carries off the aphide, to give -spiritual milk to my own offspring! I brought you to use, too, and use -you I will! I will _coin_ you into profit! I’ll humble your insolent -airs! I’ve got a market for you already, and a bidder! Dare to cross -my path, ha?—with your supercilious insolence? I’ll bow that white -forehead! I’ll fill those blue eyes with ashes! until, bleared and -rheumy with premature decay, you crawl to kiss my foot for favors!” - -During this horrid apostrophe, the woman had stood stiffened where she -had first planted her feet upon the carpet, staring blankly at the door -through which the young girl had passed, and throwing her arms out in -wild gesticulations after her. - -The girl Elna lay, in the meantime, with her face half concealed -in the pillow, closely watching, with one sharp eye uncovered, the -whole scene. The woman, who had forgotten herself in her fury, turned -suddenly and saw her. Her manner instantly changed. She threw herself -by her side, took her caressingly into her arms, drew her face close to -hers, breathed upon it long and steadily, and then commenced in low, -confidential tones, a conversation between them, the purport of which -we must leave to conjecture. - - * * * * * - -Another scene. About this time, Manton had effected the advantageous -sale of a new work, which placed him suddenly in the possession of a -larger sum of money than he had been able to command, at one time, for -a long period. His first thought was for his young _proteges_, and, -although his own wardrobe was sufficiently dilapidated, he expended -a portion of the sum for their comfort and gratification before he -thought at all of his own necessities. Unluckily for him, however, it -was evening when the money was received, and the purchases intended to -surprise them were the only ones made on the way to the house. - -In almost boyish eagerness, and all breathless with the delight of -giving joy to these gentle ones he loved so much, he hastened home -and threw his presents down before them, to be greeted with rapturous -expressions and gleeful merriment, the silvery and most musical -clamoring of which, soon brought the woman, Marie, to the scene. Her -eyes danced and glistened as she saw them; her infallible instinct -scented the money in an instant. - -“Beautiful! beautiful!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands with -childlike artlessness. “How lovely! How sweet! How noble! How generous -of you to think of these dear girls first, when you need so much -yourself!” and she looked up with bewitching candor into the face of -Manton, though it might have been noticed by more careful observers -that one eye turned obliquely towards his pockets. She sprang suddenly -to his side, and leant affectionately against his arm, which she -clasped with both her hands. - -“Ah, my gentle Tiger! How shall I ever thank you for your unwearying -kindness to these my tender blossoms? My precious ‘Monies!’ You are too -good! We shall never know how to thank you enough!” - -And leaning still closer and in a more confidential manner towards his -ear, while her forehead flushed and her voice sank, - -“You sold the book, did you?” - -“Yes.” - -“For how much?” - -“The receipts in my pocket will show!” - -“Ah, let us see them then!” said she playfully, as she thrust her hand -into his pocket. “I want to see if those evil and stupid publishers -have understood the value of the precious genius they were purchasing! -Oh, dear, why what a treasure! Here are fifties, twenties, ever so -many!” while she, with eager and trembling hands, fumbled the notes -that she had snatched from the vest-pocket where he had, with his -characteristic carelessness of money, thrust them loosely. “Ah, I must -take time to count all this treasure for you, for I don’t believe you -know how much you’ve got, you careless boy!” And as she said this she -hastily deposited the money in the bottom of her pocket. - -Manton looked at her a moment with a very hard, cold glance, while -a flush of indignation gleamed across his brow; for he had a sure -presentiment that he should never see this money again. The great -misfortune of his organisation was his recklessness in regard to money, -and the absolute inability of his nature to comprehend the sterile -meannesses of its abject worshippers. For the first time the impulse to -strike this woman to the earth came across him, but in an instant this -angry feeling was dissipated amidst the gay and laughing caresses of -his petted favorites. - -When, on the next day, Manton demanded of the woman an account of -the money, she turned pale and red, looked upwards and downwards, -and finally askance, while she faintly told him that she had spent -the whole; but, for his good, as well as that of the dear girls and -herself, “for,” she said, “you know you are _so_ careless about money, -_so_ generous, _so_ liberal, that you would have thrown it all away -without accomplishing any of the good you so much desire. Pray, forgive -me, for my anxiety to do the best for us all!” and as she saw the -brow of Manton, who had not uttered a word, settling darker and darker -above his cold dilated eyes, she sank upon her knees at his feet, and -clasping his in her arms, she plaintively plead— - -“Ah, forgive me! forgive me! I acted for the best! For God’s sake do -not look so, you will kill me!” - -He spurned her contemptuously from him with his foot, and retreating, -as she crawled abjectly back again, he said in a measured, deliberate -tone— - -“Keep away from me, woman! You may retain your ill-gotten plunder once -more, but, mark you, if ever you dare to put your hands into my pockets -again I will strike you to the earth, woman as you are, and trample -you beneath my feet, as I would another reptile! I have had enough of -this remorseless fleecing!” And spurning yet more contemptuously her -persistent attempts to clutch his knees again, he left her _swooning_ -upon the floor. He went forth with the scales falling from his eyes -regarding this woman, in some particulars at least. - - * * * * * - -The sequel to the last scene is too rich to be passed over. Since -that wholesale and impudent robbery, Manton had maintained his ground -firmly, in regard to money. All her arts were brought to bear, in vain; -he steadily and sternly refused to be plundered any farther; until -finally, his feminine “saviour” being driven to the extreme verge of -desperation, tried a new and dashing game. - -She had just been reading Zschokke’s charming tale, “Illumination, or -the Sleep-Walker.” The reader will remember how the Sleep-Walker, the -heroine of the tale, instructs Emanuel, while in the clairvoyant state, -as to how he should proceed in her own case, which he had been elected -to restore to health again, through the nervous, or sympathetic medium, -by re-establishing the balance of the lost physical with the spiritual -life. That, in addition, the Sleep-Walker revealed to him the thoughts -of his own soul, and counselled him as an angel would have done, -against the evil she saw in him—tells him too, that he must not regard -her weakness, or the petulance of her words towards him in her waking -state. - -Well, our clairvoyant, after reading this book herself, exhibited an -unusual degree of restlessness to have it read by Manton, too; nothing -would content her until he had fairly commenced it, when she knew there -was no probability of his pausing until he got through. She watched him -during the reading, with great curiosity, frequently interrupting him -to draw out his opinion as he progressed. - -Everybody knows the fascination of the tale, and confesses the fine -skill with which its wonderful details are wrought up. Manton could do -no less; he was charmed, of course, as millions of other readers have -been. A few hours after finishing the book, while sitting at his table, -engaged in writing, the door, which was unbolted, flew open wide, and -there stood Madame, dressed in pure white—the eyes nearly closed, -and features pale and rigid, the outstretched hands reaching vaguely -forward, after the manner of the somnambulist. - -She paused for a moment thus—while the whole meaning of the scene -flashed through the mind of Manton in an instant; and, although he -felt a very great inclination to laugh, he restrained himself, and -determined to encourage the thing, and see how far it would go. The new -Sleep-Walker now advanced slowly towards him; and as she crossed the -room, a slight movement of her fingers beat the air before her, as if -through the guidance of these magnetic poles her soul sought its centre -of attraction; with a slow, gliding movement she thus approached, until -within a few inches of him, when her hand leaped, as the magnet does -to the stone, to meet his, and then a certain painful rigidity that -had marked her brow at first, was displaced and gave way to a serene -expression of content, as if she had now found rest. - -That peculiar action of the muscles of the throat, as if in the effort -to swallow, now followed immediately, and was sufficient intimation to -Manton that she desired to speak. He accordingly asked her, solemnly— - -“Why are you here?” - -But there was evidently something of mockery in the tone in which -this question was asked, for the Sleep-Walker only frowned and shook -her head impatiently. Manton now changed his voice, and with real -curiosity, proceeded. - -“Speak: why have you come to me thus? What would you say to me?” - -After some four or five efforts to produce sound, she articulated— - -“For your good.” - -“Tell me then, what is for my good?” - -She again frowned and shook her head and muttered— - -“You are naughty.” - -“Why?” - -“You have no faith.” - -“Faith in what?” - -“Faith in me—in my mission—in my truth.” - -“I have faith in you—tell me what is for my good.” - -“You must be more humble; your pride and your suspicion will never let -you be saved. You must have some hard lessons yet to bring you down—to -humiliate you—to purify.” - -Here there was a long pause, when Manton, growing impatient, finally -asked— - -“Is this all you have to say to me? Is this all you see now?” - -“No.” - -“Well, what is it?” - -After considerable hesitation, she at length said— - -“You do not treat me right!—you hold my life in your hands—yet you are -cold—you do not come near me—you are leaving me to die!” - -Here then was another long pause. - -“What more is there?” at length asked Manton; “this is not all.” - -This time the choking and hesitation, before pronouncing the words, -seemed greater than ever. At length, however, out they came. - -“They complain of you in Heaven, that you let me suffer—that you do not -care for my necessities—that—that you do not—not—give me money now.” - -This was too much—Manton literally roared with scornful laughter, as he -spurned her from him— - -“Ha! ha! ha! here is illumination for you with a vengeance! Alas! poor -Zschokke! ‘to what base uses do we come!’ The divine inspiration of -the Sleep-Walker raising the wind! Vive la bagatelle! Hurrah! hurrah!” -He fairly danced about the floor, in an ecstacy of enjoyment—the scene -seemed to him so irresistibly ludicrous. - -During this time, the woman, who had staggered towards the bed, and -fallen across it, lay perfectly immovable and white, without the -change of a muscle, or the quiver of a nerve. Manton, however, paid no -attention to her, and half an hour afterwards, taking his hat, left -the room, without again approaching her. But what was his astonishment -on returning, two hours afterwards, to meet the sobbing Elna, and the -pale, troubled face of Moione, in the passage. Elna, at the sight of -him, seemed wild with grief, and sprang, with her arms about his neck, -screaming— - -“Oh, mother is dead! mother is dead! My dear mother is dead!” - -“Why, Moione,” said Manton quickly, taking her hand, as he shook Elna -off, “what is the matter? what is all this?” - -“She seems to be in a fit of some sort. We missed her, and after -looking all over the house, found her lying on the bed in your room, -without motion or breath. We have not been able to wake her since, and -did not know what to do until you came.” - -“Oh, come! do come!” screamed the horrified Elna. “Save my poor mother! -save her! save her! You must save her! I shall die!” - -Manton, who immediately felt his conscience sting him, assured the -girls that it was merely a mesmeric sleep, from which he would relieve -her in a few minutes. He then rushed up-stairs, accompanied by them, -and found her, indeed, in precisely the same attitude and apparent -condition in which he had left her. After a few of the usual reverse -passes for removing the magnetic influence, she slowly opened her eyes, -while the blood returned to her face. Starting up and staring about -with a bewildered look, she uttered merely an exclamation of surprise, -and then, after rubbing her eyes, quickly asked the poor child, Elna, -who had thrown herself sobbing wildly on her breast— - -“Why, you foolish girl, what’s the matter now?” - -“Mother, dear mother, we thought you were dead!” - -And now came an explanation, so far as the thoroughly repentant Manton -was disposed to make it, of the scene we have just described; the -amount of which was, that she had come into his room in a clairvoyant -state, and, being called out suddenly, he had left it for an hour or -two, forgetting to make any explanation to the family, and without -having relieved her, as he should have done, before going, by using the -necessary reverse passes. - -The incredulity of Manton had never before received so severe a shock; -and it was a long time before his conscience would forgive him, for -what now seemed his brutal suspicion. Alas, poor Manton! had he only -possessed, for a little while after he left that room, the invisible -cap of the “Devil on two sticks,” he would have been most essentially -enlightened as to something of the art and mystery of Clairvoyance. - -As soon as the front-door had slammed behind him, he would have -seen that woman spring to her feet, and, with lips and whole frame -quivering with rage, glide from the room, muttering to herself; and -when she entered her own room, which could be reached through an empty -bath-room, he would have heard several low, peculiar raps upon the -partition-wall which separated her own from the room of her daughter. -These raps were repeated, at intervals, until a single tap at her door -responded, and in another moment the girl Elna glided in on tiptoe. The -conference between them was carried on in a low, rapid, business-like -tone, while every half-minute the girl thrust her head from the window, -to watch as for some one coming. - -After a few moments thus spent, the child left the room, with an -intelligent nod, in answer to the repeated injunction not to leave the -window of her own room until she saw him coming, far up the street—and -then—! - -After this, he would have seen the woman quietly seat herself at the -table, after locking her door, and write a long letter; when, on -hearing three low taps in succession, she sprang to her feet, rushed -through the bath-room into the room of Manton, and threw herself across -the bed, in the precise position in which he left her, and, after -three or four violent retchings of the whole muscular system, her face -collapsed—grew ashen-white—her lids drooped—her muscles became rigid, -and she exhibited all the outward resemblances of suspended vitality. -Then the wild Elna rushed in, accompanied by the deluded Moione, and, -the moment she looked at the condition of the mother, burst into the -most extravagant demonstrations of helpless grief; while Moione, with -perfect presence of mind, sprinkled water upon the face and endeavored -to restore animation. Soon the street door-bell rings with a peculiar -energetic pull, and the frantic Elna at once exclaims, “Manton! dear -Manton! he can save my mother; let us run for him.” She seizes the hand -of Moione, and—we know the rest! - -Shocking, ludicrous, and monstrous as all this may appear to the -reader, from his point of view, its only effect upon Manton was -necessarily to rebuke the feeling of harsh incredulity which was -beginning to become so strong in him, with regard to this inexplicable -woman. He was now more troubled and confounded than he had ever -been; for it was impossible that a nature like his could ever have -voluntarily suspected the unimaginable trickery and collusion which -we have traced in this scene; while his common sense was too strong -to be in any degree shaken by what was simply unexplained. His -magnanimity would not permit him to suspect the full degree of knavery, -or his conscientiousness to run such risks, again, of doing grievous -injustice, as it now seemed to him he had clearly done in this case. -He felt it utterly impossible to treat these phenomena with entire -disrespect hereafter, however little influence he might permit them to -exert upon his fixed purposes and will. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - - SELECT SCENES CONTINUED. - - -We have lost sight of the other characters in our narrative, and it -is now time that we return to them. The reader will remember, in the -dark-eyed, sharp-tongued Jeannette of a past scene, the contrasted type -of another class of adventuress, whose schemes seemed to have been -rapidly culminating. Her success, indeed, seemed now to be absolutely -assured; the coveted conquest had been achieved—Edmond was daily at her -feet. They were, as it was understood, soon to be publicly married. -In the meanwhile, she occupied the best room in the house, and became -daily more and more imperious and overbearing towards the woman Marie, -as she believed the time to be approaching when she would no longer -need her services. - -In common with her type the world over, she was incredibly selfish and -ungrateful, where she had once fawned and cringed. This little weakness -of arrogance she had begun to make some slight exhibitions of, even -towards Edmond himself; while, as for the woman Marie, she hectored her -on all occasions with the pitiless volubility of a most caustic wit. -In this, however, she made a most fatal mistake; she little dreamed of -the dark and terrible subtlety of the reptile she thus hourly trampled -with her ruthless scorn. She, too, was doomed to feel the fearful -poison of the hidden sting she carried, and writhe beneath its hideous -tortures. - -There had been a more than usually bitter scene between them, in -which Jeannette had loftily taunted her with the abjectness of the -game she was now playing, in putting forward her own daughter, as the -attraction, by which to hold Manton any longer near her. It was not -that Madame Jeannette was so much shocked at any villany in the act -itself, but that her lofty pride was revolted at the inconceivable -meanness it displayed; for, as among thieves and robbers, there is -among adventuresses a certain _esprit du corps_,—and the haughty -Jeannette aspired to be a sort of banditti chieftainess in sentiment, -and was really a person of refined cultivation, so far as mere -intellect was concerned,—it is little wonder, that at such a time -of unbounded confidence in the security of her own position, and -independence, as she supposed, of any farther aid from the woman, -that she should have given way to a natural feeling of disgust and -abhorrence, in a moment of irritation. But that taunt proved to her the -most deadly error of her life. - -The woman, who feared her presence mortally, left the room hurriedly -and in silence, shivering in an ague-fit of rage. In another moment -she left the house, without speaking a word to any one. Indeed, she -seemed incapable of speaking. Her eyes looked bloodshot and hideously -awry; the veins of her face swollen as if to bursting, and the skin -absolutely livid. - -It was a long walk she had set out upon, and gradually the headlong -rapidity of her gait subsided into a more measured tread. Her face -became pale, as it had before suffused, and a sort of ghastly calmness -succeeded. At length, in White Street, she rang the bell of an -old-fashioned, but respectable-looking mansion, and shot past the -servant in the passage, when, instead of