diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7475-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 110345 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7475-h/7475-h.htm | 5149 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7475-h/images/ec001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 10168 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7475.txt | 4387 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7475.zip | bin | 0 -> 98920 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/easch10.txt | 4353 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/easch10.zip | bin | 0 -> 99636 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/easch10h.htm | 5122 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/easch10h.zip | bin | 0 -> 111102 bytes |
12 files changed, 19027 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7475-h.zip b/7475-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e3737d --- /dev/null +++ b/7475-h.zip diff --git a/7475-h/7475-h.htm b/7475-h/7475-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae91b3c --- /dev/null +++ b/7475-h/7475-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5149 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of From the Easy Chair, by George William Curtis</title> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; background-color: white} +img {border: 0;} +h1,h2,h3 {text-align: center;} +.ind {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} +hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} +.ctr {text-align: center;} +--> +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's From the Easy Chair, vol. 1, by George William Curtis + +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'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: From the Easy Chair, vol. 1 + +Author: George William Curtis + +Posting Date: February 8, 2015 [EBook #7475] +Release Date: February, 2005 +First Posted: May 7, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="images/ec001.jpg">Portrait of the author</a> +</p> + +<h1>FROM THE EASY CHAIR</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS</h2> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<p class="ctr"> +"I shall from Time to Time Report and Consider all Matters of what +Kind Soever that shall occur to Me." --THE TATLER. +</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#i">EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#ii">AT THE OPERA IN 1864</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#iii">EMERSON LECTURING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#iv">SHOPS AND SHOPPING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#v">MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#vi">DICKENS READING [1867]</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#vii">PHILLIS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#viii">THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#ix">HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#x">THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS [1871]</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xi">URBS AND RUS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xii">RIP VAN WINKLE</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xiii">A CHINESE CRITIC</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xiv">HOLIDAY SAUNTERING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xv">WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD [1881]</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xvi">EASTER BONNETS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xvii">JENNY LIND</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xviii">THE TOWN</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xix">SARAH SHAW RUSSELL</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xx">STREET MUSIC</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxi">A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxii">CECILIA PLAYING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxiii">THE MANNERLESS SEX</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxiv">ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxv">PLAYERS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxvi">UNMUSICAL BOXES</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxvii">THE ACADEMY DINNER IN ARCADIA</a> +</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2><a name="i">EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862.</a></h2> + +<p> +The house was full, and murmurous with the pleasant chat and rustling +movement of well-dressed persons of both sexes who waited patiently +the coming of the orator, looking at the expanse of stage, which was +carpeted, and covered with rows of settees that went backward from the +footlights to a landscape of charming freshness of color, that might +have been set for the "Maid of Milan" or the pastoral opera. Between +the seats and the foot-lights was a broad space, upon which stood a +small table and two or three chairs; and if the orator of the evening, +like a <i>primo tenore</i>, had been surveying the house through the +friendly chinks of the pastoral landscape, he would have felt a warm +suffusion of pleasure that his name should be the magic spell to +summon an audience so fair, so numerous, and so intelligent. +</p> + +<p> +There were ushers who showed ladies to seats, and with their +dress-coats and bright badges looked like a milder Metropolitan +police. But no greater force was presumed to be required of them than +pressing aside a too discursive crinoline. In the soft, ample light, +as the audience sat with fluttering ribbons and bright gems and +splendid silks and shawls, so tranquilly expectant, so calmly smiling, +so shyly blushing (if, haply, in all that crowd there were a pair of +lovers!), it was hard to believe that civil war was wasting the land, +and that at the very moment some of those glad hearts were broken--but +would not know it until the sad news came. Yet it was easy, in the +same glance, to feel that even the terrible shape that we thought we +had eluded forever did not seem, after all, so terrible; that even +civil war might be shaking the gates and the guests still smile in the +chambers. +</p> + +<p> +But while leaning against the wall, under the balcony, the Easy Chair +looks around upon the humming throng and thinks of camps far away, and +beating drums and wild alarms and sweeping squadrons of battle, there +is a sudden hush and a simultaneous glance towards one side of the +house, and there, behind the seats at the side, and making for the +stage door, marches a procession, two and two, very solemn, very bald, +very gray, and in evening dress. They are the invited guests, the +honored citizens of Brooklyn, the reverend clergy, and others; a body +of substantial, intelligent, decorous persons. They disappear for a +moment within the door, and immediately emerge upon the stage with a +composed bustle, moving the seats, taking off their coats, sedately +interchanging little jests, and finally seating themselves, and gazing +at the audience evidently with a feeling of doubt whether the honor of +the position compensates for its great disadvantage; for to sit behind +an orator is to hear, without seeing, an actor. +</p> + +<p> +The audience is now waiting, both upon the stage and in the boxes, +with patient expectation. There is little talking, but a tension of +heads towards the stage. The last word is spoken there, the last joke +expires; all attention is concentrated upon an expected object. The +edge of eagerness is not suffered to turn, but precisely at the right +moment a figure with a dark head and another with a gray head are seen +at the depth of the stage, advancing through the aisle towards the +foot-lights and the audience. They are the president of the society +and the orator. The audience applauds. It is not a burst of +enthusiasm; it is rather applausive appreciation of acknowledged +merit. The gray-headed orator bows gravely and slightly, lays a roll +of MS. upon the table, then he and the president seat themselves side +by side. For a moment they converse, evidently complimenting the +brilliant audience. The orator, also, evidently says that the table is +right, that the light is right, that the glass of water is right, and +finally that he is ready. +</p> + +<p> +In a few neat words "the honored son of Massachusetts" is introduced, +and he rises and moves a few steps forward. Standing for a moment, he +bows to the applause. He is dressed entirely in black; wearing a +dress-coat, and not a frock. Before he says a word, although it is but +a moment, a sudden flash of memory reveals to the attentive Easy Chair +all that he has heard and read of the orator before him; how he +returned an accomplished scholar from Germany, graced with a delicacy +of culture hitherto unknown to our schools; how the youthful professor +of Greek at Harvard, transferred to the pulpit of Brattle Street, in +Boston, held men and women in thrall by the splendor of his rhetoric +and the pleading music of his voice, drawing the young scholars after +him, who are now our chief glory and pride; how his Phi Beta Kappa +oration in 1824 and its apostrophe to Lafayette, who was present, is +still the fond tradition of those who heard it; and how as he passed +on from triumph to triumph in his art of oratory, the elegance, the +skill, the floridity, the elaboration, the unfailing fitness and +severe propriety of his art, with all its minor gifts, consoled Boston +that it was not Athens or Rome, and had not heard Demosthenes or +Cicero. +</p> + +<p> +If you ventured curiously to question this fond recollection, to ask +whether the eloquence was of the heart and soul, or of the mind and +lips; whether it were impassioned oratory, burning, resistless, such +as we suppose Demosthenes and Patrick Henry poured out; or whether it +were polished and skilful declamation--those old listeners were like +lovers. They did not know; they did not care. They remembered the +magic tone, the witchery of grace, the exuberant rhetoric; they +recalled the crowds clustering at his feet, the gusts of emotion that +in the church swept over the pews, the thrills of delight that in the +hall shook the audience; their own youth was part of it; they saw +their own bloom in the flower they remembered, and they could not +criticise or compare. +</p> + +<p> +All this recollection flashed through the mind of the Easy Chair +before the orator had well opened his lips. The tradition was +overpowering. It was not fair, but it was inevitable. If we could see +and hear Patrick Henry, with uplifted finger, shouting, "Charles First +had his Cromwell, and George Third--may take warning by his example!" +would it be, could it be, even with all our expectation, what we +believe it to have been? After the tremendous blare of trumpets in +advance that shake our very souls within us, no ordinary mortal can +satisfy the transcendent anticipation. We lift the leathern curtain of +St. Peter's, and catching our breath, look in. Alas! we see plainly +the other end of the great church, but with secret disappointment, +because we imagined there would be but a dim immensity of space. For +the first time we behold Niagara, and resentfully we ask, "Is that +all?" The illimitable expectation is too bewildering an overture. So +the eyes with which the Easy Chair saw were touched with glamour. The +ears with which it heard were full of eloquence beyond that of mortal +lips. And there was the orator just beginning to speak. It was not +fair; no, it was not fair. +</p> + +<p> +The first words were clearly cut, simply and perfectly articulated. +"It is often said that the day for speaking has passed, and that of +action has arrived." It was a direct, plain introduction; not a florid +exordium. The voice was clear and cold and distinct; not especially +musical, not at all magnetic. The orator was incessantly moving; not +rushing vehemently forward or stepping defiantly backward, with that +quaint planting of the foot, like Beecher; but restlessly changing his +place, with smooth and rounded but monotonous movement. The arms and +hands moved harmonious with the body, not with especial reference to +what was said, but apparently because there must be action. The first +part of the discourse was strictly a lucid narrative of events and +causes: a compact and calm chapter of our political history by a man +as well versed in it as any man in the country; and it culminated in a +description of the fall of Sumter. This was an elaborate picture in +words of a perfectly neutral tint. There was not a single one which +was peculiarly picturesque or vivid; no electric phrase that sent the +whole striking scene shuddering home to every hearer; no sudden light +of burning epithet, no sad elegiac music. The passage was purely +academic. Each word was choice; each detail was finished; it was +properly cumulative to its climax; and when that was reached, loud +applause followed. It was general, but not enthusiastic. No one could +fail to admire the skill with which the sentence was constructed; and +so elaborate a piece of workmanship justly challenged high praise. But +still--still, do you get any thrill from the most perfect mosaic? +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a caustic and brilliant sketch of the attitude of +Virginia in this war. In this part of his discourse the orator was +himself an historic personage; for it was to him, when editor of the +<i>North American Review</i>, that James Madison wrote his letter +explanatory of the Virginia resolutions of '98. The wit that sparkled +then in the pages of the <i>Review</i> glittered now along the speech. Here +was Junius turned gentleman and transfixing a State with satire. The +action of the orator was unchanged. But, in one passage, after +describing the wrongs wrought by rebels upon the country, he turned, +with upraised hand, to the rows of white-cravated clergymen who sat +behind him, and apostrophized them: "Tell me, ministers of the living +God, may we not without a breach of Christian charity exclaim, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "'Is there not some hidden curse,<br> + Some chosen thunder in the stores of heaven,<br> + Red with uncommon wrath to blast the man<br> + That seeks his greatness in his country's ruin?'" +</p> + +<p> +This passage was uttered with more force than any in the oration. The +orator's hands were clasped and raised; he moved more rapidly across +the stage; the words were spoken with artistic energy, and loudly +applauded. +</p> + +<p> +Thus far the admirable clearness of statement and perfect propriety of +speech, added to the personal prestige which surrounds any man so +distinguished as the orator, had secured a well-bred attention. But +there was not yet that eager, fixed intentness, sensitive to every +tone and shifting humor of the speaker, which shows that he thoroughly +possesses and controls the audience. There was none of that charmed +silence in which the very heart and soul seem to be listening; and at +any moment it would have been easy to go out. +</p> + +<p> +But when leaving the purely historical current the orator struck into +some considerations upon the views of our affairs taken by foreign +nations, the vivacious skill of his treatment excited a more vital +attention. There was a truer interest and a heartier applause. And +when still pressing on, but with unchanged action, he glanced at the +consequences of a successful rebellion, the audience was, for the +first time, really aroused. +</p> + +<p> +Let us suppose, said the orator, that secession is successful, what +has been gained? How are the causes of discontent removed? Will the +malcontents have seceded because of the non-rendition of fugitive +slaves? But how has secession helped it? When, in the happy words of +another, Canada has been brought down to the Potomac, do they think +their fugitives will be restored? No: not if they came to its banks +with the hosts of Pharaoh, and the river ran dry in its bed. +</p> + +<p> +Loud applause here rang through the building. +</p> + +<p> +Or, continued the orator, more vehemently, do they think, in that +case, to carry their slaves into territories now free? No, not if the +Chief-justice of the United States--and here a volley of applause +rattled in, and the orator wiped his forehead--not if the venerable +Chief-justice Taney should live yet a century, and issue a Dred Scott +decision every day of his life. +</p> + +<p> +Here followed the sincerest applause of the whole evening; and the +Easy Chair pinched his neighbor to make sure that all was as it +seemed; that these were words actually spoken, and that the orator was +Edward Everett. +</p> + +<p> +The hour and a half were passed. The peroration was upon the speaker's +tongue, closing with an exhortation to old men and old women, young +men and maidens, each in his kind and degree, to come as the waves +come when navies are stranded--to come as the winds come when forests +are rended--to come with heart and hand, with purse and +knitting-needle, with sword and gun, and fight for the Union. +</p> + +<p> +He bowed: the audience clapped for a moment, then rose and bustled +out. +</p> + +<p> +--It was not fair; no, it was not fair. The Easy Chair did not +find--how could it find?--the charm which those of another day +remembered. The oration was an admirable and elaborate address, full +of instruction and truth and patriotism, the work of a remarkably +accomplished man of great public experience. It was written in the +plainest language, and did not contain an obscure word. It was +delivered with perfect propriety, with the confidence that comes from +the habit of public speaking, and with artistic skill of articulation +and emphasis. As an illustration of memory it was remarkable, for it +was but the second time that the address had been spoken. It occupied +an hour and a half in the delivery, and yet the manuscript lay +unopened upon the table. Only three or four times was there any +hesitation which reminded the hearer that the speaker was repeating +what he had already written. His power in this respect has been often +mentioned. He is understood to have said that, if he reads anything +once, he can repeat it correctly; but if he has written it out, he can +repeat it exactly and always. This unusual facility secures to all his +addresses a completeness and finish which very few orators command. He +can say exactly what he means, and nothing more, being never betrayed +by confusion or sudden emotion to say, as so many speakers say, more +than they really think. +</p> + +<p> +But, on the other hand, it is doubtful whether all that electric +eloquence by which the hearer is caught up as by a whirlwind and swept +onward at the will of the orator, is not now a tradition in the +speeches of the orator. The glow of feeling, the rush of rhetoric, the +fiery burst of passionate power--the overwhelming impulse which makes +senates adjourn and men spring to arms--were they in the orator or in +the fascinated youth of those who remember the sermon in Brattle +Street, the apostrophe to Lafayette? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="ii">AT THE OPERA IN 1864.</a></h2> + +<p> +It was a strange chance that took the Easy Chair, the other evening, +to the opera in the midst of a terrible war. But there was the scene, +exactly as it used to be. There were the bright rows of pretty women +and smiling men; the white and fanciful opera-cloaks; the gay rich +dresses; the floating ribbons; the marvellous <i>chevelures</i>; the +pearl-gray, the dove, and "tan" gloves, holding the jewelled fans and +the beautiful bouquets--the smile, the sparkle, the grace, the superb +and irresistible dandyism that we all know so well in the days of +golden youth--they were all there, and the warm atmosphere was sweet +with the thick odor of heliotrope, the very scent of <i>haute societe</i>. +</p> + +<p> +The house was full: the opera was "Faust," and by one of the exquisite +felicities of the stage, the hero, a mild, ineffective gentleman, sang +his ditties and passionate bursts in Italian, while the poor Gretchen +vowed and rouladed in the German tongue. Certainly nothing is more +comical than the careful gravity with which people of the highest +civilization look at the absurd incongruities of the stage. After the +polyglot love-making, Gretchen goes up steps and enters a house. +Presently she opens a window at which she evidently could not appear +as she does breast high, without having her feet in the cellar. The +Italian Faust rushes, ascends three steps leading to the window, which +could not by any possibility appropriately be found there, and +reclines his head upon the bosom of the fond maid. We all look on and +applaud with "sensation." But ought we not to insist, however, that +ladies in the play shall stand upon the floor, and that the floor in a +stately mansion shall not be two feet below the front door-sill? And +ought we not to demand that Faust shall woo Gretchen in their +mother-tongue? +</p> + +<p> +But we, the ludicrous public, who snarl at the carpenter and shoemaker +if the fitness of things be not observed; we, the shrewd critics, who +pillory the luckless painter who dresses a gentleman of the +Restoration in the ruff of James First's court, gaze calmly on the +most ridiculous anachronisms and impossibilities, and smite our +perfumed gloves in approbation. It is no excuse to say that the whole +thing is absurd; that people do not carry on the business of life in +song, nor expire in recitative. That is true, but even fairy tales +have their consistency. Every part is adapted to every other, and, in +the key, the whole is harmonious. Hermann, for instance, the basso, +who sang Mephistopheles, would have been quite perfect if he had only +remembered this. But he forgot that Mephisto is a sly and subtle +devil. He caricatured him. He made him a buffoon and repulsive. Such +extravagance could not have imposed upon Faust or Martha; yet we all +agreed that it was very fine, and amiably applauded what no opera-goer +of sense could seriously approve. +</p> + +<p> +You think that this is taking syllabub seriously, and that the +circumstances of the time had made the Easy Chair hypercritical. No; +it was only that there comes a time in theatre-going when the boxes +are more interesting than the stage. The mimic life fades before the +real. In the midst of the finest phrases of the impassioned Herr +Faust, what if your truant eyes stray across the parquette and see a +slight, pale figure, and recognize one of the bravest and most daring +Union generals, whose dashing assaults upon the enemy's works carried +dismay and victory day after day? Herr Faust trills on, but you see +the sombre field and the desperate battle and the glorious cause. +Gretchen musically sighs, but you see the brave boys lying where they +fell: you hear the deep, sullen roar of the cannonade; you catch far +away through the tumult of war the fierce shout of victory. And there +sits the slight, pale figure with eyes languidly fixed upon the stage; +his heart musing upon other scenes; himself the unconscious hero of a +living drama. +</p> + +<p> +Or, if you choose to lift your eyes, you see that woman with the +sweet, fair face, composed, not sad, turned with placid interest +towards the loves of Gretchen and Faust. She sees the eager delight of +the meeting; she hears the ardent vow; she feels the rapture of the +embrace. With placid interest she watches all--she, and the sedate +husband by her side. And yet when her eyes wander it is to see a man +in the parquette below her on the other side, who, between the acts, +rises with the rest and surveys the house, and looks at her as at all +the others. At this distance you cannot say if any softer color steals +into that placid face; you cannot tell if his survey lingers longer +upon her than upon the rest. Yet she was Gretchen once, and he was +Faust. There is no moonlight romance, no garden ecstasy, poorly +feigned upon the stage, that is not burned with eternal fire into +their memories. Night after night they come. They do not especially +like this music. They are not infatuated with these singers. They have +seats for the season; she with her husband, he in the orchestra +chairs. She has a pleasant home and sweet children and a kind mate, +and is not unhappy. He is at ease in his fortunes, and content. They +do not come here that they may see each other. They meet elsewhere as +all acquaintances meet. They cherish no morbid repining, no +sentimental regret. But every night there is an opera, and the theme +of every opera is love; and once, ah! once, she was Gretchen and he +was Faust. +</p> + +<p> +Do you see? These are three out of the three thousand. There is +nothing to distinguish them from the rest. Look at them all, and +reflect that all have their history; and that it is known, as this one +is known, to some other old Easy Chair, sitting in the parquette and +spying round the house. "All the world's a stage, and men and women +merely players." +</p> + +<p> +Is it quite so? Are these players? The young pale general there, the +placid woman, the man in the orchestra stall, have they been playing +only? There are scars upon that young soldier's body; in the most +secret drawer of that woman's chamber there is a dry, scentless +flower; the man in the orchestra stall could show you a tress of +golden hair. If they are players, who is in earnest? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="iii">EMERSON LECTURING.</a></h2> + +<p> +Many years ago the Easy Chair used to hear Ralph Waldo Emerson +lecture. Perhaps it was in the small Sunday-school room under a +country meeting-house, on sparkling winter nights, when all the +neighborhood came stamping and chattering to the door in hood and +muffler, or ringing in from a few miles away, buried under +buffalo-skins. The little, low room was dimly lighted with oil-lamps, +and the boys clumped about the stoves in their cowhide boots, and +laughed and buzzed and ate apples and peanuts and giggled, and grew +suddenly solemn when the grave men and women looked at them. At the +desk stood the lecturer and read his manuscript, and all but the boys +sat silent and inthralled by the musical spell. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the hearers remembered the speaker as a boy, as a young man. +Some wondered what he was talking about. Some thought him very queer. +All laughed at the delightful humor or the illustrative anecdote that +sparkled for a moment upon the surface of his talk; and some sat +inspired with unknown resolves, soaring upon lofty hopes as they +heard. A nobler life, a better manhood, a purer purpose wooed every +listening soul. It was not argument, nor description, nor appeal. It +was wit and wisdom, and hard sense and poetry, and scholarship and +music. And when the words were spoken and the lecturer sat down, the +Easy Chair sat still and heard the rich cadences lingering in the air, +as the young priest's heart throbs with the long vibrations when the +organist is gone. +</p> + +<p> +The same speaker had been heard a few years previously in the Masonic +Temple in Boston. It was the fashion among the gay to call him +transcendental. Grave parents were quoted as saying, "I don't go to +hear Mr. Emerson; I don't understand him. But my daughters do." Then +came a volume containing the discourses. They were called <i>Essays</i>. +Has our literature produced any wiser book? +</p> + +<p> +As the lyceum or lecture system grew, the philosopher whom "my +daughters" understood was called to speak. A simplicity of manner that +could be called rustic if it were not of a shy, scholarly elegance; +perfect composure, clear, clean, crisp sentences; maxims as full of +glittering truth as a winter night of stars; an incessant spray of +fine fancies like the November shower of meteors; and the same +intellectual and moral exaltation, expansion, and aspiration, were the +characteristics of all his lectures. +</p> + +<p> +He was never exactly popular, but always gave a tone and flavor to the +whole lyceum course, as the lump of ambergris flavors the Sultan's +cups of coffee for a year. "We can have him once in three or four +seasons," said the committees. But really they had him all the time +without knowing it. He was the philosopher Proteus, and he spoke +through all the more popular mouths. The speakers were acceptable +because they were liberal, and he was the great liberalizer. They +were, and they are, the middle-men between him and the public. They +watered the nectar, and made it easy to drink. +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair heard from time to time of Proteus on the platform--how +he was more and more eccentric--how he could not be understood--how +abrupt his manner was. But the Chair did not believe that the flame +which had once been so pure could ever be dimmer, especially as he +recognized its soft lustre on every aspect of life around him. +</p> + +<p> +After many years the opportunity to hear him came again; and although +the experiment was dangerous the Chair did not hesitate to try it. The +hall was pretty and not too large, and the audience was the best that +the country could furnish. Every one came solely to hear the speaker, +for it was one lecture in a course of his only. It was pleasant to +look around and mark the famous men and the accomplished women +gathering quietly in the same city where they used to gather to hear +him a quarter of a century before. How much the man who was presently +to speak had done for their lives, and their children's, and the +country! The power of one man is not easily traced in its channels and +details, but it is marked upon the whole. The word "transcendentalism" +has long passed by. It has not, perhaps, even yet gone out of fashion +to smile at wisdom as visionary, but this particular wise man had been +acquitted of being understood by my daughters, and there were rows of +"hardheads," "practical people," curious and interesting to +contemplate in the audience. +</p> + +<p> +The tall figure entered at a side door, and sat down upon a sofa +behind the desk. Age seemed not to have touched him since the evenings +in the country Sunday-school room. As he stood at the desk the +posture, the figure, the movement, were all unchanged. There was the +same rapt introverted glance as he began in a low voice, and for an +hour the older tree shook off a ceaseless shower of riper, fairer +fruit. The topic was "Table-Talk, or Conversation;" and the lecture +was its own most perfect illustration. It was not a sermon, nor an +oration, nor an argument; it was the perfection of talk; the talk of a +poet, of a philosopher, of a scholar. Its wit was a rapier, smooth, +sharp, incisive, delicate, exquisite. The blade was pure as an icicle. +You would have sworn that the hilt was diamond. The criticism was +humane, lofty, wise, sparkling; the anecdote so choice and apt, and +trickling from so many sources, that we seemed to be hearing the best +things of the wittiest people. It was altogether delightful, and the +audience sat glowing with satisfaction. There was no rhetoric, no +gesture, no grimace, no dramatic familiarity and action; but the +manner was self-respectful and courteous to the audience, and the tone +supremely just and sincere. "He is easily king of us all," whispered +an orator. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was not oratory either in its substance or purpose. It was a +statement of what this wise man believed conversation ought to be. Its +inevitable influence--the moral of the lecture, dear Lady Flora--was a +purification of daily talk, and the general good influence of incisive +truth-telling. If we have ever had a greater preacher of that gospel +who is he? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="iv">SHOPS AND SHOPPING.</a></h2> + +<p> +If the stranger in New York, on any pleasant day, finds himself near +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage he will be in the midst of a very +pretty scene. Perhaps as he reads these words and asks the question +where that romantic cot may be found, he is comfortably seated in it, +with his feet placidly reposing upon its window-sills. It is, indeed, +in a new form. It no longer looks as it did to the early citizen of +fifty years ago, driving out before breakfast upon the Bloomingdale +Road, and surveying the calm river from the seclusion of Stryker's +Bay. It had an indefinable road-side English air in those far-off +mornings. The early citizen would not have been surprised had he heard +the horn of the guard merrily winding, and beheld the mail-coach of +old England bowling up to the door. There were fields and open spaces +about it, for it was on the edge of the city that was already reaching +out upon the island. Bloomingdale! Twas a lovely name, and 'tis a +great pity that the chief association with it is that of a very dusty +road. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, if you will contemplate the Fifth Avenue Hotel you will see +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage in its present form. But what a +busy, brilliant neighborhood it is now! There are shops that recall +the prettiest upon the boulevards in Paris; and the people are greatly +to be pitied who are too fine to stop and look into them. To be too +fine is to lose much. Yet what scion of the golden youth of this +moment would dare to walk by the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway +Cottage eating an apple at three o'clock in the afternoon? +</p> + +<p> +There was a grave and well-dressed gentleman who stopped recently at +the stand of Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan, which is just in the midst of +the gay promenade, to transact some business in peanut candy. The +interest of the public in that operation was inconceivable. If he had +been Mr. Vanderbilt buying out Mr. Astor--if he had been a lunatic +astray from the asylum, or a clown escaped from the circus--he could +hardly have excited more attention. The passengers stared in +amazement. Some young gentlemen, escorting certain young ladies from +school, cracked excellent jokes upon the honest buyer of peanut candy; +and if his daughter or any friend had chanced to pass and had seen +him, she would probably have been seriously troubled and half ashamed. +</p> + +<p> +Now peanut candy is very good, and at Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan's +stand it is very cheap. Nobody is ashamed of liking it, nor of eating +it. If the grave gentleman had stepped into Caswell's brilliant shop, +let us suppose--where, perhaps, it is also sold--and had called for +that particular sweet, nobody would have stared nor made a joke nor +felt that it was extraordinary. Yet, how many of the brave generals in +the war, who charged in the very face of flaming batteries, would dare +to stop at Mrs. O'Finnigan's and buy ten cents' worth of peanut candy +if they saw Mrs. Sweller's carriage approaching, or Miss Dasher just +coming upon the walk? And as for the Misses Spanker, who daily drive +in that superb open wagon with yellow wheels, and who resemble nothing +so much as the figures in a Parisian doll-carriage, if they saw an +admirer of theirs bargaining for peanut candy at a street stand they +would not know him--they would no more bow to a man so lost to all the +finer sense of the <i>comme il faut</i> than they would nod to a +street-sweeper. It is astonishing what an effect is produced upon some +human beings of the tender sex by clothing them in silks cut in a +certain form, and seating them in a high wooden box on yellow wheels. +</p> + +<p> +And upon us, also. When the Easy Chair beholds the silken Misses +Spanker rolling by, superior, upon those yellow wheels, it is with +difficulty that it recalls the cheese and sausage from which all that +splendor springs. To-morrow it will be Mrs. O'Finnigan's grandchildren +who will look down from their yellow wheels at the peanut and apple +stands, and wonder how persons can be so vulgar as to buy candy in the +streets. It is a whim of Mrs. Grundy's, who is all whimsey. She will +not let us buy a piece of simple candy at the corner, but she will +allow us to drag a silk dress over the garbage of the pavement. 'Tis a +whimsical sovereign. But we are so carefully trained that it is not +easy to disobey her. If to prove your independence you should stop to +buy the candy, would the pleasure of asserting yourself balance the +unpleasant consciousness that you were wondered at and laughed at? +</p> + +<p> +But the text was shops, and we have drifted into this episode because +Mrs. O'Finnigan sells peanut candy in her shop upon the sidewalk near +the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage, in the midst of the +gay spectacle of a summer day. And within a stone's-toss of her stand +how many fine houses you will see, and how many other fascinating +shops! Our English ancestors were called a shopkeeping nation by +Napoleon; but it is his own Frenchmen and Frenchwomen who have the +true secret of shopkeeping. They make shops fascinating. They have +made shopkeeping a fine art. The other day the Easy Chair stepped into +a shop in Maiden Lane, prepared to spend a very pretty sum of money, +for a very proper purpose. But if it had invaded the shopkeeper's +house, which is his castle, or threatened his hat, which is his crown, +it could not have been received more coolly. The disdainful +indifference with which its question was answered was exquisitely +comical; and the shopkeeper proceeded to look for what was required +with a superb carelessness, and an air of utter weariness and disgust +of this incessant doing of favors to the most undeserving and +insignificant people. It was plainly an act of pure grace that the +Easy Chair was not instantly shot into the street as rubbish, or given +in charge to the police as a common vagabond. +</p> + +<p> +This worthy attendant--doubtless very estimable in his private +capacity--is a serious injury to the business which he is supposed to +help. He does not in the least understand his profession. Let an Easy +Chair advise him to run over the sea to Paris, and observe how they +keep shop in that capital. Does he want a cravat? Here is a houri, +neatly dressed, evidently long waiting for him especially, and eager +to serve him. "Is it a cravat that Monsieur wishes? Charming! The most +ravishing styles are just ready! Is it blue, or this, or that, that +Monsieur prefers? Monsieur's taste is perfect. Look! It is a miracle +of beauty that he selects. Will he permit?" And before you know it, +you foolish fellow, who don't understand the first principle of your +calling--before you know it, she has thrown it around your neck, she +has tied it deftly under your chin, and that pretty face is looking +into yours, and that pleasant voice is saying, "Nothing could be +better. It is the most smiling effect possible!" You might as well +hope to escape the sirens, as to go from under those hands without +buying that cravat. +</p> + +<p> +This is shopkeeping, and a little study of the art, as thus practised, +would be of the utmost service to the Easy Chair's friend in Maiden +Lane. The shops there are pretty, and especially during the holidays +they are glittering, but they are a little cold and formal. The air of +the Boulevards is to be detected only in the neighborhood of Corporal +Thompson's Broadway Cottage. Whether cravats are there wafted around +the buyer's neck, as it were, entangling him hopelessly in silken and +satin webs, the Easy Chair does not know. But it can believe it, as it +passes by upon the outside, and beholds the windows which Paris could +hardly surpass. Through those windows it sees that, as in Paris, the +attendants are often women. It is thereby reminded that in Paris the +women are among the most accomplished accountants also; and it +remembers that in the same city men are cooks. It is very sure that +when Madame Welles, who was afterwards the Marchioness De Lavalette, +became at the death of her husband the head of the great +banking-house, her cook was a man. +</p> + +<p> +And thereupon the Easy Chair falls into meditation upon "the sphere" +of the sexes, and asks itself, as it loiters about the site of the +Broadway Cottage, admiring the pretty shops, whether, if it be womanly +for woman to keep shop and to acquire property by her faithful +industry, it can be manly for man to make laws appropriating and using +her property without her consent? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="v">MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN.</a></h2> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy was lately astonished by the remark of a cheerful +cosmopolitan whom she proposed to introduce to a very rich man. She +seemed to catch her breath as she spoke of his exceeding great riches +in the tone of admiring awe which betrays the devout snob. The +cosmopolitan listened pleasantly as Mrs. Grundy spoke with the air of +proposing to him the greatest of favors and blessings. +</p> + +<p> +"You say he is very rich?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Enormously, fabulously," replied Mrs. Grundy, as if crossing herself. +</p> + +<p> +"Will he give me any of his money?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy gazed blankly at the questioner. "Give you any of his +money? What do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"Mean?" answered the cheerful cosmopolitan; "my meaning is plain. If I +am introduced to a scholar, he gives me something of his scholarship; +a traveller gives me experience; a scientific man, information; a +musician plays or sings for me; and if you introduce me to a man whose +distinction is his riches, I wish to know what advantage I am to gain +from his acquaintance, and whether I may expect him to impart to me +something of that for which he is distinguished." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy, who is easily discomposed by an unexpected turn in the +conversation, looked confused, but said, presently, "Why, you will +dine with the Midases and the Plutuses." + +"But they are merely the same thing," said the cosmopolitan, gayly. +"You know the story: Mr. and Mrs. MacSycophant, Miss MacSycophant, +Miss Imogen MacSycophant, Mr. Plantagenet MacSycophant, Miss Boadicea +MacSycophant--and more of the same. One MacSycophant is as good as +twenty, Mrs. Grundy; and as I know the Midases already, and find them +amusingly dull, why should I know the Plutuses, who are probably even +duller?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy looked as if transfixed. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," continued the cosmopolitan, laughing, "I do not deny that money +is an excellent thing. I am glad that I am not in want of it. But it +is a dangerous thing to handle. If you don't manage it well it exposes +you terribly. Great riches are like an electric light--like a noonday +sun; they reveal everything. If a man stands in a ridiculous attitude, +or is clad scantily, the intense light displays him remorselessly to +every beholder. Great riches do the same. I saw you at the Midases', +dear Mrs. Grundy. Did you ever see a more sumptuous entertainment or a +more splendid palace? What pictures and statues and vases! what +exquisite and costly decoration! what gold and glass! what Sevres and +Dresden! But the more I admired the beautiful works of art, the more I +thought of the enthusiasm and devotion of the artist, the more I was +touched by the grace and delicacy of color and form around me; and the +more I heard Midas talk, the more clearly I saw that he did not see, +or feel, or understand anything of the real value and significance of +his own <i>entourage</i>. The more beautiful it was, the more plainly it +displayed his total want of perception of beauty. +</p> + +<p> +"His house is a magnificent museum. It is full of treasures. But they +all dwarf and deride him. They are so many relentless lights turned on +to show how completely he is not at home in his own house. He is as +much out of place among them as a horse in a studio. He has all the +proper books of a gentleman's library, and all superbly bound. What +does he know about them? He never read a book. He has marvellous +pictures. What does he know of pictures? He doesn't know whether +Gainsborough was a painter or a potter, or whether Giotto was a Greek +or a Roman. He has books and pictures merely because he has money +enough to buy them, and because it is understood that a fine house +should have a library and a gallery. Is it otherwise with his glass +and porcelain? What do you think that he could tell you of Dresden +china--its history, its masters, its manufacture? You say that very +few people could tell you much about it. Granted; but if a man +surrounds himself with it, and forces it upon your attention, you have +a right not only to ask such questions, but to expect answers. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Mrs. Grundy, when I was a young man on my travels, and was +introduced at a London club, the porter, or the major-domo, or the +door-keeper, or whatever he was, seemed to me like a peer of the +realm. He was faultlessly dressed, and he had most tranquil manners. +Well, our good friend Midas is that gentleman. He is the curator of a +fine museum. He opens the door to a well-furnished club. But he is in +no proper sense master of his house. The master of such a house, as +Goethe said of the picture-owner, is the man to whom you can say, +'Show me the best.' Poor Midas could only show us the costliest. Eh, +Mrs. Grundy?" +</p> + +<p> +That excellent lady's eyes had expanded, during these remarks, until +they were fixed in a round, stony stare at the cheerful cosmopolitan. +</p> + +<p> +"And this, you see, my good lady, is the reason that all this display +is called vulgar. It represents nothing but money. It does not +represent taste, or intelligence, or talent, in the possessor, and the +sole relation between him and his possessions is his ability to pay +for them. You drink his superior wines. But even you, Mrs. Grundy, are +not quite sure that he could distinguish between the finest madeira +and a common sherry. That is no fault, surely, but there is a great +difference between wines. +</p> + +<p> +"When you kindly offer to present me to a gentleman of whom you can +say only that he is very rich, and I ask you if he will give me some +of his money, you look surprised and shocked. But I am not a +misanthrope, and I ask a question which you can answer affirmatively. +He will give me some of his money in giving me some of the pleasure +which is derivable from what his money buys. For that I am grateful. I +tip the custode with my sincere thanks. I bow to the door-keeper with +hearty acknowledgment. I shall go again and again with great pleasure. +But I shall not make the singular mistake of supposing that he bears +the same relation to his possessions that the musician bears to his +music, and the scholar to his knowledge, and the traveller to his +shrewd observation. +</p> + +<p> +"You think that I am basely looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not at +all. I am only declining to believe the porter to be a peer of the +realm merely because he wears a white cravat and has tranquil manners. +If Midas is a dull man, all the money in the world does not make him +interesting. But if he has accumulated beautiful and interesting +things, I shall gladly go to his house and see them. Now, my dear Mrs. +Grundy, that is very different from going to his house to see the +Plutuses. They are not the possessions that make his house desirable. +My young friend Hornet says that if the only way to drink Midas's +gold-seal Johannisberger is to take Mrs. Plutus down to dinner, he +will not hesitate to pay the price, as he is willing to pay the price +of sea-sickness if he wishes to see the Vatican. Does my dear Mrs. +Grundy comprehend?" +</p> + +<p> +--But the good lady was gone. She could draw but one conclusion from +such a strain of remark about people with fabulous incomes. The +cheerful cosmopolitan must have been dining with Mr. Midas, and must +have sat much too long at table. What a pity that so pleasant a man +should permit himself such excesses! There was, however, but one +course for a self-respecting woman to pursue--Mrs. Grundy had left him +alone. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="vi">DICKENS READING. [1867.]</a></h2> + +<p> +When, hereafter, some chance traveller picks up this odd number of an +old magazine and opens to this very page, let him know that the +evening of Dickens's first reading in New York was bright with +moonlight veiled in a soft gray snow-cloud. The crowd at the entrance +was not large. The speculators in tickets were not troublesome, +because all the tickets had been long sold. The police, as usual, were +polite and efficient; and going up the steep staircase, and passing +through the single door, we were all quietly and pleasantly seated by +eight o'clock. The floor of Steinway Hall is level, so that the +audience is lost to itself; but it was easy for all of us to perceive, +by scanning our neighbors, that we were a very fine body of people. At +least everybody who was present said so. We all remarked that the +intelligence and distinction of the city were present, and that it +must be extremely gratifying to Mr. Dickens to be welcomed by the most +intellectual and appreciative audience that could be assembled in New +York. +</p> + +<p> +The details of the arrangement upon the platform, the screen behind, +the hidden lights above and below, and the stiff little table with the +water-bottle, are familiar. But as we all sat looking at them, and at +the variously splendid toilets that rustled in, and fluttered, and +finally settled, it was not possible to escape the great thought that +in a few moments we should see at that queer, stiff table the creator +of Sam Weller, and Oliver Twist, and Micawber, and Dick Swiveller, and +the rest of the endless, marvellous company--the greatest story-teller +since Scott, one of the most famous names in literature since +Fielding. When he was here before Carlyle growled in <i>Past and +Present</i> about "Schnauspiel, the distinguished novelist," and there +were some who laughed. But the laugh has passed by.--Look! There is a +man, who looks like somebody's "own man," who scuffles across the +stage and turns up a burner or two; and he is scarcely out of the way +when--there he comes, rapidly, in full evening dress, with a heavy +watch-chain, and a nosegay in his button-hole, the world's own man. +</p> + +<p> +His reception was sober. The whole audience clapped its gloved hands. +Not a heel, not a cane, mingled with the sound, not a solitary voice. +It was a very muffled cordiality, an enthusiasm in kid gloves. The +Easy Chair, for one, longed to rise and shout. Heaven has given us +voices, brethren, with which to welcome and salute our friends, and if +ever a long, long cheer should have rung from the heart, it was when +the man who has done so much for all of us stood before us. But it was +useless. The steady clapping was prolonged, and Dickers stood calmly, +bowing easily once or twice, and waiting with the air of one ready to +begin business. +</p> + +<p> +The instant there was silence he did begin: "Ladies and gentlemen, I +am to have the honor of reading to you this evening the trial-scene +from Pickwick, and a Christmas Carol in a prelude and three scenes. +Scene first, Marley's Ghost. Marley was dead, to begin with." These +words, or words very similar, were spoken in a husky voice, not +remarkable in any way, and with the English cadence in articulation, a +rising inflection at the end of every few words. They were spoken with +perfect simplicity, and the introductory description was read with +good sense, and conveyed a fine relish upon the reader's part of the +things described. There was nothing formal, no effort of any kind. The +left hand held the book, the right hand moved continually, slightly +indicating the action described, as of putting on a muffler, or +whatever it might be. But the moment Scrooge spoke the drama began. +</p> + +<p> +Every character was individualized by the voice and by a slight change +of expression. But the reader stood perfectly still, and the instant +transition of the voice from the dramatic to the descriptive tone was +unfailing and extraordinary. This was perfection of art. Nor was the +evenness of the variety less striking. Every character was indicated +with the same felicity. Of course the previous image in the hearer's +mind must be considered in estimating the effect. The reader does not +create the character, the writer has done that; and now he refreshes +it into unwonted vividness, as when a wet sponge is passed over an old +picture. Scrooge, and Tiny Tim, and Sam Weller and his wonderful +father, and Sergeant Buzfuz, and Justice Stareleigh have an intenser +reality and vitality than before. As the reading advances the spell +becomes more entrancing. The mind and heart answer instantly to every +tone and look of the reader. In a passionate outburst, as in Bob +Cratchit's wail for his lost little boy, or in Scrooge's prayer to be +allowed to repent, the whole scene lives and throbs before you. And +when, in the great trial of Bardell against Pickwick, the thick, fat +voice of the elder Weller wheezes from the gallery, "Put it down with +a wee, me Lerd, put it down with a wee," you turn to look for the +gallery and behold the benevolent parent. +</p> + +<p> +Through all there is a striking sense of reserved power, and of +absolute mastery of the art. There is no straining for points, no +exaggeration, no extravagance, but an instinctive and adequate outlay +of means for every effect, and a complete preservation of personal +dignity throughout. The enjoyment is sincere and unique; and when the +young gentleman before us remarks to the flossy young woman at his +side that "any clever actor can do the thing as well," we congratulate +him inwardly upon his experience of the theatre. Perhaps, also, the +flossy young woman is of opinion that any clever author can write as +well as this reader. +</p> + +<p> +There is a serious drawback to this first evening's enjoyment, +however, and that is that fully a third of those present hear very +imperfectly. Nothing can surpass the air of mingled indignation, +chagrin, and disappointment with which a severe lady just behind +declares that she did not hear a word, and adds, caustically, that the +spectacle alone is hardly worth the money. Not worth the money? Dear +Madam, the Easy Chair would willingly pay more than the price of +admission merely to see him. And just as he is thinking so another +friend leans forward and says, in a decided tone of utter +disappointment, "Just let me take your glass, will you? I can't hear a +word, but I should like to see how the man looks." As the Easy Chair +passes out of the door he encounters Mr. and Mrs. Sealskin, sailing +smoothly and silently out. "How delightful!" exclaims the innocent and +unwary Chair. "Didn't hear a word," says Mr. Sealskin, sententiously, +and without pausing in his course; and Madam upon his arm raises her +eyebrows and looks emphatically "not a word!" So the Easy Chair +gradually discovers that there has been a very wide and lamentable +disappointment, and that a large part of the throng has been +tantalized through the evening in the vain effort to hear--catching a +few words and losing the point of the joke. No wonder they are very +sober, and sail out of the hall very steadily, with an air of thinking +that they have been victims, but also with the plain wish to think as +well of Mr. Charles Dickens as circumstances will allow. Still, they +evidently hold him, upon the whole, responsible, just as an audience +assembled to hear a lecture, and obliged to go unlectured away, holds +the lecturer--chafing in a snow-bank upon the railroad fifty miles +away--responsible for its disappointment. It is pleasant for the +Sealskins to read, as the Easy Chair did the next morning, in the +ever-veracious and independent press, that Mr. Dickens's voice is +heard with ease in every part of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +But let them feel as they may, those who did not hear are sure to go +again, and if they hear the next time, again and again. Let the future +reader of this odd number of a magazine learn further that such was +the popular eagerness to attend these readings that people gathered +before light to stand in the line of the ticket-office. One historic +boy is said to have passed the night in the cold waiting for the +opening of the office, and to have sold his prize for thirty dollars +in gold to "a Southerner." Another person was offered twenty dollars +for his place in the line, with merely a chance of getting a ticket +when his turn came at the office. +</p> + +<p> +The interest was unabated to the end, and under the personal spell of +the enchanter that old ill-feeling towards the author of <i>American +Notes</i> and the creator of Chuzzlewit melted away. And why not? Do we +not all know our Yankee brother of whom Dickens told us, who has a +huge note of interrogation in each eye, and can we blame the +Englishman for using his own eyes? Is not that silent traveller whom +he saw still to be seen in every train sucking the great ivory head of +his cane and taking it out occasionally and looking at it to see how +it is getting on? If we had been a little angry with Lemuel Gulliver +or Robinson Crusoe, could our anger have survived hearing one of them +tell his story of Liliput, or the other the tale of the solitary +island? +</p> + +<p> +After his little winter tour Dickens returned to New York to take +leave of the American public. On the Saturday evening before the final +reading the newspaper fraternity gave him a dinner at Delmonico's, +which was then at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fourteenth Street, +formerly the hospitable house of Moses H. Grinnell. At this dinner Mr. +Greeley presided, and that the bland and eccentric teetotaler, who was +not supposed to be versed in what Carlyle called the "tea-table +proprieties," should take the chair at a dinner to so roistering a +blade--within discreet limits--and so skilled an artist of all kinds +of beverages as Dickens, was a stroke of extravaganza in his own way. +The dinner was in every way memorable and delightful, but the +enjoyment was sobered by the illness of the guest from one of the +attacks which, as was known soon afterwards, foretold the speedy end. +It was, indeed, doubtful if he could appear, but after an hour he came +limping slowly into the room on the arm of Mr. Greeley. +</p> + +<p> +In his speech, with great delicacy and feeling, Dickens alluded to +some possible misunderstanding, now forever vanished, between him and +his hosts, and declared his purpose of publicly recognizing that fact +in future editions of his works. His words were greeted with great +enthusiasm, and on the following Monday evening he read, at Steinway +Hall, for the last time in this country, and sailed on Wednesday. He +was still very lame, but he read with unusual vigor, and with deep +feeling. As he ended, and slowly limped away, the applause was +prodigious, and the whole audience rose and stood waiting. Reaching +the steps of the platform he paused, and turned towards the hall; +then, after a moment, he came slowly and painfully back again, and +with a pale face and evidently profoundly moved, he gazed at the vast +audience. The hall was hushed, and in a voice firm, but full of +pathos, he spoke a few words of farewell. "I shall never recall you," +he said, "as a mere public audience, but rather as a host of personal +friends, and ever with the greatest gratitude, tenderness, and +consideration. God bless you, and God bless the land in which I leave +you!" The great audience waited respectfully, wistfully watching him +as he slowly withdrew. The faithful Dolby, his friend and manager, +helped him down the steps. For a moment he turned and looked at the +crowded hall. It was full of hearts responding to his own. There was a +common consciousness that it was a last parting, and his fervid +benediction was silently reciprocated.--Then the door closed behind +him. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="vii">PHILLIS.</a></h2> + +<p> +There is one lady in literature and in life whom all men are said, not +without gentle sarcasm if a woman says it, to wish especially to know. +She is declared to be the vision that haunts the youth as his heart +opens to the soft influences of love, and her figure, trim and +debonair, that allures the older fancy of the man who sits "alone and +merry at forty year," having seen his earlier Gillian and Marian and a +score more happily married. She is, in fact, the domestic magician, +the good fairy, the genius of home, the thoughtful, tactful, careful, +intelligent house-keeper, the very she whom Milton sings, introducing +us to +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Herbs and other country messes<br> + Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses." +</p> + +<p> +Her name is Phillis--not exactly a romantic name, nor, indeed, is it +meant by the poet to be a romantic name; for he has just before +sketched another kind of woman: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Towers and battlements it sees<br> + Bosom'd high in tufted trees,<br> + Where perhaps some beauty lies,<br> + The cynosure of neighboring eyes." +</p> + +<p> +Such a cynosure could not possibly have been named Phillis: Artemis, +perhaps, or Hildegarde; Constance, Una, Mildred, or Cunigunda, but by +no possibility Phillis. That is a pastoral name, a shepherd's +sweetheart. Indeed, the two kinds of women are perfectly indicated and +distinguished in these lines of <i>L'Allegro</i>, which have no detail of +description. The impression of womanly difference is nowhere more +completely given. One picture is that of the lofty, haughty, "highborn +Helen," the superb Lady Clara Vere de Vere; the other is that of the +thrifty Baucis, the gardener Adam's wife. And the two are as near in +the young man's heart as they are in the poem. +</p> + +<p> +When Mr. William Guppy raised his eyes from the pit of the theatre to +Miss Esther Summerson sitting in the boxes, the "image imprinted on +his 'art" was that of the cynosure of neighboring eyes, stately among +stately towers and ancestral trees. But doubtless when Mr. William +Guppy, as lovers will, abandoned himself to blissful dreams of the +possible home that should grow out of his lofty passion, it was +another vision that he saw; it was the high-born Helen coming down to +breakfast in a sweet morning-cap, a neat-handed Phillis. For love, +which soars and sings, also builds its nest. The one instinct is as +deep and sure as the other. The cynosure of worshipping hearts and +eyes is but the romantic aspect of Phillis: and because she is so +lofty and so lovely will she be the miracle-worker in the household. +The secret sorrow of a thousand homes is that the lady of the towers +and battlements does not prove in fact to be also the neat-handed +Phillis. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, it is a kind of national complaint and lamentation that the +neat-handed Phillis is disappearing altogether. This is the +significance of the servant-girl question. This is the root of the +alarming conviction that Phillis is changing into Biddy, whose fit +epithet is not neat-handed. This is the meaning of the cry for +bread--light, sweet, well-baked bread; not the clammy dough which is +served to a despairing land. This is the reason of the wondering +question, What has become of roast meat? and of the melancholy +conviction that henceforth baked beef is to replace the juicy sirloin +of tradition, history, and elegant literature. +</p> + +<p> +Of the accomplished and intelligent young women who honor the Easy +Chair at this moment with their attention, of course the immense +majority can broil a steak to a turn, or mix the airiest bread, or +boil potatoes as new-fallen snow. But there are some unfortunates who +cannot do it. Let us pity them. They would probably tell us that they +have not studied poetry and music, the French language, crochet, and +the Boston, to become kitchen drudges: and they will not fail to +remind us that Cinderella did not charm the prince as a kitchen-maid, +and that she had ceased to be Cinderbreech, and had emerged from the +chimney-corner when she married him. But will they please to curb +their wrath for a moment and listen to Dr. Clarke? "Unless men and +women both have brains, the nation will go down. As much brain is +needed to govern a household as to command a ship; as much to guide a +family aright as to guide a Congress aright; as much to do the least +and the greatest of woman's work as to do the least and the greatest +of man's work." +</p> + +<p> +Now, the dressing of messes by the neat-handed Phillis is one of the +important elements of governing a household; and the Princess +Cinderella was the better housewife because she had once been +Cinderbreech. Nelson was the better admiral because he had once been +cabin-boy. Dickens was the better story-teller because he had once +been reporter. If, indeed, Darby can afford to pay a hundred dollars +monthly to a <i>chef</i>, Joan need know nothing of messes; but how many +such Darbys are there? +</p> + +<p> +These remarks, or similar ones, have been often heard by the gentler +reader, and are somewhat familiar to her, not to say wearisome. "Oh +yes," she says, "I know all this: men want women in the family to be +angels and French cooks rolled into one. Heaven save the mark! Suppose +that women on their side were to expect men in the family to be heroes +and gentlemen as well as 'good providers?'" +</p> + +<p> +Well, madame, they ought to expect it and to insist upon it. Perhaps +you have played the little game of parlor magic? There are homes in +which that game is always played, and they are the happiest of all. In +them the real value of neatness and order, of thrift and taste and +temperance, is understood, and the Beauty who once lay lapped in lofty +towers knows that the romance which enshrined her amid those +battlements and tufted trees is preserved and forever refreshed by the +art of the neat-handed Phillis. And, madame, upon <i>his</i> side <i>he</i> does +not reverse the order of the story and of nature, and sink from the +Prince into the Beast. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="viii">THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE.</a></h2> + +<p> +The last time that the Easy Chair saw that remarkable man, Henry +Thoreau, he came quietly into Mr. Emerson's study to get a volume of +Pliny's letters. Expecting to see no one, and accustomed to attend +without distraction to the business in hand, he was as quietly going +out, when the host spoke to him, and without surprise, and with +unsmiling courtesy, Thoreau greeted his friends. He seated himself, +maintaining the same habitual erect posture, which made it seem +impossible that he could ever lounge or slouch, and that made +Hawthorne speak of him as "cast-iron," and immediately he began to +talk in the strain so familiar to his friends. It was a staccato style +of speech, every word coming separately and distinctly, as if +preserving the same cool isolation in the sentence that the speaker +did in society; but the words were singularly apt and choice, and +Thoreau had always something to say. His knowledge was original. He +was a Fine-ear and a Sharp-eye in the woods and fields; and he added +to his knowledge of nature the wisdom of the most ancient times and of +the best literature. His manner and matter both reproved trifling, but +in the most impersonal manner. It was like the reproof of Pan's +statue. There seemed never to be any loosening of the intellectual +tension, and a call from Thoreau in the highest sense "meant +business." +</p> + +<p> +On the morning of which we are speaking the talk fell upon the +Indians, with whom he had a profound sympathy, and of whose life and +ways and nature he apparently had an instinctive knowledge. In the +slightly contemptuous inference against civilization which his remarks +left, rather than in any positively scornful tone, there was something +which rather humorously suggested the man who spoke lightly of the +equator, but with the difference that there would have been if the +light speaking had left a horrible suspicion of that excellent circle. +For Thoreau so ingeniously traced our obligations to the aborigines +that the claims of civilization for what is really essential palpably +dwindled. He dropped all manner of curious and delightful information +as he went on, and it was sad to see in the hollow cheek and the +large, unnaturally lustrous eye the signs of the disease that very +soon removed him from among us. Those who remember him, and were +familiar with his truly heroic and virtuous life, or those who +perceive in his works that spirit of sweetness and content which made +him at the last say that he was as happy to be sick as to be well, +will apply to him the words of his own poem in the first number of the +<i>Dial</i>: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Say not that Caesar was victorious,<br> + With toil and strife who stormed the House of Fame;<br> + In other sense this youth was glorious,<br> + Himself a kingdom wheresoe'er he came." +</p> + +<p> +His talk of the Indians left an impression entirely unlike that of the +Cooper novel and the red man of the theatre. It was untouched by +romance or sentimentality. It made them a grave, manly race, +intimately familiar with nature, with a lofty scorn of feebleness. The +sylvan shade and the leafy realm and Arden and pastoral poetry were +wholly wanting in the picture he drew, quite as much as the theory +that they are vermin to be exterminated as fast as possible. He said +that the pioneers of civilization, as it is called, among the Indians +are purveyors of every kind of mischief. We graft the sound native +stock with a sour fruit, then denounce it bitterly and cut it down. +What was most admirable in Daniel Boone, he said, was his Indian +nature and sympathy; and the least admirable part was his hold, such +as it was, upon civilization. He seemed to imply that if Boone could +only have succeeded in becoming an Indian altogether, it would have +been a truly memorable triumph. Thoreau acknowledged that the Indian +was not only doomed, but, as he gravely said, damned, because his +enemies were his historians; and he could only say, "Ah, if we lions +had painted the picture!" +</p> + +<p> +The sylvan idea of Daniel Boone would probably have been very rudely +shattered could he have been actually seen; and Thoreau's Indian was +certainly not visible in the stories of men of his time who had passed +weeks among the Indians upon the plains. The pioneers, like Boone, are +not romantic; their life is a hard toil and struggle; they are +ignorant, rude, and even repulsive. This is natural, because their +real work is that of the subsoil plough and the harrow. They lay the +strong foundations. Without them, no soft waving field of golden +harvest, no velvet lawn, no Palladian villa, no flower of art and +culture--in a word, no progress, as we call it--however the shade of +Thoreau may implacably smile. So when the Lady Cavaliere whispered +from under her beaded veil, "Don't speak of it, but I am tired to +death of reformers," it was only the artist's impatience of the +ploughman; it was Rupert and his men not only sneering at Praise God +Bare-bones, and singing their mock prayer in the Lenten litany, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "That it may please thee to suppose<br> + Our actions are as good as those<br> + That gull the people through the nose," +</p> + +<p> +but heartily believing Cromwell and his men to be canting hypocrites. +</p> + +<p> +And yet the Lady Cavaliere is too well informed not to know that it +was not the silken chivalry who planted the king's standard and +defended it with all heroism, in whose praise the poets sang, who are +still the heroes of romance, and whose life had the charm of grace and +ease and accomplishment and <i>savoir faire</i>, that saved England and a +great deal more. The lady has sauntered through the palaces where the +Vandyck portrait of the king hangs upon the walls, the handsome, +melancholy Stuart. She looked at it secretly, perhaps, with something +of the same feeling that men think of the hapless Mary, as we call +her. What a gentleman! how refined! how sad! how agreeable to the +fancy! Yes, dear lady, and what a liar! how false-hearted! who would +have had his own foolish way whatever happened to other men! He would +have gratified your taste to the utmost; you would never have said +under your breath, "How I hate reformers!" he would have, perhaps, +carried your imagination and taste against your conscience and +judgment. And it is for that very reason--because taste and +imagination are so subtly seductive--that it is essential to challenge +them. St. Anthony did not mind the devil as a dragon; but the devil as +a siren--ah! how hard St. Anthony had to pray! +</p> + +<p> +Change is apt to present itself first in its unhandsome aspect. You +would much rather hear a lute in the moonlight upon the lawn, and +behold! a coarse plough and a frightful harrow. Yet, so lutes and +lawns begin. You like the smooth music of a silken court, the +picturesque ceremony, the poetic tradition, the perfume, the splendor, +and lo! a troop in jerkin pricking to the fray in horrible earnest, +and blood, and ghastly wounds, and torture, and merciful death! Yet, +so courts and ceremonies are instituted. One of the hardest battles +that reform has to fight is this battle in the air--so to speak: this +contest with taste and imagination that cling to the myriad-hued moss +and the delicate vine fringe upon the ogre's castle, and that find the +donjon so much more picturesque than the house. +</p> + +<p> +A cause is seen through its pioneers, and taste and imagination are +confused and confounded in the medium. A nature like Falkland's could +not see liberty clearly even through John Pym--how much less through +nasal psalm-singing butchers and brewers building a scaffold for the +king. So, in our own time, the great question that so sorely rent us +was seen by taste and imagination in the form of delicate, +highly-cultured women, of a superficial tranquil elegance of society, +of patriarchal tradition, of easy knowledge of the world, and the +smooth habit of society upon the one hand; and upon the other, often +in the form of a queer medley of grotesque people, each more +extravagant than the other, and uttering the wildest sentiments in the +most absurd rhetoric. The Lady Cavaliere has not forgotten that the +last retreat of the doomed system was the salon and the boudoir, where +taste is law, and where decorous immorality is not unwelcome. +</p> + +<p> +By-and-by, when the reform is established and has become traditional, +its pioneers become heroic and poetic. The Norman robber is then +discovered to be a kind of blue-blooded gentleman, or at least the +sturdy, aboriginal father of gentlemen. The rough and half-savage +Boone is the ideal frontiersman, with a smack of Arden and the sylvan +realm. And as for the coarse-toothed harrow--as my Lady Cavaliere sits +upon the porch and sees the peacock unfolding his glory upon the soft, +thick sward, do you see that my lady wears a delicate trinket around +her swan neck, and lo! it is a harrow exquisitely wrought in gold. +</p> + +<p> +The feeling with which she breathed through her beaded veil her +dislike of pioneer reformers is as old as human nature. But it was not +the sigh of wisdom, but of weariness, in my lady. There is a certain +insight even in gentle youth which does not recoil from the pioneer, +and foresees the soft sward springing under the harrow as it tears the +heavy clods. Those in whom youth abides never outgrow that precious +insight and foresight. One such, not less fair than my Lady Cavaliere, +of the most tranquil and undemonstrative behavior, has long been to +how many good causes one of the most valuable and efficient friends. +She has not cared that Daniel Boone should recede into poetic distance +before he seemed to her a hero. In his cabin as he smoked, in the hard +winter day as he felled the forest tree, in the rough, unhandsome +experience of every hour, he has been to her the forerunner of +refinement and plenty and ease. If taste and imagination shrink from +the squalor of the frontier, she remembers the greater squalor and the +darker tragedy of the city slum. If the long-haired, shambling, shrill +fanatic upon the platform be a contemptuous jest to my Lady Cavaliere, +this fairer lady remembers John clad in goat-skins and crying in the +wilderness. I wish, she says, that mankind might sit at a sumptuous +table, but I shall not scoff at the wooden spoon that feeds its +hunger. She hangs one picture upon her wall: it is Christ sitting at +meat with publicans and sinners. And so season after season, year +after year, she carries her sympathy, her hope, her steady faith to +all the pioneers. She is not a poet, but the world is to her +enchanted. Under the sharp voice of the reformer she hears the music +of the harmony which he discordantly foretells. With the distorted +eyes of the ill-disciplined, ignorant enthusiast she beholds the +symmetry of the future towards which he looks. In turn, the reformer +and the enthusiast behold in her and vaguely comprehend the outward +charm of beauty and grace and high condition which they blindly +announce. It is as if Daniel Boone, shaggy and savage, suddenly saw +his cabin and his rude clearing glorified: a stately, hospitable +mansion, overlooking a placid landscape of rounded groves and blooming +gardens and distant parks, murmuring with the song of birds and all +domestic sounds. Her service to a good cause is more than eloquence, +more than devotion--it is the perpetual presence of its ideal. +</p> + +<p> +There were plenty of Lords and Ladies Cavaliere who were tired to +death of that solemn enthusiast and bore, Columbus. But when he saw +the shore of San Salvador he must have recalled that he had long ago +seen it in the patient faith of any unknown friend who had always +hoped for him and believed with him. The Lady Cavaliere who thinks +Daniel Boone in early Kentucky, or Christopher Columbus pacing the +shore and ceaselessly looking westward, the most romantic of figures, +does not know that she sneered at both when she whispered, "I am tired +to death of reformers." +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="ix">HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS.</a></h2> + +<p> +A man who is easily discouraged, who is not willing to put the good +seed out of sight and wait for results, who desponds if he cannot +obtain everything at once, and who thinks the human race lost if he is +disappointed, will be very unhappy if he persists in taking a part in +politics. There is no sphere in which self-deception is easier. A man +with a restless personal ambition is very apt to believe his own +purposes to be public ends, and he finds his party to be recreant to +its principles if he fails to get what he wants. A young man comes +from college carefully trained, with the taste for politics which +belongs to the English race, and with the wish and hope to distinguish +himself and to serve his country. He attaches himself to a party, and +works for it in the usual way, waiting for his opportunity and his +distinction. Gradually the gratification of his ambition becomes his +test of the patriotic sincerity and wisdom of his party. He does not +think that it is so. He does not state it to himself in that bald way. +But he feels that he is the kind of man that his party ought to +promote, that he has the capacity and the desire to be of use, and +that if his party has not perceptions sharp enough to know its own +best men, nor the wish to distinguish them by calling them to office, +there is something deplorable in its condition. +</p> + +<p> +"I am afraid," said a gentleman of this kind to the Easy Chair, "that +my party is falling into bad hands. I see signs of corruption which +seem to me very disheartening." He shook his head forebodingly. This +gentleman did not conceal his opinion. He announced it freely, and the +rumor came to the ears of the real managers of the party. They put +their heads together, and presently the foreboding gentleman was +called to a public position. Again the Easy Chair met him, and he said +that the political prospect was very much more encouraging than he had +ever known it to be. There was a spirit abroad, he thought, which +would certainly lead to great results. Indeed, the clouds were gone, +and the sun shone brightly. +</p> + +<p> +At another time another gentleman shook his head in the same way. He +held a pleasant position, but he found that promotion was very slow, +and he began to despond and to think the times sadly demoralized, and +his party--at least he feared it--fatally mercenary. It was evidently +indifferent to reform, and seemed to care little for the wishes of the +people or the character of the country. He, too, shook his head with +profound distrust of the future; and the Easy Chair fell into deep +depression, and wondered whether, after all, a republican form of +government might not be a failure. Before it was possible to say so +conclusively, however, the Chair heard that his friend had decided to +seek reform and the welfare of the race "under the banner" of the +opposing party. And again, while considering whether all patriots +ought not to follow so eminent an example, it learned that the +desponding soul who had had the courage to face obloquy and change his +party relations had only done so after prolonged and fruitless efforts +to secure official place under his old party. Had he obtained it that +party would still have seemed to him resolute, patriotic, and +discerning, and he would have continued to serve his country in the +association to which he had become accustomed. +</p> + +<p> +There is no South American general who overthrows a government and +enthrones himself as dictator upon the ruins who does not announce +with imposing solemnity that the old system was intolerable, and that +the interests of humanity and the country required him to do as he had +done. Not one of them was ever known to declare that he had destroyed +the old government because he wished to be the government himself. The +two friends of the Easy Chair had sincerely sophisticated themselves, +and identified their personal advantage and wishes with the public +interest. If they had told the precise truth they would have said that +they wanted office, and if they could not get it from one party they +would try another. When a man is conscious of a strong desire and of +great ability to serve the public, this kind of sophistication is +easy. That which should make a generous man suspicious under such +circumstances is that he confounds official position with public +service. The latter, indeed, is in a sense a technical phrase; but a +man may equally serve the public unofficially by taking his part in +the necessary and disagreeable details of practical politics. If he +will not do this he must share the responsibility of bad government. +</p> + +<p> +Yet here, again, he must not be discouraged if his efforts appear to +be abortive and the results ridiculous. The secret of a republic seems +abstractly to be very simple, for it is merely that all good men shall +act together and elect good officers. But good men cannot act together +if they do not think together, and the best method of obtaining +results which all desire is the very problem of politics. All good men +cannot act together, therefore, because good men differ. But even the +good men who agree cannot easily and simply have their way, because +political measures can be secured only by organization, and the +organization, or the machine by which the result is to be attained, +may very readily fall into crafty or corrupt hands, which will use the +sincerity and pure purpose of better men to serve base and mercenary +ends. The first of the two friends of the Easy Chair was used in this +manner. He was sincere and pure, but he was vain, and therefore weak, +and the clever managers hit him in the heel. +</p> + +<p> +Again, a man may be wholly free of weakness or vanity, and, without +the least personal wish or ambition in public life, may take part in +politics solely from a commanding sense of duty, and yet find himself +and his efforts not only unavailing for his own purposes, but +ludicrously and hopelessly perverted to serve those of others. +Honestus was such a man: in the truest sense a patriot in feeling, yet +he confessed that he had hitherto neglected his political duties, but +declared that henceforth he would lose no opportunity of correcting +his conduct. He saw with joy the notice of an approaching primary +meeting, and when the evening arrived he hastened to the hall with the +pleasing consciousness that he was discharging a great public duty. He +reached the hall, and was heartily welcomed by the observant managers, +whom, had Titbottom's spectacles been at hand, he would have seen to +be foxes--at least. They were very glad indeed to see Honestus and men +like him engaging in politics. They saw in that fact the augury of a +better day. It was a peculiar pleasure to co-operate with him, and +they trusted that this was but the beginning of a good habit upon his +part. Honestus could not help thinking how easy it was to exaggerate, +and to suppose men to be a great deal worse than they are, and +wondered that he had never before taken the trouble--or, rather, +fulfilled the duty--of attending the primary meeting. +</p> + +<p> +The proceedings began, and he was exceedingly interested. Officers +were appointed, and it was evident from their speeches that nothing +but honesty and economy was to be sought, and only men of the most +spotless character nominated. But it was necessary to have a committee +upon nominations; and to his surprise and gratification Honestus heard +his own name mentioned as one of the committee, and almost blushed as +he was appointed its chairman. The committee was requested to +withdraw, and to report the names of candidates as soon as possible. +</p> + +<p> +Honestus and his colleagues therefore retired to a dim +passage-way--where, as he subsequently remarked, he should have been +rather alarmed to meet either of them at night and alone--and business +began. Various names were mentioned, of which, unfortunately, Honestus +had never heard one; and at length one of the most positive of the +committee said, emphatically, that, upon the whole, Sly was the very +man for the place. There was a general murmur of assent and +satisfaction. Honestus heard on every side that it was "just the +thing;" that Sly was "an A1 boy," and that he was "always there;" he +was also "square," and "right up to the line;" and by common consent +Sly seemed to be the Heaven-appointed candidate. +</p> + +<p> +Rather disturbed by his total ignorance of this conspicuous public +character, Honestus turned to his neighbor and said, guardedly, with +the air of a man who was musing upon Sly's qualifications, "Oh, +Sly--Sly?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said his neighbor, "Sly." +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly," replied Honestus; "certainly. But--who--is--Sly?" +</p> + +<p> +His neighbor looked at him for a moment, and repeated the question in +a tone of incredulity--"<i>Who is Sly?</i>"--as if he had said, Who is +George Washington? +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; I don't think that I know him." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't know Sly?" +</p> + +<p> +"No." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, if you did know him, you'd know that he's just the man we want; +bang up; made for it." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, is he?" +</p> + +<p> +"You bet--A1." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said the member who had first announced that Sly was the very +man for the place, "I suppose they'll be waiting. I nominate Sly as +the candidate." +</p> + +<p> +The chairman said yes, but that, unfortunately for himself, he did not +know Mr. Sly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you don't know anything against him, do you?" asked the other. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly not." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, we all know him, and he is the very man. We ought to hurry." +</p> + +<p> +Honestus put the question, and Sly was unanimously named as the +candidate to be reported to the meeting by the chairman. +</p> + +<p> +The meeting was already stamping and clapping and calling for the +committee, and the energetic mover of Sly said that it was necessary +to go in right away. The committee made for the hall, and the chairman +followed. He knew nothing of Sly nor of the people who had named him, +and he knew nobody else whom he could propose for the place. Honestus +felt very much as a leaf might feel upon the fall at Niagara, and in +the next moment the chairman of the meeting was asking him if the +committee were ready to report. The chairman of the committee bowed. +The chairman of the meeting said that the report would now be made. +Honestus stated that he was instructed to report the name of Sly. The +meeting roared. There was some thumping by the chairman, and Honestus +heard only the name of Sly and "by acclamation," and a whirlwind of +calls upon "Sly!" "Sly!" "Speech!" "Speech!" The next moment Sly, with +a large diamond pin, was upon the platform thanking and promising, and +the meeting was stormily cheering and adjourning <i>sine die</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Honestus walked quietly home, perceiving that the result of his +practical effort to discharge the primary duties of a citizen was that +Sly, one of the most disreputable and dishonest of public sharks, had +been nominated by a committee of which he was chairman, and that the +whole weight of the name of Honestus was thrown upon the side of +rascality with a diamond pin. And he reflected that in politics, as +elsewhere, it is necessary to begin as early in preparation for action +as the rascals. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he did not lose his faith, nor suppose that popular government is +a cheat and a snare, because he had been involuntarily made the +instrument of knaves. Honestus understands that good government is one +of the best things in the world, and he knows that good things of that +kind are not cheap. He is willing to pay the price, and the price is +the trouble to ascertain who Sly is, and the time to do his part in +defeating Sly. For Honestus knows that if he does not rule, Sly will. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="x">THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS, 1871.</a></h2> + +<p> +It was about fifteen years ago that Thalberg, who has just died only +fifty-nine years old, was in this country. Jenny Lind had been here +some years earlier, and Alboni and Grisi a little later, and +Vieuxtemps and Sivori and Ole Bull a dozen years before. Jullien, with +his monster orchestra, had given monstrous concerts in the monstrous +hall of Castle Garden, and many a musician of less fame had come to +try his fortune. But we had had neither of the acknowledged masters of +the piano, the founders of the modern school of playing--Liszt and +Thalberg. Liszt, spoiled and capricious, played very seldom. Chopin, +more a composer than a performer, we in America had never supposed +would cross the sea: so sensitive, so delicate, so shadowy, his life +seemed to exhale, a passionate sigh of music. In the stormy, +blood-soaked, ruined Paris of to-day it is not easy to imagine those +evenings at the Prince Czartoryski's, when Chopin played in the +moonlight the mazurkas and polonaises and waltzes which moonlight or +dreams seem often to have inspired, but through which the proud +movement of the old Polish dance and song triumphantly rings. +</p> + +<p> +In George Sand's <i>Letters of a Traveller</i> Chopin also appears, but +sadly and hopelessly. What Xavier de Maistre says of the Fornarina and +Raphael is the undertone of all the passages of the book that speak of +Chopin--"She loved her love more than her lover." Then came the burial +at the Madeleine, with his own funeral march beating time to his +grave. The mere pianist who had aroused the most enthusiasm in this +country was Leopold de Meyer, who came more than twenty years ago. His +was a blithe, exhilarating style. There was a grotesque little plaster +cast of him in the shop-windows at the time, representing him +crouching over the instrument, with enormous hands spread upon the +keyboard, and his fat knees crowding in to cover all the rest of the +space. It was slam-bang playing, but so skilful, and with such a +tickling melody, that it was irresistibly popular. His "Marche +Marocaine," a brilliant <i>tour de force</i>, was always sure to captivate +the audience; and his success was indisputable. +</p> + +<p> +De Meyer's concerts were sometimes given in the old Tabernacle in +Broadway, near Leonard Street, the circular church which for so many +years was the chief public hall in the city. The platform was almost +in the centre, and the aisles radiated from it. The galleries went +quite around the building, and, except for the huge columns which +supported a dome, it was convenient both for hearing and seeing. Here +were some of the great antislavery meetings in the hottest days of the +agitation. The anniversaries were held here, and it was the scene of +all popular lectures and of concerts. A few blocks above, upon +Broadway, near Canal Street, was the old Apollo Hall, where the first +Philharmonic concerts took place. In those early days of the German +music--days which followed the City Hotel epoch and the Garcia +opera--people were so unaccustomed to the proprieties of the +concert-room that the Easy Chair has even known some persons to +whisper and giggle during the performance of the finest symphonies of +Beethoven and Mozart, and so excessively rude as to rustle out of the +hall before the last piece was ended. +</p> + +<p> +Upon one such occasion it said to its neighbor, as they were coming +out: +</p> + +<p> +"It is a pity such ill-mannered people should thrust themselves among +ladies and gentlemen." +</p> + +<p> +"Ill-mannered!" quoth its neighbor; "I assure you they are carriage +company from the neighborhood of Union Square." +</p> + +<p> +In these days of universal respectful attention at the Philharmonic +concerts it is but a curious reminiscence of long-passed boorishness, +this of persons who whispered and giggled, and rustled out before the +end, at concerts, to the disturbance of all mannerly people. +</p> + +<p> +As the city grew the concerts came up-town, and were for some time +given at Niblo's concert-room. But, wherever they were, one person was +for many years constantly familiar, sometimes as general director, +sometimes as pianist to accompany singing, always modest, courteous, +and efficient, a man widely and most kindly remembered--Henry C. Timm. +Like most of our musical benefactors, he was a German, and gave +lessons in piano-playing. He was not one of the great virtuosos, but +his touch was delicate and nimble, and he had a sincere love of his +art. Often and often, at a house always pleasant from that +reminiscence, with the consent of parent and pupil, and to his own +great delight, the hour designed for the scholar's scales and +exercises was given to the master's playing. He was fond of Weber's +"Invitation to the Waltz," and he played it with force and precision +and the utmost delicacy. Mr. Timm had a pale, smooth, sharp face, a +rather prim manner, and a quick, modest gait. He was most +simple-hearted, and loved a joke; and his fun was all the more +effective from his very sober face and his lisp. It was his wife who +was long the most efficient actress at Mitchell's old Olympic in the +palmy days of burlesque. +</p> + +<p> +It was at Niblo's that Thalberg played. Many of the virtuosos had +been--like De Meyer--so extravagant in their action, and so evidently +what we now call "sensational," that there was great curiosity to see +the master whose name had been familiar since 1830, and famous since +1835, when he first played in Paris. The comparative estimate of the +two men, Liszt and Thalberg, was that the former was a player of +eccentric genius, the latter of consummate talent: a judgment which is +very apt to spring from a superficial theory that eccentricity is the +signet of genius. The long hair, the wild aspect of Paganini, did much +to confirm this feeling. +</p> + +<p> +At the concerts of Thalberg there were some preliminary performances, +and then a gentleman with side whiskers and no mustache, +unostentatiously dressed, entered upon the platform. His manner was +grave and tranquil, and he bowed respectfully as he seated himself at +the instrument. Immediately, without a flourish or grimace, steadily +and calmly watching the audience, he touched the piano, and it began +to sing. There was no pounding, no muscular contortion. Nothing but +his hands seemed to be engaged, and apparently without effort they +exhausted the whole force of the instrument. It was in every respect +except its great effectiveness the reverse of De Meyer's playing. The +effect, indeed, was astonishing. When the player arose, as quietly and +gravely as he had seated himself, there was a tumult of applause, to +which he bowed and tranquilly withdrew. +</p> + +<p> +The characteristic of his style is well known. It was a series of +harmonious combinations of all the resources of the key-board, through +which the melody was clearly articulated. It was by study and by long +practice only that he carried this method to its perfection. Thus in +one of his great fantasias, that from Mozart's "Don Giovanni," the +sentiment of the whole opera was reproduced. Perhaps you do not admire +brilliant variations upon a theme selected from the opera, but in this +performance you are affected by the passionate movement of the entire +work. It is a wonderful epitome. The same respect which he showed for +his audience and for himself, and which made him always a +self-possessed gentleman, he also had for his instrument. De Meyer +seemed to suppose that the full range and power of the piano could not +be developed except by grotesque methods. Other players treat it as if +impatient of its limitations, and resolved to make an orchestra of a +feeble key-board. But Thalberg instinctively apprehended the character +of the instrument, and respected its limitations as well as its +powers, and knew that its utmost resource was attainable by skilled +motion rather than by brute force. Therefore he played with his hands, +and not with his knees and his body. But the force of his fingers was +magical, and the volume of sound that followed was as great as any +player evoked. +</p> + +<p> +Thalberg was a player only, and not, in the sense of Chopin, a +composer. What are called his compositions are arrangements and +adaptations of themes from operas treated to develop them with all the +richness of the instrument. The originality is in the method of +instrumentation, and in this he was original, and is really the +founder of the present piano school. As a player his characteristic +was the cantabile--the singing quality; and this he had beyond all +players. The flowing sweetness of his style is indescribable. There +were many, indeed, who complained of a want of fire, and denied him +that passion without which no work of art is perfect. But it was +impossible to hear him play his fantasia from "Don Giovanni," for +instance, without perceiving all the passion of the original. Mozart +was not lost under his hands. And the impression of coldness was +largely due, doubtless, to the tranquillity and propriety of his +appearance and manner. +</p> + +<p> +The most generally popular of his successors at the piano in this +country was undoubtedly Gottschalk, who was here quite as early as +Thalberg, whose fame eclipsed all others. Upon his arrival Gottschalk +played privately at a small party. He was a foreign-looking youth, +with a peculiarly dull eye, and taciturn, but he was familiar with +every kind of music. When he was asked he played Chopin, and with +great skill. But his chief successes were his West Indian melodies, +which were full of picturesque suggestion. His execution was rapid, +brilliant, and forcible, but a great deal of his playing was too +evidently <i>tours de force</i>. It was always interesting to watch his +audience, when, upon being recalled, he began one of the West Indian +strains. There was a minor monotonous theme in them which fascinated +the listeners. They heard the beat of the tambourine, and saw the +movement of the dance, and with them all the characteristic scenery +and association of the tropics filled their imaginations. The languid +grace, the rich indolence, the gay profusion of the lands where the +banana grows, they felt and saw. +</p> + +<p> +How many admirable players and singers have come among us! And when, +as now, one drops through the bridge of Mirza, a host of Easy Chairs +pause for a moment to remember how many there were, and to delight in +thinking how many more there will be. Once it was the sailor who +crossed the sea to find El Dorado and Cathay, now it is the artist who +follows in the fascinating quest. But sailor and artist seeking gold +in far countries, like the pollen-powdered bee sucking honey in the +flowers, bring as rare a treasure as they find. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xi">URBS AND RUS.</a></h2> + +<p> +Mr. Tibs, who has an observing eye for many aspects of life, lately +informed the Easy Chair of his conclusion that there are some serious +objections to a suburban residence. This is a subject in which so many +intelligent and judicious readers of these pages are interested, that +the Easy Chair could not be indifferent to Mr. Tibs's conclusions. The +population which "sleeps out of town," which goes and comes daily to +and from the neighborhood of every great city in every part of the +country, is immense and increasing, and it has always rather an air of +lofty sympathy and pity for those who still cling to the "sweet +seclusion of streets." This is the more observable and amusing because +the denizens of town upon their part assume that their fellow-creatures +who resort to the country as a residence are mainly impelled by +motives of economy. For who would live out of town if he could live +comfortably in it? +</p> + +<p> +"You must find it very annoying to be tied to exact hours of trains +and boats," says Urbs to Rus, "and it is not the pleasantest thing in +the world to be obliged to pick your way through the river streets to +the ferry, or wait at stations. However, you probably calculated the +waste of time and the trouble before you decided to live in Frogtown." +</p> + +<p> +"Every choice has its inconveniences, undoubtedly," responds Rus, "but +I concluded that I preferred fresh air for my children to the +atmosphere of sewers and gas factories, and I have a prejudice for +breakfasting by sunlight rather than by gas. Then my wife enjoys the +singing of birds in the morning more than the cry of the milkman, and +the silence at night secures a sweeter sleep than the rattle of the +horse-cars. It is true that we have no brick block opposite, and no +windows of houses behind commanding our own. But to set off such +deprivations there are pleasant hills and wooded slopes and gardens. +They are not sidewalks, to be sure, but they satisfy us." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes; I see," says Urbs. "We are more to be pitied than I +thought. If we must go out in the evening, we don't have the advantage +of stumbling over hummocks and sinking in the mud or dust in the dark; +we can only go dry-shod upon clean flagging abundantly lighted. Then +we have nothing but Thomas's orchestra and the opera and the bright +little theatre to console us for the loss of the frog and tree-toad +concert and the tent-circus. Instead of plodding everywhere upon our +own feet, which is so pleasant after running round upon them all day +in town, we have nothing but cars and stages at hand to carry us to +our own doors. I see clearly there are great disadvantages in city +life. If a friend and his wife drop in suddenly in the evening or to +dine, it is monstrously inconvenient to have an oyster-shop round the +corner whence to improvise a supper or a dinner. It would be so much +better to have nothing but the village grocery a mile or two away. The +advantages are conspicuous. I wonder the entire population of the city +doesn't go out to live in Frogtown." +</p> + +<p> +Rus always feels in secret that he is at a disadvantage so long as he +must go to town every day to attend to his business. He reasons +plausibly that the train or the boat is no more than the horse-car, +and he proves conclusively that he can be at his office within half an +hour of his friend who lives in Fiftieth Street. But his friend +irritatingly replies that on pleasant mornings he prefers not to take +the car. He walks down in the bright air and through the busy street. +With twinkling and triumphant eyes he invites Rus to do the same. +</p> + +<p> +Rus gayly replies that the sun is quite as bright upon green fields as +upon brick blocks or stone flagging, and the shifting panorama from +the car window is a lovely picture. Urbs assents, and adds that the +dust and cinders also give great zest to the enjoyment, and that +dragging through tunnels is full of delight and beauty. +</p> + +<p> +But the real sorrow that Rus feels has not yet been touched. It is the +grief which Mr. Tibs has observed and confided to the Easy Chair. It +haunts his happy hours with sad foreboding. He cannot look from his +window but he sees it. He cannot celebrate the charms of country and +suburban life but it seems to mock him. It turns his joy to ashes. He +looks upon the wife of his bosom with anguish as he thinks of it. He +gazes ruefully into his children's eyes; pretty innocents, they know +naught of the impending blow. It is a Shadow, as Thackeray would have +solemnly said, with Bulwerian impressiveness, which Pursues Him at Mid +Day. It Awakens Him at Mid Night, and Says to Him, Sleep No More! What +is it, do you ask? inquires Mr. Tibs, in his most startling manner. +Brethren, 'tis the fell hand of improvement. That is it. It is that +which harrows the suburban soul and destroys suburban peace. No man +who lives in the neighborhood of the city, or in any little +settlement, community, hamlet, thorp, village, or town which is +occupied with people doing business in the city, but is exposed in his +rural retirement, in his suburban home, to the ravages of improvement. +</p> + +<p> +There are suburban neighborhoods of New York which are said to be +subject to malaria, to fever and ague. It is false, as every denizen +of Bay Ridge and Flushing knows. There are others which are alleged to +be a prey to mosquitoes and chills. 'Tis a base fabrication, as every +Staten Islander and dweller by the Newark marshes is ready to swear. +It is notorious, and is established upon the very best authority, +namely, that of the inhabitants of the districts themselves, that no +shores are so salubrious as those of the bay of New York. Strict +justice, indeed, demands--and to nothing so much as strict justice and +truthfulness in these matters are the peaceful people of those shores +devoted--strict justice and truth demand that it should not be denied +that single, exceptional, but upon the whole sufficiently well +attested cases of malarial trouble have been known. But they were +always brought from abroad, probably from that losel Yankee-land from +which most of the woe of New York has proceeded. While, therefore, it +is a wanton calumny--and the corroboration of all suburban +property-holders is invited to the statement--to assert that any +portion of the neighborhood of New York, or of any other great city, +let it be Philadelphia, Chicago, or St. Louis, Boston, Baltimore, or +Savannah, is subject to malaria, or is otherwise than the true +sanitarium of the continent, yet it must be owned with sorrow that +every suburban region is infested with the spirit of improvement. +</p> + +<p> +Edwin and Angelina were married yesterday, and will devote their +honey-moon to the quest of a place in which to build their permanent +nest. They find it at last in the most delightful of suburban +neighborhoods. They build the pretty cottage. They spread out smooth +green lawns, and plant trees and shrubs, and hide themselves in +flowers. They have made a sweet sylvan seclusion, in which they sit +and smile at the eloquence of Urbs, who pities their exile and depicts +the charm of streets. Streets are charming, respond Edwin and Angelina +in connubial chorus, but we will have none of them. Fond, foolish +pair! For even at that moment the desolating spirit of improvement is +staking out a street across their most emerald lawn and through their +most sacred grove; their trees and flowers and turf are doomed, and +their seclusion is to be turned into a dusty highway. +</p> + +<p> +Suburban improvement is the ruthless devastator of home. There is no +remedy. To oppose the ruin of the place which you have carefully made, +which has grown around you in increasing beauty with the growth and +development of your family, which is associated with all that is +happiest in your life, and which is in some sort the flowering and +expression of yourself, is to be derided as withstanding the public +benefit and the advantage of those less fortunate than yourself. The +instinct of protecting the home that you have made is denounced as +sentimental selfishness, and the law steps forward, cuts down your +trees, plows up your lawn, lays a gutter under your window, destroys +your home, and hands you some dollars for what it calls compensation, +or demands them for what it styles improvement. +</p> + +<p> +I am of opinion, therefore, says Mr. Tibs, and the Easy Chair commends +the reflection to those intending matrimony and thinking of a country +home, that there are some serious objections to a suburban residence. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xii">RIP VAN WINKLE.