turning into the parlor, she -hurried up-stairs to the chamber of the lady. - -A somewhat masculine voice answered her tap, and she passed in. A -woman of stout symmetrical figure, imperious bearing, whose somewhat -coarse features were relieved by the animal splendor of her large black -eyes, the luxuriance of her jetty hair, and voluptuous _embonpoint_ of -person, greeted her in a short, abrupt style, as she looked up with a -cold glance from some lacework over which she was bending. - -“What is it, Marie? You look flurried.” - -“No, no,” said she, throwing off her bonnet and sinking into a chair. -“I’m only tired! It’s a long walk from my place here; and then it is -very hot to-day. But, Eugenie,” she said abruptly, changing her tone, -“I came this morning to tell you about Edmond.” - -“What of him?” said the other sharply, turning full upon her. - -“Dear Eugenie, the fact is, I could not restrain myself longer—I should -not be acting truly by you or him, if I did so. You know you love him -still.” - -The face of the French-woman flushed slightly; her head was thrown back -with a haughty curve of the neck. - -“Ah, no,” said the woman, interrupting her quickly as she was about to -speak. - -“No nonsense, Eugenie; you remember that proud as you are, you loved -him well enough to risk the loss of your social position for him. You -never loved any one as well since, and never will again; and _I_ know -that he loves you, and you only, to this hour. It was your pride caused -the separation, it is your pride that has reduced him so low as to -become, in sheer despair, the victim of such a sapless, bodiless, dry -and sharp-set speculator, as this Jeannette! Why, would you believe it, -she has tormented him at last into a promise to marry her!” - -“What!” said the other, springing to her feet; “what! marry that -starvling! Edmond marry that pauper adventuress, after having loved -me! Pshaw! Marie, you are mistaken. He only tells her this to get rid -of her importunities. He’s trifling with her: he’s not in earnest—he -can’t be—he’s too proud: and besides, his father would disinherit him!” - -“Sit down and keep cool, Eugenie. I am not mistaken; so far from it, -that every day he comes to me, grievously bewailing his hard fate, in -having so far committed himself to Jeannette, whom he curses, while he -mourns over this obdurate pride of yours, in refusing to see him again. -He says if he could only see you once more he would be strong enough -to break with Jeannette forever. I’ve shown him how he could easily -buy her off, in case of reconciliation with you—that her object, from -the first, had been simply money, and the _eclat_ of the position it -would give her abroad—and that when she had become convinced that a -separation must take place, she would soon be brought to compromise her -claims. Beside, the marriage is impossible; I have seen his father and -his brother, and have given them some seasonable hints in regard to -her; and the testy old man now swears that he will disinherit him, if -he dares to marry what he considers to be little better than a common -adventuress. And the brother, whom you know is the most influential of -the two with the old man, is equally violent about it. So you see, my -dear Eugenie, I have been working for you faithfully all the while, -while you considered me as co-operating with Jeannette.” - -“Yes,” said the other, who had resumed her seat quite calmly, “I dare -say I did you injustice, for I had conceived all the time, that it -was through you that this affair, between Jeannette and Edmond, had -been brought about; that you had had some interest in it you have not -thought proper to explain to me; and an explanation of which I have not -chosen to ask of you. It is quite sufficient for me to know that you -now desire to supplant Jeannette, and thereby undo your own work. Now, -if you choose to explain to me what the object you wish to accomplish -is, so that I can understand your motive, then, perhaps, we may come -together in this matter—for I know you, Marie, that you never do things -without a motive for yourself. Come, out with it! Has Jeannette -crossed your track in any way? Has she foiled you? In a word, do you -hate her now?” - -“Of course I hate her now,” said the woman, “or why this visit? Why -the deliberate care I have taken to prepare the way to foil her -dearest schemes? She has outraged me beyond endurance by her insolent -superiority. She frightens, bullies and taunts me. She has insulted me -beyond the possibility of woman’s forgiveness to another! I hate her as -deeply as I love revenge!” - -“All this may be very true, Marie,” said the other, with a cool smile, -“but knowing you as I do, I should prefer to be informed specifically -in what this insult consisted. Tell me what she said and did, give -me all the circumstances in detail, and then I shall understand your -motive and know how far we can act together!” - -The woman paused an instant as if in hesitation, her eye grew hideously -askance once more, her forehead blazed, and her lips quivered, as -glancing furtively around the room, with a stealthy movement, she -glided closely to the side of the French-woman, and whispered in her -ear, with purple lips, a rapid, eager communication for a few moments, -and then sank back into her chair again, pale as death and seemingly -exhausted. - -The French-woman bent her ear to listen, with her needle suspended in -her hand, and as the other finished, a fierce, electric gleam darted -from her eye, and with untrembling fingers she finished her stitch, -while she said in a low tone— - -“That will do, Marie; that’s enough to secure your faith. We will -punish her. Edmond shall come back to my feet!” - - * * * * * - -The results of the last scene may be rapidly traced. Very soon there -commenced a series of mysterious calls by a dark-veiled lady, whom -Manton was induced to suppose was a patient who was desirous to retain -her incognito. She came and went always at unusual hours, and though a -vague suspicion once or twice forced itself upon his mind that there -was something unusual going on, yet in his pre-occupation it created -but little attention. But we, who have undertaken from the first to be -somewhat closer and more widely-awakened observers than he, can see -something more significant than met his eye in all this. - -An _accidental_ meeting in one of the rooms of the house soon occurred -between Edmond and Eugenie, upon the privacy of which we are not -disposed to intrude. Let the consequences suffice. - -In a few weeks the imperious tone of Jeannette, who, too, had been -kept entirely ignorant of what was going on, was lowered, though the -covert and sardonic vindictiveness of her wit had clearly lost nothing -of its directness and ferocity even; because, as she daily became less -exultant, the moroseness of her temper increased. - -It would be anything but a pleasant picture to unveil the harrowing -struggles of such a woman to regain an ascendency, which she felt was -daily driven by some malign and invisible power beyond the breath of -her heretofore ascendant will. She only felt its devastation amidst -her towering hopes, and the moon-stone battlements of regal schemes -that she had nourished in daring fancies. She only felt the shadow of -desolation on her soul, but her vision was not strong enough to see the -demon wing that threw it. - -She was passing through the valley and the shadow, yet knew not where -to aim the lightning of her curse. She sank at last, bewildered, -stunned, and utterly humiliated; for she had crawled upon her very -knees to Edmond to plead for mercy, but he was inexorable. The old -passion had been restored to his life, and her proud, voluptuous rival -held the sensual philosopher a prisoner, “rescue or no rescue,” once -more. - -For days and days after the tremendous realisation of her loss had been -forced upon her, she lay upon her bed, tossing in dumb and tearless -torture: then her concentrated madness took a new and sudden turn; she -shrieked and wailed, she cursed heaven, and earth, and men, and even -Edmond, with the lurid curses of madness, while she kissed the hand -and blessed the ministerings of the soft-gliding genius of her ruin, -who hung with a cunning science about her suffering bed. - -But Jeannette was clearly not the stuff to die of any one passion less -intense than her love of self. She came through at last, haggard and -broken, and humble enough, but she received her pension nevertheless, -and soon after sailed for England, leaving the field to her stronger -rival, to whom Edmond was soon afterwards married. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - - SELECT SCENES CONTINUED. - - -We have frequently mentioned the eccentric Dr. Weasel in the course -of this narrative. Another scene will enlighten the reader somewhat -in regard to the yet undefined character of his relations towards the -woman Marie. He had just entered her room; and approaching with a -quick, nervous step, he said to her in an irritated and squeaking voice— - -“Marie Orne, I tell you I must have my money back again! I did not give -it to you, when I advanced it to get you started in business. You were -to have returned it to me, long since! You have been doing well now -for two years and more, and yet instead of returning the money I first -advanced to you, you have been borrowing more than double as much! At -this moment you have more than five hundred dollars belonging to me, -of which you have never returned me a cent! Yet I have been suffering -for money, for months, and you know it! You know I cannot receive -remittances now, since the death of my grandmother, till the settlement -of our estate! I am tired of this treatment, Madam! I will have my -money!” - -The Doctor, who had been walking hurriedly up and down the room during -this speech, now paused abruptly before the woman, who had quietly -continued her writing— - -“Do you hear me?” he said angrily, in a loud, sharp tone. “Where is the -money you have plundered me of?” - -The woman now looked up, staring at him with wide-open eyes, that -expressed the most unutterable astonishment, while, at the same moment, -a bland smile broke across her face, while she exclaimed in a low, -sweet, reproachful voice— - -“Why, Doctor E. Willamot Weasel! What can you mean? My dear friend—_I_ -plunder you? You forget yourself! Remember what a feeble child you -were—how sad, how sick, how despairing, when I took hold of you, as the -tender nurse does the dying foundling at her door—” - -“I believe you had no door, till I gave you one!” interrupted the -Doctor, while his sharp little eyes shot fire. - -“This were all very fine, if it were only true: I advanced you my -money, not to pay you for curing me, which you have never accomplished, -but that you might do good with it; because I believed in your mission -to your sex! But I am not pleased with the use you—” - -“Does not that mission exist still?” said the woman, with flushing -brow, quickly interrupting him. “Has not the number of my patients -increased daily?—including the first ladies of the land? Have not my -lecture-classes become more full and widely-attended every season? Have -you not a thousand evidences, in the extent of my correspondence, that -women are becoming awakened throughout the country? What more do you -ask? Do you expect me to perform miracles?” - -“No! unless the expectation that you will deal honestly with those who -have befriended you, be what you call a miracle. Come, I know what all -this amounts to, perfectly! I gave you my money, as you know I dedicate -all that I have, in trust, for humanity! You seemed to be laboring -in common cause with myself, for the restoration of the Passional -Harmonies; and as you appeared to me capable of accomplishing much -for the great cause, I felt that I had no right to withhold my aid -from you when you needed it. I gave you my gold as freely as I would -have given you a drink of water, when athirst. But you have not been -just and true—you have used it selfishly—you have surrendered yourself -exclusively to the cabalistic sphere; your life is wasted in a series -of ignoble plottings; sensual intrigues merely, in utter disregard -of the harmonic relations. Do not interrupt me! I have watched you -closely; I know this to be true! Instead of elevating that noble soul, -Manton, whom I thought, through you, to rescue from the dominion of -his appetites, and see set apart, with all his glorious powers, to the -exalted priesthood of the Harmonies, you have steadily dragged him down -from the beginning until now, when he is further removed than ever -beyond our reach, and regards with contempt and disgust the very name -of the system with which I had yearned to see him identified. You have -done this, and all for your own individual and unworthy ends, and have -defeated one of my most treasured purposes!” - -“This is false!” shrieked the woman, as, with flushed face, and with -the aspect of a roused tigress, she sprang to her feet, and placed -herself directly across the track of the excited Doctor. - -“You lie in your teeth, you ingrate! It is not so! His own beastly -passions have degraded him, in spite of me! Just as I have failed to -make a man out of _you_, through your own weakness! For years I have -patiently wrestled with your downward tendencies, in the hope you, -too, might be redeemed—might be sa-a-ved from yourself! The money that -you have given me, I have earned twice over again, in these vain and -exhausting struggles to bring you back to the true health of unity with -God through nature! Your childish aberrations and eccentricities have -baffled all my spiritual strength! The proof of it is, that you dare -to taunt me in this way! I see that you are incorrigible! You may go! -Go from me forever! I am hopeless! I will no longer expend myself upon -you! Your money I shall keep until it is my convenience to restore it, -if ever! It is my due, and you may recover it if you can; I own nothing -here. The furniture of this house has all been loaned me. Seize it, if -you dare! Go, I say! Go! Leave my house instantly!” - -And she stamped her foot, and, waving her hand in melodramatic fashion -towards the door, repeated the imperative order to “begone!” - -We have mentioned, that the Doctor was a small man, and the woman was, -no doubt, fully conscious of her physical superiority over him, before -her coward and reptile nature could have dared to have assumed such a -tone. But she had mistaken the metal with which she had to deal. - -The Doctor had listened to this tirade with a cold, sardonic smile upon -his face, while his keen little eyes fairly snapped with scintillating -fury. - -“You are a fool!” said he, in a low, smooth tone, “as well as a -thief and an impostor! I’ll put you in the Tombs to-morrow, if you -do not at once lower your tone! And what is more, I will expose your -practices, fully and publicly. I will swear to the false pretences -by which you have swindled me out of my money. I will swear that you -have made overtures to me, time after time, as an equivalent for the -money you are dragging from me, to sell to me the chaste and gentle -Moione, whose unprotected poverty you have dared to think you could -traffic in! I will swear, too, that at one time you did not scruple -to suggest, by indirection, one much nearer to you; the true scope of -which suggestion, however artfully disguised, the world will readily -comprehend. Furthermore, I can now understand, perfectly, the secret -of all those physiological phenomena, by which you have managed to -delude and degrade Manton, not forgetting the disgusting fact, which -has become too apparent to me, that you are endeavoring to play off -Elna upon him, and, through his generous susceptibilities, to retain -him within the reach of your damnable arts! You are becoming aware -that he, too, is beginning to see through them, and through you. I have -never spoken a word, for I wished him to work out the problem himself! -I will secure even him from your clutches!” - -The woman made no attempt to reply. Her face became, of a sudden, as -white and rigid as death, and, muttering a few choked and guttural -sounds, she pitched forward suddenly, like a falling statue, against -the bosom of the irritated Doctor Weasel; who, not a little shocked -by the unexpected concussion, staggered backwards, for an instant, -in the utmost confusion, while her form fell upon the shaken floor. -He recovered his coolness, however, in another moment, and merely -muttered, as he left the room— - -“Pah! nonsense! The old trick—she’s purely in the subversive sphere—and -I can make nothing of her in the Passional Harmonies! We require purity -and singleness of purpose. She may go to the dogs, hereafter, for me.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - - FURTHER REVELATIONS. - - -Another year had now passed, which, although it found Manton not -entirely released from his thrall, had yet left him a calmer and a -stronger man. One by one the manacles had fallen off, unconsciously -to himself. Hope was slowly filling his darkened life once more with -visions of an emancipated future, and he now even dared to smile in -dreams. - -Whence came these fairy visitors? Ah, he did not understand yet, -clearly, in his own heart. He only felt and welcomed them, fresh-comers -from he knew not what far Eden of God’s ministers of grace. He did -not question them—it was joy enough to have had them come down to him -in his hell. Perhaps they were but airy counterparts of those sweet -children he had watched over with such fostering tenderness. - -But now at once a shadow fell upon his dream. Moione, the wise, the -resolute, and the gentle, seemed all at once to droop, to become -wavering and shy, while Elna grew more conscious in her impish -grace, and more exultant, more capriciously tender, more caressingly -electrical. Manton could not but observe that although Moione shrank -from him now, she held her pencil with a heavy hand, and worked with a -hopeless carelessness, while her lids drooped low and trembled often -with a furtive moisture. - -Another might have observed what he could not see, how at such times -the eyes of Elna lit with glistening joy, and how her spirit mounted -in rollicking ecstacies; how she danced and sang like some mad elf; -or else her drawing-sheet was spoiled while her pencil went riot over -it, in all fantastic drolleries of form, mocking characters, of every -sentiment, and worst of all that she mocked Moione, too, and made him -see her heavy brow, and covertly suggested painful questions. - -Manton would sometimes see enough of this to startle him gravely, and -make him question his own heart, long and painfully. Elna seemed to -watch these moods and dread them, and would break in upon them with -some wild antic or pouting caress. - -Suddenly Moione went away, without any other explanation than that -she should return to her mother in New England. The thing was done in -a cold and resolute way that left no room for explanation. She had -been here—she was gone; and strangely enough it was not until now that -Manton realised how much of light there had been from her presence. -Deep shade filled the places which had known her once, and it seemed -as if his vision had been filmed—as if the shadow of that shade filled -Heaven and darkened earth before him. He could not have explained why -this was so. It was a voiceless consciousness, through which he felt a -sense most indescribable, that made him first aware of a great want. It -seemed as if the moon and stars were gone, with their calm inspirations -of repose, their pure and holy beamings, and that their place about him -had been usurped by a red and sultry light, more garish than perpetual -day, and clouded in brazen unnatural splendors, too thick for those -star-pencillings to break through, or that chaste moon to overcome. - -As the weeping Elna clung about him now, he shuddered while he felt -that strange, new thrillings crept along his veins. Why had he not -felt this before, when Moione was beside them? Was he again given over -to the evil one? and had the white dove again been banished from his -bosom? These vague forebodings could