</a></h2> + +<p> +Going the other evening to see "Rip Van Winkle," the old question of +its moral naturally came up, and Portia warmly asserted that it was +shameful to bring young children to see a play in which the exquisite +skill of Jefferson threw a glamour upon the sorriest vice. +</p> + +<p> +"See," she said, "the earnest, tearful interest with which these boys +and girls near us hang upon the story. The charm to them of the scene +and of the acting is indescribable. Do you suppose they can escape the +effect? All their sympathy is kindled for the good-natured and +good-for-nothing reprobate, and when Gretchen turns him out into the +night and the storm, they cannot help feeling that it is she, not he, +who has ruined the home, and that the drunken vagabond, who has just +made his endearments the cover of deception, is really the victim of a +virago. And when he returns, old and decrepit, and, we might hope, +purged of that fatal appetite which has worked all the woe, it is his +old victim, the woman whose youth his evil habits ruined, and who, in +consequence of those habits was driven into the power of the +tormentor, Derrick von Beekman, who hands him 'the cup that shall be +death in tasting,' as if it were she, and not he, who had been +properly chastened and converted from the fatal error of supposing +that drunkenness is not a good thing. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no," said Portia, indignantly and eloquently, raising her voice +to that degree that the Easy Chair feared to hear the appalling "'sh! +'sh!" of the disturbed neighbors; "it is a grossly immoral spectacle, +and the subtler and more fascinating the genius of Mr. Jefferson in +the representation, the more deadly is the effect." +</p> + +<p> +The drop had just fallen, and the scene on the mountains was about to +open. The house had been darkened, and as the clear, quiet, unforced +tone of Rip, yielding, not remonstrating, to the doom that we all knew +and he did not, fell upon the hushed audience, the eyes of men and +women were full of tears; while the orchestra murmured, <i>mezzo voce</i>, +during the storm within and without the house, the tenderly pathetic +melody of the "Lorelei:" +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "I know not what it presages,<br> + This heart with sadness fraught;<br> + 'Tis a tale of the olden ages<br> + That will not from my thought." +</p> + +<p> +It was not easy to find in the emotion of that moment a response to +Portia's accusation of gross immorality. There was but a poetic figure +in the mind--the sweet-natured, weak-willed, simple-hearted vagabond +of the village and the mountain--touching the heart with pity, and, in +the drunken scene, with sorrow. This figure excludes all the rest. Its +symmetry and charm are the triumph of the play as acted. Now the +immorality can not lie in the kindly feeling for the tippling +vagabond, for that is natural and universal. Indeed, the same kind of +weakness that leads to a habit of tippling belongs often to the most +charming and attractive natures, and the representation of the fact +upon the stage is not in itself immoral. The immorality must be found, +if anywhere, as Portia insisted, in the charm with which vice is +invested. +</p> + +<p> +But is it so invested in this play? It used to be urged against +Bulwer's early novels that they made scoundrels fascinating, and that +boys after reading them would prefer rascals to honest men. If that +had been the fact, the novels would have been justly open to that +censure. But, tried by this standard, Rip Van Winkle, as Mr. Jefferson +plays it, is far from an immoral play. The picture as he paints it is +moral in the same sense that nature is moral. No man, shiftless, idle, +and drunken, afraid to go home, ashamed before his children, without +self-respect or the regard of others, however gentle and sweet, and +however much a favorite with the boys and girls and animals he may be, +is a man whose courses those boys will wish to imitate or who will +make vice more tasteful to them. The pathos of the second part of the +play, in which the change of age mingled with mystery is marvellously +portrayed, is largely due to the consciousness that this melancholy +end is all due to that woful beginning. The expulsion of Derrick and +his nephew is nothing, the happiness of Meenie and her lover is +nothing, the release of Gretchen is nothing, there is only a wasted +old man, without companions, the long prime of whose life has been +lost in unconsciousness, and who, suddenly awaking, looks at us +pitifully from the edge of the grave. +</p> + +<p> +By the most prosaic standards this should not seem to adorn vice with +attraction. It is true that the spectator is more interested in Rip +than in his wife, and that she is made a virago. But it is not his +drunkenness that charms, and her virtue is at least severe. Indeed, if +this performance is to be tried by this standard, the play must be +regarded as a temperance mission. For temperance is to be inculcated +upon the youthful spectators who sit near us not so much by stories +and pictures of the furious brute who drives wife and children from a +home made desolate by him, and who fly from him as from a demon, as by +this simple, faithful showing of the kind-hearted loiterer who makes +wretched a wife who yet loves him, and who denounces himself to the +child that he loves. This is the fair view of it as a picture of +ordinary human life. +</p> + +<p> +But, as we look, the low wail of the sad music is in our ears, the +scene changes to a weird world of faery, the story merges in a dream, +and Rip Van Winkle smiles at us from a realm beyond the diocese of +conscience. If conscience, indeed, will obtrude, conscience shall be +satisfied. It is a sermon if you will, but if you will, also, it is a +poem. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xiii">A CHINESE CRITIC.</a></h2> + +<p> +The Easy Chair was agreeably surprised the other day by a call from a +yellowish-visaged gentleman in a queue, who announced himself as of +the family of Lien Chi Altangi, a name which the reader will recall as +that of the Chinese philosopher and citizen of the world whose letters +of observation in England were edited by Dr. Goldsmith. After the +natural courtesies of such a meeting, and the Easy Chair's compliments +upon the shrewdness and charm of his distinguished ancestor's +observations, the Chinese gentleman fell into easy conversation, and +was congratulated upon his singular familiarity with our language. He +remarked that it was always an advantage to a traveller to know the +language of the country, and he had no doubt that so travelling a +people as the American were of the same opinion. "And as you travel +over the world more generally than any other people," he said, "I +presume that you are generally familiar with many languages." The Easy +Chair bowed, and cleared its throat, and smiled, and said, "Oh +yes--probably--undoubtedly." +</p> + +<p> +"Yours is a very great country," the visitor politely returned, "and +this city is indeed magnificent. It promises one day to rival Pekin, +at least in extent and population. The pleasure of seeing your great +men--the great men of so great a city, I mean--must be very unusual, +and I should be infinitely your debtor if you would accompany me to +your temple of civic greatness--your City Hall, as I understand you +call it. Your popular institutions, as we are told in China, are +intended to secure worthy governors of the people by the votes of the +people themselves. It is exceedingly interesting, and I am very +anxious to study the working of your institutions in your chief city." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair bowed and cleared its throat again, and answered that +the study of the city was certainly very interesting, but without +proffering to escort the travelling philosopher to the City Hall, it +contented itself with remarking that ours is a very great country, and +that its institutions are unequalled in the world. +</p> + +<p> +"I have met no American who is not of that opinion," courteously +returned the Chinese gentleman, "and I was pleased to see upon a visit +to your Washington and Fulton markets a noble illustration of the +generous and becoming manner in which such important parts of your +municipal institutions are managed." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair answered that it was not that kind of institution which +it had intended by its remark. +</p> + +<p> +"Possibly you allude to another great institution which I have +visited," returned the traveller, with exquisite courtesy. "You justly +pride yourself upon your advances in sanitary science, and I am a +devout pilgrim seeking enlightenment. Judge, then, with what pleasure +I saw your chief temple of the customs. What convenience and economy +of arrangement! How singularly fitted for its purpose! You are indeed +a great people. I passed into the main circular hall, and what purity +of atmosphere, what admirable ventilation, what refreshing coolness +and sweetness; it is, indeed, a sanitarium; nor can I wonder that you +are proud of your progress and achievements in this science. But when +I learned that the officers engaged in the public service in this +temple, in the business of various accounts, and in determining the +value of the products of the whole world, were appointed to the duty +because of their zeal in providing candidates for offices and +procuring votes for them, I was lost in admiration of institutions +under which zealous shouting and running are evidence of skill to +embroider muslin and to calculate interest. Truly you are a great +people, and your institutions overflow with wisdom." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair bowed and smiled, but the precise terms of an +appropriate reply did not suggest themselves, until, remembering what +was due to its native land, it began: "There can, however, illustrious +son of Lien Chi Altangi, be no doubt that we are a very great and +superior people, and that we have a very just pity and contempt for +all the unhappy victims of the effete despotisms and hoary empires of +the older world--not that we believe the other continents to be +actually older, for our own favored continent doubtless emerged first +from chaos, but it is an expression which, with the generosity of our +institutions, we are willing to tolerate." +</p> + +<p> +"I cannot deny your greatness," politely said the yellowish-visaged +gentleman, "and far be it from me to question your superiority. It was +but yesterday evening that I attended a social assembly which was +described to me as a full-undress party, and as I entered and beheld +many of the other sex, I was struck by the accuracy of the +description. As I promenaded through the brilliant throng with one of +the loveliest of your young persons of that sex, she said to me, with +a bewitching smile, 'Dear Mr. Altangi, is it true that Chinese women +squeeze their feet for beauty? How very funny!' +</p> + +<p> +"She panted as she spoke, and I saw that her body was evidently +incased in some kind of rigid and unyielding garment, and that her +waist was surely not the waist of nature. I gazed as intently as +decorum would permit--for I am but a student of cities and of men--and +I was sure that my lovely companion's body was more cruelly compressed +than the feet of my adorable countrywomen, and her panting breath was +but evidence of the justice of my observation. I asked her with +sympathy if I could not call some companion to relieve her, or, if the +case were urgent, whether I could not myself offer succor. But she +gazed at me as if I spoke a strange language, and smilingly asked my +meaning. +</p> + +<p> +"'Dear miss,' I said, 'are you not in great suffering?' 'Not at all,' +she replied, and I paid homage to her heroism. 'I know not, dear miss, +whether to admire more the greatness of your heroism or the generosity +of your sympathy. While you are in torment yourself, your tender +interest goes forth to my countrywomen in what you believe to be +torture. Be comforted, dear miss; the anguish of a squeezed foot is +not comparable to that of a waist so cruelly confined as yours, and +the consequences, also, are not to be compared.' If human bodies in +your great and happy country are made like ours in China, certainly, +Mr. Easy Chair, I must acknowledge that in heroic endurance of the +cruelty of fashion your country is indeed pre-eminent." +</p> + +<p> +There seemed to be such a singular misapprehension upon the part of +the courteous visitor that the Easy Chair was beginning again to +explain--"Yes, but the indisputable superiority of our glorious +country"--when the son of Altangi interrupted, with suavity: +"Certainly. I was about to add that while my fair companion insisted +that I should confess the pinching of the feet to be a heinous folly, +if not, as she was plainly disposed to believe, a crime, my eye was +arrested by another lightly and lowly draped figure of the same sex +advancing towards us with an uncertain, hobbling step so like the gait +of the lovely Chinese maidens of almond eyes that again I watched +intently, and I saw that not only was this sylph drawn out of all +natural form at the waist, but that she was attempting to walk in +little shoes supported upon high pivots called heels under the centre +of the feet. It was an ingenious combination of torture and +helplessness, to which no social circle in my native land offers a +parallel. It is a wonderful achievement, due, I have no doubt, Mr. +Easy Chair, to the manifest superiority of your great country, and +plainly a striking illustration of it. Yet it is interesting and +touching that the maidens of your politer circles, gasping in pinched +waists, and balancing and tottering on pivots under their shoes, +should inquire with so amused an air about the squeezed feet of +Chinese ladies. I pay you my compliments, Mr. Easy Chair, upon your +extraordinary country." The urbanity of the visitor was perfect. The +Easy Chair looked at his eyes to see if they twinkled, but they had +only a bland regard; and as it was beginning again--"Nevertheless, +sir, you will admit that the superiority of our institutions"--there +seemed to be so positive an approach to twinkling in the Chinese eyes +that the Easy Chair paused, smiled, and then said: "Worthy son of Lien +Chi Altangi, thy words enlighten the mind, even as those of thy +ancestor illuminated the minds of our fathers over the sea. By their +light I read the meaning of the saying that in my youth I heard in the +valleys of the Tyrol, 'Beyond the mountains there are men also.'" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xiv">HOLIDAY SAUNTERING.</a></h2> + +<p> +The richness and profusion and variety of the Christmas shops in a +great city, the sack of the treasures of the whole earth, which +furnish such splendid spoil, recall a remark of Buckle. He says that +the history of the world shows enormous progress in all kinds of +knowledge, in institutions, in commerce and manufactures, and in every +pursuit of human activity, but not in knowledge of moral principle. +The most ancient wisdom in morals is also the most modern. Time and +the progress of civilization have added nothing to the demands of the +conscience or to moral perception. The golden rule is an axiom of the +most ancient wisdom. +</p> + +<p> +These are bewildering speculations as we stroll along Fourteenth +Street and loiter in Twenty-third Street, which, at the holiday +season, have especially the aspect of a fair or a fascinating bazaar. +The whole world is tributary to Santa Claus. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Nothing we see but means our good,<br> + As our delight or as our treasure;<br> + The whole is either our cupboard of food<br> + Or cabinet of pleasure." +</p> + +<p> +Invention and science have put a girdle about the globe fitly to +decorate Christmas. Diedrich Knickerbocker, in his cocked hat and +flowered coat, had heard of Japan, perhaps, as a romance of Prester +John. But it would have been a wilder romance for him to imagine his +grandchildren dealing at the feast of St. Nicholas with Japanese +merchants in Japanese shops upon the soil of his own Manhattan and on +the very road to Tappan Zee. Hendrik Hudson might have been reasonably +expected to run down from the Catskills with a picked crew to vend +Hollands for the great feast. But Cipango--! +</p> + +<p> +Yes; we have subdued distance, we are plucking out even the heart of +Africa. As the streets of Bokhara when the fairs were held were piled +with the stuffs of many a province and thronged by merchants of every +hue, so the streets of New York at Christmas show that we have taken +the whole earth to drop into our Christmas stocking. The festival +might be fitly celebrated by coming to the city merely to walk the +streets and +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "view the manners of the town,<br> + Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings." +</p> + +<p> +Happily the eye can appropriate all the treasures that it would be +theft for the hand to touch. +</p> + +<p> +Corydon, sauntering with Amaryllis, and staring with her at the +wonderful windows, may be a prince by proxy. "Those pearls," he +whispers, "the diver plunged into Oman's dark waters to find for you. +They are so far on their way, adored Amaryllis. They have reached your +eyes, if not yet your ears. Let me but be rich--and I expect at least +five dollars for my first fee--let the world but discover that in me +the Law, whose seat is the bosom of God, has a new Mansfield, another +Marshall, and yonder pearls shall circle the virgin neck for which +they were predestined. Or do you prefer the diamonds behind the next +pane? Or shall Santa Claus sweetly capture both for you, one for state +dress and splendor, one for days less rigorous, not of purple velvets +and flowered brocades, but summer draperies of soft lace?" +</p> + +<p> +So the Marchioness and the gay Swiveller, with their happy gift of +transforming a shred of lemon-peel and copious libations of pure water +into nectar, might have walked the Christmas streets of New York as +those of Ormus and of Ind. Lafayette, with the gold snuff-box in which +the freedom of the city was presented to him, could not have been +freer of it. The happy loiterers could see all the beautiful things, +and what could they do more if they should buy them all? Like the kind +people at Newport in the summer, who spare no vast expense to build +noble houses and lay out exquisite grounds and drive in sumptuous +carriages and wear clothes so fine and take pains so costly and +elaborate to please the idle loiterer of a day, who gazes from the +street-car or the omnibus or the sidewalk, so the good holiday +merchants present the enchanting spectacle of their treasures freely +to every penniless saunterer, but for the same enjoyment they demand +of the rich an enormous price. The poor rich must bear also all the +responsibility of possession and care, and cannot be secured against +theft or loss. +</p> + +<p> +The splendid streets beguile us from our question. In the brilliant +bazaars we are recalling the New York of silence and solitary woods +and roving Indians--the New York that the Dutch settlers bought from +the Indians for twenty-four dollars, and which is now the city that we +behold, the metropolis of the State of which Mr. Draper, its +Superintendent of Public Instruction, asks, "Who shall say that these +six millions of people are not better housed, better fed, better +clothed, more generally educated, more active in affairs, better +equipped for self-government than any other entire people numbering +six millions, unless it be other citizens of our own country, +surrounded by the same circumstances and conditions?" Not the Easy +Chair, certainly. On the contrary, it says Amen. +</p> + +<p> +But is Buckle right? Are the six millions as much better morally than +the first six millions of their white ancestors upon the continent, as +they are better clothed, better educated, and better housed? Are they +only materially better? Have they better poets, better artists, than +the Greeks, than Dante, than Shakespeare, than Raphael and Michael +Angelo? Have they wiser men than Plato, Aristotle, Bacon? Have they +higher standards of conduct than those of Confucius and the Hindoos? A +hundred years ago the pilgrim was sometimes a week travelling to +Albany with great discomfort. To-day we travel thither in three hours +with incredible ease and luxury. Do we find more public virtue when we +get there? Comfort, knowledge, opportunity, resources, are multiplied +a thousandfold. Schools, libraries, museums, societies, appliances, +have sprung in a night, like Jack's bean-stalk, to a towering height. +Have they brought us nearer heaven? Are we more truthful, more +upright, manlier men? In a world where mechanical invention and +victories over time and space were of no importance, but where moral +qualities alone availed, should we men of the end of the nineteenth +century stand any better chance than those of the beginning of the +ninth? +</p> + +<p> +That is the queer question which Santa Claus insists upon dropping +into the stockings that hang by this Christmas hearth. He calls it a +Christmas nut to crack. The old fellow chuckles as he thinks of it +while he rides through the frosty starlight. "My children," he laughs, +"what is the difference between six dozen dozen and half a dozen +dozen?" While he asks and chuckles, the old fellow is himself an +answer. He did not invent gifts. But he symbolizes universal giving. +The moral law may be as old as man, but the demand and disposition for +the general application of that law to actual life increase with every +century. The moral law was the same when Howard revealed the horrors +of prisons that it is now when modern philanthropy has purged and +purified them. "The sense of duty," said Webster, in his greatest +criminal argument, "pursues us ever." But it pursues us more +effectively with the return of every Christmas. +</p> + +<p> +If there be no larger knowledge of the moral law there is a more +universal sense of moral obligation. Those pearls of Oman which +Corydon designs for Amaryllis would not have adorned so noble a woman +had they circled the neck of the Paphian Venus or Helen of Troy. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xv">WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD. 1881.</a></h2> + +<p> +The great Commencement event of the Summer was Wendell Phillips's +oration at the centennial anniversary of the venerable Phi Beta Kappa +at Cambridge. It was also the semi-centenary of the orator's +graduation at Harvard, and there was great anticipation, not only +because Mr. Phillips is now in many ways the first orator of his time, +but because his <i>alma mater</i> has not sympathized with his career. On +the day before, which was Commencement-day, there was general wonder +among the Harvard men of all years whether the orator would regard the +amenities of the occasion, and pour out his music and his wit upon +some purely literary theme, or seize his venerable mother by the hair, +and gracefully twist it out with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope," uneasily said a distinguished alumnus of Harvard to the Easy +Chair, "I hope he will not forget that he is a gentleman." +</p> + +<p> +"He has never yet forgotten it," replied the Easy Chair. +</p> + +<p> +The morning was beautiful--a sweet, fresh, brilliant June morning--and +there was a great assembly in the grounds of the university. The usual +Phi Beta Kappa attendance is not large. The celebration occurs on the +last day of prolonged college festivities, and the number of members +of the society is limited; nor, in fact, has it a real existence +except on the day of its oration and poem and dinner. This year, +however, the centenary of Harvard, from which all the other chapters, +except the parent chapter at William and Mary, have proceeded, had +drawn delegations from seventeen other colleges. The pink and blue +ribbon, which has replaced the square gold watch-key of other days, +fluttered at every button-hole, and with pealing music leading the +way, the long, long procession--a Phi Beta Kappa procession such as +perhaps Harvard never saw before--wound under the imposing buildings +towards the beautiful college hall, the Sanders Theatre. +</p> + +<p> +A great college day is always a feast of memory. As the music swelled +and the procession moved, the air was full of visions of forms long +vanished, of voices forever silent. To the Phi Beta Kappa memory in +Cambridge, however, three of the society's famous days returned. +First, that 26th of August, 1824, when Edward Everett delivered the +oration, which closed with the apostrophe to Lafayette, sitting upon +the platform in the old meetinghouse, which stood, we believe, where +Gore Hall now stands. It is the college tradition that the audience +rose in enthusiasm with the last words of the orator: "Welcome, thrice +welcome, to our shores, and whithersoever throughout the limits of the +continent your course shall take you, the ear that hears you shall +bless you, the eye that sees you shall bear witness to you, and every +tongue exclaim with heart-felt joy, Welcome, welcome, Lafayette!" and +that Lafayette himself, not clearly apprehending the drift of the +peroration, and swept on by sympathy, eagerly applauded with the +excited throng. Second, that 31st of August, 1837, when Ralph Waldo +Emerson read the remarkable discourse to whose calm, wise, and +thrilling words the hearts of men who were young then still vibrate, +and to which their lives have responded; and third, the day in 1836 +when Oliver Wendell Holmes read his poem, "A Metrical Essay," which is +the traditional Phi Beta Kappa poem, as Everett's and Emerson's are +the traditional orations. Richard H. Dana, Jr., calls Everett's +discourse the first of a kind of which since then there have been +brilliant illustrations, the rhetorical, literary, historical, and +political essay blended in one, and made captivating by every charm of +oratory. +</p> + +<p> +But the procession has reached the theatre, in which already there are +ladies seated, and in a few moments the building is filled with an +audience to which any orator would be proud to speak. There is music +as the audience rustles and murmurs into its place with eager +expectation. Then there is a prayer. Then Mr. Choate, the president of +the day, with his customary felicity and sparkling banter, speaks of +the origin of the ancient and mysterious brotherhood. "And now," he +says, in ending, "I introduce to you him who, whenever and wherever he +speaks, is the orator of the day." Mr. Phillips rises, and buttons his +frock-coat across his white waistcoat as he moves to the front of the +platform. Seen from the theatre, his hair is gray, and his face looks +older, but there is the same patrician air; and with the familiar +tranquillity and colloquial ease he begins to speak. +</p> + +<p> +He spoke perhaps for two hours, perhaps for half an hour. But there +was no sense of the lapse of time. His voice was somewhat less strong, +but it had all the old force and the old music. He was in constant +action, but never vehement, never declamatory in tone, walking often +to and fro, every gesture expressive, art perfectly concealing art. It +was all melody and grace and magic, all wit and paradox and power. The +apt quotation, the fine metaphor, the careful accumulation of +intensive epithet to point an audacious and startling assertion, the +pathos, the humor. But why try to describe beauty? It was consummate +art, and as noble a display of high oratory as any hearer or spectator +had known. +</p> + +<p> +It is usually thought that there must be a great occasion for great +oratory. Burke and Chatham upon the floor of Parliament plead for +America against coercion; Adams and Otis and Patrick Henry in vast +popular assemblies fire the colonial heart to resist aggression; +Webster lays the corner-stone on Bunker Hill, or in the Senate unmasks +secession in the guise of political abstraction; Everett must have the +living Lafayette by his side. But here is an orator without an +antagonist, with no measure to urge or oppose, whose simple theme upon +a literary occasion is the public duty of the scholar. Yet he touches +and stirs and inspires every listener; and as he quietly ends his +discourse with a stanza of Lowell's that he has quoted a hundred times +before, every hearer feels that it is a historic day, and that what he +has seen and heard will be one of the traditions of Harvard and of Phi +Beta Kappa. +</p> + +<p> +It does not follow, because the audience was charmed, and overflowed +with expressions of delight, that it therefore agreed. When an orator +calls the French Revolution "the greatest, the most un-mixed, the most +unstained and wholly perfect blessing Europe has had in modern times, +unless, perhaps, we may possibly except the Reformation," there will +be those who differ--who will grant the beneficent results of +revolutions, as of wild storms of nature, but who will hesitate to +call a movement of which the September days, the noyades, and the +bloody fury of a brutal mob were incidents, the most unmixed and the +most unstained of blessings. No American would lament the agitation +for emancipation, to which the life of the orator has been devoted. It +was a great blessing to the country and to humanity; but from the +blood of Lovejoy to that of the last victim of the war on either side, +it was not an unstained and unmixed blessing. There is, indeed, a +sense in which "to gar kings know" that they have a joint in their +necks may in itself be called an unstained political gain. But since +historically the lesson is taught only by the cruel suffering of the +innocent and the guilty together, it is, in fact, indelibly stained. +"Ah!" said the most benignant of men, "it was a delightful discourse, +but preposterous from beginning to end." +</p> + +<p> +Yet its central idea, that it is the duty of educated men actively to +lead the progress of their time, is incontestable. The orator, indeed, +virtually arraigned his <i>alma mater</i> for moral hesitation and +timidity. But a university lives in its children, and is judged by +them; and surely the history of civil and religious liberty in this +country from Samuel Adams, James Otis, and Joseph Warren down to +Channing and Parker, to Charles Sumner and Wendell Phillips, and the +brave boys of whom Memorial Hall is the monument, all of whom were +sons of Harvard, does not show that the old university has not +contributed her share of leadership. +</p> + +<p> +Such answers, striking and trenchant and admirable, were perhaps made +at the delightful dinner which followed the oration. Perhaps President +Eliot promptly took up and threw back with eloquent energy the gage +which had been thrown in the very face of the venerable mother by one +of her eminent children, so illustrating that ample resource and +sagacious firmness which have made his administration most efficient +and memorable. Perhaps Dr. Holmes, whose felicitous genius overflowing +in wit and music has long put the sparkling bead upon the Phi Beta +Kappa goblet, recited the lines whose response was the gay laughter +that rang through a pelting shower of rain far over the college +grounds. Perhaps as "Auld Lang Syne" was sung with locked hands at the +end of the dinner, if "Auld Lang Syne" is ever sung at Phi Beta Kappa +dinners, there was a general feeling that the day had been a +red-letter day for the university, and a white day in the recollection +of all who had heard one of the most charming discourses that were +ever delivered in the country, and had beheld a display of oratorical +art which in this time, at least, cannot be surpassed. +</p> + +<p> +But of all this nothing can ever be known, because the feasts of Phi +Beta Kappa are sealed with secrecy. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xvi">EASTER BONNETS.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is not a great many years ago that, among Protestants in this +country, Easter was mainly the festival of one denomination, and even +within that denomination it was celebrated with comparatively little +pomp. But now it is universal, especially in the larger towns and +cities, and many churches decorate themselves with flowers, and +observe with annually accumulating splendor the great feast of the +immortal hope. The churches are filled with people. The music is +elaborate, and it is elaborately advertised during the preceding week, +and, by one of those odd coincidences which associate the most diverse +things, it is on Easter-Day that the new spring bonnets of the ladies +appear, and there is a delightful mingling of most diverse interests. +</p> + +<p> +"I have observed," said an elderly gentleman, as he watched from the +window of his club the pretty procession of new clothes winding +churchward on Easter morning, "that some ladies of high fashion dress +more and more elaborately as they advance in years, and as the sweet +light of youth fades from their eyes it is replaced by a greater blaze +of diamonds upon their persons." +</p> + +<p> +It was the venerable Ambassador from Sennaar who spoke, and who was +smiling pleasantly upon the cheerful scene. +</p> + +<p> +"For myself," he continued, "I can recall nothing more enchanting in +human form than the granddaughter of my old friend whom I went to see +some years ago in Newport, and who bounded in at the open window from +the garden on a perfect June morning--herself incarnate June--clad in +a white muslin dress, her hair simply knotted behind, holding a rose +in her hand, and with the loveliest rose in her cheeks. That young +woman, a girl not yet twenty, now has girls of her own more than +twenty. I wonder if she wears a very elaborate bonnet this Easter +morning, and whether her dress is a mass of pleats and puffs and +marvellous trimmings, which, when profusely extravagant upon the form +of an elder woman, always remind me of signals of distress hung out +upon a craft that is drifting far away from the enchanted isles of +youth. Is it the instinctive effort to prolong the brilliancy of youth +that induces the advancing woman to decorate herself so brightly? Is +it the involuntary hope that she will really seem to be buoyant and +gay of heart if only her dress be gay? As they go trooping by I mark +that richly caparisoned dowager, and I recall the days when I was +merely an attache of the embassy, and when in the modest parlor in +Bond Street she sang: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "'I wadna walk in silk attire,<br> + Nor siller hae to spare,<br> + Gin I must from my true love part,<br> + Nor think on Donald mair." +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman from Sennaar is always permitted to have his own +way, and he prattles on without interruption. If you don't care to +listen, it is always easy to withdraw, and to look out at another +window, and to make your own comments instead of heeding his. +</p> + +<p> +"But that was not exactly what I had in mind as I watched this pretty +Easter procession," resumed the venerable Ambassador; "but the truth +is that when I see a crowd of brightly dressed women, my mind +scatters, as it were, and I am very apt not to hit my mark." +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman smiled again. "All the fine spring bonnets of +Easter-Sunday do not prove the youth of every face under them, and I +wonder whether this splendid celebration of Easter means that you are +a more religious people than in the plainer Easter days that I +remember. Is the sincerity of religious feeling always in proportion +to the magnificence of the ritual? If it be, you have become a deeply +religious people, especially in your great city. We used to think at +the legation in Rome that the people of that city were in danger of +mistaking a punctual observance of religious ceremonies for religion. +But you are so intelligent that you are, of course, in no such danger. +I accept these beautiful flowers and this pretty procession of new +bonnets as the proof of your religious progress." +</p> + +<p> +The Ambassador paused reflectively a moment, and then continued: "You +send a great many missionaries to India and elsewhere. Is it because +you have no work for them at home? In my country, my benighted and +heathen Sennaar, we have a proverb that an ounce of practice is worth +a pound of profession. In Rome, I say, we used to fear lest the +people, with crossings and dippings and genuflections and repetitions +of a long series of invocations and confessions and penance and many +ceremonies, might come to confound these things with religion. But I +suppose that this blossoming Easter, this solemn abstention from 'the +German' in Lent, and this interest in draperies and postures, mean +that you devote the same energy and time and care to studying how to +help the helpless, how to console the suffering, how to teach poverty +to hope and labor for its own relief. It means that the richly attired +Christians who are walking in the most fashionable spring bonnets to +church on Easter-Sunday have learned who is their neighbor, and what +their duty is towards him, and are diligently doing it." +</p> + +<p> +The Ambassador removed his eyeglasses, and turned to smile blandly +upon the group of club-men near him. +</p> + +<p> +"This reflection," he continued, "makes me very happy, and fills me +with reverence for a Christian people. For if you built superb +churches in one street, and tolerated heathen squalor of soul and body +in the next street, you would crucify Christianity. No, no: these +sweet flowers of Easter are not symbols of your words, but of your +work; not of your professions, but of your practice." +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman resumed his glasses, and looked silently at the +thronged street. How comfortable to believe with our venerable friend, +and to perceive that the great increase in the beauty of the Easter +commemoration is the fitting symbol of the corresponding increase in +our religious faith and practice! +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xvii">JENNY LIND.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is many years ago that the Easy Chair, making the grand tour, was +in Dresden, and saw in the newspaper that Jenny Lind, then in the +first fulness of her fame, would sing for four nights in Berlin. It +was in the autumn, and loitering along the Elbe and through the Saxon +Switzerland was a very fascinating prospect. But the chance of hearing +the Swedish Nightingale was more alluring than the Bastei and the +lovely view from Konigstein, and at once the order of travel was +interrupted, and the Easy Chair arrived eagerly in Berlin. +</p> + +<p> +The Berlin of those days was still a city in which the student could +live economically, and hear the lectures of great teachers upon the +most reasonable terms. But the sole interest of the moment was the +Northern singer, and upon reaching the hotel and making prompt +inquiry, the Easy Chair learned that chairs for the Lind +representations could be secured only at prices which were wholly +unprecedented in the staid Hohenzollern capital. The exigency of the +case, however, compelled the payment, and the Easy Chair devoted +eighteen thaler, or nearly as many American dollars, to obtaining a +seat to hear Jenny Lind for the first time. Never for such a sum was +bought so rich a treasure of delightful and unfading recollections, +always cheering and inspiring--an unwasting music which has murmured +and echoed through a life. +</p> + +<p> +The scene was the Royal Opera-house. The audience was the finest +society of the court; and even then the musical taste of Berlin, as if +forecasting Wagner, used to sneer loftily at that of Vienna, where +Flotow was about to produce "Martha," as a taste for <i>tanzmusik</i>. The +opera was the "Sonnambula," and after the pretty opening choruses and +dances, Amina came tripping to the front through the clustering +villagers. +</p> + +<p> +She was an ideal peasant maiden, blooming and blithe and fair, of an +indefinable simplicity and purity; the genuine peasant of the poetic +world, not a fine lady of Marie Antoinette's Petit Trianon playing at +rustic artlessness. The voice and the singing were but the natural +expression of that charming maidenhood. The full volume, the touching +sweetness of tone, the exquisite warble, the amazing skill and the +marvellous execution, with the perfect ease and repose of consummate +art, and the essential womanliness of the whole impression, were +indisputable and supreme. To a person sensitive to music and of a +certain ardor of temperament there could be no higher pleasure of the +kind. Every such person who heard Jenny Lind in her prime, from 1847 +to 1852, whether in opera or concert, can recall no greater delight +and satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +Other famous singers charmed that happy time. But Jenny Lind, +rivalling their art, went beyond them all in touching the heart with +her personality. Certainly no public singer was ever more invested +with a halo of domestic purity. When she stood with her hands quietly +crossed before her and tranquilly sang "I know that my Redeemer +liveth," the lofty fervor of the tone, the rapt exaltation of the +woman, with the splendor of the vocalization, made the hearing an +event, and left a memory as of a sublime religious function. This +explains Jenny Lind's peculiar hold upon the mass of her audiences in +this country, who were honest, sober, industrious, moral American men +and women, to most of whom the opera was virtually an unknown, if not +a forbidden, delight. Malibran had sung here in the freshness of her +voice and charm; Caradori-Allan, Cinti-Damoreau, Alboni, Parepa, and +other delightful singers followed her. Grisi came, too, but in her +decline. Still others have ruled their hour. But in the general memory +of the country Jenny Lind remains unequalled. There was the +unquestionable quality in her song which made Mendelssohn say that +such a musical genius appears but once in a century. +</p> + +<p> +It was a pleasant little New York to which she came, but it thought +itself a very important city. Fanny Ellsler had bewitched the town a +few years before; and some graybeards and baldheads, now tottering in +the sun upon Broadway, but then the golden youth of Manhattan, took +the horses from the Bayadere's carriage and drew her in triumph to her +hotel. Ole Bull, also, had come conquering out of the North like a +young Viking, charming and subduing, and Vieuxtemps came also, +disputing the palm. The town took sides. The virtuosi applauded +Vieuxtemps as a true artist, and shrugged at Ole Bull as an eccentric +player. If you whispered "Paganini?" they silently shrugged the more. +Still the young Viking fascinated young and old. He played like the +Pied Piper, and the entranced country danced after. But when Jenny +Lind came, the welcome to the singer as yet unheard was more +prodigious than that offered to any other European visitor except +Dickens. It was managed, of course, by Barnum. It was advertising. But +that was only until she sang. After that first evening at Castle +Garden the delight advertised itself. +</p> + +<p> +In this day, Wagner <i>consule</i>, of the eclipse of Italian opera, the +programme of a Lind concert will perhaps win a glance of curiosity +even from the lovers of "Tristan und Isolde," who follow with +reverence in the parquette the mighty score of the trilogy upon the +stage. Here, for instance, is the programme of a charitable concert of +Jenny Lind's in Boston on Thursday evening, the both of October, 1850, +just a month after her first concert in the country at Castle Garden +in New York on the 11th of September. The programme is a pamphlet +opening with four marvellous wood-cut likenesses of Jenny Lind, Jules +Benedict, her conductor; Signor Belletti, the barytone, and Mr. +Barnum. The words or each song in the original and in translation are +printed upon separate pages, and the whole concludes with sketches of +the lives of Jenny Lind, Signer Benedict, Signor Belletti--and Mr. +Barnum. The selection of music comprises Beethoven's overture to +"Egmont;" an air from the "Elijah," first time in America, sung by +Jenny Lind; "Non piu andrai," from Mozart's "Nozze di Figaro," by +Signor Belletti; piano solo, Mendelssohn's "Songs without Words," by +Signor Benedict; and, for the first time in America also, "Und ob die +Wolke," from "Der Freischutz," by Jenny Lind. This was the first part. +The second part began with Reissiger's overture, "Die Felsenmuhle;" +Signor Belletti then sang the "Piff Paff," from Meyerbeer's +"Huguenots;" Jenny Lind followed with the "Come per me sereno," from +the "Sonnambula," for the first time in America; then Belletti with +the "Miei rampolli," from Rossini's "Cenerentola;" and the concert +ended with the "Dalecarlian Melody" and the "Mountaineer's Song," both +for the first time, by Jenny Lind. +</p> + +<p> +It would be still possible even for the devoutest Wagnerian disciple +to hear such a concert, perhaps, without leaving the hall in +indignation, perhaps even without a protest. All the concerts were of +uniform excellence, and the Easy Chair is a competent witness, at +least so far as attendance is concerned, for it heard all of the Lind +concerts in New York except the first. During the second season an +unknown name appeared one evening upon the bill, which announced that +Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, a young and unknown pianist, would play for the +first time in this country. Tripler Hall, opposite Bond Street upon +Broadway, was crowded as usual, and when Jenny Lind had withdrawn +after singing one of her "numbers," a slight, dark-haired youth came +upon the stage and seated himself at the piano. He was courteously +greeted, and just as he was about to begin, the door opened quietly at +the back of the stage, and Jenny Lind stood in full view of the +audience tranquilly to listen. At a happy point in the performance she +clapped heartily, and the whole house, following its lovely leader, +burst into a storm of applause. The young man bowed to the audience +and to "Miss Lind," and, as he ended, with more hand-clapping and a +bright and kindly smile Jenny Lind vanished, having secured the +success of Mr. Otto Goldschmidt. It was a pretty scene. Perhaps the +<i>prima donna assoluta</i> recalled the famous brava-a-a-a of Lablache on +her first evening at her Majesty's Opera-house in London, which +satisfied England that she was a great singer, and confirmed her +career. To the audience her friendly interest seemed the impulse of +her kindly heart for a young neophyte in this profession. To Mr. Otto +Goldschmidt--! +</p> + +<p> +Ole Bull returned to the country before Jenny Lind left it, and one +evening, when she was staying at the Stevens House, in Broadway by the +Bowling Green, she gave a dinner, and Ole Bull was among the guests. +After dinner he seated himself at the piano, and running over the +keys, struck into some wild minor chords, and began to sing Norwegian +songs. They were of a singular melancholy, but very beautiful, and the +company listened intently. Jenny Lind especially sat rapt in the +music, until, after one of the songs, she rose quietly, and moving +steadily across the floor as if carrying a jar of water upon her head +and fearing to spill a drop, she pushed Ole Bull from his chair, and +seating herself in his place at the piano, reproduced the entire song +with exquisite pathos. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, it was in these characteristic Northern songs, full of strange +and romantic tenderness, and suggestive of solitary seas and wide, +lonely horizons, of awful mountain heights and secluded valleys of +sober and sequestered life, that her voice seemed most extraordinary +and her skill most marvellous. Romantic singing, picturesque, +mournful, weird, could go no further. She was the spirit of the North +singing its hymn, and the audience sat enchanted under the melodious +spell. A veteran, as he recalls those days, might well suspect that he +is still enthralled by the magician's wand of youth, and that it is +not fact, but only its rosy exaggeration, which he describes. But the +contemporary records of that astonishing career remain, and they +confirm his story. The prices paid for tickets, the enormous receipts, +and the generous gifts in charity of Jenny Lind are not fables. Yet +the glamour of youth has its part in all recollection of the days of +splendor in the flower. Once when the Easy Chair was extolling the +melodious Swede to a senior, the hearer listened patiently, with a +remote look in his eyes, and replied at last, musingly, "Yes, but you +should have heard Malibran." +</p> + +<p> +The series of American concerts which began on the 11th of September, +1850, at Castle Garden ended at the same place on the 24th of May, +1852. The vast space was not well suited for singing, but the +magnificent voice filled it completely, and in the fascinated silence +of the immense throng every exquisite note of the singer was heard. +She sang with evident feeling, and with responsive tenderness the +audience listened. Every time that she appeared she carried a fresh +bouquet, the sight of which gladdened some ardent young heart. But +when at last she came forward to sing the farewell to America, for +which Goldschmidt had composed the music, she bore in her hand a +bouquet of white rose-buds, with a Maltese cross of deep carnations in +the centre. This she held while for the last time in public she sang +in America; and the young traveller who, five years before, had turned +aside at Dresden to hear Jenny Lind in Berlin, alone in all that great +audience at Castle Garden knew who had sent those flowers. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xviii">THE TOWN.</a></h2> + +<p> +In the city that we like to call the metropolis, the newspapers enable +us to begin every day with the knowledge that yesterday Mr. and Mrs. +A. entertained at dinner Messieurs and Mesdames B., C., D., E., F., +G., H., I., and J. And why is this precious knowledge imparted to us? +Why are we not also taught what else they did during the day? Why do +we learn nothing of Mr. and Mrs. Y. and Z., at the other end of the +alphabet, in Baxter Street? For these good folks who are mentioned are +in no way distinguished except for riches. If, indeed, they had done +or said or written anything memorable, if they had painted fine +pictures, or carved statues of mark, or designed noble buildings, or +composed beautiful music; if they had effected humane reforms, had +happily cheered or refined or enriched human life, or in any way had +made the world better and men and women happier, the curiosity to hear +of them, and to see them, and to read of their daily course of life, +would be as intelligible as the pleasure in seeing the birthplace of +Burns, or walking in Anne Hathaway's garden, or hearing of Abraham +Lincoln, or seeing Washington's bedstead and sitting in his chair. +</p> + +<p> +But to read day after day in the paper, this golden domesday-book, the +lists of rich people who ate terrapin together, or danced together in +lace frills and white cravats afterwards, and to read it with avidity, +is what might be done in some world of satire. But in a hard-working, +sensible, Yankee world! You might say that nobody does read it, but +the column of the newspaper which is devoted to this narrative, +contrasted with the few paragraphs in which the important news from +all parts of the globe is discussed, refutes you. The newspaper +understands itself. It is a shrewd merchant who supplies the demand in +the market. +</p> + +<p> +But is there no other than a humiliating explanation of the fact? Is +it only snobbishness, a mean admiration of mean things? Are we all +essentially lackeys who love to wear a livery? Or is it not +rather--all this interest in the small performances of those who, if +distinguished for nothing else, are the distinguished favorites of +fortune--the result of the ceaseless aspiration for a better +condition, and the instinct of the imagination to decorate our lives +with the vision of a fairer circumstance than our own, and to revenge +the tyranny of fate by the hope of heaven? If the fine Titania could +sing to Bottom, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Mine ear is much enamored of thy note,<br> + ...<br> + Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful," +</p> + +<p> +why should not our liberal fancy sing the same song to the Four +Hundred? They may be deftly enchanted to our eyes if to no others, and +to our view our Bottom also be translated. +</p> + +<p> +It is not what they are, but what we believe them to be, of which we +read in the newspaper. The poor sewing-girl, as she stitches her life +away "in poverty, hunger, and dirt," seeing unconsciously the fairy +texture and costly delicacy of the robe she fashions, follows it in +fancy to the form which is to wear it, and which to that fancy must +needs be that of a most lovely and most gracious woman, because none +other would that soft splendor of raiment befit. The lofty and +benignant lady must needs also mate with her kind, and move only among +those "learn'd and fair and good as she." All the circumstance of life +must conform, and amid light and perfume and music the unspeakable +hours of such women, such men, glide by.--The girl's head droops. For +one brief moment she dreams, and that charmed life is real. +</p> + +<p> +In a less degree, in our prosaic and plodding daily routine, we invest +the life of the favorites of fortune with an ideal charm. It is, to +our fond fancy, all that it might be. Those figures are not what +Circe's wand might disclose. They are gods and goddesses feasting, and +in happier moments we feign ourselves possible Ixions to be admitted +to the celestial banquet. In the streets of the summer city their +palaces are closed, their brilliant equipages are gone; they do not +sparkle and murmur in their opera boxes, nor roll stately in slow +lines along the trimmed avenues of the Park. But still the celestial +life proceeds, a little out of sight, its lovely leisure brimmed with +deeds becoming those who have no care but to do good and to +transfigure their own fair fortune into a blessing for the world. We +read the gross details of dress and dinner. But they remind us only +more keenly of the ample resource, the boundless opportunity which our +favorites of fortune enjoy. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, Orestes, we ponder the society column not because we are snobs, +but because our imaginations take fire; the dry narrowness and hard +conditions of our lives are soothed as we contemplate those who have +no excuse not to be benefactors; and what they should be, our +imaginations, benevolent to ourselves, assure us that they are. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xix">SARAH SHAW RUSSELL.</a></h2> + +<p> +There died lately a woman not known to the public, but whose loss to +those who personally knew her can never be made good. The summer that +shall come may bring as of old roses and violets, but the summer that +is gone will never return. In the memory of all of us there are +persons who seem to have revealed to us the best that we know and are; +they are so lofty that we are raised, so noble that we are ennobled; +so pure that we are purified. They are generally women whose lives are +noiseless, who live at home, wives and mothers, without the ambition +that spurs men to strive for renown, but their days are full of such +richness of beautiful life that its fitting image is that finest +flower of tropical luxuriance, the magnificent Victoria Regia. +</p> + +<p> +A nature so modest and simple, and a life so private that it seems +almost a wrong to speak of them publicly, yet a character so firm and +tranquil and self-possessed that if necessary it would have met +without doubt or hesitation any form of martyrdom, can hardly be +described without apparent exaggeration. She was born, in our familiar +phrase, a lady, and from the beginning, throughout a long life, she +was surrounded with perfect ease of circumstance. She was singularly +beautiful in her youth, and to the close of her life she had the charm +of personal loveliness. Her manner was direct and frank and cheerful, +and with her perfect candor and vigorous good-sense it scattered the +trivial and smirking artificialities of social intercourse as a clear +wind from the north-west cools and refreshes the sultry languors of +August. Early married to a man of the highest character and aims, and +of that practical good-sense which makes ability most effective, she +was in entire sympathy with his wise and humane interests, and thus in +her family she was most fortunate and happy. +</p> + +<p> +Yet by beauty, wealth, position, and the natural possession of the +prizes for which life is generally a struggle, she was wholly +unspoiled. Her views of duty and of just human relations were so clear +and true that she reinvigorated the conscience of all who knew her. +She was curiously free from the little weaknesses which we +instinctively excuse in ourselves and others, and although her +absolute truthfulness necessarily but involuntarily rebuked us all, we +could no more be angry than with our own consciences. The reproach was +entirely involuntary. Never was a woman more tenderly tolerant of +every honest difference, or more careful not to wound either by look +or word or tone. Too true herself to suspect falsity in others, she +was much too sensible to assume the part of Mentor. +</p> + +<p> +In the great mental and moral activity of her generation she was +instinctively liberal, and never questioned in others the complete +soul-liberty, as Roger Williams called it, which she calmly and +naturally maintained for herself. No reform could conceal from her its +essential value as a high aspiration, a good impulse, if nothing more; +and however grotesque and extravagant the reformer, she pierced his +mask of eccentricity and welcomed the earnest seeker, bewildered and +blinded though he might be. She judged speech and action by a +remarkable intuition of right and wrong, and it was interesting to see +how surely and smoothly she cut sophistry straight through to the +truth which it muffled and distorted. Men and women she valued solely +for their intrinsic worth, and never by conventional standards. A +fugitive slave and the Prince of Wales would have been treated by her +in a way which would have assured them both that the different +circumstances of their condition did not obscure their equal humanity. +</p> + +<p> +To say this must not leave the impression that she was other than a +lady of the simplest, most refined, and most unobtrusive but cordial +manner. There must be no vision of a Lady Bountiful, or of a Lady of +the Manor, or of any self-conscious personage whatever. But a stronger +influence upon the lives with which she was brought in contact cannot +well be conceived, nor the perennial hope and encouragement which her +cheerful presence inspired. Domestic sorrows touched that strong and +noble heart not to any vehement demonstration, but to a deeper faith +and a sober serenity, which interpreted the poet's sense of "the still +sad music of humanity." Courage, confidence, cheerfulness--these were +the good angels that dwelt with her, and through her they breathed +their benediction on all whom she loved or who personally knew her. As +she lived in communion with great thoughts and the widest human +sympathies, so that her life, like our stillest, harvest-ripening +days, passed in sunny repose, so the end was peace. With no wasting +malady, no long decay of faculty, she tranquilly slept. +</p> + +<p> +There is nothing that poets feign of women that was not justified by +her. In thinking of her lofty life there is no need of excuse or +allowance; for human nature, as it was never more unassuming or +simple, was never greater and lovelier than in her. Beautiful and wise +and brave and gentle and good, the thought of her is perpetual +blessing. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xx">STREET MUSIC.</a></h2> + +<p> +A man grinding a hand-organ in the street is doubtless a sturdy beggar +soliciting alms. A band of men blowing simultaneously into brass +instruments, with a brazen pretence of making music, is probably like +steam-whistles and church-bells and the cries of newspaper extras and +of itinerant peddlers of many wares--a noisy nuisance. Yet the old +cries of London, although doubtless strident and disturbing, have a +certain romantic charm of association and tradition. Like the Tower +and Billingsgate and Wapping Old Stairs, they were parts of very +London, and London was less London when they ceased. +</p> + +<p> +Were those old cries of the story-book, like the interpreted voices of +the church-bells-- +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Kettles and pans,<br> + Says the bell of St. Ann's;<br> + Apples and lemons,<br> + Says the bell of St. Clement's,"-- +</p> + +<p> +altogether shameless and exasperating noises? Were they not the same +voices that called Whittington to turn again? Was not the deep bay of +St. Paul's heard when Nelson, the old sea-dog, died? Could the music +of the bells be spared from the story of London more than that of the +cries? Is the milkman who announces the arrival of the morning's milk +with a "barbaric yawp," like that in which Mr. Whitman is supposed to +celebrate his own personality, a sturdy beggar? He would certainly +resent the imputation. He is a merchant who sells a desirable +commodity. Shall he be adjudged a nuisance? +</p> + +<p> +But Signor Raffaello da Perugia, who produces opera airs upon a +portable organ, with Don Whiskerando, who mounts with agility to the +parlor window to receive the consideration in his feathered cap, is he +not also a merchant who sells music to you in selected varieties, the +latest popular songs and tunes of the theatre, the waltz of last +year's ball-room? Must he be accounted a sturdy beggar because you +happen not to be in immediate want of his wares? Or the band of which +we were speaking, which arrives at the hour when the master of the +house returns from his office, and performs a serenade of welcome as +he greets the circle from which he has been absent since breakfast, +shall it be denied the pleasure of heightening the pleasure of others? +Are not the taxes of these Jem Baggses, these wandering minstrels, the +"only rates uninvidious in the levy, ungrudged in the assessment?" +</p> + +<p> +Where the intent is so unequivocally kindly, is it not gross and +unfeeling to suggest in the modest orchestra a questionable chord, a +cracked reed, a cornet out of tune? Why so insistent, so scrupulously +exigent? Are you never out of tune, good sir? Your chords, say in the +domestic concert, are they always finely harmonious, and your own reed +never cracked? Why so eager to cast the first stone? Yonder trombone +may have its weaknesses--who of us, pray, is without? Has tolerance +gone out with astrology? "He had his faults," said the Reverend Bland +Sudds yesterday in a funeral discourse upon the Honorable Richard +Turpin--"he had his faults, yes, for he was human." But if a man may +falter, shall we not forgive to a trombone even a half-note? If Turpin +may be respectfully lamented with indulgent hope, shall a hesitating +horn be doomed to "the all-sweeping besom of societarian reformation?" +</p> + +<p> +While Eugenio was making the grand tour he loitered in Venice and +lingered in Naples, wandering to Paestum, feasting in the orange +groves of Sorrento, and penetrating the Blue Grotto at Capri. In +Venice the songs of the country, in Naples the barcarolles, made his +memory as he came away a thicket of singing-birds. Those ever-renewed +snatches and remembered refrains of songs, Venetian and Neapolitan, +like a sponge passed over a Giorgione, brought out the mellow richness +of Italy, and as he paced Broadway and hummed a tender melody, he +walked where Vittoria Colonna had trod, and heard the faint beat of +oars upon moonlit Como. One morning, hard at work in his chamber, +where only the confused roar of the city was audible, a strain rose +high and clear above it all, with a soft, pathetic, penetrating +urgency, "So' marinaro di questa marina," and, all else forgotten, he +was once more rocking on Italian waters, and the red-capped +fisher-boys filled the air with song. +</p> + +<p> +He ran down, and into the street, and around the block, and, lo! +Signor Raffaello was the fond magician. He was turning the crank of +his heavy organ, and Don Whiskerando, feathered cap in hand, was +climbing the balcony of the drawing-room windows, and Signor Raffaello +was raising his eyes towards the upper windows to see if haply some +child or nurse attended. Eugenio dropped more than a penny into the +ready hand of the signore, and was gone before the swarthy magician +could make out his benefactor. Eugenio gained his room, and with +sympathetic intelligence the signore, playing out the College +Hornpipe, once more touched the stop of "So' marinaro," and renewed +the happy spell. +</p> + +<p> +It is not fine music, that of the hand-organ and the street bands; it +is indeed too oft a cracked and spavined pleasure. Doubtless it is +justly classified as one of the street noises, and street noises are +probably nuisances to be abated. But strolling in the eastern quarters +of the city, beyond the domain of the Academy and the Metropolitan +Opera-house and the halls of Steinway and Chickering, have you never +seen an eager and ragged little rabble happily watching Don +Whiskerando, while their elders are plainly pleased for a moment with +that tuneful noise? The fruit is not wholly sound, but it is far from +rotten. The music is poor, but the pleasure is unquestionable. +Possibly the "Gotterdammerung," and even Siegfried's "Tod," would pass +these people unmarked, like the wind. They cannot hold those mighty +measures. But they are receptive of these little tunes. In a life of +not much enjoyment this brings them some pleasure. Shall it be stopped +altogether? It is the business of these peddlers of tunes to wander. +They will move on if you do not want them. But must they also move +away from those who do want them? +</p> + +<p> +If there be too much noise in the streets, might not some other form +of noise have been first silenced than that of the street musicians? +There are the factory whistles and the church-bells. For the necessity +of the first something may be said. But the heavy clangor of the bells +is doubtless more than a discomfort to many, and it is wholly useless, +while the music of the organs and the bands is a pleasure. Do the +Aldermen, like Homer, sometimes nod? Sometimes, for an inadvertent +hour, do the finer instincts of public spirit flag in those civic +bosoms? What evil genius, hostile to the enjoyment of the people, +persuaded them? Did the city fathers for one ill-starred moment forget +their Tacitus, and silence the street music unmindful of those words, +so familiar to them in their hours of classic relaxation--<i>Solitudinem +faciunt, pacem appellant</i>? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxi">A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY.</a></h2> + +<p> +Mr. Lester Wallack in his reminiscences speaks of Thackeray, whom he +knew in New York, and recalls with admiration his simple and hearty +ways. Wallack says that as he returned from acting at his father's +theatre, then at the corner of Broadway and Broome Street, to his +lodgings in Houston Street, he used to pass Thackeray's quarters, who +was living with the late William D. Robinson in Houston Street, and if +he saw a light in the window he went in, and the gentlemen finished +the night together. He says that Thackeray had a boy's enjoyment of +the stories that the late-comer told, and although the guest does not +say it, the reader easily imagines that had he been in Thackeray's +place he would have shared Thackeray's pleasure in the gayeties of his +guest. Thackeray had the tastes of the town, and Charles Marlowe and +My Awful Dad were sure to bring their own welcome. +</p> + +<p> +Wallack also alludes to a dinner which Thackeray gave at the old +Delmonico's, at the corner of Broadway and Chambers Street, at the end +of his first visit to this country. He had been most warmly received, +and he had given universal delight by his lectures upon the English +Humorists. The charm of these lectures is evident in the reading, but +the pleasure of hearing them is quite indescribable. They were +delivered in Dr. Chapin's old church, upon the east side of Broadway +just below Prince Street, to an exceedingly intelligent and +sympathetic audience, who knew their enjoyment to be the highest kind +of literary pleasure. The thorough appreciation of the men whom he +described, the sweet and sinewy simplicity of his English, of which he +was a twin master with Hawthorne, the constant play of his kindly +humor, and manly pathos and sympathy, with his rich voice and massive, +magnetic presence, his melodious and refined inflection in speaking, +and his quiet, easy, colloquial manner, thrusting thumbs and +forefingers in his waistcoat-pockets--all these, pleasing to the mind +and sense, made him the pleasantest of lecturers, and still enchant +the memory of those +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "happy evenings all too swiftly sped." +</p> + +<p> +Just before he sailed upon his return to England he gave the dinner at +Delmonico's of which Wallack speaks, to repay many civilities, and +assembled a miscellaneous party of twenty or thirty guests. They were +men of various distinction, "everybody being somebody," as one of the +guests remarked while he glanced around the table. Thackeray was in +high spirits, and when the cigars were lighted he said that there +should be no speech-making, but that everybody, according to the old +rule of festivity, should sing a song or tell a story. Lester +Wallack's father, James Wallack, was one of the guests, and with a +kind of shyness, which was unexpected but very agreeable in a veteran +actor, he pleaded earnestly that he could not sing and knew no story. +But with friendly persistence, which yet was not immoderate, Thackeray +declared that no excuse could be allowed, because it would be a +manifest injustice to every other modest man at table, and put a +summary end to the hilarity. It was to be a general sacrifice, a +round-table of magnanimity. "Now, Wallack," he continued, "we all know +you to be a truthful man. You can, of course, since you say so, +neither sing a song nor tell a story. But I tell you what you can do, +and what every soul at this table knows you can do better than any +living man--you can give us the great scene from the 'Rent Day.'" +</p> + +<p> +There was a burst of enthusiastic agreement, and old Wallack, smiling +and yielding, still sitting at the table in his evening dress, +proceeded in a most effective and touching recitation from one of his +most famous parts. It was curious to observe from the moment he began +how completely independent of all accessories the accomplished actor +was, and how perfectly he filled the part as if he had been in full +action upon the stage. It is only this effect that the Easy Chair +recalls, but it was not to be forgotten. No enjoyment of it was +greater, and no applause sincerer than those of Thackeray, who +presently sang his "Little Billee" with infinite gusto. The song and +story went round, as Lester Wallack records, but the by-play of the +dinner, which is often the best part of such a banquet, was different +for each of the guests. The Easy Chair recalls one incident which was +a striking illustration of the masterly and phenomenal assurance of a +well-known figure in the Bohemian circles of New York at that time, +but whom it must veil under the name of Uncle Ulysses. +</p> + +<p> +By the side of the Chair sat a poet, whom also it must protect by the +name of Candide, for a simpler and sincerer literary man never lived. +It was in the time, as Thackeray was fond of saying, <i>Planco Consule</i>, +which in this instance means in the time of the old <i>Putnam's Monthly +Magazine</i>. The number for the month had been just published, and +Candide had contributed to it his "Hesperides," a charming poem, +although the reader will not find that title in his works. He and the +Easy Chair were speaking of the magazine, when Uncle Ulysses, who had +never met Candide, and knew him only by name, dropped into the chair +beyond him, and at a convenient moment made some pleasant remark to +the Easy Chair across Candide, who sat placidly smoking. "By-the-bye," +said Uncle Ulysses presently, "what a good number of <i>Putnam</i> it is +this month! But, my dear Easy Chair, can you tell me why it is that +all our young American poets write nothing but Longfellow and water? +Here in this month's <i>Putnam</i> there is a very pretty poem called +'Hesperides.' Very pretty, but nothing but diluted Longfellow." +</p> + +<p> +This was said to the Easy Chair most unsuspiciously across the author +of the poem, and the moment it was uttered, the Easy Chair, to prevent +any further disaster, broke in and said, "Yes, it is a delightful +poem, written by our friend Candide, who sits beside you. Pray let me +introduce you. Mr. Candide, this is Uncle Ulysses." +</p> + +<p> +Candide turned, evidently swelling with anger, and the Easy Chair was +extremely uncertain of the event, when Uncle Ulysses, with exquisite +urbanity and a look of surprise and pleasure, held out his hand, and +said: "Mr. Candide, this is a pleasure which I have long anticipated. +I am very much honored in making your acquaintance, and I was just +speaking to the Easy Chair of your delightful poem just published in +<i>Putnam</i>. I congratulate you with all my heart." +</p> + +<p> +Candide, astonished but perplexed, and yielding to the perfect +<i>bonhomie</i> of Uncle Ulysses, half involuntarily put out his hand, +which our uncle shook warmly, and in five minutes his fascinating +tongue had charmed Candide so completely that the Easy Chair is +confident that the good poet always supposed that in some +extraordinary manner he had misunderstood Uncle Ulysses's remark +touching the imitative tendency of young American poets. +</p> + +<p> +So one reminiscence produces an ever-widening ripple of reminiscences. +Those which circle about the recollection of Thackeray in this country +are very many, but generally unrecorded. They linger, and appear +occasionally in allusions like those of Lester Wallack. But whenever +they are told they pay homage to the humorist. They recall his +constant, sturdy, kindly simplicity and kindliness. Wallack speaks of +a certain boyish or boy-like quality in Thackeray. It was certainly +there. He had the utmost sympathy with boys, and one of his gay +caricatures of himself represents him at a Christmas pantomime +standing with two boys behind the rest of the audience, he towering +aloft and seeing everything over other people's heads, while his poor +little comrades, far down about his knees, ruefully see nothing. But +you know that if no other seat could be found, the good giant would +soon have them upon his shoulders, and all would be boyishly happy +together. "They think I am a grinning surgeon with a scalpel," said +the tender-hearted man. But those who have not found and felt the +heart are yet to learn to know Thackeray. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxii">CECILIA PLAYING.</a></h2> + +<p> +As the great musical artists, especially the pianists, arrive one +after the other, and lead the town captive, one asks, not whether +there be any limit to the number, but to the skill. Last year there +was the prodigy, the phenomenon, the boy Hofmann, and all the +superlatives were spent in his praise. This year it is Rosenthal--valley +of roses--and sweet as their attar is his spell. "Well, what is he?" +"Simply miraculous; never was there anything like him." "But +Rubinstein?" "Yes, a great genius, but he himself said that at every +concert he dropped notes enough to furnish two concerts." "Then it is +skill only, <i>technique</i>?" "Not at all; it is perfection of feeling, +conception, touch, everything. Perhaps not the greatest of composers. +But for playing--ah!" +</p> + +<p> +Rapture is one kind of criticism. Perhaps in music, the effect of +which is emotional, rapture, if you know the person, is the best +criticism. The artist who can kindle to the utmost enthusiasm of +delight a musically sensitive person who is also an exquisitely +skilful player, and whom mere marvels of execution do not affect +beyond reason, may be accepted as a very remarkable artist. +Temperament also counts for much in estimating musicians. Natures are +sympathetic. A silent, separate chord vibrates in response to a thrill +of sound which leaves other things unmoved. The heart of the young man +speaks to the psalmist, but the old man's may be dull and unawakened. +The homoeopathic formula, like cures like, may be adapted to musical +criticism at least so far as to say that like touches like. +</p> + +<p> +When Cecilia says that she has been enchanted by the playing of any +artist, the quality of her feeling and expression justly interprets +the character of his performance. When Jenny Lind first sang in +America one of the most accomplished critics said that he must wait a +little to decide whether she was a great singer. That critic could +never really hear her. Another said that she was a consummate +ventriloquist. He meant that in the Herdsman's Song and the other +Volkslieder and native melodies there was an effect of vocalism which +seemed to him a trick. But to others it suggested wide, solitary +horizons, the sadness and seclusion of remote Northern life. Mere +imagination, retorted the critics. Yes, but to what does art, +especially musical art, appeal? Rubinstein, as he said of himself, +dropped notes without number under the piano. Thalberg did not, nor +Henri Herz. But they dropped something which Rubinstein did not. The +sunshine of a December day in this latitude is often cloudless and +beautiful. But it unfolds no rose and restores no leaf to the bare +bough. +</p> + +<p> +A sweet and true, a full-volumed and thoroughly trained voice, is a +rare gift to any man. But without a certain quality in the singer it +is a perfect fruit without flavor. The singing that haunts us, which +becomes part of our life, which fills the memory with tender and happy +images of other days and scenes, is not necessarily that of the finest +voices, but of that mingling in music of voice and skill and feeling +which weave an enchanted spell. Those who have known the troubadour +Riccardo have doubtless heard what are called greater voices, artists +who hold for a triumphant moment the hazardous peak of the high C, +whose roulades and phrasing are exquisite and admirable. But the +singer whom they wish to hear, whose singing is a part of life, like +the beauty of flowers and the dawn, is the singing of the troubadour +Riccardo. It is so with Cecilia's playing, and it is impossible to +suppose a person sensitive to music who could escape its spell. +</p> + +<p> +When she sits at the piano and touches the keys, they respond, as one +whom she fascinated said, with such smooth sweetness that you think +there is conscious pleasure to them in that pressure. It is apparently +as gentle, he insisted, as that of the breeze upon the grass which +lightly sways beneath it. The impression upon this sensitive youth was +a test of the character of her playing. If he had said she sings with +her fingers he would have said what he doubtless thought, and what is +true. She plays German songs--some of the familiar songs in the +collections, or something of Lassen's or Weit's, or Abt's, or one of a +thousand other songs, and the playing is like exquisite singing. It +fills the mind with pictures, with persons, with scenes, and with that +unspeakable content which only such music can give to the lovers of +music. "What on earth is it all about?" said the Senator at the +Symphony Concert, "and why do people come here?" The Hottentot would +have asked the same question if he had heard the Senator upon the +stump. +</p> + +<p> +If the fairy godmother who presides over the cradle should give the +newcomer the choice of gifts, what gift more precious could the young +stranger ask than the power of giving a pleasure so pure as that which +Cecilia's playing imparts? It is one of her praises that if the choice +had been given to her she would instantly have selected the very power +which the good fairy bestowed. For in giving the pleasure she does +only what she delights to do and would have chosen to do. One +philosopher, speaking to the Easy Chair of another, whose serenity was +as undisturbed by events as the firmament by clouds, said of himself +that he subdued more devils before breakfast every day than his serene +brother had encountered in his whole life. Yet the serene brother's +lofty repose was not less admirable because it was a quality of +temperament, and not a triumph of the will; and it is not less the +merit of Cecilia that the happiness she diffuses is as involuntary as +the fragrance of the sweetbrier. +</p> + +<p> +What is done without effort seems not to have been taught, and it is +not easy to fancy Cecilia drudging at exercises and laboring at +scales. Canaries, indeed, are trained to sing, and even young birds to +fly. Yet the training is but showing them how to give themselves free +play. To express entire facility we say that an act is done as +naturally as a bird sings. Not less naturally does Cecilia play. You +listen, and the song which you knew seems to sing itself, but +enveloped with a richness and fulness of flowing accompaniment which +is like the harping of aerial choirs. Then with others she plays the +great music, concerted Bach or Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann, or Wagner, +Weber or Mendelssohn; now an old gavotte, now a quaint fantasia, and +why not a toccata of Galuppi Baldassero? It is more than a hint or a +reminiscence, although it is not an orchestra. But when those fingers +kindred with Cecilia's sweep the keys together, the listener wonders +whether the hearer of the full orchestra has caught from it the subtle +and exquisite significance of the strain which has poured from those +enchanted pianos. +</p> + +<p> +The piano is called an inadequate instrument. Perhaps it is, until you +hear Cecilia play. Then by some secret sympathy you find yourself +murmuring, "Not so sweetly sang Plumer as thou sangest, mild, +childlike, pastoral M----; a flute's breathing less divinely +whispering than thy Arcadian melodies when, in tones worthy of Arden, +thou didst chant that song sung by Amiens to the banished Duke, which +proclaims the winter wind more lenient than for a man to be +ungrateful!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxiii">THE MANNERLESS SEX.</a></h2> + +<p> +To be told that the lily is not the flower of vestals, but of Venus, +could not be more surprising than to be assured that the mannerless +sex is not that of the troubadour Rudel, but of the Lady of Tripoli, +to whom he sang. Such a suggestion is, of course, but a merry fancy. +Could any critic, however inclined to misogyny, seriously allege +ill-manners against the sex of Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother? Yet +this is precisely what has been recently done. +</p> + +<p> +One censor enumerates and catalogues and classifies the sins against +good manners of which the sex is guilty. He presents a philosophical +analysis of the recondite forms of feminine discourtesy. It is the +ancient sage again pitilessly exposing the Lamia. It is Circe +out-Circed. He details the degrees of offence--in young women, in +women who are no longer classed as girls, in nearly all women, in +women with the fewest social duties. Then the boundless Sahara of +ill-manners opening before him, and with a certain zest of unsparing +scrutiny, he treats of the behavior of women in the horse-cars, at the +railway station buying tickets, at the post-office, where the rule is +imperative, first come first served, but where this chief of sinners +presses for a reversal of the beneficent rule of equality in her +favor. +</p> + +<p> +Still more flagrant aspects of misconduct rise upon the censor's view +of the sex. The shameful or shocking treatment by woman of those whom +she holds to be her inferiors cries to Heaven. Her heartless detention +of railway porters staggering under their burdens, her browbeating of +"tradespeople," cause this observer of fine susceptibilities and an +acute sense of the becoming to lament the desuetude of the +ducking-stool. The more general outrage, however, apparently common to +the sex from Helen of Troy to Florence Nightingale, is, according to +our censor, the spite of women towards each other, which mounts into +an ecstasy of rudeness when "woman goes a-shopping." +</p> + +<p> +But our Cato the elder does not permit man truculently to exalt +himself by contrast with discourteous woman. He expressly disclaims +the declaration of the implication that man is mannerly, while woman +is not. In many men he remarks indifference to rudimentary courtesies, +and in many women a gentle regard for others which deserves even +eulogy. The sum of the whole matter, nevertheless, is that the average +woman is more neglectful of common courtesy than the average man. +</p> + +<p> +"And no wonder," exclaims Cato the younger, "for the foolish fondness +of man teaches her discourtesy." If man, instead of giving her his +seat in the railway car, and slavishly removing his hat in the +elevator, and acquiescing in her tyrannical hat at the theatre, +insisted upon his legal rights in a bargain, and required the railroad +company to furnish without evasion the commodity of seats for which it +has been paid, or if he brought the manager to task for allowing one +of his customers to steal what he has sold to another--namely, a view +of the play--the world would tremble on the edge of the millennium of +good manners. +</p> + +<p> +This terrible arraignment is a comprehensive accusation of selfishness +against the sex. But it seems to be a generalization founded on a +local and restricted observation. It is true of the woman of many +artists and critics. The women of Du Maurier, for instance, belong to +"a set," but they are not representatives of a sex. Becky Sharp is no +more a typical woman than Amelia, or Scott's Rebecca. Major Dobbin is +as much a type of men as Lord Steyne. Should our social censor +sequester himself for a time in any remote rural community, it would +hardly occur to him to signalize the sex of the rural wives and +mothers as the selfish sex. And in town, although there are a few +fleeting hours of flattered youth in which the beautiful and fortunate +Helen may tread on air and breathe adulation until she feels herself a +goddess, yet a newer and younger Helen is always gently pushing her +from the throne. Of all seasons that of blossoms is the briefest, and +the maturer Helen, of whom the sex is composed, is not wayward and +selfish, is no longer "uncertain, coy, and hard to please," but +patient, self-sacrificing, and true. +</p> + +<p> +Man was self-convicted from the beginning. Could there be more +ineffable selfishness than Adam's plea in the garden? "The woman whom +thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree and I did eat." Had +Eve been of no finer stuff than he, she would have left him there. But +his craven answer at once revealed the essential weakness that +demanded the devoted stay of unselfish constancy. Were woman the +ever-selfish, Eve would have abandoned Adam to himself while she +tripped to solitary pastures new. But the same quality that sustains +the secluded farmer and his household in the hills supported the timid +tiller of the first garden as the sword flamed behind him over the +closing gate of Eden. If Adam plained that Eve had lost him Paradise, +does not every son of Adam own that she has regained it for him? +</p> + +<p> +The watchful traveller in city cars, or wherever his fate may guide, +is not struck by the discourtesy of the gentler sex. The observable +phenomenon in city transit is the resolute, aggressive, conscious +selfishness of man hiding behind a newspaper, with an air of +unconsciousness designed to deceive, or brazening it out with an +uneasy aspect of defending his rights. This is the spectacle, and not +a supercilious assumption on the part of the shop-girl. Her courteous +refusal to take a seat, or courteous acceptance of it, is more +familiar than the courteous proffer. +</p> + +<p> +Cato the younger suggests that it is a wrong that seats should not be +provided, and holds that the company should be compelled to furnish +the accommodation for which it is paid. It is a Daniel come to +judgment, but how shall it be done? Shall men keep their seats until, +by sheer shame, and in deference to indignant public protest, the +company does its duty? But would the shame and indignation be due to +the consciousness that the accommodation paid for was not provided? +Would they not arise rather from the consciousness of the peculiar +wrong that the gentler sex should be so incommoded? And, if so, while +the incommodation lasts, what but the selfishness of men devolves it +upon women! But if men should agree to surrender their seats that +women should be first accommodated, is there any doubt that the wrong +would be speedily righted? And to what would this be due but to the +fact that the selfishness of men would insist upon the comfort of +which, while the incommodation lasts, they deprive women? +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, if all men in crowded cars should resolutely keep all women +standing, the wrong would not be righted, because women would submit +with unselfish patience, and because corporations have no souls. The +better plan, therefore, is that all men shall refuse to see a woman +stand, because if men are really discomforted by their own courtesy +they will compel redress. +</p> + +<p> +In a world turned topsy-turvy, where Cordelia and Isabella and Juliet +were mannerless, the other sex might be eulogized by distinction as +mannerly. But in this world is the gentle Bayard as truly the type of +the average man as Jeanie Deans of the average woman? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxiv">ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is more than forty years since Margaret Fuller first gave +distinction to the literary notices and reviews of the New York +<i>Tribune</i>. Miss Fuller was a woman of extraordinary scholarly +attainments and intellectual independence, the friend of Emerson and +of the "transcendental" leaders, and her critical papers were the best +then published, and were fitly succeeded by those of her scholarly +friend, George Ripley. It was her review in the <i>Tribune</i> of +Browning's early dramas and the "Bells and Pomegranates" that +introduced him to such general knowledge and appreciation among +cultivated readers in this country that it is not less true of +Browning than of Carlyle that he was first better known in America +than at home. +</p> + +<p> +It was but about four years before the publication of Miss Fuller's +paper that the Boston issue of Tennyson's two volumes had delighted +the youth of the time with the consciousness of the appearance of a +new English poet. The eagerness and enthusiasm with which Browning was +welcomed soon after were more limited in extent, but they were even +more ardent, and the devoted zeal of Mr. Levi Thaxter as a Browning +missionary and pioneer forecast the interest from which the Browning +societies of later days have sprung. When Matthew Arnold was told in a +small and remote farming village in New England that there had been a +lecture upon Browning in the town the week before, he stopped in +amazement, and said, "Well, that is the most surprising and +significant fact I have heard in America." +</p> + +<p> +It was in those early days of Browning's fame, and in the studio of +the sculptor Powers, in Florence, that the youthful Easy Chair took up +a visiting-card, and, reading the name Mr. Robert Browning, asked, +with eager earnestness, whether it was Browning the poet. Powers +turned his large, calm, lustrous eyes upon the youth, and answered, +with some surprise at the warmth of the question: +</p> + +<p> +"It is a young Englishman, recently married, who is here with his +wife, an invalid. He often comes to the studio." +</p> + +<p> +"Good Heaven!" exclaimed the youth, "it must be Browning and Elizabeth +Barrett." +</p> + +<p> +Powers, with the half-bewildered air of one suddenly made conscious +that he had been entertaining angels unawares, said, reflectively, "I +think we must have them to tea." +</p> + +<p> +The youth begged to take the card which bore the poet's address, and, +hastening to his room near the Piazza Novella, he wrote a note asking +permission for a young American to call and pay his respects to Mr. +and Mrs. Browning, but wrote it in terms which, however warm, would +yet permit it to be put aside if it seemed impertinent, or if, for any +reason, such a call were not desired. The next morning betimes the +note was despatched, and a half-hour had not passed when there was a +brisk rap at the Easy Chair's door. He opened it, and saw a young man, +who briskly inquired, +</p> + +<p> +"Is Mr. Easy Chair here?" +</p> + +<p> +"That is my name." +</p> + +<p> +"I am Robert Browning." +</p> + +<p> +Browning shook hands heartily with his young American admirer, and +thanked him for his note. The poet was then about thirty-five. His +figure was not large, but compact, erect, and active; the face smooth, +the hair dark; the aspect that of active intelligence, and of a man of +the world. He was in no way eccentric, either in manner or appearance. +He talked freely, with great vivacity, and delightfully, rising and +walking about the room as his talk sparkled on. He heard, with evident +pleasure, but with entire simplicity and manliness, of the American +interest in his works and in those of Mrs. Browning, and the Easy +Chair gave him a copy of Miss Fuller's paper in the <i>Tribune</i>. +</p> + +<p> +It was a bright and, to the Easy Chair, a wonderfully happy hour. As +he went, the poet said that Mrs. Browning would certainly expect to +give Mr. Easy Chair a cup of tea in the evening, and with a brisk and +gay good-bye, Browning was gone. +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair blithely hied him to the Cafe Done, and ordered of the +flower-girl the most perfect of nosegays, with such fervor that she +smiled, and when she brought the flowers in the afternoon, said, with +sympathy and meaning: "Eccola, signore! per la donna bellissima!" +</p> + +<p> +It was not in the Casa Guidi that the Brownings were then living, but +in an apartment in the Via della Scala, not far from the place or +square most familiar to strangers in Florence--the Piazza Trinita. +Through several rooms the Easy Chair passed, Browning leading the way, +until at the end they entered a smaller room arranged with an air of +English comfort, where, at a table, bending over a tea-urn, sat a +slight lady, her long curls drooping forward. "Here," said Browning, +addressing her with a tender diminutive--"here is Mr. Easy Chair." +And, as the bright eyes but wan face of the lady turned towards him, +and she put out her hand, Mr. Easy Chair recalled the first words of +her verse he had ever known: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "'Onora, Onora!' her mother is calling,<br> + She sits at the lattice, and hears the dew falling,<br> + Drop after drop from the sycamore laden<br> + With dew as with blossom, and calls home the maiden.<br> + 'Night cometh, Onora!'" +</p> + +<p> +The most kindly welcome and pleasant chat followed, Browning's gayety +dashing and flashing in, with a sense of profuse and bubbling +vitality, glancing at a hundred topics; and when there was some +allusion to his "Sordello," he asked, quickly, with an amused smile, +"Have you read it?" The Easy Chair pleaded that he had not seen it. +"So much the better. Nobody understands it. Don't read it, except in +the revised form, which is coming." The revised form has come long +ago, and the Easy Chair has read, and probably supposes that he +understands. But Thackeray used to say that he did not read Browning +because he could not comprehend him, adding, ruefully, "I have no head +above my eyes." +</p> + +<p> +A few days later-- +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "O gift of God! O perfect day!"-- +</p> + +<p> +the Easy Chair went with Mr. and Mrs. Browning to Vallombrosa, and the +one incident most clearly remembered is that of Browning's seating +himself at the organ in the chapel, and playing--some Gregorian chant, +perhaps, or hymn of Pergolesi's. It was enough to the enchanted eyes +of his young companion that they saw him who was already a great +English poet sitting at the organ where the young Milton had sat, and +touching the very keys which Milton's hand had pressed. +</p> + +<p> +It was midsummer in Italy, but the high, narrow streets of Florence +hold a protecting shade over the lingering pilgrim, and from such +companionship as that of the Via della Scala even Venice long wooed in +vain. But at last, reluctantly, although the fascinating way lay +through Bologna and Ferrara, the journey began towards Venice; and in +that city, so early and always dear to Browning, whose romantic life +and story most deeply touched and stirred his imagination, and in +which he lately died, the Easy Chair received from the poet a glimpse +of his earliest impressions. +</p> + +<p> +Writing from Casa Guidi, in Florence, on the 9th of August, 1847--Casa +Guidi, upon which a tablet records that there Elizabeth Barrett and +Robert Browning lived, and "Casa Guidi Windows," "Sonnets from the +Portuguese," and "Aurora Leigh" were written--Browning says: +</p> + +<p> +"The people of the house there [Via della Scala] told us honestly + on the morning of your departure that they could only receive us + for a single month, at the expiration of which were to begin + certain whitewashings and repaintings. We continued our quest, + therefore, and at last found out this cool, airy apartment, + which we shall occupy for another month or six weeks, whatever + be our subsequent plans, for Rome, or for the Venice you + describe.... +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "I spent a month of entire delight there some eight years ago,<br> + and tho' nothing I have since seen has effaced the impressions<br> + of my visit, yet your fresher feelings <i>bring out</i> whatever<br> + looks faint or dubious in them, as a gentle sponging might<br> + revive the gone glory of some old picture. (You must know I<br> + have seen an exquisite copy of a Giorgione, the original of<br> + which--so I was told--grew only visible and intelligible when<br> + thus wetted.) I am glad the railroad and gas-lighting do Venice<br> + no more wrong, and that you find all the old strange quietness,<br> + and--ought I to be glad of this, too?--depopulation; for of<br> + late years we have heard a great deal of the returning life and<br> + prosperity of the place; and Mr. Valery, I observe, retracts<br> + his earlier bodements of a speedy extinction of what little<br> + glimmer of light he still saw. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "As for me, I remember that the accounts of the depreciation of<br> + the value of houses, coupled with the indifference of the<br> + inhabitants of them, were enough to set one dreaming (in one's<br> + gondola!) of getting to be as rich as Rothschild, buying all<br> + Venice, turning out everybody, and ensconcing one's self in the<br> + Doge's palace, among the dropping gold ornaments and flakes of<br> + what was lustrous color in Titian's or Tintoret's time, waiting<br> + for the proper consummation of all things and the sea's advent.<br> +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "But do you really find the air so light and pure in this by<br> + right mephitic time of August, with those close <i>calles</i>,<br> + pestilential lagunes, etc., etc., and all that our informants<br> + frighten us with? Should a winter in Venice prove no more<br> + formidable in its way than it seems a summer does, why, we may<br> + have cause to regret our determination to give up our original<br> + plans. I am sure your kindness will tell us, should it be<br> + enabled, any good news of the winter and spring climate--if<br> + weak lungs may brave it with impunity.".... +</p> + +<p> +To this letter of Browning's, written in his young manhood--he was +then thirty-five--about the Venice which always charmed him, may be +well added the words of the Lady of Mura, written only a few weeks +before the poet's death. Asolo is a sequestered town, which Browning +said that he discovered, and in which he fell under the glamour of +very Italy. In the prologue to his last volume, written in September +before the letter that follows, the poet says: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "How many a year, my Asolo,<br> + Since--one step just from sea to land--<br> + I found you, loved, yet feared you so--<br> + For natural objects seemed to stand<br> + Palpably fire-clothed!" +</p> + +<p> +The letter says: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "I have bought in ancient Asolo a narrow, tall tower, into which<br> + in the last century (very early) a house was built, and this<br> + curious place I have selected for villeggiatura when the<br> + scirocco is too strong in Venice for health or comfort. It was<br> + here that Browning fifty years ago was inspired to write<br> + 'Sordello' and 'Pippa Passes,' so to me it has that charm added<br> + to many others. It is such a rough and out-of-the-way little<br> + place that you may only know it by name. There is no hotel, no<br> + railway, no factory, no sign of modern civilization. It is on a<br> + hill, which has an ancient ruined fortress at the top, and was<br> + an old Roman settlement, with the usual Roman <i>mise en scene</i>,<br> + baths, amphitheatre, etc., in the days of Pliny, who somewhere<br> + mentions it. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Near my tower, which is built in the ancient wall of the<br> + mediaeval town, is the tower of Caterina Cornaro, and one sees<br> + from most of my windows, so high are they, the whole Marca<br> + Trevigiana, with its tragic and dramatic associations of the<br> + early Middle Ages; the Eccelini, the Azzi, the incessant wars<br> + in which towns were treated by the tyrants like shuttlecocks in<br> + the game of battledoor.<br> +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Browning and his sister have been here for the last six weeks,<br> + and you may fancy how intensely the poet enjoys revisiting<br> + after so many years the scenes of his youthful inspirations. He<br> + was only twenty-five or six when he first discovered Asolo....<br> + Few young people are so gay and cheerful as he and his dear old<br> + sister.".... +</p> + +<p> +It is a pleasant last glimpse of Browning at Asolo, where the +master-spell of Italy first touched his genius, and whither at the end +he came--"<i>asolare</i>, to disport in the open air, amuse one's self at +random"--at heart and in temper of the same unquenched and +unquenchable vitality as on that summer day long ago when he sat where +Milton had sat, and pressed, as Milton had pressed, the keys of the +organ at Vallombrosa. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?<br> + And did he stop and speak to you?<br> + And did you speak to him again?--<br> + How strange it seems and new!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxv">PLAYERS.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is no wonder that Longfellow wrote a sonnet to Mrs. Fanny Kemble +upon her Readings. Those evenings were indeed "happy," and "too +swiftly sped." Mrs. Kemble's ample person draped in gold-colored silk, +her flowing black hair folded and braided in some large style about +her head, her rich and low and exquisitely modulated voice, her +queenly presence, her magnificence of self-possession--all this +fascinating personality made her reading memorable, and like a torch +which reveals the perfect detail of great sculpture or architecture, +her genius gave the whole value to every character and scene of the +play. Did Whitfield pronounce the word Mesopotamia like a wind harp +sighing exquisite music? So Mrs. Kemble's recitation of the soliloquy +of Jaques left one line in the recollection of one hearer, which, like +an enchanted fruit, is constantly renewing its freshness and flavor. +It is one of the most familiar lines in Shakespeare, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "All the world's a stage,<br> + And all the men and women merely players." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair was introduced to Mr. John Gilbert not very long before +the death of that delightful actor. It was in the morning, and Mr. +Gilbert was dressed with gentlemanly simplicity and propriety. But as +he bowed courteously the good player seemed to have stepped aside for +a moment from his real life, and to be not quite at ease when saluted +by his own name rather than by that of Sir Peter, or Squire +Hardcastle, or Sir Anthony Absolute. Methought, as the sages of the +theatre say, that the stage was a more natural life to him. He knew +the part of his own personality less familiarly than some other parts. +The modest gentleman seemed half anxious to escape, as if he were +caught in an undress, and pined for the security of the embroidered +coat of a character. +</p> + +<p> +Let us stop for a moment to say how fine he was in that embroidered +coat. It is hard to conceive that Mr. Gilbert can have any adequate +successor in his own parts. He created the standard, and when living +memory can no longer measure the comparative excellence of other +performances of them, they will be tested by the traditions of +Gilbert. The plain good-breeding of his Hardcastle had a rustic +quality, or flavor, rather, which was delicately discriminated from +the courtly refinement of his Sir Peter. There was the essential +gentleman in both, but it was the country gentleman in one and the +city gentleman in the other. The touch of chuckling senility in +Hardcastle's pleasure with Diggory's enjoyment of his stories, and the +uxorious fondness of Sir Peter, are both of a kind, but they are not +the same, and you feel the difference. Neither of these characters can +be dissociated from Gilbert by those who have seen him in them, and to +know that they will not be seen again under the same conditions and +support is to be conscious of a public loss. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Gilbert was a professional player. But since Mrs. Kemble's voice +not only pronounced the words describing us all as players, but +suggested to that hearer the various significance of the words, how +the universality of the truth becomes more and more apparent! In all +the great interests of life--religion, politics, business--we have our +exits and our entrances, and, in this, unlike Gilbert, we show +ourselves to each other not as the men we are, but as players. Here is +Sylvanus, for instance, who may stand for us all, most amiable of men +if you could happen upon him in some happy undress moment. But they +are few. The poor fellow is cast for many parts, and he plays with +little intermission. +</p> + +<p> +One of his characters is the politician. He depicts a furious +partisan, and is so lost in his part that while the man Sylvanus +speaks the truth and desires it, yet in his character of politician it +is not truth or fair play that he wants, but whatever tends to advance +and aggrandize his party. He carefully depreciates those with whom he +does not agree. He cultivates distrust of every word spoken and every +deed done by the other party. Personally he likes many of his +opponents. His personal relations show that he does not really think +them the rascals and impostors and traitors that in his part of +politician he declares them to be. It seems often to a dispassionate +observer that when he accuses them as politicians of lying, cheating, +and stealing, he estimates them by his knowledge of himself as a +politician. He supposes that they would not hesitate to do what, +without compunction, he does himself. They are all players together, +and this is a kind of stage rant designed to impress the groundlings, +who, after all, compose the larger part of the audience. +</p> + +<p> +Sylvanus also plays the part of a religious sectary. As a private +person he enjoys greatly the wit and intelligence and stored +experience of life which distinguish his neighbor Eugenius. The purity +and elevation of his neighbor brighten the days on which they meet, +and he is always a better and a wiser man when they part. But these +are his off hours, his moments of vacation. He appears on the stage as +a sectary, and plays his part with resolute energy. This part again is +that of a man not pursuing truth, but so occupied with maintaining his +own conception of truth that he has no time to test it. It is a comedy +of great humor, because Sylvanus, as a sectary, stands against all +comers to protect a spring of deep and clear water, and is so +engrossed in guarding the sacred wave from the least pollution that he +does not find time to remark that it is not a spring at all, but a dry +sand-pit. +</p> + +<p> +In the incessant playing of all these parts to which his life and +powers are chiefly devoted the charming personality of Sylvanus is +quite lost. The man himself, divested of the stage costume and the +text of his parts, is almost unknown. Others could play the politician +or the sectary or the trader, but nobody could play Sylvanus. He is a +modest, intelligent man, who knows that nobody can pre-empt truth or +honesty or urbanity; that good men do not become bad by holding views +which he may think to be wrong; and that his friends may be deceived +as readily as the friends of others. These things, which he recognizes +as the merest commonplaces when he is off the stage, he derides as +utter nonsense when he is in the midst of a representation. Then, in +the most vehement way, which is the stage tradition of the part, he +shouts that everybody who would do well must run to his side, as if we +were all passengers on a ship which is capsizing, but would be righted +if everybody on board lost his own balance. +</p> + +<p> +It is because even such men as Sylvanus take to the stage that +Shakespeare, "sitting pensive and alone, above the hundred-handed play +of his imagination," calls all men and women merely players. Like John +Gilbert, although we do not play characters so amusing and harmless as +his upon the stage, when we are not on it we seem to be a little lost, +and secretly crave the theatre. It is remarked that when actors have +an off night they go and sit in front at the play. +</p> + +<p> +A charming comedy often arises from forgetfulness of the fact that a +play is a play, and not real. One of the finest and not unfamiliar +strokes of comedy in this kind is that of a seasoned veteran in the +part of a politician who turns upon another veteran with whom he +differs upon a question of expediency, and striking an attitude, with +an air and tone worthy of the great Folair himself, or Mr. Crummies in +his loftier moments, exclaims, "Apostate!" It is conceded that there +has been nothing finer on the stage since Dick Turpin pointed his +finger at Jonnathan Wild and sneered, impressively, "Thief!" +</p> + +<p> +It is well for the peace of mind of the nervously disposed to remember +that if we are all merely players, we must not take the play too +seriously. A play is a simulation for entertainment, and as we look at +Sylvanus and our other friends playing the politician or the sectary, +we must constantly bear in mind that it is a play, and only a play. If +we really thought he came hither as a man and not a sectary, for +instance, it were pity of our life. If the part is played too really, +let Sylvanus heed an earlier wisdom. "Let him name his name, and tell +them plainly he is Snug, the joiner." +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxvi">UNMUSICAL BOXES.</a></h2> + +<p> +It was a sage of the gentler sex who, after many years of experience, +remarked that "men are queer!" That they are so in a positive sense no +shrewd observer of mankind would deny, but that they are so +comparatively or absolutely would be a very hardy assertion. If the +queen of the household is of opinion that her associate majesty is +very queer because he enjoys a torrid height of the mercury in the +drawing-room, he holds probably a similar view of her fondness in the +dining-room for what he describes as burnt beef. A hopeless bachelor +who prided himself upon what he defiantly called his freedom, used to +say, with an air of commiseration and extreme caution, that he +supposed his married friends were probably what they called happy. But +he added that he never knew any of the happy pairs to agree upon the +proper warmth of a room, or the true turn of a roast, or the just +amount of fresh air. Still, he said, demurely, I do not assert that +their matrimonial felicity was not great. +</p> + +<p> +But the axiom of the sage of the better sex, that men are queer, has +been strongly confirmed by a recent decision of the authorities of the +Metropolitan Opera-house in New York. That important body, producing +the figures, has announced in effect that as it is clear from the +accounts that the presentation of German opera is more profitable than +that of Italian and French opera combined, it is evident that the +public desires to hear Italian and French opera, and therefore for the +present the German opera will be discontinued. This is certainly +delightful proof that men are queer, and that one respected group of +them by a signal display of queerness are anxious to contribute to the +gayety of nations. It is a striking illustration of the superiority of +man to money, and in the mad struggle for a mere material advantage, +this devotion to pure art, condemning the expense, is a noble tribute +to the unselfishness of human nature. +</p> + +<p> +Another view has been advanced which is also interesting to the +student of mankind. It is put in this way, that if the cost of the +Italian and French opera should be a hundred thousand dollars in a +season more than that of the German, yet it will be gladly paid by +those denizens of boxes who have an insatiable desire to proceed with +their intellectual cultivation by audible conversation during the +performance. The argument is that these devotees of the intellect hold +that nothing is lost by not hearing the Italian and French music, and +that the evening can be much more profitably devoted to the +stimulating conversation which takes place in an opera box. +</p> + +<p> +Still another view is even more honorable to the boxes, while it does +not depreciate the performance. This view holds that the operatic +situation offers a choice of delights, an embarrassment of riches. +</p> + +<p> +Charming and elevating as the music may be, yet still more lofty and +inspiring is the conversation, and the boxes are therefore compelled +to an alternative, and very naturally and properly choose their own +talk to the music. The decision of the authorities may be consequently +held to be designed to secure a continuation of conversation in the +boxes upon the lowest terms of loss. +</p> + +<p> +This cannot but be regarded by a judicious public as a wise +conclusion. It is, of course, desirable that the wit and wisdom of the +box chat should continue, but at the least sacrifice; and the least +sacrifice seems to be considered the Italian and French opera together +with a certain sum of money. Upon these lowest terms every friend of +humanity will be glad to know that the colloquial delights of the +boxes will be perpetuated. It is even hinted also that there will be +no disposition in an unmannerly parquet to hiss the interruption of +Italian and French opera. If the boxes think fit upon intellectual +grounds to accompany the dying falls of French and Italian strains +with a cheerful murmur of talk, the parquet will acquiesce without a +sense of loss, if, indeed, upon such occasions there should be any +parquet remaining. +</p> + +<p> +The noble sacrifice of those public benefactors, the unmusical boxes, +is still more strikingly illustrated by the fact that the Italian +opera droops in other operatic countries as with us, and that not only +in England, which has been the El Dorado of the artists of the +Southern school, but in Italy itself, the opera of Italy has declined. +The truth probably is that for some time in all musically cultivated +countries Italian opera, which was a traditional fashion, was largely +maintained as a social opportunity under conditions which most favored +personal display and made the least intellectual demand. It supplied +also to the society in the boxes at the San Carlo, the Pergola, the +Scala, the Italiens, and Her Majesty's, the entertainment, in the +persons of famous prima-donnas, of an extraordinary vocal performance. +</p> + +<p> +The charm of that performance was undeniable. The rippling and +glittering gayety of Rossini, the sweet and tender melody of Bellini, +the sparkle of Auber, the romantic pathos of Donizetti, the brilliant +melodramatic strain of Verdi--none who have felt the spell will deny +the enchantment. But <i>tempora mutantur</i>; one age with its spirit and +taste succeeds another. A deeper, stronger, more earnest taste in +music, a higher general cultivation, another theory of opera, have +come into the house and seated themselves in the parquet, and look +askance at the boxes as the Quartier St. Antoine looked upon the +Faubourg St. Germain. The boxes, with the innocent ignorance of the +<i>oeil-de-boeuf</i>, propose to maintain the old order, to stand by +Bellini and Donizetti and the last half-century. It is touching and +interesting. <i>Vive l'opera italienne! Vivent les loges!</i> So Marie +Antoinette appeared in the balcony of the banqueting hall at +Versailles, and so the <i>garde du roi</i> sprang to its feet with gallant +enthusiasm, rattling its sabres and pledging the Queen. It is a heroic +story, a romantic tradition.--And the Queen? And the <i>garde du roi</i>? +</p> + +<p> +The authorities of the opera invite the city to an interesting +entertainment. Nothing has seemed more natural than the precedence of +German opera at a time in which the German musical genius and +cultivation are dominant, and in a city in which the German audience +abounds. And now, for our pleasure, Sisyphus will take a turn at the +stone, and the lovely Danaides of the boxes, in the shining garments +of Worth, with soft disdain of difficulty, will essay with sieves of +the finest texture to bale out the ocean. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxvii">THE DINNER IN ARCADIA.</a></h2> + +<p> +The Easy Chair went up lately to the hills to enjoy the annual dinner +at Arcadia. It is a summer feast which tradition assigns to some old +academy in those parts, supposed to have been founded by a pastor of +the village in the days before railroads, when there was no path to +Arcadia except that which is still sometimes pursued. It is a winding +sylvan way through woods and by singing streams and solitary farms, +and as you drive slowly on you feel yourself penetrating farther and +farther into a rural seclusion to which the modern world has hardly +found its way, and where you might expect to surprise a peaceful +community of ancient New England, as in threading the remoter recesses +and heights of the Catskill you might come upon a party of Hendrik +Hudson's crew. +</p> + +<p> +In this loneliness of the hills the young pastor, who was in delicate +health and unmarried, relieved the sombre severity of clerical life by +teaching a few boys and girls. By that fond indirection he brightened +with fresh air and natural music and sunshine the dry routine of his +unmated days. For the cheerless solemnity of the life of the country +clergy in those times it is hard to imagine. The missionaries to East +London tell us that the peculiar characteristic of that vast region, +swarming with human beings, is want of entertainment. The people there +do not laugh. They have no diversion. There is nothing pleasant to see +or to hear. It is a huge stone mill in which human life is ground up +in an endless and barren monotony of hard work. +</p> + +<p> +It is odd to trace any resemblance to it in a life so different; but +the old-fashioned Calvinistic divine in his small country parish, +revolving in an actual world of petty details, and in another world of +grim theological speculation and absorption in the contemplation of +death, must have seldom smiled. The young pastor was bound by no vow +of celibacy, but he knew that his life must be brief, and he gladly +surrounded himself with children in the guise of pupils, and when he +died he left a Bible to his church, a small sum for the education of +heathen youth in America, some manuscript sermons to his parents, and +the rest of his little property to found an academy for godly youth. +</p> + +<p> +This at least is the tradition. But when Silvertongue came once to the +dinner he put the story aside airily as a pleasant fiction, and +averred that the annual feast was instituted simply to glorify two +legendary friends of the town and enjoy them forever. This had a sound +that contrasted not inaptly with the seriousness of the hills, and +suggested an origin not unlike that of the feasts in the Lacedemonian +worship of the Dioscuri. Still another theory which is like to grow +with time associates it with the memory of two strangers of benignant +aspect, who appeared suddenly in the village like the gray-haired +regicide at Hadley, and aiding the towns-people not with a sword, but +with a bounty, departed. They are all pleasant tales. But the earliest +tradition is likely to be the truest. It was the good pastor who sowed +the modest seed which has now sprung up a hundred-fold. +</p> + +<p> +This year the text of the afternoon, for the dinner begins at one +o'clock, was the report of the census that the town is declining in +population. The guests were a company of the people of the hills. They +came from a circuit of a score of miles. The dinner is served cold, +and the guests feast +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "In summer, when the days are long,<br> + On dainty chicken, snow-white bread," +</p> + +<p> +and by two o'clock the blue gauze is spread over the remnants, the +benches are turned so that the whole company faces the speakers, and +then speech begins. +</p> + +<p> +It was the verdict of the hills upon the report of the census that if +the number of individuals is decreasing, the number of families is +not. The ancient quiverfuls are disappearing, and the tale of children +in a family is diminishing. But the general welfare of the family +itself is increasing, while the marvellous facilities of communication +bring all resources into the hills, and the remote little village of +the old pastor is practically becoming a suburb. +</p> + +<p> +If a higher general welfare prevails, what matter if the population +somewhat declines? Quality is better than quantity. If, as a Senator +of Massachusetts says, the people of the hills are merely descending +into the valleys, who can complain if they bring with them the simple +and hardy virtues which grow upon the hills like the great +agricultural staples? Let the census say what it will, statistics need +not frighten until they show a decadence of character as well as a +decline of population. If, however, character is decaying, if the +primary conditions of that fundamental life of the country are +changing, a general change may be anticipated. But in Arcadia those +signs do not yet appear. Whether there are more or fewer persons than +there were fifty years ago, the comfort, the resources, the +opportunities are constantly greater. Undoubtedly they bring their +dangers and disadvantages. But the same steady force of character that +dealt with the old difficulties can deal with the new. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps the trouble lies less in the depletion of the hills than in +the surfeit of the shore. The dragon of the glittering scales that +threatens American youth and maidens may be rather Sybaris by the sea +than Arcadia on the hills. It may be also rather the annual +half-million of utter aliens that come from other lands, strange to us +in everything that fosters a homogeneous national life, rather than +the hundreds who come down morally as well as numerically from the +uplands nearer heaven. +</p> + +<p> +So in the larger academy which the young pastor unconsciously founded +the various voices of suggestion, experience, and reflection spoke. It +was a rural feast, an Arcadian holiday, such as the Swedish poet +Tegner might have sketched in simple and melodious measure, or Grecian +artists carved upon a frieze. +</p> + +<p> +Then in the late and beautiful afternoon, and later in the light of +the full moon, the guests dispersed, weaving the fragmentary hints of +speech into completer views and purposes of patriotic life, as the +children of the fairies wove the scattered shreds of gold into shining +garments. Slowly over the hills by every bowery road, towards loftier +Goshen and Hawley, and higher Chesterfield, and Plainfield where +Byrant sang to the Water-fowl, down winding ways to Buckland and +Charlemont and Zoar, eastward to Conway and Deerfield and remoter +Sunderland, and all the wide valley of the Connecticut, the pilgrims +wended homeward. +</p> + +<p> +THE END. +</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From the Easy Chair, vol. 1, by +George William Curtis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + +***** This file should be named 7475-h.htm or 7475-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/7/7475/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + 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'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/7475-h/images/ec001.jpg b/7475-h/images/ec001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c43bab --- /dev/null +++ b/7475-h/images/ec001.jpg diff --git a/7475.txt b/7475.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ea8791a --- /dev/null +++ b/7475.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4387 @@ +Project Gutenberg's From the Easy Chair, vol. 1, by George William Curtis + +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'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: From the Easy Chair, vol. 1 + +Author: George William Curtis + +Posting Date: February 8, 2015 [EBook #7475] +Release Date: February, 2005 +First Posted: May 7, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Portrait of the author] + +FROM THE EASY CHAIR + +BY + +GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS + + + + +"I shall from Time to Time Report and Consider all Matters of what +Kind Soever that shall occur to Me." --THE TATLER. + + + +CONTENTS. + + +EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862 +AT THE OPERA IN 1864 +EMERSON LECTURING +SHOPS AND SHOPPING +MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN +DICKENS READING [1867] +PHILLIS +THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE +HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS +THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS [1871] +URBS AND RUS +RIP VAN WINKLE +A CHINESE CRITIC +HOLIDAY SAUNTERING +WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD [1881] +EASTER BONNETS +JENNY LIND +THE TOWN +SARAH SHAW RUSSELL +STREET MUSIC +A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY +CECILIA PLAYING +THE MANNERLESS SEX +ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE +PLAYERS +UNMUSICAL BOXES +THE ACADEMY DINNER IN ARCADIA + + + + +EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862. + + +The house was full, and murmurous with the pleasant chat and rustling +movement of well-dressed persons of both sexes who waited patiently +the coming of the orator, looking at the expanse of stage, which was +carpeted, and covered with rows of settees that went backward from the +footlights to a landscape of charming freshness of color, that might +have been set for the "Maid of Milan" or the pastoral opera. Between +the seats and the foot-lights was a broad space, upon which stood a +small table and two or three chairs; and if the orator of the evening, +like a _primo tenore_, had been surveying the house through the +friendly chinks of the pastoral landscape, he would have felt a warm +suffusion of pleasure that his name should be the magic spell to +summon an audience so fair, so numerous, and so intelligent. + +There were ushers who showed ladies to seats, and with their +dress-coats and bright badges looked like a milder Metropolitan +police. But no greater force was presumed to be required of them than +pressing aside a too discursive crinoline. In the soft, ample light, +as the audience sat with fluttering ribbons and bright gems and +splendid silks and shawls, so tranquilly expectant, so calmly smiling, +so shyly blushing (if, haply, in all that crowd there were a pair of +lovers!), it was hard to believe that civil war was wasting the land, +and that at the very moment some of those glad hearts were broken--but +would not know it until the sad news came. Yet it was easy, in the +same glance, to feel that even the terrible shape that we thought we +had eluded forever did not seem, after all, so terrible; that even +civil war might be shaking the gates and the guests still smile in the +chambers. + +But while leaning against the wall, under the balcony, the Easy Chair +looks around upon the humming throng and thinks of camps far away, and +beating drums and wild alarms and sweeping squadrons of battle, there +is a sudden hush and a simultaneous glance towards one side of the +house, and there, behind the seats at the side, and making for the +stage door, marches a procession, two and two, very solemn, very bald, +very gray, and in evening dress. They are the invited guests, the +honored citizens of Brooklyn, the reverend clergy, and others; a body +of substantial, intelligent, decorous persons. They disappear for a +moment within the door, and immediately emerge upon the stage with a +composed bustle, moving the seats, taking off their coats, sedately +interchanging little jests, and finally seating themselves, and gazing +at the audience evidently with a feeling of doubt whether the honor of +the position compensates for its great disadvantage; for to sit behind +an orator is to hear, without seeing, an actor. + +The audience is now waiting, both upon the stage and in the boxes, +with patient expectation. There is little talking, but a tension of +heads towards the stage. The last word is spoken there, the last joke +expires; all attention is concentrated upon an expected object. The +edge of eagerness is not suffered to turn, but precisely at the right +moment a figure with a dark head and another with a gray head are seen +at the depth of the stage, advancing through the aisle towards the +foot-lights and the audience. They are the president of the society +and the orator. The audience applauds. It is not a burst of +enthusiasm; it is rather applausive appreciation of acknowledged +merit. The gray-headed orator bows gravely and slightly, lays a roll +of MS. upon the table, then he and the president seat themselves side +by side. For a moment they converse, evidently complimenting the +brilliant audience. The orator, also, evidently says that the table is +right, that the light is right, that the glass of water is right, and +finally that he is ready. + +In a few neat words "the honored son of Massachusetts" is introduced, +and he rises and moves a few steps forward. Standing for a moment, he +bows to the applause. He is dressed entirely in black; wearing a +dress-coat, and not a frock. Before he says a word, although it is but +a moment, a sudden flash of memory reveals to the attentive Easy Chair +all that he has heard and read of the orator before him; how he +returned an accomplished scholar from Germany, graced with a delicacy +of culture hitherto unknown to our schools; how the youthful professor +of Greek at Harvard, transferred to the pulpit of Brattle Street, in +Boston, held men and women in thrall by the splendor of his rhetoric +and the pleading music of his voice, drawing the young scholars after +him, who are now our chief glory and pride; how his Phi Beta Kappa +oration in 1824 and its apostrophe to Lafayette, who was present, is +still the fond tradition of those who heard it; and how as he passed +on from triumph to triumph in his art of oratory, the elegance, the +skill, the floridity, the elaboration, the unfailing fitness and +severe propriety of his art, with all its minor gifts, consoled Boston +that it was not Athens or Rome, and had not heard Demosthenes or +Cicero. + +If you ventured curiously to question this fond recollection, to ask +whether the eloquence was of the heart and soul, or of the mind and +lips; whether it were impassioned oratory, burning, resistless, such +as we suppose Demosthenes and Patrick Henry poured out; or whether it +were polished and skilful declamation--those old listeners were like +lovers. They did not know; they did not care. They remembered the +magic tone, the witchery of grace, the exuberant rhetoric; they +recalled the crowds clustering at his feet, the gusts of emotion that +in the church swept over the pews, the thrills of delight that in the +hall shook the audience; their own youth was part of it; they saw +their own bloom in the flower they remembered, and they could not +criticise or compare. + +All this recollection flashed through the mind of the Easy Chair +before the orator had well opened his lips. The tradition was +overpowering. It was not fair, but it was inevitable. If we could see +and hear Patrick Henry, with uplifted finger, shouting, "Charles First +had his Cromwell, and George Third--may take warning by his example!" +would it be, could it be, even with all our expectation, what we +believe it to have been? After the tremendous blare of trumpets in +advance that shake our very souls within us, no ordinary mortal can +satisfy the transcendent anticipation. We lift the leathern curtain of +St. Peter's, and catching our breath, look in. Alas! we see plainly +the other end of the great church, but with secret disappointment, +because we imagined there would be but a dim immensity of space. For +the first time we behold Niagara, and resentfully we ask, "Is that +all?" The illimitable expectation is too bewildering an overture. So +the eyes with which the Easy Chair saw were touched with glamour. The +ears with which it heard were full of eloquence beyond that of mortal +lips. And there was the orator just beginning to speak. It was not +fair; no, it was not fair. + +The first words were clearly cut, simply and perfectly articulated. +"It is often said that the day for speaking has passed, and that of +action has arrived." It was a direct, plain introduction; not a florid +exordium. The voice was clear and cold and distinct; not especially +musical, not at all magnetic. The orator was incessantly moving; not +rushing vehemently forward or stepping defiantly backward, with that +quaint planting of the foot, like Beecher; but restlessly changing his +place, with smooth and rounded but monotonous movement. The arms and +hands moved harmonious with the body, not with especial reference to +what was said, but apparently because there must be action. The first +part of the discourse was strictly a lucid narrative of events and +causes: a compact and calm chapter of our political history by a man +as well versed in it as any man in the country; and it culminated in a +description of the fall of Sumter. This was an elaborate picture in +words of a perfectly neutral tint. There was not a single one which +was peculiarly picturesque or vivid; no electric phrase that sent the +whole striking scene shuddering home to every hearer; no sudden light +of burning epithet, no sad elegiac music. The passage was purely +academic. Each word was choice; each detail was finished; it was +properly cumulative to its climax; and when that was reached, loud +applause followed. It was general, but not enthusiastic. No one could +fail to admire the skill with which the sentence was constructed; and +so elaborate a piece of workmanship justly challenged high praise. But +still--still, do you get any thrill from the most perfect mosaic? + +Then followed a caustic and brilliant sketch of the attitude of +Virginia in this war. In this part of his discourse the orator was +himself an historic personage; for it was to him, when editor of the +_North American Review_, that James Madison wrote his letter +explanatory of the Virginia resolutions of '98. The wit that sparkled +then in the pages of the _Review_ glittered now along the speech. Here +was Junius turned gentleman and transfixing a State with satire. The +action of the orator was unchanged. But, in one passage, after +describing the wrongs wrought by rebels upon the country, he turned, +with upraised hand, to the rows of white-cravated clergymen who sat +behind him, and apostrophized them: "Tell me, ministers of the living +God, may we not without a breach of Christian charity exclaim, + + "'Is there not some hidden curse, + Some chosen thunder in the stores of heaven, + Red with uncommon wrath to blast the man + That seeks his greatness in his country's ruin?'" + +This passage was uttered with more force than any in the oration. The +orator's hands were clasped and raised; he moved more rapidly across +the stage; the words were spoken with artistic energy, and loudly +applauded. + +Thus far the admirable clearness of statement and perfect propriety of +speech, added to the personal prestige which surrounds any man so +distinguished as the orator, had secured a well-bred attention. But +there was not yet that eager, fixed intentness, sensitive to every +tone and shifting humor of the speaker, which shows that he thoroughly +possesses and controls the audience. There was none of that charmed +silence in which the very heart and soul seem to be listening; and at +any moment it would have been easy to go out. + +But when leaving the purely historical current the orator struck into +some considerations upon the views of our affairs taken by foreign +nations, the vivacious skill of his treatment excited a more vital +attention. There was a truer interest and a heartier applause. And +when still pressing on, but with unchanged action, he glanced at the +consequences of a successful rebellion, the audience was, for the +first time, really aroused. + +Let us suppose, said the orator, that secession is successful, what +has been gained? How are the causes of discontent removed? Will the +malcontents have seceded because of the non-rendition of fugitive +slaves? But how has secession helped it? When, in the happy words of +another, Canada has been brought down to the Potomac, do they think +their fugitives will be restored? No: not if they came to its banks +with the hosts of Pharaoh, and the river ran dry in its bed. + +Loud applause here rang through the building. + +Or, continued the orator, more vehemently, do they think, in that +case, to carry their slaves into territories now free? No, not if the +Chief-justice of the United States--and here a volley of applause +rattled in, and the orator wiped his forehead--not if the venerable +Chief-justice Taney should live yet a century, and issue a Dred Scott +decision every day of his life. + +Here followed the sincerest applause of the whole evening; and the +Easy Chair pinched his neighbor to make sure that all was as it +seemed; that these were words actually spoken, and that the orator was +Edward Everett. + +The hour and a half were passed. The peroration was upon the speaker's +tongue, closing with an exhortation to old men and old women, young +men and maidens, each in his kind and degree, to come as the waves +come when navies are stranded--to come as the winds come when forests +are rended--to come with heart and hand, with purse and +knitting-needle, with sword and gun, and fight for the Union. + +He bowed: the audience clapped for a moment, then rose and bustled +out. + +--It was not fair; no, it was not fair. The Easy Chair did not +find--how could it find?--the charm which those of another day +remembered. The oration was an admirable and elaborate address, full +of instruction and truth and patriotism, the work of a remarkably +accomplished man of great public experience. It was written in the +plainest language, and did not contain an obscure word. It was +delivered with perfect propriety, with the confidence that comes from +the habit of public speaking, and with artistic skill of articulation +and emphasis. As an illustration of memory it was remarkable, for it +was but the second time that the address had been spoken. It occupied +an hour and a half in the delivery, and yet the manuscript lay +unopened upon the table. Only three or four times was there any +hesitation which reminded the hearer that the speaker was repeating +what he had already written. His power in this respect has been often +mentioned. He is understood to have said that, if he reads anything +once, he can repeat it correctly; but if he has written it out, he can +repeat it exactly and always. This unusual facility secures to all his +addresses a completeness and finish which very few orators command. He +can say exactly what he means, and nothing more, being never betrayed +by confusion or sudden emotion to say, as so many speakers say, more +than they really think. + +But, on the other hand, it is doubtful whether all that electric +eloquence by which the hearer is caught up as by a whirlwind and swept +onward at the will of the orator, is not now a tradition in the +speeches of the orator. The glow of feeling, the rush of rhetoric, the +fiery burst of passionate power--the overwhelming impulse which makes +senates adjourn and men spring to arms--were they in the orator or in +the fascinated youth of those who remember the sermon in Brattle +Street, the apostrophe to Lafayette? + + + + +AT THE OPERA IN 1864. + + +It was a strange chance that took the Easy Chair, the other evening, +to the opera in the midst of a terrible war. But there was the scene, +exactly as it used to be. There were the bright rows of pretty women +and smiling men; the white and fanciful opera-cloaks; the gay rich +dresses; the floating ribbons; the marvellous _chevelures_; the +pearl-gray, the dove, and "tan" gloves, holding the jewelled fans and +the beautiful bouquets--the smile, the sparkle, the grace, the superb +and irresistible dandyism that we all know so well in the days of +golden youth--they were all there, and the warm atmosphere was sweet +with the thick odor of heliotrope, the very scent of _haute societe_. + +The house was full: the opera was "Faust," and by one of the exquisite +felicities of the stage, the hero, a mild, ineffective gentleman, sang +his ditties and passionate bursts in Italian, while the poor Gretchen +vowed and rouladed in the German tongue. Certainly nothing is more +comical than the careful gravity with which people of the highest +civilization look at the absurd incongruities of the stage. After the +polyglot love-making, Gretchen goes up steps and enters a house. +Presently she opens a window at which she evidently could not appear +as she does breast high, without having her feet in the cellar. The +Italian Faust rushes, ascends three steps leading to the window, which +could not by any possibility appropriately be found there, and +reclines his head upon the bosom of the fond maid. We all look on and +applaud with "sensation." But ought we not to insist, however, that +ladies in the play shall stand upon the floor, and that the floor in a +stately mansion shall not be two feet below the front door-sill? And +ought we not to demand that Faust shall woo Gretchen in their +mother-tongue? + +But we, the ludicrous public, who snarl at the carpenter and shoemaker +if the fitness of things be not observed; we, the shrewd critics, who +pillory the luckless painter who dresses a gentleman of the +Restoration in the ruff of James First's court, gaze calmly on the +most ridiculous anachronisms and impossibilities, and smite our +perfumed gloves in approbation. It is no excuse to say that the whole +thing is absurd; that people do not carry on the business of life in +song, nor expire in recitative. That is true, but even fairy tales +have their consistency. Every part is adapted to every other, and, in +the key, the whole is harmonious. Hermann, for instance, the basso, +who sang Mephistopheles, would have been quite perfect if he had only +remembered this. But he forgot that Mephisto is a sly and subtle +devil. He caricatured him. He made him a buffoon and repulsive. Such +extravagance could not have imposed upon Faust or Martha; yet we all +agreed that it was very fine, and amiably applauded what no opera-goer +of sense could seriously approve. + +You think that this is taking syllabub seriously, and that the +circumstances of the time had made the Easy Chair hypercritical. No; +it was only that there comes a time in theatre-going when the boxes +are more interesting than the stage. The mimic life fades before the +real. In the midst of the finest phrases of the impassioned Herr +Faust, what if your truant eyes stray across the parquette and see a +slight, pale figure, and recognize one of the bravest and most daring +Union generals, whose dashing assaults upon the enemy's works carried +dismay and victory day after day? Herr Faust trills on, but you see +the sombre field and the desperate battle and the glorious cause. +Gretchen musically sighs, but you see the brave boys lying where they +fell: you hear the deep, sullen roar of the cannonade; you catch far +away through the tumult of war the fierce shout of victory. And there +sits the slight, pale figure with eyes languidly fixed upon the stage; +his heart musing upon other scenes; himself the unconscious hero of a +living drama. + +Or, if you choose to lift your eyes, you see that woman with the +sweet, fair face, composed, not sad, turned with placid interest +towards the loves of Gretchen and Faust. She sees the eager delight of +the meeting; she hears the ardent vow; she feels the rapture of the +embrace. With placid interest she watches all--she, and the sedate +husband by her side. And yet when her eyes wander it is to see a man +in the parquette below her on the other side, who, between the acts, +rises with the rest and surveys the house, and looks at her as at all +the others. At this distance you cannot say if any softer color steals +into that placid face; you cannot tell if his survey lingers longer +upon her than upon the rest. Yet she was Gretchen once, and he was +Faust. There is no moonlight romance, no garden ecstasy, poorly +feigned upon the stage, that is not burned with eternal fire into +their memories. Night after night they come. They do not especially +like this music. They are not infatuated with these singers. They have +seats for the season; she with her husband, he in the orchestra +chairs. She has a pleasant home and sweet children and a kind mate, +and is not unhappy. He is at ease in his fortunes, and content. They +do not come here that they may see each other. They meet elsewhere as +all acquaintances meet. They cherish no morbid repining, no +sentimental regret. But every night there is an opera, and the theme +of every opera is love; and once, ah! once, she was Gretchen and he +was Faust. + +Do you see? These are three out of the three thousand. There is +nothing to distinguish them from the rest. Look at them all, and +reflect that all have their history; and that it is known, as this one +is known, to some other old Easy Chair, sitting in the parquette and +spying round the house. "All the world's a stage, and men and women +merely players." + +Is it quite so? Are these players? The young pale general there, the +placid woman, the man in the orchestra stall, have they been playing +only? There are scars upon that young soldier's body; in the most +secret drawer of that woman's chamber there is a dry, scentless +flower; the man in the orchestra stall could show you a tress of +golden hair. If they are players, who is in earnest? + + + + +EMERSON LECTURING. + + +Many years ago the Easy Chair used to hear Ralph Waldo Emerson +lecture. Perhaps it was in the small Sunday-school room under a +country meeting-house, on sparkling winter nights, when all the +neighborhood came stamping and chattering to the door in hood and +muffler, or ringing in from a few miles away, buried under +buffalo-skins. The little, low room was dimly lighted with oil-lamps, +and the boys clumped about the stoves in their cowhide boots, and +laughed and buzzed and ate apples and peanuts and giggled, and grew +suddenly solemn when the grave men and women looked at them. At the +desk stood the lecturer and read his manuscript, and all but the boys +sat silent and inthralled by the musical spell. + +Some of the hearers remembered the speaker as a boy, as a young man. +Some wondered what he was talking about. Some thought him very queer. +All laughed at the delightful humor or the illustrative anecdote that +sparkled for a moment upon the surface of his talk; and some sat +inspired with unknown resolves, soaring upon lofty hopes as they +heard. A nobler life, a better manhood, a purer purpose wooed every +listening soul. It was not argument, nor description, nor appeal. It +was wit and wisdom, and hard sense and poetry, and scholarship and +music. And when the words were spoken and the lecturer sat down, the +Easy Chair sat still and heard the rich cadences lingering in the air, +as the young priest's heart throbs with the long vibrations when the +organist is gone. + +The same speaker had been heard a few years previously in the Masonic +Temple in Boston. It was the fashion among the gay to call him +transcendental. Grave parents were quoted as saying, "I don't go to +hear Mr. Emerson; I don't understand him. But my daughters do." Then +came a volume containing the discourses. They were called _Essays_. +Has our literature produced any wiser book? + +As the lyceum or lecture system grew, the philosopher whom "my +daughters" understood was called to speak. A simplicity of manner that +could be called rustic if it were not of a shy, scholarly elegance; +perfect composure, clear, clean, crisp sentences; maxims as full of +glittering truth as a winter night of stars; an incessant spray of +fine fancies like the November shower of meteors; and the same +intellectual and moral exaltation, expansion, and aspiration, were the +characteristics of all his lectures. + +He was never exactly popular, but always gave a tone and flavor to the +whole lyceum course, as the lump of ambergris flavors the Sultan's +cups of coffee for a year. "We can have him once in three or four +seasons," said the committees. But really they had him all the time +without knowing it. He was the philosopher Proteus, and he spoke +through all the more popular mouths. The speakers were acceptable +because they were liberal, and he was the great liberalizer. They +were, and they are, the middle-men between him and the public. They +watered the nectar, and made it easy to drink. + +The Easy Chair heard from time to time of Proteus on the platform--how +he was more and more eccentric--how he could not be understood--how +abrupt his manner was. But the Chair did not believe that the flame +which had once been so pure could ever be dimmer, especially as he +recognized its soft lustre on every aspect of life around him. + +After many years the opportunity to hear him came again; and although +the experiment was dangerous the Chair did not hesitate to try it. The +hall was pretty and not too large, and the audience was the best that +the country could furnish. Every one came solely to hear the speaker, +for it was one lecture in a course of his only. It was pleasant to +look around and mark the famous men and the accomplished women +gathering quietly in the same city where they used to gather to hear +him a quarter of a century before. How much the man who was presently +to speak had done for their lives, and their children's, and the +country! The power of one man is not easily traced in its channels and +details, but it is marked upon the whole. The word "transcendentalism" +has long passed by. It has not, perhaps, even yet gone out of fashion +to smile at wisdom as visionary, but this particular wise man had been +acquitted of being understood by my daughters, and there were rows of +"hardheads," "practical people," curious and interesting to +contemplate in the audience. + +The tall figure entered at a side door, and sat down upon a sofa +behind the desk. Age seemed not to have touched him since the evenings +in the country Sunday-school room. As he stood at the desk the +posture, the figure, the movement, were all unchanged. There was the +same rapt introverted glance as he began in a low voice, and for an +hour the older tree shook off a ceaseless shower of riper, fairer +fruit. The topic was "Table-Talk, or Conversation;" and the lecture +was its own most perfect illustration. It was not a sermon, nor an +oration, nor an argument; it was the perfection of talk; the talk of a +poet, of a philosopher, of a scholar. Its wit was a rapier, smooth, +sharp, incisive, delicate, exquisite. The blade was pure as an icicle. +You would have sworn that the hilt was diamond. The criticism was +humane, lofty, wise, sparkling; the anecdote so choice and apt, and +trickling from so many sources, that we seemed to be hearing the best +things of the wittiest people. It was altogether delightful, and the +audience sat glowing with satisfaction. There was no rhetoric, no +gesture, no grimace, no dramatic familiarity and action; but the +manner was self-respectful and courteous to the audience, and the tone +supremely just and sincere. "He is easily king of us all," whispered +an orator. + +Yet it was not oratory either in its substance or purpose. It was a +statement of what this wise man believed conversation ought to be. Its +inevitable influence--the moral of the lecture, dear Lady Flora--was a +purification of daily talk, and the general good influence of incisive +truth-telling. If we have ever had a greater preacher of that gospel +who is he? + + + + +SHOPS AND SHOPPING. + + +If the stranger in New York, on any pleasant day, finds himself near +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage he will be in the midst of a very +pretty scene. Perhaps as he reads these words and asks the question +where that romantic cot may be found, he is comfortably seated in it, +with his feet placidly reposing upon its window-sills. It is, indeed, +in a new form. It no longer looks as it did to the early citizen of +fifty years ago, driving out before breakfast upon the Bloomingdale +Road, and surveying the calm river from the seclusion of Stryker's +Bay. It had an indefinable road-side English air in those far-off +mornings. The early citizen would not have been surprised had he heard +the horn of the guard merrily winding, and beheld the mail-coach of +old England bowling up to the door. There were fields and open spaces +about it, for it was on the edge of the city that was already reaching +out upon the island. Bloomingdale! Twas a lovely name, and 'tis a +great pity that the chief association with it is that of a very dusty +road. + +Meanwhile, if you will contemplate the Fifth Avenue Hotel you will see +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage in its present form. But what a +busy, brilliant neighborhood it is now! There are shops that recall +the prettiest upon the boulevards in Paris; and the people are greatly +to be pitied who are too fine to stop and look into them. To be too +fine is to lose much. Yet what scion of the golden youth of this +moment would dare to walk by the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway +Cottage eating an apple at three o'clock in the afternoon? + +There was a grave and well-dressed gentleman who stopped recently at +the stand of Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan, which is just in the midst of +the gay promenade, to transact some business in peanut candy. The +interest of the public in that operation was inconceivable. If he had +been Mr. Vanderbilt buying out Mr. Astor--if he had been a lunatic +astray from the asylum, or a clown escaped from the circus--he could +hardly have excited more attention. The passengers stared in +amazement. Some young gentlemen, escorting certain young ladies from +school, cracked excellent jokes upon the honest buyer of peanut candy; +and if his daughter or any friend had chanced to pass and had seen +him, she would probably have been seriously troubled and half ashamed. + +Now peanut candy is very good, and at Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan's +stand it is very cheap. Nobody is ashamed of liking it, nor of eating +it. If the grave gentleman had stepped into Caswell's brilliant shop, +let us suppose--where, perhaps, it is also sold--and had called for +that particular sweet, nobody would have stared nor made a joke nor +felt that it was extraordinary. Yet, how many of the brave generals in +the war, who charged in the very face of flaming batteries, would dare +to stop at Mrs. O'Finnigan's and buy ten cents' worth of peanut candy +if they saw Mrs. Sweller's carriage approaching, or Miss Dasher just +coming upon the walk? And as for the Misses Spanker, who daily drive +in that superb open wagon with yellow wheels, and who resemble nothing +so much as the figures in a Parisian doll-carriage, if they saw an +admirer of theirs bargaining for peanut candy at a street stand they +would not know him--they would no more bow to a man so lost to all the +finer sense of the _comme il faut_ than they would nod to a +street-sweeper. It is astonishing what an effect is produced upon some +human beings of the tender sex by clothing them in silks cut in a +certain form, and seating them in a high wooden box on yellow wheels. + +And upon us, also. When the Easy Chair beholds the silken Misses +Spanker rolling by, superior, upon those yellow wheels, it is with +difficulty that it recalls the cheese and sausage from which all that +splendor springs. To-morrow it will be Mrs. O'Finnigan's grandchildren +who will look down from their yellow wheels at the peanut and apple +stands, and wonder how persons can be so vulgar as to buy candy in the +streets. It is a whim of Mrs. Grundy's, who is all whimsey. She will +not let us buy a piece of simple candy at the corner, but she will +allow us to drag a silk dress over the garbage of the pavement. 'Tis a +whimsical sovereign. But we are so carefully trained that it is not +easy to disobey her. If to prove your independence you should stop to +buy the candy, would the pleasure of asserting yourself balance the +unpleasant consciousness that you were wondered at and laughed at? + +But the text was shops, and we have drifted into this episode because +Mrs. O'Finnigan sells peanut candy in her shop upon the sidewalk near +the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage, in the midst of the +gay spectacle of a summer day. And within a stone's-toss of her stand +how many fine houses you will see, and how many other fascinating +shops! Our English ancestors were called a shopkeeping nation by +Napoleon; but it is his own Frenchmen and Frenchwomen who have the +true secret of shopkeeping. They make shops fascinating. They have +made shopkeeping a fine art. The other day the Easy Chair stepped into +a shop in Maiden Lane, prepared to spend a very pretty sum of money, +for a very proper purpose. But if it had invaded the shopkeeper's +house, which is his castle, or threatened his hat, which is his crown, +it could not have been received more coolly. The disdainful +indifference with which its question was answered was exquisitely +comical; and the shopkeeper proceeded to look for what was required +with a superb carelessness, and an air of utter weariness and disgust +of this incessant doing of favors to the most undeserving and +insignificant people. It was plainly an act of pure grace that the +Easy Chair was not instantly shot into the street as rubbish, or given +in charge to the police as a common vagabond. + +This worthy attendant--doubtless very estimable in his private +capacity--is a serious injury to the business which he is supposed to +help. He does not in the least understand his profession. Let an Easy +Chair advise him to run over the sea to Paris, and observe how they +keep shop in that capital. Does he want a cravat? Here is a houri, +neatly dressed, evidently long waiting for him especially, and eager +to serve him. "Is it a cravat that Monsieur wishes? Charming! The most +ravishing styles are just ready! Is it blue, or this, or that, that +Monsieur prefers? Monsieur's taste is perfect. Look! It is a miracle +of beauty that he selects. Will he permit?" And before you know it, +you foolish fellow, who don't understand the first principle of your +calling--before you know it, she has thrown it around your neck, she +has tied it deftly under your chin, and that pretty face is looking +into yours, and that pleasant voice is saying, "Nothing could be +better. It is the most smiling effect possible!" You might as well +hope to escape the sirens, as to go from under those hands without +buying that cravat. + +This is shopkeeping, and a little study of the art, as thus practised, +would be of the utmost service to the Easy Chair's friend in Maiden +Lane. The shops there are pretty, and especially during the holidays +they are glittering, but they are a little cold and formal. The air of +the Boulevards is to be detected only in the neighborhood of Corporal +Thompson's Broadway Cottage. Whether cravats are there wafted around +the buyer's neck, as it were, entangling him hopelessly in silken and +satin webs, the Easy Chair does not know. But it can believe it, as it +passes by upon the outside, and beholds the windows which Paris could +hardly surpass. Through those windows it sees that, as in Paris, the +attendants are often women. It is thereby reminded that in Paris the +women are among the most accomplished accountants also; and it +remembers that in the same city men are cooks. It is very sure that +when Madame Welles, who was afterwards the Marchioness De Lavalette, +became at the death of her husband the head of the great +banking-house, her cook was a man. + +And thereupon the Easy Chair falls into meditation upon "the sphere" +of the sexes, and asks itself, as it loiters about the site of the +Broadway Cottage, admiring the pretty shops, whether, if it be womanly +for woman to keep shop and to acquire property by her faithful +industry, it can be manly for man to make laws appropriating and using +her property without her consent? + + + + +MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN. + + +Mrs. Grundy was lately astonished by the remark of a cheerful +cosmopolitan whom she proposed to introduce to a very rich man. She +seemed to catch her breath as she spoke of his exceeding great riches +in the tone of admiring awe which betrays the devout snob. The +cosmopolitan listened pleasantly as Mrs. Grundy spoke with the air of +proposing to him the greatest of favors and blessings. + +"You say he is very rich?" he asked. + +"Enormously, fabulously," replied Mrs. Grundy, as if crossing herself. + +"Will he give me any of his money?" + +Mrs. Grundy gazed blankly at the questioner. "Give you any of his +money? What do you mean?" + +"Mean?" answered the cheerful cosmopolitan; "my meaning is plain. If I +am introduced to a scholar, he gives me something of his scholarship; +a traveller gives me experience; a scientific man, information; a +musician plays or sings for me; and if you introduce me to a man whose +distinction is his riches, I wish to know what advantage I am to gain +from his acquaintance, and whether I may expect him to impart to me +something of that for which he is distinguished." + +Mrs. Grundy, who is easily discomposed by an unexpected turn in the +conversation, looked confused, but said, presently, "Why, you will +dine with the Midases and the Plutuses." + +"But they are merely the same thing," said the cosmopolitan, gayly. +"You know the story: Mr. and Mrs. MacSycophant, Miss MacSycophant, +Miss Imogen MacSycophant, Mr. Plantagenet MacSycophant, Miss Boadicea +MacSycophant--and more of the same. One MacSycophant is as good as +twenty, Mrs. Grundy; and as I know the Midases already, and find them +amusingly dull, why should I know the Plutuses, who are probably even +duller?" + +Mrs. Grundy looked as if transfixed. + +"Oh," continued the cosmopolitan, laughing, "I do not deny that money +is an excellent thing. I am glad that I am not in want of it. But it +is a dangerous thing to handle. If you don't manage it well it exposes +you terribly. Great riches are like an electric light--like a noonday +sun; they reveal everything. If a man stands in a ridiculous attitude, +or is clad scantily, the intense light displays him remorselessly to +every beholder. Great riches do the same. I saw you at the Midases', +dear Mrs. Grundy. Did you ever see a more sumptuous entertainment or a +more splendid palace? What pictures and statues and vases! what +exquisite and costly decoration! what gold and glass! what Sevres and +Dresden! But the more I admired the beautiful works of art, the more I +thought of the enthusiasm and devotion of the artist, the more I was +touched by the grace and delicacy of color and form around me; and the +more I heard Midas talk, the more clearly I saw that he did not see, +or feel, or understand anything of the real value and significance of +his own _entourage_. The more beautiful it was, the more plainly it +displayed his total want of perception of beauty. + +"His house is a magnificent museum. It is full of treasures. But they +all dwarf and deride him. They are so many relentless lights turned on +to show how completely he is not at home in his own house. He is as +much out of place among them as a horse in a studio. He has all the +proper books of a gentleman's library, and all superbly bound. What +does he know about them? He never read a book. He has marvellous +pictures. What does he know of pictures? He doesn't know whether +Gainsborough was a painter or a potter, or whether Giotto was a Greek +or a Roman. He has books and pictures merely because he has money +enough to buy them, and because it is understood that a fine house +should have a library and a gallery. Is it otherwise with his glass +and porcelain? What do you think that he could tell you of Dresden +china--its history, its masters, its manufacture? You say that very +few people could tell you much about it. Granted; but if a man +surrounds himself with it, and forces it upon your attention, you have +a right not only to ask such questions, but to expect answers. + +"My dear Mrs. Grundy, when I was a young man on my travels, and was +introduced at a London club, the porter, or the major-domo, or the +door-keeper, or whatever he was, seemed to me like a peer of the +realm. He was faultlessly dressed, and he had most tranquil manners. +Well, our good friend Midas is that gentleman. He is the curator of a +fine museum. He opens the door to a well-furnished club. But he is in +no proper sense master of his house. The master of such a house, as +Goethe said of the picture-owner, is the man to whom you can say, +'Show me the best.' Poor Midas could only show us the costliest. Eh, +Mrs. Grundy?" + +That excellent lady's eyes had expanded, during these remarks, until +they were fixed in a round, stony stare at the cheerful cosmopolitan. + +"And this, you see, my good lady, is the reason that all this display +is called vulgar. It represents nothing but money. It does not +represent taste, or intelligence, or talent, in the possessor, and the +sole relation between him and his possessions is his ability to pay +for them. You drink his superior wines. But even you, Mrs. Grundy, are +not quite sure that he could distinguish between the finest madeira +and a common sherry. That is no fault, surely, but there is a great +difference between wines. + +"When you kindly offer to present me to a gentleman of whom you can +say only that he is very rich, and I ask you if he will give me some +of his money, you look surprised and shocked. But I am not a +misanthrope, and I ask a question which you can answer affirmatively. +He will give me some of his money in giving me some of the pleasure +which is derivable from what his money buys. For that I am grateful. I +tip the custode with my sincere thanks. I bow to the door-keeper with +hearty acknowledgment. I shall go again and again with great pleasure. +But I shall not make the singular mistake of supposing that he bears +the same relation to his possessions that the musician bears to his +music, and the scholar to his knowledge, and the traveller to his +shrewd observation. + +"You think that I am basely looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not at +all. I am only declining to believe the porter to be a peer of the +realm merely because he wears a white cravat and has tranquil manners. +If Midas is a dull man, all the money in the world does not make him +interesting. But if he has accumulated beautiful and interesting +things, I shall gladly go to his house and see them. Now, my dear Mrs. +Grundy, that is very different from going to his house to see the +Plutuses. They are not the possessions that make his house desirable. +My young friend Hornet says that if the only way to drink Midas's +gold-seal Johannisberger is to take Mrs. Plutus down to dinner, he +will not hesitate to pay the price, as he is willing to pay the price +of sea-sickness if he wishes to see the Vatican. Does my dear Mrs. +Grundy comprehend?" + +--But the good lady was gone. She could draw but one conclusion from +such a strain of remark about people with fabulous incomes. The +cheerful cosmopolitan must have been dining with Mr. Midas, and must +have sat much too long at table. What a pity that so pleasant a man +should permit himself such excesses! There was, however, but one +course for a self-respecting woman to pursue--Mrs. Grundy had left him +alone. + + + + +DICKENS READING. [1867.] + + +When, hereafter, some chance traveller picks up this odd number of an +old magazine and opens to this very page, let him know that the +evening of Dickens's first reading in New York was bright with +moonlight veiled in a soft gray snow-cloud. The crowd at the entrance +was not large. The speculators in tickets were not troublesome, +because all the tickets had been long sold. The police, as usual, were +polite and efficient; and going up the steep staircase, and passing +through the single door, we were all quietly and pleasantly seated by +eight o'clock. The floor of Steinway Hall is level, so that the +audience is lost to itself; but it was easy for all of us to perceive, +by scanning our neighbors, that we were a very fine body of people. At +least everybody who was present said so. We all remarked that the +intelligence and distinction of the city were present, and that it +must be extremely gratifying to Mr. Dickens to be welcomed by the most +intellectual and appreciative audience that could be assembled in New +York. + +The details of the arrangement upon the platform, the screen behind, +the hidden lights above and below, and the stiff little table with the +water-bottle, are familiar. But as we all sat looking at them, and at +the variously splendid toilets that rustled in, and fluttered, and +finally settled, it was not possible to escape the great thought that +in a few moments we should see at that queer, stiff table the creator +of Sam Weller, and Oliver Twist, and Micawber, and Dick Swiveller, and +the rest of the endless, marvellous company--the greatest story-teller +since Scott, one of the most famous names in literature since +Fielding. When he was here before Carlyle growled in _Past and +Present_ about "Schnauspiel, the distinguished novelist," and there +were some who laughed. But the laugh has passed by.--Look! There is a +man, who looks like somebody's "own man," who scuffles across the +stage and turns up a burner or two; and he is scarcely out of the way +when--there he comes, rapidly, in full evening dress, with a heavy +watch-chain, and a nosegay in his button-hole, the world's own man. + +His reception was sober. The whole audience clapped its gloved hands. +Not a heel, not a cane, mingled with the sound, not a solitary voice. +It was a very muffled cordiality, an enthusiasm in kid gloves. The +Easy Chair, for one, longed to rise and shout. Heaven has given us +voices, brethren, with which to welcome and salute our friends, and if +ever a long, long cheer should have rung from the heart, it was when +the man who has done so much for all of us stood before us. But it was +useless. The steady clapping was prolonged, and Dickers stood calmly, +bowing easily once or twice, and waiting with the air of one ready to +begin business. + +The instant there was silence he did begin: "Ladies and gentlemen, I +am to have the honor of reading to you this evening the trial-scene +from Pickwick, and a Christmas Carol in a prelude and three scenes. +Scene first, Marley's Ghost. Marley was dead, to begin with." These +words, or words very similar, were spoken in a husky voice, not +remarkable in any way, and with the English cadence in articulation, a +rising inflection at the end of every few words. They were spoken with +perfect simplicity, and the introductory description was read with +good sense, and conveyed a fine relish upon the reader's part of the +things described. There was nothing formal, no effort of any kind. The +left hand held the book, the right hand moved continually, slightly +indicating the action described, as of putting on a muffler, or +whatever it might be. But the moment Scrooge spoke the drama began. + +Every character was individualized by the voice and by a slight change +of expression. But the reader stood perfectly still, and the instant +transition of the voice from the dramatic to the descriptive tone was +unfailing and extraordinary. This was perfection of art. Nor was the +evenness of the variety less striking. Every character was indicated +with the same felicity. Of course the previous image in the hearer's +mind must be considered in estimating the effect. The reader does not +create the character, the writer has done that; and now he refreshes +it into unwonted vividness, as when a wet sponge is passed over an old +picture. Scrooge, and Tiny Tim, and Sam Weller and his wonderful +father, and Sergeant Buzfuz, and Justice Stareleigh have an intenser +reality and vitality than before. As the reading advances the spell +becomes more entrancing. The mind and heart answer instantly to every +tone and look of the reader. In a passionate outburst, as in Bob +Cratchit's wail for his lost little boy, or in Scrooge's prayer to be +allowed to repent, the whole scene lives and throbs before you. And +when, in the great trial of Bardell against Pickwick, the thick, fat +voice of the elder Weller wheezes from the gallery, "Put it down with +a wee, me Lerd, put it down with a wee," you turn to look for the +gallery and behold the benevolent parent. + +Through all there is a striking sense of reserved power, and of +absolute mastery of the art. There is no straining for points, no +exaggeration, no extravagance, but an instinctive and adequate outlay +of means for every effect, and a complete preservation of personal +dignity throughout. The enjoyment is sincere and unique; and when the +young gentleman before us remarks to the flossy young woman at his +side that "any clever actor can do the thing as well," we congratulate +him inwardly upon his experience of the theatre. Perhaps, also, the +flossy young woman is of opinion that any clever author can write as +well as this reader. + +There is a serious drawback to this first evening's enjoyment, +however, and that is that fully a third of those present hear very +imperfectly. Nothing can surpass the air of mingled indignation, +chagrin, and disappointment with which a severe lady just behind +declares that she did not hear a word, and adds, caustically, that the +spectacle alone is hardly worth the money. Not worth the money? Dear +Madam, the Easy Chair would willingly pay more than the price of +admission merely to see him. And just as he is thinking so another +friend leans forward and says, in a decided tone of utter +disappointment, "Just let me take your glass, will you? I can't hear a +word, but I should like to see how the man looks." As the Easy Chair +passes out of the door he encounters Mr. and Mrs. Sealskin, sailing +smoothly and silently out. "How delightful!" exclaims the innocent and +unwary Chair. "Didn't hear a word," says Mr. Sealskin, sententiously, +and without pausing in his course; and Madam upon his arm raises her +eyebrows and looks emphatically "not a word!" So the Easy Chair +gradually discovers that there has been a very wide and lamentable +disappointment, and that a large part of the throng has been +tantalized through the evening in the vain effort to hear--catching a +few words and losing the point of the joke. No wonder they are very +sober, and sail out of the hall very steadily, with an air of thinking +that they have been victims, but also with the plain wish to think as +well of Mr. Charles Dickens as circumstances will allow. Still, they +evidently hold him, upon the whole, responsible, just as an audience +assembled to hear a lecture, and obliged to go unlectured away, holds +the lecturer--chafing in a snow-bank upon the railroad fifty miles +away--responsible for its disappointment. It is pleasant for the +Sealskins to read, as the Easy Chair did the next morning, in the +ever-veracious and independent press, that Mr. Dickens's voice is +heard with ease in every part of the hall. + +But let them feel as they may, those who did not hear are sure to go +again, and if they hear the next time, again and again. Let the future +reader of this odd number of a magazine learn further that such was +the popular eagerness to attend these readings that people gathered +before light to stand in the line of the ticket-office. One historic +boy is said to have passed the night in the cold waiting for the +opening of the office, and to have sold his prize for thirty dollars +in gold to "a Southerner." Another person was offered twenty dollars +for his place in the line, with merely a chance of getting a ticket +when his turn came at the office. + +The interest was unabated to the end, and under the personal spell of +the enchanter that old ill-feeling towards the author of _American +Notes_ and the creator of Chuzzlewit melted away. And why not? Do we +not all know our Yankee brother of whom Dickens told us, who has a +huge note of interrogation in each eye, and can we blame the +Englishman for using his own eyes? Is not that silent traveller whom +he saw still to be seen in every train sucking the great ivory head of +his cane and taking it out occasionally and looking at it to see how +it is getting on? If we had been a little angry with Lemuel Gulliver +or Robinson Crusoe, could our anger have survived hearing one of them +tell his story of Liliput, or the other the tale of the solitary +island? + +After his little winter tour Dickens returned to New York to take +leave of the American public. On the Saturday evening before the final +reading the newspaper fraternity gave him a dinner at Delmonico's, +which was then at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fourteenth Street, +formerly the hospitable house of Moses H. Grinnell. At this dinner Mr. +Greeley presided, and that the bland and eccentric teetotaler, who was +not supposed to be versed in what Carlyle called the "tea-table +proprieties," should take the chair at a dinner to so roistering a +blade--within discreet limits--and so skilled an artist of all kinds +of beverages as Dickens, was a stroke of extravaganza in his own way. +The dinner was in every way memorable and delightful, but the +enjoyment was sobered by the illness of the guest from one of the +attacks which, as was known soon afterwards, foretold the speedy end. +It was, indeed, doubtful if he could appear, but after an hour he came +limping slowly into the room on the arm of Mr. Greeley. + +In his speech, with great delicacy and feeling, Dickens alluded to +some possible misunderstanding, now forever vanished, between him and +his hosts, and declared his purpose of publicly recognizing that fact +in future editions of his works. His words were greeted with great +enthusiasm, and on the following Monday evening he read, at Steinway +Hall, for the last time in this country, and sailed on Wednesday. He +was still very lame, but he read with unusual vigor, and with deep +feeling. As he ended, and slowly limped away, the applause was +prodigious, and the whole audience rose and stood waiting. Reaching +the steps of the platform he paused, and turned towards the hall; +then, after a moment, he came slowly and painfully back again, and +with a pale face and evidently profoundly moved, he gazed at the vast +audience. The hall was hushed, and in a voice firm, but full of +pathos, he spoke a few words of farewell. "I shall never recall you," +he said, "as a mere public audience, but rather as a host of personal +friends, and ever with the greatest gratitude, tenderness, and +consideration. God bless you, and God bless the land in which I leave +you!" The great audience waited respectfully, wistfully watching him +as he slowly withdrew. The faithful Dolby, his friend and manager, +helped him down the steps. For a moment he turned and looked at the +crowded hall. It was full of hearts responding to his own. There was a +common consciousness that it was a last parting, and his fervid +benediction was silently reciprocated.--Then the door closed behind +him. + + + + +PHILLIS. + + +There is one lady in literature and in life whom all men are said, not +without gentle sarcasm if a woman says it, to wish especially to know. +She is declared to be the vision that haunts the youth as his heart +opens to the soft influences of love, and her figure, trim and +debonair, that allures the older fancy of the man who sits "alone and +merry at forty year," having seen his earlier Gillian and Marian and a +score more happily married. She is, in fact, the domestic magician, +the good fairy, the genius of home, the thoughtful, tactful, careful, +intelligent house-keeper, the very she whom Milton sings, introducing +us to + + "Herbs and other country messes + Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses." + +Her name is Phillis--not exactly a romantic name, nor, indeed, is it +meant by the poet to be a romantic name; for he has just before +sketched another kind of woman: + + "Towers and battlements it sees + Bosom'd high in tufted trees, + Where perhaps some beauty lies, + The cynosure of neighboring eyes." + +Such a cynosure could not possibly have been named Phillis: Artemis, +perhaps, or Hildegarde; Constance, Una, Mildred, or Cunigunda, but by +no possibility Phillis. That is a pastoral name, a shepherd's +sweetheart. Indeed, the two kinds of women are perfectly indicated and +distinguished in these lines of _L'Allegro_, which have no detail of +description. The impression of womanly difference is nowhere more +completely given. One picture is that of the lofty, haughty, "highborn +Helen," the superb Lady Clara Vere de Vere; the other is that of the +thrifty Baucis, the gardener Adam's wife. And the two are as near in +the young man's heart as they are in the poem. + +When Mr. William Guppy raised his eyes from the pit of the theatre to +Miss Esther Summerson sitting in the boxes, the "image imprinted on +his 'art" was that of the cynosure of neighboring eyes, stately among +stately towers and ancestral trees. But doubtless when Mr. William +Guppy, as lovers will, abandoned himself to blissful dreams of the +possible home that should grow out of his lofty passion, it was +another vision that he saw; it was the high-born Helen coming down to +breakfast in a sweet morning-cap, a neat-handed Phillis. For love, +which soars and sings, also builds its nest. The one instinct is as +deep and sure as the other. The cynosure of worshipping hearts and +eyes is but the romantic aspect of Phillis: and because she is so +lofty and so lovely will she be the miracle-worker in the household. +The secret sorrow of a thousand homes is that the lady of the towers +and battlements does not prove in fact to be also the neat-handed +Phillis. + +Indeed, it is a kind of national complaint and lamentation that the +neat-handed Phillis is disappearing altogether. This is the +significance of the servant-girl question. This is the root of the +alarming conviction that Phillis is changing into Biddy, whose fit +epithet is not neat-handed. This is the meaning of the cry for +bread--light, sweet, well-baked bread; not the clammy dough which is +served to a despairing land. This is the reason of the wondering +question, What has become of roast meat? and of the melancholy +conviction that henceforth baked beef is to replace the juicy sirloin +of tradition, history, and elegant literature. + +Of the accomplished and intelligent young women who honor the Easy +Chair at this moment with their attention, of course the immense +majority can broil a steak to a turn, or mix the airiest bread, or +boil potatoes as new-fallen snow. But there are some unfortunates who +cannot do it. Let us pity them. They would probably tell us that they +have not studied poetry and music, the French language, crochet, and +the Boston, to become kitchen drudges: and they will not fail to +remind us that Cinderella did not charm the prince as a kitchen-maid, +and that she had ceased to be Cinderbreech, and had emerged from the +chimney-corner when she married him. But will they please to curb +their wrath for a moment and listen to Dr. Clarke? "Unless men and +women both have brains, the nation will go down. As much brain is +needed to govern a household as to command a ship; as much to guide a +family aright as to guide a Congress aright; as much to do the least +and the greatest of woman's work as to do the least and the greatest +of man's work." + +Now, the dressing of messes by the neat-handed Phillis is one of the +important elements of governing a household; and the Princess +Cinderella was the better housewife because she had once been +Cinderbreech. Nelson was the better admiral because he had once been +cabin-boy. Dickens was the better story-teller because he had once +been reporter. If, indeed, Darby can afford to pay a hundred dollars +monthly to a _chef_, Joan need know nothing of messes; but how many +such Darbys are there? + +These remarks, or similar ones, have been often heard by the gentler +reader, and are somewhat familiar to her, not to say wearisome. "Oh +yes," she says, "I know all this: men want women in the family to be +angels and French cooks rolled into one. Heaven save the mark! Suppose +that women on their side were to expect men in the family to be heroes +and gentlemen as well as 'good providers?'" + +Well, madame, they ought to expect it and to insist upon it. Perhaps +you have played the little game of parlor magic? There are homes in +which that game is always played, and they are the happiest of all. In +them the real value of neatness and order, of thrift and taste and +temperance, is understood, and the Beauty who once lay lapped in lofty +towers knows that the romance which enshrined her amid those +battlements and tufted trees is preserved and forever refreshed by the +art of the neat-handed Phillis. And, madame, upon _his_ side _he_ does +not reverse the order of the story and of nature, and sink from the +Prince into the Beast. + + + + +THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE. + + +The last time that the Easy Chair saw that remarkable man, Henry +Thoreau, he came quietly into Mr. Emerson's study to get a volume of +Pliny's letters. Expecting to see no one, and accustomed to attend +without distraction to the business in hand, he was as quietly going +out, when the host spoke to him, and without surprise, and with +unsmiling courtesy, Thoreau greeted his friends. He seated himself, +maintaining the same habitual erect posture, which made it seem +impossible that he could ever lounge or slouch, and that made +Hawthorne speak of him as "cast-iron," and immediately he began to +talk in the strain so familiar to his friends. It was a staccato style +of speech, every word coming separately and distinctly, as if +preserving the same cool isolation in the sentence that the speaker +did in society; but the words were singularly apt and choice, and +Thoreau had always something to say. His knowledge was original. He +was a Fine-ear and a Sharp-eye in the woods and fields; and he added +to his knowledge of nature the wisdom of the most ancient times and of +the best literature. His manner and matter both reproved trifling, but +in the most impersonal manner. It was like the reproof of Pan's +statue. There seemed never to be any loosening of the intellectual +tension, and a call from Thoreau in the highest sense "meant +business." + +On the morning of which we are speaking the talk fell upon the +Indians, with whom he had a profound sympathy, and of whose life and +ways and nature he apparently had an instinctive knowledge. In the +slightly contemptuous inference against civilization which his remarks +left, rather than in any positively scornful tone, there was something +which rather humorously suggested the man who spoke lightly of the +equator, but with the difference that there would have been if the +light speaking had left a horrible suspicion of that excellent circle. +For Thoreau so ingeniously traced our obligations to the aborigines +that the claims of civilization for what is really essential palpably +dwindled. He dropped all manner of curious and delightful information +as he went on, and it was sad to see in the hollow cheek and the +large, unnaturally lustrous eye the signs of the disease that very +soon removed him from among us. Those who remember him, and were +familiar with his truly heroic and virtuous life, or those who +perceive in his works that spirit of sweetness and content which made +him at the last say that he was as happy to be sick as to be well, +will apply to him the words of his own poem in the first number of the +_Dial_: + + "Say not that Caesar was victorious, + With toil and strife who stormed the House of Fame; + In other sense this youth was glorious, + Himself a kingdom wheresoe'er he came." + +His talk of the Indians left an impression entirely unlike that of the +Cooper novel and the red man of the theatre. It was untouched by +romance or sentimentality. It made them a grave, manly race, +intimately familiar with nature, with a lofty scorn of feebleness. The +sylvan shade and the leafy realm and Arden and pastoral poetry were +wholly wanting in the picture he drew, quite as much as the theory +that they are vermin to be exterminated as fast as possible. He said +that the pioneers of civilization, as it is called, among the Indians +are purveyors of every kind of mischief. We graft the sound native +stock with a sour fruit, then denounce it bitterly and cut it down. +What was most admirable in Daniel Boone, he said, was his Indian +nature and sympathy; and the least admirable part was his hold, such +as it was, upon civilization. He seemed to imply that if Boone could +only have succeeded in becoming an Indian altogether, it would have +been a truly memorable triumph. Thoreau acknowledged that the Indian +was not only doomed, but, as he gravely said, damned, because his +enemies were his historians; and he could only say, "Ah, if we lions +had painted the picture!" + +The sylvan idea of Daniel Boone would probably have been very rudely +shattered could he have been actually seen; and Thoreau's Indian was +certainly not visible in the stories of men of his time who had passed +weeks among the Indians upon the plains. The pioneers, like Boone, are +not romantic; their life is a hard toil and struggle; they are +ignorant, rude, and even repulsive. This is natural, because their +real work is that of the subsoil plough and the harrow. They lay the +strong foundations. Without them, no soft waving field of golden +harvest, no velvet lawn, no Palladian villa, no flower of art and +culture--in a word, no progress, as we call it--however the shade of +Thoreau may implacably smile. So when the Lady Cavaliere whispered +from under her beaded veil, "Don't speak of it, but I am tired to +death of reformers," it was only the artist's impatience of the +ploughman; it was Rupert and his men not only sneering at Praise God +Bare-bones, and singing their mock prayer in the Lenten litany, + + "That it may please thee to suppose + Our actions are as good as those + That gull the people through the nose," + +but heartily believing Cromwell and his men to be canting hypocrites. + +And yet the Lady Cavaliere is too well informed not to know that it +was not the silken chivalry who planted the king's standard and +defended it with all heroism, in whose praise the poets sang, who are +still the heroes of romance, and whose life had the charm of grace and +ease and accomplishment and _savoir faire_, that saved England and a +great deal more. The lady has sauntered through the palaces where the +Vandyck portrait of the king hangs upon the walls, the handsome, +melancholy Stuart. She looked at it secretly, perhaps, with something +of the same feeling that men think of the hapless Mary, as we call +her. What a gentleman! how refined! how sad! how agreeable to the +fancy! Yes, dear lady, and what a liar! how false-hearted! who would +have had his own foolish way whatever happened to other men! He would +have gratified your taste to the utmost; you would never have said +under your breath, "How I hate reformers!" he would have, perhaps, +carried your imagination and taste against your conscience and +judgment. And it is for that very reason--because taste and +imagination are so subtly seductive--that it is essential to challenge +them. St. Anthony did not mind the devil as a dragon; but the devil as +a siren--ah! how hard St. Anthony had to pray! + +Change is apt to present itself first in its unhandsome aspect. You +would much rather hear a lute in the moonlight upon the lawn, and +behold! a coarse plough and a frightful harrow. Yet, so lutes and +lawns begin. You like the smooth music of a silken court, the +picturesque ceremony, the poetic tradition, the perfume, the splendor, +and lo! a troop in jerkin pricking to the fray in horrible earnest, +and blood, and ghastly wounds, and torture, and merciful death! Yet, +so courts and ceremonies are instituted. One of the hardest battles +that reform has to fight is this battle in the air--so to speak: this +contest with taste and imagination that cling to the myriad-hued moss +and the delicate vine fringe upon the ogre's castle, and that find the +donjon so much more picturesque than the house. + +A cause is seen through its pioneers, and taste and imagination are +confused and confounded in the medium. A nature like Falkland's could +not see liberty clearly even through John Pym--how much less through +nasal psalm-singing butchers and brewers building a scaffold for the +king. So, in our own time, the great question that so sorely rent us +was seen by taste and imagination in the form of delicate, +highly-cultured women, of a superficial tranquil elegance of society, +of patriarchal tradition, of easy knowledge of the world, and the +smooth habit of society upon the one hand; and upon the other, often +in the form of a queer medley of grotesque people, each more +extravagant than the other, and uttering the wildest sentiments in the +most absurd rhetoric. The Lady Cavaliere has not forgotten that the +last retreat of the doomed system was the salon and the boudoir, where +taste is law, and where decorous immorality is not unwelcome. + +By-and-by, when the reform is established and has become traditional, +its pioneers become heroic and poetic. The Norman robber is then +discovered to be a kind of blue-blooded gentleman, or at least the +sturdy, aboriginal father of gentlemen. The rough and half-savage +Boone is the ideal frontiersman, with a smack of Arden and the sylvan +realm. And as for the coarse-toothed harrow--as my Lady Cavaliere sits +upon the porch and sees the peacock unfolding his glory upon the soft, +thick sward, do you see that my lady wears a delicate trinket around +her swan neck, and lo! it is a harrow exquisitely wrought in gold. + +The feeling with which she breathed through her beaded veil her +dislike of pioneer reformers is as old as human nature. But it was not +the sigh of wisdom, but of weariness, in my lady. There is a certain +insight even in gentle youth which does not recoil from the pioneer, +and foresees the soft sward springing under the harrow as it tears the +heavy clods. Those in whom youth abides never outgrow that precious +insight and foresight. One such, not less fair than my Lady Cavaliere, +of the most tranquil and undemonstrative behavior, has long been to +how many good causes one of the most valuable and efficient friends. +She has not cared that Daniel Boone should recede into poetic distance +before he seemed to her a hero. In his cabin as he smoked, in the hard +winter day as he felled the forest tree, in the rough, unhandsome +experience of every hour, he has been to her the forerunner of +refinement and plenty and ease. If taste and imagination shrink from +the squalor of the frontier, she remembers the greater squalor and the +darker tragedy of the city slum. If the long-haired, shambling, shrill +fanatic upon the platform be a contemptuous jest to my Lady Cavaliere, +this fairer lady remembers John clad in goat-skins and crying in the +wilderness. I wish, she says, that mankind might sit at a sumptuous +table, but I shall not scoff at the wooden spoon that feeds its +hunger. She hangs one picture upon her wall: it is Christ sitting at +meat with publicans and sinners. And so season after season, year +after year, she carries her sympathy, her hope, her steady faith to +all the pioneers. She is not a poet, but the world is to her +enchanted. Under the sharp voice of the reformer she hears the music +of the harmony which he discordantly foretells. With the distorted +eyes of the ill-disciplined, ignorant enthusiast she beholds the +symmetry of the future towards which he looks. In turn, the reformer +and the enthusiast behold in her and vaguely comprehend the outward +charm of beauty and grace and high condition which they blindly +announce. It is as if Daniel Boone, shaggy and savage, suddenly saw +his cabin and his rude clearing glorified: a stately, hospitable +mansion, overlooking a placid landscape of rounded groves and blooming +gardens and distant parks, murmuring with the song of birds and all +domestic sounds. Her service to a good cause is more than eloquence, +more than devotion--it is the perpetual presence of its ideal. + +There were plenty of Lords and Ladies Cavaliere who were tired to +death of that solemn enthusiast and bore, Columbus. But when he saw +the shore of San Salvador he must have recalled that he had long ago +seen it in the patient faith of any unknown friend who had always +hoped for him and believed with him. The Lady Cavaliere who thinks +Daniel Boone in early Kentucky, or Christopher Columbus pacing the +shore and ceaselessly looking westward, the most romantic of figures, +does not know that she sneered at both when she whispered, "I am tired +to death of reformers." + + + + +HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS. + + +A man who is easily discouraged, who is not willing to put the good +seed out of sight and wait for results, who desponds if he cannot +obtain everything at once, and who thinks the human race lost if he is +disappointed, will be very unhappy if he persists in taking a part in +politics. There is no sphere in which self-deception is easier. A man +with a restless personal ambition is very apt to believe his own +purposes to be public ends, and he finds his party to be recreant to +its principles if he fails to get what he wants. A young man comes +from college carefully trained, with the taste for politics which +belongs to the English race, and with the wish and hope to distinguish +himself and to serve his country. He attaches himself to a party, and +works for it in the usual way, waiting for his opportunity and his +distinction. Gradually the gratification of his ambition becomes his +test of the patriotic sincerity and wisdom of his party. He does not +think that it is so. He does not state it to himself in that bald way. +But he feels that he is the kind of man that his party ought to +promote, that he has the capacity and the desire to be of use, and +that if his party has not perceptions sharp enough to know its own +best men, nor the wish to distinguish them by calling them to office, +there is something deplorable in its condition. + +"I am afraid," said a gentleman of this kind to the Easy Chair, "that +my party is falling into bad hands. I see signs of corruption which +seem to me very disheartening." He shook his head forebodingly. This +gentleman did not conceal his opinion. He announced it freely, and the +rumor came to the ears of the real managers of the party. They put +their heads together, and presently the foreboding gentleman was +called to a public position. Again the Easy Chair met him, and he said +that the political prospect was very much more encouraging than he had +ever known it to be. There was a spirit abroad, he thought, which +would certainly lead to great results. Indeed, the clouds were gone, +and the sun shone brightly. + +At another time another gentleman shook his head in the same way. He +held a pleasant position, but he found that promotion was very slow, +and he began to despond and to think the times sadly demoralized, and +his party--at least he feared it--fatally mercenary. It was evidently +indifferent to reform, and seemed to care little for the wishes of the +people or the character of the country. He, too, shook his head with +profound distrust of the future; and the Easy Chair fell into deep +depression, and wondered whether, after all, a republican form of +government might not be a failure. Before it was possible to say so +conclusively, however, the Chair heard that his friend had decided to +seek reform and the welfare of the race "under the banner" of the +opposing party. And again, while considering whether all patriots +ought not to follow so eminent an example, it learned that the +desponding soul who had had the courage to face obloquy and change his +party relations had only done so after prolonged and fruitless efforts +to secure official place under his old party. Had he obtained it that +party would still have seemed to him resolute, patriotic, and +discerning, and he would have continued to serve his country in the +association to which he had become accustomed. + +There is no South American general who overthrows a government and +enthrones himself as dictator upon the ruins who does not announce +with imposing solemnity that the old system was intolerable, and that +the interests of humanity and the country required him to do as he had +done. Not one of them was ever known to declare that he had destroyed +the old government because he wished to be the government himself. The +two friends of the Easy Chair had sincerely sophisticated themselves, +and identified their personal advantage and wishes with the public +interest. If they had told the precise truth they would have said that +they wanted office, and if they could not get it from one party they +would try another. When a man is conscious of a strong desire and of +great ability to serve the public, this kind of sophistication is +easy. That which should make a generous man suspicious under such +circumstances is that he confounds official position with public +service. The latter, indeed, is in a sense a technical phrase; but a +man may equally serve the public unofficially by taking his part in +the necessary and disagreeable details of practical politics. If he +will not do this he must share the responsibility of bad government. + +Yet here, again, he must not be discouraged if his efforts appear to +be abortive and the results ridiculous. The secret of a republic seems +abstractly to be very simple, for it is merely that all good men shall +act together and elect good officers. But good men cannot act together +if they do not think together, and the best method of obtaining +results which all desire is the very problem of politics. All good men +cannot act together, therefore, because good men differ. But even the +good men who agree cannot easily and simply have their way, because +political measures can be secured only by organization, and the +organization, or the machine by which the result is to be attained, +may very readily fall into crafty or corrupt hands, which will use the +sincerity and pure purpose of better men to serve base and mercenary +ends. The first of the two friends of the Easy Chair was used in this +manner. He was sincere and pure, but he was vain, and therefore weak, +and the clever managers hit him in the heel. + +Again, a man may be wholly free of weakness or vanity, and, without +the least personal wish or ambition in public life, may take part in +politics solely from a commanding sense of duty, and yet find himself +and his efforts not only unavailing for his own purposes, but +ludicrously and hopelessly perverted to serve those of others. +Honestus was such a man: in the truest sense a patriot in feeling, yet +he confessed that he had hitherto neglected his political duties, but +declared that henceforth he would lose no opportunity of correcting +his conduct. He saw with joy the notice of an approaching primary +meeting, and when the evening arrived he hastened to the hall with the +pleasing consciousness that he was discharging a great public duty. He +reached the hall, and was heartily welcomed by the observant managers, +whom, had Titbottom's spectacles been at hand, he would have seen to +be foxes--at least. They were very glad indeed to see Honestus and men +like him engaging in politics. They saw in that fact the augury of a +better day. It was a peculiar pleasure to co-operate with him, and +they trusted that this was but the beginning of a good habit upon his +part. Honestus could not help thinking how easy it was to exaggerate, +and to suppose men to be a great deal worse than they are, and +wondered that he had never before taken the trouble--or, rather, +fulfilled the duty--of attending the primary meeting. + +The proceedings began, and he was exceedingly interested. Officers +were appointed, and it was evident from their speeches that nothing +but honesty and economy was to be sought, and only men of the most +spotless character nominated. But it was necessary to have a committee +upon nominations; and to his surprise and gratification Honestus heard +his own name mentioned as one of the committee, and almost blushed as +he was appointed its chairman. The committee was requested to +withdraw, and to report the names of candidates as soon as possible. + +Honestus and his colleagues therefore retired to a dim +passage-way--where, as he subsequently remarked, he should have been +rather alarmed to meet either of them at night and alone--and business +began. Various names were mentioned, of which, unfortunately, Honestus +had never heard one; and at length one of the most positive of the +committee said, emphatically, that, upon the whole, Sly was the very +man for the place. There was a general murmur of assent and +satisfaction. Honestus heard on every side that it was "just the +thing;" that Sly was "an A1 boy," and that he was "always there;" he +was also "square," and "right up to the line;" and by common consent +Sly seemed to be the Heaven-appointed candidate. + +Rather disturbed by his total ignorance of this conspicuous public +character, Honestus turned to his neighbor and said, guardedly, with +the air of a man who was musing upon Sly's qualifications, "Oh, +Sly--Sly?" + +"Yes," said his neighbor, "Sly." + +"Certainly," replied Honestus; "certainly. But--who--is--Sly?" + +His neighbor looked at him for a moment, and repeated the question in +a tone of incredulity--"_Who is Sly?_"--as if he had said, Who is +George Washington? + +"Yes; I don't think that I know him." + +"Don't know Sly?" + +"No." + +"Well, if you did know him, you'd know that he's just the man we want; +bang up; made for it." + +"Oh, is he?" + +"You bet--A1." + +"Well," said the member who had first announced that Sly was the very +man for the place, "I suppose they'll be waiting. I nominate Sly as +the candidate." + +The chairman said yes, but that, unfortunately for himself, he did not +know Mr. Sly. + +"Well, you don't know anything against him, do you?" asked the other. + +"Certainly not." + +"Well, we all know him, and he is the very man. We ought to hurry." + +Honestus put the question, and Sly was unanimously named as the +candidate to be reported to the meeting by the chairman. + +The meeting was already stamping and clapping and calling for the +committee, and the energetic mover of Sly said that it was necessary +to go in right away. The committee made for the hall, and the chairman +followed. He knew nothing of Sly nor of the people who had named him, +and he knew nobody else whom he could propose for the place. Honestus +felt very much as a leaf might feel upon the fall at Niagara, and in +the next moment the chairman of the meeting was asking him if the +committee were ready to report. The chairman of the committee bowed. +The chairman of the meeting said that the report would now be made. +Honestus stated that he was instructed to report the name of Sly. The +meeting roared. There was some thumping by the chairman, and Honestus +heard only the name of Sly and "by acclamation," and a whirlwind of +calls upon "Sly!" "Sly!" "Speech!" "Speech!" The next moment Sly, with +a large diamond pin, was upon the platform thanking and promising, and +the meeting was stormily cheering and adjourning _sine die_. + +Honestus walked quietly home, perceiving that the result of his +practical effort to discharge the primary duties of a citizen was that +Sly, one of the most disreputable and dishonest of public sharks, had +been nominated by a committee of which he was chairman, and that the +whole weight of the name of Honestus was thrown upon the side of +rascality with a diamond pin. And he reflected that in politics, as +elsewhere, it is necessary to begin as early in preparation for action +as the rascals. + +Yet he did not lose his faith, nor suppose that popular government is +a cheat and a snare, because he had been involuntarily made the +instrument of knaves. Honestus understands that good government is one +of the best things in the world, and he knows that good things of that +kind are not cheap. He is willing to pay the price, and the price is +the trouble to ascertain who Sly is, and the time to do his part in +defeating Sly. For Honestus knows that if he does not rule, Sly will. + + + + +THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS, 1871. + + +It was about fifteen years ago that Thalberg, who has just died only +fifty-nine years old, was in this country. Jenny Lind had been here +some years earlier, and Alboni and Grisi a little later, and +Vieuxtemps and Sivori and Ole Bull a dozen years before. Jullien, with +his monster orchestra, had given monstrous concerts in the monstrous +hall of Castle Garden, and many a musician of less fame had come to +try his fortune. But we had had neither of the acknowledged masters of +the piano, the founders of the modern school of playing--Liszt and +Thalberg. Liszt, spoiled and capricious, played very seldom. Chopin, +more a composer than a performer, we in America had never supposed +would cross the sea: so sensitive, so delicate, so shadowy, his life +seemed to exhale, a passionate sigh of music. In the stormy, +blood-soaked, ruined Paris of to-day it is not easy to imagine those +evenings at the Prince Czartoryski's, when Chopin played in the +moonlight the mazurkas and polonaises and waltzes which moonlight or +dreams seem often to have inspired, but through which the proud +movement of the old Polish dance and song triumphantly rings. + +In George Sand's _Letters of a Traveller_ Chopin also appears, but +sadly and hopelessly. What Xavier de Maistre says of the Fornarina and +Raphael is the undertone of all the passages of the book that speak of +Chopin--"She loved her love more than her lover." Then came the burial +at the Madeleine, with his own funeral march beating time to his +grave. The mere pianist who had aroused the most enthusiasm in this +country was Leopold de Meyer, who came more than twenty years ago. His +was a blithe, exhilarating style. There was a grotesque little plaster +cast of him in the shop-windows at the time, representing him +crouching over the instrument, with enormous hands spread upon the +keyboard, and his fat knees crowding in to cover all the rest of the +space. It was slam-bang playing, but so skilful, and with such a +tickling melody, that it was irresistibly popular. His "Marche +Marocaine," a brilliant _tour de force_, was always sure to captivate +the audience; and his success was indisputable. + +De Meyer's concerts were sometimes given in the old Tabernacle in +Broadway, near Leonard Street, the circular church which for so many +years was the chief public hall in the city. The platform was almost +in the centre, and the aisles radiated from it. The galleries went +quite around the building, and, except for the huge columns which +supported a dome, it was convenient both for hearing and seeing. Here +were some of the great antislavery meetings in the hottest days of the +agitation. The anniversaries were held here, and it was the scene of +all popular lectures and of concerts. A few blocks above, upon +Broadway, near Canal Street, was the old Apollo Hall, where the first +Philharmonic concerts took place. In those early days of the German +music--days which followed the City Hotel epoch and the Garcia +opera--people were so unaccustomed to the proprieties of the +concert-room that the Easy Chair has even known some persons to +whisper and giggle during the performance of the finest symphonies of +Beethoven and Mozart, and so excessively rude as to rustle out of the +hall before the last piece was ended. + +Upon one such occasion it said to its neighbor, as they were coming +out: + +"It is a pity such ill-mannered people should thrust themselves among +ladies and gentlemen." + +"Ill-mannered!" quoth its neighbor; "I assure you they are carriage +company from the neighborhood of Union Square." + +In these days of universal respectful attention at the Philharmonic +concerts it is but a curious reminiscence of long-passed boorishness, +this of persons who whispered and giggled, and rustled out before the +end, at concerts, to the disturbance of all mannerly people. + +As the city grew the concerts came up-town, and were for some time +given at Niblo's concert-room. But, wherever they were, one person was +for many years constantly familiar, sometimes as general director, +sometimes as pianist to accompany singing, always modest, courteous, +and efficient, a man widely and most kindly remembered--Henry C. Timm. +Like most of our musical benefactors, he was a German, and gave +lessons in piano-playing. He was not one of the great virtuosos, but +his touch was delicate and nimble, and he had a sincere love of his +art. Often and often, at a house always pleasant from that +reminiscence, with the consent of parent and pupil, and to his own +great delight, the hour designed for the scholar's scales and +exercises was given to the master's playing. He was fond of Weber's +"Invitation to the Waltz," and he played it with force and precision +and the utmost delicacy. Mr. Timm had a pale, smooth, sharp face, a +rather prim manner, and a quick, modest gait. He was most +simple-hearted, and loved a joke; and his fun was all the more +effective from his very sober face and his lisp. It was his wife who +was long the most efficient actress at Mitchell's old Olympic in the +palmy days of burlesque. + +It was at Niblo's that Thalberg played. Many of the virtuosos had +been--like De Meyer--so extravagant in their action, and so evidently +what we now call "sensational," that there was great curiosity to see +the master whose name had been familiar since 1830, and famous since +1835, when he first played in Paris. The comparative estimate of the +two men, Liszt and Thalberg, was that the former was a player of +eccentric genius, the latter of consummate talent: a judgment which is +very apt to spring from a superficial theory that eccentricity is the +signet of genius. The long hair, the wild aspect of Paganini, did much +to confirm this feeling. + +At the concerts of Thalberg there were some preliminary performances, +and then a gentleman with side whiskers and no mustache, +unostentatiously dressed, entered upon the platform. His manner was +grave and tranquil, and he bowed respectfully as he seated himself at +the instrument. Immediately, without a flourish or grimace, steadily +and calmly watching the audience, he touched the piano, and it began +to sing. There was no pounding, no muscular contortion. Nothing but +his hands seemed to be engaged, and apparently without effort they +exhausted the whole force of the instrument. It was in every respect +except its great effectiveness the reverse of De Meyer's playing. The +effect, indeed, was astonishing. When the player arose, as quietly and +gravely as he had seated himself, there was a tumult of applause, to +which he bowed and tranquilly withdrew. + +The characteristic of his style is well known. It was a series of +harmonious combinations of all the resources of the key-board, through +which the melody was clearly articulated. It was by study and by long +practice only that he carried this method to its perfection. Thus in +one of his great fantasias, that from Mozart's "Don Giovanni," the +sentiment of the whole opera was reproduced. Perhaps you do not admire +brilliant variations upon a theme selected from the opera, but in this +performance you are affected by the passionate movement of the entire +work. It is a wonderful epitome. The same respect which he showed for +his audience and for himself, and which made him always a +self-possessed gentleman, he also had for his instrument. De Meyer +seemed to suppose that the full range and power of the piano could not +be developed except by grotesque methods. Other players treat it as if +impatient of its limitations, and resolved to make an orchestra of a +feeble key-board. But Thalberg instinctively apprehended the character +of the instrument, and respected its limitations as well as its +powers, and knew that its utmost resource was attainable by skilled +motion rather than by brute force. Therefore he played with his hands, +and not with his knees and his body. But the force of his fingers was +magical, and the volume of sound that followed was as great as any +player evoked. + +Thalberg was a player only, and not, in the sense of Chopin, a +composer. What are called his compositions are arrangements and +adaptations of themes from operas treated to develop them with all the +richness of the instrument. The originality is in the method of +instrumentation, and in this he was original, and is really the +founder of the present piano school. As a player his characteristic +was the cantabile--the singing quality; and this he had beyond all +players. The flowing sweetness of his style is indescribable. There +were many, indeed, who complained of a want of fire, and denied him +that passion without which no work of art is perfect. But it was +impossible to hear him play his fantasia from "Don Giovanni," for +instance, without perceiving all the passion of the original. Mozart +was not lost under his hands. And the impression of coldness was +largely due, doubtless, to the tranquillity and propriety of his +appearance and manner. + +The most generally popular of his successors at the piano in this +country was undoubtedly Gottschalk, who was here quite as early as +Thalberg, whose fame eclipsed all others. Upon his arrival Gottschalk +played privately at a small party. He was a foreign-looking youth, +with a peculiarly dull eye, and taciturn, but he was familiar with +every kind of music. When he was asked he played Chopin, and with +great skill. But his chief successes were his West Indian melodies, +which were full of picturesque suggestion. His execution was rapid, +brilliant, and forcible, but a great deal of his playing was too +evidently _tours de force_. It was always interesting to watch his +audience, when, upon being recalled, he began one of the West Indian +strains. There was a minor monotonous theme in them which fascinated +the listeners. They heard the beat of the tambourine, and saw the +movement of the dance, and with them all the characteristic scenery +and association of the tropics filled their imaginations. The languid +grace, the rich indolence, the gay profusion of the lands where the +banana grows, they felt and saw. + +How many admirable players and singers have come among us! And when, +as now, one drops through the bridge of Mirza, a host of Easy Chairs +pause for a moment to remember how many there were, and to delight in +thinking how many more there will be. Once it was the sailor who +crossed the sea to find El Dorado and Cathay, now it is the artist who +follows in the fascinating quest. But sailor and artist seeking gold +in far countries, like the pollen-powdered bee sucking honey in the +flowers, bring as rare a treasure as they find. + + + + +URBS AND RUS. + + +Mr. Tibs, who has an observing eye for many aspects of life, lately +informed the Easy Chair of his conclusion that there are some serious +objections to a suburban residence. This is a subject in which so many +intelligent and judicious readers of these pages are interested, that +the Easy Chair could not be indifferent to Mr. Tibs's conclusions. The +population which "sleeps out of town," which goes and comes daily to +and from the neighborhood of every great city in every part of the +country, is immense and increasing, and it has always rather an air of +lofty sympathy and pity for those who still cling to the "sweet +seclusion of streets." This is the more observable and amusing because +the denizens of town upon their part assume that their fellow-creatures +who resort to the country as a residence are mainly impelled by +motives of economy. For who would live out of town if he could live +comfortably in it? + +"You must find it very annoying to be tied to exact hours of trains +and boats," says Urbs to Rus, "and it is not the pleasantest thing in +the world to be obliged to pick your way through the river streets to +the ferry, or wait at stations. However, you probably calculated the +waste of time and the trouble before you decided to live in Frogtown." + +"Every choice has its inconveniences, undoubtedly," responds Rus, "but +I concluded that I preferred fresh air for my children to the +atmosphere of sewers and gas factories, and I have a prejudice for +breakfasting by sunlight rather than by gas. Then my wife enjoys the +singing of birds in the morning more than the cry of the milkman, and +the silence at night secures a sweeter sleep than the rattle of the +horse-cars. It is true that we have no brick block opposite, and no +windows of houses behind commanding our own. But to set off such +deprivations there are pleasant hills and wooded slopes and gardens. +They are not sidewalks, to be sure, but they satisfy us." + +"Yes, yes; I see," says Urbs. "We are more to be pitied than I +thought. If we must go out in the evening, we don't have the advantage +of stumbling over hummocks and sinking in the mud or dust in the dark; +we can only go dry-shod upon clean flagging abundantly lighted. Then +we have nothing but Thomas's orchestra and the opera and the bright +little theatre to console us for the loss of the frog and tree-toad +concert and the tent-circus. Instead of plodding everywhere upon our +own feet, which is so pleasant after running round upon them all day +in town, we have nothing but cars and stages at hand to carry us to +our own doors. I see clearly there are great disadvantages in city +life. If a friend and his wife drop in suddenly in the evening or to +dine, it is monstrously inconvenient to have an oyster-shop round the +corner whence to improvise a supper or a dinner. It would be so much +better to have nothing but the village grocery a mile or two away. The +advantages are conspicuous. I wonder the entire population of the city +doesn't go out to live in Frogtown." + +Rus always feels in secret that he is at a disadvantage so long as he +must go to town every day to attend to his business. He reasons +plausibly that the train or the boat is no more than the horse-car, +and he proves conclusively that he can be at his office within half an +hour of his friend who lives in Fiftieth Street. But his friend +irritatingly replies that on pleasant mornings he prefers not to take +the car. He walks down in the bright air and through the busy street. +With twinkling and triumphant eyes he invites Rus to do the same. + +Rus gayly replies that the sun is quite as bright upon green fields as +upon brick blocks or stone flagging, and the shifting panorama from +the car window is a lovely picture. Urbs assents, and adds that the +dust and cinders also give great zest to the enjoyment, and that +dragging through tunnels is full of delight and beauty. + +But the real sorrow that Rus feels has not yet been touched. It is the +grief which Mr. Tibs has observed and confided to the Easy Chair. It +haunts his happy hours with sad foreboding. He cannot look from his +window but he sees it. He cannot celebrate the charms of country and +suburban life but it seems to mock him. It turns his joy to ashes. He +looks upon the wife of his bosom with anguish as he thinks of it. He +gazes ruefully into his children's eyes; pretty innocents, they know +naught of the impending blow. It is a Shadow, as Thackeray would have +solemnly said, with Bulwerian impressiveness, which Pursues Him at Mid +Day. It Awakens Him at Mid Night, and Says to Him, Sleep No More! What +is it, do you ask? inquires Mr. Tibs, in his most startling manner. +Brethren, 'tis the fell hand of improvement. That is it. It is that +which harrows the suburban soul and destroys suburban peace. No man +who lives in the neighborhood of the city, or in any little +settlement, community, hamlet, thorp, village, or town which is +occupied with people doing business in the city, but is exposed in his +rural retirement, in his suburban home, to the ravages of improvement. + +There are suburban neighborhoods of New York which are said to be +subject to malaria, to fever and ague. It is false, as every denizen +of Bay Ridge and Flushing knows. There are others which are alleged to +be a prey to mosquitoes and chills. 