never be entirely banished from -the heart of Manton, although the lavish tenderness of Elna, who, by -some strange instinct, seemed aware of the struggle, the shadow and the -cause, and wrought eagerly to dispel them. - -Elna was no longer a child, if, in reality, she ever had been since -Manton had known her. She became daily more and more lovely in his -eyes, which soon grew again accustomed to the unnatural atmosphere -surrounding him, though he yearned often for the calmer and the clearer -sky he had lost; yet she gave him little time to think of the past. -The preternatural activity into which her brain had been roused gave -him full employment in guiding its eccentric energies. And then the -bud had begun to unfold its petals, as well as give out its aroma. Her -sick and wilted frame seemed to have become suddenly inspired with a -tender and voluptuous sensuousness, which filled out her graceful limbs -in rounded, bounding vigor, and swelled her fine bust with its elastic -tension, and lit and deepened her keen eyes with most lustrous and -magnetic fires. - -He could not dream long among such conditions. One morning, as he sat -beside her at her drawing, she looked up suddenly into his face, and -with bewitching _naivete_ remarked— - -“This is my birthday—do you know how old I am?” - -“No, I never thought.” - -“Well, I am seventeen to-day.” - -“Seventeen! Great God! is it possible?” And Manton bowed his face, -covering it with his hands, and for a long time spoke not a word, -though his frame trembled. That magical word, “seventeen,” had -revealed every thing to himself. He had as yet always called her by -the affectionate baby-name of “Sis.” He had thought of her only as a -child; for through these four weary years he had kept no note of time. -He supposed, up to this moment, that he had been feeling towards her, -too, as towards a child—the same saddened, persecuted child which had -first attracted his sympathies by her mournful expression of constant -suffering. He had never once thought before that any change had taken -place in their relations; he had still fondled her as a spoiled and -petted playmate; he still attributed the strange thrills her touch had -lately produced in him to a thousand other and innocent causes beside -the real. He had not dreamed of passion; he had only learned to dearly -love her, as he thought, because she had been developed beneath his -hand, and seemed, in some senses, almost a creation of his own—a sort -of feminine elaboration of the thought of Frankenstein within him—the -creature of his own daring mind and indomitable will. Seventeen! -seventeen! Now the whole truth was flooded into his consciousness. She -was no longer a child—she was a woman. And he felt that he had indeed -loved her as a woman, while recognising her as a gay pet, a plaything. -He now understood how deep, how pure, was the unutterable fondness that -had grown thus unconsciously into his life, for her, and how monstrous -had been the relations into which the mother strove to drag and hold -him. - -With the first flash of this conviction of his real feeling towards -Elna, came the purpose, as stern as it was irrevocable. He lifted his -head and turned towards the young girl, with moistened eyelids, and -said to her solemnly, and with trembling lips— - -“Sis!—Elna, do you know that you are no longer a child? that you are -now a woman?” - -The blood sprang to her forehead, and, with downcast eyes, she said, in -a faint voice— - -“I know I’m seventeen to-day.” - -“Do you know, too, Elna, that we cannot continue to be to each other -that we have been?” - -“Why, can’t you be my brother still?” said she, looking up quickly, as -if astonished. - -“Because you are a woman, dear; and I realise now, for the first time, -that I love you as a woman.” - -Her dilated eyes glistened, for a moment, with a strange expression of -exultation, and, in another instant, she threw her arms about the neck -of Manton, and burst into the wildest expressions of mingled ecstacy -and grief, in the midst of which she sobbed out frequently. - -“My mother! my poor mother! what will she do? She will never consent to -this—it will kill her.” - -“Elna,” said Manton, calmly, disengaging her clasped hands from -about his neck, “your mother is an evil woman; I know, and you know, -something of her terrible passions. But she shall submit to this; -my will is her fate—she cannot escape me, now that it is thoroughly -aroused. She must bear it—she shall bear it, if it kills her. I shall -hold no middle ground; and she dare not stand before me, or openly -cross my track. This expiation is due from her to me. She has striven -to hideously wrong me, and wrong you, and she shall now reap the -consequences. I shall hold no terms with her; and you must make your -choice now, calmly, between us, for ever! I have not guarded you thus -for years, with sleepless vigilance, against her demonising influence, -to have you fall back at once into her talons. I know it is a fearful -thing to ask a child to do—to sunder all instinctive ties, and go apart -into the house of strangers; but where implacable evil dwells, purity -must look to be grieved in every contact, and there are no human ties -sufficiently sacred to justify pollution of soul and body in continuing -such contacts. I love you, Elna—I feel it now—I have loved you long, -unconsciously; I would make you my true and honored wife, within -another year—say the birthnight eve of eighteen. But mark me, you must -be separate from this horrid mother. Elna, which do you choose?” - -She threw herself hysterically upon his breast, sobbing— - -“You!—you! Ah, my poor mother! I see it all! there is no choice! Yours! -I am yours!—for ever yours! She is good to me sometimes; but I know she -is bad—you must shield me from her. But we will not go away at once—it -would kill her. Oh, my poor mother! my dear mother! this is hard!” and -she shuddered, as she clasped him more closely in her arms, and sobbed -yet more wildly still. - -Manton spoke in tender soothing to the gentle trembler, who continued, -amidst bursts of hysteric laughter, and smiles of stormy joy, to -moan—“Poor mother! how will she bear it?” - -Manton, at length, gently released himself from her caress, and placing -her head upon the cushion of the sofa, whispered, “Be calm, Elna! She -must bear it—she will bear it; it is a righteous retribution, that has -overtaken her at last. I go now to tell her every thing. Promise me to -be quiet, and wait till I return. She shall know her doom, in this same -sacred hour in which I have learned to know myself and you.” - -She buried her face in her hands and shivered as he turned away. - -He mounted the stairs with calm, unhurried step, and, tapping at the -door of the woman’s room, it was opened instantly, and she met him on -the threshold. Her eyes sought his as he entered, with a strange and -troubled glare of inquiry. His brow was fixed, and all his features -seemed just cast in iron. She reached out her hand to him, with a -vague, quick gesture; but he did not accept it. He stood up before -her, erect, rigid, and impassive. Her eye grew wilder, and a yet more -furtive and startled expression glanced across her face, as she gasped -out feebly— - -“What now! has it come?” - -“Yes!” answered Manton, with a cold, ringing, and metallic tone; “it -has come, woman! The same curse that your devilish arts brought upon -poor Jeannette, has now come home to roost. We are for ever severed, -and, on no pretence or artifice, shall you ever again come near me. -Know you, woman, that I love your child with an honest love—have come -to a realisation of the fact, and told her so.” - -She reeled and staggered backwards, shrieking— - -“Ah! ah! it has come at last! I felt it would be so!” - -There was something in her gait and manner so like stunned madness, -that Manton involuntarily sprang forward, to catch her wavering form in -his arms. She thrust aside his clasp, and, staggering towards the bed, -fell across it—not in a swoon, not in a bleeding-fit, but in a paroxysm -of weeping; in which the flood-gates of long years seemed suddenly -opened. There was no word, no sob, no gesture of impatience, but her -eyes ran always a clear flood of silent tears. - -Ha! ha! Etherial! has it come to thee at last? Is it thou that must -in turn be s-a-v-e-d? Where now thy disguises? Where thy unnatural -triumphs? O, woman! art thou woman, Etherial? - -To Manton, the phenomenon seemed more moving and inexplicable than any -we have yet described. She did not sleep, but always the tears poured -forth; and for twenty-four hours she did not change her posture, or -utter any word, but these, which sent a chill shiver through the frame -of Manton, as he heard them— - -“She will serve _you_ so, too!” - -Those words he could never forget. It was a weary watching beside that -bed, that Manton had to pass through before the incessant flow of tears -began to be checked, and the woman to recover something of her power of -speech, at intervals. - -The first thing now spoken was, “I must be content. It cannot be -escaped! She must be yours, if you can hold her!” - -A fearful “_if_” was that suggested to Manton; but he was too happy -after all this solemn travail, to notice its significance— - -“I shall try to reconcile myself to see you both made happy; while I -shall walk aside in the cold isolation of my duties to my mission among -women.” - -Manton, who had expected a much more sultry and formidable climax to -this critical scene, felt his heart bound with the sense of relief, as, -when after all this exhausting watch over that dumb and sleepless flow -of tears, the calm and unexpected philosophy of this conclusion came -to his consolation. He had anticipated a frantic, obstinate collision; -perhaps as savage as it might prove tragical. And his grateful surprise -may be conceived at the result. - -So soon as this result had been attained, he hastened to impart the -news to Elna, whose approach to her mother, while in this condition, -had been studiously guarded against by Manton. When he saw her, now, in -her own room, to which he eagerly hastened, she sprang about his neck, -exclaiming— - -“Will she bear it? Can she live?” - -“My darling, she has passed through a terrible struggle, but she has -now awakened to a recognition of what is, and has been, and must -continue to be, the falsehood of her purposed relation to me.” - -“Ah!” exclaimed the young girl rapturously, clasping his neck still -closer—“Now I may dare to love you as much as I please!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - - ANOTHER INTRIGUE. - - -With all the apparent amount of suffering which we have attempted -to describe above, Manton was no little astonished, not only at the -promptness and completeness of the recovery of the woman Marie, but at -the shortness of the time which she permitted to elapse before he found -her again engaged deep in a bold and characteristic intrigue. - -He had immediately determined that Elna should be separated from him -until the time of the proposed marriage had approached. While she was -to be sent to New England to prosecute her studies under the charge of -an artist friend, he himself proposed to spend the greater part of the -year in the northern mountains, hunting, fishing and exploring. - -But before this prudent and proper step could be taken, a week or so -of preparation became necessary. It was only a week since the woman -had risen from her bed, a showery Niobe, as we have seen, when Manton -entered the house one morning at an hour when he was not expected, -he met the woman gliding hastily through a passage, with one of the -sleeves of her dress gone. The meaning of this sign at once flashed -across him, for he remembered to have seen that fair and beautiful -arm, by skilful accident, exposed to his own gaze during her first -attempts at diverting and exciting his passions, and he shrewdly -conceived that there must be some new victim on hand, even already. - -“Ha!” said he maliciously, as she was hurrying past. “Why, what’s -become of your sleeve this morning?” - -The woman flushed very red, and her eye turned obliquely upon him as -she muttered confusedly— - -“I—I’ve lost it!” - -“Ah, well, come! Let us look for it! Let us find it! The morning is too -cold! I will help you! I fear you will suffer!” - -“No, no, never mind! I will find it myself!” - -“But I insist! We must find it at once, before you take cold! Come, we -will look in the parlor!” And he made a movement of his outstretched -hand as if to open the door. - -She clutched him nervously, saying in a low whisper— - -“Don’t go in there, I have a visitor!” - -But as Manton only smiled at this and showed no disposition to desist, -she continued in an imploring voice— - -“Don’t go in! Mr. Narcissus, the editor, is there! I will get the -sleeve and put it on immediately! Don’t disturb us now; I am just -reading to him the MS. of my new novel, which I hope he will undertake -to publish in his paper!” - -“Well,” said Manton, quietly stepping back, “it must be confessed you -are prompt in finding alternatives! I wish you success in your new -publishing enterprise! And I suppose this bare arm is to have nothing -to do with his anticipated commentary upon your text!” - -Manton turned away with a light laugh, but the look which was sent -after him would have chilled his very soul could he have met it. His -sneering conjecture was only too true. She had already fastened upon -a new victim. But for once it turned out that it was “file cut file.” -She had at last met her equal in all that was detestable—her peer in -baseness, and only an under-graduate to _her_ in cunning. - -She had selected him as she did all her victims, with reference to -social and pecuniary position. He was at the time a co-editor and -ostensible part-owner of one of the most brilliant and successful -weekly papers of New York. She had always aspired to command -an “organ.” And anything in that line, from a review down to a -thumb-paper, to her restless ambition, was better than nothing. For by -a process more hideous to the world than anomalous in fact, she had -come to reconcile any degree of private intrigue, by balancing it with -the value of abstract teachings for the public good, under that liberal -postulate of the school to which she belonged, that the end justifies -the means. - -In setting herself down for a regular siege before this newspaper -establishment, she had first in her eye, all three of the associate -owners. It was a matter of entire indifference to her, through which -she succeeded in obtaining an entrance to its columns, which might -lead to her control of the future tone of the paper. She opened the -investment in the usual form; first, by visiting them alone, in -their offices; then by bombarding them, from the distance of her own -writing-table, with a constant hail of those snow-white missives, with -the sugared contents of which we have before been made acquainted. - -They were each privately and successively pronounced in their own ears, -and under seal of those crow-quilled envelopes, to be “naughty boys,” -whose proud and wilful natures were driving them headlong to ruin—to -be sons of genius, who only required to be saved from themselves and -their own vices, by her, to become the illustrious reformers of the -age! One of them smoked too much—was making a “chimney of his nose,” -through which he was exhaling spiritual mightiness, that might equalise -him with the cherubim, if only free! But this unhappily did not tell; -the shrewd and wary business-man, who knew more about coppers than -cherubim, and was by no means conscious of the spiritual prowess she so -pathetically attributed to him, “smoked” her, or her motive at least, -and threw the dainty correspondence aside, with a jeering laugh. - -The other, who was really chief editor, and a handsome and talented -fellow, might not have got off so well, had he not been pre-occupied, -and predisposed to bestow the exalted attributes which she had -discovered in him, in another direction. He was duly grateful to her, -however, for the discovery that he was a child of genius; and, though -a little disposed to be suspicious, could not, for some time, restrain -the expression of his delight at having met with a lady possessing such -unquestionable and extraordinary discrimination. - -He was a jovial and generous fellow, though very shrewd and suspicious -withal. She was not quite aware of the last two attributes, and -therefore expected a great deal from him, as he proverbially drank -too much. She therefore opened her batteries mercilessly upon this -weakness, which, as she affirmed, combined with the horrible practice -of chewing to excess, was demonising an “Archangel! Dragging down the -loftiest spirit of his age! A spirit that might guide the destinies -of the human race, and rule it, whether for evil or for good.” She -particularly desired his salvation. She prayed for it, day and night! -She had a spiritual monition that he could be saved; and the fact was, -he would be saved, if he would only listen to her counsel! Indeed, she -might guarantee he _should_ be saved, if he would only give up his -poisons, and dedicate the columns of his paper to the great cause of -progressive hygiene and popular physiology. In a word, the fact was, he -_must_ be saved, whether he wanted to be or not! - -But the trouble was, our editor was a person who would do nothing on -compulsion. And when he found that such a powerful edict had gone -forth, that he _must_ be saved, he swore, in his benighted obstinacy, -that he would be —— if he would! - -This led, through his spleen, to an explanation between himself and -the business-man of the firm, and what was their mutual astonishment, -on privately comparing “notes,” to find that one was absolutely a -“Cherubim,” and the other an “Archangel!” They looked at each other -with a blank stare of surprise. The tawney, lean, angular, iron-jawed -face of the business-man suggested anything but the plump and dimpled -outlines of that prolific progeny of winged infants, which Raphael has -rendered so illustrious. While, in contrast, the features of the young -editor were remarkable for their plump and childlike freshness. - -“Why!” shouted the business-man, with a tremendous guffaw, “there’s a -great mistake here—she has clearly misdirected the notes. You should be -the cherub!” - -The breath of a simultaneous roar of laughter dissipated all her -fine-spun web, in these two directions at least. She was more -successful, however, with the third party. - -Manton had been deceived, egregiously, in regard to this man’s past -history, or he would never have permitted him to pass the threshold -of the house where he lived. He had known him only as ostensibly -associate editor of a highly-respectable paper, and therefore had not -felt himself called upon to interfere in any way. Although he had, as -we have perceived, early indications of his having become a frequent -visitor at the house. - -To have gone any higher in her classification of him than she had -already gone in that of his associates, would have puzzled any less -versatile genius than hers. But as cherubim and archangel had already -been used up, she placed him among the “principalities and powers in -heavenly places,” and there he decided to stick. It was certainly time -for him to be pleased with elevation of some sort, for, as it turned -out afterwards, when his history became better understood by Manton, -he was one of those slugs, or barnacles of the press, that cling about -and slime the keels of every noble and thought-freighted bark. From -the precarious and eminently honourable occupation of writing obscene -books for _private_ circulation, “getting up” quack advertisements, -interpolating the pages of Paul De Kock with smearings of darker -filth than ever his mousing vision had yet discovered in the sinks -and gutters of Paris, he had gradually risen, through his facile -availability, to the _sub rosa_ respectability of a well-paid “sub” in -a respectable office—I say _sub rosa_, for it seems to have been well -understood, in New York, that the appearance of his name, at the head -of the columns of any