'Tis a base fabrication, as every +Staten Islander and dweller by the Newark marshes is ready to swear. +It is notorious, and is established upon the very best authority, +namely, that of the inhabitants of the districts themselves, that no +shores are so salubrious as those of the bay of New York. Strict +justice, indeed, demands--and to nothing so much as strict justice and +truthfulness in these matters are the peaceful people of those shores +devoted--strict justice and truth demand that it should not be denied +that single, exceptional, but upon the whole sufficiently well +attested cases of malarial trouble have been known. But they were +always brought from abroad, probably from that losel Yankee-land from +which most of the woe of New York has proceeded. While, therefore, it +is a wanton calumny--and the corroboration of all suburban +property-holders is invited to the statement--to assert that any +portion of the neighborhood of New York, or of any other great city, +let it be Philadelphia, Chicago, or St. Louis, Boston, Baltimore, or +Savannah, is subject to malaria, or is otherwise than the true +sanitarium of the continent, yet it must be owned with sorrow that +every suburban region is infested with the spirit of improvement. + +Edwin and Angelina were married yesterday, and will devote their +honey-moon to the quest of a place in which to build their permanent +nest. They find it at last in the most delightful of suburban +neighborhoods. They build the pretty cottage. They spread out smooth +green lawns, and plant trees and shrubs, and hide themselves in +flowers. They have made a sweet sylvan seclusion, in which they sit +and smile at the eloquence of Urbs, who pities their exile and depicts +the charm of streets. Streets are charming, respond Edwin and Angelina +in connubial chorus, but we will have none of them. Fond, foolish +pair! For even at that moment the desolating spirit of improvement is +staking out a street across their most emerald lawn and through their +most sacred grove; their trees and flowers and turf are doomed, and +their seclusion is to be turned into a dusty highway. + +Suburban improvement is the ruthless devastator of home. There is no +remedy. To oppose the ruin of the place which you have carefully made, +which has grown around you in increasing beauty with the growth and +development of your family, which is associated with all that is +happiest in your life, and which is in some sort the flowering and +expression of yourself, is to be derided as withstanding the public +benefit and the advantage of those less fortunate than yourself. The +instinct of protecting the home that you have made is denounced as +sentimental selfishness, and the law steps forward, cuts down your +trees, plows up your lawn, lays a gutter under your window, destroys +your home, and hands you some dollars for what it calls compensation, +or demands them for what it styles improvement. + +I am of opinion, therefore, says Mr. Tibs, and the Easy Chair commends +the reflection to those intending matrimony and thinking of a country +home, that there are some serious objections to a suburban residence. + + + + +RIP VAN WINKLE. + + +Going the other evening to see "Rip Van Winkle," the old question of +its moral naturally came up, and Portia warmly asserted that it was +shameful to bring young children to see a play in which the exquisite +skill of Jefferson threw a glamour upon the sorriest vice. + +"See," she said, "the earnest, tearful interest with which these boys +and girls near us hang upon the story. The charm to them of the scene +and of the acting is indescribable. Do you suppose they can escape the +effect? All their sympathy is kindled for the good-natured and +good-for-nothing reprobate, and when Gretchen turns him out into the +night and the storm, they cannot help feeling that it is she, not he, +who has ruined the home, and that the drunken vagabond, who has just +made his endearments the cover of deception, is really the victim of a +virago. And when he returns, old and decrepit, and, we might hope, +purged of that fatal appetite which has worked all the woe, it is his +old victim, the woman whose youth his evil habits ruined, and who, in +consequence of those habits was driven into the power of the +tormentor, Derrick von Beekman, who hands him 'the cup that shall be +death in tasting,' as if it were she, and not he, who had been +properly chastened and converted from the fatal error of supposing +that drunkenness is not a good thing. + +"No, no," said Portia, indignantly and eloquently, raising her voice +to that degree that the Easy Chair feared to hear the appalling "'sh! +'sh!" of the disturbed neighbors; "it is a grossly immoral spectacle, +and the subtler and more fascinating the genius of Mr. Jefferson in +the representation, the more deadly is the effect." + +The drop had just fallen, and the scene on the mountains was about to +open. The house had been darkened, and as the clear, quiet, unforced +tone of Rip, yielding, not remonstrating, to the doom that we all knew +and he did not, fell upon the hushed audience, the eyes of men and +women were full of tears; while the orchestra murmured, _mezzo voce_, +during the storm within and without the house, the tenderly pathetic +melody of the "Lorelei:" + + "I know not what it presages, + This heart with sadness fraught; + 'Tis a tale of the olden ages + That will not from my thought." + +It was not easy to find in the emotion of that moment a response to +Portia's accusation of gross immorality. There was but a poetic figure +in the mind--the sweet-natured, weak-willed, simple-hearted vagabond +of the village and the mountain--touching the heart with pity, and, in +the drunken scene, with sorrow. This figure excludes all the rest. Its +symmetry and charm are the triumph of the play as acted. Now the +immorality can not lie in the kindly feeling for the tippling +vagabond, for that is natural and universal. Indeed, the same kind of +weakness that leads to a habit of tippling belongs often to the most +charming and attractive natures, and the representation of the fact +upon the stage is not in itself immoral. The immorality must be found, +if anywhere, as Portia insisted, in the charm with which vice is +invested. + +But is it so invested in this play? It used to be urged against +Bulwer's early novels that they made scoundrels fascinating, and that +boys after reading them would prefer rascals to honest men. If that +had been the fact, the novels would have been justly open to that +censure. But, tried by this standard, Rip Van Winkle, as Mr. Jefferson +plays it, is far from an immoral play. The picture as he paints it is +moral in the same sense that nature is moral. No man, shiftless, idle, +and drunken, afraid to go home, ashamed before his children, without +self-respect or the regard of others, however gentle and sweet, and +however much a favorite with the boys and girls and animals he may be, +is a man whose courses those boys will wish to imitate or who will +make vice more tasteful to them. The pathos of the second part of the +play, in which the change of age mingled with mystery is marvellously +portrayed, is largely due to the consciousness that this melancholy +end is all due to that woful beginning. The expulsion of Derrick and +his nephew is nothing, the happiness of Meenie and her lover is +nothing, the release of Gretchen is nothing, there is only a wasted +old man, without companions, the long prime of whose life has been +lost in unconsciousness, and who, suddenly awaking, looks at us +pitifully from the edge of the grave. + +By the most prosaic standards this should not seem to adorn vice with +attraction. It is true that the spectator is more interested in Rip +than in his wife, and that she is made a virago. But it is not his +drunkenness that charms, and her virtue is at least severe. Indeed, if +this performance is to be tried by this standard, the play must be +regarded as a temperance mission. For temperance is to be inculcated +upon the youthful spectators who sit near us not so much by stories +and pictures of the furious brute who drives wife and children from a +home made desolate by him, and who fly from him as from a demon, as by +this simple, faithful showing of the kind-hearted loiterer who makes +wretched a wife who yet loves him, and who denounces himself to the +child that he loves. This is the fair view of it as a picture of +ordinary human life. + +But, as we look, the low wail of the sad music is in our ears, the +scene changes to a weird world of faery, the story merges in a dream, +and Rip Van Winkle smiles at us from a realm beyond the diocese of +conscience. If conscience, indeed, will obtrude, conscience shall be +satisfied. It is a sermon if you will, but if you will, also, it is a +poem. + + + + +A CHINESE CRITIC. + + +The Easy Chair was agreeably surprised the other day by a call from a +yellowish-visaged gentleman in a queue, who announced himself as of +the family of Lien Chi Altangi, a name which the reader will recall as +that of the Chinese philosopher and citizen of the world whose letters +of observation in England were edited by Dr. Goldsmith. After the +natural courtesies of such a meeting, and the Easy Chair's compliments +upon the shrewdness and charm of his distinguished ancestor's +observations, the Chinese gentleman fell into easy conversation, and +was congratulated upon his singular familiarity with our language. He +remarked that it was always an advantage to a traveller to know the +language of the country, and he had no doubt that so travelling a +people as the American were of the same opinion. "And as you travel +over the world more generally than any other people," he said, "I +presume that you are generally familiar with many languages." The Easy +Chair bowed, and cleared its throat, and smiled, and said, "Oh +yes--probably--undoubtedly." + +"Yours is a very great country," the visitor politely returned, "and +this city is indeed magnificent. It promises one day to rival Pekin, +at least in extent and population. The pleasure of seeing your great +men--the great men of so great a city, I mean--must be very unusual, +and I should be infinitely your debtor if you would accompany me to +your temple of civic greatness--your City Hall, as I understand you +call it. Your popular institutions, as we are told in China, are +intended to secure worthy governors of the people by the votes of the +people themselves. It is exceedingly interesting, and I am very +anxious to study the working of your institutions in your chief city." + +The Easy Chair bowed and cleared its throat again, and answered that +the study of the city was certainly very interesting, but without +proffering to escort the travelling philosopher to the City Hall, it +contented itself with remarking that ours is a very great country, and +that its institutions are unequalled in the world. + +"I have met no American who is not of that opinion," courteously +returned the Chinese gentleman, "and I was pleased to see upon a visit +to your Washington and Fulton markets a noble illustration of the +generous and becoming manner in which such important parts of your +municipal institutions are managed." + +The Easy Chair answered that it was not that kind of institution which +it had intended by its remark. + +"Possibly you allude to another great institution which I have +visited," returned the traveller, with exquisite courtesy. "You justly +pride yourself upon your advances in sanitary science, and I am a +devout pilgrim seeking enlightenment. Judge, then, with what pleasure +I saw your chief temple of the customs. What convenience and economy +of arrangement! How singularly fitted for its purpose! You are indeed +a great people. I passed into the main circular hall, and what purity +of atmosphere, what admirable ventilation, what refreshing coolness +and sweetness; it is, indeed, a sanitarium; nor can I wonder that you +are proud of your progress and achievements in this science. But when +I learned that the officers engaged in the public service in this +temple, in the business of various accounts, and in determining the +value of the products of the whole world, were appointed to the duty +because of their zeal in providing candidates for offices and +procuring votes for them, I was lost in admiration of institutions +under which zealous shouting and running are evidence of skill to +embroider muslin and to calculate interest. Truly you are a great +people, and your institutions overflow with wisdom." + +The Easy Chair bowed and smiled, but the precise terms of an +appropriate reply did not suggest themselves, until, remembering what +was due to its native land, it began: "There can, however, illustrious +son of Lien Chi Altangi, be no doubt that we are a very great and +superior people, and that we have a very just pity and contempt for +all the unhappy victims of the effete despotisms and hoary empires of +the older world--not that we believe the other continents to be +actually older, for our own favored continent doubtless emerged first +from chaos, but it is an expression which, with the generosity of our +institutions, we are willing to tolerate." + +"I cannot deny your greatness," politely said the yellowish-visaged +gentleman, "and far be it from me to question your superiority. It was +but yesterday evening that I attended a social assembly which was +described to me as a full-undress party, and as I entered and beheld +many of the other sex, I was struck by the accuracy of the +description. As I promenaded through the brilliant throng with one of +the loveliest of your young persons of that sex, she said to me, with +a bewitching smile, 'Dear Mr. Altangi, is it true that Chinese women +squeeze their feet for beauty? How very funny!' + +"She panted as she spoke, and I saw that her body was evidently +incased in some kind of rigid and unyielding garment, and that her +waist was surely not the waist of nature. I gazed as intently as +decorum would permit--for I am but a student of cities and of men--and +I was sure that my lovely companion's body was more cruelly compressed +than the feet of my adorable countrywomen, and her panting breath was +but evidence of the justice of my observation. I asked her with +sympathy if I could not call some companion to relieve her, or, if the +case were urgent, whether I could not myself offer succor. But she +gazed at me as if I spoke a strange language, and smilingly asked my +meaning. + +"'Dear miss,' I said, 'are you not in great suffering?' 'Not at all,' +she replied, and I paid homage to her heroism. 'I know not, dear miss, +whether to admire more the greatness of your heroism or the generosity +of your sympathy. While you are in torment yourself, your tender +interest goes forth to my countrywomen in what you believe to be +torture. Be comforted, dear miss; the anguish of a squeezed foot is +not comparable to that of a waist so cruelly confined as yours, and +the consequences, also, are not to be compared.' If human bodies in +your great and happy country are made like ours in China, certainly, +Mr. Easy Chair, I must acknowledge that in heroic endurance of the +cruelty of fashion your country is indeed pre-eminent." + +There seemed to be such a singular misapprehension upon the part of +the courteous visitor that the Easy Chair was beginning again to +explain--"Yes, but the indisputable superiority of our glorious +country"--when the son of Altangi interrupted, with suavity: +"Certainly. I was about to add that while my fair companion insisted +that I should confess the pinching of the feet to be a heinous folly, +if not, as she was plainly disposed to believe, a crime, my eye was +arrested by another lightly and lowly draped figure of the same sex +advancing towards us with an uncertain, hobbling step so like the gait +of the lovely Chinese maidens of almond eyes that again I watched +intently, and I saw that not only was this sylph drawn out of all +natural form at the waist, but that she was attempting to walk in +little shoes supported upon high pivots called heels under the centre +of the feet. It was an ingenious combination of torture and +helplessness, to which no social circle in my native land offers a +parallel. It is a wonderful achievement, due, I have no doubt, Mr. +Easy Chair, to the manifest superiority of your great country, and +plainly a striking illustration of it. Yet it is interesting and +touching that the maidens of your politer circles, gasping in pinched +waists, and balancing and tottering on pivots under their shoes, +should inquire with so amused an air about the squeezed feet of +Chinese ladies. I pay you my compliments, Mr. Easy Chair, upon your +extraordinary country." The urbanity of the visitor was perfect. The +Easy Chair looked at his eyes to see if they twinkled, but they had +only a bland regard; and as it was beginning again--"Nevertheless, +sir, you will admit that the superiority of our institutions"--there +seemed to be so positive an approach to twinkling in the Chinese eyes +that the Easy Chair paused, smiled, and then said: "Worthy son of Lien +Chi Altangi, thy words enlighten the mind, even as those of thy +ancestor illuminated the minds of our fathers over the sea. By their +light I read the meaning of the saying that in my youth I heard in the +valleys of the Tyrol, 'Beyond the mountains there are men also.'" + + + + +HOLIDAY SAUNTERING. + + +The richness and profusion and variety of the Christmas shops in a +great city, the sack of the treasures of the whole earth, which +furnish such splendid spoil, recall a remark of Buckle. He says that +the history of the world shows enormous progress in all kinds of +knowledge, in institutions, in commerce and manufactures, and in every +pursuit of human activity, but not in knowledge of moral principle. +The most ancient wisdom in morals is also the most modern. Time and +the progress of civilization have added nothing to the demands of the +conscience or to moral perception. The golden rule is an axiom of the +most ancient wisdom. + +These are bewildering speculations as we stroll along Fourteenth +Street and loiter in Twenty-third Street, which, at the holiday +season, have especially the aspect of a fair or a fascinating bazaar. +The whole world is tributary to Santa Claus. + + "Nothing we see but means our good, + As our delight or as our treasure; + The whole is either our cupboard of food + Or cabinet of pleasure." + +Invention and science have put a girdle about the globe fitly to +decorate Christmas. Diedrich Knickerbocker, in his cocked hat and +flowered coat, had heard of Japan, perhaps, as a romance of Prester +John. But it would have been a wilder romance for him to imagine his +grandchildren dealing at the feast of St. Nicholas with Japanese +merchants in Japanese shops upon the soil of his own Manhattan and on +the very road to Tappan Zee. Hendrik Hudson might have been reasonably +expected to run down from the Catskills with a picked crew to vend +Hollands for the great feast. But Cipango--! + +Yes; we have subdued distance, we are plucking out even the heart of +Africa. As the streets of Bokhara when the fairs were held were piled +with the stuffs of many a province and thronged by merchants of every +hue, so the streets of New York at Christmas show that we have taken +the whole earth to drop into our Christmas stocking. The festival +might be fitly celebrated by coming to the city merely to walk the +streets and + + "view the manners of the town, + Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings." + +Happily the eye can appropriate all the treasures that it would be +theft for the hand to touch. + +Corydon, sauntering with Amaryllis, and staring with her at the +wonderful windows, may be a prince by proxy. "Those pearls," he +whispers, "the diver plunged into Oman's dark waters to find for you. +They are so far on their way, adored Amaryllis. They have reached your +eyes, if not yet your ears. Let me but be rich--and I expect at least +five dollars for my first fee--let the world but discover that in me +the Law, whose seat is the bosom of God, has a new Mansfield, another +Marshall, and yonder pearls shall circle the virgin neck for which +they were predestined. Or do you prefer the diamonds behind the next +pane? Or shall Santa Claus sweetly capture both for you, one for state +dress and splendor, one for days less rigorous, not of purple velvets +and flowered brocades, but summer draperies of soft lace?" + +So the Marchioness and the gay Swiveller, with their happy gift of +transforming a shred of lemon-peel and copious libations of pure water +into nectar, might have walked the Christmas streets of New York as +those of Ormus and of Ind. Lafayette, with the gold snuff-box in which +the freedom of the city was presented to him, could not have been +freer of it. The happy loiterers could see all the beautiful things, +and what could they do more if they should buy them all? Like the kind +people at Newport in the summer, who spare no vast expense to build +noble houses and lay out exquisite grounds and drive in sumptuous +carriages and wear clothes so fine and take pains so costly and +elaborate to please the idle loiterer of a day, who gazes from the +street-car or the omnibus or the sidewalk, so the good holiday +merchants present the enchanting spectacle of their treasures freely +to every penniless saunterer, but for the same enjoyment they demand +of the rich an enormous price. The poor rich must bear also all the +responsibility of possession and care, and cannot be secured against +theft or loss. + +The splendid streets beguile us from our question. In the brilliant +bazaars we are recalling the New York of silence and solitary woods +and roving Indians--the New York that the Dutch settlers bought from +the Indians for twenty-four dollars, and which is now the city that we +behold, the metropolis of the State of which Mr. Draper, its +Superintendent of Public Instruction, asks, "Who shall say that these +six millions of people are not better housed, better fed, better +clothed, more generally educated, more active in affairs, better +equipped for self-government than any other entire people numbering +six millions, unless it be other citizens of our own country, +surrounded by the same circumstances and conditions?" Not the Easy +Chair, certainly. On the contrary, it says Amen. + +But is Buckle right? Are the six millions as much better morally than +the first six millions of their white ancestors upon the continent, as +they are better clothed, better educated, and better housed? Are they +only materially better? Have they better poets, better artists, than +the Greeks, than Dante, than Shakespeare, than Raphael and Michael +Angelo? Have they wiser men than Plato, Aristotle, Bacon? Have they +higher standards of conduct than those of Confucius and the Hindoos? A +hundred years ago the pilgrim was sometimes a week travelling to +Albany with great discomfort. To-day we travel thither in three hours +with incredible ease and luxury. Do we find more public virtue when we +get there? Comfort, knowledge, opportunity, resources, are multiplied +a thousandfold. Schools, libraries, museums, societies, appliances, +have sprung in a night, like Jack's bean-stalk, to a towering height. +Have they brought us nearer heaven? Are we more truthful, more +upright, manlier men? In a world where mechanical invention and +victories over time and space were of no importance, but where moral +qualities alone availed, should we men of the end of the nineteenth +century stand any better chance than those of the beginning of the +ninth? + +That is the queer question which Santa Claus insists upon dropping +into the stockings that hang by this Christmas hearth. He calls it a +Christmas nut to crack. The old fellow chuckles as he thinks of it +while he rides through the frosty starlight. "My children," he laughs, +"what is the difference between six dozen dozen and half a dozen +dozen?" While he asks and chuckles, the old fellow is himself an +answer. He did not invent gifts. But he symbolizes universal giving. +The moral law may be as old as man, but the demand and disposition for +the general application of that law to actual life increase with every +century. The moral law was the same when Howard revealed the horrors +of prisons that it is now when modern philanthropy has purged and +purified them. "The sense of duty," said Webster, in his greatest +criminal argument, "pursues us ever." But it pursues us more +effectively with the return of every Christmas. + +If there be no larger knowledge of the moral law there is a more +universal sense of moral obligation. Those pearls of Oman which +Corydon designs for Amaryllis would not have adorned so noble a woman +had they circled the neck of the Paphian Venus or Helen of Troy. + + + + +WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD. 1881. + + +The great Commencement event of the Summer was Wendell Phillips's +oration at the centennial anniversary of the venerable Phi Beta Kappa +at Cambridge. It was also the semi-centenary of the orator's +graduation at Harvard, and there was great anticipation, not only +because Mr. Phillips is now in many ways the first orator of his time, +but because his _alma mater_ has not sympathized with his career. On +the day before, which was Commencement-day, there was general wonder +among the Harvard men of all years whether the orator would regard the +amenities of the occasion, and pour out his music and his wit upon +some purely literary theme, or seize his venerable mother by the hair, +and gracefully twist it out with a smile. + +"I hope," uneasily said a distinguished alumnus of Harvard to the Easy +Chair, "I hope he will not forget that he is a gentleman." + +"He has never yet forgotten it," replied the Easy Chair. + +The morning was beautiful--a sweet, fresh, brilliant June morning--and +there was a great assembly in the grounds of the university. The usual +Phi Beta Kappa attendance is not large. The celebration occurs on the +last day of prolonged college festivities, and the number of members +of the society is limited; nor, in fact, has it a real existence +except on the day of its oration and poem and dinner. This year, +however, the centenary of Harvard, from which all the other chapters, +except the parent chapter at William and Mary, have proceeded, had +drawn delegations from seventeen other colleges. The pink and blue +ribbon, which has replaced the square gold watch-key of other days, +fluttered at every button-hole, and with pealing music leading the +way, the long, long procession--a Phi Beta Kappa procession such as +perhaps Harvard never saw before--wound under the imposing buildings +towards the beautiful college hall, the Sanders Theatre. + +A great college day is always a feast of memory. As the music swelled +and the procession moved, the air was full of visions of forms long +vanished, of voices forever silent. To the Phi Beta Kappa memory in +Cambridge, however, three of the society's famous days returned. +First, that 26th of August, 1824, when Edward Everett delivered the +oration, which closed with the apostrophe to Lafayette, sitting upon +the platform in the old meetinghouse, which stood, we believe, where +Gore Hall now stands. It is the college tradition that the audience +rose in enthusiasm with the last words of the orator: "Welcome, thrice +welcome, to our shores, and whithersoever throughout the limits of the +continent your course shall take you, the ear that hears you shall +bless you, the eye that sees you shall bear witness to you, and every +tongue exclaim with heart-felt joy, Welcome, welcome, Lafayette!" and +that Lafayette himself, not clearly apprehending the drift of the +peroration, and swept on by sympathy, eagerly applauded with the +excited throng. Second, that 31st of August, 1837, when Ralph Waldo +Emerson read the remarkable discourse to whose calm, wise, and +thrilling words the hearts of men who were young then still vibrate, +and to which their lives have responded; and third, the day in 1836 +when Oliver Wendell Holmes read his poem, "A Metrical Essay," which is +the traditional Phi Beta Kappa poem, as Everett's and Emerson's are +the traditional orations. Richard H. Dana, Jr., calls Everett's +discourse the first of a kind of which since then there have been +brilliant illustrations, the rhetorical, literary, historical, and +political essay blended in one, and made captivating by every charm of +oratory. + +But the procession has reached the theatre, in which already there are +ladies seated, and in a few moments the building is filled with an +audience to which any orator would be proud to speak. There is music +as the audience rustles and murmurs into its place with eager +expectation. Then there is a prayer. Then Mr. Choate, the president of +the day, with his customary felicity and sparkling banter, speaks of +the origin of the ancient and mysterious brotherhood. "And now," he +says, in ending, "I introduce to you him who, whenever and wherever he +speaks, is the orator of the day." Mr. Phillips rises, and buttons his +frock-coat across his white waistcoat as he moves to the front of the +platform. Seen from the theatre, his hair is gray, and his face looks +older, but there is the same patrician air; and with the familiar +tranquillity and colloquial ease he begins to speak. + +He spoke perhaps for two hours, perhaps for half an hour. But there +was no sense of the lapse of time. His voice was somewhat less strong, +but it had all the old force and the old music. He was in constant +action, but never vehement, never declamatory in tone, walking often +to and fro, every gesture expressive, art perfectly concealing art. It +was all melody and grace and magic, all wit and paradox and power. The +apt quotation, the fine metaphor, the careful accumulation of +intensive epithet to point an audacious and startling assertion, the +pathos, the humor. But why try to describe beauty? It was consummate +art, and as noble a display of high oratory as any hearer or spectator +had known. + +It is usually thought that there must be a great occasion for great +oratory. Burke and Chatham upon the floor of Parliament plead for +America against coercion; Adams and Otis and Patrick Henry in vast +popular assemblies fire the colonial heart to resist aggression; +Webster lays the corner-stone on Bunker Hill, or in the Senate unmasks +secession in the guise of political abstraction; Everett must have the +living Lafayette by his side. But here is an orator without an +antagonist, with no measure to urge or oppose, whose simple theme upon +a literary occasion is the public duty of the scholar. Yet he touches +and stirs and inspires every listener; and as he quietly ends his +discourse with a stanza of Lowell's that he has quoted a hundred times +before, every hearer feels that it is a historic day, and that what he +has seen and heard will be one of the traditions of Harvard and of Phi +Beta Kappa. + +It does not follow, because the audience was charmed, and overflowed +with expressions of delight, that it therefore agreed. When an orator +calls the French Revolution "the greatest, the most un-mixed, the most +unstained and wholly perfect blessing Europe has had in modern times, +unless, perhaps, we may possibly except the Reformation," there will +be those who differ--who will grant the beneficent results of +revolutions, as of wild storms of nature, but who will hesitate to +call a movement of which the September days, the noyades, and the +bloody fury of a brutal mob were incidents, the most unmixed and the +most unstained of blessings. No American would lament the agitation +for emancipation, to which the life of the orator has been devoted. It +was a great blessing to the country and to humanity; but from the +blood of Lovejoy to that of the last victim of the war on either side, +it was not an unstained and unmixed blessing. There is, indeed, a +sense in which "to gar kings know" that they have a joint in their +necks may in itself be called an unstained political gain. But since +historically the lesson is taught only by the cruel suffering of the +innocent and the guilty together, it is, in fact, indelibly stained. +"Ah!" said the most benignant of men, "it was a delightful discourse, +but preposterous from beginning to end." + +Yet its central idea, that it is the duty of educated men actively to +lead the progress of their time, is incontestable. The orator, indeed, +virtually arraigned his _alma mater_ for moral hesitation and +timidity. But a university lives in its children, and is judged by +them; and surely the history of civil and religious liberty in this +country from Samuel Adams, James Otis, and Joseph Warren down to +Channing and Parker, to Charles Sumner and Wendell Phillips, and the +brave boys of whom Memorial Hall is the monument, all of whom were +sons of Harvard, does not show that the old university has not +contributed her share of leadership. + +Such answers, striking and trenchant and admirable, were perhaps made +at the delightful dinner which followed the oration. Perhaps President +Eliot promptly took up and threw back with eloquent energy the gage +which had been thrown in the very face of the venerable mother by one +of her eminent children, so illustrating that ample resource and +sagacious firmness which have made his administration most efficient +and memorable. Perhaps Dr. Holmes, whose felicitous genius overflowing +in wit and music has long put the sparkling bead upon the Phi Beta +Kappa goblet, recited the lines whose response was the gay laughter +that rang through a pelting shower of rain far over the college +grounds. Perhaps as "Auld Lang Syne" was sung with locked hands at the +end of the dinner, if "Auld Lang Syne" is ever sung at Phi Beta Kappa +dinners, there was a general feeling that the day had been a +red-letter day for the university, and a white day in the recollection +of all who had heard one of the most charming discourses that were +ever delivered in the country, and had beheld a display of oratorical +art which in this time, at least, cannot be surpassed. + +But of all this nothing can ever be known, because the feasts of Phi +Beta Kappa are sealed with secrecy. + + + + +EASTER BONNETS. + + +It is not a great many years ago that, among Protestants in this +country, Easter was mainly the festival of one denomination, and even +within that denomination it was celebrated with comparatively little +pomp. But now it is universal, especially in the larger towns and +cities, and many churches decorate themselves with flowers, and +observe with annually accumulating splendor the great feast of the +immortal hope. The churches are filled with people. The music is +elaborate, and it is elaborately advertised during the preceding week, +and, by one of those odd coincidences which associate the most diverse +things, it is on Easter-Day that the new spring bonnets of the ladies +appear, and there is a delightful mingling of most diverse interests. + +"I have observed," said an elderly gentleman, as he watched from the +window of his club the pretty procession of new clothes winding +churchward on Easter morning, "that some ladies of high fashion dress +more and more elaborately as they advance in years, and as the sweet +light of youth fades from their eyes it is replaced by a greater blaze +of diamonds upon their persons." + +It was the venerable Ambassador from Sennaar who spoke, and who was +smiling pleasantly upon the cheerful scene. + +"For myself," he continued, "I can recall nothing more enchanting in +human form than the granddaughter of my old friend whom I went to see +some years ago in Newport, and who bounded in at the open window from +the garden on a perfect June morning--herself incarnate June--clad in +a white muslin dress, her hair simply knotted behind, holding a rose +in her hand, and with the loveliest rose in her cheeks. That young +woman, a girl not yet twenty, now has girls of her own more than +twenty. I wonder if she wears a very elaborate bonnet this Easter +morning, and whether her dress is a mass of pleats and puffs and +marvellous trimmings, which, when profusely extravagant upon the form +of an elder woman, always remind me of signals of distress hung out +upon a craft that is drifting far away from the enchanted isles of +youth. Is it the instinctive effort to prolong the brilliancy of youth +that induces the advancing woman to decorate herself so brightly? Is +it the involuntary hope that she will really seem to be buoyant and +gay of heart if only her dress be gay? As they go trooping by I mark +that richly caparisoned dowager, and I recall the days when I was +merely an attache of the embassy, and when in the modest parlor in +Bond Street she sang: + + "'I wadna walk in silk attire, + Nor siller hae to spare, + Gin I must from my true love part, + Nor think on Donald mair." + +The old gentleman from Sennaar is always permitted to have his own +way, and he prattles on without interruption. If you don't care to +listen, it is always easy to withdraw, and to look out at another +window, and to make your own comments instead of heeding his. + +"But that was not exactly what I had in mind as I watched this pretty +Easter procession," resumed the venerable Ambassador; "but the truth +is that when I see a crowd of brightly dressed women, my mind +scatters, as it were, and I am very apt not to hit my mark." + +The old gentleman smiled again. "All the fine spring bonnets of +Easter-Sunday do not prove the youth of every face under them, and I +wonder whether this splendid celebration of Easter means that you are +a more religious people than in the plainer Easter days that I +remember. Is the sincerity of religious feeling always in proportion +to the magnificence of the ritual? If it be, you have become a deeply +religious people, especially in your great city. We used to think at +the legation in Rome that the people of that city were in danger of +mistaking a punctual observance of religious ceremonies for religion. +But you are so intelligent that you are, of course, in no such danger. +I accept these beautiful flowers and this pretty procession of new +bonnets as the proof of your religious progress." + +The Ambassador paused reflectively a moment, and then continued: "You +send a great many missionaries to India and elsewhere. Is it because +you have no work for them at home? In my country, my benighted and +heathen Sennaar, we have a proverb that an ounce of practice is worth +a pound of profession. In Rome, I say, we used to fear lest the +people, with crossings and dippings and genuflections and repetitions +of a long series of invocations and confessions and penance and many +ceremonies, might come to confound these things with religion. But I +suppose that this blossoming Easter, this solemn abstention from 'the +German' in Lent, and this interest in draperies and postures, mean +that you devote the same energy and time and care to studying how to +help the helpless, how to console the suffering, how to teach poverty +to hope and labor for its own relief. It means that the richly attired +Christians who are walking in the most fashionable spring bonnets to +church on Easter-Sunday have learned who is their neighbor, and what +their duty is towards him, and are diligently doing it." + +The Ambassador removed his eyeglasses, and turned to smile blandly +upon the group of club-men near him. + +"This reflection," he continued, "makes me very happy, and fills me +with reverence for a Christian people. For if you built superb +churches in one street, and tolerated heathen squalor of soul and body +in the next street, you would crucify Christianity. No, no: these +sweet flowers of Easter are not symbols of your words, but of your +work; not of your professions, but of your practice." + +The old gentleman resumed his glasses, and looked silently at the +thronged street. How comfortable to believe with our venerable friend, +and to perceive that the great increase in the beauty of the Easter +commemoration is the fitting symbol of the corresponding increase in +our religious faith and practice! + + + + +JENNY LIND. + + +It is many years ago that the Easy Chair, making the grand tour, was +in Dresden, and saw in the newspaper that Jenny Lind, then in the +first fulness of her fame, would sing for four nights in Berlin. It +was in the autumn, and loitering along the Elbe and through the Saxon +Switzerland was a very fascinating prospect. But the chance of hearing +the Swedish Nightingale was more alluring than the Bastei and the +lovely view from Konigstein, and at once the order of travel was +interrupted, and the Easy Chair arrived eagerly in Berlin. + +The Berlin of those days was still a city in which the student could +live economically, and hear the lectures of great teachers upon the +most reasonable terms. But the sole interest of the moment was the +Northern singer, and upon reaching the hotel and making prompt +inquiry, the Easy Chair learned that chairs for the Lind +representations could be secured only at prices which were wholly +unprecedented in the staid Hohenzollern capital. The exigency of the +case, however, compelled the payment, and the Easy Chair devoted +eighteen thaler, or nearly as many American dollars, to obtaining a +seat to hear Jenny Lind for the first time. Never for such a sum was +bought so rich a treasure of delightful and unfading recollections, +always cheering and inspiring--an unwasting music which has murmured +and echoed through a life. + +The scene was the Royal Opera-house. The audience was the finest +society of the court; and even then the musical taste of Berlin, as if +forecasting Wagner, used to sneer loftily at that of Vienna, where +Flotow was about to produce "Martha," as a taste for _tanzmusik_. The +opera was the "Sonnambula," and after the pretty opening choruses and +dances, Amina came tripping to the front through the clustering +villagers. + +She was an ideal peasant maiden, blooming and blithe and fair, of an +indefinable simplicity and purity; the genuine peasant of the poetic +world, not a fine lady of Marie Antoinette's Petit Trianon playing at +rustic artlessness. The voice and the singing were but the natural +expression of that charming maidenhood. The full volume, the touching +sweetness of tone, the exquisite warble, the amazing skill and the +marvellous execution, with the perfect ease and repose of consummate +art, and the essential womanliness of the whole impression, were +indisputable and supreme. To a person sensitive to music and of a +certain ardor of temperament there could be no higher pleasure of the +kind. Every such person who heard Jenny Lind in her prime, from 1847 +to 1852, whether in opera or concert, can recall no greater delight +and satisfaction. + +Other famous singers charmed that happy time. But Jenny Lind, +rivalling their art, went beyond them all in touching the heart with +her personality. Certainly no public singer was ever more invested +with a halo of domestic purity. When she stood with her hands quietly +crossed before her and tranquilly sang "I know that my Redeemer +liveth," the lofty fervor of the tone, the rapt exaltation of the +woman, with the splendor of the vocalization, made the hearing an +event, and left a memory as of a sublime religious function. This +explains Jenny Lind's peculiar hold upon the mass of her audiences in +this country, who were honest, sober, industrious, moral American men +and women, to most of whom the opera was virtually an unknown, if not +a forbidden, delight. Malibran had sung here in the freshness of her +voice and charm; Caradori-Allan, Cinti-Damoreau, Alboni, Parepa, and +other delightful singers followed her. Grisi came, too, but in her +decline. Still others have ruled their hour. But in the general memory +of the country Jenny Lind remains unequalled. There was the +unquestionable quality in her song which made Mendelssohn say that +such a musical genius appears but once in a century. + +It was a pleasant little New York to which she came, but it thought +itself a very important city. Fanny Ellsler had bewitched the town a +few years before; and some graybeards and baldheads, now tottering in +the sun upon Broadway, but then the golden youth of Manhattan, took +the horses from the Bayadere's carriage and drew her in triumph to her +hotel. Ole Bull, also, had come conquering out of the North like a +young Viking, charming and subduing, and Vieuxtemps came also, +disputing the palm. The town took sides. The virtuosi applauded +Vieuxtemps as a true artist, and shrugged at Ole Bull as an eccentric +player. If you whispered "Paganini?" they silently shrugged the more. +Still the young Viking fascinated young and old. He played like the +Pied Piper, and the entranced country danced after. But when Jenny +Lind came, the welcome to the singer as yet unheard was more +prodigious than that offered to any other European visitor except +Dickens. It was managed, of course, by Barnum. It was advertising. But +that was only until she sang. After that first evening at Castle +Garden the delight advertised itself. + +In this day, Wagner _consule_, of the eclipse of Italian opera, the +programme of a Lind concert will perhaps win a glance of curiosity +even from the lovers of "Tristan und Isolde," who follow with +reverence in the parquette the mighty score of the trilogy upon the +stage. Here, for instance, is the programme of a charitable concert of +Jenny Lind's in Boston on Thursday evening, the both of October, 1850, +just a month after her first concert in the country at Castle Garden +in New York on the 11th of September. The programme is a pamphlet +opening with four marvellous wood-cut likenesses of Jenny Lind, Jules +Benedict, her conductor; Signor Belletti, the barytone, and Mr. +Barnum. The words or each song in the original and in translation are +printed upon separate pages, and the whole concludes with sketches of +the lives of Jenny Lind, Signer Benedict, Signor Belletti--and Mr. +Barnum. The selection of music comprises Beethoven's overture to +"Egmont;" an air from the "Elijah," first time in America, sung by +Jenny Lind; "Non piu andrai," from Mozart's "Nozze di Figaro," by +Signor Belletti; piano solo, Mendelssohn's "Songs without Words," by +Signor Benedict; and, for the first time in America also, "Und ob die +Wolke," from "Der Freischutz," by Jenny Lind. This was the first part. +The second part began with Reissiger's overture, "Die Felsenmuhle;" +Signor Belletti then sang the "Piff Paff," from Meyerbeer's +"Huguenots;" Jenny Lind followed with the "Come per me sereno," from +the "Sonnambula," for the first time in America; then Belletti with +the "Miei rampolli," from Rossini's "Cenerentola;" and the concert +ended with the "Dalecarlian Melody" and the "Mountaineer's Song," both +for the first time, by Jenny Lind. + +It would be still possible even for the devoutest Wagnerian disciple +to hear such a concert, perhaps, without leaving the hall in +indignation, perhaps even without a protest. All the concerts were of +uniform excellence, and the Easy Chair is a competent witness, at +least so far as attendance is concerned, for it heard all of the Lind +concerts in New York except the first. During the second season an +unknown name appeared one evening upon the bill, which announced that +Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, a young and unknown pianist, would play for the +first time in this country. Tripler Hall, opposite Bond Street upon +Broadway, was crowded as usual, and when Jenny Lind had withdrawn +after singing one of her "numbers," a slight, dark-haired youth came +upon the stage and seated himself at the piano. He was courteously +greeted, and just as he was about to begin, the door opened quietly at +the back of the stage, and Jenny Lind stood in full view of the +audience tranquilly to listen. At a happy point in the performance she +clapped heartily, and the whole house, following its lovely leader, +burst into a storm of applause. The young man bowed to the audience +and to "Miss Lind," and, as he ended, with more hand-clapping and a +bright and kindly smile Jenny Lind vanished, having secured the +success of Mr. Otto Goldschmidt. It was a pretty scene. Perhaps the +_prima donna assoluta_ recalled the famous brava-a-a-a of Lablache on +her first evening at her Majesty's Opera-house in London, which +satisfied England that she was a great singer, and confirmed her +career. To the audience her friendly interest seemed the impulse of +her kindly heart for a young neophyte in this profession. To Mr. Otto +Goldschmidt--! + +Ole Bull returned to the country before Jenny Lind left it, and one +evening, when she was staying at the Stevens House, in Broadway by the +Bowling Green, she gave a dinner, and Ole Bull was among the guests. +After dinner he seated himself at the piano, and running over the +keys, struck into some wild minor chords, and began to sing Norwegian +songs. They were of a singular melancholy, but very beautiful, and the +company listened intently. Jenny Lind especially sat rapt in the +music, until, after one of the songs, she rose quietly, and moving +steadily across the floor as if carrying a jar of water upon her head +and fearing to spill a drop, she pushed Ole Bull from his chair, and +seating herself in his place at the piano, reproduced the entire song +with exquisite pathos. + +Indeed, it was in these characteristic Northern songs, full of strange +and romantic tenderness, and suggestive of solitary seas and wide, +lonely horizons, of awful mountain heights and secluded valleys of +sober and sequestered life, that her voice seemed most extraordinary +and her skill most marvellous. Romantic singing, picturesque, +mournful, weird, could go no further. She was the spirit of the North +singing its hymn, and the audience sat enchanted under the melodious +spell. A veteran, as he recalls those days, might well suspect that he +is still enthralled by the magician's wand of youth, and that it is +not fact, but only its rosy exaggeration, which he describes. But the +contemporary records of that astonishing career remain, and they +confirm his story. The prices paid for tickets, the enormous receipts, +and the generous gifts in charity of Jenny Lind are not fables. Yet +the glamour of youth has its part in all recollection of the days of +splendor in the flower. Once when the Easy Chair was extolling the +melodious Swede to a senior, the hearer listened patiently, with a +remote look in his eyes, and replied at last, musingly, "Yes, but you +should have heard Malibran." + +The series of American concerts which began on the 11th of September, +1850, at Castle Garden ended at the same place on the 24th of May, +1852. The vast space was not well suited for singing, but the +magnificent voice filled it completely, and in the fascinated silence +of the immense throng every exquisite note of the singer was heard. +She sang with evident feeling, and with responsive tenderness the +audience listened. Every time that she appeared she carried a fresh +bouquet, the sight of which gladdened some ardent young heart. But +when at last she came forward to sing the farewell to America, for +which Goldschmidt had composed the music, she bore in her hand a +bouquet of white rose-buds, with a Maltese cross of deep carnations in +the centre. This she held while for the last time in public she sang +in America; and the young traveller who, five years before, had turned +aside at Dresden to hear Jenny Lind in Berlin, alone in all that great +audience at Castle Garden knew who had sent those flowers. + + + + +THE TOWN. + + +In the city that we like to call the metropolis, the newspapers enable +us to begin every day with the knowledge that yesterday Mr. and Mrs. +A. entertained at dinner Messieurs and Mesdames B., C., D., E., F., +G., H., I., and J. And why is this precious knowledge imparted to us? +Why are we not also taught what else they did during the day? Why do +we learn nothing of Mr. and Mrs. Y. and Z., at the other end of the +alphabet, in Baxter Street? For these good folks who are mentioned are +in no way distinguished except for riches. If, indeed, they had done +or said or written anything memorable, if they had painted fine +pictures, or carved statues of mark, or designed noble buildings, or +composed beautiful music; if they had effected humane reforms, had +happily cheered or refined or enriched human life, or in any way had +made the world better and men and women happier, the curiosity to hear +of them, and to see them, and to read of their daily course of life, +would be as intelligible as the pleasure in seeing the birthplace of +Burns, or walking in Anne Hathaway's garden, or hearing of Abraham +Lincoln, or seeing Washington's bedstead and sitting in his chair. + +But to read day after day in the paper, this golden domesday-book, the +lists of rich people who ate terrapin together, or danced together in +lace frills and white cravats afterwards, and to read it with avidity, +is what might be done in some world of satire. But in a hard-working, +sensible, Yankee world! You might say that nobody does read it, but +the column of the newspaper which is devoted to this narrative, +contrasted with the few paragraphs in which the important news from +all parts of the globe is discussed, refutes you. The newspaper +understands itself. It is a shrewd merchant who supplies the demand in +the market. + +But is there no other than a humiliating explanation of the fact? Is +it only snobbishness, a mean admiration of mean things? Are we all +essentially lackeys who love to wear a livery? Or is it not +rather--all this interest in the small performances of those who, if +distinguished for nothing else, are the distinguished favorites of +fortune--the result of the ceaseless aspiration for a better +condition, and the instinct of the imagination to decorate our lives +with the vision of a fairer circumstance than our own, and to revenge +the tyranny of fate by the hope of heaven? If the fine Titania could +sing to Bottom, + + "Mine ear is much enamored of thy note, + ... + Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful," + +why should not our liberal fancy sing the same song to the Four +Hundred? They may be deftly enchanted to our eyes if to no others, and +to our view our Bottom also be translated. + +It is not what they are, but what we believe them to be, of which we +read in the newspaper. The poor sewing-girl, as she stitches her life +away "in poverty, hunger, and dirt," seeing unconsciously the fairy +texture and costly delicacy of the robe she fashions, follows it in +fancy to the form which is to wear it, and which to that fancy must +needs be that of a most lovely and most gracious woman, because none +other would that soft splendor of raiment befit. The lofty and +benignant lady must needs also mate with her kind, and move only among +those "learn'd and fair and good as she." All the circumstance of life +must conform, and amid light and perfume and music the unspeakable +hours of such women, such men, glide by.--The girl's head droops. For +one brief moment she dreams, and that charmed life is real. + +In a less degree, in our prosaic and plodding daily routine, we invest +the life of the favorites of fortune with an ideal charm. It is, to +our fond fancy, all that it might be. Those figures are not what +Circe's wand might disclose. They are gods and goddesses feasting, and +in happier moments we feign ourselves possible Ixions to be admitted +to the celestial banquet. In the streets of the summer city their +palaces are closed, their brilliant equipages are gone; they do not +sparkle and murmur in their opera boxes, nor roll stately in slow +lines along the trimmed avenues of the Park. But still the celestial +life proceeds, a little out of sight, its lovely leisure brimmed with +deeds becoming those who have no care but to do good and to +transfigure their own fair fortune into a blessing for the world. We +read the gross details of dress and dinner. But they remind us only +more keenly of the ample resource, the boundless opportunity which our +favorites of fortune enjoy. + +Thus, Orestes, we ponder the society column not because we are snobs, +but because our imaginations take fire; the dry narrowness and hard +conditions of our lives are soothed as we contemplate those who have +no excuse not to be benefactors; and what they should be, our +imaginations, benevolent to ourselves, assure us that they are. + + + + +SARAH SHAW RUSSELL. + + +There died lately a woman not known to the public, but whose loss to +those who personally knew her can never be made good. The summer that +shall come may bring as of old roses and violets, but the summer that +is gone will never return. In the memory of all of us there are +persons who seem to have revealed to us the best that we know and are; +they are so lofty that we are raised, so noble that we are ennobled; +so pure that we are purified. They are generally women whose lives are +noiseless, who live at home, wives and mothers, without the ambition +that spurs men to strive for renown, but their days are full of such +richness of beautiful life that its fitting image is that finest +flower of tropical luxuriance, the magnificent Victoria Regia. + +A nature so modest and simple, and a life so private that it seems +almost a wrong to speak of them publicly, yet a character so firm and +tranquil and self-possessed that if necessary it would have met +without doubt or hesitation any form of martyrdom, can hardly be +described without apparent exaggeration. She was born, in our familiar +phrase, a lady, and from the beginning, throughout a long life, she +was surrounded with perfect ease of circumstance. She was singularly +beautiful in her youth, and to the close of her life she had the charm +of personal loveliness. Her manner was direct and frank and cheerful, +and with her perfect candor and vigorous good-sense it scattered the +trivial and smirking artificialities of social intercourse as a clear +wind from the north-west cools and refreshes the sultry languors of +August. Early married to a man of the highest character and aims, and +of that practical good-sense which makes ability most effective, she +was in entire sympathy with his wise and humane interests, and thus in +her family she was most fortunate and happy. + +Yet by beauty, wealth, position, and the natural possession of the +prizes for which life is generally a struggle, she was wholly +unspoiled. Her views of duty and of just human relations were so clear +and true that she reinvigorated the conscience of all who knew her. +She was curiously free from the little weaknesses which we +instinctively excuse in ourselves and others, and although her +absolute truthfulness necessarily but involuntarily rebuked us all, we +could no more be angry than with our own consciences. The reproach was +entirely involuntary. Never was a woman more tenderly tolerant of +every honest difference, or more careful not to wound either by look +or word or tone. Too true herself to suspect falsity in others, she +was much too sensible to assume the part of Mentor. + +In the great mental and moral activity of her generation she was +instinctively liberal, and never questioned in others the complete +soul-liberty, as Roger Williams called it, which she calmly and +naturally maintained for herself. No reform could conceal from her its +essential value as a high aspiration, a good impulse, if nothing more; +and however grotesque and extravagant the reformer, she pierced his +mask of eccentricity and welcomed the earnest seeker, bewildered and +blinded though he might be. She judged speech and action by a +remarkable intuition of right and wrong, and it was interesting to see +how surely and smoothly she cut sophistry straight through to the +truth which it muffled and distorted. Men and women she valued solely +for their intrinsic worth, and never by conventional standards. A +fugitive slave and the Prince of Wales would have been treated by her +in a way which would have assured them both that the different +circumstances of their condition did not obscure their equal humanity. + +To say this must not leave the impression that she was other than a +lady of the simplest, most refined, and most unobtrusive but cordial +manner. There must be no vision of a Lady Bountiful, or of a Lady of +the Manor, or of any self-conscious personage whatever. But a stronger +influence upon the lives with which she was brought in contact cannot +well be conceived, nor the perennial hope and encouragement which her +cheerful presence inspired. Domestic sorrows touched that strong and +noble heart not to any vehement demonstration, but to a deeper faith +and a sober serenity, which interpreted the poet's sense of "the still +sad music of humanity." Courage, confidence, cheerfulness--these were +the good angels that dwelt with her, and through her they breathed +their benediction on all whom she loved or who personally knew her. As +she lived in communion with great thoughts and the widest human +sympathies, so that her life, like our stillest, harvest-ripening +days, passed in sunny repose, so the end was peace. With no wasting +malady, no long decay of faculty, she tranquilly slept. + +There is nothing that poets feign of women that was not justified by +her. In thinking of her lofty life there is no need of excuse or +allowance; for human nature, as it was never more unassuming or +simple, was never greater and lovelier than in her. Beautiful and wise +and brave and gentle and good, the thought of her is perpetual +blessing. + + + + +STREET MUSIC. + + +A man grinding a hand-organ in the street is doubtless a sturdy beggar +soliciting alms. A band of men blowing simultaneously into brass +instruments, with a brazen pretence of making music, is probably like +steam-whistles and church-bells and the cries of newspaper extras and +of itinerant peddlers of many wares--a noisy nuisance. Yet the old +cries of London, although doubtless strident and disturbing, have a +certain romantic charm of association and tradition. Like the Tower +and Billingsgate and Wapping Old Stairs, they were parts of very +London, and London was less London when they ceased. + +Were those old cries of the story-book, like the interpreted voices of +the church-bells-- + + "Kettles and pans, + Says the bell of St. Ann's; + Apples and lemons, + Says the bell of St. Clement's,"-- + +altogether shameless and exasperating noises? Were they not the same +voices that called Whittington to turn again? Was not the deep bay of +St. Paul's heard when Nelson, the old sea-dog, died? Could the music +of the bells be spared from the story of London more than that of the +cries? Is the milkman who announces the arrival of the morning's milk +with a "barbaric yawp," like that in which Mr. Whitman is supposed to +celebrate his own personality, a sturdy beggar? He would certainly +resent the imputation. He is a merchant who sells a desirable +commodity. Shall he be adjudged a nuisance? + +But Signor Raffaello da Perugia, who produces opera airs upon a +portable organ, with Don Whiskerando, who mounts with agility to the +parlor window to receive the consideration in his feathered cap, is he +not also a merchant who sells music to you in selected varieties, the +latest popular songs and tunes of the theatre, the waltz of last +year's ball-room? Must he be accounted a sturdy beggar because you +happen not to be in immediate want of his wares? Or the band of which +we were speaking, which arrives at the hour when the master of the +house returns from his office, and performs a serenade of welcome as +he greets the circle from which he has been absent since breakfast, +shall it be denied the pleasure of heightening the pleasure of others? +Are not the taxes of these Jem Baggses, these wandering minstrels, the +"only rates uninvidious in the levy, ungrudged in the assessment?" + +Where the intent is so unequivocally kindly, is it not gross and +unfeeling to suggest in the modest orchestra a questionable chord, a +cracked reed, a cornet out of tune? Why so insistent, so scrupulously +exigent? Are you never out of tune, good sir? Your chords, say in the +domestic concert, are they always finely harmonious, and your own reed +never cracked? Why so eager to cast the first stone? Yonder trombone +may have its weaknesses--who of us, pray, is without? Has tolerance +gone out with astrology? "He had his faults," said the Reverend Bland +Sudds yesterday in a funeral discourse upon the Honorable Richard +Turpin--"he had his faults, yes, for he was human." But if a man may +falter, shall we not forgive to a trombone even a half-note? If Turpin +may be respectfully lamented with indulgent hope, shall a hesitating +horn be doomed to "the all-sweeping besom of societarian reformation?" + +While Eugenio was making the grand tour he loitered in Venice and +lingered in Naples, wandering to Paestum, feasting in the orange +groves of Sorrento, and penetrating the Blue Grotto at Capri. In +Venice the songs of the country, in Naples the barcarolles, made his +memory as he came away a thicket of singing-birds. Those ever-renewed +snatches and remembered refrains of songs, Venetian and Neapolitan, +like a sponge passed over a Giorgione, brought out the mellow richness +of Italy, and as he paced Broadway and hummed a tender melody, he +walked where Vittoria Colonna had trod, and heard the faint beat of +oars upon moonlit Como. One morning, hard at work in his chamber, +where only the confused roar of the city was audible, a strain rose +high and clear above it all, with a soft, pathetic, penetrating +urgency, "So' marinaro di questa marina," and, all else forgotten, he +was once more rocking on Italian waters, and the red-capped +fisher-boys filled the air with song. + +He ran down, and into the street, and around the block, and, lo! +Signor Raffaello was the fond magician. He was turning the crank of +his heavy organ, and Don Whiskerando, feathered cap in hand, was +climbing the balcony of the drawing-room windows, and Signor Raffaello +was raising his eyes towards the upper windows to see if haply some +child or nurse attended. Eugenio dropped more than a penny into the +ready hand of the signore, and was gone before the swarthy magician +could make out his benefactor. Eugenio gained his room, and with +sympathetic intelligence the signore, playing out the College +Hornpipe, once more touched the stop of "So' marinaro," and renewed +the happy spell. + +It is not fine music, that of the hand-organ and the street bands; it +is indeed too oft a cracked and spavined pleasure. Doubtless it is +justly classified as one of the street noises, and street noises are +probably nuisances to be abated. But strolling in the eastern quarters +of the city, beyond the domain of the Academy and the Metropolitan +Opera-house and the halls of Steinway and Chickering, have you never +seen an eager and ragged little rabble happily watching Don +Whiskerando, while their elders are plainly pleased for a moment with +that tuneful noise? The fruit is not wholly sound, but it is far from +rotten. The music is poor, but the pleasure is unquestionable. +Possibly the "Gotterdammerung," and even Siegfried's "Tod," would pass +these people unmarked, like the wind. They cannot hold those mighty +measures. But they are receptive of these little tunes. In a life of +not much enjoyment this brings them some pleasure. Shall it be stopped +altogether? It is the business of these peddlers of tunes to wander. +They will move on if you do not want them. But must they also move +away from those who do want them? + +If there be too much noise in the streets, might not some other form +of noise have been first silenced than that of the street musicians? +There are the factory whistles and the church-bells. For the necessity +of the first something may be said. But the heavy clangor of the bells +is doubtless more than a discomfort to many, and it is wholly useless, +while the music of the organs and the bands is a pleasure. Do the +Aldermen, like Homer, sometimes nod? Sometimes, for an inadvertent +hour, do the finer instincts of public spirit flag in those civic +bosoms? What evil genius, hostile to the enjoyment of the people, +persuaded them? Did the city fathers for one ill-starred moment forget +their Tacitus, and silence the street music unmindful of those words, +so familiar to them in their hours of classic relaxation--_Solitudinem +faciunt, pacem appellant_? + + + + +A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY. + + +Mr. Lester Wallack in his reminiscences speaks of Thackeray, whom he +knew in New York, and recalls with admiration his simple and hearty +ways. Wallack says that as he returned from acting at his father's +theatre, then at the corner of Broadway and Broome Street, to his +lodgings in Houston Street, he used to pass Thackeray's quarters, who +was living with the late William D. Robinson in Houston Street, and if +he saw a light in the window he went in, and the gentlemen finished +the night together. He says that Thackeray had a boy's enjoyment of +the stories that the late-comer told, and although the guest does not +say it, the reader easily imagines that had he been in Thackeray's +place he would have shared Thackeray's pleasure in the gayeties of his +guest. Thackeray had the tastes of the town, and Charles Marlowe and +My Awful Dad were sure to bring their own welcome. + +Wallack also alludes to a dinner which Thackeray gave at the old +Delmonico's, at the corner of Broadway and Chambers Street, at the end +of his first visit to this country. He had been most warmly received, +and he had given universal delight by his lectures upon the English +Humorists. The charm of these lectures is evident in the reading, but +the pleasure of hearing them is quite indescribable. They were +delivered in Dr. Chapin's old church, upon the east side of Broadway +just below Prince Street, to an exceedingly intelligent and +sympathetic audience, who knew their enjoyment to be the highest kind +of literary pleasure. The thorough appreciation of the men whom he +described, the sweet and sinewy simplicity of his English, of which he +was a twin master with Hawthorne, the constant play of his kindly +humor, and manly pathos and sympathy, with his rich voice and massive, +magnetic presence, his melodious and refined inflection in speaking, +and his quiet, easy, colloquial manner, thrusting thumbs and +forefingers in his waistcoat-pockets--all these, pleasing to the mind +and sense, made him the pleasantest of lecturers, and still enchant +the memory of those + + "happy evenings all too swiftly sped." + +Just before he sailed upon his return to England he gave the dinner at +Delmonico's of which Wallack speaks, to repay many civilities, and +assembled a miscellaneous party of twenty or thirty guests. They were +men of various distinction, "everybody being somebody," as one of the +guests remarked while he glanced around the table. Thackeray was in +high spirits, and when the cigars were lighted he said that there +should be no speech-making, but that everybody, according to the old +rule of festivity, should sing a song or tell a story. Lester +Wallack's father, James Wallack, was one of the guests, and with a +kind of shyness, which was unexpected but very agreeable in a veteran +actor, he pleaded earnestly that he could not sing and knew no story. +But with friendly persistence, which yet was not immoderate, Thackeray +declared that no excuse could be allowed, because it would be a +manifest injustice to every other modest man at table, and put a +summary end to the hilarity. It was to be a general sacrifice, a +round-table of magnanimity. "Now, Wallack," he continued, "we all know +you to be a truthful man. You can, of course, since you say so, +neither sing a song nor tell a story. But I tell you what you can do, +and what every soul at this table knows you can do better than any +living man--you can give us the great scene from the 'Rent Day.'" + +There was a burst of enthusiastic agreement, and old Wallack, smiling +and yielding, still sitting at the table in his evening dress, +proceeded in a most effective and touching recitation from one of his +most famous parts. It was curious to observe from the moment he began +how completely independent of all accessories the accomplished actor +was, and how perfectly he filled the part as if he had been in full +action upon the stage. It is only this effect that the Easy Chair +recalls, but it was not to be forgotten. No enjoyment of it was +greater, and no applause sincerer than those of Thackeray, who +presently sang his "Little Billee" with infinite gusto. The song and +story went round, as Lester Wallack records, but the by-play of the +dinner, which is often the best part of such a banquet, was different +for each of the guests. The Easy Chair recalls one incident which was +a striking illustration of the masterly and phenomenal assurance of a +well-known figure in the Bohemian circles of New York at that time, +but whom it must veil under the name of Uncle Ulysses. + +By the side of the Chair sat a poet, whom also it must protect by the +name of Candide, for a simpler and sincerer literary man never lived. +It was in the time, as Thackeray was fond of saying, _Planco Consule_, +which in this instance means in the time of the old _Putnam's Monthly +Magazine_. The number for the month had been just published, and +Candide had contributed to it his "Hesperides," a charming poem, +although the reader will not find that title in his works. He and the +Easy Chair were speaking of the magazine, when Uncle Ulysses, who had +never met Candide, and knew him only by name, dropped into the chair +beyond him, and at a convenient moment made some pleasant remark to +the Easy Chair across Candide, who sat placidly smoking. "By-the-bye," +said Uncle Ulysses presently, "what a good number of _Putnam_ it is +this month! But, my dear Easy Chair, can you tell me why it is that +all our young American poets write nothing but Longfellow and water? +Here in this month's _Putnam_ there is a very pretty poem called +'Hesperides.' Very pretty, but nothing but diluted Longfellow." + +This was said to the Easy Chair most unsuspiciously across the author +of the poem, and the moment it was uttered, the Easy Chair, to prevent +any further disaster, broke in and said, "Yes, it is a delightful +poem, written by our friend Candide, who sits beside you. Pray let me +introduce you. Mr. Candide, this is Uncle Ulysses." + +Candide turned, evidently swelling with anger, and the Easy Chair was +extremely uncertain of the event, when Uncle Ulysses, with exquisite +urbanity and a look of surprise and pleasure, held out his hand, and +said: "Mr. Candide, this is a pleasure which I have long anticipated. +I am very much honored in making your acquaintance, and I was just +speaking to the Easy Chair of your delightful poem just published in +_Putnam_. I congratulate you with all my heart." + +Candide, astonished but perplexed, and yielding to the perfect +_bonhomie_ of Uncle Ulysses, half involuntarily put out his hand, +which our uncle shook warmly, and in five minutes his fascinating +tongue had charmed Candide so completely that the Easy Chair is +confident that the good poet always supposed that in some +extraordinary manner he had misunderstood Uncle Ulysses's remark +touching the imitative tendency of young American poets. + +So one reminiscence produces an ever-widening ripple of reminiscences. +Those which circle about the recollection of Thackeray in this country +are very many, but generally unrecorded. They linger, and appear +occasionally in allusions like those of Lester Wallack. But whenever +they are told they pay homage to the humorist. They recall his +constant, sturdy, kindly simplicity and kindliness. Wallack speaks of +a certain boyish or boy-like quality in Thackeray. It was certainly +there. He had the utmost sympathy with boys, and one of his gay +caricatures of himself represents him at a Christmas pantomime +standing with two boys behind the rest of the audience, he towering +aloft and seeing everything over other people's heads, while his poor +little comrades, far down about his knees, ruefully see nothing. But +you know that if no other seat could be found, the good giant would +soon have them upon his shoulders, and all would be boyishly happy +together. "They think I am a grinning surgeon with a scalpel," said +the tender-hearted man. But those who have not found and felt the +heart are yet to learn to know Thackeray. + + + + +CECILIA PLAYING. + + +As the great musical artists, especially the pianists, arrive one +after the other, and lead the town captive, one asks, not whether +there be any limit to the number, but to the skill. Last year there +was the prodigy, the phenomenon, the boy Hofmann, and all the +superlatives were spent in his praise. This year it is Rosenthal--valley +of roses--and sweet as their attar is his spell. "Well, what is he?" +"Simply miraculous; never was there anything like him." "But +Rubinstein?" "Yes, a great genius, but he himself said that at every +concert he dropped notes enough to furnish two concerts." "Then it is +skill only, _technique_?" "Not at all; it is perfection of feeling, +conception, touch, everything. Perhaps not the greatest of composers. +But for playing--ah!" + +Rapture is one kind of criticism. Perhaps in music, the effect of +which is emotional, rapture, if you know the person, is the best +criticism. The artist who can kindle to the utmost enthusiasm of +delight a musically sensitive person who is also an exquisitely +skilful player, and whom mere marvels of execution do not affect +beyond reason, may be accepted as a very remarkable artist. +Temperament also counts for much in estimating musicians. Natures are +sympathetic. A silent, separate chord vibrates in response to a thrill +of sound which leaves other things unmoved. The heart of the young man +speaks to the psalmist, but the old man's may be dull and unawakened. +The homoeopathic formula, like cures like, may be adapted to musical +criticism at least so far as to say that like touches like. + +When Cecilia says that she has been enchanted by the playing of any +artist, the quality of her feeling and expression justly interprets +the character of his performance. When Jenny Lind first sang in +America one of the most accomplished critics said that he must wait a +little to decide whether she was a great singer. That critic could +never really hear her. Another said that she was a consummate +ventriloquist. He meant that in the Herdsman's Song and the other +Volkslieder and native melodies there was an effect of vocalism which +seemed to him a trick. But to others it suggested wide, solitary +horizons, the sadness and seclusion of remote Northern life. Mere +imagination, retorted the critics. Yes, but to what does art, +especially musical art, appeal? Rubinstein, as he said of himself, +dropped notes without number under the piano. Thalberg did not, nor +Henri Herz. But they dropped something which Rubinstein did not. The +sunshine of a December day in this latitude is often cloudless and +beautiful. But it unfolds no rose and restores no leaf to the bare +bough. + +A sweet and true, a full-volumed and thoroughly trained voice, is a +rare gift to any man. But without a certain quality in the singer it +is a perfect fruit without flavor. The singing that haunts us, which +becomes part of our life, which fills the memory with tender and happy +images of other days and scenes, is not necessarily that of the finest +voices, but of that mingling in music of voice and skill and feeling +which weave an enchanted spell. Those who have known the troubadour +Riccardo have doubtless heard what are called greater voices, artists +who hold for a triumphant moment the hazardous peak of the high C, +whose roulades and phrasing are exquisite and admirable. But the +singer whom they wish to hear, whose singing is a part of life, like +the beauty of flowers and the dawn, is the singing of the troubadour +Riccardo. It is so with Cecilia's playing, and it is impossible to +suppose a person sensitive to music who could escape its spell. + +When she sits at the piano and touches the keys, they respond, as one +whom she fascinated said, with such smooth sweetness that you think +there is conscious pleasure to them in that pressure. It is apparently +as gentle, he insisted, as that of the breeze upon the grass which +lightly sways beneath it. The impression upon this sensitive youth was +a test of the character of her playing. If he had said she sings with +her fingers he would have said what he doubtless thought, and what is +true. She plays German songs--some of the familiar songs in the +collections, or something of Lassen's or Weit's, or Abt's, or one of a +thousand other songs, and the playing is like exquisite singing. It +fills the mind with pictures, with persons, with scenes, and with that +unspeakable content which only such music can give to the lovers of +music. "What on earth is it all about?" said the Senator at the +Symphony Concert, "and why do people come here?" The Hottentot would +have asked the same question if he had heard the Senator upon the +stump. + +If the fairy godmother who presides over the cradle should give the +newcomer the choice of gifts, what gift more precious could the young +stranger ask than the power of giving a pleasure so pure as that which +Cecilia's playing imparts? It is one of her praises that if the choice +had been given to her she would instantly have selected the very power +which the good fairy bestowed. For in giving the pleasure she does +only what she delights to do and would have chosen to do. One +philosopher, speaking to the Easy Chair of another, whose serenity was +as undisturbed by events as the firmament by clouds, said of himself +that he subdued more devils before breakfast every day than his serene +brother had encountered in his whole life. Yet the serene brother's +lofty repose was not less admirable because it was a quality of +temperament, and not a triumph of the will; and it is not less the +merit of Cecilia that the happiness she diffuses is as involuntary as +the fragrance of the sweetbrier. + +What is done without effort seems not to have been taught, and it is +not easy to fancy Cecilia drudging at exercises and laboring at +scales. Canaries, indeed, are trained to sing, and even young birds to +fly. Yet the training is but showing them how to give themselves free +play. To express entire facility we say that an act is done as +naturally as a bird sings. Not less naturally does Cecilia play. You +listen, and the song which you knew seems to sing itself, but +enveloped with a richness and fulness of flowing accompaniment which +is like the harping of aerial choirs. Then with others she plays the +great music, concerted Bach or Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann, or Wagner, +Weber or Mendelssohn; now an old gavotte, now a quaint fantasia, and +why not a toccata of Galuppi Baldassero? It is more than a hint or a +reminiscence, although it is not an orchestra. But when those fingers +kindred with Cecilia's sweep the keys together, the listener wonders +whether the hearer of the full orchestra has caught from it the subtle +and exquisite significance of the strain which has poured from those +enchanted pianos. + +The piano is called an inadequate instrument. Perhaps it is, until you +hear Cecilia play. Then by some secret sympathy you find yourself +murmuring, "Not so sweetly sang Plumer as thou sangest, mild, +childlike, pastoral M----; a flute's breathing less divinely +whispering than thy Arcadian melodies when, in tones worthy of Arden, +thou didst chant that song sung by Amiens to the banished Duke, which +proclaims the winter wind more lenient than for a man to be +ungrateful!" + + + + +THE MANNERLESS SEX. + + +To be told that the lily is not the flower of vestals, but of Venus, +could not be more surprising than to be assured that the mannerless +sex is not that of the troubadour Rudel, but of the Lady of Tripoli, +to whom he sang. Such a suggestion is, of course, but a merry fancy. +Could any critic, however inclined to misogyny, seriously allege +ill-manners against the sex of Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother? Yet +this is precisely what has been recently done. + +One censor enumerates and catalogues and classifies the sins against +good manners of which the sex is guilty. He presents a philosophical +analysis of the recondite forms of feminine discourtesy. It is the +ancient sage again pitilessly exposing the Lamia. It is Circe +out-Circed. He details the degrees of offence--in young women, in +women who are no longer classed as girls, in nearly all women, in +women with the fewest social duties. Then the boundless Sahara of +ill-manners opening before him, and with a certain zest of unsparing +scrutiny, he treats of the behavior of women in the horse-cars, at the +railway station buying tickets, at the post-office, where the rule is +imperative, first come first served, but where this chief of sinners +presses for a reversal of the beneficent rule of equality in her +favor. + +Still more flagrant aspects of misconduct rise upon the censor's view +of the sex. The shameful or shocking treatment by woman of those whom +she holds to be her inferiors cries to Heaven. Her heartless detention +of railway porters staggering under their burdens, her browbeating of +"tradespeople," cause this observer of fine susceptibilities and an +acute sense of the becoming to lament the desuetude of the +ducking-stool. The more general outrage, however, apparently common to +the sex from Helen of Troy to Florence Nightingale, is, according to +our censor, the spite of women towards each other, which mounts into +an ecstasy of rudeness when "woman goes a-shopping." + +But our Cato the elder does not permit man truculently to exalt +himself by contrast with discourteous woman. He expressly disclaims +the declaration of the implication that man is mannerly, while woman +is not. In many men he remarks indifference to rudimentary courtesies, +and in many women a gentle regard for others which deserves even +eulogy. The sum of the whole matter, nevertheless, is that the average +woman is more neglectful of common courtesy than the average man. + +"And no wonder," exclaims Cato the younger, "for the foolish fondness +of man teaches her discourtesy." If man, instead of giving her his +seat in the railway car, and slavishly removing his hat in the +elevator, and acquiescing in her tyrannical hat at the theatre, +insisted upon his legal rights in a bargain, and required the railroad +company to furnish without evasion the commodity of seats for which it +has been paid, or if he brought the manager to task for allowing one +of his customers to steal what he has sold to another--namely, a view +of the play--the world would tremble on the edge of the millennium of +good manners. + +This terrible arraignment is a comprehensive accusation of selfishness +against the sex. But it seems to be a generalization founded on a +local and restricted observation. It is true of the woman of many +artists and critics. The women of Du Maurier, for instance, belong to +"a set," but they are not representatives of a sex. Becky Sharp is no +more a typical woman than Amelia, or Scott's Rebecca. Major Dobbin is +as much a type of men as Lord Steyne. Should our social censor +sequester himself for a time in any remote rural community, it would +hardly occur to him to signalize the sex of the rural wives and +mothers as the selfish sex. And in town, although there are a few +fleeting hours of flattered youth in which the beautiful and fortunate +Helen may tread on air and breathe adulation until she feels herself a +goddess, yet a newer and younger Helen is always gently pushing her +from the throne. Of all seasons that of blossoms is the briefest, and +the maturer Helen, of whom the sex is composed, is not wayward and +selfish, is no longer "uncertain, coy, and hard to please," but +patient, self-sacrificing, and true. + +Man was self-convicted from the beginning. Could there be more +ineffable selfishness than Adam's plea in the garden? "The woman whom +thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree and I did eat." Had +Eve been of no finer stuff than he, she would have left him there. But +his craven answer at once revealed the essential weakness that +demanded the devoted stay of unselfish constancy. Were woman the +ever-selfish, Eve would have abandoned Adam to himself while she +tripped to solitary pastures new. But the same quality that sustains +the secluded farmer and his household in the hills supported the timid +tiller of the first garden as the sword flamed behind him over the +closing gate of Eden. If Adam plained that Eve had lost him Paradise, +does not every son of Adam own that she has regained it for him? + +The watchful traveller in city cars, or wherever his fate may guide, +is not struck by the discourtesy of the gentler sex. The observable +phenomenon in city transit is the resolute, aggressive, conscious +selfishness of man hiding behind a newspaper, with an air of +unconsciousness designed to deceive, or brazening it out with an +uneasy aspect of defending his rights. This is the spectacle, and not +a supercilious assumption on the part of the shop-girl. Her courteous +refusal to take a seat, or courteous acceptance of it, is more +familiar than the courteous proffer. + +Cato the younger suggests that it is a wrong that seats should not be +provided, and holds that the company should be compelled to furnish +the accommodation for which it is paid. It is a Daniel come to +judgment, but how shall it be done? Shall men keep their seats until, +by sheer shame, and in deference to indignant public protest, the +company does its duty? But would the shame and indignation be due to +the consciousness that the accommodation paid for was not provided? +Would they not arise rather from the consciousness of the peculiar +wrong that the gentler sex should be so incommoded? And, if so, while +the incommodation lasts, what but the selfishness of men devolves it +upon women! But if men should agree to surrender their seats that +women should be first accommodated, is there any doubt that the wrong +would be speedily righted? And to what would this be due but to the +fact that the selfishness of men would insist upon the comfort of +which, while the incommodation lasts, they deprive women? + +Indeed, if all men in crowded cars should resolutely keep all women +standing, the wrong would not be righted, because women would submit +with unselfish patience, and because corporations have no souls. The +better plan, therefore, is that all men shall refuse to see a woman +stand, because if men are really discomforted by their own courtesy +they will compel redress. + +In a world turned topsy-turvy, where Cordelia and Isabella and Juliet +were mannerless, the other sex might be eulogized by distinction as +mannerly. But in this world is the gentle Bayard as truly the type of +the average man as Jeanie Deans of the average woman? + + + + +ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE. + + +It is more than forty years since Margaret Fuller first gave +distinction to the literary notices and reviews of the New York +_Tribune_. Miss Fuller was a woman of extraordinary scholarly +attainments and intellectual independence, the friend of Emerson and +of the "transcendental" leaders, and her critical papers were the best +then published, and were fitly succeeded by those of her scholarly +friend, George Ripley. It was her review in the _Tribune_ of +Browning's early dramas and the "Bells and Pomegranates" that +introduced him to such general knowledge and appreciation among +cultivated readers in this country that it is not less true of +Browning than of Carlyle that he was first better known in America +than at home. + +It was but about four years before the publication of Miss Fuller's +paper that the Boston issue of Tennyson's two volumes had delighted +the youth of the time with the consciousness of the appearance of a +new English poet. The eagerness and enthusiasm with which Browning was +welcomed soon after were more limited in extent, but they were even +more ardent, and the devoted zeal of Mr. Levi Thaxter as a Browning +missionary and pioneer forecast the interest from which the Browning +societies of later days have sprung. When Matthew Arnold was told in a +small and remote farming village in New England that there had been a +lecture upon Browning in the town the week before, he stopped in +amazement, and said, "Well, that is the most surprising and +significant fact I have heard in America." + +It was in those early days of Browning's fame, and in the studio of +the sculptor Powers, in Florence, that the youthful Easy Chair took up +a visiting-card, and, reading the name Mr. Robert Browning, asked, +with eager earnestness, whether it was Browning the poet. Powers +turned his large, calm, lustrous eyes upon the youth, and answered, +with some surprise at the warmth of the question: + +"It is a young Englishman, recently married, who is here with his +wife, an invalid. He often comes to the studio." + +"Good Heaven!" exclaimed the youth, "it must be Browning and Elizabeth +Barrett." + +Powers, with the half-bewildered air of one suddenly made conscious +that he had been entertaining angels unawares, said, reflectively, "I +think we must have them to tea." + +The youth begged to take the card which bore the poet's address, and, +hastening to his room near the Piazza Novella, he wrote a note asking +permission for a young American to call and pay his respects to Mr. +and Mrs. Browning, but wrote it in terms which, however warm, would +yet permit it to be put aside if it seemed impertinent, or if, for any +reason, such a call were not desired. The next morning betimes the +note was despatched, and a half-hour had not passed when there was a +brisk rap at the Easy Chair's door. He opened it, and saw a young man, +who briskly inquired, + +"Is Mr. Easy Chair here?" + +"That is my name." + +"I am Robert Browning." + +Browning shook hands heartily with his young American admirer, and +thanked him for his note. The poet was then about thirty-five. His +figure was not large, but compact, erect, and active; the face smooth, +the hair dark; the aspect that of active intelligence, and of a man of +the world. He was in no way eccentric, either in manner or appearance. +He talked freely, with great vivacity, and delightfully, rising and +walking about the room as his talk sparkled on. He heard, with evident +pleasure, but with entire simplicity and manliness, of the American +interest in his works and in those of Mrs. Browning, and the Easy +Chair gave him a copy of Miss Fuller's paper in the _Tribune_. + +It was a bright and, to the Easy Chair, a wonderfully happy hour. As +he went, the poet said that Mrs. Browning would certainly expect to +give Mr. Easy Chair a cup of tea in the evening, and with a brisk and +gay good-bye, Browning was gone. + +The Easy Chair blithely hied him to the Cafe Done, and ordered of the +flower-girl the most perfect of nosegays, with such fervor that she +smiled, and when she brought the flowers in the afternoon, said, with +sympathy and meaning: "Eccola, signore! per la donna bellissima!" + +It was not in the Casa Guidi that the Brownings were then living, but +in an apartment in the Via della Scala, not far from the place or +square most familiar to strangers in Florence--the Piazza Trinita. +Through several rooms the Easy Chair passed, Browning leading the way, +until at the end they entered a smaller room arranged with an air of +English comfort, where, at a table, bending over a tea-urn, sat a +slight lady, her long curls drooping forward. "Here," said Browning, +addressing her with a tender diminutive--"here is Mr. Easy Chair." +And, as the bright eyes but wan face of the lady turned towards him, +and she put out her hand, Mr. Easy Chair recalled the first words of +her verse he had ever known: + + "'Onora, Onora!' her mother is calling, + She sits at the lattice, and hears the dew falling, + Drop after drop from the sycamore laden + With dew as with blossom, and calls home the maiden. + 'Night cometh, Onora!'" + +The most kindly welcome and pleasant chat followed, Browning's gayety +dashing and flashing in, with a sense of profuse and bubbling +vitality, glancing at a hundred topics; and when there was some +allusion to his "Sordello," he asked, quickly, with an amused smile, +"Have you read it?" The Easy Chair pleaded that he had not seen it. +"So much the better. Nobody understands it. Don't read it, except in +the revised form, which is coming." The revised form has come long +ago, and the Easy Chair has read, and probably supposes that he +understands. But Thackeray used to say that he did not read Browning +because he could not comprehend him, adding, ruefully, "I have no head +above my eyes." + +A few days later-- + + "O gift of God! O perfect day!"-- + +the Easy Chair went with Mr. and Mrs. Browning to Vallombrosa, and the +one incident most clearly remembered is that of Browning's seating +himself at the organ in the chapel, and playing--some Gregorian chant, +perhaps, or hymn of Pergolesi's. It was enough to the enchanted eyes +of his young companion that they saw him who was already a great +English poet sitting at the organ where the young Milton had sat, and +touching the very keys which Milton's hand had pressed. + +It was midsummer in Italy, but the high, narrow streets of Florence +hold a protecting shade over the lingering pilgrim, and from such +companionship as that of the Via della Scala even Venice long wooed in +vain. But at last, reluctantly, although the fascinating way lay +through Bologna and Ferrara, the journey began towards Venice; and in +that city, so early and always dear to Browning, whose romantic life +and story most deeply touched and stirred his imagination, and in +which he lately died, the Easy Chair received from the poet a glimpse +of his earliest impressions. + +Writing from Casa Guidi, in Florence, on the 9th of August, 1847--Casa +Guidi, upon which a tablet records that there Elizabeth Barrett and +Robert Browning lived, and "Casa Guidi Windows," "Sonnets from the +Portuguese," and "Aurora Leigh" were written--Browning says: + +"The people of the house there [Via della Scala] told us honestly + on the morning of your departure that they could only receive us + for a single month, at the expiration of which were to begin + certain whitewashings and repaintings. We continued our quest, + therefore, and at last found out this cool, airy apartment, + which we shall occupy for another month or six weeks, whatever + be our subsequent plans, for Rome, or for the Venice you + describe.... + + "I spent a month of entire delight there some eight years ago, + and tho' nothing I have since seen has effaced the impressions + of my visit, yet your fresher feelings _bring out_ whatever + looks faint or dubious in them, as a gentle sponging might + revive the gone glory of some old picture. (You must know I + have seen an exquisite copy of a Giorgione, the original of + which--so I was told--grew only visible and intelligible when + thus wetted.) I am glad the railroad and gas-lighting do Venice + no more wrong, and that you find all the old strange quietness, + and--ought I to be glad of this, too?--depopulation; for of + late years we have heard a great deal of the returning life and + prosperity of the place; and Mr. Valery, I observe, retracts + his earlier bodements of a speedy extinction of what little + glimmer of light he still saw. + + "As for me, I remember that the accounts of the depreciation of + the value of houses, coupled with the indifference of the + inhabitants of them, were enough to set one dreaming (in one's + gondola!) of getting to be as rich as Rothschild, buying all + Venice, turning out everybody, and ensconcing one's self in the + Doge's palace, among the dropping gold ornaments and flakes of + what was lustrous color in Titian's or Tintoret's time, waiting + for the proper consummation of all things and the sea's advent. + + "But do you really find the air so light and pure in this by + right mephitic time of August, with those close _calles_, + pestilential lagunes, etc., etc., and all that our informants + frighten us with? Should a winter in Venice prove no more + formidable in its way than it seems a summer does, why, we may + have cause to regret our determination to give up our original + plans. I am sure your kindness will tell us, should it be + enabled, any good news of the winter and spring climate--if + weak lungs may brave it with impunity.".... + +To this letter of Browning's, written in his young manhood--he was +then thirty-five--about the Venice which always charmed him, may be +well added the words of the Lady of Mura, written only a few weeks +before the poet's death. Asolo is a sequestered town, which Browning +said that he discovered, and in which he fell under the glamour of +very Italy. In the prologue to his last volume, written in September +before the letter that follows, the poet says: + + "How many a year, my Asolo, + Since--one step just from sea to land-- + I found you, loved, yet feared you so-- + For natural objects seemed to stand + Palpably fire-clothed!" + +The letter says: + + "I have bought in ancient Asolo a narrow, tall tower, into which + in the last century (very early) a house was built, and this + curious place I have selected for villeggiatura when the + scirocco is too strong in Venice for health or comfort. It was + here that Browning fifty years ago was inspired to write + 'Sordello' and 'Pippa Passes,' so to me it has that charm added + to many others. It is such a rough and out-of-the-way little + place that you may only know it by name. There is no hotel, no + railway, no factory, no sign of modern civilization. It is on a + hill, which has an ancient ruined fortress at the top, and was + an old Roman settlement, with the usual Roman _mise en scene_, + baths, amphitheatre, etc., in the days of Pliny, who somewhere + mentions it. + + "Near my tower, which is built in the ancient wall of the + mediaeval town, is the tower of Caterina Cornaro, and one sees + from most of my windows, so high are they, the whole Marca + Trevigiana, with its tragic and dramatic associations of the + early Middle Ages; the Eccelini, the Azzi, the incessant wars + in which towns were treated by the tyrants like shuttlecocks in + the game of battledoor. + + "Browning and his sister have been here for the last six weeks, + and you may fancy how intensely the poet enjoys revisiting + after so many years the scenes of his youthful inspirations. He + was only twenty-five or six when he first discovered Asolo.... + Few young people are so gay and cheerful as he and his dear old + sister.".... + +It is a pleasant last glimpse of Browning at Asolo, where the +master-spell of Italy first touched his genius, and whither at the end +he came--"_asolare_, to disport in the open air, amuse one's self at +random"--at heart and in temper of the same unquenched and +unquenchable vitality as on that summer day long ago when he sat where +Milton had sat, and pressed, as Milton had pressed, the keys of the +organ at Vallombrosa. + + "Ah, did you once see Shelley plain? + And did he stop and speak to you? + And did you speak to him again?-- + How strange it seems and new!" + + + + +PLAYERS. + + +It is no wonder that Longfellow wrote a sonnet to Mrs. Fanny Kemble +upon her Readings. Those evenings were indeed "happy," and "too +swiftly sped." Mrs. Kemble's ample person draped in gold-colored silk, +her flowing black hair folded and braided in some large style about +her head, her rich and low and exquisitely modulated voice, her +queenly presence, her magnificence of self-possession--all this +fascinating personality made her reading memorable, and like a torch +which reveals the perfect detail of great sculpture or architecture, +her genius gave the whole value to every character and scene of the +play. Did Whitfield pronounce the word Mesopotamia like a wind harp +sighing exquisite music? So Mrs. Kemble's recitation of the soliloquy +of Jaques left one line in the recollection of one hearer, which, like +an enchanted fruit, is constantly renewing its freshness and flavor. +It is one of the most familiar lines in Shakespeare, + + "All the world's a stage, + And all the men and women merely players." + +The Easy Chair was introduced to Mr. John Gilbert not very long before +the death of that delightful actor. It was in the morning, and Mr. +Gilbert was dressed with gentlemanly simplicity and propriety. But as +he bowed courteously the good player seemed to have stepped aside for +a moment from his real life, and to be not quite at ease when saluted +by his own name rather than by that of Sir Peter, or Squire +Hardcastle, or Sir Anthony Absolute. Methought, as the sages of the +theatre say, that the stage was a more natural life to him. He knew +the part of his own personality less familiarly than some other parts. +The modest gentleman seemed half anxious to escape, as if he were +caught in an undress, and pined for the security of the embroidered +coat of a character. + +Let us stop for a moment to say how fine he was in that embroidered +coat. It is hard to conceive that Mr. Gilbert can have any adequate +successor in his own parts. He created the standard, and when living +memory can no longer measure the comparative excellence of other +performances of them, they will be tested by the traditions of +Gilbert. The plain good-breeding of his Hardcastle had a rustic +quality, or flavor, rather, which was delicately discriminated from +the courtly refinement of his Sir Peter. There was the essential +gentleman in both, but it was the country gentleman in one and the +city gentleman in the other. The touch of chuckling senility in +Hardcastle's pleasure with Diggory's enjoyment of his stories, and the +uxorious fondness of Sir Peter, are both of a kind, but they are not +the same, and you feel the difference. Neither of these characters can +be dissociated from Gilbert by those who have seen him in them, and to +know that they will not be seen again under the same conditions and +support is to be conscious of a public loss. + +Mr. Gilbert was a professional player. But since Mrs. Kemble's voice +not only pronounced the words describing us all as players, but +suggested to that hearer the various significance of the words, how +the universality of the truth becomes more and more apparent! In all +the great interests of life--religion, politics, business--we have our +exits and our entrances, and, in this, unlike Gilbert, we show +ourselves to each other not as the men we are, but as players. Here is +Sylvanus, for instance, who may stand for us all, most amiable of men +if you could happen upon him in some happy undress moment. But they +are few. The poor fellow is cast for many parts, and he plays with +little intermission. + +One of his characters is the politician. He depicts a furious +partisan, and is so lost in his part that while the man Sylvanus +speaks the truth and desires it, yet in his character of politician it +is not truth or fair play that he wants, but whatever tends to advance +and aggrandize his party. He carefully depreciates those with whom he +does not agree. He cultivates distrust of every word spoken and every +deed done by the other party. Personally he likes many of his +opponents. His personal relations show that he does not really think +them the rascals and impostors and traitors that in his part of +politician he declares them to be. It seems often to a dispassionate +observer that when he accuses them as politicians of lying, cheating, +and stealing, he estimates them by his knowledge of himself as a +politician. He supposes that they would not hesitate to do what, +without compunction, he does himself. They are all players together, +and this is a kind of stage rant designed to impress the groundlings, +who, after all, compose the larger part of the audience. + +Sylvanus also plays the part of a religious sectary. As a private +person he enjoys greatly the wit and intelligence and stored +experience of life which distinguish his neighbor Eugenius. The purity +and elevation of his neighbor brighten the days on which they meet, +and he is always a better and a wiser man when they part. But these +are his off hours, his moments of vacation. He appears on the stage as +a sectary, and plays his part with resolute energy. This part again is +that of a man not pursuing truth, but so occupied with maintaining his +own conception of truth that he has no time to test it. It is a comedy +of great humor, because Sylvanus, as a sectary, stands against all +comers to protect a spring of deep and clear water, and is so +engrossed in guarding the sacred wave from the least pollution that he +does not find time to remark that it is not a spring at all, but a dry +sand-pit. + +In the incessant playing of all these parts to which his life and +powers are chiefly devoted the charming personality of Sylvanus is +quite lost. The man himself, divested of the stage costume and the +text of his parts, is almost unknown. Others could play the politician +or the sectary or the trader, but nobody could play Sylvanus. He is a +modest, intelligent man, who knows that nobody can pre-empt truth or +honesty or urbanity; that good men do not become bad by holding views +which he may think to be wrong; and that his friends may be deceived +as readily as the friends of others. These things, which he recognizes +as the merest commonplaces when he is off the stage, he derides as +utter nonsense when he is in the midst of a representation. Then, in +the most vehement way, which is the stage tradition of the part, he +shouts that everybody who would do well must run to his side, as if we +were all passengers on a ship which is capsizing, but would be righted +if everybody on board lost his own balance. + +It is because even such men as Sylvanus take to the stage that +Shakespeare, "sitting pensive and alone, above the hundred-handed play +of his imagination," calls all men and women merely players. Like John +Gilbert, although we do not play characters so amusing and harmless as +his upon the stage, when we are not on it we seem to be a little lost, +and secretly crave the theatre. It is remarked that when actors have +an off night they go and sit in front at the play. + +A charming comedy often arises from forgetfulness of the fact that a +play is a play, and not real. One of the finest and not unfamiliar +strokes of comedy in this kind is that of a seasoned veteran in the +part of a politician who turns upon another veteran with whom he +differs upon a question of expediency, and striking an attitude, with +an air and tone worthy of the great Folair himself, or Mr. Crummies in +his loftier moments, exclaims, "Apostate!" It is conceded that there +has been nothing finer on the stage since Dick Turpin pointed his +finger at Jonnathan Wild and sneered, impressively, "Thief!" + +It is well for the peace of mind of the nervously disposed to remember +that if we are all merely players, we must not take the play too +seriously. A play is a simulation for entertainment, and as we look at +Sylvanus and our other friends playing the politician or the sectary, +we must constantly bear in mind that it is a play, and only a play. If +we really thought he came hither as a man and not a sectary, for +instance, it were pity of our life. If the part is played too really, +let Sylvanus heed an earlier wisdom. "Let him name his name, and tell +them plainly he is Snug, the joiner." + + + + +UNMUSICAL BOXES. + + +It was a sage of the gentler sex who, after many years of experience, +remarked that "men are queer!" That they are so in a positive sense no +shrewd observer of mankind would deny, but that they are so +comparatively or absolutely would be a very hardy assertion. If the +queen of the household is of opinion that her associate majesty is +very queer because he enjoys a torrid height of the mercury in the +drawing-room, he holds probably a similar view of her fondness in the +dining-room for what he describes as burnt beef. A hopeless bachelor +who prided himself upon what he defiantly called his freedom, used to +say, with an air of commiseration and extreme caution, that he +supposed his married friends were probably what they called happy. But +he added that he never knew any of the happy pairs to agree upon the +proper warmth of a room, or the true turn of a roast, or the just +amount of fresh air. Still, he said, demurely, I do not assert that +their matrimonial felicity was not great. + +But the axiom of the sage of the better sex, that men are queer, has +been strongly confirmed by a recent decision of the authorities of the +Metropolitan Opera-house in New York. That important body, producing +the figures, has announced in effect that as it is clear from the +accounts that the presentation of German opera is more profitable than +that of Italian and French opera combined, it is evident that the +public desires to hear Italian and French opera, and therefore for the +present the German opera will be discontinued. This is certainly +delightful proof that men are queer, and that one respected group of +them by a signal display of queerness are anxious to contribute to the +gayety of nations. It is a striking illustration of the superiority of +man to money, and in the mad struggle for a mere material advantage, +this devotion to pure art, condemning the expense, is a noble tribute +to the unselfishness of human nature. + +Another view has been advanced which is also interesting to the +student of mankind. It is put in this way, that if the cost of the +Italian and French opera should be a hundred thousand dollars in a +season more than that of the German, yet it will be gladly paid by +those denizens of boxes who have an insatiable desire to proceed with +their intellectual cultivation by audible conversation during the +performance. The argument is that these devotees of the intellect hold +that nothing is lost by not hearing the Italian and French music, and +that the evening can be much more profitably devoted to the +stimulating conversation which takes place in an opera box. + +Still another view is even more honorable to the boxes, while it does +not depreciate the performance. This view holds that the operatic +situation offers a choice of delights, an embarrassment of riches. + +Charming and elevating as the music may be, yet still more lofty and +inspiring is the conversation, and the boxes are therefore compelled +to an alternative, and very naturally and properly choose their own +talk to the music. The decision of the authorities may be consequently +held to be designed to secure a continuation of conversation in the +boxes upon the lowest terms of loss. + +This cannot but be regarded by a judicious public as a wise +conclusion. It is, of course, desirable that the wit and wisdom of the +box chat should continue, but at the least sacrifice; and the least +sacrifice seems to be considered the Italian and French opera together +with a certain sum of money. Upon these lowest terms every friend of +humanity will be glad to know that the colloquial delights of the +boxes will be perpetuated. It is even hinted also that there will be +no disposition in an unmannerly parquet to hiss the interruption of +Italian and French opera. If the boxes think fit upon intellectual +grounds to accompany the dying falls of French and Italian strains +with a cheerful murmur of talk, the parquet will acquiesce without a +sense of loss, if, indeed, upon such occasions there should be any +parquet remaining. + +The noble sacrifice of those public benefactors, the unmusical boxes, +is still more strikingly illustrated by the fact that the Italian +opera droops in other operatic countries as with us, and that not only +in England, which has been the El Dorado of the artists of the +Southern school, but in Italy itself, the opera of Italy has declined. +The truth probably is that for some time in all musically cultivated +countries Italian opera, which was a traditional fashion, was largely +maintained as a social opportunity under conditions which most favored +personal display and made the least intellectual demand. It supplied +also to the society in the boxes at the San Carlo, the Pergola, the +Scala, the Italiens, and Her Majesty's, the entertainment, in the +persons of famous prima-donnas, of an extraordinary vocal performance. + +The charm of that performance was undeniable. The rippling and +glittering gayety of Rossini, the sweet and tender melody of Bellini, +the sparkle of Auber, the romantic pathos of Donizetti, the brilliant +melodramatic strain of Verdi--none who have felt the spell will deny +the enchantment. But _tempora mutantur_; one age with its spirit and +taste succeeds another. A deeper, stronger, more earnest taste in +music, a higher general cultivation, another theory of opera, have +come into the house and seated themselves in the parquet, and look +askance at the boxes as the Quartier St. Antoine looked upon the +Faubourg St. Germain. The boxes, with the innocent ignorance of the +_oeil-de-boeuf_, propose to maintain the old order, to stand by +Bellini and Donizetti and the last half-century. It is touching and +interesting. _Vive l'opera italienne! Vivent les loges!_ So Marie +Antoinette appeared in the balcony of the banqueting hall at +Versailles, and so the _garde du roi_ sprang to its feet with gallant +enthusiasm, rattling its sabres and pledging the Queen. It is a heroic +story, a romantic tradition.--And the Queen? And the _garde du roi_? + +The authorities of the opera invite the city to an interesting +entertainment. Nothing has seemed more natural than the precedence of +German opera at a time in which the German musical genius and +cultivation are dominant, and in a city in which the German audience +abounds. And now, for our pleasure, Sisyphus will take a turn at the +stone, and the lovely Danaides of the boxes, in the shining garments +of Worth, with soft disdain of difficulty, will essay with sieves of +the finest texture to bale out the ocean. + + + + +THE DINNER IN ARCADIA. + + +The Easy Chair went up lately to the hills to enjoy the annual dinner +at Arcadia. It is a summer feast which tradition assigns to some old +academy in those parts, supposed to have been founded by a pastor of +the village in the days before railroads, when there was no path to +Arcadia except that which is still sometimes pursued. It is a winding +sylvan way through woods and by singing streams and solitary farms, +and as you drive slowly on you feel yourself penetrating farther and +farther into a rural seclusion to which the modern world has hardly +found its way, and where you might expect to surprise a peaceful +community of ancient New England, as in threading the remoter recesses +and heights of the Catskill you might come upon a party of Hendrik +Hudson's crew. + +In this loneliness of the hills the young pastor, who was in delicate +health and unmarried, relieved the sombre severity of clerical life by +teaching a few boys and girls. By that fond indirection he brightened +with fresh air and natural music and sunshine the dry routine of his +unmated days. For the cheerless solemnity of the life of the country +clergy in those times it is hard to imagine. The missionaries to East +London tell us that the peculiar characteristic of that vast region, +swarming with human beings, is want of entertainment. The people there +do not laugh. They have no diversion. There is nothing pleasant to see +or to hear. It is a huge stone mill in which human life is ground up +in an endless and barren monotony of hard work. + +It is odd to trace any resemblance to it in a life so different; but +the old-fashioned Calvinistic divine in his small country parish, +revolving in an actual world of petty details, and in another world of +grim theological speculation and absorption in the contemplation of +death, must have seldom smiled. The young pastor was bound by no vow +of celibacy, but he knew that his life must be brief, and he gladly +surrounded himself with children in the guise of pupils, and when he +died he left a Bible to his church, a small sum for the education of +heathen youth in America, some manuscript sermons to his parents, and +the rest of his little property to found an academy for godly youth. + +This at least is the tradition. But when Silvertongue came once to the +dinner he put the story aside airily as a pleasant fiction, and +averred that the annual feast was instituted simply to glorify two +legendary friends of the town and enjoy them forever. This had a sound +that contrasted not inaptly with the seriousness of the hills, and +suggested an origin not unlike that of the feasts in the Lacedemonian +worship of the Dioscuri. Still another theory which is like to grow +with time associates it with the memory of two strangers of benignant +aspect, who appeared suddenly in the village like the gray-haired +regicide at Hadley, and aiding the towns-people not with a sword, but +with a bounty, departed. They are all pleasant tales. But the earliest +tradition is likely to be the truest. It was the good pastor who sowed +the modest seed which has now sprung up a hundred-fold. + +This year the text of the afternoon, for the dinner begins at one +o'clock, was the report of the census that the town is declining in +population. The guests were a company of the people of the hills. They +came from a circuit of a score of miles. The dinner is served cold, +and the guests feast + + "In summer, when the days are long, + On dainty chicken, snow-white bread," + +and by two o'clock the blue gauze is spread over the remnants, the +benches are turned so that the whole company faces the speakers, and +then speech begins. + +It was the verdict of the hills upon the report of the census that if +the number of individuals is decreasing, the number of families is +not. The ancient quiverfuls are disappearing, and the tale of children +in a family is diminishing. But the general welfare of the family +itself is increasing, while the marvellous facilities of communication +bring all resources into the hills, and the remote little village of +the old pastor is practically becoming a suburb. + +If a higher general welfare prevails, what matter if the population +somewhat declines? Quality is better than quantity. If, as a Senator +of Massachusetts says, the people of the hills are merely descending +into the valleys, who can complain if they bring with them the simple +and hardy virtues which grow upon the hills like the great +agricultural staples? Let the census say what it will, statistics need +not frighten until they show a decadence of character as well as a +decline of population. If, however, character is decaying, if the +primary conditions of that fundamental life of the country are +changing, a general change may be anticipated. But in Arcadia those +signs do not yet appear. Whether there are more or fewer persons than +there were fifty years ago, the comfort, the resources, the +opportunities are constantly greater. Undoubtedly they bring their +dangers and disadvantages. But the same steady force of character that +dealt with the old difficulties can deal with the new. + +Perhaps the trouble lies less in the depletion of the hills than in +the surfeit of the shore. The dragon of the glittering scales that +threatens American youth and maidens may be rather Sybaris by the sea +than Arcadia on the hills. It may be also rather the annual +half-million of utter aliens that come from other lands, strange to us +in everything that fosters a homogeneous national life, rather than +the hundreds who come down morally as well as numerically from the +uplands nearer heaven. + +So in the larger academy which the young pastor unconsciously founded +the various voices of suggestion, experience, and reflection spoke. It +was a rural feast, an Arcadian holiday, such as the Swedish poet +Tegner might have sketched in simple and melodious measure, or Grecian +artists carved upon a frieze. + +Then in the late and beautiful afternoon, and later in the light of +the full moon, the guests dispersed, weaving the fragmentary hints of +speech into completer views and purposes of patriotic life, as the +children of the fairies wove the scattered shreds of gold into shining +garments. Slowly over the hills by every bowery road, towards loftier +Goshen and Hawley, and higher Chesterfield, and Plainfield where +Byrant sang to the Water-fowl, down winding ways to Buckland and +Charlemont and Zoar, eastward to Conway and Deerfield and remoter +Sunderland, and all the wide valley of the Connecticut, the pilgrims +wended homeward. + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From the Easy Chair, vol. 1, by +George William Curtis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + +***** This file should be named 7475.txt or 7475.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/7/7475/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + 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'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/7475.zip b/7475.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d94165 --- /dev/null +++ b/7475.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80573bb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #7475 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7475) diff --git a/old/easch10.txt b/old/easch10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..922d2e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/easch10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4353 @@ +Project Gutenberg's From the Easy Chair, vol. 1, by George William Curtis +#3 in our series by George William Curtis +[See also etext #7445 for additional "Easy Chair" stories] + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: From the Easy Chair, vol. 1 + +Author: George William Curtis + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7475] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 7, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +[Illustration: Portrait of the author] + +FROM THE EASY CHAIR + +BY + +GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS + + + + +"I shall from Time to Time Report and Consider all Matters of what +Kind Soever that shall occur to Me." --THE TATLER. + + + +CONTENTS. + + +EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862 +AT THE OPERA IN 1864 +EMERSON LECTURING +SHOPS AND SHOPPING +MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN +DICKENS READING [1867] +PHILLIS +THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE +HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS +THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS [1871] +URBS AND RUS +RIP VAN WINKLE +A CHINESE CRITIC +HOLIDAY SAUNTERING +WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD [1881] +EASTER BONNETS +JENNY LIND +THE TOWN +SARAH SHAW RUSSELL +STREET MUSIC +A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY +CECILIA PLAYING +THE MANNERLESS SEX +ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE +PLAYERS +UNMUSICAL BOXES +THE ACADEMY DINNER IN ARCADIA + + + + +EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862. + + +The house was full, and murmurous with the pleasant chat and rustling +movement of well-dressed persons of both sexes who waited patiently +the coming of the orator, looking at the expanse of stage, which was +carpeted, and covered with rows of settees that went backward from the +footlights to a landscape of charming freshness of color, that might +have been set for the "Maid of Milan" or the pastoral opera. Between +the seats and the foot-lights was a broad space, upon which stood a +small table and two or three chairs; and if the orator of the evening, +like a _primo tenore_, had been surveying the house through the +friendly chinks of the pastoral landscape, he would have felt a warm +suffusion of pleasure that his name should be the magic spell to +summon an audience so fair, so numerous, and so intelligent. + +There were ushers who showed ladies to seats, and with their +dress-coats and bright badges looked like a milder Metropolitan +police. But no greater force was presumed to be required of them than +pressing aside a too discursive crinoline. In the soft, ample light, +as the audience sat with fluttering ribbons and bright gems and +splendid silks and shawls, so tranquilly expectant, so calmly smiling, +so shyly blushing (if, haply, in all that crowd there were a pair of +lovers!), it was hard to believe that civil war was wasting the land, +and that at the very moment some of those glad hearts were broken--but +would not know it until the sad news came. Yet it was easy, in the +same glance, to feel that even the terrible shape that we thought we +had eluded forever did not seem, after all, so terrible; that even +civil war might be shaking the gates and the guests still smile in the +chambers. + +But while leaning against the wall, under the balcony, the Easy Chair +looks around upon the humming throng and thinks of camps far away, and +beating drums and wild alarms and sweeping squadrons of battle, there +is a sudden hush and a simultaneous glance towards one side of the +house, and there, behind the seats at the side, and making for the +stage door, marches a procession, two and two, very solemn, very bald, +very gray, and in evening dress. They are the invited guests, the +honored citizens of Brooklyn, the reverend clergy, and others; a body +of substantial, intelligent, decorous persons. They disappear for a +moment within the door, and immediately emerge upon the stage with a +composed bustle, moving the seats, taking off their coats, sedately +interchanging little jests, and finally seating themselves, and gazing +at the audience evidently with a feeling of doubt whether the honor of +the position compensates for its great disadvantage; for to sit behind +an orator is to hear, without seeing, an actor. + +The audience is now waiting, both upon the stage and in the boxes, +with patient expectation. There is little talking, but a tension of +heads towards the stage. The last word is spoken there, the last joke +expires; all attention is concentrated upon an expected object. The +edge of eagerness is not suffered to turn, but precisely at the right +moment a figure with a dark head and another with a gray head are seen +at the depth of the stage, advancing through the aisle towards the +foot-lights and the audience. They are the president of the society +and the orator. The audience applauds. It is not a burst of +enthusiasm; it is rather applausive appreciation of acknowledged +merit. The gray-headed orator bows gravely and slightly, lays a roll +of MS. upon the table, then he and the president seat themselves side +by side. For a moment they converse, evidently complimenting the +brilliant audience. The orator, also, evidently says that the table is +right, that the light is right, that the glass of water is right, and +finally that he is ready. + +In a few neat words "the honored son of Massachusetts" is introduced, +and he rises and moves a few steps forward. Standing for a moment, he +bows to the applause. He is dressed entirely in black; wearing a +dress-coat, and not a frock. Before he says a word, although it is but +a moment, a sudden flash of memory reveals to the attentive Easy Chair +all that he has heard and read of the orator before him; how he +returned an accomplished scholar from Germany, graced with a delicacy +of culture hitherto unknown to our schools; how the youthful professor +of Greek at Harvard, transferred to the pulpit of Brattle Street, in +Boston, held men and women in thrall by the splendor of his rhetoric +and the pleading music of his voice, drawing the young scholars after +him, who are now our chief glory and pride; how his Phi Beta Kappa +oration in 1824 and its apostrophe to Lafayette, who was present, is +still the fond tradition of those who heard it; and how as he passed +on from triumph to triumph in his art of oratory, the elegance, the +skill, the floridity, the elaboration, the unfailing fitness and +severe propriety of his art, with all its minor gifts, consoled Boston +that it was not Athens or Rome, and had not heard Demosthenes or +Cicero. + +If you ventured curiously to question this fond recollection, to ask +whether the eloquence was of the heart and soul, or of the mind and +lips; whether it were impassioned oratory, burning, resistless, such +as we suppose Demosthenes and Patrick Henry poured out; or whether it +were polished and skilful declamation--those old listeners were like +lovers. They did not know; they did not care. They remembered the +magic tone, the witchery of grace, the exuberant rhetoric; they +recalled the crowds clustering at his feet, the gusts of emotion that +in the church swept over the pews, the thrills of delight that in the +hall shook the audience; their own youth was part of it; they saw +their own bloom in the flower they remembered, and they could not +criticise or compare. + +All this recollection flashed through the mind of the Easy Chair +before the orator had well opened his lips. The tradition was +overpowering. It was not fair, but it was inevitable. If we could see +and hear Patrick Henry, with uplifted finger, shouting, "Charles First +had his Cromwell, and George Third--may take warning by his example!" +would it be, could it be, even with all our expectation, what we +believe it to have been? After the tremendous blare of trumpets in +advance that shake our very souls within us, no ordinary mortal can +satisfy the transcendent anticipation. We lift the leathern curtain of +St. Peter's, and catching our breath, look in. Alas! we see plainly +the other end of the great church, but with secret disappointment, +because we imagined there would be but a dim immensity of space. For +the first time we behold Niagara, and resentfully we ask, "Is that +all?" The illimitable expectation is too bewildering an overture. So +the eyes with which the Easy Chair saw were touched with glamour. The +ears with which it heard were full of eloquence beyond that of mortal +lips. And there was the orator just beginning to speak. It was not +fair; no, it was not fair. + +The first words were clearly cut, simply and perfectly articulated. +"It is often said that the day for speaking has passed, and that of +action has arrived." It was a direct, plain introduction; not a florid +exordium. The voice was clear and cold and distinct; not especially +musical, not at all magnetic. The orator was incessantly moving; not +rushing vehemently forward or stepping defiantly backward, with that +quaint planting of the foot, like Beecher; but restlessly changing his +place, with smooth and rounded but monotonous movement. The arms and +hands moved harmonious with the body, not with especial reference to +what was said, but apparently because there must be action. The first +part of the discourse was strictly a lucid narrative of events and +causes: a compact and calm chapter of our political history by a man +as well versed in it as any man in the country; and it culminated in a +description of the fall of Sumter. This was an elaborate picture in +words of a perfectly neutral tint. There was not a single one which +was peculiarly picturesque or vivid; no electric phrase that sent the +whole striking scene shuddering home to every hearer; no sudden light +of burning epithet, no sad elegiac music. The passage was purely +academic. Each word was choice; each detail was finished; it was +properly cumulative to its climax; and when that was reached, loud +applause followed. It was general, but not enthusiastic. No one could +fail to admire the skill with which the sentence was constructed; and +so elaborate a piece of workmanship justly challenged high praise. But +still--still, do you get any thrill from the most perfect mosaic? + +Then followed a caustic and brilliant sketch of the attitude of +Virginia in this war. In this part of his discourse the orator was +himself an historic personage; for it was to him, when editor of the +_North American Review_, that James Madison wrote his letter +explanatory of the Virginia resolutions of '98. The wit that sparkled +then in the pages of the _Review_ glittered now along the speech. Here +was Junius turned gentleman and transfixing a State with satire. The +action of the orator was unchanged. But, in one passage, after +describing the wrongs wrought by rebels upon the country, he turned, +with upraised hand, to the rows of white-cravated clergymen who sat +behind him, and apostrophized them: "Tell me, ministers of the living +God, may we not without a breach of Christian charity exclaim, + + "'Is there not some hidden curse, + Some chosen thunder in the stores of heaven, + Red with uncommon wrath to blast the man + That seeks his greatness in his country's ruin?'" + +This passage was uttered with more force than any in the oration. The +orator's hands were clasped and raised; he moved more rapidly across +the stage; the words were spoken with artistic energy, and loudly +applauded. + +Thus far the admirable clearness of statement and perfect propriety of +speech, added to the personal prestige which surrounds any man so +distinguished as the orator, had secured a well-bred attention. But +there was not yet that eager, fixed intentness, sensitive to every +tone and shifting humor of the speaker, which shows that he thoroughly +possesses and controls the audience. There was none of that charmed +silence in which the very heart and soul seem to be listening; and at +any moment it would have been easy to go out. + +But when leaving the purely historical current the orator struck into +some considerations upon the views of our affairs taken by foreign +nations, the vivacious skill of his treatment excited a more vital +attention. There was a truer interest and a heartier applause. And +when still pressing on, but with unchanged action, he glanced at the +consequences of a successful rebellion, the audience was, for the +first time, really aroused. + +Let us suppose, said the orator, that secession is successful, what +has been gained? How are the causes of discontent removed? Will the +malcontents have seceded because of the non-rendition of fugitive +slaves? But how has secession helped it? When, in the happy words of +another, Canada has been brought down to the Potomac, do they think +their fugitives will be restored? No: not if they came to its banks +with the hosts of Pharaoh, and the river ran dry in its bed. + +Loud applause here rang through the building. + +Or, continued the orator, more vehemently, do they think, in that +case, to carry their slaves into territories now free? No, not if the +Chief-justice of the United States--and here a volley of applause +rattled in, and the orator wiped his forehead--not if the venerable +Chief-justice Taney should live yet a century, and issue a Dred Scott +decision every day of his life. + +Here followed the sincerest applause of the whole evening; and the +Easy Chair pinched his neighbor to make sure that all was as it +seemed; that these were words actually spoken, and that the orator was +Edward Everett. + +The hour and a half were passed. The peroration was upon the speaker's +tongue, closing with an exhortation to old men and old women, young +men and maidens, each in his kind and degree, to come as the waves +come when navies are stranded--to come as the winds come when forests +are rended--to come with heart and hand, with purse and +knitting-needle, with sword and gun, and fight for the Union. + +He bowed: the audience clapped for a moment, then rose and bustled +out. + +--It was not fair; no, it was not fair. The Easy Chair did not +find--how could it find?--the charm which those of another day +remembered. The oration was an admirable and elaborate address, full +of instruction and truth and patriotism, the work of a remarkably +accomplished man of great public experience. It was written in the +plainest language, and did not contain an obscure word. It was +delivered with perfect propriety, with the confidence that comes from +the habit of public speaking, and with artistic skill of articulation +and emphasis. As an illustration of memory it was remarkable, for it +was but the second time that the address had been spoken. It occupied +an hour and a half in the delivery, and yet the manuscript lay +unopened upon the table. Only three or four times was there any +hesitation which reminded the hearer that the speaker was repeating +what he had already written. His power in this respect has been often +mentioned. He is understood to have said that, if he reads anything +once, he can repeat it correctly; but if he has written it out, he can +repeat it exactly and always. This unusual facility secures to all his +addresses a completeness and finish which very few orators command. He +can say exactly what he means, and nothing more, being never betrayed +by confusion or sudden emotion to say, as so many speakers say, more +than they really think. + +But, on the other hand, it is doubtful whether all that electric +eloquence by which the hearer is caught up as by a whirlwind and swept +onward at the will of the orator, is not now a tradition in the +speeches of the orator. The glow of feeling, the rush of rhetoric, the +fiery burst of passionate power--the overwhelming impulse which makes +senates adjourn and men spring to arms--were they in the orator or in +the fascinated youth of those who remember the sermon in Brattle +Street, the apostrophe to Lafayette? + + + + +AT THE OPERA IN 1864. + + +It was a strange chance that took the Easy Chair, the other evening, +to the opera in the midst of a terrible war. But there was the scene, +exactly as it used to be. There were the bright rows of pretty women +and smiling men; the white and fanciful opera-cloaks; the gay rich +dresses; the floating ribbons; the marvellous _chevelures_; the +pearl-gray, the dove, and "tan" gloves, holding the jewelled fans and +the beautiful bouquets--the smile, the sparkle, the grace, the superb +and irresistible dandyism that we all know so well in the days of +golden youth--they were all there, and the warm atmosphere was sweet +with the thick odor of heliotrope, the very scent of _haute societe_. + +The house was full: the opera was "Faust," and by one of the exquisite +felicities of the stage, the hero, a mild, ineffective gentleman, sang +his ditties and passionate bursts in Italian, while the poor Gretchen +vowed and rouladed in the German tongue. Certainly nothing is more +comical than the careful gravity with which people of the highest +civilization look at the absurd incongruities of the stage. After the +polyglot love-making, Gretchen goes up steps and enters a house. +Presently she opens a window at which she evidently could not appear +as she does breast high, without having her feet in the cellar. The +Italian Faust rushes, ascends three steps leading to the window, which +could not by any possibility appropriately be found there, and +reclines his head upon the bosom of the fond maid. We all look on and +applaud with "sensation." But ought we not to insist, however, that +ladies in the play shall stand upon the floor, and that the floor in a +stately mansion shall not be two feet below the front door-sill? And +ought we not to demand that Faust shall woo Gretchen in their +mother-tongue? + +But we, the ludicrous public, who snarl at the carpenter and shoemaker +if the fitness of things be not observed; we, the shrewd critics, who +pillory the luckless painter who dresses a gentleman of the +Restoration in the ruff of James First's court, gaze calmly on the +most ridiculous anachronisms and impossibilities, and smite our +perfumed gloves in approbation. It is no excuse to say that the whole +thing is absurd; that people do not carry on the business of life in +song, nor expire in recitative. That is true, but even fairy tales +have their consistency. Every part is adapted to every other, and, in +the key, the whole is harmonious. Hermann, for instance, the basso, +who sang Mephistopheles, would have been quite perfect if he had only +remembered this. But he forgot that Mephisto is a sly and subtle +devil. He caricatured him. He made him a buffoon and repulsive. Such +extravagance could not have imposed upon Faust or Martha; yet we all +agreed that it was very fine, and amiably applauded what no opera-goer +of sense could seriously approve. + +You think that this is taking syllabub seriously, and that the +circumstances of the time had made the Easy Chair hypercritical. No; +it was only that there comes a time in theatre-going when the boxes +are more interesting than the stage. The mimic life fades before the +real. In the midst of the finest phrases of the impassioned Herr +Faust, what if your truant eyes stray across the parquette and see a +slight, pale figure, and recognize one of the bravest and most daring +Union generals, whose dashing assaults upon the enemy's works carried +dismay and victory day after day? Herr Faust trills on, but you see +the sombre field and the desperate battle and the glorious cause. +Gretchen musically sighs, but you see the brave boys lying where they +fell: you hear the deep, sullen roar of the cannonade; you catch far +away through the tumult of war the fierce shout of victory. And there +sits the slight, pale figure with eyes languidly fixed upon the stage; +his heart musing upon other scenes; himself the unconscious hero of a +living drama. + +Or, if you choose to lift your eyes, you see that woman with the +sweet, fair face, composed, not sad, turned with placid interest +towards the loves of Gretchen and Faust. She sees the eager delight of +the meeting; she hears the ardent vow; she feels the rapture of the +embrace. With placid interest she watches all--she, and the sedate +husband by her side. And yet when her eyes wander it is to see a man +in the parquette below her on the other side, who, between the acts, +rises with the rest and surveys the house, and looks at her as at all +the others. At this distance you cannot say if any softer color steals +into that placid face; you cannot tell if his survey lingers longer +upon her than upon the rest. Yet she was Gretchen once, and he was +Faust. There is no moonlight romance, no garden ecstasy, poorly +feigned upon the stage, that is not burned with eternal fire into +their memories. Night after night they come. They do not especially +like this music. They are not infatuated with these singers. They have +seats for the season; she with her husband, he in the orchestra +chairs. She has a pleasant home and sweet children and a kind mate, +and is not unhappy. He is at ease in his fortunes, and content. They +do not come here that they may see each other. They meet elsewhere as +all acquaintances meet. They cherish no morbid repining, no +sentimental regret. But every night there is an opera, and the theme +of every opera is love; and once, ah! once, she was Gretchen and he +was Faust. + +Do you see? These are three out of the three thousand. There is +nothing to distinguish them from the rest. Look at them all, and +reflect that all have their history; and that it is known, as this one +is known, to some other old Easy Chair, sitting in the parquette and +spying round the house. "All the world's a stage, and men and women +merely players." + +Is it quite so? Are these players? The young pale general there, the +placid woman, the man in the orchestra stall, have they been playing +only? There are scars upon that young soldier's body; in the most +secret drawer of that woman's chamber there is a dry, scentless +flower; the man in the orchestra stall could show you a tress of +golden hair. If they are players, who is in earnest? + + + + +EMERSON LECTURING. + + +Many years ago the Easy Chair used to hear Ralph Waldo Emerson +lecture. Perhaps it was in the small Sunday-school room under a +country meeting-house, on sparkling winter nights, when all the +neighborhood came stamping and chattering to the door in hood and +muffler, or ringing in from a few miles away, buried under +buffalo-skins. The little, low room was dimly lighted with oil-lamps, +and the boys clumped about the stoves in their cowhide boots, and +laughed and buzzed and ate apples and peanuts and giggled, and grew +suddenly solemn when the grave men and women looked at them. At the +desk stood the lecturer and read his manuscript, and all but the boys +sat silent and inthralled by the musical spell. + +Some of the hearers remembered the speaker as a boy, as a young man. +Some wondered what he was talking about. Some thought him very queer. +All laughed at the delightful humor or the illustrative anecdote that +sparkled for a moment upon the surface of his talk; and some sat +inspired with unknown resolves, soaring upon lofty hopes as they +heard. A nobler life, a better manhood, a purer purpose wooed every +listening soul. It was not argument, nor description, nor appeal. It +was wit and wisdom, and hard sense and poetry, and scholarship and +music. And when the words were spoken and the lecturer sat down, the +Easy Chair sat still and heard the rich cadences lingering in the air, +as the young priest's heart throbs with the long vibrations when the +organist is gone. + +The same speaker had been heard a few years previously in the Masonic +Temple in Boston. It was the fashion among the gay to call him +transcendental. Grave parents were quoted as saying, "I don't go to +hear Mr. Emerson; I don't understand him. But my daughters do." Then +came a volume containing the discourses. They were called _Essays_. +Has our literature produced any wiser book? + +As the lyceum or lecture system grew, the philosopher whom "my +daughters" understood was called to speak. A simplicity of manner that +could be called rustic if it were not of a shy, scholarly elegance; +perfect composure, clear, clean, crisp sentences; maxims as full of +glittering truth as a winter night of stars; an incessant spray of +fine fancies like the November shower of meteors; and the same +intellectual and moral exaltation, expansion, and aspiration, were the +characteristics of all his lectures. + +He was never exactly popular, but always gave a tone and flavor to the +whole lyceum course, as the lump of ambergris flavors the Sultan's +cups of coffee for a year. "We can have him once in three or four +seasons," said the committees. But really they had him all the time +without knowing it. He was the philosopher Proteus, and he spoke +through all the more popular mouths. The speakers were acceptable +because they were liberal, and he was the great liberalizer. They +were, and they are, the middle-men between him and the public. They +watered the nectar, and made it easy to drink. + +The Easy Chair heard from time to time of Proteus on the platform--how +he was more and more eccentric--how he could not be understood--how +abrupt his manner was. But the Chair did not believe that the flame +which had once been so pure could ever be dimmer, especially as he +recognized its soft lustre on every aspect of life around him. + +After many years the opportunity to hear him came again; and although +the experiment was dangerous the Chair did not hesitate to try it. The +hall was pretty and not too large, and the audience was the best that +the country could furnish. Every one came solely to hear the speaker, +for it was one lecture in a course of his only. It was pleasant to +look around and mark the famous men and the accomplished women +gathering quietly in the same city where they used to gather to hear +him a quarter of a century before. How much the man who was presently +to speak had done for their lives, and their children's, and the +country! The power of one man is not easily traced in its channels and +details, but it is marked upon the whole. The word "transcendentalism" +has long passed by. It has not, perhaps, even yet gone out of fashion +to smile at wisdom as visionary, but this particular wise man had been +acquitted of being understood by my daughters, and there were rows of +"hardheads," "practical people," curious and interesting to +contemplate in the audience. + +The tall figure entered at a side door, and sat down upon a sofa +behind the desk. Age seemed not to have touched him since the evenings +in the country Sunday-school room. As he stood at the desk the +posture, the figure, the movement, were all unchanged. There was the +same rapt introverted glance as he began in a low voice, and for an +hour the older tree shook off a ceaseless shower of riper, fairer +fruit. The topic was "Table-Talk, or Conversation;" and the lecture +was its own most perfect illustration. It was not a sermon, nor an +oration, nor an argument; it was the perfection of talk; the talk of a +poet, of a philosopher, of a scholar. Its wit was a rapier, smooth, +sharp, incisive, delicate, exquisite. The blade was pure as an icicle. +You would have sworn that the hilt was diamond. The criticism was +humane, lofty, wise, sparkling; the anecdote so choice and apt, and +trickling from so many sources, that we seemed to be hearing the best +things of the wittiest people. It was altogether delightful, and the +audience sat glowing with satisfaction. There was no rhetoric, no +gesture, no grimace, no dramatic familiarity and action; but the +manner was self-respectful and courteous to the audience, and the tone +supremely just and sincere. "He is easily king of us all," whispered +an orator. + +Yet it was not oratory either in its substance or purpose. It was a +statement of what this wise man believed conversation ought to be. Its +inevitable influence--the moral of the lecture, dear Lady Flora--was a +purification of daily talk, and the general good influence of incisive +truth-telling. If we have ever had a greater preacher of that gospel +who is he? + + + + +SHOPS AND SHOPPING. + + +If the stranger in New York, on any pleasant day, finds himself near +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage he will be in the midst of a very +pretty scene. Perhaps as he reads these words and asks the question +where that romantic cot may be found, he is comfortably seated in it, +with his feet placidly reposing upon its window-sills. It is, indeed, +in a new form. It no longer looks as it did to the early citizen of +fifty years ago, driving out before breakfast upon the Bloomingdale +Road, and surveying the calm river from the seclusion of Stryker's +Bay. It had an indefinable road-side English air in those far-off +mornings. The early citizen would not have been surprised had he heard +the horn of the guard merrily winding, and beheld the mail-coach of +old England bowling up to the door. There were fields and open spaces +about it, for it was on the edge of the city that was already reaching +out upon the island. Bloomingdale! Twas a lovely name, and 'tis a +great pity that the chief association with it is that of a very dusty +road. + +Meanwhile, if you will contemplate the Fifth Avenue Hotel you will see +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage in its present form. But what a +busy, brilliant neighborhood it is now! There are shops that recall +the prettiest upon the boulevards in Paris; and the people are greatly +to be pitied who are too fine to stop and look into them. To be too +fine is to lose much. Yet what scion of the golden youth of this +moment would dare to walk by the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway +Cottage eating an apple at three o'clock in the afternoon? + +There was a grave and well-dressed gentleman who stopped recently at +the stand of Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan, which is just in the midst of +the gay promenade, to transact some business in peanut candy. The +interest of the public in that operation was inconceivable. If he had +been Mr. Vanderbilt buying out Mr. Astor--if he had been a lunatic +astray from the asylum, or a clown escaped from the circus--he could +hardly have excited more attention. The passengers stared in +amazement. Some young gentlemen, escorting certain young ladies from +school, cracked excellent jokes upon the honest buyer of peanut candy; +and if his daughter or any friend had chanced to pass and had seen +him, she would probably have been seriously troubled and half ashamed. + +Now peanut candy is very good, and at Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan's +stand it is very cheap. Nobody is ashamed of liking it, nor of eating +it. If the grave gentleman had stepped into Caswell's brilliant shop, +let us suppose--where, perhaps, it is also sold--and had called for +that particular sweet, nobody would have stared nor made a joke nor +felt that it was extraordinary. Yet, how many of the brave generals in +the war, who charged in the very face of flaming batteries, would dare +to stop at Mrs. O'Finnigan's and buy ten cents' worth of peanut candy +if they saw Mrs. Sweller's carriage approaching, or Miss Dasher just +coming upon the walk? And as for the Misses Spanker, who daily drive +in that superb open wagon with yellow wheels, and who resemble nothing +so much as the figures in a Parisian doll-carriage, if they saw an +admirer of theirs bargaining for peanut candy at a street stand they +would not know him--they would no more bow to a man so lost to all the +finer sense of the _comme il faut_ than they would nod to a +street-sweeper. It is astonishing what an effect is produced upon some +human beings of the tender sex by clothing them in silks cut in a +certain form, and seating them in a high wooden box on yellow wheels. + +And upon us, also. When the Easy Chair beholds the silken Misses +Spanker rolling by, superior, upon those yellow wheels, it is with +difficulty that it recalls the cheese and sausage from which all that +splendor springs. To-morrow it will be Mrs. O'Finnigan's grandchildren +who will look down from their yellow wheels at the peanut and apple +stands, and wonder how persons can be so vulgar as to buy candy in the +streets. It is a whim of Mrs. Grundy's, who is all whimsey. She will +not let us buy a piece of simple candy at the corner, but she will +allow us to drag a silk dress over the garbage of the pavement. 'Tis a +whimsical sovereign. But we are so carefully trained that it is not +easy to disobey her. If to prove your independence you should stop to +buy the candy, would the pleasure of asserting yourself balance the +unpleasant consciousness that you were wondered at and laughed at? + +But the text was shops, and we have drifted into this episode because +Mrs. O'Finnigan sells peanut candy in her shop upon the sidewalk near +the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage, in the midst of the +gay spectacle of a summer day. And within a stone's-toss of her stand +how many fine houses you will see, and how many other fascinating +shops! Our English ancestors were called a shopkeeping nation by +Napoleon; but it is his own Frenchmen and Frenchwomen who have the +true secret of shopkeeping. They make shops fascinating. They have +made shopkeeping a fine art. The other day the Easy Chair stepped into +a shop in Maiden Lane, prepared to spend a very pretty sum of money, +for a very proper purpose. But if it had invaded the shopkeeper's +house, which is his castle, or threatened his hat, which is his crown, +it could not have been received more coolly. The disdainful +indifference with which its question was answered was exquisitely +comical; and the shopkeeper proceeded to look for what was required +with a superb carelessness, and an air of utter weariness and disgust +of this incessant doing of favors to the most undeserving and +insignificant people. It was plainly an act of pure grace that the +Easy Chair was not instantly shot into the street as rubbish, or given +in charge to the police as a common vagabond. + +This worthy attendant--doubtless very estimable in his private +capacity--is a serious injury to the business which he is supposed to +help. He does not in the least understand his profession. Let an Easy +Chair advise him to run over the sea to Paris, and observe how they +keep shop in that capital. Does he want a cravat? Here is a houri, +neatly dressed, evidently long waiting for him especially, and eager +to serve him. "Is it a cravat that Monsieur wishes? Charming! The most +ravishing styles are just ready! Is it blue, or this, or that, that +Monsieur prefers? Monsieur's taste is perfect. Look! It is a miracle +of beauty that he selects. Will he permit?" And before you know it, +you foolish fellow, who don't understand the first principle of your +calling--before you know it, she has thrown it around your neck, she +has tied it deftly under your chin, and that pretty face is looking +into yours, and that pleasant voice is saying, "Nothing could be +better. It is the most smiling effect possible!" You might as well +hope to escape the sirens, as to go from under those hands without +buying that cravat. + +This is shopkeeping, and a little study of the art, as thus practised, +would be of the utmost service to the Easy Chair's friend in Maiden +Lane. The shops there are pretty, and especially during the holidays +they are glittering, but they are a little cold and formal. The air of +the Boulevards is to be detected only in the neighborhood of Corporal +Thompson's Broadway Cottage. Whether cravats are there wafted around +the buyer's neck, as it were, entangling him hopelessly in silken and +satin webs, the Easy Chair does not know. But it can believe it, as it +passes by upon the outside, and beholds the windows which Paris could +hardly surpass. Through those windows it sees that, as in Paris, the +attendants are often women. It is thereby reminded that in Paris the +women are among the most accomplished accountants also; and it +remembers that in the same city men are cooks. It is very sure that +when Madame Welles, who was afterwards the Marchioness De Lavalette, +became at the death of her husband the head of the great +banking-house, her cook was a man. + +And thereupon the Easy Chair falls into meditation upon "the sphere" +of the sexes, and asks itself, as it loiters about the site of the +Broadway Cottage, admiring the pretty shops, whether, if it be womanly +for woman to keep shop and to acquire property by her faithful +industry, it can be manly for man to make laws appropriating and using +her property without her consent? + + + + +MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN. + + +Mrs. Grundy was lately astonished by the remark of a cheerful +cosmopolitan whom she proposed to introduce to a very rich man. She +seemed to catch her breath as she spoke of his exceeding great riches +in the tone of admiring awe which betrays the devout snob. The +cosmopolitan listened pleasantly as Mrs. Grundy spoke with the air of +proposing to him the greatest of favors and blessings. + +"You say he is very rich?" he asked. + +"Enormously, fabulously," replied Mrs. Grundy, as if crossing herself. + +"Will he give me any of his money?" + +Mrs. Grundy gazed blankly at the questioner. "Give you any of his +money? What do you mean?" + +"Mean?" answered the cheerful cosmopolitan; "my meaning is plain. If I +am introduced to a scholar, he gives me something of his scholarship; +a traveller gives me experience; a scientific man, information; a +musician plays or sings for me; and if you introduce me to a man whose +distinction is his riches, I wish to know what advantage I am to gain +from his acquaintance, and whether I may expect him to impart to me +something of that for which he is distinguished." + +Mrs. Grundy, who is easily discomposed by an unexpected turn in the +conversation, looked confused, but said, presently, "Why, you will +dine with the Midases and the Plutuses." + +"But they are merely the same thing," said the cosmopolitan, gayly. +"You know the story: Mr. and Mrs. MacSycophant, Miss MacSycophant, +Miss Imogen MacSycophant, Mr. Plantagenet MacSycophant, Miss Boadicea +MacSycophant--and more of the same. One MacSycophant is as good as +twenty, Mrs. Grundy; and as I know the Midases already, and find them +amusingly dull, why should I know the Plutuses, who are probably even +duller?" + +Mrs. Grundy looked as if transfixed. + +"Oh," continued the cosmopolitan, laughing, "I do not deny that money +is an excellent thing. I am glad that I am not in want of it. But it +is a dangerous thing to handle. If you don't manage it well it exposes +you terribly. Great riches are like an electric light--like a noonday +sun; they reveal everything. If a man stands in a ridiculous attitude, +or is clad scantily, the intense light displays him remorselessly to +every beholder. Great riches do the same. I saw you at the Midases', +dear Mrs. Grundy. Did you ever see a more sumptuous entertainment or a +more splendid palace? What pictures and statues and vases! what +exquisite and costly decoration! what gold and glass! what Sevres and +Dresden! But the more I admired the beautiful works of art, the more I +thought of the enthusiasm and devotion of the artist, the more I was +touched by the grace and delicacy of color and form around me; and the +more I heard Midas talk, the more clearly I saw that he did not see, +or feel, or understand anything of the real value and significance of +his own _entourage_. The more beautiful it was, the more plainly it +displayed his total want of perception of beauty. + +"His house is a magnificent museum. It is full of treasures. But they +all dwarf and deride him. They are so many relentless lights turned on +to show how completely he is not at home in his own house. He is as +much out of place among them as a horse in a studio. He has all the +proper books of a gentleman's library, and all superbly bound. What +does he know about them? He never read a book. He has marvellous +pictures. What does he know of pictures? He doesn't know whether +Gainsborough was a painter or a potter, or whether Giotto was a Greek +or a Roman. He has books and pictures merely because he has money +enough to buy them, and because it is understood that a fine house +should have a library and a gallery. Is it otherwise with his glass +and porcelain? What do you think that he could tell you of Dresden +china--its history, its masters, its manufacture? You say that very +few people could tell you much about it. Granted; but if a man +surrounds himself with it, and forces it upon your attention, you have +a right not only to ask such questions, but to expect answers. + +"My dear Mrs. Grundy, when I was a young man on my travels, and was +introduced at a London club, the porter, or the major-domo, or the +door-keeper, or whatever he was, seemed to me like a peer of the +realm. He was faultlessly dressed, and he had most tranquil manners. +Well, our good friend Midas is that gentleman. He is the curator of a +fine museum. He opens the door to a well-furnished club. But he is in +no proper sense master of his house. The master of such a house, as +Goethe said of the picture-owner, is the man to whom you can say, +'Show me the best.' Poor Midas could only show us the costliest. Eh, +Mrs. Grundy?" + +That excellent lady's eyes had expanded, during these remarks, until +they were fixed in a round, stony stare at the cheerful cosmopolitan. + +"And this, you see, my good lady, is the reason that all this display +is called vulgar. It represents nothing but money. It does not +represent taste, or intelligence, or talent, in the possessor, and the +sole relation between him and his possessions is his ability to pay +for them. You drink his superior wines. But even you, Mrs. Grundy, are +not quite sure that he could distinguish between the finest madeira +and a common sherry. That is no fault, surely, but there is a great +difference between wines. + +"When you kindly offer to present me to a gentleman of whom you can +say only that he is very rich, and I ask you if he will give me some +of his money, you look surprised and shocked. But I am not a +misanthrope, and I ask a question which you can answer affirmatively. +He will give me some of his money in giving me some of the pleasure +which is derivable from what his money buys. For that I am grateful. I +tip the custode with my sincere thanks. I bow to the door-keeper with +hearty acknowledgment. I shall go again and again with great pleasure. +But I shall not make the singular mistake of supposing that he bears +the same relation to his possessions that the musician bears to his +music, and the scholar to his knowledge, and the traveller to his +shrewd observation. + +"You think that I am basely looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not at +all. I am only declining to believe the porter to be a peer of the +realm merely because he wears a white cravat and has tranquil manners. +If Midas is a dull man, all the money in the world does not make him +interesting. But if he has accumulated beautiful and interesting +things, I shall gladly go to his house and see them. Now, my dear Mrs. +Grundy, that is very different from going to his house to see the +Plutuses. They are not the possessions that make his house desirable. +My young friend Hornet says that if the only way to drink Midas's +gold-seal Johannisberger is to take Mrs. Plutus down to dinner, he +will not hesitate to pay the price, as he is willing to pay the price +of sea-sickness if he wishes to see the Vatican. Does my dear Mrs. +Grundy comprehend?" + +--But the good lady was gone. She could draw but one conclusion from +such a strain of remark about people with fabulous incomes. The +cheerful cosmopolitan must have been dining with Mr. Midas, and must +have sat much too long at table. What a pity that so pleasant a man +should permit himself such excesses! There was, however, but one +course for a self-respecting woman to pursue--Mrs. Grundy had left him +alone. + + + + +DICKENS READING. [1867.] + + +When, hereafter, some chance traveller picks up this odd number of an +old magazine and opens to this very page, let him know that the +evening of Dickens's first reading in New York was bright with +moonlight veiled in a soft gray snow-cloud. The crowd at the entrance +was not large. The speculators in tickets were not troublesome, +because all the tickets had been long sold. The police, as usual, were +polite and efficient; and going up the steep staircase, and passing +through the single door, we were all quietly and pleasantly seated by +eight o'clock. The floor of Steinway Hall is level, so that the +audience is lost to itself; but it was easy for all of us to perceive, +by scanning our neighbors, that we were a very fine body of people. At +least everybody who was present said so. We all remarked that the +intelligence and distinction of the city were present, and that it +must be extremely gratifying to Mr. Dickens to be welcomed by the most +intellectual and appreciative audience that could be assembled in New +York. + +The details of the arrangement upon the platform, the screen behind, +the hidden lights above and below, and the stiff little table with the +water-bottle, are familiar. But as we all sat looking at them, and at +the variously splendid toilets that rustled in, and fluttered, and +finally settled, it was not possible to escape the great thought that +in a few moments we should see at that queer, stiff table the creator +of Sam Weller, and Oliver Twist, and Micawber, and Dick Swiveller, and +the rest of the endless, marvellous company--the greatest story-teller +since Scott, one of the most famous names in literature since +Fielding. When he was here before Carlyle growled in _Past and +Present_ about "Schnauspiel, the distinguished novelist," and there +were some who laughed. But the laugh has passed by.--Look! There is a +man, who looks like somebody's "own man," who scuffles across the +stage and turns up a burner or two; and he is scarcely out of the way +when--there he comes, rapidly, in full evening dress, with a heavy +watch-chain, and a nosegay in his button-hole, the world's own man. + +His reception was sober. The whole audience clapped its gloved hands. +Not a heel, not a cane, mingled with the sound, not a solitary voice. +It was a very muffled cordiality, an enthusiasm in kid gloves. The +Easy Chair, for one, longed to rise and shout. Heaven has given us +voices, brethren, with which to welcome and salute our friends, and if +ever a long, long cheer should have rung from the heart, it was when +the man who has done so much for all of us stood before us. But it was +useless. The steady clapping was prolonged, and Dickers stood calmly, +bowing easily once or twice, and waiting with the air of one ready to +begin business. + +The instant there was silence he did begin: "Ladies and gentlemen, I +am to have the honor of reading to you this evening the trial-scene +from Pickwick, and a Christmas Carol in a prelude and three scenes. +Scene first, Marley's Ghost. Marley was dead, to begin with." These +words, or words very similar, were spoken in a husky voice, not +remarkable in any way, and with the English cadence in articulation, a +rising inflection at the end of every few words. They were spoken with +perfect simplicity, and the introductory description was read with +good sense, and conveyed a fine relish upon the reader's part of the +things described. There was nothing formal, no effort of any kind. The +left hand held the book, the right hand moved continually, slightly +indicating the action described, as of putting on a muffler, or +whatever it might be. But the moment Scrooge spoke the drama began. + +Every character was individualized by the voice and by a slight change +of expression. But the reader stood perfectly still, and the instant +transition of the voice from the dramatic to the descriptive tone was +unfailing and extraordinary. This was perfection of art. Nor was the +evenness of the variety less striking. Every character was indicated +with the same felicity. Of course the previous image in the hearer's +mind must be considered in estimating the effect. The reader does not +create the character, the writer has done that; and now he refreshes +it into unwonted vividness, as when a wet sponge is passed over an old +picture. Scrooge, and Tiny Tim, and Sam Weller and his wonderful +father, and Sergeant Buzfuz, and Justice Stareleigh have an intenser +reality and vitality than before. As the reading advances the spell +becomes more entrancing. The mind and heart answer instantly to every +tone and look of the reader. In a passionate outburst, as in Bob +Cratchit's wail for his lost little boy, or in Scrooge's prayer to be +allowed to repent, the whole scene lives and throbs before you. And +when, in the great trial of Bardell against Pickwick, the thick, fat +voice of the elder Weller wheezes from the gallery, "Put it down with +a wee, me Lerd, put it down with a wee," you turn to look for the +gallery and behold the benevolent parent. + +Through all there is a striking sense of reserved power, and of +absolute mastery of the art. There is no straining for points, no +exaggeration, no extravagance, but an instinctive and adequate outlay +of means for every effect, and a complete preservation of personal +dignity throughout. The enjoyment is sincere and unique; and when the +young gentleman before us remarks to the flossy young woman at his +side that "any clever actor can do the thing as well," we congratulate +him inwardly upon his experience of the theatre. Perhaps, also, the +flossy young woman is of opinion that any clever author can write as +well as this reader. + +There is a serious drawback to this first evening's enjoyment, +however, and that is that fully a third of those present hear very +imperfectly. Nothing can surpass the air of mingled indignation, +chagrin, and disappointment with which a severe lady just behind +declares that she did not hear a word, and adds, caustically, that the +spectacle alone is hardly worth the money. Not worth the money? Dear +Madam, the Easy Chair would willingly pay more than the price of +admission merely to see him. And just as he is thinking so another +friend leans forward and says, in a decided tone of utter +disappointment, "Just let me take your glass, will you? I can't hear a +word, but I should like to see how the man looks." As the Easy Chair +passes out of the door he encounters Mr. and Mrs. Sealskin, sailing +smoothly and silently out. "How delightful!" exclaims the innocent and +unwary Chair. "Didn't hear a word," says Mr. Sealskin, sententiously, +and without pausing in his course; and Madam upon his arm raises her +eyebrows and looks emphatically "not a word!" So the Easy Chair +gradually discovers that there has been a very wide and lamentable +disappointment, and that a large part of the throng has been +tantalized through the evening in the vain effort to hear--catching a +few words and losing the point of the joke. No wonder they are very +sober, and sail out of the hall very steadily, with an air of thinking +that they have been victims, but also with the plain wish to think as +well of Mr. Charles Dickens as circumstances will allow. Still, they +evidently hold him, upon the whole, responsible, just as an audience +assembled to hear a lecture, and obliged to go unlectured away, holds +the lecturer--chafing in a snow-bank upon the railroad fifty miles +away--responsible for its disappointment. It is pleasant for the +Sealskins to read, as the Easy Chair did the next morning, in the +ever-veracious and independent press, that Mr. Dickens's voice is +heard with ease in every part of the hall. + +But let them feel as they may, those who did not hear are sure to go +again, and if they hear the next time, again and again. Let the future +reader of this odd number of a magazine learn further that such was +the popular eagerness to attend these readings that people gathered +before light to stand in the line of the ticket-office. One historic +boy is said to have passed the night in the cold waiting for the +opening of the office, and to have sold his prize for thirty dollars +in gold to "a Southerner." Another person was offered twenty dollars +for his place in the line, with merely a chance of getting a ticket +when his turn came at the office. + +The interest was unabated to the end, and under the personal spell of +the enchanter that old ill-feeling towards the author of _American +Notes_ and the creator of Chuzzlewit melted away. And why not? Do we +not all know our Yankee brother of whom Dickens told us, who has a +huge note of interrogation in each eye, and can we blame the +Englishman for using his own eyes? Is not that silent traveller whom +he saw still to be seen in every train sucking the great ivory head of +his cane and taking it out occasionally and looking at it to see how +it is getting on? If we had been a little angry with Lemuel Gulliver +or Robinson Crusoe, could our anger have survived hearing one of them +tell his story of Liliput, or the other the tale of the solitary +island? + +After his little winter tour Dickens returned to New York to take +leave of the American public. On the Saturday evening before the final +reading the newspaper fraternity gave him a dinner at Delmonico's, +which was then at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fourteenth Street, +formerly the hospitable house of Moses H. Grinnell. At this dinner Mr. +Greeley presided, and that the bland and eccentric teetotaler, who was +not supposed to be versed in what Carlyle called the "tea-table +proprieties," should take the chair at a dinner to so roistering a +blade--within discreet limits--and so skilled an artist of all kinds +of beverages as Dickens, was a stroke of extravaganza in his own way. +The dinner was in every way memorable and delightful, but the +enjoyment was sobered by the illness of the guest from one of the +attacks which, as was known soon afterwards, foretold the speedy end. +It was, indeed, doubtful if he could appear, but after an hour he came +limping slowly into the room on the arm of Mr. Greeley. + +In his speech, with great delicacy and feeling, Dickens alluded to +some possible misunderstanding, now forever vanished, between him and +his hosts, and declared his purpose of publicly recognizing that fact +in future editions of his works. His words were greeted with great +enthusiasm, and on the following Monday evening he read, at Steinway +Hall, for the last time in this country, and sailed on Wednesday. He +was still very lame, but he read with unusual vigor, and with deep +feeling. As he ended, and slowly limped away, the applause was +prodigious, and the whole audience rose and stood waiting. Reaching +the steps of the platform he paused, and turned towards the hall; +then, after a moment, he came slowly and painfully back again, and +with a pale face and evidently profoundly moved, he gazed at the vast +audience. The hall was hushed, and in a voice firm, but full of +pathos, he spoke a few words of farewell. "I shall never recall you," +he said, "as a mere public audience, but rather as a host of personal +friends, and ever with the greatest gratitude, tenderness, and +consideration. God bless you, and God bless the land in which I leave +you!" The great audience waited respectfully, wistfully watching him +as he slowly withdrew. The faithful Dolby, his friend and manager, +helped him down the steps. For a moment he turned and looked at the +crowded hall. It was full of hearts responding to his own. There was a +common consciousness that it was a last parting, and his fervid +benediction was silently reciprocated.--Then the door closed behind +him. + + + + +PHILLIS. + + +There is one lady in literature and in life whom all men are said, not +without gentle sarcasm if a woman says it, to wish especially to know. +She is declared to be the vision that haunts the youth as his heart +opens to the soft influences of love, and her figure, trim and +debonair, that allures the older fancy of the man who sits "alone and +merry at forty year," having seen his earlier Gillian and Marian and a +score more happily married. She is, in fact, the domestic magician, +the good fairy, the genius of home, the thoughtful, tactful, careful, +intelligent house-keeper, the very she whom Milton sings, introducing +us to + + "Herbs and other country messes + Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses." + +Her name is Phillis--not exactly a romantic name, nor, indeed, is it +meant by the poet to be a romantic name; for he has just before +sketched another kind of woman: + + "Towers and battlements it sees + Bosom'd high in tufted trees, + Where perhaps some beauty lies, + The cynosure of neighboring eyes." + +Such a cynosure could not possibly have been named Phillis: Artemis, +perhaps, or Hildegarde; Constance, Una, Mildred, or Cunigunda, but by +no possibility Phillis. That is a pastoral name, a shepherd's +sweetheart. Indeed, the two kinds of women are perfectly indicated and +distinguished in these lines of _L'Allegro_, which have no detail of +description. The impression of womanly difference is nowhere more +completely given. One picture is that of the lofty, haughty, "highborn +Helen," the superb Lady Clara Vere de Vere; the other is that of the +thrifty Baucis, the gardener Adam's wife. And the two are as near in +the young man's heart as they are in the poem. + +When Mr. William Guppy raised his eyes from the pit of the theatre to +Miss Esther Summerson sitting in the boxes, the "image imprinted on +his 'art" was that of the cynosure of neighboring eyes, stately among +stately towers and ancestral trees. But doubtless when Mr. William +Guppy, as lovers will, abandoned himself to blissful dreams of the +possible home that should grow out of his lofty passion, it was +another vision that he saw; it was the high-born Helen coming down to +breakfast in a sweet morning-cap, a neat-handed Phillis. For love, +which soars and sings, also builds its nest. The one instinct is as +deep and sure as the other. The cynosure of worshipping hearts and +eyes is but the romantic aspect of Phillis: and because she is so +lofty and so lovely will she be the miracle-worker in the household. +The secret sorrow of a thousand homes is that the lady of the towers +and battlements does not prove in fact to be also the neat-handed +Phillis. + +Indeed, it is a kind of national complaint and lamentation that the +neat-handed Phillis is disappearing altogether. This is the +significance of the servant-girl question. This is the root of the +alarming conviction that Phillis is changing into Biddy, whose fit +epithet is not neat-handed. This is the meaning of the cry for +bread--light, sweet, well-baked bread; not the clammy dough which is +served to a despairing land. This is the reason of the wondering +question, What has become of roast meat? and of the melancholy +conviction that henceforth baked beef is to replace the juicy sirloin +of tradition, history, and elegant literature. + +Of the accomplished and intelligent young women who honor the Easy +Chair at this moment with their attention, of course the immense +majority can broil a steak to a turn, or mix the airiest bread, or +boil potatoes as new-fallen snow. But there are some unfortunates who +cannot do it. Let us pity them. They would probably tell us that they +have not studied poetry and music, the French language, crochet, and +the Boston, to become kitchen drudges: and they will not fail to +remind us that Cinderella did not charm the prince as a kitchen-maid, +and that she had ceased to be Cinderbreech, and had emerged from the +chimney-corner when she married him. But will they please to curb +their wrath for a moment and listen to Dr. Clarke? "Unless men and +women both have brains, the nation will go down. As much brain is +needed to govern a household as to command a ship; as much to guide a +family aright as to guide a Congress aright; as much to do the least +and the greatest of woman's work as to do the least and the greatest +of man's work." + +Now, the dressing of messes by the neat-handed Phillis is one of the +important elements of governing a household; and the Princess +Cinderella was the better housewife because she had once been +Cinderbreech. Nelson was the better admiral because he had once been +cabin-boy. Dickens was the better story-teller because he had once +been reporter. If, indeed, Darby can afford to pay a hundred dollars +monthly to a _chef_, Joan need know nothing of messes; but how many +such Darbys are there? + +These remarks, or similar ones, have been often heard by the gentler +reader, and are somewhat familiar to her, not to say wearisome. "Oh +yes," she says, "I know all this: men want women in the family to be +angels and French cooks rolled into one. Heaven save the mark! Suppose +that women on their side were to expect men in the family to be heroes +and gentlemen as well as 'good providers?'" + +Well, madame, they ought to expect it and to insist upon it. Perhaps +you have played the little game of parlor magic? There are homes in +which that game is always played, and they are the happiest of all. In +them the real value of neatness and order, of thrift and taste and +temperance, is understood, and the Beauty who once lay lapped in lofty +towers knows that the romance which enshrined her amid those +battlements and tufted trees is preserved and forever refreshed by the +art of the neat-handed Phillis. And, madame, upon _his_ side _he_ does +not reverse the order of the story and of nature, and sink from the +Prince into the Beast. + + + + +THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE. + + +The last time that the Easy Chair saw that remarkable man, Henry +Thoreau, he came quietly into Mr. Emerson's study to get a volume of +Pliny's letters. Expecting to see no one, and accustomed to attend +without distraction to the business in hand, he was as quietly going +out, when the host spoke to him, and without surprise, and with +unsmiling courtesy, Thoreau greeted his friends. He seated himself, +maintaining the same habitual erect posture, which made it seem +impossible that he could ever lounge or slouch, and that made +Hawthorne speak of him as "cast-iron," and immediately he began to +talk in the strain so familiar to his friends. It was a staccato style +of speech, every word coming separately and distinctly, as if +preserving the same cool isolation in the sentence that the speaker +did in society; but the words were singularly apt and choice, and +Thoreau had always something to say. His knowledge was original. He +was a Fine-ear and a Sharp-eye in the woods and fields; and he added +to his knowledge of nature the wisdom of the most ancient times and of +the best literature. His manner and matter both reproved trifling, but +in the most impersonal manner. It was like the reproof of Pan's +statue. There seemed never to be any loosening of the intellectual +tension, and a call from Thoreau in the highest sense "meant +business." + +On the morning of which we are speaking the talk fell upon the +Indians, with whom he had a profound sympathy, and of whose life and +ways and nature he apparently had an instinctive knowledge. In the +slightly contemptuous inference against civilization which his remarks +left, rather than in any positively scornful tone, there was something +which rather humorously suggested the man who spoke lightly of the +equator, but with the difference that there would have been if the +light speaking had left a horrible suspicion of that excellent circle. +For Thoreau so ingeniously traced our obligations to the aborigines +that the claims of civilization for what is really essential palpably +dwindled. He dropped all manner of curious and delightful information +as he went on, and it was sad to see in the hollow cheek and the +large, unnaturally lustrous eye the signs of the disease that very +soon removed him from among us. Those who remember him, and were +familiar with his truly heroic and virtuous life, or those who +perceive in his works that spirit of sweetness and content which made +him at the last say that he was as happy to be sick as to be well, +will apply to him the words of his own poem in the first number of the +_Dial_: + + "Say not that Caesar was victorious, + With toil and strife who stormed the House of Fame; + In other sense this youth was glorious, + Himself a kingdom wheresoe'er he came." + +His talk of the Indians left an impression entirely unlike that of the +Cooper novel and the red man of the theatre. It was untouched by +romance or sentimentality. It made them a grave, manly race, +intimately familiar with nature, with a lofty scorn of feebleness. The +sylvan shade and the leafy realm and Arden and pastoral poetry were +wholly wanting in the picture he drew, quite as much as the theory +that they are vermin to be exterminated as fast as possible. He said +that the pioneers of civilization, as it is called, among the Indians +are purveyors of every kind of mischief. We graft the sound native +stock with a sour fruit, then denounce it bitterly and cut it down. +What was most admirable in Daniel Boone, he said, was his Indian +nature and sympathy; and the least admirable part was his hold, such +as it was, upon civilization. He seemed to imply that if Boone could +only have succeeded in becoming an Indian altogether, it would have +been a truly memorable triumph. Thoreau acknowledged that the Indian +was not only doomed, but, as he gravely said, damned, because his +enemies were his historians; and he could only say, "Ah, if we lions +had painted the picture!" + +The sylvan idea of Daniel Boone would probably have been very rudely +shattered could he have been actually seen; and Thoreau's Indian was +certainly not visible in the stories of men of his time who had passed +weeks among the Indians upon the plains. The pioneers, like Boone, are +not romantic; their life is a hard toil and struggle; they are +ignorant, rude, and even repulsive. This is natural, because their +real work is that of the subsoil plough and the harrow. They lay the +strong foundations. Without them, no soft waving field of golden +harvest, no velvet lawn, no Palladian villa, no flower of art and +culture--in a word, no progress, as we call it--however the shade of +Thoreau may implacably smile. So when the Lady Cavaliere whispered +from under her beaded veil, "Don't speak of it, but I am tired to +death of reformers," it was only the artist's impatience of the +ploughman; it was Rupert and his men not only sneering at Praise God +Bare-bones, and singing their mock prayer in the Lenten litany, + + "That it may please thee to suppose + Our actions are as good as those + That gull the people through the nose," + +but heartily believing Cromwell and his men to be canting hypocrites. + +And yet the Lady Cavaliere is too well informed not to know that it +was not the silken chivalry who planted the king's standard and +defended it with all heroism, in whose praise the poets sang, who are +still the heroes of romance, and whose life had the charm of grace and +ease and accomplishment and _savoir faire_, that saved England and a +great deal more. The lady has sauntered through the palaces where the +Vandyck portrait of the king hangs upon the walls, the handsome, +melancholy Stuart. She looked at it secretly, perhaps, with something +of the same feeling that men think of the hapless Mary, as we call +her. What a gentleman! how refined! how sad! how agreeable to the +fancy! Yes, dear lady, and what a liar! how false-hearted! who would +have had his own foolish way whatever happened to other men! He would +have gratified your taste to the utmost; you would never have said +under your breath, "How I hate reformers!" he would have, perhaps, +carried your imagination and taste against your conscience and +judgment. And it is for that very reason--because taste and +imagination are so subtly seductive--that it is essential to challenge +them. St. Anthony did not mind the devil as a dragon; but the devil as +a siren--ah! how hard St. Anthony had to pray! + +Change is apt to present itself first in its unhandsome aspect. You +would much rather hear a lute in the moonlight upon the lawn, and +behold! a coarse plough and a frightful harrow. Yet, so lutes and +lawns begin. You like the smooth music of a silken court, the +picturesque ceremony, the poetic tradition, the perfume, the splendor, +and lo! a troop in jerkin pricking to the fray in horrible earnest, +and blood, and ghastly wounds, and torture, and merciful death! Yet, +so courts and ceremonies are instituted. One of the hardest battles +that reform has to fight is this battle in the air--so to speak: this +contest with taste and imagination that cling to the myriad-hued moss +and the delicate vine fringe upon the ogre's castle, and that find the +donjon so much more picturesque than the house. + +A cause is seen through its pioneers, and taste and imagination are +confused and confounded in the medium. A nature like Falkland's could +not see liberty clearly even through John Pym--how much less through +nasal psalm-singing butchers and brewers building a scaffold for the +king. So, in our own time, the great question that so sorely rent us +was seen by taste and imagination in the form of delicate, +highly-cultured women, of a superficial tranquil elegance of society, +of patriarchal tradition, of easy knowledge of the world, and the +smooth habit of society upon the one hand; and upon the other, often +in the form of a queer medley of grotesque people, each more +extravagant than the other, and uttering the wildest sentiments in the +most absurd rhetoric. The Lady Cavaliere has not forgotten that the +last retreat of the doomed system was the salon and the boudoir, where +taste is law, and where decorous immorality is not unwelcome. + +By-and-by, when the reform is established and has become traditional, +its pioneers become heroic and poetic. The Norman robber is then +discovered to be a kind of blue-blooded gentleman, or at least the +sturdy, aboriginal father of gentlemen. The rough and half-savage +Boone is the ideal frontiersman, with a smack of Arden and the sylvan +realm. And as for the coarse-toothed harrow--as my Lady Cavaliere sits +upon the porch and sees the peacock unfolding his glory upon the soft, +thick sward, do you see that my lady wears a delicate trinket around +her swan neck, and lo! it is a harrow exquisitely wrought in gold. + +The feeling with which she breathed through her beaded veil her +dislike of pioneer reformers is as old as human nature. But it was not +the sigh of wisdom, but of weariness, in my lady. There is a certain +insight even in gentle youth which does not recoil from the pioneer, +and foresees the soft sward springing under the harrow as it tears the +heavy clods. Those in whom youth abides never outgrow that precious +insight and foresight. One such, not less fair than my Lady Cavaliere, +of the most tranquil and undemonstrative behavior, has long been to +how many good causes one of the most valuable and efficient friends. +She has not cared that Daniel Boone should recede into poetic distance +before he seemed to her a hero. In his cabin as he smoked, in the hard +winter day as he felled the forest tree, in the rough, unhandsome +experience of every hour, he has been to her the forerunner of +refinement and plenty and ease. If taste and imagination shrink from +the squalor of the frontier, she remembers the greater squalor and the +darker tragedy of the city slum. If the long-haired, shambling, shrill +fanatic upon the platform be a contemptuous jest to my Lady Cavaliere, +this fairer lady remembers John clad in goat-skins and crying in the +wilderness. I wish, she says, that mankind might sit at a sumptuous +table, but I shall not scoff at the wooden spoon that feeds its +hunger. She hangs one picture upon her wall: it is Christ sitting at +meat with publicans and sinners. And so season after season, year +after year, she carries her sympathy, her hope, her steady faith to +all the pioneers. She is not a poet, but the world is to her +enchanted. Under the sharp voice of the reformer she hears the music +of the harmony which he discordantly foretells. With the distorted +eyes of the ill-disciplined, ignorant enthusiast she beholds the +symmetry of the future towards which he looks. In turn, the reformer +and the enthusiast behold in her and vaguely comprehend the outward +charm of beauty and grace and high condition which they blindly +announce. It is as if Daniel Boone, shaggy and savage, suddenly saw +his cabin and his rude clearing glorified: a stately, hospitable +mansion, overlooking a placid landscape of rounded groves and blooming +gardens and distant parks, murmuring with the song of birds and all +domestic sounds. Her service to a good cause is more than eloquence, +more than devotion--it is the perpetual presence of its ideal. + +There were plenty of Lords and Ladies Cavaliere who were tired to +death of that solemn enthusiast and bore, Columbus. But when he saw +the shore of San Salvador he must have recalled that he had long ago +seen it in the patient faith of any unknown friend who had always +hoped for him and believed with him. The Lady Cavaliere who thinks +Daniel Boone in early Kentucky, or Christopher Columbus pacing the +shore and ceaselessly looking westward, the most romantic of figures, +does not know that she sneered at both when she whispered, "I am tired +to death of reformers." + + + + +HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS. + + +A man who is easily discouraged, who is not willing to put the good +seed out of sight and wait for results, who desponds if he cannot +obtain everything at once, and who thinks the human race lost if he is +disappointed, will be very unhappy if he persists in taking a part in +politics. There is no sphere in which self-deception is easier. A man +with a restless personal ambition is very apt to believe his own +purposes to be public ends, and he finds his party to be recreant to +its principles if he fails to get what he wants. A young man comes +from college carefully trained, with the taste for politics which +belongs to the English race, and with the wish and hope to distinguish +himself and to serve his country. He attaches himself to a party, and +works for it in the usual way, waiting for his opportunity and his +distinction. Gradually the gratification of his ambition becomes his +test of the patriotic sincerity and wisdom of his party. He does not +think that it is so. He does not state it to himself in that bald way. +But he feels that he is the kind of man that his party ought to +promote, that he has the capacity and the desire to be of use, and +that if his party has not perceptions sharp enough to know its own +best men, nor the wish to distinguish them by calling them to office, +there is something deplorable in its condition. + +"I am afraid," said a gentleman of this kind to the Easy Chair, "that +my party is falling into bad hands. I see signs of corruption which +seem to me very disheartening." He shook his head forebodingly. This +gentleman did not conceal his opinion. He announced it freely, and the +rumor came to the ears of the real managers of the party. They put +their heads together, and presently the foreboding gentleman was +called to a public position. Again the Easy Chair met him, and he said +that the political prospect was very much more encouraging than he had +ever known it to be. There was a spirit abroad, he thought, which +would certainly lead to great results. Indeed, the clouds were gone, +and the sun shone brightly. + +At another time another gentleman shook his head in the same way. He +held a pleasant position, but he found that promotion was very slow, +and he began to despond and to think the times sadly demoralized, and +his party--at least he feared it--fatally mercenary. It was evidently +indifferent to reform, and seemed to care little for the wishes of the +people or the character of the country. He, too, shook his head with +profound distrust of the future; and the Easy Chair fell into deep +depression, and wondered whether, after all, a republican form of +government might not be a failure. Before it was possible to say so +conclusively, however, the Chair heard that his friend had decided to +seek reform and the welfare of the race "under the banner" of the +opposing party. And again, while considering whether all patriots +ought not to follow so eminent an example, it learned that the +desponding soul who had had the courage to face obloquy and change his +party relations had only done so after prolonged and fruitless efforts +to secure official place under his old party. Had he obtained it that +party would still have seemed to him resolute, patriotic, and +discerning, and he would have continued to serve his country in the +association to which he had become accustomed. + +There is no South American general who overthrows a government and +enthrones himself as dictator upon the ruins who does not announce +with imposing solemnity that the old system was intolerable, and that +the interests of humanity and the country required him to do as he had +done. Not one of them was ever known to declare that he had destroyed +the old government because he wished to be the government himself. The +two friends of the Easy Chair had sincerely sophisticated themselves, +and identified their personal advantage and wishes with the public +interest. If they had told the precise truth they would have said that +they wanted office, and if they could not get it from one party they +would try another. When a man is conscious of a strong desire and of +great ability to serve the public, this kind of sophistication is +easy. That which should make a generous man suspicious under such +circumstances is that he confounds official position with public +service. The latter, indeed, is in a sense a technical phrase; but a +man may equally serve the public unofficially by taking his part in +the necessary and disagreeable details of practical politics. If he +will not do this he must share the responsibility of bad government. + +Yet here, again, he must not be discouraged if his efforts appear to +be abortive and the results ridiculous. The secret of a republic seems +abstractly to be very simple, for it is merely that all good men shall +act together and elect good officers. But good men cannot act together +if they do not think together, and the best method of obtaining +results which all desire is the very problem of politics. All good men +cannot act together, therefore, because good men differ. But even the +good men who agree cannot easily and simply have their way, because +political measures can be secured only by organization, and the +organization, or the machine by which the result is to be attained, +may very readily fall into crafty or corrupt hands, which will use the +sincerity and pure purpose of better men to serve base and mercenary +ends. The first of the two friends of the Easy Chair was used in this +manner. He was sincere and pure, but he was vain, and therefore weak, +and the clever managers hit him in the heel. + +Again, a man may be wholly free of weakness or vanity, and, without +the least personal wish or ambition in public life, may take part in +politics solely from a commanding sense of duty, and yet find himself +and his efforts not only unavailing for his own purposes, but +ludicrously and hopelessly perverted to serve those of others. +Honestus was such a man: in the truest sense a patriot in feeling, yet +he confessed that he had hitherto neglected his political duties, but +declared that henceforth he would lose no opportunity of correcting +his conduct. He saw with joy the notice of an approaching primary +meeting, and when the evening arrived he hastened to the hall with the +pleasing consciousness that he was discharging a great public duty. He +reached the hall, and was heartily welcomed by the observant managers, +whom, had Titbottom's spectacles been at hand, he would have seen to +be foxes--at least. They were very glad indeed to see Honestus and men +like him engaging in politics. They saw in that fact the augury of a +better day. It was a peculiar pleasure to co-operate with him, and +they trusted that this was but the beginning of a good habit upon his +part. Honestus could not help thinking how easy it was to exaggerate, +and to suppose men to be a great deal worse than they are, and +wondered that he had never before taken the trouble--or, rather, +fulfilled the duty--of attending the primary meeting. + +The proceedings began, and he was exceedingly interested. Officers +were appointed, and it was evident from their speeches that nothing +but honesty and economy was to be sought, and only men of the most +spotless character nominated. But it was necessary to have a committee +upon nominations; and to his surprise and gratification Honestus heard +his own name mentioned as one of the committee, and almost blushed as +he was appointed its chairman. The committee was requested to +withdraw, and to report the names of candidates as soon as possible. + +Honestus and his colleagues therefore retired to a dim +passage-way--where, as he subsequently remarked, he should have been +rather alarmed to meet either of them at night and alone--and business +began. Various names were mentioned, of which, unfortunately, Honestus +had never heard one; and at length one of the most positive of the +committee said, emphatically, that, upon the whole, Sly was the very +man for the place. There was a general murmur of assent and +satisfaction. Honestus heard on every side that it was "just the +thing;" that Sly was "an A1 boy," and that he was "always there;" he +was also "square," and "right up to the line;" and by common consent +Sly seemed to be the Heaven-appointed candidate. + +Rather disturbed by his total ignorance of this conspicuous public +character, Honestus turned to his neighbor and said, guardedly, with +the air of a man who was musing upon Sly's qualifications, "Oh, +Sly--Sly?" + +"Yes," said his neighbor, "Sly." + +"Certainly," replied Honestus; "certainly. But--who--is--Sly?" + +His neighbor looked at him for a moment, and repeated the question in +a tone of incredulity--"_Who is Sly?