paper, would be sufficient to damn it, outright, -so linked had it become with sneaking infamy of every sort. - -However, _this_ “child of genius” and Madame progressed bravely towards -a mutual understanding; and billets-doux flew between them thick as -snow-flakes. As for their contents, the reader is, by this time, pretty -well prepared to conjecture. Interviews, from weekly to semi-weekly, -crowded fast upon each other’s heels; until, at last, Manton began to -perceive that, not only was the sleeve lost every day, but that the new -novel, like the pious labor of the needle of Penelope, “grew with its -growth.” - -About this time, however, it came to his knowledge, that this highly -respectable literary personage, Mr. Narcissus, had been as notoriously -abject in his private relations as he had been in those to the press. -However, as he had determined to drag Elna from beneath the clutches -of her mother, and to sever all remote, or even possible connection -between them, he did not feel himself called upon to do more than -announce the fact to Madame that the fellow was even now an infamous -stipendiary to a party no less infamous than himself, who had privately -furnished him, out of her ill-gotten gains, the money to buy his share -in the weekly paper she was so ambitious of controlling, through him. -As he had now to expect, she received the news with the most refreshing -coolness, and merely remarked, that it was no fault of hers that this -bad woman had loved Mr. Narcissus; that he possessed great talent in -affairs; could be made of much use in the cause of human progress and -advancement—in a word, deserved to be saved, and to save him she meant. -She should rescue him from such gross and debasing associations, and -give to his astonishing energies a nobler bent; that his future life, -under her inspiration and guidance, should be made to atone for the -past. - -This logic seemed so very conclusive and characteristic, that Manton -made no reply, but a shudder, at the thought of that _saving_ process, -to which, despicable as he was, a new victim was to be subjected. But -it was no part of his plan to divert her from her purpose; for he -wished, by all means, to see her active and dangerous energies employed -in any direction, save that of the subversion and counteraction of his -own design in regard to her daughter. - -Elna, in a few days after, was sent to New England, with the -understanding between Manton and herself, that she would by no means -consent to return to her mother, until he himself should come back from -his tour, and should send for her. He did not dare to trust her for an -hour beneath the accursed shadow of this domestic Upas, that had given -her birth; and more particularly did he dread the hideous combination -of influences which were likely now to be brought to bear upon her, -as Madam had openly announced her intention, since she had obtained a -divorce from her former husband, to marry the delectable Narcissus. - -We may as well dispose of this affair at once, by remarking, that in -a few months afterward she did marry him; that the unfortunate woman, -who had heretofore so long lived with and loved Narcissus, instantly -withdrew the support which her ill-gotten gains furnished; and that, -asserting her right to the share which he had pretended to own in the -property of the paper, and disclosing the whole of his infamy to his -former partners, the cherubim and archangel indignantly kicked him out -of doors, and at once toppled about the astonished ears of Madame all -her castles in the air reared, with regard to “controlling a powerful -organ.” - -But Madame, as we have perceived, was possessed of one of those elastic -natures which always rebound from collisions, or which, in a word, -“never say die;” so that, instead of being discouraged by this untoward -conclusion of her ambitious schemes, she set herself to work forthwith -to make the best of a bad bargain; and, as she had already exhibited -her passion for professional spouses, in immediately converting her -first and dear Ebenezer, into an M. D., she could not do less than make -a Doctor out of her beloved Narcissus. - -It did not matter to her that both of them were ludicrously -ignorant—that neither of them had probably ever read a book clear -through in their lives; parchments were dog-cheap in New York, and -could be had any day for an equivalent in hard coin. She accordingly -“put him through;” and in something less than three months, one more -legalised murderer was turned loose upon society, under the cabalistic -ægis of M. D. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - - REANIMATION. - - -Amidst the green and savage solitude of pine-haired hills, -wild-bounding streams, and islet-fretted lakes, asleep, ’twixt gleam -and shadow, where the bellowing moose still roused the echoes, and the -light deer whistled to the brown bear’s growl, and the trout leaped, -flashing from its clear, still home, Manton renewed his life once more, -in refreshing communion with nature. - -It was not till now that he realised how terribly he had suffered -during his long and hideous bondage. His physical health had been -shockingly impaired; the elasticity of his constitution seemed to be -gone forever; but it was only in the presence of Nature, with whom -there are no disguises, that he could first comprehend, in all its -ghastliness, the mental and spiritual deterioration that had gradually -supervened. He scarcely knew himself, now that he had found his way -back to the only standard of comparison. He was profoundly humiliated, -but not utterly despairing. - -He felt his chest already beginning to play more freely, and a deadly -sense, as if a thousand years of suffocating oppression had lain upon -his lungs, was beginning to be dissipated before the pure air of the -mountains, and the exciting pre-occupations of angling and the chase, -in the rough wilderness-life he now led; and beside, there was the -image of that wizard child, that had so grown in beauty beneath his -hand, that sat forever in his heart, glowing and fair, to warm it -with a new life of hope. How studiously his fancy exalted her. Each -fortnight brought him a package of her daily letters; and though in -spite of his isolation, and his idealising enthusiasm, as he eagerly -read and re-read them all a thousand times, and carried them near his -heart, to keep the glow there all alive, he could not help realising at -times, with mournful presentiment, their hollowness, the entire absence -of ingenuousness and natural dignity which mostly characterised them. -He would feel his flesh creep strangely too, as he recognised their -close resemblance in artificiality of sentiment and tone, to those -first letters he had received from her mother. - -But he earnestly strove to banish all such impressions; he felt as if -they were profane, as if they were a monstrous wrong to her, as well as -to himself. That she was too young as yet to have developed into the -full faculty of expression; that she was timid, and dared not trust -herself to speak freely out; that she feared his sharp criticism, and -did not say everything that her soul moved her to speak; that she -dreaded his analysis; and, in a word, had not quite overcome, in her -feelings towards him, the instinctive apprehension of the master, the -preceptor, which so long lingers in a youthful mind; and this very -timidity, of all things, he was desirous of removing, as he felt that, -so long as it remained in her mind, the full and entire reciprocation -of confidence, which the jealous exclusiveness of passion demands, -could not take place. He felt that it was a most hazardous experiment -he had been unconsciously making, in thus attempting to develope -and educate a wife, especially under circumstances so unusual and -ill-omened. He therefore fatally persisted in blaming himself for the -self-evident shallowness of Elna’s letters; and would not hear to the -whispers of his common sense, that the child was a mere chip of the old -block. - -So that still, in spite of his determined idealisation of her, while -these evidences stared him in the face with each new, yearned-for, -and eagerly-welcomed budget of letters from her, they only served -to fill him, to a more sensitive degree, with the dangers of this -excessive timidity, and the necessity of greater spiritual activity -and tenderness of treatment on his part, that might arouse her to a -more full realisation of the sacred confidences which love implies. -His letters to her overflowed with natural eloquence; and all that was -chastening, ennobling, fair and pure, in the inspirations surrounding -him, were lavished in the prodigality of an absorbing and overflowing -affection upon this fair, hollow idol, that his passion alone had -rendered all divine. - -This brooding, constantly and long, upon a single image, amidst the -solemn privacies, the wild and drear solemnities of primeval nature, -was quite sufficient to give, in time, to any nature possessing -the intensity of that of Manton, a sultry tinge of monomania in -reference to it. This was clearly the case with him now. Her image, -glorified through his imagination, now filled all his life; he saw -her everywhere—where the beautiful might be, it took some shade of -semblance to her—where the wild-flowers gave out their odors to the -breeze, it was to him the aroma of her presence; when the wild berry -tingled his palate in a nameless ecstacy of flavor, the taste was of -his sense of her, when, in their last kiss, her lips were touched to -his. - -But it is a strange thing that, with all the fervor of this passional -attraction, he never dreamed of her at all; she never came to his soul -when his senses were asleep. This single fact might have warned a man -of imagination less excited than Manton. This happy delusion had at -least one good effect, as it enabled him, by a single effort, to throw -off all his dangerous habits, and return from his tour, to New York, -with a freshened and invigorated frame, and a soul chastened indeed, -but filled with wild and eager hopes of the golden-hued Utopia he had -framed out in the wilderness. - -Elna had returned and met him. Alas! how his heart sank as, on the -meeting, he felt the rainbow-hues all melting from out the visionary -sky, and he took into his arms a cold, overacting, artificial semblance -of his passionate ideal! He felt as if the sky had turned to lead, -and fallen on him; and the first image recalled to his mind, was of -the sick and monkey-imp, soulless and animal-eyed, that he had years -ago rescued, in compassion, from the demon-talons of the mother. He -clutched her desperately to his heart, endeavoring to recall the soul -he missed, and that she had lost, while he had been away. He felt as -if there were fire enough in his own veins to make a soul—to fill that -delicate and graceful organisation with a subtler element, that might -answer to the ravin of his sympathies. - -No such response as he yearned for came; but he felt instantly, from -the contact of her hand, that fierce and sultry thrill, the memory -of which had lingered so long with him, tinging his imagination with -a lurid light amidst the white clear calm of nature’s inspirations. -He would not give up now; he had loved too long already—or, rather, -the habit of confounding passion with love, had become too confirmed -with him, for it to be readily possible that he should make the clear -distinction between images nurtured in his own mind and the objective -reality. It was his own mistake; he had expected too much of the -child—he must give her time to gain confidence and speak out herself. - -Infatuated man! She only wanted a few hours’ contact to speak out -himself to himself, through the Odic medium! - -And so it proved. Her organisation soon took the key-note from his, -and, in a few hours, responded as rapturously as he could desire, to -the most vehement expressions of his enthusiasm. - -First and foremost, she showed to him the drawings that she had made -during their long probation. Among them were some, so characterised by -a firm, exquisite delicacy of handling, that Manton regarded them with -delighted wonder,—more especially as the defect in Elna’s pencilling, -which he had always noticed and lamented, had been precisely contrasted -with the excellences here displayed. Elna’s had, with all its gay and -mocking eccentricity, always been trembling and uncertain. The want of -smooth and poised directness in her harsh, rude handling, had often -been contrasted by him in his lessons to her, upon art, with the clear, -firm, and mathematical precision of the lines of Moione. He could not -but exclaim impulsively, on examining them curiously— - -“Why, dearest, you have equalled the brightest excellence of the style -of Moione in these. Ah, how I love you for this! you are deserving of -all that I have dreamed and thought and felt of you, since I have been -away.” - -The blushing girl slid into his embrace; and that moment was to -Manton a sufficient compensation for all the self-degradation and the -humiliating conditions through which he had passed. He was now to -attain the coveted crown and glory of his life, as he conceived. An -artist-wife! Capable, inspired, true, and a “help-mate” indeed, through -whose assistance and tutored skill he might embody in realisation those -fleeting and majestic creations which visited him, not alone in dreams, -but in the real impersonations of his habitual thought. It had been a -dream of such chaste beauty, that all these visionary forms might be -transfigured to him in the alembic of art, through love, and become, in -form and color, fireside realities of the canvass. - -We shall see how vague and empty was this fanciful dream, as yet. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - - THE SEPARATION. - - -Had it ever occurred to Manton to reason at all upon the subject of -his passion for this girl Elna, or had it been possible for him, under -the circumstances which had lately surrounded his life, to reason -concerning her, in any sense, he must and would have felt how ominous -such a passion in reality was. To be sure, he did not feel that the -relations into which it had been attempted to drag him by the mother, -had ever been voluntary or accepted on his part; he had loathed and -rebelled against them from the first. - -But this did not, in reality, make the fact of his having continued -near her—to occupy the same house—any the less offensive to the moral -sense; for, taking the best aspects of the case, the durance had not -been a physical one, and he might, if he had so willed, have walked -himself bodily off, and thus escaped this horrible entanglement; but -he had not done so. Although we have endeavored, as some extenuation, -to trace the reasons why he had not thus acted, yet we have found no -excuse sufficient, in all this, for the new sin he has committed, in -daring to love, and contemplating honorable marriage, even, with the -daughter of such a mother. But we have naught to extenuate, naught to -set down in malice, in this too fatally true narrative; we have related -it because it is true, and because we felt it to be our duty to do -so, that others might be warned of these things, which may, perhaps, -enlighten the reader somewhat, as to the character of the new thraldom -to which Manton has been subjected. - -It must always be borne in mind, in speaking of Manton and measuring -his actions, that although the nervous sanguine temperament -predominated to an extraordinary degree in this man’s organisation, -the tendencies of his mind were, nevertheless, unusually conservative. -This rendered him, necessarily, a man of _habits_; and therefore, more -than usually liable to suffer from gradual and constant encroachment: -for, if his quick sense has not instantly detected the danger on its -first presentation—if his ear has not recognised the serpent’s hiss -at once among the flowers, his fearless hand would soon be caressing -the shining reptile, and bear it, it might be, even to his own bosom. -It was this tenacity of habits which had rendered him so easy to be -imposed upon. Nothing was so difficult for him to throw off as a habit; -for, from the intensity of his nature, it always cost him the suffering -of a strong excitement before its chains could be broken. - -Manton found, very soon after his return, that what he most dreaded -now, was to be at once precipitated, which was a separation between -himself and Elna. Not that he did not fully concede to the general -propriety and prudence of such a step; for he remembered that he had at -once proposed the previous separation, when he came to understand the -nature of his feelings towards her; but that had been when she was to -be placed beyond the reach of her mother, and they could be both out of -town at the same time; but now that his business made it imperative for -him to remain in New York, if he dreaded before lest she be left with -the mother one day even, were not the same causes operating still, and -with redoubled force, when, in addition to her baleful contact, he had -to contemplate that of the creature she had married? - -The moral and spiritual grime of such a contact was enough to blast an -angel’s bloom—to sully the purest wing that ever winnowed dream. He -must be there to shield his fair treasure always, till the time had -come when he could snatch her for ever beyond their reach. But the war -had now fairly opened. - -On the very day of his return, Manton had been not a little astonished -to find the heretofore abject and cringing mother turn upon him, -suddenly, with a lofty insolence, that seemed at first incredible; but -his surprise and anger rapidly gave way to wonder and stunned amaze, -at finding her exhibiting the most unparalleled phenomena of brazen, -grave, deliberate falsehood that ever still imagination, in bottomless -conceit, had conjured as the thought of demons in dark hell. This was -yet, strange as it may seem, a most terrible realisation to have come -upon his life; though he had, up to this time, known that she was -unscrupulous, as far as the attainment of influential connexions, for -the dissemination of her theoretical views, was concerned—that she was, -in this respect, a dangerous and an evil woman—that her influence would -make her presence deadly to purity, in her own or the other sex; yet, -he had not learned to regard her as utterly God-forsaken. The veil was -now lifted. The scales that had remained fell forever from his eyes. -She now stood revealed, not as he had heretofore striven to palliate -his convictions concerning her—the ferocious fanatic of one idea—the -cunning and detestable Jesuit of a “A cause”—but as the incarnation -of unnatural passions and a demonised selfishness. He trembled to -his heart’s core at the thought of that fair young girl, whom he had -learned to love, being left to the tender mercies of a monster such as -this. He saw at once the whole nefarious scheme that had been concocted -between herself and her worthy coadjutor. - -This was but the initial step. This precipitation of a quarrel with -himself, which would bring about at least a partial separation with -Elna, and then their subsequent game would slowly and surely accomplish -the rest. Was it likely that a wretch like this pink of delicacy, -Narcissus, who had before, for years, been steeped to the lips in -that monstrous traffic, the sale of bodies as well as souls, would -quietly permit to slip through his fingers a lovely and fascinating -girl as Elna had now grown to be, over who’s value, in dollars and -cents, he had gloated from the first? or was it likely that his worthy -consort, who had clearly learned to appreciate the convenience of such -speculations, would not fully coincide with him in his view of the -policy of defeating Manton, who, in the event of success, would be sure -to separate her from them as far as the poles are sundered? - -We shall now see how far the young lady herself was likely to, or had -already, become a party to such utilitarian views. - -Manton had left the house, and taken board elsewhere. The same evening, -he visited Elna, who received him alone, in the warm, well-lighted, and -neatly-arranged parlor. Manton had come in the most hopeless mood, for -all the results of this separation had been most fully and painfully -impressed upon him since the first indication of the rupture that had -led to his quitting the house. - -The young girl sprang eagerly to meet him, and with a bounding caress -clasped his neck, exclaiming— - -“Dearest one, you must not look so sad! We are to have the parlor -thus every evening, when you shall come to see me; when we shall -be very stately and proper folk. I shall play the dignified matron -in anticipation, and you shall be my very wise and solemn lord and -master. Mother is not to permit any interruption, and we shall have -such nice and easy times. Come, sit down here by my side, and let us -begin to play stately. And clear up that gloomy brow of yours, for I am -determined that we shall be happy!” - -Manton could only smile faintly, as he seated himself. - -“Ah, heedless child, you do not see in all this gay vision, the black -and deadly realities that couch within its shadows! I understand your -mother’s game fully. This will not last long; and you are about to be -sorely tried, my little love!” - -His head fell back heavily, and his eyelids drooped with an expression -of unutterable despondency. Elna, who had been watching him eagerly, -now flew to his side, and taking his head gently on her shoulder, -commenced caressing his face in a peculiar manner. She did not -absolutely touch it, but her lips crept over certain portions with -a slow snake-like motion, while the deep heavings of her chest, -disclosed that she was breathing heavily upon them, and a certain -greenish dilation of the pupil of her eyes revealed—what? Ah, horror! -and she so young! What? what! is that the mother’s art? Let us see. - -The lines of the man’s face are sunken in the expression of hopeless -prostration. Soon a slight twitching of the nerves becomes evident, -then a faint smile breaks across its pallor; the inspirations become -deeper, and she breathes with almost convulsive energy. The glowing -air lingers and burns along the sensitive temple, and now it pauses -on the cheek, close beside the ear—ha! her arm is about his neck; is -it a wonder that the blood mounts flushing to that man’s cheek and -forehead, that his eyes fly open filled with wild and vivid fires, that -a shuddering thrill is running through his frame, as he stretches forth -his arms to her, with a low, ecstatic laugh, of passionate yearning, -while she clings about him, and their lips meet, in a burning, -lingering kiss, and then, with a light laugh, she springs beyond his -reach, and dances in tantalising mockery about him, permitting him but -to touch her for a moment, eluding his grasp, with yet more subtle -sleight, until exhausted by morbid excitement the unfortunate man sinks -upon the sofa? - -This picture is only but too real. But why should Manton have endured -the repetition of a scene like this? He was a man of habits, and for -years, before a thought of passion had for once intruded upon him, -this young girl, under the sacred shield of childhood, had been taught -to approach him with fondling caresses. There seemed no danger then, -but when the real time for danger came, he felt a vague and general -monition of it, yet failed to locate it where it really rested. These -caresses had become so dear and natural to him; they seemed so harmless. - -He blamed only himself, cursed only the unetherialised grossness of his -own nature. There was to him far too much of affection and accustomed -tenderness in all this to arouse his suspicions for a moment. He hated -only himself, and strove on each of these now frequent occasions, to -chasten, by the severest self-inflicted penance, his own soul. - -In the meanwhile, this modern Tantalus grew thinner and more pale each -day; was wasting rapidly to a shadow, beneath such scenes as we have -witnessed. - -The girl, Elna, grew fairer and more strong each day—seeming to have -fed upon his slow consumption. - -We will not dwell upon such pictures farther. It was enough that -all the consequences dreaded by Manton followed, in slow, but sure -progression, and that the last blow the subtle couple struck at him was -fully characteristic and consummated the separation. - -Elna had seen little, as yet, of public amusements, and her strong -imitative faculty had led her to express a passion for the stage, -which Manton greatly dreaded, and had particularly wished to guard her -against, until her mind should become more fully developed, and until -he, himself, should possess the legal right to attend her, upon all -such occasions. He had, therefore, at all times resolutely opposed her -going to any public place of amusement, unless he could accompany her. -But now it happened that, being engaged in bringing out a new work, -with the press only twenty-four hours behind him, urging him inexorably -for a certain amount of daily matter, which left him no leisure -whatever, except a few moments, which he wrested from the vortex, for -the short evening re-union with her he so loved, he had, therefore, no -time left to accompany her to such places. - -Here the enterprising couple saw at once their advantage; the mother -understood what Manton did not, the extreme shallowness of the -character he had thus perseveringly idealised. She at once laid siege -to her passion for dress and display, as well as novelty. They bought -her fine and showy clothes, and urged her first to accompany them to -concerts, then to theatres, and then to public balls. - -When the young girl first came to Manton, all flushed with eagerness, -to show him her finery, and ask him if she might not go with her dear -mother and her new “papa,” he felt his heart sink unutterably within -him. He reasoned with her long and earnestly, endeavoring to make her -understand how impossible it was for a woman, who was to become his -wife, to appear at any public assembly in the city of New York, with a -person so notorious as this, whom she had thus, suddenly, learned to -style “papa.” - -But he soon found it to be all in vain; for, when he told her if she -would only be content to wait a few weeks until his book had been -published, that he would himself dedicate any amount of time she might -require to visiting such places with her, she still urged that she -did not see why it was improper for her to accompany the man whom her -mother had married, to any public place—that her new dresses were so -beautiful—that she wished to attend this magnificent concert. - -Manton sighed heavily and only answered in a mournful voice to her -repeated entreaties— - -“Alas! poor child, my dream is nearly over! I see they have bought you -with the tinsel of a fine dress and new ribbons!” - -The child wept and fondled and caressed; but all her arts failed -this time. His heart felt like lead within him; and he no longer had -nerves with life enough to be played upon. But she went that night, -nevertheless, and the great gulf had sunk impassably between them. - -Manton was now again a madman. In the pride of his hopeful love -he had built magnificent schemes, which his singular energies had -rapidly placed upon the firm basis of realisation; it only required -the calm exercise of his own will to consummate all and make his name -illustrious. But he had not labored for himself—and she, for whom -all had been achieved, was no longer his—she was gone—utterly gone! -She had sold her birthright, and was no longer his. The world became -dark, its honors and its ambitions as nothing. To recount the wild and -desperate extravagance by which he dashed to earth all that he had -achieved, as the heartless and hideous shallowness of the phantom -soul he had been worshipping, became, with each day, more apparent, -would be only painful to the reader, who can well understand what to -expect from the recklessness of such a madman. Suffice it that the -separation was complete. He last saw her, but for an instant, on her -eighteenth birthnight, to commemorate which, the mother, in pursuance -of her schemes, had assembled a large party at her house. This was to -have been their wedding-night; and Manton, though long since hopelessly -separated from her, could not resist the passionate desire to see once -more, upon this night, to which he had so long looked forward with holy -raptures, that face and form. - -He rang the bell, and, by a curious instinct, she recognised the -characteristic pull, and met him alone at the door. She was lovely, -radiant even, as she had sometimes come to him in his wild imaginings. -Dressed in pure white, with a wreath of flowering myrtle resting -lightly on her brow. There was a look of exultation on her face -which she had not been able to throw off, as she came forth from the -admiration of the crowded room. Manton took her hand— - -“Ah, child, you are very lovely now—you look just as I dreamed you -would look on this night, when you were to have been my bride. My -eyes are filled with blood, now! I cannot see you any more! Farewell! -farewell!” and he rushed from the door into the dark street, while she, -who had spoken no word, made no attempt to detain him, turned coldly -back, and entered, with a beaming face, the scene of her new triumph. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - - DESPAIR. - - “The white feet of angels yet upon the hills.” - - -Months and months had passed, and yet this wretched man was staggering -on, not this time drunk, literally, but, as though blinded by red -blood oozing from his brain, which had been crushed by the weight -of this blow. He was wandering vaguely hither and yon, distracting -his brain in ineffectual chimeras, the very impossibilities of their -success affording to him their greatest attraction. But gradually -all this maddened struggle had been settling down into one sultry, -close, inevitable conclusion of sullen self-destruction, which must -result from the continued precipitation, upon conditions that promised -death in one form or other. He went to Boston while the cholera was -raging there at its worst. The pretence of the visit was some wild, -distracting scheme that he had seized upon, and in which he was -endeavoring to secure co-operation there. - -But unfortunately for his mad purpose, since that very separation -from daily contact with the girl Elna, which was working so sadly -upon his imagination now, his attenuated and exhausted physique had -rapidly recovered all its inherent vigor, and in animal health and -strength he had suddenly become, by an inexplicable reaction, more -prodigally abounding than ever for many years. So that fate seemed to -have closed up to him any ordinary means of getting rid of himself, -except the pistol and the dagger, from the use of which his manliness -unconquerably revolted. - -But by a strange process of self-delusion, he had managed to confound -himself into the idea that the abject cowardice of the act of suicide -might be avoided by a species of half unconscious indirection. For -instance, cholera was rife in the city, and he well knew that long -warm baths, by relaxing the system, would lay it more open to the -attacks of any epidemical tendencies that might be prevalent; and -accordingly, without ever venturing to explain to himself why, he -continued, day after day, to take these long hot baths, and then to eat -and drink, in the quietest possible way, everything that was specially -to be avoided at such a time. - -While this novel process was thus coolly progressing, he one morning -met, by the merest accident, on State Street, a person whom he knew to -have been long and intimately the friend of the lost Moione and her -family. Manton eagerly asked him if he knew where she could now be -found; for, strange enough, her calm image had lately intruded often -into the darkened vistas of his thought, from whence he had supposed -her banished long ago. - -Her address was promptly given: it was in a remote and humble district -of the city; and, although Manton already felt the seeds of the -disease, which he had thus pertinaciously invited, rioting within him, -yet he vowed to himself that he would at once seek her. His first visit -failed; but the second found her, thin and wan, stretched on a lounge, -awaiting she knew not whom. - -With a short cry of sudden joy, as she recognised his features, she -sprang to meet him, as of old, with a childish caress. Ah, why was -it that he felt such sullen cold, and yet saw light, falling like -star-beams upon the midnight of his soul, as his arms met this fond and -childish clasp? He did not understand it—but we shall see! - -The physical results, which he had so assiduously courted, could not -be avoided. As he had walked about among his friends already for -several days, with the premonitory symptoms of the fatal epidemic -fully developed in his system, and as fully understood by himself, yet -without the adoption, on his own part, of one single precautionary -step, it was now sure to wreak its worst. Some, who could not help -observing his ghastly appearance, thought him monstrously reckless, -and others, hopelessly insane. - -Regardless of every remonstrance, he still kept his feet, until, at -length, the third evening found him leaving his hotel, in a hack, which -he ordered to be driven to the home of Moione; and from which he had to -be carried, by the driver, into the parlor, where he sank upon what he -supposed to be the last couch upon which he should recline in life. A -strange, indestructible feeling, that he must die beneath her eye, had -urged him to this last and desperate exertion of the feeble vitality -remaining in him. He had lain himself there to die; but why the strange -purpose that she should minister to his passing breath? Was it only -here that peace could be found for him? - -Moione was alone, with a timid, young, and undeveloped sister. Their -mother was accidentally away that night; having been detained by the -illness of a friend, joined with the inclemency of the night, which -set in in darkness and storm, in terror, in thunder, and in blaze. -In the meantime, the paroxysms of cholera had commenced upon the -enfeebled frame of Manton; and the black fear of the night outside only -corresponded to the convulsed and writhing agonies which now tossed -him to and fro, in helpless, but most mortal agonies. The thunder -crashed, and the frail house shook, and the fierce pangs shot along -his quivering nerves, as vividly as any blinding burst of lightning -from without. The darkness which surrounded him had been penetrated by -a calm, pure light, that dimmed not nor trembled before the blinding -blast. A voice, the soft, clear, cheerful tones of which vibrated not -to the quick rattling of thunder-crashes from without, told him of -strength and hope, of peace and a calm future, in the life yet beyond -him on the earth—that he could not die now, and should not!—until his -will became electrified with a new impulsion, and was roused to cope -with the fell demon that had thus, of his own invitation, possessed -him; and, illuminated with a sudden and rapid intellection, he -directed her how to baffle every paroxysm of cramp as it rose. - -It is sufficient, he was thus sustained by light applications of -cold-water, until the passing of the storm enabled her to summon to his -aid a physician, whose skilful application of the same powerful remedy, -even in the “blue-stage” of collapse into which Manton had now fallen, -sufficed to relieve him from the disease, with the vital principle yet -striving in his frame; though many days must elapse before those starry -eyes, that held sleepless watch above him, could impart to his dimmed -and incredulous consciousness sufficient strength to enable him to lift -his hand, in vague and mournful wonder that he still possessed a being. - -Ah, what an awakening was this! Deep, deep, beneath the realms -of shadow—dark and deep—he had lain in long and dumb oblivion of -consciousness. He knew not that he lived; it was a blank of rayless -rest—a peace without sunshine. How profound! how unutterably still! -What a contrast with the ceaseless, dreadful tension of the moiling -chaos of past years, during which the passions had never slept, but, -through his very dreams, had moaned in the weariness of strife. Alas! -the rebellious heart, which struggleth in unyielding pride with life, -refusing to concede to its conditions, how it must suffer? The world -know little of the life-long horrors of that fight—the unidealizing -world, the conservative, the compromising world. It little dreams what -this self-immolating madman must endure—to what nights of sleepless -thought, to what days of bleak and sullen isolation—walking apart from -sympathies that are distrusted and scorned, yet yearned for—hating -nothing, yet loving nothing which is warmed in the embrace of earth, -because that earth may be accursed in his sight: its barren bosom has -not yielded to his exacting soul the flowers and streams and echoing -groves of the Utopia it has framed within him. - -This is the unpardonable sin of pride! He dares to treat with contempt -a world that will not turn to his inspired voice, and live as he has -dreamed it might live. It is not to be wondered at, that the bolts fall -thick and fast about him; but when we see his pale brow scathed and -seamed with many a stunning stroke, while his hollow eyes yet glitter -with a deathless and defiant fire—when we think of the mortal tension -of his unsympathised life—oh, should we not remember, that this painful -warrior has been battling, not for base lucre, not for selfish ends, -but for the beautiful, as it has been revealed to him—the true, as -he has felt it—for the ideal in him; and that, though wretched and -suffering and wan, it is, after all, - - “Of such stuff as he, - The gods are made.” - -It is of his suffering that his prowess comes—of his experiences, his -themes—of his solitude, his reach and radiance of thought—of his strong -will, his conquering flight at last. Do not think to pity him; may-be -he is pitying you. Do not attempt to “save” him; it may be, it is you -who will be damned in the effort. Only let him alone—do not persecute -him. Let his pride pass—that is what sustains him; but for that, he -would be like you, a mere “compromise.” Give him the same chance that -you give to others around you, and, although you may not understand him -now, only give him time, he will make you understand him; it may be, in -wonder and in joy. - -But this waking—but this waking of the weary man! Was it a new birth—a -new resurrection—or, a mere waking from a light sleep, without a dream? -The world upon which his shrinking vision now opened was filled with -sunshine—he was blinded with the glory thereof. He closed his thin -eyelids, and the splendor came through them, all rosy-hued and dimmed, -that he could bear it; but there was a starlight for him too, and he -could bear its calm effulgence better. - -Yes, there were two stars, and they were tempered, that they might -neither freeze nor slay his feeble life. When they came over him, as -he lay in a half-trance of weakness, he could feel them through his -eyelids and upon his heart; and they were warm, and he felt his heart -warm, as buds to the unfolding spring. A dim-remembered music flowed -into his soul, faint and dim, but oh, sweetly mellowed, that he might -not die! - -There was a rustling, too,—it was as of a tempered wind,—and a soft -touch; it sent no thrill, but it was of healing—it sunk into his life -in strength. A strange, balsamic tenderness, like a new sense of peace -and joy, pervaded all his being—and a new growth set in apace, and a -dim remembrance of ancient strength flitted into his thought. - -Ah, ha! this wondrous presence, what was it? Moione, the ministering -Moione! It was she! Ever there, sleeping and awake, she leaned over -him. When he dreamed, he dreamed of a fair spirit, that hung upon the -air above him, on viewless wings, and ever, with still eyes looking -upon his, shedding their soft radiance deep into his soul. No wonder -that life, in swift, light waves, came flooding in again; no wonder -that the crushed and much-enduring man became as a child once more, -and