_"--as if he had said, Who is +George Washington? + +"Yes; I don't think that I know him." + +"Don't know Sly?" + +"No." + +"Well, if you did know him, you'd know that he's just the man we want; +bang up; made for it." + +"Oh, is he?" + +"You bet--A1." + +"Well," said the member who had first announced that Sly was the very +man for the place, "I suppose they'll be waiting. I nominate Sly as +the candidate." + +The chairman said yes, but that, unfortunately for himself, he did not +know Mr. Sly. + +"Well, you don't know anything against him, do you?" asked the other. + +"Certainly not." + +"Well, we all know him, and he is the very man. We ought to hurry." + +Honestus put the question, and Sly was unanimously named as the +candidate to be reported to the meeting by the chairman. + +The meeting was already stamping and clapping and calling for the +committee, and the energetic mover of Sly said that it was necessary +to go in right away. The committee made for the hall, and the chairman +followed. He knew nothing of Sly nor of the people who had named him, +and he knew nobody else whom he could propose for the place. Honestus +felt very much as a leaf might feel upon the fall at Niagara, and in +the next moment the chairman of the meeting was asking him if the +committee were ready to report. The chairman of the committee bowed. +The chairman of the meeting said that the report would now be made. +Honestus stated that he was instructed to report the name of Sly. The +meeting roared. There was some thumping by the chairman, and Honestus +heard only the name of Sly and "by acclamation," and a whirlwind of +calls upon "Sly!" "Sly!" "Speech!" "Speech!" The next moment Sly, with +a large diamond pin, was upon the platform thanking and promising, and +the meeting was stormily cheering and adjourning _sine die_. + +Honestus walked quietly home, perceiving that the result of his +practical effort to discharge the primary duties of a citizen was that +Sly, one of the most disreputable and dishonest of public sharks, had +been nominated by a committee of which he was chairman, and that the +whole weight of the name of Honestus was thrown upon the side of +rascality with a diamond pin. And he reflected that in politics, as +elsewhere, it is necessary to begin as early in preparation for action +as the rascals. + +Yet he did not lose his faith, nor suppose that popular government is +a cheat and a snare, because he had been involuntarily made the +instrument of knaves. Honestus understands that good government is one +of the best things in the world, and he knows that good things of that +kind are not cheap. He is willing to pay the price, and the price is +the trouble to ascertain who Sly is, and the time to do his part in +defeating Sly. For Honestus knows that if he does not rule, Sly will. + + + + +THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS, 1871. + + +It was about fifteen years ago that Thalberg, who has just died only +fifty-nine years old, was in this country. Jenny Lind had been here +some years earlier, and Alboni and Grisi a little later, and +Vieuxtemps and Sivori and Ole Bull a dozen years before. Jullien, with +his monster orchestra, had given monstrous concerts in the monstrous +hall of Castle Garden, and many a musician of less fame had come to +try his fortune. But we had had neither of the acknowledged masters of +the piano, the founders of the modern school of playing--Liszt and +Thalberg. Liszt, spoiled and capricious, played very seldom. Chopin, +more a composer than a performer, we in America had never supposed +would cross the sea: so sensitive, so delicate, so shadowy, his life +seemed to exhale, a passionate sigh of music. In the stormy, +blood-soaked, ruined Paris of to-day it is not easy to imagine those +evenings at the Prince Czartoryski's, when Chopin played in the +moonlight the mazurkas and polonaises and waltzes which moonlight or +dreams seem often to have inspired, but through which the proud +movement of the old Polish dance and song triumphantly rings. + +In George Sand's _Letters of a Traveller_ Chopin also appears, but +sadly and hopelessly. What Xavier de Maistre says of the Fornarina and +Raphael is the undertone of all the passages of the book that speak of +Chopin--"She loved her love more than her lover." Then came the burial +at the Madeleine, with his own funeral march beating time to his +grave. The mere pianist who had aroused the most enthusiasm in this +country was Leopold de Meyer, who came more than twenty years ago. His +was a blithe, exhilarating style. There was a grotesque little plaster +cast of him in the shop-windows at the time, representing him +crouching over the instrument, with enormous hands spread upon the +keyboard, and his fat knees crowding in to cover all the rest of the +space. It was slam-bang playing, but so skilful, and with such a +tickling melody, that it was irresistibly popular. His "Marche +Marocaine," a brilliant _tour de force_, was always sure to captivate +the audience; and his success was indisputable. + +De Meyer's concerts were sometimes given in the old Tabernacle in +Broadway, near Leonard Street, the circular church which for so many +years was the chief public hall in the city. The platform was almost +in the centre, and the aisles radiated from it. The galleries went +quite around the building, and, except for the huge columns which +supported a dome, it was convenient both for hearing and seeing. Here +were some of the great antislavery meetings in the hottest days of the +agitation. The anniversaries were held here, and it was the scene of +all popular lectures and of concerts. A few blocks above, upon +Broadway, near Canal Street, was the old Apollo Hall, where the first +Philharmonic concerts took place. In those early days of the German +music--days which followed the City Hotel epoch and the Garcia +opera--people were so unaccustomed to the proprieties of the +concert-room that the Easy Chair has even known some persons to +whisper and giggle during the performance of the finest symphonies of +Beethoven and Mozart, and so excessively rude as to rustle out of the +hall before the last piece was ended. + +Upon one such occasion it said to its neighbor, as they were coming +out: + +"It is a pity such ill-mannered people should thrust themselves among +ladies and gentlemen." + +"Ill-mannered!" quoth its neighbor; "I assure you they are carriage +company from the neighborhood of Union Square." + +In these days of universal respectful attention at the Philharmonic +concerts it is but a curious reminiscence of long-passed boorishness, +this of persons who whispered and giggled, and rustled out before the +end, at concerts, to the disturbance of all mannerly people. + +As the city grew the concerts came up-town, and were for some time +given at Niblo's concert-room. But, wherever they were, one person was +for many years constantly familiar, sometimes as general director, +sometimes as pianist to accompany singing, always modest, courteous, +and efficient, a man widely and most kindly remembered--Henry C. Timm. +Like most of our musical benefactors, he was a German, and gave +lessons in piano-playing. He was not one of the great virtuosos, but +his touch was delicate and nimble, and he had a sincere love of his +art. Often and often, at a house always pleasant from that +reminiscence, with the consent of parent and pupil, and to his own +great delight, the hour designed for the scholar's scales and +exercises was given to the master's playing. He was fond of Weber's +"Invitation to the Waltz," and he played it with force and precision +and the utmost delicacy. Mr. Timm had a pale, smooth, sharp face, a +rather prim manner, and a quick, modest gait. He was most +simple-hearted, and loved a joke; and his fun was all the more +effective from his very sober face and his lisp. It was his wife who +was long the most efficient actress at Mitchell's old Olympic in the +palmy days of burlesque. + +It was at Niblo's that Thalberg played. Many of the virtuosos had +been--like De Meyer--so extravagant in their action, and so evidently +what we now call "sensational," that there was great curiosity to see +the master whose name had been familiar since 1830, and famous since +1835, when he first played in Paris. The comparative estimate of the +two men, Liszt and Thalberg, was that the former was a player of +eccentric genius, the latter of consummate talent: a judgment which is +very apt to spring from a superficial theory that eccentricity is the +signet of genius. The long hair, the wild aspect of Paganini, did much +to confirm this feeling. + +At the concerts of Thalberg there were some preliminary performances, +and then a gentleman with side whiskers and no mustache, +unostentatiously dressed, entered upon the platform. His manner was +grave and tranquil, and he bowed respectfully as he seated himself at +the instrument. Immediately, without a flourish or grimace, steadily +and calmly watching the audience, he touched the piano, and it began +to sing. There was no pounding, no muscular contortion. Nothing but +his hands seemed to be engaged, and apparently without effort they +exhausted the whole force of the instrument. It was in every respect +except its great effectiveness the reverse of De Meyer's playing. The +effect, indeed, was astonishing. When the player arose, as quietly and +gravely as he had seated himself, there was a tumult of applause, to +which he bowed and tranquilly withdrew. + +The characteristic of his style is well known. It was a series of +harmonious combinations of all the resources of the key-board, through +which the melody was clearly articulated. It was by study and by long +practice only that he carried this method to its perfection. Thus in +one of his great fantasias, that from Mozart's "Don Giovanni," the +sentiment of the whole opera was reproduced. Perhaps you do not admire +brilliant variations upon a theme selected from the opera, but in this +performance you are affected by the passionate movement of the entire +work. It is a wonderful epitome. The same respect which he showed for +his audience and for himself, and which made him always a +self-possessed gentleman, he also had for his instrument. De Meyer +seemed to suppose that the full range and power of the piano could not +be developed except by grotesque methods. Other players treat it as if +impatient of its limitations, and resolved to make an orchestra of a +feeble key-board. But Thalberg instinctively apprehended the character +of the instrument, and respected its limitations as well as its +powers, and knew that its utmost resource was attainable by skilled +motion rather than by brute force. Therefore he played with his hands, +and not with his knees and his body. But the force of his fingers was +magical, and the volume of sound that followed was as great as any +player evoked. + +Thalberg was a player only, and not, in the sense of Chopin, a +composer. What are called his compositions are arrangements and +adaptations of themes from operas treated to develop them with all the +richness of the instrument. The originality is in the method of +instrumentation, and in this he was original, and is really the +founder of the present piano school. As a player his characteristic +was the cantabile--the singing quality; and this he had beyond all +players. The flowing sweetness of his style is indescribable. There +were many, indeed, who complained of a want of fire, and denied him +that passion without which no work of art is perfect. But it was +impossible to hear him play his fantasia from "Don Giovanni," for +instance, without perceiving all the passion of the original. Mozart +was not lost under his hands. And the impression of coldness was +largely due, doubtless, to the tranquillity and propriety of his +appearance and manner. + +The most generally popular of his successors at the piano in this +country was undoubtedly Gottschalk, who was here quite as early as +Thalberg, whose fame eclipsed all others. Upon his arrival Gottschalk +played privately at a small party. He was a foreign-looking youth, +with a peculiarly dull eye, and taciturn, but he was familiar with +every kind of music. When he was asked he played Chopin, and with +great skill. But his chief successes were his West Indian melodies, +which were full of picturesque suggestion. His execution was rapid, +brilliant, and forcible, but a great deal of his playing was too +evidently _tours de force_. It was always interesting to watch his +audience, when, upon being recalled, he began one of the West Indian +strains. There was a minor monotonous theme in them which fascinated +the listeners. They heard the beat of the tambourine, and saw the +movement of the dance, and with them all the characteristic scenery +and association of the tropics filled their imaginations. The languid +grace, the rich indolence, the gay profusion of the lands where the +banana grows, they felt and saw. + +How many admirable players and singers have come among us! And when, +as now, one drops through the bridge of Mirza, a host of Easy Chairs +pause for a moment to remember how many there were, and to delight in +thinking how many more there will be. Once it was the sailor who +crossed the sea to find El Dorado and Cathay, now it is the artist who +follows in the fascinating quest. But sailor and artist seeking gold +in far countries, like the pollen-powdered bee sucking honey in the +flowers, bring as rare a treasure as they find. + + + + +URBS AND RUS. + + +Mr. Tibs, who has an observing eye for many aspects of life, lately +informed the Easy Chair of his conclusion that there are some serious +objections to a suburban residence. This is a subject in which so many +intelligent and judicious readers of these pages are interested, that +the Easy Chair could not be indifferent to Mr. Tibs's conclusions. The +population which "sleeps out of town," which goes and comes daily to +and from the neighborhood of every great city in every part of the +country, is immense and increasing, and it has always rather an air of +lofty sympathy and pity for those who still cling to the "sweet +seclusion of streets." This is the more observable and amusing because +the denizens of town upon their part assume that their fellow-creatures +who resort to the country as a residence are mainly impelled by +motives of economy. For who would live out of town if he could live +comfortably in it? + +"You must find it very annoying to be tied to exact hours of trains +and boats," says Urbs to Rus, "and it is not the pleasantest thing in +the world to be obliged to pick your way through the river streets to +the ferry, or wait at stations. However, you probably calculated the +waste of time and the trouble before you decided to live in Frogtown." + +"Every choice has its inconveniences, undoubtedly," responds Rus, "but +I concluded that I preferred fresh air for my children to the +atmosphere of sewers and gas factories, and I have a prejudice for +breakfasting by sunlight rather than by gas. Then my wife enjoys the +singing of birds in the morning more than the cry of the milkman, and +the silence at night secures a sweeter sleep than the rattle of the +horse-cars. It is true that we have no brick block opposite, and no +windows of houses behind commanding our own. But to set off such +deprivations there are pleasant hills and wooded slopes and gardens. +They are not sidewalks, to be sure, but they satisfy us." + +"Yes, yes; I see," says Urbs. "We are more to be pitied than I +thought. If we must go out in the evening, we don't have the advantage +of stumbling over hummocks and sinking in the mud or dust in the dark; +we can only go dry-shod upon clean flagging abundantly lighted. Then +we have nothing but Thomas's orchestra and the opera and the bright +little theatre to console us for the loss of the frog and tree-toad +concert and the tent-circus. Instead of plodding everywhere upon our +own feet, which is so pleasant after running round upon them all day +in town, we have nothing but cars and stages at hand to carry us to +our own doors. I see clearly there are great disadvantages in city +life. If a friend and his wife drop in suddenly in the evening or to +dine, it is monstrously inconvenient to have an oyster-shop round the +corner whence to improvise a supper or a dinner. It would be so much +better to have nothing but the village grocery a mile or two away. The +advantages are conspicuous. I wonder the entire population of the city +doesn't go out to live in Frogtown." + +Rus always feels in secret that he is at a disadvantage so long as he +must go to town every day to attend to his business. He reasons +plausibly that the train or the boat is no more than the horse-car, +and he proves conclusively that he can be at his office within half an +hour of his friend who lives in Fiftieth Street. But his friend +irritatingly replies that on pleasant mornings he prefers not to take +the car. He walks down in the bright air and through the busy street. +With twinkling and triumphant eyes he invites Rus to do the same. + +Rus gayly replies that the sun is quite as bright upon green fields as +upon brick blocks or stone flagging, and the shifting panorama from +the car window is a lovely picture. Urbs assents, and adds that the +dust and cinders also give great zest to the enjoyment, and that +dragging through tunnels is full of delight and beauty. + +But the real sorrow that Rus feels has not yet been touched. It is the +grief which Mr. Tibs has observed and confided to the Easy Chair. It +haunts his happy hours with sad foreboding. He cannot look from his +window but he sees it. He cannot celebrate the charms of country and +suburban life but it seems to mock him. It turns his joy to ashes. He +looks upon the wife of his bosom with anguish as he thinks of it. He +gazes ruefully into his children's eyes; pretty innocents, they know +naught of the impending blow. It is a Shadow, as Thackeray would have +solemnly said, with Bulwerian impressiveness, which Pursues Him at Mid +Day. It Awakens Him at Mid Night, and Says to Him, Sleep No More! What +is it, do you ask? inquires Mr. Tibs, in his most startling manner. +Brethren, 'tis the fell hand of improvement. That is it. It is that +which harrows the suburban soul and destroys suburban peace. No man +who lives in the neighborhood of the city, or in any little +settlement, community, hamlet, thorp, village, or town which is +occupied with people doing business in the city, but is exposed in his +rural retirement, in his suburban home, to the ravages of improvement. + +There are suburban neighborhoods of New York which are said to be +subject to malaria, to fever and ague. It is false, as every denizen +of Bay Ridge and Flushing knows. There are others which are alleged to +be a prey to mosquitoes and chills. 'Tis a base fabrication, as every +Staten Islander and dweller by the Newark marshes is ready to swear. +It is notorious, and is established upon the very best authority, +namely, that of the inhabitants of the districts themselves, that no +shores are so salubrious as those of the bay of New York. Strict +justice, indeed, demands--and to nothing so much as strict justice and +truthfulness in these matters are the peaceful people of those shores +devoted--strict justice and truth demand that it should not be denied +that single, exceptional, but upon the whole sufficiently well +attested cases of malarial trouble have been known. But they were +always brought from abroad, probably from that losel Yankee-land from +which most of the woe of New York has proceeded. While, therefore, it +is a wanton calumny--and the corroboration of all suburban +property-holders is invited to the statement--to assert that any +portion of the neighborhood of New York, or of any other great city, +let it be Philadelphia, Chicago, or St. Louis, Boston, Baltimore, or +Savannah, is subject to malaria, or is otherwise than the true +sanitarium of the continent, yet it must be owned with sorrow that +every suburban region is infested with the spirit of improvement. + +Edwin and Angelina were married yesterday, and will devote their +honey-moon to the quest of a place in which to build their permanent +nest. They find it at last in the most delightful of suburban +neighborhoods. They build the pretty cottage. They spread out smooth +green lawns, and plant trees and shrubs, and hide themselves in +flowers. They have made a sweet sylvan seclusion, in which they sit +and smile at the eloquence of Urbs, who pities their exile and depicts +the charm of streets. Streets are charming, respond Edwin and Angelina +in connubial chorus, but we will have none of them. Fond, foolish +pair! For even at that moment the desolating spirit of improvement is +staking out a street across their most emerald lawn and through their +most sacred grove; their trees and flowers and turf are doomed, and +their seclusion is to be turned into a dusty highway. + +Suburban improvement is the ruthless devastator of home. There is no +remedy. To oppose the ruin of the place which you have carefully made, +which has grown around you in increasing beauty with the growth and +development of your family, which is associated with all that is +happiest in your life, and which is in some sort the flowering and +expression of yourself, is to be derided as withstanding the public +benefit and the advantage of those less fortunate than yourself. The +instinct of protecting the home that you have made is denounced as +sentimental selfishness, and the law steps forward, cuts down your +trees, plows up your lawn, lays a gutter under your window, destroys +your home, and hands you some dollars for what it calls compensation, +or demands them for what it styles improvement. + +I am of opinion, therefore, says Mr. Tibs, and the Easy Chair commends +the reflection to those intending matrimony and thinking of a country +home, that there are some serious objections to a suburban residence. + + + + +RIP VAN WINKLE. + + +Going the other evening to see "Rip Van Winkle," the old question of +its moral naturally came up, and Portia warmly asserted that it was +shameful to bring young children to see a play in which the exquisite +skill of Jefferson threw a glamour upon the sorriest vice. + +"See," she said, "the earnest, tearful interest with which these boys +and girls near us hang upon the story. The charm to them of the scene +and of the acting is indescribable. Do you suppose they can escape the +effect? All their sympathy is kindled for the good-natured and +good-for-nothing reprobate, and when Gretchen turns him out into the +night and the storm, they cannot help feeling that it is she, not he, +who has ruined the home, and that the drunken vagabond, who has just +made his endearments the cover of deception, is really the victim of a +virago. And when he returns, old and decrepit, and, we might hope, +purged of that fatal appetite which has worked all the woe, it is his +old victim, the woman whose youth his evil habits ruined, and who, in +consequence of those habits was driven into the power of the +tormentor, Derrick von Beekman, who hands him 'the cup that shall be +death in tasting,' as if it were she, and not he, who had been +properly chastened and converted from the fatal error of supposing +that drunkenness is not a good thing. + +"No, no," said Portia, indignantly and eloquently, raising her voice +to that degree that the Easy Chair feared to hear the appalling "'sh! +'sh!" of the disturbed neighbors; "it is a grossly immoral spectacle, +and the subtler and more fascinating the genius of Mr. Jefferson in +the representation, the more deadly is the effect." + +The drop had just fallen, and the scene on the mountains was about to +open. The house had been darkened, and as the clear, quiet, unforced +tone of Rip, yielding, not remonstrating, to the doom that we all knew +and he did not, fell upon the hushed audience, the eyes of men and +women were full of tears; while the orchestra murmured, _mezzo voce_, +during the storm within and without the house, the tenderly pathetic +melody of the "Lorelei:" + + "I know not what it presages, + This heart with sadness fraught; + 'Tis a tale of the olden ages + That will not from my thought." + +It was not easy to find in the emotion of that moment a response to +Portia's accusation of gross immorality. There was but a poetic figure +in the mind--the sweet-natured, weak-willed, simple-hearted vagabond +of the village and the mountain--touching the heart with pity, and, in +the drunken scene, with sorrow. This figure excludes all the rest. Its +symmetry and charm are the triumph of the play as acted. Now the +immorality can not lie in the kindly feeling for the tippling +vagabond, for that is natural and universal. Indeed, the same kind of +weakness that leads to a habit of tippling belongs often to the most +charming and attractive natures, and the representation of the fact +upon the stage is not in itself immoral. The immorality must be found, +if anywhere, as Portia insisted, in the charm with which vice is +invested. + +But is it so invested in this play? It used to be urged against +Bulwer's early novels that they made scoundrels fascinating, and that +boys after reading them would prefer rascals to honest men. If that +had been the fact, the novels would have been justly open to that +censure. But, tried by this standard, Rip Van Winkle, as Mr. Jefferson +plays it, is far from an immoral play. The picture as he paints it is +moral in the same sense that nature is moral. No man, shiftless, idle, +and drunken, afraid to go home, ashamed before his children, without +self-respect or the regard of others, however gentle and sweet, and +however much a favorite with the boys and girls and animals he may be, +is a man whose courses those boys will wish to imitate or who will +make vice more tasteful to them. The pathos of the second part of the +play, in which the change of age mingled with mystery is marvellously +portrayed, is largely due to the consciousness that this melancholy +end is all due to that woful beginning. The expulsion of Derrick and +his nephew is nothing, the happiness of Meenie and her lover is +nothing, the release of Gretchen is nothing, there is only a wasted +old man, without companions, the long prime of whose life has been +lost in unconsciousness, and who, suddenly awaking, looks at us +pitifully from the edge of the grave. + +By the most prosaic standards this should not seem to adorn vice with +attraction. It is true that the spectator is more interested in Rip +than in his wife, and that she is made a virago. But it is not his +drunkenness that charms, and her virtue is at least severe. Indeed, if +this performance is to be tried by this standard, the play must be +regarded as a temperance mission. For temperance is to be inculcated +upon the youthful spectators who sit near us not so much by stories +and pictures of the furious brute who drives wife and children from a +home made desolate by him, and who fly from him as from a demon, as by +this simple, faithful showing of the kind-hearted loiterer who makes +wretched a wife who yet loves him, and who denounces himself to the +child that he loves. This is the fair view of it as a picture of +ordinary human life. + +But, as we look, the low wail of the sad music is in our ears, the +scene changes to a weird world of faery, the story merges in a dream, +and Rip Van Winkle smiles at us from a realm beyond the diocese of +conscience. If conscience, indeed, will obtrude, conscience shall be +satisfied. It is a sermon if you will, but if you will, also, it is a +poem. + + + + +A CHINESE CRITIC. + + +The Easy Chair was agreeably surprised the other day by a call from a +yellowish-visaged gentleman in a queue, who announced himself as of +the family of Lien Chi Altangi, a name which the reader will recall as +that of the Chinese philosopher and citizen of the world whose letters +of observation in England were edited by Dr. Goldsmith. After the +natural courtesies of such a meeting, and the Easy Chair's compliments +upon the shrewdness and charm of his distinguished ancestor's +observations, the Chinese gentleman fell into easy conversation, and +was congratulated upon his singular familiarity with our language. He +remarked that it was always an advantage to a traveller to know the +language of the country, and he had no doubt that so travelling a +people as the American were of the same opinion. "And as you travel +over the world more generally than any other people," he said, "I +presume that you are generally familiar with many languages." The Easy +Chair bowed, and cleared its throat, and smiled, and said, "Oh +yes--probably--undoubtedly." + +"Yours is a very great country," the visitor politely returned, "and +this city is indeed magnificent. It promises one day to rival Pekin, +at least in extent and population. The pleasure of seeing your great +men--the great men of so great a city, I mean--must be very unusual, +and I should be infinitely your debtor if you would accompany me to +your temple of civic greatness--your City Hall, as I understand you +call it. Your popular institutions, as we are told in China, are +intended to secure worthy governors of the people by the votes of the +people themselves. It is exceedingly interesting, and I am very +anxious to study the working of your institutions in your chief city." + +The Easy Chair bowed and cleared its throat again, and answered that +the study of the city was certainly very interesting, but without +proffering to escort the travelling philosopher to the City Hall, it +contented itself with remarking that ours is a very great country, and +that its institutions are unequalled in the world. + +"I have met no American who is not of that opinion," courteously +returned the Chinese gentleman, "and I was pleased to see upon a visit +to your Washington and Fulton markets a noble illustration of the +generous and becoming manner in which such important parts of your +municipal institutions are managed." + +The Easy Chair answered that it was not that kind of institution which +it had intended by its remark. + +"Possibly you allude to another great institution which I have +visited," returned the traveller, with exquisite courtesy. "You justly +pride yourself upon your advances in sanitary science, and I am a +devout pilgrim seeking enlightenment. Judge, then, with what pleasure +I saw your chief temple of the customs. What convenience and economy +of arrangement! How singularly fitted for its purpose! You are indeed +a great people. I passed into the main circular hall, and what purity +of atmosphere, what admirable ventilation, what refreshing coolness +and sweetness; it is, indeed, a sanitarium; nor can I wonder that you +are proud of your progress and achievements in this science. But when +I learned that the officers engaged in the public service in this +temple, in the business of various accounts, and in determining the +value of the products of the whole world, were appointed to the duty +because of their zeal in providing candidates for offices and +procuring votes for them, I was lost in admiration of institutions +under which zealous shouting and running are evidence of skill to +embroider muslin and to calculate interest. Truly you are a great +people, and your institutions overflow with wisdom." + +The Easy Chair bowed and smiled, but the precise terms of an +appropriate reply did not suggest themselves, until, remembering what +was due to its native land, it began: "There can, however, illustrious +son of Lien Chi Altangi, be no doubt that we are a very great and +superior people, and that we have a very just pity and contempt for +all the unhappy victims of the effete despotisms and hoary empires of +the older world--not that we believe the other continents to be +actually older, for our own favored continent doubtless emerged first +from chaos, but it is an expression which, with the generosity of our +institutions, we are willing to tolerate." + +"I cannot deny your greatness," politely said the yellowish-visaged +gentleman, "and far be it from me to question your superiority. It was +but yesterday evening that I attended a social assembly which was +described to me as a full-undress party, and as I entered and beheld +many of the other sex, I was struck by the accuracy of the +description. As I promenaded through the brilliant throng with one of +the loveliest of your young persons of that sex, she said to me, with +a bewitching smile, 'Dear Mr. Altangi, is it true that Chinese women +squeeze their feet for beauty? How very funny!' + +"She panted as she spoke, and I saw that her body was evidently +incased in some kind of rigid and unyielding garment, and that her +waist was surely not the waist of nature. I gazed as intently as +decorum would permit--for I am but a student of cities and of men--and +I was sure that my lovely companion's body was more cruelly compressed +than the feet of my adorable countrywomen, and her panting breath was +but evidence of the justice of my observation. I asked her with +sympathy if I could not call some companion to relieve her, or, if the +case were urgent, whether I could not myself offer succor. But she +gazed at me as if I spoke a strange language, and smilingly asked my +meaning. + +"'Dear miss,' I said, 'are you not in great suffering?' 'Not at all,' +she replied, and I paid homage to her heroism. 'I know not, dear miss, +whether to admire more the greatness of your heroism or the generosity +of your sympathy. While you are in torment yourself, your tender +interest goes forth to my countrywomen in what you believe to be +torture. Be comforted, dear miss; the anguish of a squeezed foot is +not comparable to that of a waist so cruelly confined as yours, and +the consequences, also, are not to be compared.' If human bodies in +your great and happy country are made like ours in China, certainly, +Mr. Easy Chair, I must acknowledge that in heroic endurance of the +cruelty of fashion your country is indeed pre-eminent." + +There seemed to be such a singular misapprehension upon the part of +the courteous visitor that the Easy Chair was beginning again to +explain--"Yes, but the indisputable superiority of our glorious +country"--when the son of Altangi interrupted, with suavity: +"Certainly. I was about to add that while my fair companion insisted +that I should confess the pinching of the feet to be a heinous folly, +if not, as she was plainly disposed to believe, a crime, my eye was +arrested by another lightly and lowly draped figure of the same sex +advancing towards us with an uncertain, hobbling step so like the gait +of the lovely Chinese maidens of almond eyes that again I watched +intently, and I saw that not only was this sylph drawn out of all +natural form at the waist, but that she was attempting to walk in +little shoes supported upon high pivots called heels under the centre +of the feet. It was an ingenious combination of torture and +helplessness, to which no social circle in my native land offers a +parallel. It is a wonderful achievement, due, I have no doubt, Mr. +Easy Chair, to the manifest superiority of your great country, and +plainly a striking illustration of it. Yet it is interesting and +touching that the maidens of your politer circles, gasping in pinched +waists, and balancing and tottering on pivots under their shoes, +should inquire with so amused an air about the squeezed feet of +Chinese ladies. I pay you my compliments, Mr. Easy Chair, upon your +extraordinary country." The urbanity of the visitor was perfect. The +Easy Chair looked at his eyes to see if they twinkled, but they had +only a bland regard; and as it was beginning again--"Nevertheless, +sir, you will admit that the superiority of our institutions"--there +seemed to be so positive an approach to twinkling in the Chinese eyes +that the Easy Chair paused, smiled, and then said: "Worthy son of Lien +Chi Altangi, thy words enlighten the mind, even as those of thy +ancestor illuminated the minds of our fathers over the sea. By their +light I read the meaning of the saying that in my youth I heard in the +valleys of the Tyrol, 'Beyond the mountains there are men also.'" + + + + +HOLIDAY SAUNTERING. + + +The richness and profusion and variety of the Christmas shops in a +great city, the sack of the treasures of the whole earth, which +furnish such splendid spoil, recall a remark of Buckle. He says that +the history of the world shows enormous progress in all kinds of +knowledge, in institutions, in commerce and manufactures, and in every +pursuit of human activity, but not in knowledge of moral principle. +The most ancient wisdom in morals is also the most modern. Time and +the progress of civilization have added nothing to the demands of the +conscience or to moral perception. The golden rule is an axiom of the +most ancient wisdom. + +These are bewildering speculations as we stroll along Fourteenth +Street and loiter in Twenty-third Street, which, at the holiday +season, have especially the aspect of a fair or a fascinating bazaar. +The whole world is tributary to Santa Claus. + + "Nothing we see but means our good, + As our delight or as our treasure; + The whole is either our cupboard of food + Or cabinet of pleasure." + +Invention and science have put a girdle about the globe fitly to +decorate Christmas. Diedrich Knickerbocker, in his cocked hat and +flowered coat, had heard of Japan, perhaps, as a romance of Prester +John. But it would have been a wilder romance for him to imagine his +grandchildren dealing at the feast of St. Nicholas with Japanese +merchants in Japanese shops upon the soil of his own Manhattan and on +the very road to Tappan Zee. Hendrik Hudson might have been reasonably +expected to run down from the Catskills with a picked crew to vend +Hollands for the great feast. But Cipango--! + +Yes; we have subdued distance, we are plucking out even the heart of +Africa. As the streets of Bokhara when the fairs were held were piled +with the stuffs of many a province and thronged by merchants of every +hue, so the streets of New York at Christmas show that we have taken +the whole earth to drop into our Christmas stocking. The festival +might be fitly celebrated by coming to the city merely to walk the +streets and + + "view the manners of the town, + Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings." + +Happily the eye can appropriate all the treasures that it would be +theft for the hand to touch. + +Corydon, sauntering with Amaryllis, and staring with her at the +wonderful windows, may be a prince by proxy. "Those pearls," he +whispers, "the diver plunged into Oman's dark waters to find for you. +They are so far on their way, adored Amaryllis. They have reached your +eyes, if not yet your ears. Let me but be rich--and I expect at least +five dollars for my first fee--let the world but discover that in me +the Law, whose seat is the bosom of God, has a new Mansfield, another +Marshall, and yonder pearls shall circle the virgin neck for which +they were predestined. Or do you prefer the diamonds behind the next +pane? Or shall Santa Claus sweetly capture both for you, one for state +dress and splendor, one for days less rigorous, not of purple velvets +and flowered brocades, but summer draperies of soft lace?" + +So the Marchioness and the gay Swiveller, with their happy gift of +transforming a shred of lemon-peel and copious libations of pure water +into nectar, might have walked the Christmas streets of New York as +those of Ormus and of Ind. Lafayette, with the gold snuff-box in which +the freedom of the city was presented to him, could not have been +freer of it. The happy loiterers could see all the beautiful things, +and what could they do more if they should buy them all? Like the kind +people at Newport in the summer, who spare no vast expense to build +noble houses and lay out exquisite grounds and drive in sumptuous +carriages and wear clothes so fine and take pains so costly and +elaborate to please the idle loiterer of a day, who gazes from the +street-car or the omnibus or the sidewalk, so the good holiday +merchants present the enchanting spectacle of their treasures freely +to every penniless saunterer, but for the same enjoyment they demand +of the rich an enormous price. The poor rich must bear also all the +responsibility of possession and care, and cannot be secured against +theft or loss. + +The splendid streets beguile us from our question. In the brilliant +bazaars we are recalling the New York of silence and solitary woods +and roving Indians--the New York that the Dutch settlers bought from +the Indians for twenty-four dollars, and which is now the city that we +behold, the metropolis of the State of which Mr. Draper, its +Superintendent of Public Instruction, asks, "Who shall say that these +six millions of people are not better housed, better fed, better +clothed, more generally educated, more active in affairs, better +equipped for self-government than any other entire people numbering +six millions, unless it be other citizens of our own country, +surrounded by the same circumstances and conditions?" Not the Easy +Chair, certainly. On the contrary, it says Amen. + +But is Buckle right? Are the six millions as much better morally than +the first six millions of their white ancestors upon the continent, as +they are better clothed, better educated, and better housed? Are they +only materially better? Have they better poets, better artists, than +the Greeks, than Dante, than Shakespeare, than Raphael and Michael +Angelo? Have they wiser men than Plato, Aristotle, Bacon? Have they +higher standards of conduct than those of Confucius and the Hindoos? A +hundred years ago the pilgrim was sometimes a week travelling to +Albany with great discomfort. To-day we travel thither in three hours +with incredible ease and luxury. Do we find more public virtue when we +get there? Comfort, knowledge, opportunity, resources, are multiplied +a thousandfold. Schools, libraries, museums, societies, appliances, +have sprung in a night, like Jack's bean-stalk, to a towering height. +Have they brought us nearer heaven? Are we more truthful, more +upright, manlier men? In a world where mechanical invention and +victories over time and space were of no importance, but where moral +qualities alone availed, should we men of the end of the nineteenth +century stand any better chance than those of the beginning of the +ninth? + +That is the queer question which Santa Claus insists upon dropping +into the stockings that hang by this Christmas hearth. He calls it a +Christmas nut to crack. The old fellow chuckles as he thinks of it +while he rides through the frosty starlight. "My children," he laughs, +"what is the difference between six dozen dozen and half a dozen +dozen?" While he asks and chuckles, the old fellow is himself an +answer. He did not invent gifts. But he symbolizes universal giving. +The moral law may be as old as man, but the demand and disposition for +the general application of that law to actual life increase with every +century. The moral law was the same when Howard revealed the horrors +of prisons that it is now when modern philanthropy has purged and +purified them. "The sense of duty," said Webster, in his greatest +criminal argument, "pursues us ever." But it pursues us more +effectively with the return of every Christmas. + +If there be no larger knowledge of the moral law there is a more +universal sense of moral obligation. Those pearls of Oman which +Corydon designs for Amaryllis would not have adorned so noble a woman +had they circled the neck of the Paphian Venus or Helen of Troy. + + + + +WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD. 1881. + + +The great Commencement event of the Summer was Wendell Phillips's +oration at the centennial anniversary of the venerable Phi Beta Kappa +at Cambridge. It was also the semi-centenary of the orator's +graduation at Harvard, and there was great anticipation, not only +because Mr. Phillips is now in many ways the first orator of his time, +but because his _alma mater_ has not sympathized with his career. On +the day before, which was Commencement-day, there was general wonder +among the Harvard men of all years whether the orator would regard the +amenities of the occasion, and pour out his music and his wit upon +some purely literary theme, or seize his venerable mother by the hair, +and gracefully twist it out with a smile. + +"I hope," uneasily said a distinguished alumnus of Harvard to the Easy +Chair, "I hope he will not forget that he is a gentleman." + +"He has never yet forgotten it," replied the Easy Chair. + +The morning was beautiful--a sweet, fresh, brilliant June morning--and +there was a great assembly in the grounds of the university. The usual +Phi Beta Kappa attendance is not large. The celebration occurs on the +last day of prolonged college festivities, and the number of members +of the society is limited; nor, in fact, has it a real existence +except on the day of its oration and poem and dinner. This year, +however, the centenary of Harvard, from which all the other chapters, +except the parent chapter at William and Mary, have proceeded, had +drawn delegations from seventeen other colleges. The pink and blue +ribbon, which has replaced the square gold watch-key of other days, +fluttered at every button-hole, and with pealing music leading the +way, the long, long procession--a Phi Beta Kappa procession such as +perhaps Harvard never saw before--wound under the imposing buildings +towards the beautiful college hall, the Sanders Theatre. + +A great college day is always a feast of memory. As the music swelled +and the procession moved, the air was full of visions of forms long +vanished, of voices forever silent. To the Phi Beta Kappa memory in +Cambridge, however, three of the society's famous days returned. +First, that 26th of August, 1824, when Edward Everett delivered the +oration, which closed with the apostrophe to Lafayette, sitting upon +the platform in the old meetinghouse, which stood, we believe, where +Gore Hall now stands. It is the college tradition that the audience +rose in enthusiasm with the last words of the orator: "Welcome, thrice +welcome, to our shores, and whithersoever throughout the limits of the +continent your course shall take you, the ear that hears you shall +bless you, the eye that sees you shall bear witness to you, and every +tongue exclaim with heart-felt joy, Welcome, welcome, Lafayette!" and +that Lafayette himself, not clearly apprehending the drift of the +peroration, and swept on by sympathy, eagerly applauded with the +excited throng. Second, that 31st of August, 1837, when Ralph Waldo +Emerson read the remarkable discourse to whose calm, wise, and +thrilling words the hearts of men who were young then still vibrate, +and to which their lives have responded; and third, the day in 1836 +when Oliver Wendell Holmes read his poem, "A Metrical Essay," which is +the traditional Phi Beta Kappa poem, as Everett's and Emerson's are +the traditional orations. Richard H. Dana, Jr., calls Everett's +discourse the first of a kind of which since then there have been +brilliant illustrations, the rhetorical, literary, historical, and +political essay blended in one, and made captivating by every charm of +oratory. + +But the procession has reached the theatre, in which already there are +ladies seated, and in a few moments the building is filled with an +audience to which any orator would be proud to speak. There is music +as the audience rustles and murmurs into its place with eager +expectation. Then there is a prayer. Then Mr. Choate, the president of +the day, with his customary felicity and sparkling banter, speaks of +the origin of the ancient and mysterious brotherhood. "And now," he +says, in ending, "I introduce to you him who, whenever and wherever he +speaks, is the orator of the day." Mr. Phillips rises, and buttons his +frock-coat across his white waistcoat as he moves to the front of the +platform. Seen from the theatre, his hair is gray, and his face looks +older, but there is the same patrician air; and with the familiar +tranquillity and colloquial ease he begins to speak. + +He spoke perhaps for two hours, perhaps for half an hour. But there +was no sense of the lapse of time. His voice was somewhat less strong, +but it had all the old force and the old music. He was in constant +action, but never vehement, never declamatory in tone, walking often +to and fro, every gesture expressive, art perfectly concealing art. It +was all melody and grace and magic, all wit and paradox and power. The +apt quotation, the fine metaphor, the careful accumulation of +intensive epithet to point an audacious and startling assertion, the +pathos, the humor. But why try to describe beauty? It was consummate +art, and as noble a display of high oratory as any hearer or spectator +had known. + +It is usually thought that there must be a great occasion for great +oratory. Burke and Chatham upon the floor of Parliament plead for +America against coercion; Adams and Otis and Patrick Henry in vast +popular assemblies fire the colonial heart to resist aggression; +Webster lays the corner-stone on Bunker Hill, or in the Senate unmasks +secession in the guise of political abstraction; Everett must have the +living Lafayette by his side. But here is an orator without an +antagonist, with no measure to urge or oppose, whose simple theme upon +a literary occasion is the public duty of the scholar. Yet he touches +and stirs and inspires every listener; and as he quietly ends his +discourse with a stanza of Lowell's that he has quoted a hundred times +before, every hearer feels that it is a historic day, and that what he +has seen and heard will be one of the traditions of Harvard and of Phi +Beta Kappa. + +It does not follow, because the audience was charmed, and overflowed +with expressions of delight, that it therefore agreed. When an orator +calls the French Revolution "the greatest, the most un-mixed, the most +unstained and wholly perfect blessing Europe has had in modern times, +unless, perhaps, we may possibly except the Reformation," there will +be those who differ--who will grant the beneficent results of +revolutions, as of wild storms of nature, but who will hesitate to +call a movement of which the September days, the noyades, and the +bloody fury of a brutal mob were incidents, the most unmixed and the +most unstained of blessings. No American would lament the agitation +for emancipation, to which the life of the orator has been devoted. It +was a great blessing to the country and to humanity; but from the +blood of Lovejoy to that of the last victim of the war on either side, +it was not an unstained and unmixed blessing. There is, indeed, a +sense in which "to gar kings know" that they have a joint in their +necks may in itself be called an unstained political gain. But since +historically the lesson is taught only by the cruel suffering of the +innocent and the guilty together, it is, in fact, indelibly stained. +"Ah!" said the most benignant of men, "it was a delightful discourse, +but preposterous from beginning to end." + +Yet its central idea, that it is the duty of educated men actively to +lead the progress of their time, is incontestable. The orator, indeed, +virtually arraigned his _alma mater_ for moral hesitation and +timidity. But a university lives in its children, and is judged by +them; and surely the history of civil and religious liberty in this +country from Samuel Adams, James Otis, and Joseph Warren down to +Channing and Parker, to Charles Sumner and Wendell Phillips, and the +brave boys of whom Memorial Hall is the monument, all of whom were +sons of Harvard, does not show that the old university has not +contributed her share of leadership. + +Such answers, striking and trenchant and admirable, were perhaps made +at the delightful dinner which followed the oration. Perhaps President +Eliot promptly took up and threw back with eloquent energy the gage +which had been thrown in the very face of the venerable mother by one +of her eminent children, so illustrating that ample resource and +sagacious firmness which have made his administration most efficient +and memorable. Perhaps Dr. Holmes, whose felicitous genius overflowing +in wit and music has long put the sparkling bead upon the Phi Beta +Kappa goblet, recited the lines whose response was the gay laughter +that rang through a pelting shower of rain far over the college +grounds. Perhaps as "Auld Lang Syne" was sung with locked hands at the +end of the dinner, if "Auld Lang Syne" is ever sung at Phi Beta Kappa +dinners, there was a general feeling that the day had been a +red-letter day for the university, and a white day in the recollection +of all who had heard one of the most charming discourses that were +ever delivered in the country, and had beheld a display of oratorical +art which in this time, at least, cannot be surpassed. + +But of all this nothing can ever be known, because the feasts of Phi +Beta Kappa are sealed with secrecy. + + + + +EASTER BONNETS. + + +It is not a great many years ago that, among Protestants in this +country, Easter was mainly the festival of one denomination, and even +within that denomination it was celebrated with comparatively little +pomp. But now it is universal, especially in the larger towns and +cities, and many churches decorate themselves with flowers, and +observe with annually accumulating splendor the great feast of the +immortal hope. The churches are filled with people. The music is +elaborate, and it is elaborately advertised during the preceding week, +and, by one of those odd coincidences which associate the most diverse +things, it is on Easter-Day that the new spring bonnets of the ladies +appear, and there is a delightful mingling of most diverse interests. + +"I have observed," said an elderly gentleman, as he watched from the +window of his club the pretty procession of new clothes winding +churchward on Easter morning, "that some ladies of high fashion dress +more and more elaborately as they advance in years, and as the sweet +light of youth fades from their eyes it is replaced by a greater blaze +of diamonds upon their persons." + +It was the venerable Ambassador from Sennaar who spoke, and who was +smiling pleasantly upon the cheerful scene. + +"For myself," he continued, "I can recall nothing more enchanting in +human form than the granddaughter of my old friend whom I went to see +some years ago in Newport, and who bounded in at the open window from +the garden on a perfect June morning--herself incarnate June--clad in +a white muslin dress, her hair simply knotted behind, holding a rose +in her hand, and with the loveliest rose in her cheeks. That young +woman, a girl not yet twenty, now has girls of her own more than +twenty. I wonder if she wears a very elaborate bonnet this Easter +morning, and whether her dress is a mass of pleats and puffs and +marvellous trimmings, which, when profusely extravagant upon the form +of an elder woman, always remind me of signals of distress hung out +upon a craft that is drifting far away from the enchanted isles of +youth. Is it the instinctive effort to prolong the brilliancy of youth +that induces the advancing woman to decorate herself so brightly? Is +it the involuntary hope that she will really seem to be buoyant and +gay of heart if only her dress be gay? As they go trooping by I mark +that richly caparisoned dowager, and I recall the days when I was +merely an attache of the embassy, and when in the modest parlor in +Bond Street she sang: + + "'I wadna walk in silk attire, + Nor siller hae to spare, + Gin I must from my true love part, + Nor think on Donald mair." + +The old gentleman from Sennaar is always permitted to have his own +way, and he prattles on without interruption. If you don't care to +listen, it is always easy to withdraw, and to look out at another +window, and to make your own comments instead of heeding his. + +"But that was not exactly what I had in mind as I watched this pretty +Easter procession," resumed the venerable Ambassador; "but the truth +is that when I see a crowd of brightly dressed women, my mind +scatters, as it were, and I am very apt not to hit my mark." + +The old gentleman smiled again. "All the fine spring bonnets of +Easter-Sunday do not prove the youth of every face under them, and I +wonder whether this splendid celebration of Easter means that you are +a more religious people than in the plainer Easter days that I +remember. Is the sincerity of religious feeling always in proportion +to the magnificence of the ritual? If it be, you have become a deeply +religious people, especially in your great city. We used to think at +the legation in Rome that the people of that city were in danger of +mistaking a punctual observance of religious ceremonies for religion. +But you are so intelligent that you are, of course, in no such danger. +I accept these beautiful flowers and this pretty procession of new +bonnets as the proof of your religious progress." + +The Ambassador paused reflectively a moment, and then continued: "You +send a great many missionaries to India and elsewhere. Is it because +you have no work for them at home? In my country, my benighted and +heathen Sennaar, we have a proverb that an ounce of practice is worth +a pound of profession. In Rome, I say, we used to fear lest the +people, with crossings and dippings and genuflections and repetitions +of a long series of invocations and confessions and penance and many +ceremonies, might come to confound these things with religion. But I +suppose that this blossoming Easter, this solemn abstention from 'the +German' in Lent, and this interest in draperies and postures, mean +that you devote the same energy and time and care to studying how to +help the helpless, how to console the suffering, how to teach poverty +to hope and labor for its own relief. It means that the richly attired +Christians who are walking in the most fashionable spring bonnets to +church on Easter-Sunday have learned who is their neighbor, and what +their duty is towards him, and are diligently doing it." + +The Ambassador removed his eyeglasses, and turned to smile blandly +upon the group of club-men near him. + +"This reflection," he continued, "makes me very happy, and fills me +with reverence for a Christian people. For if you built superb +churches in one street, and tolerated heathen squalor of soul and body +in the next street, you would crucify Christianity. No, no: these +sweet flowers of Easter are not symbols of your words, but of your +work; not of your professions, but of your practice." + +The old gentleman resumed his glasses, and looked silently at the +thronged street. How comfortable to believe with our venerable friend, +and to perceive that the great increase in the beauty of the Easter +commemoration is the fitting symbol of the corresponding increase in +our religious faith and practice! + + + + +JENNY LIND. + + +It is many years ago that the Easy Chair, making the grand tour, was +in Dresden, and saw in the newspaper that Jenny Lind, then in the +first fulness of her fame, would sing for four nights in Berlin. It +was in the autumn, and loitering along the Elbe and through the Saxon +Switzerland was a very fascinating prospect. But the chance of hearing +the Swedish Nightingale was more alluring than the Bastei and the +lovely view from Konigstein, and at once the order of travel was +interrupted, and the Easy Chair arrived eagerly in Berlin. + +The Berlin of those days was still a city in which the student could +live economically, and hear the lectures of great teachers upon the +most reasonable terms. But the sole interest of the moment was the +Northern singer, and upon reaching the hotel and making prompt +inquiry, the Easy Chair learned that chairs for the Lind +representations could be secured only at prices which were wholly +unprecedented in the staid Hohenzollern capital. The exigency of the +case, however, compelled the payment, and the Easy Chair devoted +eighteen thaler, or nearly as many American dollars, to obtaining a +seat to hear Jenny Lind for the first time. Never for such a sum was +bought so rich a treasure of delightful and unfading recollections, +always cheering and inspiring--an unwasting music which has murmured +and echoed through a life. + +The scene was the Royal Opera-house. The audience was the finest +society of the court; and even then the musical taste of Berlin, as if +forecasting Wagner, used to sneer loftily at that of Vienna, where +Flotow was about to produce "Martha," as a taste for _tanzmusik_. The +opera was the "Sonnambula," and after the pretty opening choruses and +dances, Amina came tripping to the front through the clustering +villagers. + +She was an ideal peasant maiden, blooming and blithe and fair, of an +indefinable simplicity and purity; the genuine peasant of the poetic +world, not a fine lady of Marie Antoinette's Petit Trianon playing at +rustic artlessness. The voice and the singing were but the natural +expression of that charming maidenhood. The full volume, the touching +sweetness of tone, the exquisite warble, the amazing skill and the +marvellous execution, with the perfect ease and repose of consummate +art, and the essential womanliness of the whole impression, were +indisputable and supreme. To a person sensitive to music and of a +certain ardor of temperament there could be no higher pleasure of the +kind. Every such person who heard Jenny Lind in her prime, from 1847 +to 1852, whether in opera or concert, can recall no greater delight +and satisfaction. + +Other famous singers charmed that happy time. But Jenny Lind, +rivalling their art, went beyond them all in touching the heart with +her personality. Certainly no public singer was ever more invested +with a halo of domestic purity. When she stood with her hands quietly +crossed before her and tranquilly sang "I know that my Redeemer +liveth," the lofty fervor of the tone, the rapt exaltation of the +woman, with the splendor of the vocalization, made the hearing an +event, and left a memory as of a sublime religious function. This +explains Jenny Lind's peculiar hold upon the mass of her audiences in +this country, who were honest, sober, industrious, moral American men +and women, to most of whom the opera was virtually an unknown, if not +a forbidden, delight. Malibran had sung here in the freshness of her +voice and charm; Caradori-Allan, Cinti-Damoreau, Alboni, Parepa, and +other delightful singers followed her. Grisi came, too, but in her +decline. Still others have ruled their hour. But in the general memory +of the country Jenny Lind remains unequalled. There was the +unquestionable quality in her song which made Mendelssohn say that +such a musical genius appears but once in a century. + +It was a pleasant little New York to which she came, but it thought +itself a very important city. Fanny Ellsler had bewitched the town a +few years before; and some graybeards and baldheads, now tottering in +the sun upon Broadway, but then the golden youth of Manhattan, took +the horses from the Bayadere's carriage and drew her in triumph to her +hotel. Ole Bull, also, had come conquering out of the North like a +young Viking, charming and subduing, and Vieuxtemps came also, +disputing the palm. The town took sides. The virtuosi applauded +Vieuxtemps as a true artist, and shrugged at Ole Bull as an eccentric +player. If you whispered "Paganini?" they silently shrugged the more. +Still the young Viking fascinated young and old. He played like the +Pied Piper, and the entranced country danced after. But when Jenny +Lind came, the welcome to the singer as yet unheard was more +prodigious than that offered to any other European visitor except +Dickens. It was managed, of course, by Barnum. It was advertising. But +that was only until she sang. After that first evening at Castle +Garden the delight advertised itself. + +In this day, Wagner _consule_, of the eclipse of Italian opera, the +programme of a Lind concert will perhaps win a glance of curiosity +even from the lovers of "Tristan und Isolde," who follow with +reverence in the parquette the mighty score of the trilogy upon the +stage. Here, for instance, is the programme of a charitable concert of +Jenny Lind's in Boston on Thursday evening, the both of October, 1850, +just a month after her first concert in the country at Castle Garden +in New York on the 11th of September. The programme is a pamphlet +opening with four marvellous wood-cut likenesses of Jenny Lind, Jules +Benedict, her conductor; Signor Belletti, the barytone, and Mr. +Barnum. The words or each song in the original and in translation are +printed upon separate pages, and the whole concludes with sketches of +the lives of Jenny Lind, Signer Benedict, Signor Belletti--and Mr. +Barnum. The selection of music comprises Beethoven's overture to +"Egmont;" an air from the "Elijah," first time in America, sung by +Jenny Lind; "Non piu andrai," from Mozart's "Nozze di Figaro," by +Signor Belletti; piano solo, Mendelssohn's "Songs without Words," by +Signor Benedict; and, for the first time in America also, "Und ob die +Wolke," from "Der Freischutz," by Jenny Lind. This was the first part. +The second part began with Reissiger's overture, "Die Felsenmuhle;" +Signor Belletti then sang the "Piff Paff," from Meyerbeer's +"Huguenots;" Jenny Lind followed with the "Come per me sereno," from +the "Sonnambula," for the first time in America; then Belletti with +the "Miei rampolli," from Rossini's "Cenerentola;" and the concert +ended with the "Dalecarlian Melody" and the "Mountaineer's Song," both +for the first time, by Jenny Lind. + +It would be still possible even for the devoutest Wagnerian disciple +to hear such a concert, perhaps, without leaving the hall in +indignation, perhaps even without a protest. All the concerts were of +uniform excellence, and the Easy Chair is a competent witness, at +least so far as attendance is concerned, for it heard all of the Lind +concerts in New York except the first. During the second season an +unknown name appeared one evening upon the bill, which announced that +Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, a young and unknown pianist, would play for the +first time in this country. Tripler Hall, opposite Bond Street upon +Broadway, was crowded as usual, and when Jenny Lind had withdrawn +after singing one of her "numbers," a slight, dark-haired youth came +upon the stage and seated himself at the piano. He was courteously +greeted, and just as he was about to begin, the door opened quietly at +the back of the stage, and Jenny Lind stood in full view of the +audience tranquilly to listen. At a happy point in the performance she +clapped heartily, and the whole house, following its lovely leader, +burst into a storm of applause. The young man bowed to the audience +and to "Miss Lind," and, as he ended, with more hand-clapping and a +bright and kindly smile Jenny Lind vanished, having secured the +success of Mr. Otto Goldschmidt. It was a pretty scene. Perhaps the +_prima donna assoluta_ recalled the famous brava-a-a-a of Lablache on +her first evening at her Majesty's Opera-house in London, which +satisfied England that she was a great singer, and confirmed her +career. To the audience her friendly interest seemed the impulse of +her kindly heart for a young neophyte in this profession. To Mr. Otto +Goldschmidt--! + +Ole Bull returned to the country before Jenny Lind left it, and one +evening, when she was staying at the Stevens House, in Broadway by the +Bowling Green, she gave a dinner, and Ole Bull was among the guests. +After dinner he seated himself at the piano, and running over the +keys, struck into some wild minor chords, and began to sing Norwegian +songs. They were of a singular melancholy, but very beautiful, and the +company listened intently. Jenny Lind especially sat rapt in the +music, until, after one of the songs, she rose quietly, and moving +steadily across the floor as if carrying a jar of water upon her head +and fearing to spill a drop, she pushed Ole Bull from his chair, and +seating herself in his place at the piano, reproduced the entire song +with exquisite pathos. + +Indeed, it was in these characteristic Northern songs, full of strange +and romantic tenderness, and suggestive of solitary seas and wide, +lonely horizons, of awful mountain heights and secluded valleys of +sober and sequestered life, that her voice seemed most extraordinary +and her skill most marvellous. Romantic singing, picturesque, +mournful, weird, could go no further. She was the spirit of the North +singing its hymn, and the audience sat enchanted under the melodious +spell. A veteran, as he recalls those days, might well suspect that he +is still enthralled by the magician's wand of youth, and that it is +not fact, but only its rosy exaggeration, which he describes. But the +contemporary records of that astonishing career remain, and they +confirm his story. The prices paid for tickets, the enormous receipts, +and the generous gifts in charity of Jenny Lind are not fables. Yet +the glamour of youth has its part in all recollection of the days of +splendor in the flower. Once when the Easy Chair was extolling the +melodious Swede to a senior, the hearer listened patiently, with a +remote look in his eyes, and replied at last, musingly, "Yes, but you +should have heard Malibran." + +The series of American concerts which began on the 11th of September, +1850, at Castle Garden ended at the same place on the 24th of May, +1852. The vast space was not well suited for singing, but the +magnificent voice filled it completely, and in the fascinated silence +of the immense throng every exquisite note of the singer was heard. +She sang with evident feeling, and with responsive tenderness the +audience listened. Every time that she appeared she carried a fresh +bouquet, the sight of which gladdened some ardent young heart. But +when at last she came forward to sing the farewell to America, for +which Goldschmidt had composed the music, she bore in her hand a +bouquet of white rose-buds, with a Maltese cross of deep carnations in +the centre. This she held while for the last time in public she sang +in America; and the young traveller who, five years before, had turned +aside at Dresden to hear Jenny Lind in Berlin, alone in all that great +audience at Castle Garden knew who had sent those flowers. + + + + +THE TOWN. + + +In the city that we like to call the metropolis, the newspapers enable +us to begin every day with the knowledge that yesterday Mr. and Mrs. +A. entertained at dinner Messieurs and Mesdames B., C., D., E., F., +G., H., I., and J. And why is this precious knowledge imparted to us? +Why are we not also taught what else they did during the day? Why do +we learn nothing of Mr. and Mrs. Y. and Z., at the other end of the +alphabet, in Baxter Street? For these good folks who are mentioned are +in no way distinguished except for riches. If, indeed, they had done +or said or written anything memorable, if they had painted fine +pictures, or carved statues of mark, or designed noble buildings, or +composed beautiful music; if they had effected humane reforms, had +happily cheered or refined or enriched human life, or in any way had +made the world better and men and women happier, the curiosity to hear +of them, and to see them, and to read of their daily course of life, +would be as intelligible as the pleasure in seeing the birthplace of +Burns, or walking in Anne Hathaway's garden, or hearing of Abraham +Lincoln, or seeing Washington's bedstead and sitting in his chair. + +But to read day after day in the paper, this golden domesday-book, the +lists of rich people who ate terrapin together, or danced together in +lace frills and white cravats afterwards, and to read it with avidity, +is what might be done in some world of satire. But in a hard-working, +sensible, Yankee world! You might say that nobody does read it, but +the column of the newspaper which is devoted to this narrative, +contrasted with the few paragraphs in which the important news from +all parts of the globe is discussed, refutes you. The newspaper +understands itself. It is a shrewd merchant who supplies the demand in +the market. + +But is there no other than a humiliating explanation of the fact? Is +it only snobbishness, a mean admiration of mean things? Are we all +essentially lackeys who love to wear a livery? Or is it not +rather--all this interest in the small performances of those who, if +distinguished for nothing else, are the distinguished favorites of +fortune--the result of the ceaseless aspiration for a better +condition, and the instinct of the imagination to decorate our lives +with the vision of a fairer circumstance than our own, and to revenge +the tyranny of fate by the hope of heaven? If the fine Titania could +sing to Bottom, + + "Mine ear is much enamored of thy note, + ... + Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful," + +why should not our liberal fancy sing the same song to the Four +Hundred? They may be deftly enchanted to our eyes if to no others, and +to our view our Bottom also be translated. + +It is not what they are, but what we believe them to be, of which we +read in the newspaper. The poor sewing-girl, as she stitches her life +away "in poverty, hunger, and dirt," seeing unconsciously the fairy +texture and costly delicacy of the robe she fashions, follows it in +fancy to the form which is to wear it, and which to that fancy must +needs be that of a most lovely and most gracious woman, because none +other would that soft splendor of raiment befit. The lofty and +benignant lady must needs also mate with her kind, and move only among +those "learn'd and fair and good as she." All the circumstance of life +must conform, and amid light and perfume and music the unspeakable +hours of such women, such men, glide by.--The girl's head droops. For +one brief moment she dreams, and that charmed life is real. + +In a less degree, in our prosaic and plodding daily routine, we invest +the life of the favorites of fortune with an ideal charm. It is, to +our fond fancy, all that it might be. Those figures are not what +Circe's wand might disclose. They are gods and goddesses feasting, and +in happier moments we feign ourselves possible Ixions to be admitted +to the celestial banquet. In the streets of the summer city their +palaces are closed, their brilliant equipages are gone; they do not +sparkle and murmur in their opera boxes, nor roll stately in slow +lines along the trimmed avenues of the Park. But still the celestial +life proceeds, a little out of sight, its lovely leisure brimmed with +deeds becoming those who have no care but to do good and to +transfigure their own fair fortune into a blessing for the world. We +read the gross details of dress and dinner. But they remind us only +more keenly of the ample resource, the boundless opportunity which our +favorites of fortune enjoy. + +Thus, Orestes, we ponder the society column not because we are snobs, +but because our imaginations take fire; the dry narrowness and hard +conditions of our lives are soothed as we contemplate those who have +no excuse not to be benefactors; and what they should be, our +imaginations, benevolent to ourselves, assure us that they are. + + + + +SARAH SHAW RUSSELL. + + +There died lately a woman not known to the public, but whose loss to +those who personally knew her can never be made good. The summer that +shall come may bring as of old roses and violets, but the summer that +is gone will never return. In the memory of all of us there are +persons who seem to have revealed to us the best that we know and are; +they are so lofty that we are raised, so noble that we are ennobled; +so pure that we are purified. They are generally women whose lives are +noiseless, who live at home, wives and mothers, without the ambition +that spurs men to strive for renown, but their days are full of such +richness of beautiful life that its fitting image is that finest +flower of tropical luxuriance, the magnificent Victoria Regia. + +A nature so modest and simple, and a life so private that it seems +almost a wrong to speak of them publicly, yet a character so firm and +tranquil and self-possessed that if necessary it would have met +without doubt or hesitation any form of martyrdom, can hardly be +described without apparent exaggeration. She was born, in our familiar +phrase, a lady, and from the beginning, throughout a long life, she +was surrounded with perfect ease of circumstance. She was singularly +beautiful in her youth, and to the close of her life she had the charm +of personal loveliness. Her manner was direct and frank and cheerful, +and with her perfect candor and vigorous good-sense it scattered the +trivial and smirking artificialities of social intercourse as a clear +wind from the north-west cools and refreshes the sultry languors of +August. Early married to a man of the highest character and aims, and +of that practical good-sense which makes ability most effective, she +was in entire sympathy with his wise and humane interests, and thus in +her family she was most fortunate and happy. + +Yet by beauty, wealth, position, and the natural possession of the +prizes for which life is generally a struggle, she was wholly +unspoiled. Her views of duty and of just human relations were so clear +and true that she reinvigorated the conscience of all who knew her. +She was curiously free from the little weaknesses which we +instinctively excuse in ourselves and others, and although her +absolute truthfulness necessarily but involuntarily rebuked us all, we +could no more be angry than with our own consciences. The reproach was +entirely involuntary. Never was a woman more tenderly tolerant of +every honest difference, or more careful not to wound either by look +or word or tone. Too true herself to suspect falsity in others, she +was much too sensible to assume the part of Mentor. + +In the great mental and moral activity of her generation she was +instinctively liberal, and never questioned in others the complete +soul-liberty, as Roger Williams called it, which she calmly and +naturally maintained for herself. No reform could conceal from her its +essential value as a high aspiration, a good impulse, if nothing more; +and however grotesque and extravagant the reformer, she pierced his +mask of eccentricity and welcomed the earnest seeker, bewildered and +blinded though he might be. She judged speech and action by a +remarkable intuition of right and wrong, and it was interesting to see +how surely and smoothly she cut sophistry straight through to the +truth which it muffled and distorted. Men and women she valued solely +for their intrinsic worth, and never by conventional standards. A +fugitive slave and the Prince of Wales would have been treated by her +in a way which would have assured them both that the different +circumstances of their condition did not obscure their equal humanity. + +To say this must not leave the impression that she was other than a +lady of the simplest, most refined, and most unobtrusive but cordial +manner. There must be no vision of a Lady Bountiful, or of a Lady of +the Manor, or of any self-conscious personage whatever. But a stronger +influence upon the lives with which she was brought in contact cannot +well be conceived, nor the perennial hope and encouragement which her +cheerful presence inspired. Domestic sorrows touched that strong and +noble heart not to any vehement demonstration, but to a deeper faith +and a sober serenity, which interpreted the poet's sense of "the still +sad music of humanity." Courage, confidence, cheerfulness--these were +the good angels that dwelt with her, and through her they breathed +their benediction on all whom she loved or who personally knew her. As +she lived in communion with great thoughts and the widest human +sympathies, so that her life, like our stillest, harvest-ripening +days, passed in sunny repose, so the end was peace. With no wasting +malady, no long decay of faculty, she tranquilly slept. + +There is nothing that poets feign of women that was not justified by +her. In thinking of her lofty life there is no need of excuse or +allowance; for human nature, as it was never more unassuming or +simple, was never greater and lovelier than in her. Beautiful and wise +and brave and gentle and good, the thought of her is perpetual +blessing. + + + + +STREET MUSIC. + + +A man grinding a hand-organ in the street is doubtless a sturdy beggar +soliciting alms. A band of men blowing simultaneously into brass +instruments, with a brazen pretence of making music, is probably like +steam-whistles and church-bells and the cries of newspaper extras and +of itinerant peddlers of many wares--a noisy nuisance. Yet the old +cries of London, although doubtless strident and disturbing, have a +certain romantic charm of association and tradition. Like the Tower +and Billingsgate and Wapping Old Stairs, they were parts of very +London, and London was less London when they ceased. + +Were those old cries of the story-book, like the interpreted voices of +the church-bells-- + + "Kettles and pans, + Says the bell of St. Ann's; + Apples and lemons, + Says the bell of St. Clement's,"-- + +altogether shameless and exasperating noises? Were they not the same +voices that called Whittington to turn again? Was not the deep bay of +St. Paul's heard when Nelson, the old sea-dog, died? Could the music +of the bells be spared from the story of London more than that of the +cries? Is the milkman who announces the arrival of the morning's milk +with a "barbaric yawp," like that in which Mr. Whitman is supposed to +celebrate his own personality, a sturdy beggar? He would certainly +resent the imputation. He is a merchant who sells a desirable +commodity. Shall he be adjudged a nuisance? + +But Signor Raffaello da Perugia, who produces opera airs upon a +portable organ, with Don Whiskerando, who mounts with agility to the +parlor window to receive the consideration in his feathered cap, is he +not also a merchant who sells music to you in selected varieties, the +latest popular songs and tunes of the theatre, the waltz of last +year's ball-room? Must he be accounted a sturdy beggar because you +happen not to be in immediate want of his wares? Or the band of which +we were speaking, which arrives at the hour when the master of the +house returns from his office, and performs a serenade of welcome as +he greets the circle from which he has been absent since breakfast, +shall it be denied the pleasure of heightening the pleasure of others? +Are not the taxes of these Jem Baggses, these wandering minstrels, the +"only rates uninvidious in the levy, ungrudged in the assessment?" + +Where the intent is so unequivocally kindly, is it not gross and +unfeeling to suggest in the modest orchestra a questionable chord, a +cracked reed, a cornet out of tune? Why so insistent, so scrupulously +exigent? Are you never out of tune, good sir? Your chords, say in the +domestic concert, are they always finely harmonious, and your own reed +never cracked? Why so eager to cast the first stone? Yonder trombone +may have its weaknesses--who of us, pray, is without? Has tolerance +gone out with astrology? "He had his faults," said the Reverend Bland +Sudds yesterday in a funeral discourse upon the Honorable Richard +Turpin--"he had his faults, yes, for he was human." But if a man may +falter, shall we not forgive to a trombone even a half-note? If Turpin +may be respectfully lamented with indulgent hope, shall a hesitating +horn be doomed to "the all-sweeping besom of societarian reformation?" + +While Eugenio was making the grand tour he loitered in Venice and +lingered in Naples, wandering to Paestum, feasting in the orange +groves of Sorrento, and penetrating the Blue Grotto at Capri. In +Venice the songs of the country, in Naples the barcarolles, made his +memory as he came away a thicket of singing-birds. Those ever-renewed +snatches and remembered refrains of songs, Venetian and Neapolitan, +like a sponge passed over a Giorgione, brought out the mellow richness +of Italy, and as he paced Broadway and hummed a tender melody, he +walked where Vittoria Colonna had trod, and heard the faint beat of +oars upon moonlit Como. One morning, hard at work in his chamber, +where only the confused roar of the city was audible, a strain rose +high and clear above it all, with a soft, pathetic, penetrating +urgency, "So' marinaro di questa marina," and, all else forgotten, he +was once more rocking on Italian waters, and the red-capped +fisher-boys filled the air with song. + +He ran down, and into the street, and around the block, and, lo! +Signor Raffaello was the fond magician. He was turning the crank of +his heavy organ, and Don Whiskerando, feathered cap in hand, was +climbing the balcony of the drawing-room windows, and Signor Raffaello +was raising his eyes towards the upper windows to see if haply some +child or nurse attended. Eugenio dropped more than a penny into the +ready hand of the signore, and was gone before the swarthy magician +could make out his benefactor. Eugenio gained his room, and with +sympathetic intelligence the signore, playing out the College +Hornpipe, once more touched the stop of "So' marinaro," and renewed +the happy spell. + +It is not fine music, that of the hand-organ and the street bands; it +is indeed too oft a cracked and spavined pleasure. Doubtless it is +justly classified as one of the street noises, and street noises are +probably nuisances to be abated. But strolling in the eastern quarters +of the city, beyond the domain of the Academy and the Metropolitan +Opera-house and the halls of Steinway and Chickering, have you never +seen an eager and ragged little rabble happily watching Don +Whiskerando, while their elders are plainly pleased for a moment with +that tuneful noise? The fruit is not wholly sound, but it is far from +rotten. The music is poor, but the pleasure is unquestionable. +Possibly the "Gotterdammerung," and even Siegfried's "Tod," would pass +these people unmarked, like the wind. They cannot hold those mighty +measures. But they are receptive of these little tunes. In a life of +not much enjoyment this brings them some pleasure. Shall it be stopped +altogether? It is the business of these peddlers of tunes to wander. +They will move on if you do not want them. But must they also move +away from those who do want them? + +If there be too much noise in the streets, might not some other form +of noise have been first silenced than that of the street musicians? +There are the factory whistles and the church-bells. For the necessity +of the first something may be said. But the heavy clangor of the bells +is doubtless more than a discomfort to many, and it is wholly useless, +while the music of the organs and the bands is a pleasure. Do the +Aldermen, like Homer, sometimes nod? Sometimes, for an inadvertent +hour, do the finer instincts of public spirit flag in those civic +bosoms? What evil genius, hostile to the enjoyment of the people, +persuaded them? Did the city fathers for one ill-starred moment forget +their Tacitus, and silence the street music unmindful of those words, +so familiar to them in their hours of classic relaxation--_Solitudinem +faciunt, pacem appellant_? + + + + +A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY. + + +Mr. Lester Wallack in his reminiscences speaks of Thackeray, whom he +knew in New York, and recalls with admiration his simple and hearty +ways. Wallack says that as he returned from acting at his father's +theatre, then at the corner of Broadway and Broome Street, to his +lodgings in Houston Street, he used to pass Thackeray's quarters, who +was living with the late William D. Robinson in Houston Street, and if +he saw a light in the window he went in, and the gentlemen finished +the night together. He says that Thackeray had a boy's enjoyment of +the stories that the late-comer told, and although the guest does not +say it, the reader easily imagines that had he been in Thackeray's +place he would have shared Thackeray's pleasure in the gayeties of his +guest. Thackeray had the tastes of the town, and Charles Marlowe and +My Awful Dad were sure to bring their own welcome. + +Wallack also alludes to a dinner which Thackeray gave at the old +Delmonico's, at the corner of Broadway and Chambers Street, at the end +of his first visit to this country. He had been most warmly received, +and he had given universal delight by his lectures upon the English +Humorists. The charm of these lectures is evident in the reading, but +the pleasure of hearing them is quite indescribable. They were +delivered in Dr. Chapin's old church, upon the east side of Broadway +just below Prince Street, to an exceedingly intelligent and +sympathetic audience, who knew their enjoyment to be the highest kind +of literary pleasure. The thorough appreciation of the men whom he +described, the sweet and sinewy simplicity of his English, of which he +was a twin master with Hawthorne, the constant play of his kindly +humor, and manly pathos and sympathy, with his rich voice and massive, +magnetic presence, his melodious and refined inflection in speaking, +and his quiet, easy, colloquial manner, thrusting thumbs and +forefingers in his waistcoat-pockets--all these, pleasing to the mind +and sense, made him the pleasantest of lecturers, and still enchant +the memory of those + + "happy evenings all too swiftly sped." + +Just before he sailed upon his return to England he gave the dinner at +Delmonico's of which Wallack speaks, to repay many civilities, and +assembled a miscellaneous party of twenty or thirty guests. They were +men of various distinction, "everybody being somebody," as one of the +guests remarked while he glanced around the table. Thackeray was in +high spirits, and when the cigars were lighted he said that there +should be no speech-making, but that everybody, according to the old +rule of festivity, should sing a song or tell a story. Lester +Wallack's father, James Wallack, was one of the guests, and with a +kind of shyness, which was unexpected but very agreeable in a veteran +actor, he pleaded earnestly that he could not sing and knew no story. +But with friendly persistence, which yet was not immoderate, Thackeray +declared that no excuse could be allowed, because it would be a +manifest injustice to every other modest man at table, and put a +summary end to the hilarity. It was to be a general sacrifice, a +round-table of magnanimity. "Now, Wallack," he continued, "we all know +you to be a truthful man. You can, of course, since you say so, +neither sing a song nor tell a story. But I tell you what you can do, +and what every soul at this table knows you can do better than any +living man--you can give us the great scene from the 'Rent Day.'" + +There was a burst of enthusiastic agreement, and old Wallack, smiling +and yielding, still sitting at the table in his evening dress, +proceeded in a most effective and touching recitation from one of his +most famous parts. It was curious to observe from the moment he began +how completely independent of all accessories the accomplished actor +was, and how perfectly he filled the part as if he had been in full +action upon the stage. It is only this effect that the Easy Chair +recalls, but it was not to be forgotten. No enjoyment of it was +greater, and no applause sincerer than those of Thackeray, who +presently sang his "Little Billee" with infinite gusto. The song and +story went round, as Lester Wallack records, but the by-play of the +dinner, which is often the best part of such a banquet, was different +for each of the guests. The Easy Chair recalls one incident which was +a striking illustration of the masterly and phenomenal assurance of a +well-known figure in the Bohemian circles of New York at that time, +but whom it must veil under the name of Uncle Ulysses. + +By the side of the Chair sat a poet, whom also it must protect by the +name of Candide, for a simpler and sincerer literary man never lived. +It was in the time, as Thackeray was fond of saying, _Planco Consule_, +which in this instance means in the time of the old _Putnam's Monthly +Magazine_. The number for the month had been just published, and +Candide had contributed to it his "Hesperides," a charming poem, +although the reader will not find that title in his works. He and the +Easy Chair were speaking of the magazine, when Uncle Ulysses, who had +never met Candide, and knew him only by name, dropped into the chair +beyond him, and at a convenient moment made some pleasant remark to +the Easy Chair across Candide, who sat placidly smoking. "By-the-bye," +said Uncle Ulysses presently, "what a good number of _Putnam_ it is +this month! But, my dear Easy Chair, can you tell me why it is that +all our young American poets write nothing but Longfellow and water? +Here in this month's _Putnam_ there is a very pretty poem called +'Hesperides.' Very pretty, but nothing but diluted Longfellow." + +This was said to the Easy Chair most unsuspiciously across the author +of the poem, and the moment it was uttered, the Easy Chair, to prevent +any further disaster, broke in and said, "Yes, it is a delightful +poem, written by our friend Candide, who sits beside you. Pray let me +introduce you. Mr. Candide, this is Uncle Ulysses." + +Candide turned, evidently swelling with anger, and the Easy Chair was +extremely uncertain of the event, when Uncle Ulysses, with exquisite +urbanity and a look of surprise and pleasure, held out his hand, and +said: "Mr. Candide, this is a pleasure which I have long anticipated. +I am very much honored in making your acquaintance, and I was just +speaking to the Easy Chair of your delightful poem just published in +_Putnam_. I congratulate you with all my heart." + +Candide, astonished but perplexed, and yielding to the perfect +_bonhomie_ of Uncle Ulysses, half involuntarily put out his hand, +which our uncle shook warmly, and in five minutes his fascinating +tongue had charmed Candide so completely that the Easy Chair is +confident that the good poet always supposed that in some +extraordinary manner he had misunderstood Uncle Ulysses's remark +touching the imitative tendency of young American poets. + +So one reminiscence produces an ever-widening ripple of reminiscences. +Those which circle about the recollection of Thackeray in this country +are very many, but generally unrecorded. They linger, and appear +occasionally in allusions like those of Lester Wallack. But whenever +they are told they pay homage to the humorist. They recall his +constant, sturdy, kindly simplicity and kindliness. Wallack speaks of +a certain boyish or boy-like quality in Thackeray. It was certainly +there. He had the utmost sympathy with boys, and one of his gay +caricatures of himself represents him at a Christmas pantomime +standing with two boys behind the rest of the audience, he towering +aloft and seeing everything over other people's heads, while his poor +little comrades, far down about his knees, ruefully see nothing. But +you know that if no other seat could be found, the good giant would +soon have them upon his shoulders, and all would be boyishly happy +together. "They think I am a grinning surgeon with a scalpel," said +the tender-hearted man. But those who have not found and felt the +heart are yet to learn to know Thackeray. + + + + +CECILIA PLAYING. + + +As the great musical artists, especially the pianists, arrive one +after the other, and lead the town captive, one asks, not whether +there be any limit to the number, but to the skill. Last year there +was the prodigy, the phenomenon, the boy Hofmann, and all the +superlatives were spent in his praise. This year it is Rosenthal--valley +of roses--and sweet as their attar is his spell. "Well, what is he?" +"Simply miraculous; never was there anything like him." "But +Rubinstein?" "Yes, a great genius, but he himself said that at every +concert he dropped notes enough to furnish two concerts." "Then it is +skill only, _technique_?" "Not at all; it is perfection of feeling, +conception, touch, everything. Perhaps not the greatest of composers. +But for playing--ah!" + +Rapture is one kind of criticism. Perhaps in music, the effect of +which is emotional, rapture, if you know the person, is the best +criticism. The artist who can kindle to the utmost enthusiasm of +delight a musically sensitive person who is also an exquisitely +skilful player, and whom mere marvels of execution do not affect +beyond reason, may be accepted as a very remarkable artist. +Temperament also counts for much in estimating musicians. Natures are +sympathetic. A silent, separate chord vibrates in response to a thrill +of sound which leaves other things unmoved. The heart of the young man +speaks to the psalmist, but the old man's may be dull and unawakened. +The homoeopathic formula, like cures like, may be adapted to musical +criticism at least so far as to say that like touches like. + +When Cecilia says that she has been enchanted by the playing of any +artist, the quality of her feeling and expression justly interprets +the character of his performance. When Jenny Lind first sang in +America one of the most accomplished critics said that he must wait a +little to decide whether she was a great singer. That critic could +never really hear her. Another said that she was a consummate +ventriloquist. He meant that in the Herdsman's Song and the other +Volkslieder and native melodies there was an effect of vocalism which +seemed to him a trick. But to others it suggested wide, solitary +horizons, the sadness and seclusion of remote Northern life. Mere +imagination, retorted the critics. Yes, but to what does art, +especially musical art, appeal? Rubinstein, as he said of himself, +dropped notes without number under the piano. Thalberg did not, nor +Henri Herz. But they dropped something which Rubinstein did not. The +sunshine of a December day in this latitude is often cloudless and +beautiful. But it unfolds no rose and restores no leaf to the bare +bough. + +A sweet and true, a full-volumed and thoroughly trained voice, is a +rare gift to any man. But without a certain quality in the singer it +is a perfect fruit without flavor. The singing that haunts us, which +becomes part of our life, which fills the memory with tender and happy +images of other days and scenes, is not necessarily that of the finest +voices, but of that mingling in music of voice and skill and feeling +which weave an enchanted spell. Those who have known the troubadour +Riccardo have doubtless heard what are called greater voices, artists +who hold for a triumphant moment the hazardous peak of the high C, +whose roulades and phrasing are exquisite and admirable. But the +singer whom they wish to hear, whose singing is a part of life, like +the beauty of flowers and the dawn, is the singing of the troubadour +Riccardo. It is so with Cecilia's playing, and it is impossible to +suppose a person sensitive to music who could escape its spell. + +When she sits at the piano and touches the keys, they respond, as one +whom she fascinated said, with such smooth sweetness that you think +there is conscious pleasure to them in that pressure. It is apparently +as gentle, he insisted, as that of the breeze upon the grass which +lightly sways beneath it. The impression upon this sensitive youth was +a test of the character of her playing. If he had said she sings with +her fingers he would have said what he doubtless thought, and what is +true. She plays German songs--some of the familiar songs in the +collections, or something of Lassen's or Weit's, or Abt's, or one of a +thousand other songs, and the playing is like exquisite singing. It +fills the mind with pictures, with persons, with scenes, and with that +unspeakable content which only such music can give to the lovers of +music. "What on earth is it all about?" said the Senator at the +Symphony Concert, "and why do people come here?" The Hottentot would +have asked the same question if he had heard the Senator upon the +stump. + +If the fairy godmother who presides over the cradle should give the +newcomer the choice of gifts, what gift more precious could the young +stranger ask than the power of giving a pleasure so pure as that which +Cecilia's playing imparts? It is one of her praises that if the choice +had been given to her she would instantly have selected the very power +which the good fairy bestowed. For in giving the pleasure she does +only what she delights to do and would have chosen to do. One +philosopher, speaking to the Easy Chair of another, whose serenity was +as undisturbed by events as the firmament by clouds, said of himself +that he subdued more devils before breakfast every day than his serene +brother had encountered in his whole life. Yet the serene brother's +lofty repose was not less admirable because it was a quality of +temperament, and not a triumph of the will; and it is not less the +merit of Cecilia that the happiness she diffuses is as involuntary as +the fragrance of the sweetbrier. + +What is done without effort seems not to have been taught, and it is +not easy to fancy Cecilia drudging at exercises and laboring at +scales. Canaries, indeed, are trained to sing, and even young birds to +fly. Yet the training is but showing them how to give themselves free +play. To express entire facility we say that an act is done as +naturally as a bird sings. Not less naturally does Cecilia play. You +listen, and the song which you knew seems to sing itself, but +enveloped with a richness and fulness of flowing accompaniment which +is like the harping of aerial choirs. Then with others she plays the +great music, concerted Bach or Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann, or Wagner, +Weber or Mendelssohn; now an old gavotte, now a quaint fantasia, and +why not a toccata of Galuppi Baldassero? It is more than a hint or a +reminiscence, although it is not an orchestra. But when those fingers +kindred with Cecilia's sweep the keys together, the listener wonders +whether the hearer of the full orchestra has caught from it the subtle +and exquisite significance of the strain which has poured from those +enchanted pianos. + +The piano is called an inadequate instrument. Perhaps it is, until you +hear Cecilia play. Then by some secret sympathy you find yourself +murmuring, "Not so sweetly sang Plumer as thou sangest, mild, +childlike, pastoral M----; a flute's breathing less divinely +whispering than thy Arcadian melodies when, in tones worthy of Arden, +thou didst chant that song sung by Amiens to the banished Duke, which +proclaims the winter wind more lenient than for a man to be +ungrateful!" + + + + +THE MANNERLESS SEX. + + +To be told that the lily is not the flower of vestals, but of Venus, +could not be more surprising than to be assured that the mannerless +sex is not that of the troubadour Rudel, but of the Lady of Tripoli, +to whom he sang. Such a suggestion is, of course, but a merry fancy. +Could any critic, however inclined to misogyny, seriously allege +ill-manners against the sex of Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother? Yet +this is precisely what has been recently done. + +One censor enumerates and catalogues and classifies the sins against +good manners of which the sex is guilty. He presents a philosophical +analysis of the recondite forms of feminine discourtesy. It is the +ancient sage again pitilessly exposing the Lamia. It is Circe +out-Circed. He details the degrees of offence--in young women, in +women who are no longer classed as girls, in nearly all women, in +women with the fewest social duties. Then the boundless Sahara of +ill-manners opening before him, and with a certain zest of unsparing +scrutiny, he treats of the behavior of women in the horse-cars, at the +railway station buying tickets, at the post-office, where the rule is +imperative, first come first served, but where this chief of sinners +presses for a reversal of the beneficent rule of equality in her +favor. + +Still more flagrant aspects of misconduct rise upon the censor's view +of the sex. The shameful or shocking treatment by woman of those whom +she holds to be her inferiors cries to Heaven. Her heartless detention +of railway porters staggering under their burdens, her browbeating of +"tradespeople," cause this observer of fine susceptibilities and an +acute sense of the becoming to lament the desuetude of the +ducking-stool. The more general outrage, however, apparently common to +the sex from Helen of Troy to Florence Nightingale, is, according to +our censor, the spite of women towards each other, which mounts into +an ecstasy of rudeness when "woman goes a-shopping." + +But our Cato the elder does not permit man truculently to exalt +himself by contrast with discourteous woman. He expressly disclaims +the declaration of the implication that man is mannerly, while woman +is not. In many men he remarks indifference to rudimentary courtesies, +and in many women a gentle regard for others which deserves even +eulogy. The sum of the whole matter, nevertheless, is that the average +woman is more neglectful of common courtesy than the average man. + +"And no wonder," exclaims Cato the younger, "for the foolish fondness +of man teaches her discourtesy." If man, instead of giving her his +seat in the railway car, and slavishly removing his hat in the +elevator, and acquiescing in her tyrannical hat at the theatre, +insisted upon his legal rights in a bargain, and required the railroad +company to furnish without evasion the commodity of seats for which it +has been paid, or if he brought the manager to task for allowing one +of his customers to steal what he has sold to another--namely, a view +of the play--the world would tremble on the edge of the millennium of +good manners. + +This terrible arraignment is a comprehensive accusation of selfishness +against the sex. But it seems to be a generalization founded on a +local and restricted observation. It is true of the woman of many +artists and critics. The women of Du Maurier, for instance, belong to +"a set," but they are not representatives of a sex. Becky Sharp is no +more a typical woman than Amelia, or Scott's Rebecca. Major Dobbin is +as much a type of men as Lord Steyne. Should our social censor +sequester himself for a time in any remote rural community, it would +hardly occur to him to signalize the sex of the rural wives and +mothers as the selfish sex. And in town, although there are a few +fleeting hours of flattered youth in which the beautiful and fortunate +Helen may tread on air and breathe adulation until she feels herself a +goddess, yet a newer and younger Helen is always gently pushing her +from the throne. Of all seasons that of blossoms is the briefest, and +the maturer Helen, of whom the sex is composed, is not wayward and +selfish, is no longer "uncertain, coy, and hard to please," but +patient, self-sacrificing, and true. + +Man was self-convicted from the beginning. Could there be more +ineffable selfishness than Adam's plea in the garden? "The woman whom +thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree and I did eat." Had +Eve been of no finer stuff than he, she would have left him there. But +his craven answer at once revealed the essential weakness that +demanded the devoted stay of unselfish constancy. Were woman the +ever-selfish, Eve would have abandoned Adam to himself while she +tripped to solitary pastures new. But the same quality that sustains +the secluded farmer and his household in the hills supported the timid +tiller of the first garden as the sword flamed behind him over the +closing gate of Eden. If Adam plained that Eve had lost him Paradise, +does not every son of Adam own that she has regained it for him? + +The watchful traveller in city cars, or wherever his fate may guide, +is not struck by the discourtesy of the gentler sex. The observable +phenomenon in city transit is the resolute, aggressive, conscious +selfishness of man hiding behind a newspaper, with an air of +unconsciousness designed to deceive, or brazening it out with an +uneasy aspect of defending his rights. This is the spectacle, and not +a supercilious assumption on the part of the shop-girl. Her courteous +refusal to take a seat, or courteous acceptance of it, is more +familiar than the courteous proffer. + +Cato the younger suggests that it is a wrong that seats should not be +provided, and holds that the company should be compelled to furnish +the accommodation for which it is paid. It is a Daniel come to +judgment, but how shall it be done? Shall men keep their seats until, +by sheer shame, and in deference to indignant public protest, the +company does its duty? But would the shame and indignation be due to +the consciousness that the accommodation paid for was not provided? +Would they not arise rather from the consciousness of the peculiar +wrong that the gentler sex should be so incommoded? And, if so, while +the incommodation lasts, what but the selfishness of men devolves it +upon women! But if men should agree to surrender their seats that +women should be first accommodated, is there any doubt that the wrong +would be speedily righted? And to what would this be due but to the +fact that the selfishness of men would insist upon the comfort of +which, while the incommodation lasts, they deprive women? + +Indeed, if all men in crowded cars should resolutely keep all women +standing, the wrong would not be righted, because women would submit +with unselfish patience, and because corporations have no souls. The +better plan, therefore, is that all men shall refuse to see a woman +stand, because if men are really discomforted by their own courtesy +they will compel redress. + +In a world turned topsy-turvy, where Cordelia and Isabella and Juliet +were mannerless, the other sex might be eulogized by distinction as +mannerly. But in this world is the gentle Bayard as truly the type of +the average man as Jeanie Deans of the average woman? + + + + +ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE. + + +It is more than forty years since Margaret Fuller first gave +distinction to the literary notices and reviews of the New York +_Tribune_. Miss Fuller was a woman of extraordinary scholarly +attainments and intellectual independence, the friend of Emerson and +of the "transcendental" leaders, and her critical papers were the best +then published, and were fitly succeeded by those of her scholarly +friend, George Ripley. It was her review in the _Tribune_ of +Browning's early dramas and the "Bells and Pomegranates" that +introduced him to such general knowledge and appreciation among +cultivated readers in this country that it is not less true of +Browning than of Carlyle that he was first better known in America +than at home. + +It was but about four years before the publication of Miss Fuller's +paper that the Boston issue of Tennyson's two volumes had delighted +the youth of the time with the consciousness of the appearance of a +new English poet. The eagerness and enthusiasm with which Browning was +welcomed soon after were more limited in extent, but they were even +more ardent, and the devoted zeal of Mr. Levi Thaxter as a Browning +missionary and pioneer forecast the interest from which the Browning +societies of later days have sprung. When Matthew Arnold was told in a +small and remote farming village in New England that there had been a +lecture upon Browning in the town the week before, he stopped in +amazement, and said, "Well, that is the most surprising and +significant fact I have heard in America." + +It was in those early days of Browning's fame, and in the studio of +the sculptor Powers, in Florence, that the youthful Easy Chair took up +a visiting-card, and, reading the name Mr. Robert Browning, asked, +with eager earnestness, whether it was Browning the poet. Powers +turned his large, calm, lustrous eyes upon the youth, and answered, +with some surprise at the warmth of the question: + +"It is a young Englishman, recently married, who is here with his +wife, an invalid. He often comes to the studio." + +"Good Heaven!" exclaimed the youth, "it must be Browning and Elizabeth +Barrett." + +Powers, with the half-bewildered air of one suddenly made conscious +that he had been entertaining angels unawares, said, reflectively, "I +think we must have them to tea." + +The youth begged to take the card which bore the poet's address, and, +hastening to his room near the Piazza Novella, he wrote a note asking +permission for a young American to call and pay his respects to Mr. +and Mrs. Browning, but wrote it in terms which, however warm, would +yet permit it to be put aside if it seemed impertinent, or if, for any +reason, such a call were not desired. The next morning betimes the +note was despatched, and a half-hour had not passed when there was a +brisk rap at the Easy Chair's door. He opened it, and saw a young man, +who briskly inquired, + +"Is Mr. Easy Chair here?" + +"That is my name." + +"I am Robert Browning." + +Browning shook hands heartily with his young American admirer, and +thanked him for his note. The poet was then about thirty-five. His +figure was not large, but compact, erect, and active; the face smooth, +the hair dark; the aspect that of active intelligence, and of a man of +the world. He was in no way eccentric, either in manner or appearance. +He talked freely, with great vivacity, and delightfully, rising and +walking about the room as his talk sparkled on. He heard, with evident +pleasure, but with entire simplicity and manliness, of the American +interest in his works and in those of Mrs. Browning, and the Easy +Chair gave him a copy of Miss Fuller's paper in the _Tribune_. + +It was a bright and, to the Easy Chair, a wonderfully happy hour. As +he went, the poet said that Mrs. Browning would certainly expect to +give Mr. Easy Chair a cup of tea in the evening, and with a brisk and +gay good-bye, Browning was gone. + +The Easy Chair blithely hied him to the Cafe Done, and ordered of the +flower-girl the most perfect of nosegays, with such fervor that she +smiled, and when she brought the flowers in the afternoon, said, with +sympathy and meaning: "Eccola, signore! per la donna bellissima!" + +It was not in the Casa Guidi that the Brownings were then living, but +in an apartment in the Via della Scala, not far from the place or +square most familiar to strangers in Florence--the Piazza Trinita. +Through several rooms the Easy Chair passed, Browning leading the way, +until at the end they entered a smaller room arranged with an air of +English comfort, where, at a table, bending over a tea-urn, sat a +slight lady, her long curls drooping forward. "Here," said Browning, +addressing her with a tender diminutive--"here is Mr. Easy Chair." +And, as the bright eyes but wan face of the lady turned towards him, +and she put out her hand, Mr. Easy Chair recalled the first words of +her verse he had ever known: + + "'Onora, Onora!' her mother is calling, + She sits at the lattice, and hears the dew falling, + Drop after drop from the sycamore laden + With dew as with blossom, and calls home the maiden. + 'Night cometh, Onora!'" + +The most kindly welcome and pleasant chat followed, Browning's gayety +dashing and flashing in, with a sense of profuse and bubbling +vitality, glancing at a hundred topics; and when there was some +allusion to his "Sordello," he asked, quickly, with an amused smile, +"Have you read it?" The Easy Chair pleaded that he had not seen it. +"So much the better. Nobody understands it. Don't read it, except in +the revised form, which is coming." The revised form has come long +ago, and the Easy Chair has read, and probably supposes that he +understands. But Thackeray used to say that he did not read Browning +because he could not comprehend him, adding, ruefully, "I have no head +above my eyes." + +A few days later-- + + "O gift of God! O perfect day!"-- + +the Easy Chair went with Mr. and Mrs. Browning to Vallombrosa, and the +one incident most clearly remembered is that of Browning's seating +himself at the organ in the chapel, and playing--some Gregorian chant, +perhaps, or hymn of Pergolesi's. It was enough to the enchanted eyes +of his young companion that they saw him who was already a great +English poet sitting at the organ where the young Milton had sat, and +touching the very keys which Milton's hand had pressed. + +It was midsummer in Italy, but the high, narrow streets of Florence +hold a protecting shade over the lingering pilgrim, and from such +companionship as that of the Via della Scala even Venice long wooed in +vain. But at last, reluctantly, although the fascinating way lay +through Bologna and Ferrara, the journey began towards Venice; and in +that city, so early and always dear to Browning, whose romantic life +and story most deeply touched and stirred his imagination, and in +which he lately died, the Easy Chair received from the poet a glimpse +of his earliest impressions. + +Writing from Casa Guidi, in Florence, on the 9th of August, 1847--Casa +Guidi, upon which a tablet records that there Elizabeth Barrett and +Robert Browning lived, and "Casa Guidi Windows," "Sonnets from the +Portuguese," and "Aurora Leigh" were written--Browning says: + +"The people of the house there [Via della Scala] told us honestly + on the morning of your departure that they could only receive us + for a single month, at the expiration of which were to begin + certain whitewashings and repaintings. We continued our quest, + therefore, and at last found out this cool, airy apartment, + which we shall occupy for another month or six weeks, whatever + be our subsequent plans, for Rome, or for the Venice you + describe.... + + "I spent a month of entire delight there some eight years ago, + and tho' nothing I have since seen has effaced the impressions + of my visit, yet your fresher feelings _bring out_ whatever + looks faint or dubious in them, as a gentle sponging might + revive the gone glory of some old picture. (You must know I + have seen an exquisite copy of a Giorgione, the original of + which--so I was told--grew only visible and intelligible when + thus wetted.) I am glad the railroad and gas-lighting do Venice + no more wrong, and that you find all the old strange quietness, + and--ought I to be glad of this, too?--depopulation; for of + late years we have heard a great deal of the returning life and + prosperity of the place; and Mr. Valery, I observe, retracts + his earlier bodements of a speedy extinction of what little + glimmer of light he still saw. + + "As for me, I remember that the accounts of the depreciation of + the value of houses, coupled with the indifference of the + inhabitants of them, were enough to set one dreaming (in one's + gondola!) of getting to be as rich as Rothschild, buying all + Venice, turning out everybody, and ensconcing one's self in the + Doge's palace, among the dropping gold ornaments and flakes of + what was lustrous color in Titian's or Tintoret's time, waiting + for the proper consummation of all things and the sea's advent. + + "But do you really find the air so light and pure in this by + right mephitic time of August, with those close _calles_, + pestilential lagunes, etc., etc., and all that our informants + frighten us with? Should a winter in Venice prove no more + formidable in its way than it seems a summer does, why, we may + have cause to regret our determination to give up our original + plans. I am sure your kindness will tell us, should it be + enabled, any good news of the winter and spring climate--if + weak lungs may brave it with impunity.".... + +To this letter of Browning's, written in his young manhood--he was +then thirty-five--about the Venice which always charmed him, may be +well added the words of the Lady of Mura, written only a few weeks +before the poet's death. Asolo is a sequestered town, which Browning +said that he discovered, and in which he fell under the glamour of +very Italy. In the prologue to his last volume, written in September +before the letter that follows, the poet says: + + "How many a year, my Asolo, + Since--one step just from sea to land-- + I found you, loved, yet feared you so-- + For natural objects seemed to stand + Palpably fire-clothed!" + +The letter says: + + "I have bought in ancient Asolo a narrow, tall tower, into which + in the last century (very early) a house was built, and this + curious place I have selected for villeggiatura when the + scirocco is too strong in Venice for health or comfort. It was + here that Browning fifty years ago was inspired to write + 'Sordello' and 'Pippa Passes,' so to me it has that charm added + to many others. It is such a rough and out-of-the-way little + place that you may only know it by name. There is no hotel, no + railway, no factory, no sign of modern civilization. It is on a + hill, which has an ancient ruined fortress at the top, and was + an old Roman settlement, with the usual Roman _mise en scene_, + baths, amphitheatre, etc., in the days of Pliny, who somewhere + mentions it. + + "Near my tower, which is built in the ancient wall of the + mediaeval town, is the tower of Caterina Cornaro, and one sees + from most of my windows, so high are they, the whole Marca + Trevigiana, with its tragic and dramatic associations of the + early Middle Ages; the Eccelini, the Azzi, the incessant wars + in which towns were treated by the tyrants like shuttlecocks in + the game of battledoor. + + "Browning and his sister have been here for the last six weeks, + and you may fancy how intensely the poet enjoys revisiting + after so many years the scenes of his youthful inspirations. He + was only twenty-five or six when he first discovered Asolo.... + Few young people are so gay and cheerful as he and his dear old + sister.".... + +It is a pleasant last glimpse of Browning at Asolo, where the +master-spell of Italy first touched his genius, and whither at the end +he came--"_asolare_, to disport in the open air, amuse one's self at +random"--at heart and in temper of the same unquenched and +unquenchable vitality as on that summer day long ago when he sat where +Milton had sat, and pressed, as Milton had pressed, the keys of the +organ at Vallombrosa. + + "Ah, did you once see Shelley plain? + And did he stop and speak to you? + And did you speak to him again?-- + How strange it seems and new!" + + + + +PLAYERS. + + +It is no wonder that Longfellow wrote a sonnet to Mrs. Fanny Kemble +upon her Readings. Those evenings were indeed "happy," and "too +swiftly sped." Mrs. Kemble's ample person draped in gold-colored silk, +her flowing black hair folded and braided in some large style about +her head, her rich and low and exquisitely modulated voice, her +queenly presence, her magnificence of self-possession--all this +fascinating personality made her reading memorable, and like a torch +which reveals the perfect detail of great sculpture or architecture, +her genius gave the whole value to every character and scene of the +play. Did Whitfield pronounce the word Mesopotamia like a wind harp +sighing exquisite music? So Mrs. Kemble's recitation of the soliloquy +of Jaques left one line in the recollection of one hearer, which, like +an enchanted fruit, is constantly renewing its freshness and flavor. +It is one of the most familiar lines in Shakespeare, + + "All the world's a stage, + And all the men and women merely players." + +The Easy Chair was introduced to Mr. John Gilbert not very long before +the death of that delightful actor. It was in the morning, and Mr. +Gilbert was dressed with gentlemanly simplicity and propriety. But as +he bowed courteously the good player seemed to have stepped aside for +a moment from his real life, and to be not quite at ease when saluted +by his own name rather than by that of Sir Peter, or Squire +Hardcastle, or Sir Anthony Absolute. Methought, as the sages of the +theatre say, that the stage was a more natural life to him. He knew +the part of his own personality less familiarly than some other parts. +The modest gentleman seemed half anxious to escape, as if he were +caught in an undress, and pined for the security of the embroidered +coat of a character. + +Let us stop for a moment to say how fine he was in that embroidered +coat. It is hard to conceive that Mr. Gilbert can have any adequate +successor in his own parts. He created the standard, and when living +memory can no longer measure the comparative excellence of other +performances of them, they will be tested by the traditions of +Gilbert. The plain good-breeding of his Hardcastle had a rustic +quality, or flavor, rather, which was delicately discriminated from +the courtly refinement of his Sir Peter. There was the essential +gentleman in both, but it was the country gentleman in one and the +city gentleman in the other. The touch of chuckling senility in +Hardcastle's pleasure with Diggory's enjoyment of his stories, and the +uxorious fondness of Sir Peter, are both of a kind, but they are not +the same, and you feel the difference. Neither of these characters can +be dissociated from Gilbert by those who have seen him in them, and to +know that they will not be seen again under the same conditions and +support is to be conscious of a public loss. + +Mr. Gilbert was a professional player. But since Mrs. Kemble's voice +not only pronounced the words describing us all as players, but +suggested to that hearer the various significance of the words, how +the universality of the truth becomes more and more apparent! In all +the great interests of life--religion, politics, business--we have our +exits and our entrances, and, in this, unlike Gilbert, we show +ourselves to each other not as the men we are, but as players. Here is +Sylvanus, for instance, who may stand for us all, most amiable of men +if you could happen upon him in some happy undress moment. But they +are few. The poor fellow is cast for many parts, and he plays with +little intermission. + +One of his characters is the politician. He depicts a furious +partisan, and is so lost in his part that while the man Sylvanus +speaks the truth and desires it, yet in his character of politician it +is not truth or fair play that he wants, but whatever tends to advance +and aggrandize his party. He carefully depreciates those with whom he +does not agree. He cultivates distrust of every word spoken and every +deed done by the other party. Personally he likes many of his +opponents. His personal relations show that he does not really think +them the rascals and impostors and traitors that in his part of +politician he declares them to be. It seems often to a dispassionate +observer that when he accuses them as politicians of lying, cheating, +and stealing, he estimates them by his knowledge of himself as a +politician. He supposes that they would not hesitate to do what, +without compunction, he does himself. They are all players together, +and this is a kind of stage rant designed to impress the groundlings, +who, after all, compose the larger part of the audience. + +Sylvanus also plays the part of a religious sectary. As a private +person he enjoys greatly the wit and intelligence and stored +experience of life which distinguish his neighbor Eugenius. The purity +and elevation of his neighbor brighten the days on which they meet, +and he is always a better and a wiser man when they part. But these +are his off hours, his moments of vacation. He appears on the stage as +a sectary, and plays his part with resolute energy. This part again is +that of a man not pursuing truth, but so occupied with maintaining his +own conception of truth that he has no time to test it. It is a comedy +of great humor, because Sylvanus, as a sectary, stands against all +comers to protect a spring of deep and clear water, and is so +engrossed in guarding the sacred wave from the least pollution that he +does not find time to remark that it is not a spring at all, but a dry +sand-pit. + +In the incessant playing of all these parts to which his life and +powers are chiefly devoted the charming personality of Sylvanus is +quite lost. The man himself, divested of the stage costume and the +text of his parts, is almost unknown. Others could play the politician +or the sectary or the trader, but nobody could play Sylvanus. He is a +modest, intelligent man, who knows that nobody can pre-empt truth or +honesty or urbanity; that good men do not become bad by holding views +which he may think to be wrong; and that his friends may be deceived +as readily as the friends of others. These things, which he recognizes +as the merest commonplaces when he is off the stage, he derides as +utter nonsense when he is in the midst of a representation. Then, in +the most vehement way, which is the stage tradition of the part, he +shouts that everybody who would do well must run to his side, as if we +were all passengers on a ship which is capsizing, but would be righted +if everybody on board lost his own balance. + +It is because even such men as Sylvanus take to the stage that +Shakespeare, "sitting pensive and alone, above the hundred-handed play +of his imagination," calls all men and women merely players. Like John +Gilbert, although we do not play characters so amusing and harmless as +his upon the stage, when we are not on it we seem to be a little lost, +and secretly crave the theatre. It is remarked that when actors have +an off night they go and sit in front at the play. + +A charming comedy often arises from forgetfulness of the fact that a +play is a play, and not real. One of the finest and not unfamiliar +strokes of comedy in this kind is that of a seasoned veteran in the +part of a politician who turns upon another veteran with whom he +differs upon a question of expediency, and striking an attitude, with +an air and tone worthy of the great Folair himself, or Mr. Crummies in +his loftier moments, exclaims, "Apostate!" It is conceded that there +has been nothing finer on the stage since Dick Turpin pointed his +finger at Jonnathan Wild and sneered, impressively, "Thief!" + +It is well for the peace of mind of the nervously disposed to remember +that if we are all merely players, we must not take the play too +seriously. A play is a simulation for entertainment, and as we look at +Sylvanus and our other friends playing the politician or the sectary, +we must constantly bear in mind that it is a play, and only a play. If +we really thought he came hither as a man and not a sectary, for +instance, it were pity of our life. If the part is played too really, +let Sylvanus heed an earlier wisdom. "Let him name his name, and tell +them plainly he is Snug, the joiner." + + + + +UNMUSICAL BOXES. + + +It was a sage of the gentler sex who, after many years of experience, +remarked that "men are queer!" That they are so in a positive sense no +shrewd observer of mankind would deny, but that they are so +comparatively or absolutely would be a very hardy assertion. If the +queen of the household is of opinion that her associate majesty is +very queer because he enjoys a torrid height of the mercury in the +drawing-room, he holds probably a similar view of her fondness in the +dining-room for what he describes as burnt beef. A hopeless bachelor +who prided himself upon what he defiantly called his freedom, used to +say, with an air of commiseration and extreme caution, that he +supposed his married friends were probably what they called happy. But +he added that he never knew any of the happy pairs to agree upon the +proper warmth of a room, or the true turn of a roast, or the just +amount of fresh air. Still, he said, demurely, I do not assert that +their matrimonial felicity was not great. + +But the axiom of the sage of the better sex, that men are queer, has +been strongly confirmed by a recent decision of the authorities of the +Metropolitan Opera-house in New York. That important body, producing +the figures, has announced in effect that as it is clear from the +accounts that the presentation of German opera is more profitable than +that of Italian and French opera combined, it is evident that the +public desires to hear Italian and French opera, and therefore for the +present the German opera will be discontinued. This is certainly +delightful proof that men are queer, and that one respected group of +them by a signal display of queerness are anxious to contribute to the +gayety of nations. It is a striking illustration of the superiority of +man to money, and in the mad struggle for a mere material advantage, +this devotion to pure art, condemning the expense, is a noble tribute +to the unselfishness of human nature. + +Another view has been advanced which is also interesting to the +student of mankind. It is put in this way, that if the cost of the +Italian and French opera should be a hundred thousand dollars in a +season more than that of the German, yet it will be gladly paid by +those denizens of boxes who have an insatiable desire to proceed with +their intellectual cultivation by audible conversation during the +performance. The argument is that these devotees of the intellect hold +that nothing is lost by not hearing the Italian and French music, and +that the evening can be much more profitably devoted to the +stimulating conversation which takes place in an opera box. + +Still another view is even more honorable to the boxes, while it does +not depreciate the performance. This view holds that the operatic +situation offers a choice of delights, an embarrassment of riches. + +Charming and elevating as the music may be, yet still more lofty and +inspiring is the conversation, and the boxes are therefore compelled +to an alternative, and very naturally and properly choose their own +talk to the music. The decision of the authorities may be consequently +held to be designed to secure a continuation of conversation in the +boxes upon the lowest terms of loss. + +This cannot but be regarded by a judicious public as a wise +conclusion. It is, of course, desirable that the wit and wisdom of the +box chat should continue, but at the least sacrifice; and the least +sacrifice seems to be considered the Italian and French opera together +with a certain sum of money. Upon these lowest terms every friend of +humanity will be glad to know that the colloquial delights of the +boxes will be perpetuated. It is even hinted also that there will be +no disposition in an unmannerly parquet to hiss the interruption of +Italian and French opera. If the boxes think fit upon intellectual +grounds to accompany the dying falls of French and Italian strains +with a cheerful murmur of talk, the parquet will acquiesce without a +sense of loss, if, indeed, upon such occasions there should be any +parquet remaining. + +The noble sacrifice of those public benefactors, the unmusical boxes, +is still more strikingly illustrated by the fact that the Italian +opera droops in other operatic countries as with us, and that not only +in England, which has been the El Dorado of the artists of the +Southern school, but in Italy itself, the opera of Italy has declined. +The truth probably is that for some time in all musically cultivated +countries Italian opera, which was a traditional fashion, was largely +maintained as a social opportunity under conditions which most favored +personal display and made the least intellectual demand. It supplied +also to the society in the boxes at the San Carlo, the Pergola, the +Scala, the Italiens, and Her Majesty's, the entertainment, in the +persons of famous prima-donnas, of an extraordinary vocal performance. + +The charm of that performance was undeniable. The rippling and +glittering gayety of Rossini, the sweet and tender melody of Bellini, +the sparkle of Auber, the romantic pathos of Donizetti, the brilliant +melodramatic strain of Verdi--none who have felt the spell will deny +the enchantment. But _tempora mutantur_; one age with its spirit and +taste succeeds another. A deeper, stronger, more earnest taste in +music, a higher general cultivation, another theory of opera, have +come into the house and seated themselves in the parquet, and look +askance at the boxes as the Quartier St. Antoine looked upon the +Faubourg St. Germain. The boxes, with the innocent ignorance of the +_oeil-de-boeuf_, propose to maintain the old order, to stand by +Bellini and Donizetti and the last half-century. It is touching and +interesting. _Vive l'opera italienne! Vivent les loges!_ So Marie +Antoinette appeared in the balcony of the banqueting hall at +Versailles, and so the _garde du roi_ sprang to its feet with gallant +enthusiasm, rattling its sabres and pledging the Queen. It is a heroic +story, a romantic tradition.--And the Queen? And the _garde du roi_? + +The authorities of the opera invite the city to an interesting +entertainment. Nothing has seemed more natural than the precedence of +German opera at a time in which the German musical genius and +cultivation are dominant, and in a city in which the German audience +abounds. And now, for our pleasure, Sisyphus will take a turn at the +stone, and the lovely Danaides of the boxes, in the shining garments +of Worth, with soft disdain of difficulty, will essay with sieves of +the finest texture to bale out the ocean. + + + + +THE DINNER IN ARCADIA. + + +The Easy Chair went up lately to the hills to enjoy the annual dinner +at Arcadia. It is a summer feast which tradition assigns to some old +academy in those parts, supposed to have been founded by a pastor of +the village in the days before railroads, when there was no path to +Arcadia except that which is still sometimes pursued. It is a winding +sylvan way through woods and by singing streams and solitary farms, +and as you drive slowly on you feel yourself penetrating farther and +farther into a rural seclusion to which the modern world has hardly +found its way, and where you might expect to surprise a peaceful +community of ancient New England, as in threading the remoter recesses +and heights of the Catskill you might come upon a party of Hendrik +Hudson's crew. + +In this loneliness of the hills the young pastor, who was in delicate +health and unmarried, relieved the sombre severity of clerical life by +teaching a few boys and girls. By that fond indirection he brightened +with fresh air and natural music and sunshine the dry routine of his +unmated days. For the cheerless solemnity of the life of the country +clergy in those times it is hard to imagine. The missionaries to East +London tell us that the peculiar characteristic of that vast region, +swarming with human beings, is want of entertainment. The people there +do not laugh. They have no diversion. There is nothing pleasant to see +or to hear. It is a huge stone mill in which human life is ground up +in an endless and barren monotony of hard work. + +It is odd to trace any resemblance to it in a life so different; but +the old-fashioned Calvinistic divine in his small country parish, +revolving in an actual world of petty details, and in another world of +grim theological speculation and absorption in the contemplation of +death, must have seldom smiled. The young pastor was bound by no vow +of celibacy, but he knew that his life must be brief, and he gladly +surrounded himself with children in the guise of pupils, and when he +died he left a Bible to his church, a small sum for the education of +heathen youth in America, some manuscript sermons to his parents, and +the rest of his little property to found an academy for godly youth. + +This at least is the tradition. But when Silvertongue came once to the +dinner he put the story aside airily as a pleasant fiction, and +averred that the annual feast was instituted simply to glorify two +legendary friends of the town and enjoy them forever. This had a sound +that contrasted not inaptly with the seriousness of the hills, and +suggested an origin not unlike that of the feasts in the Lacedemonian +worship of the Dioscuri. Still another theory which is like to grow +with time associates it with the memory of two strangers of benignant +aspect, who appeared suddenly in the village like the gray-haired +regicide at Hadley, and aiding the towns-people not with a sword, but +with a bounty, departed. They are all pleasant tales. But the earliest +tradition is likely to be the truest. It was the good pastor who sowed +the modest seed which has now sprung up a hundred-fold. + +This year the text of the afternoon, for the dinner begins at one +o'clock, was the report of the census that the town is declining in +population. The guests were a company of the people of the hills. They +came from a circuit of a score of miles. The dinner is served cold, +and the guests feast + + "In summer, when the days are long, + On dainty chicken, snow-white bread," + +and by two o'clock the blue gauze is spread over the remnants, the +benches are turned so that the whole company faces the speakers, and +then speech begins. + +It was the verdict of the hills upon the report of the census that if +the number of individuals is decreasing, the number of families is +not. The ancient quiverfuls are disappearing, and the tale of children +in a family is diminishing. But the general welfare of the family +itself is increasing, while the marvellous facilities of communication +bring all resources into the hills, and the remote little village of +the old pastor is practically becoming a suburb. + +If a higher general welfare prevails, what matter if the population +somewhat declines? Quality is better than quantity. If, as a Senator +of Massachusetts says, the people of the hills are merely descending +into the valleys, who can complain if they bring with them the simple +and hardy virtues which grow upon the hills like the great +agricultural staples? Let the census say what it will, statistics need +not frighten until they show a decadence of character as well as a +decline of population. If, however, character is decaying, if the +primary conditions of that fundamental life of the country are +changing, a general change may be anticipated. But in Arcadia those +signs do not yet appear. Whether there are more or fewer persons than +there were fifty years ago, the comfort, the resources, the +opportunities are constantly greater. Undoubtedly they bring their +dangers and disadvantages. But the same steady force of character that +dealt with the old difficulties can deal with the new. + +Perhaps the trouble lies less in the depletion of the hills than in +the surfeit of the shore. The dragon of the glittering scales that +threatens American youth and maidens may be rather Sybaris by the sea +than Arcadia on the hills. It may be also rather the annual +half-million of utter aliens that come from other lands, strange to us +in everything that fosters a homogeneous national life, rather than +the hundreds who come down morally as well as numerically from the +uplands nearer heaven. + +So in the larger academy which the young pastor unconsciously founded +the various voices of suggestion, experience, and reflection spoke. It +was a rural feast, an Arcadian holiday, such as the Swedish poet +Tegner might have sketched in simple and melodious measure, or Grecian +artists carved upon a frieze. + +Then in the late and beautiful afternoon, and later in the light of +the full moon, the guests dispersed, weaving the fragmentary hints of +speech into completer views and purposes of patriotic life, as the +children of the fairies wove the scattered shreds of gold into shining +garments. Slowly over the hills by every bowery road, towards loftier +Goshen and Hawley, and higher Chesterfield, and Plainfield where +Byrant sang to the Water-fowl, down winding ways to Buckland and +Charlemont and Zoar, eastward to Conway and Deerfield and remoter +Sunderland, and all the wide valley of the Connecticut, the pilgrims +wended homeward. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From the Easy Chair, vol. 1 +by George William Curtis + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + +This file should be named easch10.txt or easch10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, easch11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, easch10a.txt + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/easch10.zip b/old/easch10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..970cf44 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/easch10.zip diff --git a/old/easch10h.htm b/old/easch10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6011bf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/easch10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5122 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of From the Easy Chair, by George William Curtis</title> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; background-color: white} +img {border: 0;} +h1,h2,h3 {text-align: center;} +.ind {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} +hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} +.ctr {text-align: center;} +--> +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's From the Easy Chair, vol. 1, by George William Curtis +#3 in our series by George William Curtis +[See also etext #7445 for more "Easy Chair" stories] + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: From the Easy Chair, vol. 1 + +Author: George William Curtis + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7475] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 7, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="ec001.jpg">Portrait of the author</a> +</p> + +<h1>FROM THE EASY CHAIR</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS</h2> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<p class="ctr"> +"I shall from Time to Time Report and Consider all Matters of what +Kind Soever that shall occur to Me." --THE TATLER. +</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#i">EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#ii">AT THE OPERA IN 1864</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#iii">EMERSON LECTURING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#iv">SHOPS AND SHOPPING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#v">MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#vi">DICKENS READING [1867]</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#vii">PHILLIS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#viii">THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#ix">HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#x">THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS [1871]</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xi">URBS AND RUS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xii">RIP VAN WINKLE</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xiii">A CHINESE CRITIC</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xiv">HOLIDAY SAUNTERING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xv">WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD [1881]</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xvi">EASTER BONNETS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xvii">JENNY LIND</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xviii">THE TOWN</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xix">SARAH SHAW RUSSELL</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xx">STREET MUSIC</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxi">A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxii">CECILIA PLAYING</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxiii">THE MANNERLESS SEX</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxiv">ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxv">PLAYERS</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxvi">UNMUSICAL BOXES</a> +</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<a href="#xxvii">THE ACADEMY DINNER IN ARCADIA</a> +</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2><a name="i">EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862.</a></h2> + +<p> +The house was full, and murmurous with the pleasant chat and rustling +movement of well-dressed persons of both sexes who waited patiently +the coming of the orator, looking at the expanse of stage, which was +carpeted, and covered with rows of settees that went backward from the +footlights to a landscape of charming freshness of color, that might +have been set for the "Maid of Milan" or the pastoral opera. Between +the seats and the foot-lights was a broad space, upon which stood a +small table and two or three chairs; and if the orator of the evening, +like a <i>primo tenore</i>, had been surveying the house through the +friendly chinks of the pastoral landscape, he would have felt a warm +suffusion of pleasure that his name should be the magic spell to +summon an audience so fair, so numerous, and so intelligent. +</p> + +<p> +There were ushers who showed ladies to seats, and with their +dress-coats and bright badges looked like a milder Metropolitan +police. But no greater force was presumed to be required of them than +pressing aside a too discursive crinoline. In the soft, ample light, +as the audience sat with fluttering ribbons and bright gems and +splendid silks and shawls, so tranquilly expectant, so calmly smiling, +so shyly blushing (if, haply, in all that crowd there were a pair of +lovers!), it was hard to believe that civil war was wasting the land, +and that at the very moment some of those glad hearts were broken--but +would not know it until the sad news came. Yet it was easy, in the +same glance, to feel that even the terrible shape that we thought we +had eluded forever did not seem, after all, so terrible; that even +civil war might be shaking the gates and the guests still smile in the +chambers. +</p> + +<p> +But while leaning against the wall, under the balcony, the Easy Chair +looks around upon the humming throng and thinks of camps far away, and +beating drums and wild alarms and sweeping squadrons of battle, there +is a sudden hush and a simultaneous glance towards one side of the +house, and there, behind the seats at the side, and making for the +stage door, marches a procession, two and two, very solemn, very bald, +very gray, and in evening dress. They are the invited guests, the +honored citizens of Brooklyn, the reverend clergy, and others; a body +of substantial, intelligent, decorous persons. They disappear for a +moment within the door, and immediately emerge upon the stage with a +composed bustle, moving the seats, taking off their coats, sedately +interchanging little jests, and finally seating themselves, and gazing +at the audience evidently with a feeling of doubt whether the honor of +the position compensates for its great disadvantage; for to sit behind +an orator is to hear, without seeing, an actor. +</p> + +<p> +The audience is now waiting, both upon the stage and in the boxes, +with patient expectation. There is little talking, but a tension of +heads towards the stage. The last word is spoken there, the last joke +expires; all attention is concentrated upon an expected object. The +edge of eagerness is not suffered to turn, but precisely at the right +moment a figure with a dark head and another with a gray head are seen +at the depth of the stage, advancing through the aisle towards the +foot-lights and the audience. They are the president of the society +and the orator. The audience applauds. It is not a burst of +enthusiasm; it is rather applausive appreciation of acknowledged +merit. The gray-headed orator bows gravely and slightly, lays a roll +of MS. upon the table, then he and the president seat themselves side +by side. For a moment they converse, evidently complimenting the +brilliant audience. The orator, also, evidently says that the table is +right, that the light is right, that the glass of water is right, and +finally that he is ready. +</p> + +<p> +In a few neat words "the honored son of Massachusetts" is introduced, +and he rises and moves a few steps forward. Standing for a moment, he +bows to the applause. He is dressed entirely in black; wearing a +dress-coat, and not a frock. Before he says a word, although it is but +a moment, a sudden flash of memory reveals to the attentive Easy Chair +all that he has heard and read of the orator before him; how he +returned an accomplished scholar from Germany, graced with a delicacy +of culture hitherto unknown to our schools; how the youthful professor +of Greek at Harvard, transferred to the pulpit of Brattle Street, in +Boston, held men and women in thrall by the splendor of his rhetoric +and the pleading music of his voice, drawing the young scholars after +him, who are now our chief glory and pride; how his Phi Beta Kappa +oration in 1824 and its apostrophe to Lafayette, who was present, is +still the fond tradition of those who heard it; and how as he passed +on from triumph to triumph in his art of oratory, the elegance, the +skill, the floridity, the elaboration, the unfailing fitness and +severe propriety of his art, with all its minor gifts, consoled Boston +that it was not Athens or Rome, and had not heard Demosthenes or +Cicero. +</p> + +<p> +If you ventured curiously to question this fond recollection, to ask +whether the eloquence was of the heart and soul, or of the mind and +lips; whether it were impassioned oratory, burning, resistless, such +as we suppose Demosthenes and Patrick Henry poured out; or whether it +were polished and skilful declamation--those old listeners were like +lovers. They did not know; they did not care. They remembered the +magic tone, the witchery of grace, the exuberant rhetoric; they +recalled the crowds clustering at his feet, the gusts of emotion that +in the church swept over the pews, the thrills of delight that in the +hall shook the audience; their own youth was part of it; they saw +their own bloom in the flower they remembered, and they could not +criticise or compare. +</p> + +<p> +All this recollection flashed through the mind of the Easy Chair +before the orator had well opened his lips. The tradition was +overpowering. It was not fair, but it was inevitable. If we could see +and hear Patrick Henry, with uplifted finger, shouting, "Charles First +had his Cromwell, and George Third--may take warning by his example!" +would it be, could it be, even with all our expectation, what we +believe it to have been? After the tremendous blare of trumpets in +advance that shake our very souls within us, no ordinary mortal can +satisfy the transcendent anticipation. We lift the leathern curtain of +St. Peter's, and catching our breath, look in. Alas! we see plainly +the other end of the great church, but with secret disappointment, +because we imagined there would be but a dim immensity of space. For +the first time we behold Niagara, and resentfully we ask, "Is that +all?" The illimitable expectation is too bewildering an overture. So +the eyes with which the Easy Chair saw were touched with glamour. The +ears with which it heard were full of eloquence beyond that of mortal +lips. And there was the orator just beginning to speak. It was not +fair; no, it was not fair. +</p> + +<p> +The first words were clearly cut, simply and perfectly articulated. +"It is often said that the day for speaking has passed, and that of +action has arrived." It was a direct, plain introduction; not a florid +exordium. The voice was clear and cold and distinct; not especially +musical, not at all magnetic. The orator was incessantly moving; not +rushing vehemently forward or stepping defiantly backward, with that +quaint planting of the foot, like Beecher; but restlessly changing his +place, with smooth and rounded but monotonous movement. The arms and +hands moved harmonious with the body, not with especial reference to +what was said, but apparently because there must be action. The first +part of the discourse was strictly a lucid narrative of events and +causes: a compact and calm chapter of our political history by a man +as well versed in it as any man in the country; and it culminated in a +description of the fall of Sumter. This was an elaborate picture in +words of a perfectly neutral tint. There was not a single one which +was peculiarly picturesque or vivid; no electric phrase that sent the +whole striking scene shuddering home to every hearer; no sudden light +of burning epithet, no sad elegiac music. The passage was purely +academic. Each word was choice; each detail was finished; it was +properly cumulative to its climax; and when that was reached, loud +applause followed. It was general, but not enthusiastic. No one could +fail to admire the skill with which the sentence was constructed; and +so elaborate a piece of workmanship justly challenged high praise. But +still--still, do you get any thrill from the most perfect mosaic? +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a caustic and brilliant sketch of the attitude of +Virginia in this war. In this part of his discourse the orator was +himself an historic personage; for it was to him, when editor of the +<i>North American Review</i>, that James Madison wrote his letter +explanatory of the Virginia resolutions of '98. The wit that sparkled +then in the pages of the <i>Review</i> glittered now along the speech. Here +was Junius turned gentleman and transfixing a State with satire. The +action of the orator was unchanged. But, in one passage, after +describing the wrongs wrought by rebels upon the country, he turned, +with upraised hand, to the rows of white-cravated clergymen who sat +behind him, and apostrophized them: "Tell me, ministers of the living +God, may we not without a breach of Christian charity exclaim, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "'Is there not some hidden curse,<br> + Some chosen thunder in the stores of heaven,<br> + Red with uncommon wrath to blast the man<br> + That seeks his greatness in his country's ruin?'" +</p> + +<p> +This passage was uttered with more force than any in the oration. The +orator's hands were clasped and raised; he moved more rapidly across +the stage; the words were spoken with artistic energy, and loudly +applauded. +</p> + +<p> +Thus far the admirable clearness of statement and perfect propriety of +speech, added to the personal prestige which surrounds any man so +distinguished as the orator, had secured a well-bred attention. But +there was not yet that eager, fixed intentness, sensitive to every +tone and shifting humor of the speaker, which shows that he thoroughly +possesses and controls the audience. There was none of that charmed +silence in which the very heart and soul seem to be listening; and at +any moment it would have been easy to go out. +</p> + +<p> +But when leaving the purely historical current the orator struck into +some considerations upon the views of our affairs taken by foreign +nations, the vivacious skill of his treatment excited a more vital +attention. There was a truer interest and a heartier applause. And +when still pressing on, but with unchanged action, he glanced at the +consequences of a successful rebellion, the audience was, for the +first time, really aroused. +</p> + +<p> +Let us suppose, said the orator, that secession is successful, what +has been gained? How are the causes of discontent removed? Will the +malcontents have seceded because of the non-rendition of fugitive +slaves? But how has secession helped it? When, in the happy words of +another, Canada has been brought down to the Potomac, do they think +their fugitives will be restored? No: not if they came to its banks +with the hosts of Pharaoh, and the river ran dry in its bed. +</p> + +<p> +Loud applause here rang through the building. +</p> + +<p> +Or, continued the orator, more vehemently, do they think, in that +case, to carry their slaves into territories now free? No, not if the +Chief-justice of the United States--and here a volley of applause +rattled in, and the orator wiped his forehead--not if the venerable +Chief-justice Taney should live yet a century, and issue a Dred Scott +decision every day of his life. +</p> + +<p> +Here followed the sincerest applause of the whole evening; and the +Easy Chair pinched his neighbor to make sure that all was as it +seemed; that these were words actually spoken, and that the orator was +Edward Everett. +</p> + +<p> +The hour and a half were passed. The peroration was upon the speaker's +tongue, closing with an exhortation to old men and old women, young +men and maidens, each in his kind and degree, to come as the waves +come when navies are stranded--to come as the winds come when forests +are rended--to come with heart and hand, with purse and +knitting-needle, with sword and gun, and fight for the Union. +</p> + +<p> +He bowed: the audience clapped for a moment, then rose and bustled +out. +</p> + +<p> +--It was not fair; no, it was not fair. The Easy Chair did not +find--how could it find?--the charm which those of another day +remembered. The oration was an admirable and elaborate address, full +of instruction and truth and patriotism, the work of a remarkably +accomplished man of great public experience. It was written in the +plainest language, and did not contain an obscure word. It was +delivered with perfect propriety, with the confidence that comes from +the habit of public speaking, and with artistic skill of articulation +and emphasis. As an illustration of memory it was remarkable, for it +was but the second time that the address had been spoken. It occupied +an hour and a half in the delivery, and yet the manuscript lay +unopened upon the table. Only three or four times was there any +hesitation which reminded the hearer that the speaker was repeating +what he had already written. His power in this respect has been often +mentioned. He is understood to have said that, if he reads anything +once, he can repeat it correctly; but if he has written it out, he can +repeat it exactly and always. This unusual facility secures to all his +addresses a completeness and finish which very few orators command. He +can say exactly what he means, and nothing more, being never betrayed +by confusion or sudden emotion to say, as so many speakers say, more +than they really think. +</p> + +<p> +But, on the other hand, it is doubtful whether all that electric +eloquence by which the hearer is caught up as by a whirlwind and swept +onward at the will of the orator, is not now a tradition in the +speeches of the orator. The glow of feeling, the rush of rhetoric, the +fiery burst of passionate power--the overwhelming impulse which makes +senates adjourn and men spring to arms--were they in the orator or in +the fascinated youth of those who remember the sermon in Brattle +Street, the apostrophe to Lafayette? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="ii">AT THE OPERA IN 1864.</a></h2> + +<p> +It was a strange chance that took the Easy Chair, the other evening, +to the opera in the midst of a terrible war. But there was the scene, +exactly as it used to be. There were the bright rows of pretty women +and smiling men; the white and fanciful opera-cloaks; the gay rich +dresses; the floating ribbons; the marvellous <i>chevelures</i>; the +pearl-gray, the dove, and "tan" gloves, holding the jewelled fans and +the beautiful bouquets--the smile, the sparkle, the grace, the superb +and irresistible dandyism that we all know so well in the days of +golden youth--they were all there, and the warm atmosphere was sweet +with the thick odor of heliotrope, the very scent of <i>haute societe</i>. +</p> + +<p> +The house was full: the opera was "Faust," and by one of the exquisite +felicities of the stage, the hero, a mild, ineffective gentleman, sang +his ditties and passionate bursts in Italian, while the poor Gretchen +vowed and rouladed in the German tongue. Certainly nothing is more +comical than the careful gravity with which people of the highest +civilization look at the absurd incongruities of the stage. After the +polyglot love-making, Gretchen goes up steps and enters a house. +Presently she opens a window at which she evidently could not appear +as she does breast high, without having her feet in the cellar. The +Italian Faust rushes, ascends three steps leading to the window, which +could not by any possibility appropriately be found there, and +reclines his head upon the bosom of the fond maid. We all look on and +applaud with "sensation." But ought we not to insist, however, that +ladies in the play shall stand upon the floor, and that the floor in a +stately mansion shall not be two feet below the front door-sill? And +ought we not to demand that Faust shall woo Gretchen in their +mother-tongue? +</p> + +<p> +But we, the ludicrous public, who snarl at the carpenter and shoemaker +if the fitness of things be not observed; we, the shrewd critics, who +pillory the luckless painter who dresses a gentleman of the +Restoration in the ruff of James First's court, gaze calmly on the +most ridiculous anachronisms and impossibilities, and smite our +perfumed gloves in approbation. It is no excuse to say that the whole +thing is absurd; that people do not carry on the business of life in +song, nor expire in recitative. That is true, but even fairy tales +have their consistency. Every part is adapted to every other, and, in +the key, the whole is harmonious. Hermann, for instance, the basso, +who sang Mephistopheles, would have been quite perfect if he had only +remembered this. But he forgot that Mephisto is a sly and subtle +devil. He caricatured him. He made him a buffoon and repulsive. Such +extravagance could not have imposed upon Faust or Martha; yet we all +agreed that it was very fine, and amiably applauded what no opera-goer +of sense could seriously approve. +</p> + +<p> +You think that this is taking syllabub seriously, and that the +circumstances of the time had made the Easy Chair hypercritical. No; +it was only that there comes a time in theatre-going when the boxes +are more interesting than the stage. The mimic life fades before the +real. In the midst of the finest phrases of the impassioned Herr +Faust, what if your truant eyes stray across the parquette and see a +slight, pale figure, and recognize one of the bravest and most daring +Union generals, whose dashing assaults upon the enemy's works carried +dismay and victory day after day? Herr Faust trills on, but you see +the sombre field and the desperate battle and the glorious cause. +Gretchen musically sighs, but you see the brave boys lying where they +fell: you hear the deep, sullen roar of the cannonade; you catch far +away through the tumult of war the fierce shout of victory. And there +sits the slight, pale figure with eyes languidly fixed upon the stage; +his heart musing upon other scenes; himself the unconscious hero of a +living drama. +</p> + +<p> +Or, if you choose to lift your eyes, you see that woman with the +sweet, fair face, composed, not sad, turned with placid interest +towards the loves of Gretchen and Faust. She sees the eager delight of +the meeting; she hears the ardent vow; she feels the rapture of the +embrace. With placid interest she watches all--she, and the sedate +husband by her side. And yet when her eyes wander it is to see a man +in the parquette below her on the other side, who, between the acts, +rises with the rest and surveys the house, and looks at her as at all +the others. At this distance you cannot say if any softer color steals +into that placid face; you cannot tell if his survey lingers longer +upon her than upon the rest. Yet she was Gretchen once, and he was +Faust. There is no moonlight romance, no garden ecstasy, poorly +feigned upon the stage, that is not burned with eternal fire into +their memories. Night after night they come. They do not especially +like this music. They are not infatuated with these singers. They have +seats for the season; she with her husband, he in the orchestra +chairs. She has a pleasant home and sweet children and a kind mate, +and is not unhappy. He is at ease in his fortunes, and content. They +do not come here that they may see each other. They meet elsewhere as +all acquaintances meet. They cherish no morbid repining, no +sentimental regret. But every night there is an opera, and the theme +of every opera is love; and once, ah! once, she was Gretchen and he +was Faust. +</p> + +<p> +Do you see? These are three out of the three thousand. There is +nothing to distinguish them from the rest. Look at them all, and +reflect that all have their history; and that it is known, as this one +is known, to some other old Easy Chair, sitting in the parquette and +spying round the house. "All the world's a stage, and men and women +merely players." +</p> + +<p> +Is it quite so? Are these players? The young pale general there, the +placid woman, the man in the orchestra stall, have they been playing +only? There are scars upon that young soldier's body; in the most +secret drawer of that woman's chamber there is a dry, scentless +flower; the man in the orchestra stall could show you a tress of +golden hair. If they are players, who is in earnest? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="iii">EMERSON LECTURING.</a></h2> + +<p> +Many years ago the Easy Chair used to hear Ralph Waldo Emerson +lecture. Perhaps it was in the small Sunday-school room under a +country meeting-house, on sparkling winter nights, when all the +neighborhood came stamping and chattering to the door in hood and +muffler, or ringing in from a few miles away, buried under +buffalo-skins. The little, low room was dimly lighted with oil-lamps, +and the boys clumped about the stoves in their cowhide boots, and +laughed and buzzed and ate apples and peanuts and giggled, and grew +suddenly solemn when the grave men and women looked at them. At the +desk stood the lecturer and read his manuscript, and all but the boys +sat silent and inthralled by the musical spell. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the hearers remembered the speaker as a boy, as a young man. +Some wondered what he was talking about. Some thought him very queer. +All laughed at the delightful humor or the illustrative anecdote that +sparkled for a moment upon the surface of his talk; and some sat +inspired with unknown resolves, soaring upon lofty hopes as they +heard. A nobler life, a better manhood, a purer purpose wooed every +listening soul. It was not argument, nor description, nor appeal. It +was wit and wisdom, and hard sense and poetry, and scholarship and +music. And when the words were spoken and the lecturer sat down, the +Easy Chair sat still and heard the rich cadences lingering in the air, +as the young priest's heart throbs with the long vibrations when the +organist is gone. +</p> + +<p> +The same speaker had been heard a few years previously in the Masonic +Temple in Boston. It was the fashion among the gay to call him +transcendental. Grave parents were quoted as saying, "I don't go to +hear Mr. Emerson; I don't understand him. But my daughters do." Then +came a volume containing the discourses. They were called <i>Essays</i>. +Has our literature produced any wiser book? +</p> + +<p> +As the lyceum or lecture system grew, the philosopher whom "my +daughters" understood was called to speak. A simplicity of manner that +could be called rustic if it were not of a shy, scholarly elegance; +perfect composure, clear, clean, crisp sentences; maxims as full of +glittering truth as a winter night of stars; an incessant spray of +fine fancies like the November shower of meteors; and the same +intellectual and moral exaltation, expansion, and aspiration, were the +characteristics of all his lectures. +</p> + +<p> +He was never exactly popular, but always gave a tone and flavor to the +whole lyceum course, as the lump of ambergris flavors the Sultan's +cups of coffee for a year. "We can have him once in three or four +seasons," said the committees. But really they had him all the time +without knowing it. He was the philosopher Proteus, and he spoke +through all the more popular mouths. The speakers were acceptable +because they were liberal, and he was the great liberalizer. They +were, and they are, the middle-men between him and the public. They +watered the nectar, and made it easy to drink. +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair heard from time to time of Proteus on the platform--how +he was more and more eccentric--how he could not be understood--how +abrupt his manner was. But the Chair did not believe that the flame +which had once been so pure could ever be dimmer, especially as he +recognized its soft lustre on every aspect of life around him. +</p> + +<p> +After many years the opportunity to hear him came again; and although +the experiment was dangerous the Chair did not hesitate to try it. The +hall was pretty and not too large, and the audience was the best that +the country could furnish. Every one came solely to hear the speaker, +for it was one lecture in a course of his only. It was pleasant to +look around and mark the famous men and the accomplished women +gathering quietly in the same city where they used to gather to hear +him a quarter of a century before. How much the man who was presently +to speak had done for their lives, and their children's, and the +country! The power of one man is not easily traced in its channels and +details, but it is marked upon the whole. The word "transcendentalism" +has long passed by. It has not, perhaps, even yet gone out of fashion +to smile at wisdom as visionary, but this particular wise man had been +acquitted of being understood by my daughters, and there were rows of +"hardheads," "practical people," curious and interesting to +contemplate in the audience. +</p> + +<p> +The tall figure entered at a side door, and sat down upon a sofa +behind the desk. Age seemed not to have touched him since the evenings +in the country Sunday-school room. As he stood at the desk the +posture, the figure, the movement, were all unchanged. There was the +same rapt introverted glance as he began in a low voice, and for an +hour the older tree shook off a ceaseless shower of riper, fairer +fruit. The topic was "Table-Talk, or Conversation;" and the lecture +was its own most perfect illustration. It was not a sermon, nor an +oration, nor an argument; it was the perfection of talk; the talk of a +poet, of a philosopher, of a scholar. Its wit was a rapier, smooth, +sharp, incisive, delicate, exquisite. The blade was pure as an icicle. +You would have sworn that the hilt was diamond. The criticism was +humane, lofty, wise, sparkling; the anecdote so choice and apt, and +trickling from so many sources, that we seemed to be hearing the best +things of the wittiest people. It was altogether delightful, and the +audience sat glowing with satisfaction. There was no rhetoric, no +gesture, no grimace, no dramatic familiarity and action; but the +manner was self-respectful and courteous to the audience, and the tone +supremely just and sincere. "He is easily king of us all," whispered +an orator. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was not oratory either in its substance or purpose. It was a +statement of what this wise man believed conversation ought to be. Its +inevitable influence--the moral of the lecture, dear Lady Flora--was a +purification of daily talk, and the general good influence of incisive +truth-telling. If we have ever had a greater preacher of that gospel +who is he? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="iv">SHOPS AND SHOPPING.</a></h2> + +<p> +If the stranger in New York, on any pleasant day, finds himself near +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage he will be in the midst of a very +pretty scene. Perhaps as he reads these words and asks the question +where that romantic cot may be found, he is comfortably seated in it, +with his feet placidly reposing upon its window-sills. It is, indeed, +in a new form. It no longer looks as it did to the early citizen of +fifty years ago, driving out before breakfast upon the Bloomingdale +Road, and surveying the calm river from the seclusion of Stryker's +Bay. It had an indefinable road-side English air in those far-off +mornings. The early citizen would not have been surprised had he heard +the horn of the guard merrily winding, and beheld the mail-coach of +old England bowling up to the door. There were fields and open spaces +about it, for it was on the edge of the city that was already reaching +out upon the island. Bloomingdale! Twas a lovely name, and 'tis a +great pity that the chief association with it is that of a very dusty +road. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, if you will contemplate the Fifth Avenue Hotel you will see +Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage in its present form. But what a +busy, brilliant neighborhood it is now! There are shops that recall +the prettiest upon the boulevards in Paris; and the people are greatly +to be pitied who are too fine to stop and look into them. To be too +fine is to lose much. Yet what scion of the golden youth of this +moment would dare to walk by the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway +Cottage eating an apple at three o'clock in the afternoon? +</p> + +<p> +There was a grave and well-dressed gentleman who stopped recently at +the stand of Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan, which is just in the midst of +the gay promenade, to transact some business in peanut candy. The +interest of the public in that operation was inconceivable. If he had +been Mr. Vanderbilt buying out Mr. Astor--if he had been a lunatic +astray from the asylum, or a clown escaped from the circus--he could +hardly have excited more attention. The passengers stared in +amazement. Some young gentlemen, escorting certain young ladies from +school, cracked excellent jokes upon the honest buyer of peanut candy; +and if his daughter or any friend had chanced to pass and had seen +him, she would probably have been seriously troubled and half ashamed. +</p> + +<p> +Now peanut candy is very good, and at Mrs. M'Patrick O'Finnigan's +stand it is very cheap. Nobody is ashamed of liking it, nor of eating +it. If the grave gentleman had stepped into Caswell's brilliant shop, +let us suppose--where, perhaps, it is also sold--and had called for +that particular sweet, nobody would have stared nor made a joke nor +felt that it was extraordinary. Yet, how many of the brave generals in +the war, who charged in the very face of flaming batteries, would dare +to stop at Mrs. O'Finnigan's and buy ten cents' worth of peanut candy +if they saw Mrs. Sweller's carriage approaching, or Miss Dasher just +coming upon the walk? And as for the Misses Spanker, who daily drive +in that superb open wagon with yellow wheels, and who resemble nothing +so much as the figures in a Parisian doll-carriage, if they saw an +admirer of theirs bargaining for peanut candy at a street stand they +would not know him--they would no more bow to a man so lost to all the +finer sense of the <i>comme il faut</i> than they would nod to a +street-sweeper. It is astonishing what an effect is produced upon some +human beings of the tender sex by clothing them in silks cut in a +certain form, and seating them in a high wooden box on yellow wheels. +</p> + +<p> +And upon us, also. When the Easy Chair beholds the silken Misses +Spanker rolling by, superior, upon those yellow wheels, it is with +difficulty that it recalls the cheese and sausage from which all that +splendor springs. To-morrow it will be Mrs. O'Finnigan's grandchildren +who will look down from their yellow wheels at the peanut and apple +stands, and wonder how persons can be so vulgar as to buy candy in the +streets. It is a whim of Mrs. Grundy's, who is all whimsey. She will +not let us buy a piece of simple candy at the corner, but she will +allow us to drag a silk dress over the garbage of the pavement. 'Tis a +whimsical sovereign. But we are so carefully trained that it is not +easy to disobey her. If to prove your independence you should stop to +buy the candy, would the pleasure of asserting yourself balance the +unpleasant consciousness that you were wondered at and laughed at? +</p> + +<p> +But the text was shops, and we have drifted into this episode because +Mrs. O'Finnigan sells peanut candy in her shop upon the sidewalk near +the site of Corporal Thompson's Broadway Cottage, in the midst of the +gay spectacle of a summer day. And within a stone's-toss of her stand +how many fine houses you will see, and how many other fascinating +shops! Our English ancestors were called a shopkeeping nation by +Napoleon; but it is his own Frenchmen and Frenchwomen who have the +true secret of shopkeeping. They make shops fascinating. They have +made shopkeeping a fine art. The other day the Easy Chair stepped into +a shop in Maiden Lane, prepared to spend a very pretty sum of money, +for a very proper purpose. But if it had invaded the shopkeeper's +house, which is his castle, or threatened his hat, which is his crown, +it could not have been received more coolly. The disdainful +indifference with which its question was answered was exquisitely +comical; and the shopkeeper proceeded to look for what was required +with a superb carelessness, and an air of utter weariness and disgust +of this incessant doing of favors to the most undeserving and +insignificant people. It was plainly an act of pure grace that the +Easy Chair was not instantly shot into the street as rubbish, or given +in charge to the police as a common vagabond. +</p> + +<p> +This worthy attendant--doubtless very estimable in his private +capacity--is a serious injury to the business which he is supposed to +help. He does not in the least understand his profession. Let an Easy +Chair advise him to run over the sea to Paris, and observe how they +keep shop in that capital. Does he want a cravat? Here is a houri, +neatly dressed, evidently long waiting for him especially, and eager +to serve him. "Is it a cravat that Monsieur wishes? Charming! The most +ravishing styles are just ready! Is it blue, or this, or that, that +Monsieur prefers? Monsieur's taste is perfect. Look! It is a miracle +of beauty that he selects. Will he permit?" And before you know it, +you foolish fellow, who don't understand the first principle of your +calling--before you know it, she has thrown it around your neck, she +has tied it deftly under your chin, and that pretty face is looking +into yours, and that pleasant voice is saying, "Nothing could be +better. It is the most smiling effect possible!" You might as well +hope to escape the sirens, as to go from under those hands without +buying that cravat. +</p> + +<p> +This is shopkeeping, and a little study of the art, as thus practised, +would be of the utmost service to the Easy Chair's friend in Maiden +Lane. The shops there are pretty, and especially during the holidays +they are glittering, but they are a little cold and formal. The air of +the Boulevards is to be detected only in the neighborhood of Corporal +Thompson's Broadway Cottage. Whether cravats are there wafted around +the buyer's neck, as it were, entangling him hopelessly in silken and +satin webs, the Easy Chair does not know. But it can believe it, as it +passes by upon the outside, and beholds the windows which Paris could +hardly surpass. Through those windows it sees that, as in Paris, the +attendants are often women. It is thereby reminded that in Paris the +women are among the most accomplished accountants also; and it +remembers that in the same city men are cooks. It is very sure that +when Madame Welles, who was afterwards the Marchioness De Lavalette, +became at the death of her husband the head of the great +banking-house, her cook was a man. +</p> + +<p> +And thereupon the Easy Chair falls into meditation upon "the sphere" +of the sexes, and asks itself, as it loiters about the site of the +Broadway Cottage, admiring the pretty shops, whether, if it be womanly +for woman to keep shop and to acquire property by her faithful +industry, it can be manly for man to make laws appropriating and using +her property without her consent? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="v">MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN.</a></h2> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy was lately astonished by the remark of a cheerful +cosmopolitan whom she proposed to introduce to a very rich man. She +seemed to catch her breath as she spoke of his exceeding great riches +in the tone of admiring awe which betrays the devout snob. The +cosmopolitan listened pleasantly as Mrs. Grundy spoke with the air of +proposing to him the greatest of favors and blessings. +</p> + +<p> +"You say he is very rich?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Enormously, fabulously," replied Mrs. Grundy, as if crossing herself. +</p> + +<p> +"Will he give me any of his money?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy gazed blankly at the questioner. "Give you any of his +money? What do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"Mean?" answered the cheerful cosmopolitan; "my meaning is plain. If I +am introduced to a scholar, he gives me something of his scholarship; +a traveller gives me experience; a scientific man, information; a +musician plays or sings for me; and if you introduce me to a man whose +distinction is his riches, I wish to know what advantage I am to gain +from his acquaintance, and whether I may expect him to impart to me +something of that for which he is distinguished." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy, who is easily discomposed by an unexpected turn in the +conversation, looked confused, but said, presently, "Why, you will +dine with the Midases and the Plutuses." + +"But they are merely the same thing," said the cosmopolitan, gayly. +"You know the story: Mr. and Mrs. MacSycophant, Miss MacSycophant, +Miss Imogen MacSycophant, Mr. Plantagenet MacSycophant, Miss Boadicea +MacSycophant--and more of the same. One MacSycophant is as good as +twenty, Mrs. Grundy; and as I know the Midases already, and find them +amusingly dull, why should I know the Plutuses, who are probably even +duller?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Grundy looked as if transfixed. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," continued the cosmopolitan, laughing, "I do not deny that money +is an excellent thing. I am glad that I am not in want of it. But it +is a dangerous thing to handle. If you don't manage it well it exposes +you terribly. Great riches are like an electric light--like a noonday +sun; they reveal everything. If a man stands in a ridiculous attitude, +or is clad scantily, the intense light displays him remorselessly to +every beholder. Great riches do the same. I saw you at the Midases', +dear Mrs. Grundy. Did you ever see a more sumptuous entertainment or a +more splendid palace? What pictures and statues and vases! what +exquisite and costly decoration! what gold and glass! what Sevres and +Dresden! But the more I admired the beautiful works of art, the more I +thought of the enthusiasm and devotion of the artist, the more I was +touched by the grace and delicacy of color and form around me; and the +more I heard Midas talk, the more clearly I saw that he did not see, +or feel, or understand anything of the real value and significance of +his own <i>entourage</i>. The more beautiful it was, the more plainly it +displayed his total want of perception of beauty. +</p> + +<p> +"His house is a magnificent museum. It is full of treasures. But they +all dwarf and deride him. They are so many relentless lights turned on +to show how completely he is not at home in his own house. He is as +much out of place among them as a horse in a studio. He has all the +proper books of a gentleman's library, and all superbly bound. What +does he know about them? He never read a book. He has marvellous +pictures. What does he know of pictures? He doesn't know whether +Gainsborough was a painter or a potter, or whether Giotto was a Greek +or a Roman. He has books and pictures merely because he has money +enough to buy them, and because it is understood that a fine house +should have a library and a gallery. Is it otherwise with his glass +and porcelain? What do you think that he could tell you of Dresden +china--its history, its masters, its manufacture? You say that very +few people could tell you much about it. Granted; but if a man +surrounds himself with it, and forces it upon your attention, you have +a right not only to ask such questions, but to expect answers. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Mrs. Grundy, when I was a young man on my travels, and was +introduced at a London club, the porter, or the major-domo, or the +door-keeper, or whatever he was, seemed to me like a peer of the +realm. He was faultlessly dressed, and he had most tranquil manners. +Well, our good friend Midas is that gentleman. He is the curator of a +fine museum. He opens the door to a well-furnished club. But he is in +no proper sense master of his house. The master of such a house, as +Goethe said of the picture-owner, is the man to whom you can say, +'Show me the best.' Poor Midas could only show us the costliest. Eh, +Mrs. Grundy?" +</p> + +<p> +That excellent lady's eyes had expanded, during these remarks, until +they were fixed in a round, stony stare at the cheerful cosmopolitan. +</p> + +<p> +"And this, you see, my good lady, is the reason that all this display +is called vulgar. It represents nothing but money. It does not +represent taste, or intelligence, or talent, in the possessor, and the +sole relation between him and his possessions is his ability to pay +for them. You drink his superior wines. But even you, Mrs. Grundy, are +not quite sure that he could distinguish between the finest madeira +and a common sherry. That is no fault, surely, but there is a great +difference between wines. +</p> + +<p> +"When you kindly offer to present me to a gentleman of whom you can +say only that he is very rich, and I ask you if he will give me some +of his money, you look surprised and shocked. But I am not a +misanthrope, and I ask a question which you can answer affirmatively. +He will give me some of his money in giving me some of the pleasure +which is derivable from what his money buys. For that I am grateful. I +tip the custode with my sincere thanks. I bow to the door-keeper with +hearty acknowledgment. I shall go again and again with great pleasure. +But I shall not make the singular mistake of supposing that he bears +the same relation to his possessions that the musician bears to his +music, and the scholar to his knowledge, and the traveller to his +shrewd observation. +</p> + +<p> +"You think that I am basely looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not at +all. I am only declining to believe the porter to be a peer of the +realm merely because he wears a white cravat and has tranquil manners. +If Midas is a dull man, all the money in the world does not make him +interesting. But if he has accumulated beautiful and interesting +things, I shall gladly go to his house and see them. Now, my dear Mrs. +Grundy, that is very different from going to his house to see the +Plutuses. They are not the possessions that make his house desirable. +My young friend Hornet says that if the only way to drink Midas's +gold-seal Johannisberger is to take Mrs. Plutus down to dinner, he +will not hesitate to pay the price, as he is willing to pay the price +of sea-sickness if he wishes to see the Vatican. Does my dear Mrs. +Grundy comprehend?" +</p> + +<p> +--But the good lady was gone. She could draw but one conclusion from +such a strain of remark about people with fabulous incomes. The +cheerful cosmopolitan must have been dining with Mr. Midas, and must +have sat much too long at table. What a pity that so pleasant a man +should permit himself such excesses! There was, however, but one +course for a self-respecting woman to pursue--Mrs. Grundy had left him +alone. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="vi">DICKENS READING. [1867.]</a></h2> + +<p> +When, hereafter, some chance traveller picks up this odd number of an +old magazine and opens to this very page, let him know that the +evening of Dickens's first reading in New York was bright with +moonlight veiled in a soft gray snow-cloud. The crowd at the entrance +was not large. The speculators in tickets were not troublesome, +because all the tickets had been long sold. The police, as usual, were +polite and efficient; and going up the steep staircase, and passing +through the single door, we were all quietly and pleasantly seated by +eight o'clock. The floor of Steinway Hall is level, so that the +audience is lost to itself; but it was easy for all of us to perceive, +by scanning our neighbors, that we were a very fine body of people. At +least everybody who was present said so. We all remarked that the +intelligence and distinction of the city were present, and that it +must be extremely gratifying to Mr. Dickens to be welcomed by the most +intellectual and appreciative audience that could be assembled in New +York. +</p> + +<p> +The details of the arrangement upon the platform, the screen behind, +the hidden lights above and below, and the stiff little table with the +water-bottle, are familiar. But as we all sat looking at them, and at +the variously splendid toilets that rustled in, and fluttered, and +finally settled, it was not possible to escape the great thought that +in a few moments we should see at that queer, stiff table the creator +of Sam Weller, and Oliver Twist, and Micawber, and Dick Swiveller, and +the rest of the endless, marvellous company--the greatest story-teller +since Scott, one of the most famous names in literature since +Fielding. When he was here before Carlyle growled in <i>Past and +Present</i> about "Schnauspiel, the distinguished novelist," and there +were some who laughed. But the laugh has passed by.--Look! There is a +man, who looks like somebody's "own man," who scuffles across the +stage and turns up a burner or two; and he is scarcely out of the way +when--there he comes, rapidly, in full evening dress, with a heavy +watch-chain, and a nosegay in his button-hole, the world's own man. +</p> + +<p> +His reception was sober. The whole audience clapped its gloved hands. +Not a heel, not a cane, mingled with the sound, not a solitary voice. +It was a very muffled cordiality, an enthusiasm in kid gloves. The +Easy Chair, for one, longed to rise and shout. Heaven has given us +voices, brethren, with which to welcome and salute our friends, and if +ever a long, long cheer should have rung from the heart, it was when +the man who has done so much for all of us stood before us. But it was +useless. The steady clapping was prolonged, and Dickers stood calmly, +bowing easily once or twice, and waiting with the air of one ready to +begin business. +</p> + +<p> +The instant there was silence he did begin: "Ladies and gentlemen, I +am to have the honor of reading to you this evening the trial-scene +from Pickwick, and a Christmas Carol in a prelude and three scenes. +Scene first, Marley's Ghost. Marley was dead, to begin with." These +words, or words very similar, were spoken in a husky voice, not +remarkable in any way, and with the English cadence in articulation, a +rising inflection at the end of every few words. They were spoken with +perfect simplicity, and the introductory description was read with +good sense, and conveyed a fine relish upon the reader's part of the +things described. There was nothing formal, no effort of any kind. The +left hand held the book, the right hand moved continually, slightly +indicating the action described, as of putting on a muffler, or +whatever it might be. But the moment Scrooge spoke the drama began. +</p> + +<p> +Every character was individualized by the voice and by a slight change +of expression. But the reader stood perfectly still, and the instant +transition of the voice from the dramatic to the descriptive tone was +unfailing and extraordinary. This was perfection of art. Nor was the +evenness of the variety less striking. Every character was indicated +with the same felicity. Of course the previous image in the hearer's +mind must be considered in estimating the effect. The reader does not +create the character, the writer has done that; and now he refreshes +it into unwonted vividness, as when a wet sponge is passed over an old +picture. Scrooge, and Tiny Tim, and Sam Weller and his wonderful +father, and Sergeant Buzfuz, and Justice Stareleigh have an intenser +reality and vitality than before. As the reading advances the spell +becomes more entrancing. The mind and heart answer instantly to every +tone and look of the reader. In a passionate outburst, as in Bob +Cratchit's wail for his lost little boy, or in Scrooge's prayer to be +allowed to repent, the whole scene lives and throbs before you. And +when, in the great trial of Bardell against Pickwick, the thick, fat +voice of the elder Weller wheezes from the gallery, "Put it down with +a wee, me Lerd, put it down with a wee," you turn to look for the +gallery and behold the benevolent parent. +</p> + +<p> +Through all there is a striking sense of reserved power, and of +absolute mastery of the art. There is no straining for points, no +exaggeration, no extravagance, but an instinctive and adequate outlay +of means for every effect, and a complete preservation of personal +dignity throughout. The enjoyment is sincere and unique; and when the +young gentleman before us remarks to the flossy young woman at his +side that "any clever actor can do the thing as well," we congratulate +him inwardly upon his experience of the theatre. Perhaps, also, the +flossy young woman is of opinion that any clever author can write as +well as this reader. +</p> + +<p> +There is a serious drawback to this first evening's enjoyment, +however, and that is that fully a third of those present hear very +imperfectly. Nothing can surpass the air of mingled indignation, +chagrin, and disappointment with which a severe lady just behind +declares that she did not hear a word, and adds, caustically, that the +spectacle alone is hardly worth the money. Not worth the money? Dear +Madam, the Easy Chair would willingly pay more than the price of +admission merely to see him. And just as he is thinking so another +friend leans forward and says, in a decided tone of utter +disappointment, "Just let me take your glass, will you? I can't hear a +word, but I should like to see how the man looks." As the Easy Chair +passes out of the door he encounters Mr. and Mrs. Sealskin, sailing +smoothly and silently out. "How delightful!" exclaims the innocent and +unwary Chair. "Didn't hear a word," says Mr. Sealskin, sententiously, +and without pausing in his course; and Madam upon his arm raises her +eyebrows and looks emphatically "not a word!" So the Easy Chair +gradually discovers that there has been a very wide and lamentable +disappointment, and that a large part of the throng has been +tantalized through the evening in the vain effort to hear--catching a +few words and losing the point of the joke. No wonder they are very +sober, and sail out of the hall very steadily, with an air of thinking +that they have been victims, but also with the plain wish to think as +well of Mr. Charles Dickens as circumstances will allow. Still, they +evidently hold him, upon the whole, responsible, just as an audience +assembled to hear a lecture, and obliged to go unlectured away, holds +the lecturer--chafing in a snow-bank upon the railroad fifty miles +away--responsible for its disappointment. It is pleasant for the +Sealskins to read, as the Easy Chair did the next morning, in the +ever-veracious and independent press, that Mr. Dickens's voice is +heard with ease in every part of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +But let them feel as they may, those who did not hear are sure to go +again, and if they hear the next time, again and again. Let the future +reader of this odd number of a magazine learn further that such was +the popular eagerness to attend these readings that people gathered +before light to stand in the line of the ticket-office. One historic +boy is said to have passed the night in the cold waiting for the +opening of the office, and to have sold his prize for thirty dollars +in gold to "a Southerner." Another person was offered twenty dollars +for his place in the line, with merely a chance of getting a ticket +when his turn came at the office. +</p> + +<p> +The interest was unabated to the end, and under the personal spell of +the enchanter that old ill-feeling towards the author of <i>American +Notes</i> and the creator of Chuzzlewit melted away. And why not? Do we +not all know our Yankee brother of whom Dickens told us, who has a +huge note of interrogation in each eye, and can we blame the +Englishman for using his own eyes? Is not that silent traveller whom +he saw still to be seen in every train sucking the great ivory head of +his cane and taking it out occasionally and looking at it to see how +it is getting on? If we had been a little angry with Lemuel Gulliver +or Robinson Crusoe, could our anger have survived hearing one of them +tell his story of Liliput, or the other the tale of the solitary +island? +</p> + +<p> +After his little winter tour Dickens returned to New York to take +leave of the American public. On the Saturday evening before the final +reading the newspaper fraternity gave him a dinner at Delmonico's, +which was then at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fourteenth Street, +formerly the hospitable house of Moses H. Grinnell. At this dinner Mr. +Greeley presided, and that the bland and eccentric teetotaler, who was +not supposed to be versed in what Carlyle called the "tea-table +proprieties," should take the chair at a dinner to so roistering a +blade--within discreet limits--and so skilled an artist of all kinds +of beverages as Dickens, was a stroke of extravaganza in his own way. +The dinner was in every way memorable and delightful, but the +enjoyment was sobered by the illness of the guest from one of the +attacks which, as was known soon afterwards, foretold the speedy end. +It was, indeed, doubtful if he could appear, but after an hour he came +limping slowly into the room on the arm of Mr. Greeley. +</p> + +<p> +In his speech, with great delicacy and feeling, Dickens alluded to +some possible misunderstanding, now forever vanished, between him and +his hosts, and declared his purpose of publicly recognizing that fact +in future editions of his works. His words were greeted with great +enthusiasm, and on the following Monday evening he read, at Steinway +Hall, for the last time in this country, and sailed on Wednesday. He +was still very lame, but he read with unusual vigor, and with deep +feeling. As he ended, and slowly limped away, the applause was +prodigious, and the whole audience rose and stood waiting. Reaching +the steps of the platform he paused, and turned towards the hall; +then, after a moment, he came slowly and painfully back again, and +with a pale face and evidently profoundly moved, he gazed at the vast +audience. The hall was hushed, and in a voice firm, but full of +pathos, he spoke a few words of farewell. "I shall never recall you," +he said, "as a mere public audience, but rather as a host of personal +friends, and ever with the greatest gratitude, tenderness, and +consideration. God bless you, and God bless the land in which I leave +you!" The great audience waited respectfully, wistfully watching him +as he slowly withdrew. The faithful Dolby, his friend and manager, +helped him down the steps. For a moment he turned and looked at the +crowded hall. It was full of hearts responding to his own. There was a +common consciousness that it was a last parting, and his fervid +benediction was silently reciprocated.--Then the door closed behind +him. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="vii">PHILLIS.</a></h2> + +<p> +There is one lady in literature and in life whom all men are said, not +without gentle sarcasm if a woman says it, to wish especially to know. +She is declared to be the vision that haunts the youth as his heart +opens to the soft influences of love, and her figure, trim and +debonair, that allures the older fancy of the man who sits "alone and +merry at forty year," having seen his earlier Gillian and Marian and a +score more happily married. She is, in fact, the domestic magician, +the good fairy, the genius of home, the thoughtful, tactful, careful, +intelligent house-keeper, the very she whom Milton sings, introducing +us to +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Herbs and other country messes<br> + Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses." +</p> + +<p> +Her name is Phillis--not exactly a romantic name, nor, indeed, is it +meant by the poet to be a romantic name; for he has just before +sketched another kind of woman: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Towers and battlements it sees<br> + Bosom'd high in tufted trees,<br> + Where perhaps some beauty lies,<br> + The cynosure of neighboring eyes." +</p> + +<p> +Such a cynosure could not possibly have been named Phillis: Artemis, +perhaps, or Hildegarde; Constance, Una, Mildred, or Cunigunda, but by +no possibility Phillis. That is a pastoral name, a shepherd's +sweetheart. Indeed, the two kinds of women are perfectly indicated and +distinguished in these lines of <i>L'Allegro</i>, which have no detail of +description. The impression of womanly difference is nowhere more +completely given. One picture is that of the lofty, haughty, "highborn +Helen," the superb Lady Clara Vere de Vere; the other is that of the +thrifty Baucis, the gardener Adam's wife. And the two are as near in +the young man's heart as they are in the poem. +</p> + +<p> +When Mr. William Guppy raised his eyes from the pit of the theatre to +Miss Esther Summerson sitting in the boxes, the "image imprinted on +his 'art" was that of the cynosure of neighboring eyes, stately among +stately towers and ancestral trees. But doubtless when Mr. William +Guppy, as lovers will, abandoned himself to blissful dreams of the +possible home that should grow out of his lofty passion, it was +another vision that he saw; it was the high-born Helen coming down to +breakfast in a sweet morning-cap, a neat-handed Phillis. For love, +which soars and sings, also builds its nest. The one instinct is as +deep and sure as the other. The cynosure of worshipping hearts and +eyes is but the romantic aspect of Phillis: and because she is so +lofty and so lovely will she be the miracle-worker in the household. +The secret sorrow of a thousand homes is that the lady of the towers +and battlements does not prove in fact to be also the neat-handed +Phillis. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, it is a kind of national complaint and lamentation that the +neat-handed Phillis is disappearing altogether. This is the +significance of the servant-girl question. This is the root of the +alarming conviction that Phillis is changing into Biddy, whose fit +epithet is not neat-handed. This is the meaning of the cry for +bread--light, sweet, well-baked bread; not the clammy dough which is +served to a despairing land. This is the reason of the wondering +question, What has become of roast meat? and of the melancholy +conviction that henceforth baked beef is to replace the juicy sirloin +of tradition, history, and elegant literature. +</p> + +<p> +Of the accomplished and intelligent young women who honor the Easy +Chair at this moment with their attention, of course the immense +majority can broil a steak to a turn, or mix the airiest bread, or +boil potatoes as new-fallen snow. But there are some unfortunates who +cannot do it. Let us pity them. They would probably tell us that they +have not studied poetry and music, the French language, crochet, and +the Boston, to become kitchen drudges: and they will not fail to +remind us that Cinderella did not charm the prince as a kitchen-maid, +and that she had ceased to be Cinderbreech, and had emerged from the +chimney-corner when she married him. But will they please to curb +their wrath for a moment and listen to Dr. Clarke? "Unless men and +women both have brains, the nation will go down. As much brain is +needed to govern a household as to command a ship; as much to guide a +family aright as to guide a Congress aright; as much to do the least +and the greatest of woman's work as to do the least and the greatest +of man's work." +</p> + +<p> +Now, the dressing of messes by the neat-handed Phillis is one of the +important elements of governing a household; and the Princess +Cinderella was the better housewife because she had once been +Cinderbreech. Nelson was the better admiral because he had once been +cabin-boy. Dickens was the better story-teller because he had once +been reporter. If, indeed, Darby can afford to pay a hundred dollars +monthly to a <i>chef</i>, Joan need know nothing of messes; but how many +such Darbys are there? +</p> + +<p> +These remarks, or similar ones, have been often heard by the gentler +reader, and are somewhat familiar to her, not to say wearisome. "Oh +yes," she says, "I know all this: men want women in the family to be +angels and French cooks rolled into one. Heaven save the mark! Suppose +that women on their side were to expect men in the family to be heroes +and gentlemen as well as 'good providers?'" +</p> + +<p> +Well, madame, they ought to expect it and to insist upon it. Perhaps +you have played the little game of parlor magic? There are homes in +which that game is always played, and they are the happiest of all. In +them the real value of neatness and order, of thrift and taste and +temperance, is understood, and the Beauty who once lay lapped in lofty +towers knows that the romance which enshrined her amid those +battlements and tufted trees is preserved and forever refreshed by the +art of the neat-handed Phillis. And, madame, upon <i>his</i> side <i>he</i> does +not reverse the order of the story and of nature, and sink from the +Prince into the Beast. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="viii">THOREAU AND MY LADY CAVALIERE.</a></h2> + +<p> +The last time that the Easy Chair saw that remarkable man, Henry +Thoreau, he came quietly into Mr. Emerson's study to get a volume of +Pliny's letters. Expecting to see no one, and accustomed to attend +without distraction to the business in hand, he was as quietly going +out, when the host spoke to him, and without surprise, and with +unsmiling courtesy, Thoreau greeted his friends. He seated himself, +maintaining the same habitual erect posture, which made it seem +impossible that he could ever lounge or slouch, and that made +Hawthorne speak of him as "cast-iron," and immediately he began to +talk in the strain so familiar to his friends. It was a staccato style +of speech, every word coming separately and distinctly, as if +preserving the same cool isolation in the sentence that the speaker +did in society; but the words were singularly apt and choice, and +Thoreau had always something to say. His knowledge was original. He +was a Fine-ear and a Sharp-eye in the woods and fields; and he added +to his knowledge of nature the wisdom of the most ancient times and of +the best literature. His manner and matter both reproved trifling, but +in the most impersonal manner. It was like the reproof of Pan's +statue. There seemed never to be any loosening of the intellectual +tension, and a call from Thoreau in the highest sense "meant +business." +</p> + +<p> +On the morning of which we are speaking the talk fell upon the +Indians, with whom he had a profound sympathy, and of whose life and +ways and nature he apparently had an instinctive knowledge. In the +slightly contemptuous inference against civilization which his remarks +left, rather than in any positively scornful tone, there was something +which rather humorously suggested the man who spoke lightly of the +equator, but with the difference that there would have been if the +light speaking had left a horrible suspicion of that excellent circle. +For Thoreau so ingeniously traced our obligations to the aborigines +that the claims of civilization for what is really essential palpably +dwindled. He dropped all manner of curious and delightful information +as he went on, and it was sad to see in the hollow cheek and the +large, unnaturally lustrous eye the signs of the disease that very +soon removed him from among us. Those who remember him, and were +familiar with his truly heroic and virtuous life, or those who +perceive in his works that spirit of sweetness and content which made +him at the last say that he was as happy to be sick as to be well, +will apply to him the words of his own poem in the first number of the +<i>Dial</i>: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Say not that Caesar was victorious,<br> + With toil and strife who stormed the House of Fame;<br> + In other sense this youth was glorious,<br> + Himself a kingdom wheresoe'er he came." +</p> + +<p> +His talk of the Indians left an impression entirely unlike that of the +Cooper novel and the red man of the theatre. It was untouched by +romance or sentimentality. It made them a grave, manly race, +intimately familiar with nature, with a lofty scorn of feebleness. The +sylvan shade and the leafy realm and Arden and pastoral poetry were +wholly wanting in the picture he drew, quite as much as the theory +that they are vermin to be exterminated as fast as possible. He said +that the pioneers of civilization, as it is called, among the Indians +are purveyors of every kind of mischief. We graft the sound native +stock with a sour fruit, then denounce it bitterly and cut it down. +What was most admirable in Daniel Boone, he said, was his Indian +nature and sympathy; and the least admirable part was his hold, such +as it was, upon civilization. He seemed to imply that if Boone could +only have succeeded in becoming an Indian altogether, it would have +been a truly memorable triumph. Thoreau acknowledged that the Indian +was not only doomed, but, as he gravely said, damned, because his +enemies were his historians; and he could only say, "Ah, if we lions +had painted the picture!" +</p> + +<p> +The sylvan idea of Daniel Boone would probably have been very rudely +shattered could he have been actually seen; and Thoreau's Indian was +certainly not visible in the stories of men of his time who had passed +weeks among the Indians upon the plains. The pioneers, like Boone, are +not romantic; their life is a hard toil and struggle; they are +ignorant, rude, and even repulsive. This is natural, because their +real work is that of the subsoil plough and the harrow. They lay the +strong foundations. Without them, no soft waving field of golden +harvest, no velvet lawn, no Palladian villa, no flower of art and +culture--in a word, no progress, as we call it--however the shade of +Thoreau may implacably smile. So when the Lady Cavaliere whispered +from under her beaded veil, "Don't speak of it, but I am tired to +death of reformers," it was only the artist's impatience of the +ploughman; it was Rupert and his men not only sneering at Praise God +Bare-bones, and singing their mock prayer in the Lenten litany, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "That it may please thee to suppose<br> + Our actions are as good as those<br> + That gull the people through the nose," +</p> + +<p> +but heartily believing Cromwell and his men to be canting hypocrites. +</p> + +<p> +And yet the Lady Cavaliere is too well informed not to know that it +was not the silken chivalry who planted the king's standard and +defended it with all heroism, in whose praise the poets sang, who are +still the heroes of romance, and whose life had the charm of grace and +ease and accomplishment and <i>savoir faire</i>, that saved England and a +great deal more. The lady has sauntered through the palaces where the +Vandyck portrait of the king hangs upon the walls, the handsome, +melancholy Stuart. She looked at it secretly, perhaps, with something +of the same feeling that men think of the hapless Mary, as we call +her. What a gentleman! how refined! how sad! how agreeable to the +fancy! Yes, dear lady, and what a liar! how false-hearted! who would +have had his own foolish way whatever happened to other men! He would +have gratified your taste to the utmost; you would never have said +under your breath, "How I hate reformers!" he would have, perhaps, +carried your imagination and taste against your conscience and +judgment. And it is for that very reason--because taste and +imagination are so subtly seductive--that it is essential to challenge +them. St. Anthony did not mind the devil as a dragon; but the devil as +a siren--ah! how hard St. Anthony had to pray! +</p> + +<p> +Change is apt to present itself first in its unhandsome aspect. You +would much rather hear a lute in the moonlight upon the lawn, and +behold! a coarse plough and a frightful harrow. Yet, so lutes and +lawns begin. You like the smooth music of a silken court, the +picturesque ceremony, the poetic tradition, the perfume, the splendor, +and lo! a troop in jerkin pricking to the fray in horrible earnest, +and blood, and ghastly wounds, and torture, and merciful death! Yet, +so courts and ceremonies are instituted. One of the hardest battles +that reform has to fight is this battle in the air--so to speak: this +contest with taste and imagination that cling to the myriad-hued moss +and the delicate vine fringe upon the ogre's castle, and that find the +donjon so much more picturesque than the house. +</p> + +<p> +A cause is seen through its pioneers, and taste and imagination are +confused and confounded in the medium. A nature like Falkland's could +not see liberty clearly even through John Pym--how much less through +nasal psalm-singing butchers and brewers building a scaffold for the +king. So, in our own time, the great question that so sorely rent us +was seen by taste and imagination in the form of delicate, +highly-cultured women, of a superficial tranquil elegance of society, +of patriarchal tradition, of easy knowledge of the world, and the +smooth habit of society upon the one hand; and upon the other, often +in the form of a queer medley of grotesque people, each more +extravagant than the other, and uttering the wildest sentiments in the +most absurd rhetoric. The Lady Cavaliere has not forgotten that the +last retreat of the doomed system was the salon and the boudoir, where +taste is law, and where decorous immorality is not unwelcome. +</p> + +<p> +By-and-by, when the reform is established and has become traditional, +its pioneers become heroic and poetic. The Norman robber is then +discovered to be a kind of blue-blooded gentleman, or at least the +sturdy, aboriginal father of gentlemen. The rough and half-savage +Boone is the ideal frontiersman, with a smack of Arden and the sylvan +realm. And as for the coarse-toothed harrow--as my Lady Cavaliere sits +upon the porch and sees the peacock unfolding his glory upon the soft, +thick sward, do you see that my lady wears a delicate trinket around +her swan neck, and lo! it is a harrow exquisitely wrought in gold. +</p> + +<p> +The feeling with which she breathed through her beaded veil her +dislike of pioneer reformers is as old as human nature. But it was not +the sigh of wisdom, but of weariness, in my lady. There is a certain +insight even in gentle youth which does not recoil from the pioneer, +and foresees the soft sward springing under the harrow as it tears the +heavy clods. Those in whom youth abides never outgrow that precious +insight and foresight. One such, not less fair than my Lady Cavaliere, +of the most tranquil and undemonstrative behavior, has long been to +how many good causes one of the most valuable and efficient friends. +She has not cared that Daniel Boone should recede into poetic distance +before he seemed to her a hero. In his cabin as he smoked, in the hard +winter day as he felled the forest tree, in the rough, unhandsome +experience of every hour, he has been to her the forerunner of +refinement and plenty and ease. If taste and imagination shrink from +the squalor of the frontier, she remembers the greater squalor and the +darker tragedy of the city slum. If the long-haired, shambling, shrill +fanatic upon the platform be a contemptuous jest to my Lady Cavaliere, +this fairer lady remembers John clad in goat-skins and crying in the +wilderness. I wish, she says, that mankind might sit at a sumptuous +table, but I shall not scoff at the wooden spoon that feeds its +hunger. She hangs one picture upon her wall: it is Christ sitting at +meat with publicans and sinners. And so season after season, year +after year, she carries her sympathy, her hope, her steady faith to +all the pioneers. She is not a poet, but the world is to her +enchanted. Under the sharp voice of the reformer she hears the music +of the harmony which he discordantly foretells. With the distorted +eyes of the ill-disciplined, ignorant enthusiast she beholds the +symmetry of the future towards which he looks. In turn, the reformer +and the enthusiast behold in her and vaguely comprehend the outward +charm of beauty and grace and high condition which they blindly +announce. It is as if Daniel Boone, shaggy and savage, suddenly saw +his cabin and his rude clearing glorified: a stately, hospitable +mansion, overlooking a placid landscape of rounded groves and blooming +gardens and distant parks, murmuring with the song of birds and all +domestic sounds. Her service to a good cause is more than eloquence, +more than devotion--it is the perpetual presence of its ideal. +</p> + +<p> +There were plenty of Lords and Ladies Cavaliere who were tired to +death of that solemn enthusiast and bore, Columbus. But when he saw +the shore of San Salvador he must have recalled that he had long ago +seen it in the patient faith of any unknown friend who had always +hoped for him and believed with him. The Lady Cavaliere who thinks +Daniel Boone in early Kentucky, or Christopher Columbus pacing the +shore and ceaselessly looking westward, the most romantic of figures, +does not know that she sneered at both when she whispered, "I am tired +to death of reformers." +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="ix">HONESTUS AT THE CAUCUS.</a></h2> + +<p> +A man who is easily discouraged, who is not willing to put the good +seed out of sight and wait for results, who desponds if he cannot +obtain everything at once, and who thinks the human race lost if he is +disappointed, will be very unhappy if he persists in taking a part in +politics. There is no sphere in which self-deception is easier. A man +with a restless personal ambition is very apt to believe his own +purposes to be public ends, and he finds his party to be recreant to +its principles if he fails to get what he wants. A young man comes +from college carefully trained, with the taste for politics which +belongs to the English race, and with the wish and hope to distinguish +himself and to serve his country. He attaches himself to a party, and +works for it in the usual way, waiting for his opportunity and his +distinction. Gradually the gratification of his ambition becomes his +test of the patriotic sincerity and wisdom of his party. He does not +think that it is so. He does not state it to himself in that bald way. +But he feels that he is the kind of man that his party ought to +promote, that he has the capacity and the desire to be of use, and +that if his party has not perceptions sharp enough to know its own +best men, nor the wish to distinguish them by calling them to office, +there is something deplorable in its condition. +</p> + +<p> +"I am afraid," said a gentleman of this kind to the Easy Chair, "that +my party is falling into bad hands. I see signs of corruption which +seem to me very disheartening." He shook his head forebodingly. This +gentleman did not conceal his opinion. He announced it freely, and the +rumor came to the ears of the real managers of the party. They put +their heads together, and presently the foreboding gentleman was +called to a public position. Again the Easy Chair met him, and he said +that the political prospect was very much more encouraging than he had +ever known it to be. There was a spirit abroad, he thought, which +would certainly lead to great results. Indeed, the clouds were gone, +and the sun shone brightly. +</p> + +<p> +At another time another gentleman shook his head in the same way. He +held a pleasant position, but he found that promotion was very slow, +and he began to despond and to think the times sadly demoralized, and +his party--at least he feared it--fatally mercenary. It was evidently +indifferent to reform, and seemed to care little for the wishes of the +people or the character of the country. He, too, shook his head with +profound distrust of the future; and the Easy Chair fell into deep +depression, and wondered whether, after all, a republican form of +government might not be a failure. Before it was possible to say so +conclusively, however, the Chair heard that his friend had decided to +seek reform and the welfare of the race "under the banner" of the +opposing party. And again, while considering whether all patriots +ought not to follow so eminent an example, it learned that the +desponding soul who had had the courage to face obloquy and change his +party relations had only done so after prolonged and fruitless efforts +to secure official place under his old party. Had he obtained it that +party would still have seemed to him resolute, patriotic, and +discerning, and he would have continued to serve his country in the +association to which he had become accustomed. +</p> + +<p> +There is no South American general who overthrows a government and +enthrones himself as dictator upon the ruins who does not announce +with imposing solemnity that the old system was intolerable, and that +the interests of humanity and the country required him to do as he had +done. Not one of them was ever known to declare that he had destroyed +the old government because he wished to be the government himself. The +two friends of the Easy Chair had sincerely sophisticated themselves, +and identified their personal advantage and wishes with the public +interest. If they had told the precise truth they would have said that +they wanted office, and if they could not get it from one party they +would try another. When a man is conscious of a strong desire and of +great ability to serve the public, this kind of sophistication is +easy. That which should make a generous man suspicious under such +circumstances is that he confounds official position with public +service. The latter, indeed, is in a sense a technical phrase; but a +man may equally serve the public unofficially by taking his part in +the necessary and disagreeable details of practical politics. If he +will not do this he must share the responsibility of bad government. +</p> + +<p> +Yet here, again, he must not be discouraged if his efforts appear to +be abortive and the results ridiculous. The secret of a republic seems +abstractly to be very simple, for it is merely that all good men shall +act together and elect good officers. But good men cannot act together +if they do not think together, and the best method of obtaining +results which all desire is the very problem of politics. All good men +cannot act together, therefore, because good men differ. But even the +good men who agree cannot easily and simply have their way, because +political measures can be secured only by organization, and the +organization, or the machine by which the result is to be attained, +may very readily fall into crafty or corrupt hands, which will use the +sincerity and pure purpose of better men to serve base and mercenary +ends. The first of the two friends of the Easy Chair was used in this +manner. He was sincere and pure, but he was vain, and therefore weak, +and the clever managers hit him in the heel. +</p> + +<p> +Again, a man may be wholly free of weakness or vanity, and, without +the least personal wish or ambition in public life, may take part in +politics solely from a commanding sense of duty, and yet find himself +and his efforts not only unavailing for his own purposes, but +ludicrously and hopelessly perverted to serve those of others. +Honestus was such a man: in the truest sense a patriot in feeling, yet +he confessed that he had hitherto neglected his political duties, but +declared that henceforth he would lose no opportunity of correcting +his conduct. He saw with joy the notice of an approaching primary +meeting, and when the evening arrived he hastened to the hall with the +pleasing consciousness that he was discharging a great public duty. He +reached the hall, and was heartily welcomed by the observant managers, +whom, had Titbottom's spectacles been at hand, he would have seen to +be foxes--at least. They were very glad indeed to see Honestus and men +like him engaging in politics. They saw in that fact the augury of a +better day. It was a peculiar pleasure to co-operate with him, and +they trusted that this was but the beginning of a good habit upon his +part. Honestus could not help thinking how easy it was to exaggerate, +and to suppose men to be a great deal worse than they are, and +wondered that he had never before taken the trouble--or, rather, +fulfilled the duty--of attending the primary meeting. +</p> + +<p> +The proceedings began, and he was exceedingly interested. Officers +were appointed, and it was evident from their speeches that nothing +but honesty and economy was to be sought, and only men of the most +spotless character nominated. But it was necessary to have a committee +upon nominations; and to his surprise and gratification Honestus heard +his own name mentioned as one of the committee, and almost blushed as +he was appointed its chairman. The committee was requested to +withdraw, and to report the names of candidates as soon as possible. +</p> + +<p> +Honestus and his colleagues therefore retired to a dim +passage-way--where, as he subsequently remarked, he should have been +rather alarmed to meet either of them at night and alone--and business +began. Various names were mentioned, of which, unfortunately, Honestus +had never heard one; and at length one of the most positive of the +committee said, emphatically, that, upon the whole, Sly was the very +man for the place. There was a general murmur of assent and +satisfaction. Honestus heard on every side that it was "just the +thing;" that Sly was "an A1 boy," and that he was "always there;" he +was also "square," and "right up to the line;" and by common consent +Sly seemed to be the Heaven-appointed candidate. +</p> + +<p> +Rather disturbed by his total ignorance of this conspicuous public +character, Honestus turned to his neighbor and said, guardedly, with +the air of a man who was musing upon Sly's qualifications, "Oh, +Sly--Sly?