laughed out in the sunshine with a simple joy. The Present was -sufficient unto him; he remembered not the Past now—the hideous, the -spectre-haunted Past. What was it to him, when serene hope thus smiled? -Ah, it was a happy time, that period of rapid convalescence. Yes, -rapid, for his heart beat freely again. The natural sun could reach -him; no lurid delusion, like miasmatic fog, hung over to intercept the -rays. - -They talked of the future, and peopled it with wild dreams, like -children, until it all became as real to them as their own being. - -There was a strange and mournful romance, connected with the origin -of Moione’s family, that pointed at possible realizations in another -country, through inheritance, that would be as gorgeous as the -creations of Aladdin’s lamp. They talked of these prospects as of facts -assumed, and of all the high-thoughted enterprises of the day which -promised to be of true benefit to mankind, as already achieved, through -their aid; and, with magnanimous simplicity, were already distributing -hoarded and rusting millions to bless the world withal. These were -gay day-dreams; but they were innocent, and, although they may never -be realized, they gave them joy—inspired the yet feeble Manton with a -future. - -There could be but one result to all this. His health was rapidly -restored; and when Manton married Moione, which he soon did, his soul -now first found rest. The last that was spoken between them concerning -Elna was in a conversation soon after, when she casually asked him— - -“Did Elna show you my drawings, when you came back from the North?” - -“Your drawings? your drawings? She showed me some, the delicacy and -calm precision of which, I remember, vainly intoxicated me with -delight. But why do you ask, dear?” - -“Why, she carried off from me, about that time, certain studies of -human anatomy, which I had elaborated much, and which I valued. As I -have never been able to recover them, after repeatedly requesting their -return, I thought, perhaps, she might have shown them to you, and then -thrown them aside, through forgetfulness.” - -“Ah! ha!” said Manton, “I remember now. They were assiduously paraded -before me by her as her own. In spite of my recognition of the fact, -that she did not possess originally, and must have very suddenly -acquired, the constitutional steadiness and delicacy of touch necessary -to accomplish drawings so fine and exquisitely accurate, I never -dreamed of imposition, of course; and thus, with fatal credulity, -set down to her credit, from what she had stolen of you, a new and -infinitely significant attribute, which I had heretofore, specially and -hopelessly, in spite of my passion, denied to her.” - -“Let us forget it now,” was the quiet response. “She is only harmful -to either of us, as you may remember morbidly the relations which have -existed between you; the delusion is over.” - -Such was the fact, indeed. Manton had at last found his artist-wife, -and a true and wondrous artist did she prove indeed, realising his -fond, high dream. Under this blessed and holy guardianship, he had -returned fully to the realities of a true existence. He now saw, felt, -and understood all that had occurred in that long shuddering dream; and -this reality he had attained seemed only the more unutterably precious. - -When the calm Moione revealed to him all the secret of the bleak and -poverty-stricken desolation, in which he found her living, he was -not at all astonished to find that her mother, who was a generous, -trusting, noble-hearted zealot of Water-cure, had been another of the -many victims of Boanerges Phospher, the “Spiritual Professor.” He -had not only stripped her widowed isolation of all the appliances of -household comfort, which years of devoted and self-sacrificing labor -had enabled her to collect and throw together, in respectable defence -between her helpless children and common want, but had absolutely -turned her out of doors, without even spoon, or knife, or fork left -her, of all this little property which she had thrown in rashly, -perhaps, but earnestly, and with a noble dedication of her widow’s -mite, towards furnishing a Water-cure establishment. - -The cause was one that she revered for the good that she knew, -practically, it might accomplish; and Boanerges, who was in this -case, as usual, profoundly ignorant of what he had undertaken to do, -had availed himself of her well-known experience and knowledge of -Water-cure, just so long as sufficed to collect around him again a -hirsute confederacy of faithful Amazons; the strength of which he -thought would be sufficient to over-ride all opposition, and sustain -him in the valorous assault upon helpless widowhood intended. He then -openly claimed her property as his own, and the proud, uncomplaining -mother of Moione was, of course, plundered of her all—victimised! - -The sainted Boanerges soon met with a just retribution. The partner, -to whom he had assigned, in trust, to stave off his creditors, all -his claims upon this illustrious institution, and who, from the late -chrysalis of a vulgar tailor, had suddenly been emancipated into an M. -D. of Water-cure, at once sprung upon him his legal rights, under the -transfer, and he was reduced again to beggary. - -Some method wrested from his puerile studies of Swedenborg, has no -doubt, by this time, and upon some other tack, suggested to the -“Spiritual Professor” just enough of wisdom to enable him to persevere -in “saving” the elderly New-Lights of the land. - -We wish Boanerges happiness in his new enterprises; for, certainly, his -versatility at least commands respect. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - - THE “SECRET CONCLAVE.” - - -The Editor finds that here the connected narrative of Etherial Softdown -breaks off. Though there are many fragmentary notes, which he found -in Yieger’s Cabinet, which bear a clear, yet somewhat disconnected -relation, to the past and future of the scenes and actors already -described; these he has thought proper to collate, and throw together -into something as nearly approaching order as their desultory character -will permit. - -This man Yieger seems to have been an enthusiast of a very unusual -stamp. He has, however, left so little concerning himself, that we can -only say, he appears to have made it his business to follow up, in a -quiet and unsuspected way, a certain series of investigations, the -purport and tendency of which was to unveil a class of crimes, which, -from being secret, were enabled to work and worm their way nearest to -the core of the social state. - -Thus, in addition to the monstrous and unimagined vices described by -him in the preceding chapters, he seems to have discovered secret -combinations, the possibilities of which have probably never entered -before into human brains, but the results of which were as prodigious -as the causes were unsuspected. These were composed of no mystic -demagogues of humanitarianism, who sheltered mere partisan and personal -designs, under the broad curtain of secret rituals symbolising -philanthropic aims; no bald enthusiasts, who softly sunk their -individualities in an Order, and sold their god-like birthrights of -universal benevolence, of world-wide charity, for the golden shackles -of a pretentious benevolence, the selfish code of which was, mutual -protection first, and—nobody else afterwards! - -These were wise, bold, hardened men—hardened in the rough contests -by the highways of life—who had seen all, felt all, and known all, -that life could give or take. They were prepared for any of its -extremes, but had outlived its sympathies. They were incarnations -of pure intellection; the accomplishment of the object was their -conscience—they despised allegories, and they trampled upon symbols. -Nothing was mysterious to them, but an undigested purpose. For them -there was no law but that might be eluded—no sanctities, but as -they might be used—no religion but necessity, which was, to them, -achievement! - -When such men organised, they merely came together,—ten or a dozen of -them,—they required no oaths, no pledges—they knew each other! “We -hold such and such opinions upon one point only; and that one point -is, mutual interest, and under that, 1st, that we can govern this -nation; 2d, that to govern it, we must subvert its institutions; and, -3d, subvert them we will! It is our interest; this is our only bond. -Capital must have expansion. This hybrid republicanism saps the power -of our great agent by its obstinate competition. We must demoralise -the republic. We must make public virtue a by-word and a mockery, and -private infamy to be honor. Beginning with the people, through our -agents, we shall corrupt the State. - -“We must pamper superstition, and pension energetic fanaticism—as on -‘Change we degrade commercial honor, and make ‘success’ the idol. -We may fairly and reasonably calculate, that within a succeeding -generation, even our theoretical schemes of republican subversion may -be accomplished, and upon its ruins be erected that noble Oligarchy of -caste and wealth for which we all conspire, as affording the only true -protection to capital. - -“Beside these general views, we may in a thousand other ways apply -our combined capital to immediate advantage. We may buy up, through -our agents, claims upon litigated estates, upon confiscated bonds, -mortgages upon embarrassed property, land-claims, Government contracts, -that have fallen into weak hands, and all those floating operations, -constantly within hail, in which ready-money is eagerly grasped as the -equivalent for enormous prospective gains. - -“In addition, through our monopoly of the manufacturing interest, -by a rigorous and impartial system of discipline, we shall soon be -able to fill the masses of operators and producers with such distrust -of each other, and fear of us, as to disintegrate their radical -combinations, and bring them to our feet. Governing on ‘Change, we -rule in politics; governing in politics, we are the despots in trade; -ruling in trade, we subjugate production; production conquered, we -domineer over labor. This is the common-sense view of our interests—of -the interests of capital, which we represent. In the promotion of this -object, we appoint and pension our secret agents, who are everywhere -on the lookout for our interests. We arrange correspondence, in -cipher, throughout the civilized world; we pension our editors and our -reporters; we bribe our legislators, and, last of all, we establish and -pay our secret police, local, and travelling, whose business it is, not -alone to report to us the conduct of agents already employed, but to -find and report to us others, who may be useful in such capacity. - -“We punish treachery by death!” - -Such is a partial schedule of the terms of one of these terrible -confederacies, as furnished in a detached note by Yieger, which held -its secret sessions in New York city. He seems to have obtained a -sight of some of their records, but by what means, the most daring -could only conjecture. He appears to have regarded this particular -organisation as the most formidable of all, and to have traced many of -its ramifications, in their covert results, with a singularly dogged -tenacity. - -Among the extraordinary papers contained in the Cabinet he has left, -are to be found short notes, containing what are clearly reports and -proceedings of this formidable conclave. Its mysterious signature, -Regulus, seems to have been known throughout the world; and even he, -though clearly a fierce and relentless foe, never writes it, but with -the involuntary concession of respect, which large, clear letters, -underscored, would seem to convey. - -Having now presented such an outline of the character and designs of -this secret conclave, as the means of information furnished him have -enabled him to do, the Editor will proceed with the promised extracts -from its proceedings, such as relate to those in regard to whom the -reader may be supposed to have some curiosity. - -First, we have here - - - “A NOTE CONCERNING ETHERIAL SOFTDOWN. - - “This woman, whose patronymic was Softdown, first married a Quaker, - named Orne; which name, after her separation, and until after her - divorce, she continued to bear, with the _alias_ of Marie. She - began her public career, soon after her marriage, as a Quaker - preacher; but the straitness of this sect not conforming at all to - her latitudinarian principles, she recanted in disgust, and left - the society. She now plunged at once into Physiology, and, after a - miraculously short gestation, produced a few lectures, with which she - went the rounds of two or three New England States, accompanied by her - husband, whom she, _sans ceremonie_, dubbed M. D., without putting him - to the trouble of reading, or ever having read, a book on any subject. - He officiated as her doorkeeper, and received the ‘shillings;’ but, - refusing to render any account of the proceeds, a furious feud grew up - between them, and soon the war waxed hot and fierce. - - “Finding this to be poor business on the whole, she deserted him, - taking her child with her. The next occupation in which we find her - versatile genius engaged, was that of teaching French; a more humble - employment, surely, but one for which she was equally well fitted. - This, however, soon disgusted her, as her unreasonable patrons would - insist upon the vulgar necessity of her being able to speak French, - as well as teach it. It was at best but a tame avocation, and one - entirely unsuited to her ambitious temper. - - “Having now fairly assayed her wings for flight, she soared aloft at - once, in full career, through mid-air. She became first a preacher - of Universalism; but meeting, about this time, with the celebrated - Boanerges Phospher, she, in a few weeks, turned out full-plumed, - as a lecturer on Elocution. To this she soon added a knowledge of - Phrenology, which, in her active zeal, she took care to impart to the - world, as fast as acquired, and in the same public manner. - - “Then, as a natural consequence, came Mesmerism; then Neurology. Of - all these sciences she became the prompt expounder, after a few days’ - investigation. - - “From this point she immediately ascended a step higher, and announced - herself as a revelator in Clairvoyance; and, by an inevitable - progression, she at once found admission, along with Andrew Jackson - Davis and a host of other seers, into the Swedenborgian Arcana, and - held herself on terms of frequent intercourse and positive intimacy - with the angel Gabriel, and, indeed, the whole heavenly host. - - “They revealed to her that the great and unpardonable sins of humanity - were, first, eating pork; second, using tobacco, whether snuffing, - smoking, or chewing; and, third, wine-drinking in all its forms. They - accordingly commissioned her, formally, to go forth into the world - as a missionary, to warn mankind against the fearful consequences of - these vices, and to ‘save’ them therefrom. - - “The exposition of Grahamism and Bran-bread was now added to the - enlarged circle of her enlightened Professorships; and, by this - aid, and that of her spiritual commission, she wrought wonders, in - assailing the camps of the great foes of humanity—Pork, Tobacco, and - Wine! - - “Many were the brands plucked by her from the burning, or rather - ‘saved’—preachers, lawyers, editors, artists, and watery-eyed young - gentlemen, in particular. It was on this grand tour that she - first assumed her most distinguished attribute, the Patroness of - Art—particularly of the Artists. - - “Returning to civilization once more, she again assumed her cast-off - Professorship of Physiology, and began lecturing to classes of - her own sex. Now, with the first gleam of light from Græfenberg, - she pronounced herself as having been, for many years before, - a practitioner of the system; and at once proceeded to combine - Grahamism, Mesmerism, Water-cure, and Physiology. - - “While in the vein of Physiology, she also lectured on the benefits - of Amalgamation, Abolitionism, and Non-resistance. About this - time, having met with one of the chief expounders of Fourierism, - whom she also undertook to ‘save,’ she turned out in a few weeks a - Phalanxsterian lecturer. That bubble had barely exploded, when she - came forth a Communist. Shortly afterwards, having one or two editors - separately undergoing the process of being ‘saved,’ she became - authoress! She produced several physiological novels, a number of - essays, poems, volumes of lectures, &c., &c. - - “The police which obey the mandates of the formidable Regulus, have - kept the changes of this feminine Proteus for now upward of forty - years, steadily in view; and the Council of Disorganisation report, - through their committee, that they have ample reason to be pleased - with this Etherial Softdown, as the most indefatigable, active, - unscrupulous, and energetic of the agents of Demoralisation in the - employment of the Secret Conclave. - - “They congratulate themselves in the belief that, with an hundred - such employées devoted to their service, they could corrupt the - private faith and public virtue of the whole Union so effectually, in - a single generation, as to enable them to utterly destroy its social - organisation and subvert its Constitution. - - “This would, of course, secure the desired Oligarchy of caste and - wealth, and reduce the nation to serfdom. - - “She is to be encouraged, and placed upon the pension-list of the - ‘Secret Conclave.’ - - “Since this report, the latest transformations of Etherial Softdown - have been, first, into rabid Bloomerism; in the height of which - madness, she possessed a sufficiency of the martyr-spirit to parade - herself, on all public occasions, though nearly fifty years of age, in - full costume. - - “By a necessary transition, the next step was into an apostleship of - the new school of ‘Woman’s Rights’ and Abolitionism; which openly - rejoices in the repudiation of the Bible from among the sacred books - of the world—accepting it merely as the text-book of popular cant, to - be used in working upon the passions and superstitions of the mob. - - “This last metamorphosis of Etherial Softdown seems to be the most - promising of all those through which the police of the ‘Conclave’ - have, thus far, been able to trace her.”[4] - - [4] The following note was received, in answer to one addressed to a - distinguished surgeon of Philadelphia, in relation to the phenomenon - of voluntary bleeding, so frequently illustrated in the History of - Etherial Softdown.—EDITOR. - - “DEAR SIR: - - “The case which you presented to me, for an explanation of the - causes which may have produced voluntary discharges of blood from - the mouth, is certainly a very remarkable one, though by no means - without parallel in the records of _feigned diseases_. The power of - the will, in persons of peculiar formation or constitution, is seen, - occasionally, to be extended to various organs designed by nature to - act without awakening consciousness and in a manner altogether beyond - the control of the individual. To say nothing of many muscles of the - scalp, the ears, the skin of the neck, &c., which are used to great - purpose by the inferior animals, but are totally inactive in man, - except in a few rare instances, it is well known that many persons - possess the power of voluntary vomiting. About forty years ago, a man - presented himself before a celebrated surgeon of London, and proved - that he possessed the ability to check completely the flow of blood - through the artery at the wrist, by violently contracting a muscle - of the arm above the elbow, which, in his case, happened to overlap - and press upon the main trunk of the vessel. I am acquainted with a - gentleman in this country, who can perform the same feat. There is - on record a well-authenticated history of a man who could completely - control, by will, the motions of his heart; and who, eventually, - committed accidental suicide, by arresting the circulation so long - that the heart never reacted. I am acquainted with a gentleman who - can voluntarily contract and dilate the pupil of the eye to a certain - extent; and have seen the same effect repeatedly, and in a far greater - degree, among the Hindoo jugglers. This action is natural in the - owl, but probably requires a peculiar nervous structure in man. Some - persons have a power of so completely simulating death, that neither - by respiration, the motion of the eye under light, nor the pulse, - could any unprofessional observer, or even an experienced physician, - detect the counterfeit. One of my servants in India, struck another - Hindoo with his open hand, for some impertinence. The man instantly - fell, apparently dead; and I happened to arrive just as the friends - were about to remove the body, no doubt for the purpose of extorting - money by concealment and false pretences. I could perceive no - respiration (the glass-test was not applied), no pulse at the wrist; - the pupil of the eye was fixed in all lights. There was, however, a - slight thrilling in the carotid artery, and I judged the case to be - one of admirable feigning. Severe pinching was borne without change - of expression, as was also the deep prick of a pin. For amusement, I - pronounced him dead, but assured the ignorant natives that I would - bring him to life. On my calling for a little pan of coals,—always - ready in a bachelor drawing-room in the East, for lighting - cigars,—there came over the countenance the slightest possible shade - of anxiety. I ordered the patient’s abdomen laid bare, and gently - toppled a bright coal from the pan upon it. The effect was magical. - Instantly, the fellow gave the most lively evidences of vitality; - and, as he crossed the _Compound_ and darted through the gateway, he - seemed solely bent upon rivalling the mysterious industry of the ‘man - with the cork-leg.’ “By strong contraction of all the muscles of the - chest, while those of the neck are rigid and the lungs fully inflated, - the vessels of the head and neck can be distended almost to bursting. - Actors sometimes use this power to produce voluntary blushing, or the - suffusion of anger, though the practice endangers apoplexy. I take - this to be the secret of the voluntary bleeding, in the case described - by you. - - “The tonsils, and the membrane of the throat behind the nose and - mouth, are full of innumerable blood-vessels, forming a net-work; and - very slight causes often produce great enlargement of these vessels. - By frequent temporary distension, they are not only permanently - enlarged, but made more susceptible of additional expansion from - trivial accidents. In this condition, they may be brought to resemble, - in some degree, what is termed, by anatomists, _the erectile tissue_, - which structure has sufficient contractility to prevent the admission - of more than an ordinary amount of blood on common occasions, but when - excited in any way, it yields with great ease, and admits of enormous - dilatation. Erectile tumors are dangerous, from their tendency, - ultimately, to bleed spontaneously. They are sometimes formed in the - throat. The party referred to may have one, or she may have simply - enlarged the vessels by habitual mechanical distension, by compressing - the chest in the manner just described. There is such a natural - tendency, in all parts about the throat and nose, to bleed from slight - causes, particularly after repeated inflammation, that it strikes - me as by no means wonderful, that a designing person should, by - long-practised mechanical efforts, aided, perhaps, by the consequences - of former colds, reduce these parts to a condition such that they - would bleed from voluntary distension. The only wonder in the case - is the _quantity_ discharged, while this person does not appear to - be subject to involuntary hemorrhage also. This result will probably - occur hereafter, and the impostor may share the fate of the man who - arrested the motion of his heart. - - “These cases of feigned diseases give great vexation to army surgeons - and almshouse physicians; and, in private life, are often resorted - to by the cunning and unprincipled, for the purpose of harrowing the - feelings of relatives, from some sinister intention. It might well be - wished, that the case you describe were one of the most difficult of - detection, but it is far from being so. - - “Believe me, my dear sir, - - “Very truly, yours,” &c. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - - REPORTS OF THE “SECRET CONCLAVE.” - - -We continue our reports of the police of the “Conclave,” so far as we -find them relating to Etherial Softdown and her friends. - -This report says of Eusedora Polypheme:—“This woman is between thirty -and thirty-five years of age. She is of New England birth, and -commenced her education at what we consider the female high-schools of -demoralisation on the Continent—’the factories.’ - -“These establishments are especially patronised by the ‘Council of -Disorganisation,’ who consider them of vast efficiency, on account of -the well-understood certainty with which the results we aim at are -achieved, under this system. So great is this certainty, indeed, that -we may always safely calculate that eight-tenths of the females who -seek employment in them come forth, if they ever do alive, inoculated -with just such principles and habits as we desire to have spread among -the rural population to which the majority of them return. Corrupted -themselves, they act as admirable mediums and conductors of corruption -to the class from whom they went forth innocent, and which receives -them again without suspicion. - -“Besides the spinal diseases, affections of the lungs, twisted bodies, -and deformed limbs, which the greater number of these girls take home -with them, all the foolish romanticism of girlhood has been thoroughly -crushed out of them, by the _morale_ which we have promoted in these -institutions, and their minds and tastes have become even more vitiated -than their bodies. - -“It will thus be seen that this factory system is our _chef-d’œuvre_ of -demoralisation of the simple agricultural classes. - -“But in yet another aspect the results, it will be perceived, are -still more brilliant. We soon found the necessity of creating a -public sentiment in favor of our system, which would put a stop to -officious investigation and interference with our plans. We accordingly -established a defensive literature, in the shape of dainty serials, -announced as being edited by the factory-girls themselves. These were -filled with sentimental effusions, written principally to order, -outside the factories, the general burden of which consisted in -poetico-rural pictures of the joys brought home by the patient and -industrious factory-girl, to some hipshotten father or bedridden -grand-papa. These little incidents were studiously invested with -all that charming unexpectedness and die-away bathos, which is so -attractive to girlish imaginations, and so satisfactory to elder -philanthropists. Then there was still another class of romances, -cultivated with yet more fervid unction. These consisted in stories of -a lovely young girl, who, all for ‘love of independence,’ gave up a -home of luxury, to come to the factories and make a living for herself, -independent of her natural guardians. How this stout-hearted young -lady one day attracted, by her beauty, the attention of a handsome -young gentleman of romantic appearance, who visited the mills along -with a party of other strangers. How the romantic young gentleman -was very much struck, while the strong-minded Angelina was rendered -nervous; how the heart-stricken, after many trials, succeeded in -moving upon the heart of the ‘sleepless gryphon’ of morality with whom -Angelina boarded, to permit him to have an interview—at least in said -gryphon’s presence; how that then and there the young gentleman, in the -most ‘proper’ way declared himself, sought Angelina’s hand, and was -accepted; and how he turned out to be the son of a Southern nabob, and -Angelina, from a poor factory-girl, became one of the foremost ladies -of the land; and how, though, she never forgot her dear and happy -companions of the factory. This same susceptible young Southerner is -the standing hero of four-fifths of these girls, and, as he does not -come every year to make them all rich, we may congratulate ourselves -upon the general morals consequent upon such reasonable expectations. - -“Out of one or two thousand girls, there are usually a few who exhibit -some sprightliness. In the ratio of the ductility of their characters, -are they sure to be selected, and brought forward by our managers; and -in proportion as they exhibit their availability, are they readily -promoted to editorships. They receive private salaries, and are -released from any other than nominal participation in the routine of -factory labor. From this distinguished caste of young ladies of the -factory, Eusedora Polypheme originated. - -“We expect gratitude from all such favored parties; and Eusedora proved -the most grateful of the grateful. She as readily took to the shallow -limpidity of Mr. Little, _alias_ Tommy Moore, as ever did callow cygnet -to the drains of a Holland flat. - -“She possessed, indeed, a marvellous gift of sentiment—a sacchariferous -faculty, that would have caused Cerberus himself to have licked his -jagged lips. She was accordingly encouraged to cultivate transcendental -tendencies, exchanged with the Dial, and, after a few months’ exercise, -she spoke like a veritable Pythoness. - -“Considering that she had now made herself sufficiently familiar with - - ‘The celestial syren’s harmony,’ - -to make her of value to us abroad, we placed her on our pension-list, -and turned her loose upon society. - -“This step the Committee have never had cause to regret. She leaped -upon the social stage, a specimen of what the factory system could -produce—achieved the lioness at once, and had the honour of being -hailed in all circles, a phenomenon, a _lusus naturæ_—the world was -undecided which, considering she was nothing but a factory-girl. They -must be eminent institutions surely, since they could turn out young -ladies who talked so ‘divinely,’ possessed ‘such’ command of language, -and were such favorites with the gentlemen! - -“There was a society, too, not very far off from this, into which she -had forced her way, and which haughtily called itself ‘the best,’ -that held its court in houses with dingy outsides, that lined the -back-alleys; but, amidst garish and sickening splendors within, the -‘highly intellectual’ character of the hollow-eyed and painted queens -who presided there, was equally owing to the educations they had -received at the same ‘eminent’ institutions—only they had had more soul -and less cunning than Eusedora Polypheme, and would not, therefore, -have been so available to the Committee. - -“When a class is already sunk as low as it can sink, it is not our -policy to go aside to interfere with them, for they are sure to -fecundate in degradation fast enough; our sole aim is to drag the -grades above down to their level, which we consider a safe one. - -“There is nothing so dangerous to the designs of the Committee of -Disorganisation, as soul—what the world calls heart. To an executive -power, these are always considered intrusive and distasteful -superfluities; and it was because Eusedora has managed, by some -surprisingly efficient process, to rid herself of both, that she is to -be so trusted. - -“Besides parading her accomplishments everywhere, as merely a fair -average of the education of a factory-girl, she very soon mapped out -for herself a very peculiar field for operations. She became the leader -of a new school of Platonic Sentimentalism, in New England. This was -an achievement—a decided triumph. She soon gathered around her a host -of feminine disciples—principally young and unmarried, with premature -wrinkles on their brows. - -“After years of close observation of the operations of this sect, -its police would beg to express to the Committee their unqualified -admiration of the results obtained. The increase of the number of -suicides has been gratifying. The number of young men and girls -rendered worthless for life; the number of elderly men plundered and -cajoled out of their means and driven into dotage, is only equalled by -the surprising rapidity with which the fanaticism has spread; indeed, -it would seem as if the first step towards all the popular forms of -fanaticism, is through Platonic Sentimentalism. - -“It seems, that it is through the teachings of this school, of which -Eusedora Polypheme is now the acknowledged priestess, that the -hollowness and unsatisfactory character of all our natural sentiments -and passions is first perceived. This illumination achieved, it -becomes necessary that their place be supplied by what the world -would call morbid sentimentality and unnatural passions, but which -Eusedora Polypheme aptly terms, ‘spherical illuminations’ and ‘divine -ecstacies.’ But since we know, as well as Eusedora, that flesh is -flesh, and blood is blood, we can therefore calculate, with great -precision, whither such mystifications must lead. - -“Hardened and sharpened in mind and temper, by a graduation in this -school, its disciples pass, not from it, but through it, into other, -and, to us, not less important fields of activity. Hence come the -fiercest and most unscrupulous partisans of Infidelity, Abolitionism, -and Woman’s Rights. Having learned both theoretically and practically -to disbelieve in themselves, by the most natural transition in the -world, they become infidel of all other truths, and scorn all other -sacrednesses alike. They are then prepared to be of use to us in -a variety of ways. The spirit of antagonism, the love of strife -and notoriety, have assumed in them the sense of duty, justice, -and modesty; a spiritual _diablerie_ has possessed itself of the -emasculated remains of womanhood left in them. Only give them a chance -for martyrdom—only give them an excuse for the cry of persecution, and -upon whatever theme or theory, ology or ism, that may promise to afford -them such healthful and natural excitements, they will at once seize, -and, hugging the dear abstraction to their bosoms, do battle for the -same, with a cunning and unscrupulous ferocity that has no parallel. - -“But for their thorough training under the teaching of Eusedora -Polypheme, they might, perhaps, be sometimes disposed to pause, and -inquire if there might not be two sides to every question; whether they -might not have made some slight mistake in crying out ‘Eureka’ so soon. -But, fortunately, they are never troubled with this weakness; and, as -their capacity for mischief is not, therefore, liable to be impaired -by any maudlin conscientiousness, or feeble questioning of their own -infallibility, or that of their teachers, they are from the beginning -as valuable as trained veterans. - -“The jargon of the sect, which they acquire with wonderful facility, -constitutes their logic; and their efficiency in the use of this -weapon, consists in the savage, waspish, and persevering iteration of -its phrases, at all times and on all occasions. - -“It is astonishing, the ease with which the majority of mankind can be -bullied, especially from within the bulwark of petticoats. But when -at once the terrible aspect is hid behind the mask of Circe, as the -followers of Polypheme know so well to accomplish, the power becomes -resistless indeed. - -“The principal weapons of offence used by the followers of Polypheme, -in all their subsequent metamorphoses, are, first and foremost, what is -technically termed the ‘electrical eye.’ This is the most brilliant and -effective of their weapons. It is not by any means necessary that the -spiritual Amazon should have been gifted by Nature, in this respect; -for the arts of Polypheme were clearly inspired from - - ‘Some other deity than Nature, - That shapes man better.’ - -“After long practice, the power is acquired of dilating or straining -the eyes wide open, and suffusing them at the same time. The moisture -gives them a marvellous effect of electrical splendor. As this habitual -tension can only be sustained for a few seconds at a time, Polypheme -happily offsets it by the modest habit of dropping her eyes towards the -floor, or a flower or book in her hand; then up go the - - ‘Downy windows close,’ - -and out leaps another humid flash, to electrify her audience. - -“Great energy and activity of gesticulation is recommended, in order -to distract attention, as much as possible, from the fact, that these -cruelly-worked eyes sometimes run over with the ‘salt-rheum’—of any -thing but ‘grief.’ A loud voice, too, is especially recommended—as, -without it, somebody else might be heard in the room. - -“Secondly, a thorough knowledge of the minor dramatics of emphasis -is also suggested. Sneers should be thoroughly practised before the -glass, as well as interjections, exclamations, shrieks of wonder and -surprise. The grimaces of rage, worked up with great ferocity, without -the slightest regard to the poor victim. Scorn should be lofty and -incredibly superb; archness, irresistible, taking care not to pucker -the wrinkles in the brow too much; sentiment, nothing short of the -white rolling-up of two huge spheres in spasm. Childlike simplicity -requires great practice in the dancing-room; it is very effective, when -artistically done. Favorite poets—Petrarch, Shelley, Mrs. Elizabeth -Brownson, and her husband, ‘poor Keats.’ Gods—Tom Moore, Byron, and -Author of Festus. High-priest of the Arcana—Emerson. Priestess—Margaret -Fuller Ossoli. Apocalypse—The Dial, &c., &c. - -“Travelling should be studied as an art. The many correspondences -held in different portions of the country should be made the dutiful -occasion of sentimental visits, which, as they may be protracted for a -month or two, will, no doubt, result in the effectual ‘saving’ of some -half-dozen, at the very least, of both sexes. Neither scrip nor money -need be provided for the journey; for is not the laborer worthy of his -hire? Besides, who ever heard of a lioness carrying a purse? The world -owes all its benefactors a living. - -“It is necessary to be an authoress—abundantly prolific and intensely -literary: to write dashing, slashing, graceful letters, in which your -own superb horsewomanship shall always figure most prominently; next, -your own disinterestedness; next, your own amiability, and dangerous -powers of attraction; and, last, the dashing, slashing, graceful -character of your own wit; your romantic love-affairs, by brook and -meadow, on highway and in byway, by ocean-side or in greenwood. - -“These, with a lofty scorn of the commonplace, a darling love of the -arts—that is, you must know the names of the pictures, and what they -are all about, but most particularly the names of the painters. And -if somebody says the picture is a good one, be on terms of intimacy -with the painter, or at least in close correspondence with him; and be -sure he is a ‘noble spirit,’ a ‘divine creature,’ one of the ‘elect of -genius,’ whose ‘eyes have been unsealed to the touch of the Promethean -fire.’ - -“Must know French, Italian, German, and Spanish phrases, out of the -Pronouncing Dictionary. Quote these occasionally, but very guardedly, -when you are certain there are no apeish foreigners or troublesome old -fogy scholars present. - -“Thus panoplied, the novitiate will be, in every sense, the equal of -Eusedora Polypheme herself, and entitled to go upon the pension-list -of the Committee. Indeed, we are booking them rapidly, and sending out -missionaries in every direction. - -“The disciples of this school are among the chief favorites of the -‘Committee of Disorganisation.’” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -REPORTS CONTINUED—REGINA STRAIGHTBACK - - -We have already obtained a glimpse of Regina Straightback, in -character. Her tall Indian-like figure, with her picturesque and -semi-manly costume, will not be readily forgotten. - -The faithful police of the ‘Committee of Disorganisation,’ in course of -a detailed report concerning this woman, says: - -“Regina Straightback is nearly as unbending in temper as in figure, -which peculiarity renders her of somewhat less avail to us than such -more ductile natures as her fast friend, Etherial Softdown, and her -soul’s sister, Eusedora Polypheme. - -“However, she possesses an availability of her own, which is invaluable -in its way. She is incontrovertibly the Amazonian queen of the -‘New-Lights.’ Her commanding figure and her dramatic carriage, together -with her unanswerably positive and imperious manner, have, as implying -a natural gift of command, won for her the universal suffrage of her -sisters militant. So it never fails that, by a species of spontaneous -acclaim, she is selected to preside over all convocations of the -‘faithful,’ whether held in public or in private. - -“By tacit consent, she has, therefore, come to be regarded as the -actual figure-head of the bark of Progress; and, hence, there is no -movement, on the part of feminine schismatics, worthy of attention, to -which she has chosen to deny her presiding countenance. - -“This renders her, of course, a very formidable and important person, -in all the ‘New-Light’ agitations of the day. Conscious of supremacy, -she exercises it without hesitation; and, with a boldness that is -startling to all parties, dares to assert outright those opinions -which, in reality, lie at the bottom of the whole agitation in which -they are engaged. - -“Indeed, not only does she defiantly assert them openly on all -occasions, but openly lives up to them in the face of society. While -her followers modestly say, they want woman’s civil rights in marriage, -she courageously asserts, that there is no marriage except in love, -and that the civil contract is like any other partnership in which -equivalents are exchanged; and, by way of proof of her sincerity, she -boasts, publicly and privately, of the terms on which she married her -present husband; who, by the way, possessed considerable property. ‘I -do not love you, sir,’ said she; ‘I love another man, whom you know. If -you choose to take me on these conditions, I am ready to marry you.’ - -“The charming candor of this proposal won the day; and the -superannuated ‘New-Light’ was fain content to exchange his hand and -fortune for her _hand_, and to leave her heart to settle its affairs in -some other direction. - -“This is the sort of frankness in which the ‘Committee of -Disorganisation’ do most rejoice. They regard it as a highly -favourable omen, when a ‘distinguished female’ can take such grounds -as this, and be publicly sustained by thousands of her sex; for with -whatever gravity they may pretend to repudiate the doings of Regina -Straightback, in this one particular, it is very certain, that they -must regard it with secret favor, and that this is the principal cause -of her universal and overwhelming popularity. - -“They regard her with a species of covert adoration—as a heroine, who -has first, since Fanny Wright, dared, in living up to principle, to -do that which they are all, in reality, yearning for courage to do -themselves. - -“The chaos of social licentiousness, to which the general acceptation -of such doctrine as this must lead, may be regarded, to say the least -of it, as pleasantly melodramatic. When one woman may go to the house -of another, and say, ‘Though thou hast been bound to this man, in the -holy bonds of matrimony, yet these bonds are of no moral force; though -thou hast borne to this man children from his loins, yet the fact that -thou hast suffered gives thee no claim upon him, for it is the penalty -of thy sex; and that they are bone of thy bone, and flesh of his flesh, -gives thee no just hold upon him, but rather upon the State. And if -thou hast nursed him in sickness, he has fed thee and clothed thee, in -ample equivalent; if thou hast loved him, he has loved thee; if thou -lovest him still, it is thy weakness. Get thee gone! This man no longer -loveth thee; he is mine. Thou shalt surrender to me thy nuptial couch; -there is no true marriage but in love!’ - -“Nor does the candor of Regina Straightback rest with practical -declarations such as these; she goes quite as far in other directions. -She does not hesitate to denounce the Bible, as sanctioning all -the oppressions of woman—as the mere tool of the priesthood, the -orthodox of whom are banded, to a man, in mortal opposition to their -rights. She recommends the use of it, as a means—to those who are -more disposed than she is to Jesuitism—of conquering by indirections. -They may influence and control the masses, by invoking its sanction, -to be sure; but she, for her own part, will have nothing to do with -subterfuges; she rejects the Bible system in toto, as false—false in -fact and tendency. God has made woman sufficient unto herself in the -universe. She can and ought to protect herself; and if she does not, -it’s her own fault. - -“The Bible might do for men; but women possess a higher spirituality, -and stronger intuitions; they do not need it. Man, with his heavy -logic, never gets beyond a truism or a self-evident fact, of the mere -physical world; while woman, with her electrical inspiration, leaps -the ‘large lengths’ of universal law, and, like a conquering presence, -glides within the spiritual, supreme. It is thus that, scorning all -bonds of sense, she knoweth that she doth know! - -“The announcement of these tremendous propositions would, of course, be -calculated to have an overwhelming effect upon the tender adolescence -of thousands of bright spirits—to electrify their hearts and souls with -the novel consciousness of claims and attributes, of which they had -never dreamed themselves or their sex to be possessors. - -“The result has been, of necessity, the institution of a feminine order -of ‘knight-errantry,’ of which the Quixote has yet to be sung. - -“The Committee do not generally employ such agents as Regina -Straightback; but as the time seems to have practically arrived, owing -to the preparatory labors of Etherial Softdown and Eusedora Polypheme, -they seem to have conceded that such pretensions may be safely risked, -though, it is well known, they usually do far more harm than good to -any cause. - -“The fact that such a step may be safely ventured upon, seems to be the -most encouraging token of the progress already achieved, and of the -ultimate and triumphant success of the exertions of the ‘Committee of -Disorganisation.’” - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - - HUMILITY BAREBONES STOUT. - - -The report goes on to say— - -“But what the circumscribed wits of Etherial Softdown, the divine -languishments of Eusedora Polypheme, the defiant unscrupulousness of -Regina Straightback, failed to accomplish, namely, the convulsing of -all Christendom, by one dexterous jugglery of cant, was left to be -achieved by our at present most honored agent, Humility Barebones Stout. - -“It will be seen, by her genealogical tree, as indicated in her middle -name, that she came, as it were, prepared, through a long table -of evangelical descent, for the work before her. Nothing could be -conceived more apropos: the blood of the Covenanters in the veins of -the modern ‘New-Light.’ Sharpened in its passage through New England -Puritanism, it has now become as professionally capable of splitting -hairs, as it formerly was of splitting heads. And then there was a -time-honored nasal, in which it - - ‘Poured its dolors forth;’ - -the preservation of the exact intonations of which does marvellous -credit to the antiquarian proclivities of this distinguished line. Then -there is a characteristic command of doggerel snatches, confessedly -without rhythm, because they were inspired,—for which the Fathers -Barebones and Poundtext were peculiarly noted in their day,—which seems -to have been transmitted, without the slightest deterioration of manner -or emphasis. And, in addition, there was an ecstaticism of textology, -to which these revered fathers uniformly resigned themselves, about -the time they had reached their ‘sixteenthlies,’ the facilities -of which seem to have been more than improved upon by their modern -representative. In a word, no reach of nasal effect, - - ‘From coughing trombone down to hoarsened pipe’— - -no fecundant sprightliness of doggerel—no illuminated aptitude of -text, betwixt Daniel in the lion’s den, and Death on the pale horse—no -syllogistic or aphoristic touch of bedridden theology that has been -in vogue since the time of Luther, but is at the tongue’s end of this -Cyclopean daughter of the ‘Fathers of the Covenant.’ - -“Admirable! admirable! What was to prevent Humility Barebones -Stout from using these rightfully-derived and extraordinary gifts -for the good of humanity? Not that she had thought anything more -philosophically about it, than that the good of humanity ought to -consist with the claims of her inherited renown, her caste, and her -prescriptive rights. Not that she cared particularly who suffered; but -being of a hysterical and exacting temperament, she had come to the -conclusion that her own, the white race, had conspired against her—that -they were jealous of her—would never yield to her ancestral claims a -fair precedence. - -“Her pride would not permit her to cry persecution for herself and -in her own name; for she had been, lo! these many days! a tireless -scribbler and notoriety-seeker, in appeals to her own race, through the -legitimate channels of current literature, on the simple basis of her -own individual experiences and the inspirations proper to her sex and -grade. These having failed to attract any attention beyond the day’s -notoriety, and from the additional fact of the most labored of them -having been consigned to oblivion through the pages of silly annuals, -she turned herself about in wrath, to avenge her wrongs. Her heart was -filled with bitterness. - -“She had known Etherial Softdown, with jealous unction; she had -communed with Eusedora Polypheme, in hopeless emulation of spirit; -she had shrunk before the lioness moods of the triumphing Regina -Straightback. She felt that she was displaced—that she had been left -behind. She saw that they were all too proud, or too far advanced, -to condescend to use the rusty weapons which had fallen to her by -inheritance; that they had set their feet above her, on the platform -of progress; that they at least called the semblances of science and -philosophy, through their terminalogies, to aid them, while they left -cant to their menials. - -“She felt that she was as bold as they. In what, then, consisted her -weakness? Could the fault be in her ‘stars,’ that she was still an -‘underling’? ‘Ha! ha! ha! Cant! cant! cant!’ and she laughed out, with -the exultation of Softdown’s first ‘Eureka!’ ’Cant! cant! I have it! -It descended to me from Barebones, my illustrious ancestor. Insolent -beldames! I will show them! They affect to quote the pure strains of -philosophy— - - “To imitate the graces of the gods.” - -We shall see! we shall see! I hate my own race; it has not appreciated -me. What care I for white-slavery and its abuses—for fairness, for -truth? Cant! cant! By its magic, I shall - - “Show as a snowy dove trooping with crows.” - -Eureka! Eureka!’ - -Etherial! ah, Etherial! the race hath not been to the swift, nor the -battle to the strong—thou hast been overshadowed! - - - THE END. - - - - - LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS. - - - THE YOUNG DOMINICAN; - OR, THE MYSTERIES OF THE INQUISITION, - AND OTHER SECRET SOCIETIES OF SPAIN. - - BY M. V. DE FEREAL. - - WITH HISTORICAL NOTES, BY M. MANUEL DE CUENDIAS - - TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH. - - ILLUSTRATED WITH TWENTY SPLENDID ENGRAVINGS BY FRENCH ARTISTS - - One volume, octavo. - - - SAY’S POLITICAL ECONOMY. - - A TREATISE ON POLITICAL ECONOMY; - - Or, The Production, Distribution and Consumption of Wealth. - - BY JEAN BAPTISTE SAY. - - FIFTH AMERICAN EDITION, WITH ADDITIONAL NOTES, - BY C. C. BIDDLE, ESQ. - - In one volume, octavo. - -It would be beneficial to our country if all those who are aspiring to -office, were required by their constituents to be familiar with the -pages of Say. - -The distinguished biographer of the author, in noticing this work, -observes: “Happily for science he commenced that study which forms the -basis of his admirable Treatise on _Political Economy_; a work which -not only improved under his hand with every successive edition, but has -been translated into most of the European languages.” - -The Editor of the North American Review, speaking of Say, observes, -that “he is the most popular, and perhaps the most able writer on -Political Economy, since the time of Smith.” “ - - - LAURENCE STERNE’S WORKS, - - WITH A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR: - - WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. - -WITH SEVEN BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS, ENGRAVED BY GILBERT AND GIHON, FROM - DESIGNS BY DARLEY. - - One volume, octavo; cloth, gilt. - -To commend or to criticise Sterne’s Works, in this age of the world, -would be all “wasteful and extravagant excess.” Uncle Toby—Corporal -Trim—the Widow—Le Fevre—Poor Maria—the Captive—even the Dead Ass,—this -is all we have to say of Sterne; and in the memory of these characters, -histories, and sketches, a thousand follies and worse than follies are -forgotten. The volume is a very handsome one. - - - THE MEXICAN WAR AND ITS HEROES, - BEING - A COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE MEXICAN WAR, - EMBRACING ALL THE OPERATIONS UNDER GENERALS TAYLOR AND SCOTT. - WITH A BIOGRAPHY OF THE OFFICERS. - - ALSO, - - AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA AND NEW MEXICO, - - Under Gen. Kearny, Cols. Doniphan and Fremont. Together with Numerous - Anecdotes of the War, and Personal Adventures of the Officers. - Illustrated with Accurate Portraits, and other Beautiful Engravings. - - In one volume, 12mo. - - - NEW AND COMPLETE COOK-BOOK. - - THE PRACTICAL COOK-BOOK, - - CONTAINING UPWARDS OF - - ONE THOUSAND RECEIPTS, - - Consisting of Directions for Selecting, Preparing, and Cooking all - kinds of Meats, Fish, Poultry, and Game; Soups, Broths, Vegetables, - and Salads. Also, for making all kinds of Plain and Fancy Breads, -Pastes, Puddings, Cakes, Creams, Ices, Jellies, Preserves, Marmalades, - &c. &c. &c. Together with various Miscellaneous Recipes, and numerous - Preparations for Invalids. - - BY MRS. BLISS. - - In one volume, 12mo. - - - The City Merchant; or, The Mysterious Failure. - - BY J. B. JONES, - - AUTHOR OF “WILD WESTERN SCENES,” “THE WESTERN MERCHANT,” &c. - - ILLUSTRATED WITH TEN ENGRAVINGS. - - In one volume, 12mo. - - - CALIFORNIA AND OREGON; - - OR, SIGHTS IN THE GOLD REGION, AND SCENES BY THE WAY, - - BY THEODORE T. JOHNSON. - - WITH NOTES, BY HON. SAMUEL R. THURSTON, - - Delegate to Congress from that Territory. - - With numerous Plates and Maps. - - - AUNT PHILLIS’S CABIN; - - OR, SOUTHERN LIFE AS IT IS. - - BY MRS. MARY H. EASTMAN. - - PRICE, 50 AND 75 CENTS. - -This volume presents a picture of Southern Life, taken at different -points of view from the one occupied by the authoress of “_Uncle Tom’s -Cabin_.” The writer, being a native of the South, is familiar with the -many varied aspects assumed by domestic servitude in that sunny region, -and therefore feels competent to give pictures of “Southern Life, as it -is.” - -Pledged to no clique or party, and free from the pressure of any and -all extraneous influences, she has written her book with a view to its -truthfulness; and the public at the North, as well as at the South, -will find in “Aunt Phillis’s Cabin” not the distorted picture of an -interested painter, but the faithful transcript of a Daguerreotypist. - - - WHAT IS CHURCH HISTORY? - - A VINDICATION OF THE IDEA OF HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENTS - - BY PHILIP SCHAF. - - TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN. - - In one volume, 12mo. - - - DODD’S LECTURES. - - DISCOURSES TO YOUNG MEN. - - ILLUSTRATED BY NUMEROUS HIGHLY INTERESTING ANECDOTES. - - BY WILLIAM DODD, LL. D., - - CHAPLAIN IN ORDINARY TO HIS MAJESTY GEORGE THE THIRD. - - FIRST AMERICAN EDITION, WITH ENGRAVINGS. - - One volume, 18mo. - - - THE IRIS: - AN ORIGINAL SOUVENIR. - - With Contributions from the First Writers in the Country. - - EDITED BY PROF. JOHN S. HART. - - With Splendid Illuminations and Steel Engravings. Bound in Turkey - Morocco and rich Papier Mache Binding. - - IN ONE VOLUME, OCTAVO. - -Its contents are entirely original. Among the contributors are names -well known in the republic of letters; such as Mr. Boker, Mr. Stoddard, -Prof. Moffat, Edith May, Mrs. Sigourney, Caroline May, Mrs. Kinney, -Mrs. Butler, Mrs. Pease, Mrs. Swift, Mr. Van Bibber, Rev. Charles -T. Brooks, Mrs. Dorr, Erastus W. Ellsworth, Miss E. W. Barnes, Mrs. -Williams, Mary Young, Dr. Gardette, Alice Carey, Phebe Carey, Augusta -Browne, Hamilton Browne, Caroline Eustis, Margaret Junkin, Maria J. B. -Browne, Miss Starr, Mrs. Brotherson, Kate Campbell, &c. - - - Gems from the Sacred Mine; - OR, HOLY THOUGHTS UPON SACRED SUBJECTS. - BY CLERGYMEN OF THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH. - - EDITED BY THOMAS WYATT, A. M. - - in one volume, 12mo. - - WITH SEVEN BEAUTIFUL STEEL ENGRAVINGS. - -The contents of this work are chiefly by clergymen of the Episcopal -Church. Among the contributors will be found the names of the Right -Rev. Bishop Potter, Bishop Hopkins, Bishop Smith, Bishop Johns, and -Bishop Doane; and the Rev. Drs. H. V. D. Johns, Coleman, and Butler; -Rev. G. T. Bedell, M’Cabe, Ogilsby, &c. The illustrations are rich and -exquisitely wrought engravings upon the following subjects:—“Samuel -before Eli,” “Peter and John healing the Lame Man,” “The Resurrection -of Christ,” “Joseph sold by his Brethren,” “The Tables of the Law,” -“Christ’s Agony in the Garden,” and “The Flight into Egypt.” These -subjects, with many others in prose and verse, are ably treated -throughout the work. - - - ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY EXEMPLIFIED, - - In the Private, Domestic, Social, and Civil Life of the Primitive - Christians, and in the Original Institutions, Offices, - Ordinances, and Rites of the Church. - - BY REV. LYMAN COLEMAN, D.D. - - In one volume 8vo. Price $2.50. - - - LONZ POWERS; Or, The Regulators. - - A ROMANCE OF KENTUCKY. - - FOUNDED ON FACTS. - - BY JAMES WEIR, ESQ. - - IN TWO VOLUMES. - -The scenes, characters, and incidents in these volumes have been copied -from nature, and from real life. They are represented as taking place -at that period in the history of Kentucky, when the Indian, driven, -after many a hard-fought field, from his favourite hunting-ground, -was succeeded by a rude and unlettered population, interspersed with -organized bands of desperadoes, scarcely less savage than the red men -they had displaced. The author possesses a vigorous and graphic pen, -and has produced a very interesting romance, which gives us a striking -portrait of the times he describes. - - - A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON BUSINESS; - OR, HOW TO GET, SAVE, SPEND, GIVE, LEND, AND BEQUEATH MONEY; - WITH AN INQUIRY INTO THE CHANCES OF SUCCESS AND CAUSES - OF FAILURE IN BUSINESS. - - BY EDWIN T. FREEDLY. - - Also, Prize Essays, Statistics, Miscellanies, and numerous private - letters from successful and distinguished business men. - - 12mo., cloth. Price One Dollar. - -The object of this treatise is fourfold. 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Fourthly, to -afford a work of solid interest to those who read without expectation -of pecuniary benefit. - - - A MANUAL OF POLITENESS, - - COMPRISING THE - - PRINCIPLES OF ETIQUETTE AND RULES OF BEHAVIOUR - - IN GENTEEL SOCIETY, FOR PERSONS OF BOTH SEXES. - - 18mo., with Plates. - - - Book of Politeness. - - THE GENTLEMAN AND LADY’S - - BOOK OF POLITENESS AND PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT - - DEDICATED TO THE YOUTH OF BOTH SEXES. - - BY MADAME CELNART. - - Translated from the Sixth Paris Edition, Enlarged and Improved. - - Fifth American Edition. - - One volume, 18mo. - - - THE ANTEDILUVIANS; Or, The World Destroyed. - - A NARRATIVE POEM, IN TEN BOOKS. - - BY JAMES M’HENRY, M. 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