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said his neighbor, "Sly." +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly," replied Honestus; "certainly. But--who--is--Sly?" +</p> + +<p> +His neighbor looked at him for a moment, and repeated the question in +a tone of incredulity--"<i>Who is Sly?</i>"--as if he had said, Who is +George Washington? +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; I don't think that I know him." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't know Sly?" +</p> + +<p> +"No." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, if you did know him, you'd know that he's just the man we want; +bang up; made for it." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, is he?" +</p> + +<p> +"You bet--A1." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said the member who had first announced that Sly was the very +man for the place, "I suppose they'll be waiting. I nominate Sly as +the candidate." +</p> + +<p> +The chairman said yes, but that, unfortunately for himself, he did not +know Mr. Sly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you don't know anything against him, do you?" asked the other. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly not." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, we all know him, and he is the very man. We ought to hurry." +</p> + +<p> +Honestus put the question, and Sly was unanimously named as the +candidate to be reported to the meeting by the chairman. +</p> + +<p> +The meeting was already stamping and clapping and calling for the +committee, and the energetic mover of Sly said that it was necessary +to go in right away. The committee made for the hall, and the chairman +followed. He knew nothing of Sly nor of the people who had named him, +and he knew nobody else whom he could propose for the place. Honestus +felt very much as a leaf might feel upon the fall at Niagara, and in +the next moment the chairman of the meeting was asking him if the +committee were ready to report. The chairman of the committee bowed. +The chairman of the meeting said that the report would now be made. +Honestus stated that he was instructed to report the name of Sly. The +meeting roared. There was some thumping by the chairman, and Honestus +heard only the name of Sly and "by acclamation," and a whirlwind of +calls upon "Sly!" "Sly!" "Speech!" "Speech!" The next moment Sly, with +a large diamond pin, was upon the platform thanking and promising, and +the meeting was stormily cheering and adjourning <i>sine die</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Honestus walked quietly home, perceiving that the result of his +practical effort to discharge the primary duties of a citizen was that +Sly, one of the most disreputable and dishonest of public sharks, had +been nominated by a committee of which he was chairman, and that the +whole weight of the name of Honestus was thrown upon the side of +rascality with a diamond pin. And he reflected that in politics, as +elsewhere, it is necessary to begin as early in preparation for action +as the rascals. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he did not lose his faith, nor suppose that popular government is +a cheat and a snare, because he had been involuntarily made the +instrument of knaves. Honestus understands that good government is one +of the best things in the world, and he knows that good things of that +kind are not cheap. He is willing to pay the price, and the price is +the trouble to ascertain who Sly is, and the time to do his part in +defeating Sly. For Honestus knows that if he does not rule, Sly will. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="x">THALBERG AND OTHER PIANISTS, 1871.</a></h2> + +<p> +It was about fifteen years ago that Thalberg, who has just died only +fifty-nine years old, was in this country. Jenny Lind had been here +some years earlier, and Alboni and Grisi a little later, and +Vieuxtemps and Sivori and Ole Bull a dozen years before. Jullien, with +his monster orchestra, had given monstrous concerts in the monstrous +hall of Castle Garden, and many a musician of less fame had come to +try his fortune. But we had had neither of the acknowledged masters of +the piano, the founders of the modern school of playing--Liszt and +Thalberg. Liszt, spoiled and capricious, played very seldom. Chopin, +more a composer than a performer, we in America had never supposed +would cross the sea: so sensitive, so delicate, so shadowy, his life +seemed to exhale, a passionate sigh of music. In the stormy, +blood-soaked, ruined Paris of to-day it is not easy to imagine those +evenings at the Prince Czartoryski's, when Chopin played in the +moonlight the mazurkas and polonaises and waltzes which moonlight or +dreams seem often to have inspired, but through which the proud +movement of the old Polish dance and song triumphantly rings. +</p> + +<p> +In George Sand's <i>Letters of a Traveller</i> Chopin also appears, but +sadly and hopelessly. What Xavier de Maistre says of the Fornarina and +Raphael is the undertone of all the passages of the book that speak of +Chopin--"She loved her love more than her lover." Then came the burial +at the Madeleine, with his own funeral march beating time to his +grave. The mere pianist who had aroused the most enthusiasm in this +country was Leopold de Meyer, who came more than twenty years ago. His +was a blithe, exhilarating style. There was a grotesque little plaster +cast of him in the shop-windows at the time, representing him +crouching over the instrument, with enormous hands spread upon the +keyboard, and his fat knees crowding in to cover all the rest of the +space. It was slam-bang playing, but so skilful, and with such a +tickling melody, that it was irresistibly popular. His "Marche +Marocaine," a brilliant <i>tour de force</i>, was always sure to captivate +the audience; and his success was indisputable. +</p> + +<p> +De Meyer's concerts were sometimes given in the old Tabernacle in +Broadway, near Leonard Street, the circular church which for so many +years was the chief public hall in the city. The platform was almost +in the centre, and the aisles radiated from it. The galleries went +quite around the building, and, except for the huge columns which +supported a dome, it was convenient both for hearing and seeing. Here +were some of the great antislavery meetings in the hottest days of the +agitation. The anniversaries were held here, and it was the scene of +all popular lectures and of concerts. A few blocks above, upon +Broadway, near Canal Street, was the old Apollo Hall, where the first +Philharmonic concerts took place. In those early days of the German +music--days which followed the City Hotel epoch and the Garcia +opera--people were so unaccustomed to the proprieties of the +concert-room that the Easy Chair has even known some persons to +whisper and giggle during the performance of the finest symphonies of +Beethoven and Mozart, and so excessively rude as to rustle out of the +hall before the last piece was ended. +</p> + +<p> +Upon one such occasion it said to its neighbor, as they were coming +out: +</p> + +<p> +"It is a pity such ill-mannered people should thrust themselves among +ladies and gentlemen." +</p> + +<p> +"Ill-mannered!" quoth its neighbor; "I assure you they are carriage +company from the neighborhood of Union Square." +</p> + +<p> +In these days of universal respectful attention at the Philharmonic +concerts it is but a curious reminiscence of long-passed boorishness, +this of persons who whispered and giggled, and rustled out before the +end, at concerts, to the disturbance of all mannerly people. +</p> + +<p> +As the city grew the concerts came up-town, and were for some time +given at Niblo's concert-room. But, wherever they were, one person was +for many years constantly familiar, sometimes as general director, +sometimes as pianist to accompany singing, always modest, courteous, +and efficient, a man widely and most kindly remembered--Henry C. Timm. +Like most of our musical benefactors, he was a German, and gave +lessons in piano-playing. He was not one of the great virtuosos, but +his touch was delicate and nimble, and he had a sincere love of his +art. Often and often, at a house always pleasant from that +reminiscence, with the consent of parent and pupil, and to his own +great delight, the hour designed for the scholar's scales and +exercises was given to the master's playing. He was fond of Weber's +"Invitation to the Waltz," and he played it with force and precision +and the utmost delicacy. Mr. Timm had a pale, smooth, sharp face, a +rather prim manner, and a quick, modest gait. He was most +simple-hearted, and loved a joke; and his fun was all the more +effective from his very sober face and his lisp. It was his wife who +was long the most efficient actress at Mitchell's old Olympic in the +palmy days of burlesque. +</p> + +<p> +It was at Niblo's that Thalberg played. Many of the virtuosos had +been--like De Meyer--so extravagant in their action, and so evidently +what we now call "sensational," that there was great curiosity to see +the master whose name had been familiar since 1830, and famous since +1835, when he first played in Paris. The comparative estimate of the +two men, Liszt and Thalberg, was that the former was a player of +eccentric genius, the latter of consummate talent: a judgment which is +very apt to spring from a superficial theory that eccentricity is the +signet of genius. The long hair, the wild aspect of Paganini, did much +to confirm this feeling. +</p> + +<p> +At the concerts of Thalberg there were some preliminary performances, +and then a gentleman with side whiskers and no mustache, +unostentatiously dressed, entered upon the platform. His manner was +grave and tranquil, and he bowed respectfully as he seated himself at +the instrument. Immediately, without a flourish or grimace, steadily +and calmly watching the audience, he touched the piano, and it began +to sing. There was no pounding, no muscular contortion. Nothing but +his hands seemed to be engaged, and apparently without effort they +exhausted the whole force of the instrument. It was in every respect +except its great effectiveness the reverse of De Meyer's playing. The +effect, indeed, was astonishing. When the player arose, as quietly and +gravely as he had seated himself, there was a tumult of applause, to +which he bowed and tranquilly withdrew. +</p> + +<p> +The characteristic of his style is well known. It was a series of +harmonious combinations of all the resources of the key-board, through +which the melody was clearly articulated. It was by study and by long +practice only that he carried this method to its perfection. Thus in +one of his great fantasias, that from Mozart's "Don Giovanni," the +sentiment of the whole opera was reproduced. Perhaps you do not admire +brilliant variations upon a theme selected from the opera, but in this +performance you are affected by the passionate movement of the entire +work. It is a wonderful epitome. The same respect which he showed for +his audience and for himself, and which made him always a +self-possessed gentleman, he also had for his instrument. De Meyer +seemed to suppose that the full range and power of the piano could not +be developed except by grotesque methods. Other players treat it as if +impatient of its limitations, and resolved to make an orchestra of a +feeble key-board. But Thalberg instinctively apprehended the character +of the instrument, and respected its limitations as well as its +powers, and knew that its utmost resource was attainable by skilled +motion rather than by brute force. Therefore he played with his hands, +and not with his knees and his body. But the force of his fingers was +magical, and the volume of sound that followed was as great as any +player evoked. +</p> + +<p> +Thalberg was a player only, and not, in the sense of Chopin, a +composer. What are called his compositions are arrangements and +adaptations of themes from operas treated to develop them with all the +richness of the instrument. The originality is in the method of +instrumentation, and in this he was original, and is really the +founder of the present piano school. As a player his characteristic +was the cantabile--the singing quality; and this he had beyond all +players. The flowing sweetness of his style is indescribable. There +were many, indeed, who complained of a want of fire, and denied him +that passion without which no work of art is perfect. But it was +impossible to hear him play his fantasia from "Don Giovanni," for +instance, without perceiving all the passion of the original. Mozart +was not lost under his hands. And the impression of coldness was +largely due, doubtless, to the tranquillity and propriety of his +appearance and manner. +</p> + +<p> +The most generally popular of his successors at the piano in this +country was undoubtedly Gottschalk, who was here quite as early as +Thalberg, whose fame eclipsed all others. Upon his arrival Gottschalk +played privately at a small party. He was a foreign-looking youth, +with a peculiarly dull eye, and taciturn, but he was familiar with +every kind of music. When he was asked he played Chopin, and with +great skill. But his chief successes were his West Indian melodies, +which were full of picturesque suggestion. His execution was rapid, +brilliant, and forcible, but a great deal of his playing was too +evidently <i>tours de force</i>. It was always interesting to watch his +audience, when, upon being recalled, he began one of the West Indian +strains. There was a minor monotonous theme in them which fascinated +the listeners. They heard the beat of the tambourine, and saw the +movement of the dance, and with them all the characteristic scenery +and association of the tropics filled their imaginations. The languid +grace, the rich indolence, the gay profusion of the lands where the +banana grows, they felt and saw. +</p> + +<p> +How many admirable players and singers have come among us! And when, +as now, one drops through the bridge of Mirza, a host of Easy Chairs +pause for a moment to remember how many there were, and to delight in +thinking how many more there will be. Once it was the sailor who +crossed the sea to find El Dorado and Cathay, now it is the artist who +follows in the fascinating quest. But sailor and artist seeking gold +in far countries, like the pollen-powdered bee sucking honey in the +flowers, bring as rare a treasure as they find. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xi">URBS AND RUS.</a></h2> + +<p> +Mr. Tibs, who has an observing eye for many aspects of life, lately +informed the Easy Chair of his conclusion that there are some serious +objections to a suburban residence. This is a subject in which so many +intelligent and judicious readers of these pages are interested, that +the Easy Chair could not be indifferent to Mr. Tibs's conclusions. The +population which "sleeps out of town," which goes and comes daily to +and from the neighborhood of every great city in every part of the +country, is immense and increasing, and it has always rather an air of +lofty sympathy and pity for those who still cling to the "sweet +seclusion of streets." This is the more observable and amusing because +the denizens of town upon their part assume that their fellow-creatures +who resort to the country as a residence are mainly impelled by +motives of economy. For who would live out of town if he could live +comfortably in it? +</p> + +<p> +"You must find it very annoying to be tied to exact hours of trains +and boats," says Urbs to Rus, "and it is not the pleasantest thing in +the world to be obliged to pick your way through the river streets to +the ferry, or wait at stations. However, you probably calculated the +waste of time and the trouble before you decided to live in Frogtown." +</p> + +<p> +"Every choice has its inconveniences, undoubtedly," responds Rus, "but +I concluded that I preferred fresh air for my children to the +atmosphere of sewers and gas factories, and I have a prejudice for +breakfasting by sunlight rather than by gas. Then my wife enjoys the +singing of birds in the morning more than the cry of the milkman, and +the silence at night secures a sweeter sleep than the rattle of the +horse-cars. It is true that we have no brick block opposite, and no +windows of houses behind commanding our own. But to set off such +deprivations there are pleasant hills and wooded slopes and gardens. +They are not sidewalks, to be sure, but they satisfy us." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes; I see," says Urbs. "We are more to be pitied than I +thought. If we must go out in the evening, we don't have the advantage +of stumbling over hummocks and sinking in the mud or dust in the dark; +we can only go dry-shod upon clean flagging abundantly lighted. Then +we have nothing but Thomas's orchestra and the opera and the bright +little theatre to console us for the loss of the frog and tree-toad +concert and the tent-circus. Instead of plodding everywhere upon our +own feet, which is so pleasant after running round upon them all day +in town, we have nothing but cars and stages at hand to carry us to +our own doors. I see clearly there are great disadvantages in city +life. If a friend and his wife drop in suddenly in the evening or to +dine, it is monstrously inconvenient to have an oyster-shop round the +corner whence to improvise a supper or a dinner. It would be so much +better to have nothing but the village grocery a mile or two away. The +advantages are conspicuous. I wonder the entire population of the city +doesn't go out to live in Frogtown." +</p> + +<p> +Rus always feels in secret that he is at a disadvantage so long as he +must go to town every day to attend to his business. He reasons +plausibly that the train or the boat is no more than the horse-car, +and he proves conclusively that he can be at his office within half an +hour of his friend who lives in Fiftieth Street. But his friend +irritatingly replies that on pleasant mornings he prefers not to take +the car. He walks down in the bright air and through the busy street. +With twinkling and triumphant eyes he invites Rus to do the same. +</p> + +<p> +Rus gayly replies that the sun is quite as bright upon green fields as +upon brick blocks or stone flagging, and the shifting panorama from +the car window is a lovely picture. Urbs assents, and adds that the +dust and cinders also give great zest to the enjoyment, and that +dragging through tunnels is full of delight and beauty. +</p> + +<p> +But the real sorrow that Rus feels has not yet been touched. It is the +grief which Mr. Tibs has observed and confided to the Easy Chair. It +haunts his happy hours with sad foreboding. He cannot look from his +window but he sees it. He cannot celebrate the charms of country and +suburban life but it seems to mock him. It turns his joy to ashes. He +looks upon the wife of his bosom with anguish as he thinks of it. He +gazes ruefully into his children's eyes; pretty innocents, they know +naught of the impending blow. It is a Shadow, as Thackeray would have +solemnly said, with Bulwerian impressiveness, which Pursues Him at Mid +Day. It Awakens Him at Mid Night, and Says to Him, Sleep No More! What +is it, do you ask? inquires Mr. Tibs, in his most startling manner. +Brethren, 'tis the fell hand of improvement. That is it. It is that +which harrows the suburban soul and destroys suburban peace. No man +who lives in the neighborhood of the city, or in any little +settlement, community, hamlet, thorp, village, or town which is +occupied with people doing business in the city, but is exposed in his +rural retirement, in his suburban home, to the ravages of improvement. +</p> + +<p> +There are suburban neighborhoods of New York which are said to be +subject to malaria, to fever and ague. It is false, as every denizen +of Bay Ridge and Flushing knows. There are others which are alleged to +be a prey to mosquitoes and chills. 'Tis a base fabrication, as every +Staten Islander and dweller by the Newark marshes is ready to swear. +It is notorious, and is established upon the very best authority, +namely, that of the inhabitants of the districts themselves, that no +shores are so salubrious as those of the bay of New York. Strict +justice, indeed, demands--and to nothing so much as strict justice and +truthfulness in these matters are the peaceful people of those shores +devoted--strict justice and truth demand that it should not be denied +that single, exceptional, but upon the whole sufficiently well +attested cases of malarial trouble have been known. But they were +always brought from abroad, probably from that losel Yankee-land from +which most of the woe of New York has proceeded. While, therefore, it +is a wanton calumny--and the corroboration of all suburban +property-holders is invited to the statement--to assert that any +portion of the neighborhood of New York, or of any other great city, +let it be Philadelphia, Chicago, or St. Louis, Boston, Baltimore, or +Savannah, is subject to malaria, or is otherwise than the true +sanitarium of the continent, yet it must be owned with sorrow that +every suburban region is infested with the spirit of improvement. +</p> + +<p> +Edwin and Angelina were married yesterday, and will devote their +honey-moon to the quest of a place in which to build their permanent +nest. They find it at last in the most delightful of suburban +neighborhoods. They build the pretty cottage. They spread out smooth +green lawns, and plant trees and shrubs, and hide themselves in +flowers. They have made a sweet sylvan seclusion, in which they sit +and smile at the eloquence of Urbs, who pities their exile and depicts +the charm of streets. Streets are charming, respond Edwin and Angelina +in connubial chorus, but we will have none of them. Fond, foolish +pair! For even at that moment the desolating spirit of improvement is +staking out a street across their most emerald lawn and through their +most sacred grove; their trees and flowers and turf are doomed, and +their seclusion is to be turned into a dusty highway. +</p> + +<p> +Suburban improvement is the ruthless devastator of home. There is no +remedy. To oppose the ruin of the place which you have carefully made, +which has grown around you in increasing beauty with the growth and +development of your family, which is associated with all that is +happiest in your life, and which is in some sort the flowering and +expression of yourself, is to be derided as withstanding the public +benefit and the advantage of those less fortunate than yourself. The +instinct of protecting the home that you have made is denounced as +sentimental selfishness, and the law steps forward, cuts down your +trees, plows up your lawn, lays a gutter under your window, destroys +your home, and hands you some dollars for what it calls compensation, +or demands them for what it styles improvement. +</p> + +<p> +I am of opinion, therefore, says Mr. Tibs, and the Easy Chair commends +the reflection to those intending matrimony and thinking of a country +home, that there are some serious objections to a suburban residence. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xii">RIP VAN WINKLE.</a></h2> + +<p> +Going the other evening to see "Rip Van Winkle," the old question of +its moral naturally came up, and Portia warmly asserted that it was +shameful to bring young children to see a play in which the exquisite +skill of Jefferson threw a glamour upon the sorriest vice. +</p> + +<p> +"See," she said, "the earnest, tearful interest with which these boys +and girls near us hang upon the story. The charm to them of the scene +and of the acting is indescribable. Do you suppose they can escape the +effect? All their sympathy is kindled for the good-natured and +good-for-nothing reprobate, and when Gretchen turns him out into the +night and the storm, they cannot help feeling that it is she, not he, +who has ruined the home, and that the drunken vagabond, who has just +made his endearments the cover of deception, is really the victim of a +virago. And when he returns, old and decrepit, and, we might hope, +purged of that fatal appetite which has worked all the woe, it is his +old victim, the woman whose youth his evil habits ruined, and who, in +consequence of those habits was driven into the power of the +tormentor, Derrick von Beekman, who hands him 'the cup that shall be +death in tasting,' as if it were she, and not he, who had been +properly chastened and converted from the fatal error of supposing +that drunkenness is not a good thing. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no," said Portia, indignantly and eloquently, raising her voice +to that degree that the Easy Chair feared to hear the appalling "'sh! +'sh!" of the disturbed neighbors; "it is a grossly immoral spectacle, +and the subtler and more fascinating the genius of Mr. Jefferson in +the representation, the more deadly is the effect." +</p> + +<p> +The drop had just fallen, and the scene on the mountains was about to +open. The house had been darkened, and as the clear, quiet, unforced +tone of Rip, yielding, not remonstrating, to the doom that we all knew +and he did not, fell upon the hushed audience, the eyes of men and +women were full of tears; while the orchestra murmured, <i>mezzo voce</i>, +during the storm within and without the house, the tenderly pathetic +melody of the "Lorelei:" +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "I know not what it presages,<br> + This heart with sadness fraught;<br> + 'Tis a tale of the olden ages<br> + That will not from my thought." +</p> + +<p> +It was not easy to find in the emotion of that moment a response to +Portia's accusation of gross immorality. There was but a poetic figure +in the mind--the sweet-natured, weak-willed, simple-hearted vagabond +of the village and the mountain--touching the heart with pity, and, in +the drunken scene, with sorrow. This figure excludes all the rest. Its +symmetry and charm are the triumph of the play as acted. Now the +immorality can not lie in the kindly feeling for the tippling +vagabond, for that is natural and universal. Indeed, the same kind of +weakness that leads to a habit of tippling belongs often to the most +charming and attractive natures, and the representation of the fact +upon the stage is not in itself immoral. The immorality must be found, +if anywhere, as Portia insisted, in the charm with which vice is +invested. +</p> + +<p> +But is it so invested in this play? It used to be urged against +Bulwer's early novels that they made scoundrels fascinating, and that +boys after reading them would prefer rascals to honest men. If that +had been the fact, the novels would have been justly open to that +censure. But, tried by this standard, Rip Van Winkle, as Mr. Jefferson +plays it, is far from an immoral play. The picture as he paints it is +moral in the same sense that nature is moral. No man, shiftless, idle, +and drunken, afraid to go home, ashamed before his children, without +self-respect or the regard of others, however gentle and sweet, and +however much a favorite with the boys and girls and animals he may be, +is a man whose courses those boys will wish to imitate or who will +make vice more tasteful to them. The pathos of the second part of the +play, in which the change of age mingled with mystery is marvellously +portrayed, is largely due to the consciousness that this melancholy +end is all due to that woful beginning. The expulsion of Derrick and +his nephew is nothing, the happiness of Meenie and her lover is +nothing, the release of Gretchen is nothing, there is only a wasted +old man, without companions, the long prime of whose life has been +lost in unconsciousness, and who, suddenly awaking, looks at us +pitifully from the edge of the grave. +</p> + +<p> +By the most prosaic standards this should not seem to adorn vice with +attraction. It is true that the spectator is more interested in Rip +than in his wife, and that she is made a virago. But it is not his +drunkenness that charms, and her virtue is at least severe. Indeed, if +this performance is to be tried by this standard, the play must be +regarded as a temperance mission. For temperance is to be inculcated +upon the youthful spectators who sit near us not so much by stories +and pictures of the furious brute who drives wife and children from a +home made desolate by him, and who fly from him as from a demon, as by +this simple, faithful showing of the kind-hearted loiterer who makes +wretched a wife who yet loves him, and who denounces himself to the +child that he loves. This is the fair view of it as a picture of +ordinary human life. +</p> + +<p> +But, as we look, the low wail of the sad music is in our ears, the +scene changes to a weird world of faery, the story merges in a dream, +and Rip Van Winkle smiles at us from a realm beyond the diocese of +conscience. If conscience, indeed, will obtrude, conscience shall be +satisfied. It is a sermon if you will, but if you will, also, it is a +poem. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xiii">A CHINESE CRITIC.</a></h2> + +<p> +The Easy Chair was agreeably surprised the other day by a call from a +yellowish-visaged gentleman in a queue, who announced himself as of +the family of Lien Chi Altangi, a name which the reader will recall as +that of the Chinese philosopher and citizen of the world whose letters +of observation in England were edited by Dr. Goldsmith. After the +natural courtesies of such a meeting, and the Easy Chair's compliments +upon the shrewdness and charm of his distinguished ancestor's +observations, the Chinese gentleman fell into easy conversation, and +was congratulated upon his singular familiarity with our language. He +remarked that it was always an advantage to a traveller to know the +language of the country, and he had no doubt that so travelling a +people as the American were of the same opinion. "And as you travel +over the world more generally than any other people," he said, "I +presume that you are generally familiar with many languages." The Easy +Chair bowed, and cleared its throat, and smiled, and said, "Oh +yes--probably--undoubtedly." +</p> + +<p> +"Yours is a very great country," the visitor politely returned, "and +this city is indeed magnificent. It promises one day to rival Pekin, +at least in extent and population. The pleasure of seeing your great +men--the great men of so great a city, I mean--must be very unusual, +and I should be infinitely your debtor if you would accompany me to +your temple of civic greatness--your City Hall, as I understand you +call it. Your popular institutions, as we are told in China, are +intended to secure worthy governors of the people by the votes of the +people themselves. It is exceedingly interesting, and I am very +anxious to study the working of your institutions in your chief city." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair bowed and cleared its throat again, and answered that +the study of the city was certainly very interesting, but without +proffering to escort the travelling philosopher to the City Hall, it +contented itself with remarking that ours is a very great country, and +that its institutions are unequalled in the world. +</p> + +<p> +"I have met no American who is not of that opinion," courteously +returned the Chinese gentleman, "and I was pleased to see upon a visit +to your Washington and Fulton markets a noble illustration of the +generous and becoming manner in which such important parts of your +municipal institutions are managed." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair answered that it was not that kind of institution which +it had intended by its remark. +</p> + +<p> +"Possibly you allude to another great institution which I have +visited," returned the traveller, with exquisite courtesy. "You justly +pride yourself upon your advances in sanitary science, and I am a +devout pilgrim seeking enlightenment. Judge, then, with what pleasure +I saw your chief temple of the customs. What convenience and economy +of arrangement! How singularly fitted for its purpose! You are indeed +a great people. I passed into the main circular hall, and what purity +of atmosphere, what admirable ventilation, what refreshing coolness +and sweetness; it is, indeed, a sanitarium; nor can I wonder that you +are proud of your progress and achievements in this science. But when +I learned that the officers engaged in the public service in this +temple, in the business of various accounts, and in determining the +value of the products of the whole world, were appointed to the duty +because of their zeal in providing candidates for offices and +procuring votes for them, I was lost in admiration of institutions +under which zealous shouting and running are evidence of skill to +embroider muslin and to calculate interest. Truly you are a great +people, and your institutions overflow with wisdom." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair bowed and smiled, but the precise terms of an +appropriate reply did not suggest themselves, until, remembering what +was due to its native land, it began: "There can, however, illustrious +son of Lien Chi Altangi, be no doubt that we are a very great and +superior people, and that we have a very just pity and contempt for +all the unhappy victims of the effete despotisms and hoary empires of +the older world--not that we believe the other continents to be +actually older, for our own favored continent doubtless emerged first +from chaos, but it is an expression which, with the generosity of our +institutions, we are willing to tolerate." +</p> + +<p> +"I cannot deny your greatness," politely said the yellowish-visaged +gentleman, "and far be it from me to question your superiority. It was +but yesterday evening that I attended a social assembly which was +described to me as a full-undress party, and as I entered and beheld +many of the other sex, I was struck by the accuracy of the +description. As I promenaded through the brilliant throng with one of +the loveliest of your young persons of that sex, she said to me, with +a bewitching smile, 'Dear Mr. Altangi, is it true that Chinese women +squeeze their feet for beauty? How very funny!' +</p> + +<p> +"She panted as she spoke, and I saw that her body was evidently +incased in some kind of rigid and unyielding garment, and that her +waist was surely not the waist of nature. I gazed as intently as +decorum would permit--for I am but a student of cities and of men--and +I was sure that my lovely companion's body was more cruelly compressed +than the feet of my adorable countrywomen, and her panting breath was +but evidence of the justice of my observation. I asked her with +sympathy if I could not call some companion to relieve her, or, if the +case were urgent, whether I could not myself offer succor. But she +gazed at me as if I spoke a strange language, and smilingly asked my +meaning. +</p> + +<p> +"'Dear miss,' I said, 'are you not in great suffering?' 'Not at all,' +she replied, and I paid homage to her heroism. 'I know not, dear miss, +whether to admire more the greatness of your heroism or the generosity +of your sympathy. While you are in torment yourself, your tender +interest goes forth to my countrywomen in what you believe to be +torture. Be comforted, dear miss; the anguish of a squeezed foot is +not comparable to that of a waist so cruelly confined as yours, and +the consequences, also, are not to be compared.' If human bodies in +your great and happy country are made like ours in China, certainly, +Mr. Easy Chair, I must acknowledge that in heroic endurance of the +cruelty of fashion your country is indeed pre-eminent." +</p> + +<p> +There seemed to be such a singular misapprehension upon the part of +the courteous visitor that the Easy Chair was beginning again to +explain--"Yes, but the indisputable superiority of our glorious +country"--when the son of Altangi interrupted, with suavity: +"Certainly. I was about to add that while my fair companion insisted +that I should confess the pinching of the feet to be a heinous folly, +if not, as she was plainly disposed to believe, a crime, my eye was +arrested by another lightly and lowly draped figure of the same sex +advancing towards us with an uncertain, hobbling step so like the gait +of the lovely Chinese maidens of almond eyes that again I watched +intently, and I saw that not only was this sylph drawn out of all +natural form at the waist, but that she was attempting to walk in +little shoes supported upon high pivots called heels under the centre +of the feet. It was an ingenious combination of torture and +helplessness, to which no social circle in my native land offers a +parallel. It is a wonderful achievement, due, I have no doubt, Mr. +Easy Chair, to the manifest superiority of your great country, and +plainly a striking illustration of it. Yet it is interesting and +touching that the maidens of your politer circles, gasping in pinched +waists, and balancing and tottering on pivots under their shoes, +should inquire with so amused an air about the squeezed feet of +Chinese ladies. I pay you my compliments, Mr. Easy Chair, upon your +extraordinary country." The urbanity of the visitor was perfect. The +Easy Chair looked at his eyes to see if they twinkled, but they had +only a bland regard; and as it was beginning again--"Nevertheless, +sir, you will admit that the superiority of our institutions"--there +seemed to be so positive an approach to twinkling in the Chinese eyes +that the Easy Chair paused, smiled, and then said: "Worthy son of Lien +Chi Altangi, thy words enlighten the mind, even as those of thy +ancestor illuminated the minds of our fathers over the sea. By their +light I read the meaning of the saying that in my youth I heard in the +valleys of the Tyrol, 'Beyond the mountains there are men also.'" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xiv">HOLIDAY SAUNTERING.</a></h2> + +<p> +The richness and profusion and variety of the Christmas shops in a +great city, the sack of the treasures of the whole earth, which +furnish such splendid spoil, recall a remark of Buckle. He says that +the history of the world shows enormous progress in all kinds of +knowledge, in institutions, in commerce and manufactures, and in every +pursuit of human activity, but not in knowledge of moral principle. +The most ancient wisdom in morals is also the most modern. Time and +the progress of civilization have added nothing to the demands of the +conscience or to moral perception. The golden rule is an axiom of the +most ancient wisdom. +</p> + +<p> +These are bewildering speculations as we stroll along Fourteenth +Street and loiter in Twenty-third Street, which, at the holiday +season, have especially the aspect of a fair or a fascinating bazaar. +The whole world is tributary to Santa Claus. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Nothing we see but means our good,<br> + As our delight or as our treasure;<br> + The whole is either our cupboard of food<br> + Or cabinet of pleasure." +</p> + +<p> +Invention and science have put a girdle about the globe fitly to +decorate Christmas. Diedrich Knickerbocker, in his cocked hat and +flowered coat, had heard of Japan, perhaps, as a romance of Prester +John. But it would have been a wilder romance for him to imagine his +grandchildren dealing at the feast of St. Nicholas with Japanese +merchants in Japanese shops upon the soil of his own Manhattan and on +the very road to Tappan Zee. Hendrik Hudson might have been reasonably +expected to run down from the Catskills with a picked crew to vend +Hollands for the great feast. But Cipango--! +</p> + +<p> +Yes; we have subdued distance, we are plucking out even the heart of +Africa. As the streets of Bokhara when the fairs were held were piled +with the stuffs of many a province and thronged by merchants of every +hue, so the streets of New York at Christmas show that we have taken +the whole earth to drop into our Christmas stocking. The festival +might be fitly celebrated by coming to the city merely to walk the +streets and +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "view the manners of the town,<br> + Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings." +</p> + +<p> +Happily the eye can appropriate all the treasures that it would be +theft for the hand to touch. +</p> + +<p> +Corydon, sauntering with Amaryllis, and staring with her at the +wonderful windows, may be a prince by proxy. "Those pearls," he +whispers, "the diver plunged into Oman's dark waters to find for you. +They are so far on their way, adored Amaryllis. They have reached your +eyes, if not yet your ears. Let me but be rich--and I expect at least +five dollars for my first fee--let the world but discover that in me +the Law, whose seat is the bosom of God, has a new Mansfield, another +Marshall, and yonder pearls shall circle the virgin neck for which +they were predestined. Or do you prefer the diamonds behind the next +pane? Or shall Santa Claus sweetly capture both for you, one for state +dress and splendor, one for days less rigorous, not of purple velvets +and flowered brocades, but summer draperies of soft lace?" +</p> + +<p> +So the Marchioness and the gay Swiveller, with their happy gift of +transforming a shred of lemon-peel and copious libations of pure water +into nectar, might have walked the Christmas streets of New York as +those of Ormus and of Ind. Lafayette, with the gold snuff-box in which +the freedom of the city was presented to him, could not have been +freer of it. The happy loiterers could see all the beautiful things, +and what could they do more if they should buy them all? Like the kind +people at Newport in the summer, who spare no vast expense to build +noble houses and lay out exquisite grounds and drive in sumptuous +carriages and wear clothes so fine and take pains so costly and +elaborate to please the idle loiterer of a day, who gazes from the +street-car or the omnibus or the sidewalk, so the good holiday +merchants present the enchanting spectacle of their treasures freely +to every penniless saunterer, but for the same enjoyment they demand +of the rich an enormous price. The poor rich must bear also all the +responsibility of possession and care, and cannot be secured against +theft or loss. +</p> + +<p> +The splendid streets beguile us from our question. In the brilliant +bazaars we are recalling the New York of silence and solitary woods +and roving Indians--the New York that the Dutch settlers bought from +the Indians for twenty-four dollars, and which is now the city that we +behold, the metropolis of the State of which Mr. Draper, its +Superintendent of Public Instruction, asks, "Who shall say that these +six millions of people are not better housed, better fed, better +clothed, more generally educated, more active in affairs, better +equipped for self-government than any other entire people numbering +six millions, unless it be other citizens of our own country, +surrounded by the same circumstances and conditions?" Not the Easy +Chair, certainly. On the contrary, it says Amen. +</p> + +<p> +But is Buckle right? Are the six millions as much better morally than +the first six millions of their white ancestors upon the continent, as +they are better clothed, better educated, and better housed? Are they +only materially better? Have they better poets, better artists, than +the Greeks, than Dante, than Shakespeare, than Raphael and Michael +Angelo? Have they wiser men than Plato, Aristotle, Bacon? Have they +higher standards of conduct than those of Confucius and the Hindoos? A +hundred years ago the pilgrim was sometimes a week travelling to +Albany with great discomfort. To-day we travel thither in three hours +with incredible ease and luxury. Do we find more public virtue when we +get there? Comfort, knowledge, opportunity, resources, are multiplied +a thousandfold. Schools, libraries, museums, societies, appliances, +have sprung in a night, like Jack's bean-stalk, to a towering height. +Have they brought us nearer heaven? Are we more truthful, more +upright, manlier men? In a world where mechanical invention and +victories over time and space were of no importance, but where moral +qualities alone availed, should we men of the end of the nineteenth +century stand any better chance than those of the beginning of the +ninth? +</p> + +<p> +That is the queer question which Santa Claus insists upon dropping +into the stockings that hang by this Christmas hearth. He calls it a +Christmas nut to crack. The old fellow chuckles as he thinks of it +while he rides through the frosty starlight. "My children," he laughs, +"what is the difference between six dozen dozen and half a dozen +dozen?" While he asks and chuckles, the old fellow is himself an +answer. He did not invent gifts. But he symbolizes universal giving. +The moral law may be as old as man, but the demand and disposition for +the general application of that law to actual life increase with every +century. The moral law was the same when Howard revealed the horrors +of prisons that it is now when modern philanthropy has purged and +purified them. "The sense of duty," said Webster, in his greatest +criminal argument, "pursues us ever." But it pursues us more +effectively with the return of every Christmas. +</p> + +<p> +If there be no larger knowledge of the moral law there is a more +universal sense of moral obligation. Those pearls of Oman which +Corydon designs for Amaryllis would not have adorned so noble a woman +had they circled the neck of the Paphian Venus or Helen of Troy. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xv">WENDELL PHILLIPS AT HARVARD. 1881.</a></h2> + +<p> +The great Commencement event of the Summer was Wendell Phillips's +oration at the centennial anniversary of the venerable Phi Beta Kappa +at Cambridge. It was also the semi-centenary of the orator's +graduation at Harvard, and there was great anticipation, not only +because Mr. Phillips is now in many ways the first orator of his time, +but because his <i>alma mater</i> has not sympathized with his career. On +the day before, which was Commencement-day, there was general wonder +among the Harvard men of all years whether the orator would regard the +amenities of the occasion, and pour out his music and his wit upon +some purely literary theme, or seize his venerable mother by the hair, +and gracefully twist it out with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope," uneasily said a distinguished alumnus of Harvard to the Easy +Chair, "I hope he will not forget that he is a gentleman." +</p> + +<p> +"He has never yet forgotten it," replied the Easy Chair. +</p> + +<p> +The morning was beautiful--a sweet, fresh, brilliant June morning--and +there was a great assembly in the grounds of the university. The usual +Phi Beta Kappa attendance is not large. The celebration occurs on the +last day of prolonged college festivities, and the number of members +of the society is limited; nor, in fact, has it a real existence +except on the day of its oration and poem and dinner. This year, +however, the centenary of Harvard, from which all the other chapters, +except the parent chapter at William and Mary, have proceeded, had +drawn delegations from seventeen other colleges. The pink and blue +ribbon, which has replaced the square gold watch-key of other days, +fluttered at every button-hole, and with pealing music leading the +way, the long, long procession--a Phi Beta Kappa procession such as +perhaps Harvard never saw before--wound under the imposing buildings +towards the beautiful college hall, the Sanders Theatre. +</p> + +<p> +A great college day is always a feast of memory. As the music swelled +and the procession moved, the air was full of visions of forms long +vanished, of voices forever silent. To the Phi Beta Kappa memory in +Cambridge, however, three of the society's famous days returned. +First, that 26th of August, 1824, when Edward Everett delivered the +oration, which closed with the apostrophe to Lafayette, sitting upon +the platform in the old meetinghouse, which stood, we believe, where +Gore Hall now stands. It is the college tradition that the audience +rose in enthusiasm with the last words of the orator: "Welcome, thrice +welcome, to our shores, and whithersoever throughout the limits of the +continent your course shall take you, the ear that hears you shall +bless you, the eye that sees you shall bear witness to you, and every +tongue exclaim with heart-felt joy, Welcome, welcome, Lafayette!" and +that Lafayette himself, not clearly apprehending the drift of the +peroration, and swept on by sympathy, eagerly applauded with the +excited throng. Second, that 31st of August, 1837, when Ralph Waldo +Emerson read the remarkable discourse to whose calm, wise, and +thrilling words the hearts of men who were young then still vibrate, +and to which their lives have responded; and third, the day in 1836 +when Oliver Wendell Holmes read his poem, "A Metrical Essay," which is +the traditional Phi Beta Kappa poem, as Everett's and Emerson's are +the traditional orations. Richard H. Dana, Jr., calls Everett's +discourse the first of a kind of which since then there have been +brilliant illustrations, the rhetorical, literary, historical, and +political essay blended in one, and made captivating by every charm of +oratory. +</p> + +<p> +But the procession has reached the theatre, in which already there are +ladies seated, and in a few moments the building is filled with an +audience to which any orator would be proud to speak. There is music +as the audience rustles and murmurs into its place with eager +expectation. Then there is a prayer. Then Mr. Choate, the president of +the day, with his customary felicity and sparkling banter, speaks of +the origin of the ancient and mysterious brotherhood. "And now," he +says, in ending, "I introduce to you him who, whenever and wherever he +speaks, is the orator of the day." Mr. Phillips rises, and buttons his +frock-coat across his white waistcoat as he moves to the front of the +platform. Seen from the theatre, his hair is gray, and his face looks +older, but there is the same patrician air; and with the familiar +tranquillity and colloquial ease he begins to speak. +</p> + +<p> +He spoke perhaps for two hours, perhaps for half an hour. But there +was no sense of the lapse of time. His voice was somewhat less strong, +but it had all the old force and the old music. He was in constant +action, but never vehement, never declamatory in tone, walking often +to and fro, every gesture expressive, art perfectly concealing art. It +was all melody and grace and magic, all wit and paradox and power. The +apt quotation, the fine metaphor, the careful accumulation of +intensive epithet to point an audacious and startling assertion, the +pathos, the humor. But why try to describe beauty? It was consummate +art, and as noble a display of high oratory as any hearer or spectator +had known. +</p> + +<p> +It is usually thought that there must be a great occasion for great +oratory. Burke and Chatham upon the floor of Parliament plead for +America against coercion; Adams and Otis and Patrick Henry in vast +popular assemblies fire the colonial heart to resist aggression; +Webster lays the corner-stone on Bunker Hill, or in the Senate unmasks +secession in the guise of political abstraction; Everett must have the +living Lafayette by his side. But here is an orator without an +antagonist, with no measure to urge or oppose, whose simple theme upon +a literary occasion is the public duty of the scholar. Yet he touches +and stirs and inspires every listener; and as he quietly ends his +discourse with a stanza of Lowell's that he has quoted a hundred times +before, every hearer feels that it is a historic day, and that what he +has seen and heard will be one of the traditions of Harvard and of Phi +Beta Kappa. +</p> + +<p> +It does not follow, because the audience was charmed, and overflowed +with expressions of delight, that it therefore agreed. When an orator +calls the French Revolution "the greatest, the most un-mixed, the most +unstained and wholly perfect blessing Europe has had in modern times, +unless, perhaps, we may possibly except the Reformation," there will +be those who differ--who will grant the beneficent results of +revolutions, as of wild storms of nature, but who will hesitate to +call a movement of which the September days, the noyades, and the +bloody fury of a brutal mob were incidents, the most unmixed and the +most unstained of blessings. No American would lament the agitation +for emancipation, to which the life of the orator has been devoted. It +was a great blessing to the country and to humanity; but from the +blood of Lovejoy to that of the last victim of the war on either side, +it was not an unstained and unmixed blessing. There is, indeed, a +sense in which "to gar kings know" that they have a joint in their +necks may in itself be called an unstained political gain. But since +historically the lesson is taught only by the cruel suffering of the +innocent and the guilty together, it is, in fact, indelibly stained. +"Ah!" said the most benignant of men, "it was a delightful discourse, +but preposterous from beginning to end." +</p> + +<p> +Yet its central idea, that it is the duty of educated men actively to +lead the progress of their time, is incontestable. The orator, indeed, +virtually arraigned his <i>alma mater</i> for moral hesitation and +timidity. But a university lives in its children, and is judged by +them; and surely the history of civil and religious liberty in this +country from Samuel Adams, James Otis, and Joseph Warren down to +Channing and Parker, to Charles Sumner and Wendell Phillips, and the +brave boys of whom Memorial Hall is the monument, all of whom were +sons of Harvard, does not show that the old university has not +contributed her share of leadership. +</p> + +<p> +Such answers, striking and trenchant and admirable, were perhaps made +at the delightful dinner which followed the oration. Perhaps President +Eliot promptly took up and threw back with eloquent energy the gage +which had been thrown in the very face of the venerable mother by one +of her eminent children, so illustrating that ample resource and +sagacious firmness which have made his administration most efficient +and memorable. Perhaps Dr. Holmes, whose felicitous genius overflowing +in wit and music has long put the sparkling bead upon the Phi Beta +Kappa goblet, recited the lines whose response was the gay laughter +that rang through a pelting shower of rain far over the college +grounds. Perhaps as "Auld Lang Syne" was sung with locked hands at the +end of the dinner, if "Auld Lang Syne" is ever sung at Phi Beta Kappa +dinners, there was a general feeling that the day had been a +red-letter day for the university, and a white day in the recollection +of all who had heard one of the most charming discourses that were +ever delivered in the country, and had beheld a display of oratorical +art which in this time, at least, cannot be surpassed. +</p> + +<p> +But of all this nothing can ever be known, because the feasts of Phi +Beta Kappa are sealed with secrecy. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xvi">EASTER BONNETS.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is not a great many years ago that, among Protestants in this +country, Easter was mainly the festival of one denomination, and even +within that denomination it was celebrated with comparatively little +pomp. But now it is universal, especially in the larger towns and +cities, and many churches decorate themselves with flowers, and +observe with annually accumulating splendor the great feast of the +immortal hope. The churches are filled with people. The music is +elaborate, and it is elaborately advertised during the preceding week, +and, by one of those odd coincidences which associate the most diverse +things, it is on Easter-Day that the new spring bonnets of the ladies +appear, and there is a delightful mingling of most diverse interests. +</p> + +<p> +"I have observed," said an elderly gentleman, as he watched from the +window of his club the pretty procession of new clothes winding +churchward on Easter morning, "that some ladies of high fashion dress +more and more elaborately as they advance in years, and as the sweet +light of youth fades from their eyes it is replaced by a greater blaze +of diamonds upon their persons." +</p> + +<p> +It was the venerable Ambassador from Sennaar who spoke, and who was +smiling pleasantly upon the cheerful scene. +</p> + +<p> +"For myself," he continued, "I can recall nothing more enchanting in +human form than the granddaughter of my old friend whom I went to see +some years ago in Newport, and who bounded in at the open window from +the garden on a perfect June morning--herself incarnate June--clad in +a white muslin dress, her hair simply knotted behind, holding a rose +in her hand, and with the loveliest rose in her cheeks. That young +woman, a girl not yet twenty, now has girls of her own more than +twenty. I wonder if she wears a very elaborate bonnet this Easter +morning, and whether her dress is a mass of pleats and puffs and +marvellous trimmings, which, when profusely extravagant upon the form +of an elder woman, always remind me of signals of distress hung out +upon a craft that is drifting far away from the enchanted isles of +youth. Is it the instinctive effort to prolong the brilliancy of youth +that induces the advancing woman to decorate herself so brightly? Is +it the involuntary hope that she will really seem to be buoyant and +gay of heart if only her dress be gay? As they go trooping by I mark +that richly caparisoned dowager, and I recall the days when I was +merely an attache of the embassy, and when in the modest parlor in +Bond Street she sang: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "'I wadna walk in silk attire,<br> + Nor siller hae to spare,<br> + Gin I must from my true love part,<br> + Nor think on Donald mair." +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman from Sennaar is always permitted to have his own +way, and he prattles on without interruption. If you don't care to +listen, it is always easy to withdraw, and to look out at another +window, and to make your own comments instead of heeding his. +</p> + +<p> +"But that was not exactly what I had in mind as I watched this pretty +Easter procession," resumed the venerable Ambassador; "but the truth +is that when I see a crowd of brightly dressed women, my mind +scatters, as it were, and I am very apt not to hit my mark." +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman smiled again. "All the fine spring bonnets of +Easter-Sunday do not prove the youth of every face under them, and I +wonder whether this splendid celebration of Easter means that you are +a more religious people than in the plainer Easter days that I +remember. Is the sincerity of religious feeling always in proportion +to the magnificence of the ritual? If it be, you have become a deeply +religious people, especially in your great city. We used to think at +the legation in Rome that the people of that city were in danger of +mistaking a punctual observance of religious ceremonies for religion. +But you are so intelligent that you are, of course, in no such danger. +I accept these beautiful flowers and this pretty procession of new +bonnets as the proof of your religious progress." +</p> + +<p> +The Ambassador paused reflectively a moment, and then continued: "You +send a great many missionaries to India and elsewhere. Is it because +you have no work for them at home? In my country, my benighted and +heathen Sennaar, we have a proverb that an ounce of practice is worth +a pound of profession. In Rome, I say, we used to fear lest the +people, with crossings and dippings and genuflections and repetitions +of a long series of invocations and confessions and penance and many +ceremonies, might come to confound these things with religion. But I +suppose that this blossoming Easter, this solemn abstention from 'the +German' in Lent, and this interest in draperies and postures, mean +that you devote the same energy and time and care to studying how to +help the helpless, how to console the suffering, how to teach poverty +to hope and labor for its own relief. It means that the richly attired +Christians who are walking in the most fashionable spring bonnets to +church on Easter-Sunday have learned who is their neighbor, and what +their duty is towards him, and are diligently doing it." +</p> + +<p> +The Ambassador removed his eyeglasses, and turned to smile blandly +upon the group of club-men near him. +</p> + +<p> +"This reflection," he continued, "makes me very happy, and fills me +with reverence for a Christian people. For if you built superb +churches in one street, and tolerated heathen squalor of soul and body +in the next street, you would crucify Christianity. No, no: these +sweet flowers of Easter are not symbols of your words, but of your +work; not of your professions, but of your practice." +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman resumed his glasses, and looked silently at the +thronged street. How comfortable to believe with our venerable friend, +and to perceive that the great increase in the beauty of the Easter +commemoration is the fitting symbol of the corresponding increase in +our religious faith and practice! +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xvii">JENNY LIND.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is many years ago that the Easy Chair, making the grand tour, was +in Dresden, and saw in the newspaper that Jenny Lind, then in the +first fulness of her fame, would sing for four nights in Berlin. It +was in the autumn, and loitering along the Elbe and through the Saxon +Switzerland was a very fascinating prospect. But the chance of hearing +the Swedish Nightingale was more alluring than the Bastei and the +lovely view from Konigstein, and at once the order of travel was +interrupted, and the Easy Chair arrived eagerly in Berlin. +</p> + +<p> +The Berlin of those days was still a city in which the student could +live economically, and hear the lectures of great teachers upon the +most reasonable terms. But the sole interest of the moment was the +Northern singer, and upon reaching the hotel and making prompt +inquiry, the Easy Chair learned that chairs for the Lind +representations could be secured only at prices which were wholly +unprecedented in the staid Hohenzollern capital. The exigency of the +case, however, compelled the payment, and the Easy Chair devoted +eighteen thaler, or nearly as many American dollars, to obtaining a +seat to hear Jenny Lind for the first time. Never for such a sum was +bought so rich a treasure of delightful and unfading recollections, +always cheering and inspiring--an unwasting music which has murmured +and echoed through a life. +</p> + +<p> +The scene was the Royal Opera-house. The audience was the finest +society of the court; and even then the musical taste of Berlin, as if +forecasting Wagner, used to sneer loftily at that of Vienna, where +Flotow was about to produce "Martha," as a taste for <i>tanzmusik</i>. The +opera was the "Sonnambula," and after the pretty opening choruses and +dances, Amina came tripping to the front through the clustering +villagers. +</p> + +<p> +She was an ideal peasant maiden, blooming and blithe and fair, of an +indefinable simplicity and purity; the genuine peasant of the poetic +world, not a fine lady of Marie Antoinette's Petit Trianon playing at +rustic artlessness. The voice and the singing were but the natural +expression of that charming maidenhood. The full volume, the touching +sweetness of tone, the exquisite warble, the amazing skill and the +marvellous execution, with the perfect ease and repose of consummate +art, and the essential womanliness of the whole impression, were +indisputable and supreme. To a person sensitive to music and of a +certain ardor of temperament there could be no higher pleasure of the +kind. Every such person who heard Jenny Lind in her prime, from 1847 +to 1852, whether in opera or concert, can recall no greater delight +and satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +Other famous singers charmed that happy time. But Jenny Lind, +rivalling their art, went beyond them all in touching the heart with +her personality. Certainly no public singer was ever more invested +with a halo of domestic purity. When she stood with her hands quietly +crossed before her and tranquilly sang "I know that my Redeemer +liveth," the lofty fervor of the tone, the rapt exaltation of the +woman, with the splendor of the vocalization, made the hearing an +event, and left a memory as of a sublime religious function. This +explains Jenny Lind's peculiar hold upon the mass of her audiences in +this country, who were honest, sober, industrious, moral American men +and women, to most of whom the opera was virtually an unknown, if not +a forbidden, delight. Malibran had sung here in the freshness of her +voice and charm; Caradori-Allan, Cinti-Damoreau, Alboni, Parepa, and +other delightful singers followed her. Grisi came, too, but in her +decline. Still others have ruled their hour. But in the general memory +of the country Jenny Lind remains unequalled. There was the +unquestionable quality in her song which made Mendelssohn say that +such a musical genius appears but once in a century. +</p> + +<p> +It was a pleasant little New York to which she came, but it thought +itself a very important city. Fanny Ellsler had bewitched the town a +few years before; and some graybeards and baldheads, now tottering in +the sun upon Broadway, but then the golden youth of Manhattan, took +the horses from the Bayadere's carriage and drew her in triumph to her +hotel. Ole Bull, also, had come conquering out of the North like a +young Viking, charming and subduing, and Vieuxtemps came also, +disputing the palm. The town took sides. The virtuosi applauded +Vieuxtemps as a true artist, and shrugged at Ole Bull as an eccentric +player. If you whispered "Paganini?" they silently shrugged the more. +Still the young Viking fascinated young and old. He played like the +Pied Piper, and the entranced country danced after. But when Jenny +Lind came, the welcome to the singer as yet unheard was more +prodigious than that offered to any other European visitor except +Dickens. It was managed, of course, by Barnum. It was advertising. But +that was only until she sang. After that first evening at Castle +Garden the delight advertised itself. +</p> + +<p> +In this day, Wagner <i>consule</i>, of the eclipse of Italian opera, the +programme of a Lind concert will perhaps win a glance of curiosity +even from the lovers of "Tristan und Isolde," who follow with +reverence in the parquette the mighty score of the trilogy upon the +stage. Here, for instance, is the programme of a charitable concert of +Jenny Lind's in Boston on Thursday evening, the both of October, 1850, +just a month after her first concert in the country at Castle Garden +in New York on the 11th of September. The programme is a pamphlet +opening with four marvellous wood-cut likenesses of Jenny Lind, Jules +Benedict, her conductor; Signor Belletti, the barytone, and Mr. +Barnum. The words or each song in the original and in translation are +printed upon separate pages, and the whole concludes with sketches of +the lives of Jenny Lind, Signer Benedict, Signor Belletti--and Mr. +Barnum. The selection of music comprises Beethoven's overture to +"Egmont;" an air from the "Elijah," first time in America, sung by +Jenny Lind; "Non piu andrai," from Mozart's "Nozze di Figaro," by +Signor Belletti; piano solo, Mendelssohn's "Songs without Words," by +Signor Benedict; and, for the first time in America also, "Und ob die +Wolke," from "Der Freischutz," by Jenny Lind. This was the first part. +The second part began with Reissiger's overture, "Die Felsenmuhle;" +Signor Belletti then sang the "Piff Paff," from Meyerbeer's +"Huguenots;" Jenny Lind followed with the "Come per me sereno," from +the "Sonnambula," for the first time in America; then Belletti with +the "Miei rampolli," from Rossini's "Cenerentola;" and the concert +ended with the "Dalecarlian Melody" and the "Mountaineer's Song," both +for the first time, by Jenny Lind. +</p> + +<p> +It would be still possible even for the devoutest Wagnerian disciple +to hear such a concert, perhaps, without leaving the hall in +indignation, perhaps even without a protest. All the concerts were of +uniform excellence, and the Easy Chair is a competent witness, at +least so far as attendance is concerned, for it heard all of the Lind +concerts in New York except the first. During the second season an +unknown name appeared one evening upon the bill, which announced that +Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, a young and unknown pianist, would play for the +first time in this country. Tripler Hall, opposite Bond Street upon +Broadway, was crowded as usual, and when Jenny Lind had withdrawn +after singing one of her "numbers," a slight, dark-haired youth came +upon the stage and seated himself at the piano. He was courteously +greeted, and just as he was about to begin, the door opened quietly at +the back of the stage, and Jenny Lind stood in full view of the +audience tranquilly to listen. At a happy point in the performance she +clapped heartily, and the whole house, following its lovely leader, +burst into a storm of applause. The young man bowed to the audience +and to "Miss Lind," and, as he ended, with more hand-clapping and a +bright and kindly smile Jenny Lind vanished, having secured the +success of Mr. Otto Goldschmidt. It was a pretty scene. Perhaps the +<i>prima donna assoluta</i> recalled the famous brava-a-a-a of Lablache on +her first evening at her Majesty's Opera-house in London, which +satisfied England that she was a great singer, and confirmed her +career. To the audience her friendly interest seemed the impulse of +her kindly heart for a young neophyte in this profession. To Mr. Otto +Goldschmidt--! +</p> + +<p> +Ole Bull returned to the country before Jenny Lind left it, and one +evening, when she was staying at the Stevens House, in Broadway by the +Bowling Green, she gave a dinner, and Ole Bull was among the guests. +After dinner he seated himself at the piano, and running over the +keys, struck into some wild minor chords, and began to sing Norwegian +songs. They were of a singular melancholy, but very beautiful, and the +company listened intently. Jenny Lind especially sat rapt in the +music, until, after one of the songs, she rose quietly, and moving +steadily across the floor as if carrying a jar of water upon her head +and fearing to spill a drop, she pushed Ole Bull from his chair, and +seating herself in his place at the piano, reproduced the entire song +with exquisite pathos. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, it was in these characteristic Northern songs, full of strange +and romantic tenderness, and suggestive of solitary seas and wide, +lonely horizons, of awful mountain heights and secluded valleys of +sober and sequestered life, that her voice seemed most extraordinary +and her skill most marvellous. Romantic singing, picturesque, +mournful, weird, could go no further. She was the spirit of the North +singing its hymn, and the audience sat enchanted under the melodious +spell. A veteran, as he recalls those days, might well suspect that he +is still enthralled by the magician's wand of youth, and that it is +not fact, but only its rosy exaggeration, which he describes. But the +contemporary records of that astonishing career remain, and they +confirm his story. The prices paid for tickets, the enormous receipts, +and the generous gifts in charity of Jenny Lind are not fables. Yet +the glamour of youth has its part in all recollection of the days of +splendor in the flower. Once when the Easy Chair was extolling the +melodious Swede to a senior, the hearer listened patiently, with a +remote look in his eyes, and replied at last, musingly, "Yes, but you +should have heard Malibran." +</p> + +<p> +The series of American concerts which began on the 11th of September, +1850, at Castle Garden ended at the same place on the 24th of May, +1852. The vast space was not well suited for singing, but the +magnificent voice filled it completely, and in the fascinated silence +of the immense throng every exquisite note of the singer was heard. +She sang with evident feeling, and with responsive tenderness the +audience listened. Every time that she appeared she carried a fresh +bouquet, the sight of which gladdened some ardent young heart. But +when at last she came forward to sing the farewell to America, for +which Goldschmidt had composed the music, she bore in her hand a +bouquet of white rose-buds, with a Maltese cross of deep carnations in +the centre. This she held while for the last time in public she sang +in America; and the young traveller who, five years before, had turned +aside at Dresden to hear Jenny Lind in Berlin, alone in all that great +audience at Castle Garden knew who had sent those flowers. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xviii">THE TOWN.</a></h2> + +<p> +In the city that we like to call the metropolis, the newspapers enable +us to begin every day with the knowledge that yesterday Mr. and Mrs. +A. entertained at dinner Messieurs and Mesdames B., C., D., E., F., +G., H., I., and J. And why is this precious knowledge imparted to us? +Why are we not also taught what else they did during the day? Why do +we learn nothing of Mr. and Mrs. Y. and Z., at the other end of the +alphabet, in Baxter Street? For these good folks who are mentioned are +in no way distinguished except for riches. If, indeed, they had done +or said or written anything memorable, if they had painted fine +pictures, or carved statues of mark, or designed noble buildings, or +composed beautiful music; if they had effected humane reforms, had +happily cheered or refined or enriched human life, or in any way had +made the world better and men and women happier, the curiosity to hear +of them, and to see them, and to read of their daily course of life, +would be as intelligible as the pleasure in seeing the birthplace of +Burns, or walking in Anne Hathaway's garden, or hearing of Abraham +Lincoln, or seeing Washington's bedstead and sitting in his chair. +</p> + +<p> +But to read day after day in the paper, this golden domesday-book, the +lists of rich people who ate terrapin together, or danced together in +lace frills and white cravats afterwards, and to read it with avidity, +is what might be done in some world of satire. But in a hard-working, +sensible, Yankee world! You might say that nobody does read it, but +the column of the newspaper which is devoted to this narrative, +contrasted with the few paragraphs in which the important news from +all parts of the globe is discussed, refutes you. The newspaper +understands itself. It is a shrewd merchant who supplies the demand in +the market. +</p> + +<p> +But is there no other than a humiliating explanation of the fact? Is +it only snobbishness, a mean admiration of mean things? Are we all +essentially lackeys who love to wear a livery? Or is it not +rather--all this interest in the small performances of those who, if +distinguished for nothing else, are the distinguished favorites of +fortune--the result of the ceaseless aspiration for a better +condition, and the instinct of the imagination to decorate our lives +with the vision of a fairer circumstance than our own, and to revenge +the tyranny of fate by the hope of heaven? If the fine Titania could +sing to Bottom, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Mine ear is much enamored of thy note,<br> + ...<br> + Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful," +</p> + +<p> +why should not our liberal fancy sing the same song to the Four +Hundred? They may be deftly enchanted to our eyes if to no others, and +to our view our Bottom also be translated. +</p> + +<p> +It is not what they are, but what we believe them to be, of which we +read in the newspaper. The poor sewing-girl, as she stitches her life +away "in poverty, hunger, and dirt," seeing unconsciously the fairy +texture and costly delicacy of the robe she fashions, follows it in +fancy to the form which is to wear it, and which to that fancy must +needs be that of a most lovely and most gracious woman, because none +other would that soft splendor of raiment befit. The lofty and +benignant lady must needs also mate with her kind, and move only among +those "learn'd and fair and good as she." All the circumstance of life +must conform, and amid light and perfume and music the unspeakable +hours of such women, such men, glide by.--The girl's head droops. For +one brief moment she dreams, and that charmed life is real. +</p> + +<p> +In a less degree, in our prosaic and plodding daily routine, we invest +the life of the favorites of fortune with an ideal charm. It is, to +our fond fancy, all that it might be. Those figures are not what +Circe's wand might disclose. They are gods and goddesses feasting, and +in happier moments we feign ourselves possible Ixions to be admitted +to the celestial banquet. In the streets of the summer city their +palaces are closed, their brilliant equipages are gone; they do not +sparkle and murmur in their opera boxes, nor roll stately in slow +lines along the trimmed avenues of the Park. But still the celestial +life proceeds, a little out of sight, its lovely leisure brimmed with +deeds becoming those who have no care but to do good and to +transfigure their own fair fortune into a blessing for the world. We +read the gross details of dress and dinner. But they remind us only +more keenly of the ample resource, the boundless opportunity which our +favorites of fortune enjoy. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, Orestes, we ponder the society column not because we are snobs, +but because our imaginations take fire; the dry narrowness and hard +conditions of our lives are soothed as we contemplate those who have +no excuse not to be benefactors; and what they should be, our +imaginations, benevolent to ourselves, assure us that they are. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xix">SARAH SHAW RUSSELL.</a></h2> + +<p> +There died lately a woman not known to the public, but whose loss to +those who personally knew her can never be made good. The summer that +shall come may bring as of old roses and violets, but the summer that +is gone will never return. In the memory of all of us there are +persons who seem to have revealed to us the best that we know and are; +they are so lofty that we are raised, so noble that we are ennobled; +so pure that we are purified. They are generally women whose lives are +noiseless, who live at home, wives and mothers, without the ambition +that spurs men to strive for renown, but their days are full of such +richness of beautiful life that its fitting image is that finest +flower of tropical luxuriance, the magnificent Victoria Regia. +</p> + +<p> +A nature so modest and simple, and a life so private that it seems +almost a wrong to speak of them publicly, yet a character so firm and +tranquil and self-possessed that if necessary it would have met +without doubt or hesitation any form of martyrdom, can hardly be +described without apparent exaggeration. She was born, in our familiar +phrase, a lady, and from the beginning, throughout a long life, she +was surrounded with perfect ease of circumstance. She was singularly +beautiful in her youth, and to the close of her life she had the charm +of personal loveliness. Her manner was direct and frank and cheerful, +and with her perfect candor and vigorous good-sense it scattered the +trivial and smirking artificialities of social intercourse as a clear +wind from the north-west cools and refreshes the sultry languors of +August. Early married to a man of the highest character and aims, and +of that practical good-sense which makes ability most effective, she +was in entire sympathy with his wise and humane interests, and thus in +her family she was most fortunate and happy. +</p> + +<p> +Yet by beauty, wealth, position, and the natural possession of the +prizes for which life is generally a struggle, she was wholly +unspoiled. Her views of duty and of just human relations were so clear +and true that she reinvigorated the conscience of all who knew her. +She was curiously free from the little weaknesses which we +instinctively excuse in ourselves and others, and although her +absolute truthfulness necessarily but involuntarily rebuked us all, we +could no more be angry than with our own consciences. The reproach was +entirely involuntary. Never was a woman more tenderly tolerant of +every honest difference, or more careful not to wound either by look +or word or tone. Too true herself to suspect falsity in others, she +was much too sensible to assume the part of Mentor. +</p> + +<p> +In the great mental and moral activity of her generation she was +instinctively liberal, and never questioned in others the complete +soul-liberty, as Roger Williams called it, which she calmly and +naturally maintained for herself. No reform could conceal from her its +essential value as a high aspiration, a good impulse, if nothing more; +and however grotesque and extravagant the reformer, she pierced his +mask of eccentricity and welcomed the earnest seeker, bewildered and +blinded though he might be. She judged speech and action by a +remarkable intuition of right and wrong, and it was interesting to see +how surely and smoothly she cut sophistry straight through to the +truth which it muffled and distorted. Men and women she valued solely +for their intrinsic worth, and never by conventional standards. A +fugitive slave and the Prince of Wales would have been treated by her +in a way which would have assured them both that the different +circumstances of their condition did not obscure their equal humanity. +</p> + +<p> +To say this must not leave the impression that she was other than a +lady of the simplest, most refined, and most unobtrusive but cordial +manner. There must be no vision of a Lady Bountiful, or of a Lady of +the Manor, or of any self-conscious personage whatever. But a stronger +influence upon the lives with which she was brought in contact cannot +well be conceived, nor the perennial hope and encouragement which her +cheerful presence inspired. Domestic sorrows touched that strong and +noble heart not to any vehement demonstration, but to a deeper faith +and a sober serenity, which interpreted the poet's sense of "the still +sad music of humanity." Courage, confidence, cheerfulness--these were +the good angels that dwelt with her, and through her they breathed +their benediction on all whom she loved or who personally knew her. As +she lived in communion with great thoughts and the widest human +sympathies, so that her life, like our stillest, harvest-ripening +days, passed in sunny repose, so the end was peace. With no wasting +malady, no long decay of faculty, she tranquilly slept. +</p> + +<p> +There is nothing that poets feign of women that was not justified by +her. In thinking of her lofty life there is no need of excuse or +allowance; for human nature, as it was never more unassuming or +simple, was never greater and lovelier than in her. Beautiful and wise +and brave and gentle and good, the thought of her is perpetual +blessing. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xx">STREET MUSIC.</a></h2> + +<p> +A man grinding a hand-organ in the street is doubtless a sturdy beggar +soliciting alms. A band of men blowing simultaneously into brass +instruments, with a brazen pretence of making music, is probably like +steam-whistles and church-bells and the cries of newspaper extras and +of itinerant peddlers of many wares--a noisy nuisance. Yet the old +cries of London, although doubtless strident and disturbing, have a +certain romantic charm of association and tradition. Like the Tower +and Billingsgate and Wapping Old Stairs, they were parts of very +London, and London was less London when they ceased. +</p> + +<p> +Were those old cries of the story-book, like the interpreted voices of +the church-bells-- +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Kettles and pans,<br> + Says the bell of St. Ann's;<br> + Apples and lemons,<br> + Says the bell of St. Clement's,"-- +</p> + +<p> +altogether shameless and exasperating noises? Were they not the same +voices that called Whittington to turn again? Was not the deep bay of +St. Paul's heard when Nelson, the old sea-dog, died? Could the music +of the bells be spared from the story of London more than that of the +cries? Is the milkman who announces the arrival of the morning's milk +with a "barbaric yawp," like that in which Mr. Whitman is supposed to +celebrate his own personality, a sturdy beggar? He would certainly +resent the imputation. He is a merchant who sells a desirable +commodity. Shall he be adjudged a nuisance? +</p> + +<p> +But Signor Raffaello da Perugia, who produces opera airs upon a +portable organ, with Don Whiskerando, who mounts with agility to the +parlor window to receive the consideration in his feathered cap, is he +not also a merchant who sells music to you in selected varieties, the +latest popular songs and tunes of the theatre, the waltz of last +year's ball-room? Must he be accounted a sturdy beggar because you +happen not to be in immediate want of his wares? Or the band of which +we were speaking, which arrives at the hour when the master of the +house returns from his office, and performs a serenade of welcome as +he greets the circle from which he has been absent since breakfast, +shall it be denied the pleasure of heightening the pleasure of others? +Are not the taxes of these Jem Baggses, these wandering minstrels, the +"only rates uninvidious in the levy, ungrudged in the assessment?" +</p> + +<p> +Where the intent is so unequivocally kindly, is it not gross and +unfeeling to suggest in the modest orchestra a questionable chord, a +cracked reed, a cornet out of tune? Why so insistent, so scrupulously +exigent? Are you never out of tune, good sir? Your chords, say in the +domestic concert, are they always finely harmonious, and your own reed +never cracked? Why so eager to cast the first stone? Yonder trombone +may have its weaknesses--who of us, pray, is without? Has tolerance +gone out with astrology? "He had his faults," said the Reverend Bland +Sudds yesterday in a funeral discourse upon the Honorable Richard +Turpin--"he had his faults, yes, for he was human." But if a man may +falter, shall we not forgive to a trombone even a half-note? If Turpin +may be respectfully lamented with indulgent hope, shall a hesitating +horn be doomed to "the all-sweeping besom of societarian reformation?" +</p> + +<p> +While Eugenio was making the grand tour he loitered in Venice and +lingered in Naples, wandering to Paestum, feasting in the orange +groves of Sorrento, and penetrating the Blue Grotto at Capri. In +Venice the songs of the country, in Naples the barcarolles, made his +memory as he came away a thicket of singing-birds. Those ever-renewed +snatches and remembered refrains of songs, Venetian and Neapolitan, +like a sponge passed over a Giorgione, brought out the mellow richness +of Italy, and as he paced Broadway and hummed a tender melody, he +walked where Vittoria Colonna had trod, and heard the faint beat of +oars upon moonlit Como. One morning, hard at work in his chamber, +where only the confused roar of the city was audible, a strain rose +high and clear above it all, with a soft, pathetic, penetrating +urgency, "So' marinaro di questa marina," and, all else forgotten, he +was once more rocking on Italian waters, and the red-capped +fisher-boys filled the air with song. +</p> + +<p> +He ran down, and into the street, and around the block, and, lo! +Signor Raffaello was the fond magician. He was turning the crank of +his heavy organ, and Don Whiskerando, feathered cap in hand, was +climbing the balcony of the drawing-room windows, and Signor Raffaello +was raising his eyes towards the upper windows to see if haply some +child or nurse attended. Eugenio dropped more than a penny into the +ready hand of the signore, and was gone before the swarthy magician +could make out his benefactor. Eugenio gained his room, and with +sympathetic intelligence the signore, playing out the College +Hornpipe, once more touched the stop of "So' marinaro," and renewed +the happy spell. +</p> + +<p> +It is not fine music, that of the hand-organ and the street bands; it +is indeed too oft a cracked and spavined pleasure. Doubtless it is +justly classified as one of the street noises, and street noises are +probably nuisances to be abated. But strolling in the eastern quarters +of the city, beyond the domain of the Academy and the Metropolitan +Opera-house and the halls of Steinway and Chickering, have you never +seen an eager and ragged little rabble happily watching Don +Whiskerando, while their elders are plainly pleased for a moment with +that tuneful noise? The fruit is not wholly sound, but it is far from +rotten. The music is poor, but the pleasure is unquestionable. +Possibly the "Gotterdammerung," and even Siegfried's "Tod," would pass +these people unmarked, like the wind. They cannot hold those mighty +measures. But they are receptive of these little tunes. In a life of +not much enjoyment this brings them some pleasure. Shall it be stopped +altogether? It is the business of these peddlers of tunes to wander. +They will move on if you do not want them. But must they also move +away from those who do want them? +</p> + +<p> +If there be too much noise in the streets, might not some other form +of noise have been first silenced than that of the street musicians? +There are the factory whistles and the church-bells. For the necessity +of the first something may be said. But the heavy clangor of the bells +is doubtless more than a discomfort to many, and it is wholly useless, +while the music of the organs and the bands is a pleasure. Do the +Aldermen, like Homer, sometimes nod? Sometimes, for an inadvertent +hour, do the finer instincts of public spirit flag in those civic +bosoms? What evil genius, hostile to the enjoyment of the people, +persuaded them? Did the city fathers for one ill-starred moment forget +their Tacitus, and silence the street music unmindful of those words, +so familiar to them in their hours of classic relaxation--<i>Solitudinem +faciunt, pacem appellant</i>? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxi">A LITTLE DINNER WITH THACKERAY.</a></h2> + +<p> +Mr. Lester Wallack in his reminiscences speaks of Thackeray, whom he +knew in New York, and recalls with admiration his simple and hearty +ways. Wallack says that as he returned from acting at his father's +theatre, then at the corner of Broadway and Broome Street, to his +lodgings in Houston Street, he used to pass Thackeray's quarters, who +was living with the late William D. Robinson in Houston Street, and if +he saw a light in the window he went in, and the gentlemen finished +the night together. He says that Thackeray had a boy's enjoyment of +the stories that the late-comer told, and although the guest does not +say it, the reader easily imagines that had he been in Thackeray's +place he would have shared Thackeray's pleasure in the gayeties of his +guest. Thackeray had the tastes of the town, and Charles Marlowe and +My Awful Dad were sure to bring their own welcome. +</p> + +<p> +Wallack also alludes to a dinner which Thackeray gave at the old +Delmonico's, at the corner of Broadway and Chambers Street, at the end +of his first visit to this country. He had been most warmly received, +and he had given universal delight by his lectures upon the English +Humorists. The charm of these lectures is evident in the reading, but +the pleasure of hearing them is quite indescribable. They were +delivered in Dr. Chapin's old church, upon the east side of Broadway +just below Prince Street, to an exceedingly intelligent and +sympathetic audience, who knew their enjoyment to be the highest kind +of literary pleasure. The thorough appreciation of the men whom he +described, the sweet and sinewy simplicity of his English, of which he +was a twin master with Hawthorne, the constant play of his kindly +humor, and manly pathos and sympathy, with his rich voice and massive, +magnetic presence, his melodious and refined inflection in speaking, +and his quiet, easy, colloquial manner, thrusting thumbs and +forefingers in his waistcoat-pockets--all these, pleasing to the mind +and sense, made him the pleasantest of lecturers, and still enchant +the memory of those +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "happy evenings all too swiftly sped." +</p> + +<p> +Just before he sailed upon his return to England he gave the dinner at +Delmonico's of which Wallack speaks, to repay many civilities, and +assembled a miscellaneous party of twenty or thirty guests. They were +men of various distinction, "everybody being somebody," as one of the +guests remarked while he glanced around the table. Thackeray was in +high spirits, and when the cigars were lighted he said that there +should be no speech-making, but that everybody, according to the old +rule of festivity, should sing a song or tell a story. Lester +Wallack's father, James Wallack, was one of the guests, and with a +kind of shyness, which was unexpected but very agreeable in a veteran +actor, he pleaded earnestly that he could not sing and knew no story. +But with friendly persistence, which yet was not immoderate, Thackeray +declared that no excuse could be allowed, because it would be a +manifest injustice to every other modest man at table, and put a +summary end to the hilarity. It was to be a general sacrifice, a +round-table of magnanimity. "Now, Wallack," he continued, "we all know +you to be a truthful man. You can, of course, since you say so, +neither sing a song nor tell a story. But I tell you what you can do, +and what every soul at this table knows you can do better than any +living man--you can give us the great scene from the 'Rent Day.'" +</p> + +<p> +There was a burst of enthusiastic agreement, and old Wallack, smiling +and yielding, still sitting at the table in his evening dress, +proceeded in a most effective and touching recitation from one of his +most famous parts. It was curious to observe from the moment he began +how completely independent of all accessories the accomplished actor +was, and how perfectly he filled the part as if he had been in full +action upon the stage. It is only this effect that the Easy Chair +recalls, but it was not to be forgotten. No enjoyment of it was +greater, and no applause sincerer than those of Thackeray, who +presently sang his "Little Billee" with infinite gusto. The song and +story went round, as Lester Wallack records, but the by-play of the +dinner, which is often the best part of such a banquet, was different +for each of the guests. The Easy Chair recalls one incident which was +a striking illustration of the masterly and phenomenal assurance of a +well-known figure in the Bohemian circles of New York at that time, +but whom it must veil under the name of Uncle Ulysses. +</p> + +<p> +By the side of the Chair sat a poet, whom also it must protect by the +name of Candide, for a simpler and sincerer literary man never lived. +It was in the time, as Thackeray was fond of saying, <i>Planco Consule</i>, +which in this instance means in the time of the old <i>Putnam's Monthly +Magazine</i>. The number for the month had been just published, and +Candide had contributed to it his "Hesperides," a charming poem, +although the reader will not find that title in his works. He and the +Easy Chair were speaking of the magazine, when Uncle Ulysses, who had +never met Candide, and knew him only by name, dropped into the chair +beyond him, and at a convenient moment made some pleasant remark to +the Easy Chair across Candide, who sat placidly smoking. "By-the-bye," +said Uncle Ulysses presently, "what a good number of <i>Putnam</i> it is +this month! But, my dear Easy Chair, can you tell me why it is that +all our young American poets write nothing but Longfellow and water? +Here in this month's <i>Putnam</i> there is a very pretty poem called +'Hesperides.' Very pretty, but nothing but diluted Longfellow." +</p> + +<p> +This was said to the Easy Chair most unsuspiciously across the author +of the poem, and the moment it was uttered, the Easy Chair, to prevent +any further disaster, broke in and said, "Yes, it is a delightful +poem, written by our friend Candide, who sits beside you. Pray let me +introduce you. Mr. Candide, this is Uncle Ulysses." +</p> + +<p> +Candide turned, evidently swelling with anger, and the Easy Chair was +extremely uncertain of the event, when Uncle Ulysses, with exquisite +urbanity and a look of surprise and pleasure, held out his hand, and +said: "Mr. Candide, this is a pleasure which I have long anticipated. +I am very much honored in making your acquaintance, and I was just +speaking to the Easy Chair of your delightful poem just published in +<i>Putnam</i>. I congratulate you with all my heart." +</p> + +<p> +Candide, astonished but perplexed, and yielding to the perfect +<i>bonhomie</i> of Uncle Ulysses, half involuntarily put out his hand, +which our uncle shook warmly, and in five minutes his fascinating +tongue had charmed Candide so completely that the Easy Chair is +confident that the good poet always supposed that in some +extraordinary manner he had misunderstood Uncle Ulysses's remark +touching the imitative tendency of young American poets. +</p> + +<p> +So one reminiscence produces an ever-widening ripple of reminiscences. +Those which circle about the recollection of Thackeray in this country +are very many, but generally unrecorded. They linger, and appear +occasionally in allusions like those of Lester Wallack. But whenever +they are told they pay homage to the humorist. They recall his +constant, sturdy, kindly simplicity and kindliness. Wallack speaks of +a certain boyish or boy-like quality in Thackeray. It was certainly +there. He had the utmost sympathy with boys, and one of his gay +caricatures of himself represents him at a Christmas pantomime +standing with two boys behind the rest of the audience, he towering +aloft and seeing everything over other people's heads, while his poor +little comrades, far down about his knees, ruefully see nothing. But +you know that if no other seat could be found, the good giant would +soon have them upon his shoulders, and all would be boyishly happy +together. "They think I am a grinning surgeon with a scalpel," said +the tender-hearted man. But those who have not found and felt the +heart are yet to learn to know Thackeray. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxii">CECILIA PLAYING.</a></h2> + +<p> +As the great musical artists, especially the pianists, arrive one +after the other, and lead the town captive, one asks, not whether +there be any limit to the number, but to the skill. Last year there +was the prodigy, the phenomenon, the boy Hofmann, and all the +superlatives were spent in his praise. This year it is Rosenthal--valley +of roses--and sweet as their attar is his spell. "Well, what is he?" +"Simply miraculous; never was there anything like him." "But +Rubinstein?" "Yes, a great genius, but he himself said that at every +concert he dropped notes enough to furnish two concerts." "Then it is +skill only, <i>technique</i>?" "Not at all; it is perfection of feeling, +conception, touch, everything. Perhaps not the greatest of composers. +But for playing--ah!" +</p> + +<p> +Rapture is one kind of criticism. Perhaps in music, the effect of +which is emotional, rapture, if you know the person, is the best +criticism. The artist who can kindle to the utmost enthusiasm of +delight a musically sensitive person who is also an exquisitely +skilful player, and whom mere marvels of execution do not affect +beyond reason, may be accepted as a very remarkable artist. +Temperament also counts for much in estimating musicians. Natures are +sympathetic. A silent, separate chord vibrates in response to a thrill +of sound which leaves other things unmoved. The heart of the young man +speaks to the psalmist, but the old man's may be dull and unawakened. +The homoeopathic formula, like cures like, may be adapted to musical +criticism at least so far as to say that like touches like. +</p> + +<p> +When Cecilia says that she has been enchanted by the playing of any +artist, the quality of her feeling and expression justly interprets +the character of his performance. When Jenny Lind first sang in +America one of the most accomplished critics said that he must wait a +little to decide whether she was a great singer. That critic could +never really hear her. Another said that she was a consummate +ventriloquist. He meant that in the Herdsman's Song and the other +Volkslieder and native melodies there was an effect of vocalism which +seemed to him a trick. But to others it suggested wide, solitary +horizons, the sadness and seclusion of remote Northern life. Mere +imagination, retorted the critics. Yes, but to what does art, +especially musical art, appeal? Rubinstein, as he said of himself, +dropped notes without number under the piano. Thalberg did not, nor +Henri Herz. But they dropped something which Rubinstein did not. The +sunshine of a December day in this latitude is often cloudless and +beautiful. But it unfolds no rose and restores no leaf to the bare +bough. +</p> + +<p> +A sweet and true, a full-volumed and thoroughly trained voice, is a +rare gift to any man. But without a certain quality in the singer it +is a perfect fruit without flavor. The singing that haunts us, which +becomes part of our life, which fills the memory with tender and happy +images of other days and scenes, is not necessarily that of the finest +voices, but of that mingling in music of voice and skill and feeling +which weave an enchanted spell. Those who have known the troubadour +Riccardo have doubtless heard what are called greater voices, artists +who hold for a triumphant moment the hazardous peak of the high C, +whose roulades and phrasing are exquisite and admirable. But the +singer whom they wish to hear, whose singing is a part of life, like +the beauty of flowers and the dawn, is the singing of the troubadour +Riccardo. It is so with Cecilia's playing, and it is impossible to +suppose a person sensitive to music who could escape its spell. +</p> + +<p> +When she sits at the piano and touches the keys, they respond, as one +whom she fascinated said, with such smooth sweetness that you think +there is conscious pleasure to them in that pressure. It is apparently +as gentle, he insisted, as that of the breeze upon the grass which +lightly sways beneath it. The impression upon this sensitive youth was +a test of the character of her playing. If he had said she sings with +her fingers he would have said what he doubtless thought, and what is +true. She plays German songs--some of the familiar songs in the +collections, or something of Lassen's or Weit's, or Abt's, or one of a +thousand other songs, and the playing is like exquisite singing. It +fills the mind with pictures, with persons, with scenes, and with that +unspeakable content which only such music can give to the lovers of +music. "What on earth is it all about?" said the Senator at the +Symphony Concert, "and why do people come here?" The Hottentot would +have asked the same question if he had heard the Senator upon the +stump. +</p> + +<p> +If the fairy godmother who presides over the cradle should give the +newcomer the choice of gifts, what gift more precious could the young +stranger ask than the power of giving a pleasure so pure as that which +Cecilia's playing imparts? It is one of her praises that if the choice +had been given to her she would instantly have selected the very power +which the good fairy bestowed. For in giving the pleasure she does +only what she delights to do and would have chosen to do. One +philosopher, speaking to the Easy Chair of another, whose serenity was +as undisturbed by events as the firmament by clouds, said of himself +that he subdued more devils before breakfast every day than his serene +brother had encountered in his whole life. Yet the serene brother's +lofty repose was not less admirable because it was a quality of +temperament, and not a triumph of the will; and it is not less the +merit of Cecilia that the happiness she diffuses is as involuntary as +the fragrance of the sweetbrier. +</p> + +<p> +What is done without effort seems not to have been taught, and it is +not easy to fancy Cecilia drudging at exercises and laboring at +scales. Canaries, indeed, are trained to sing, and even young birds to +fly. Yet the training is but showing them how to give themselves free +play. To express entire facility we say that an act is done as +naturally as a bird sings. Not less naturally does Cecilia play. You +listen, and the song which you knew seems to sing itself, but +enveloped with a richness and fulness of flowing accompaniment which +is like the harping of aerial choirs. Then with others she plays the +great music, concerted Bach or Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann, or Wagner, +Weber or Mendelssohn; now an old gavotte, now a quaint fantasia, and +why not a toccata of Galuppi Baldassero? It is more than a hint or a +reminiscence, although it is not an orchestra. But when those fingers +kindred with Cecilia's sweep the keys together, the listener wonders +whether the hearer of the full orchestra has caught from it the subtle +and exquisite significance of the strain which has poured from those +enchanted pianos. +</p> + +<p> +The piano is called an inadequate instrument. Perhaps it is, until you +hear Cecilia play. Then by some secret sympathy you find yourself +murmuring, "Not so sweetly sang Plumer as thou sangest, mild, +childlike, pastoral M----; a flute's breathing less divinely +whispering than thy Arcadian melodies when, in tones worthy of Arden, +thou didst chant that song sung by Amiens to the banished Duke, which +proclaims the winter wind more lenient than for a man to be +ungrateful!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxiii">THE MANNERLESS SEX.</a></h2> + +<p> +To be told that the lily is not the flower of vestals, but of Venus, +could not be more surprising than to be assured that the mannerless +sex is not that of the troubadour Rudel, but of the Lady of Tripoli, +to whom he sang. Such a suggestion is, of course, but a merry fancy. +Could any critic, however inclined to misogyny, seriously allege +ill-manners against the sex of Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother? Yet +this is precisely what has been recently done. +</p> + +<p> +One censor enumerates and catalogues and classifies the sins against +good manners of which the sex is guilty. He presents a philosophical +analysis of the recondite forms of feminine discourtesy. It is the +ancient sage again pitilessly exposing the Lamia. It is Circe +out-Circed. He details the degrees of offence--in young women, in +women who are no longer classed as girls, in nearly all women, in +women with the fewest social duties. Then the boundless Sahara of +ill-manners opening before him, and with a certain zest of unsparing +scrutiny, he treats of the behavior of women in the horse-cars, at the +railway station buying tickets, at the post-office, where the rule is +imperative, first come first served, but where this chief of sinners +presses for a reversal of the beneficent rule of equality in her +favor. +</p> + +<p> +Still more flagrant aspects of misconduct rise upon the censor's view +of the sex. The shameful or shocking treatment by woman of those whom +she holds to be her inferiors cries to Heaven. Her heartless detention +of railway porters staggering under their burdens, her browbeating of +"tradespeople," cause this observer of fine susceptibilities and an +acute sense of the becoming to lament the desuetude of the +ducking-stool. The more general outrage, however, apparently common to +the sex from Helen of Troy to Florence Nightingale, is, according to +our censor, the spite of women towards each other, which mounts into +an ecstasy of rudeness when "woman goes a-shopping." +</p> + +<p> +But our Cato the elder does not permit man truculently to exalt +himself by contrast with discourteous woman. He expressly disclaims +the declaration of the implication that man is mannerly, while woman +is not. In many men he remarks indifference to rudimentary courtesies, +and in many women a gentle regard for others which deserves even +eulogy. The sum of the whole matter, nevertheless, is that the average +woman is more neglectful of common courtesy than the average man. +</p> + +<p> +"And no wonder," exclaims Cato the younger, "for the foolish fondness +of man teaches her discourtesy." If man, instead of giving her his +seat in the railway car, and slavishly removing his hat in the +elevator, and acquiescing in her tyrannical hat at the theatre, +insisted upon his legal rights in a bargain, and required the railroad +company to furnish without evasion the commodity of seats for which it +has been paid, or if he brought the manager to task for allowing one +of his customers to steal what he has sold to another--namely, a view +of the play--the world would tremble on the edge of the millennium of +good manners. +</p> + +<p> +This terrible arraignment is a comprehensive accusation of selfishness +against the sex. But it seems to be a generalization founded on a +local and restricted observation. It is true of the woman of many +artists and critics. The women of Du Maurier, for instance, belong to +"a set," but they are not representatives of a sex. Becky Sharp is no +more a typical woman than Amelia, or Scott's Rebecca. Major Dobbin is +as much a type of men as Lord Steyne. Should our social censor +sequester himself for a time in any remote rural community, it would +hardly occur to him to signalize the sex of the rural wives and +mothers as the selfish sex. And in town, although there are a few +fleeting hours of flattered youth in which the beautiful and fortunate +Helen may tread on air and breathe adulation until she feels herself a +goddess, yet a newer and younger Helen is always gently pushing her +from the throne. Of all seasons that of blossoms is the briefest, and +the maturer Helen, of whom the sex is composed, is not wayward and +selfish, is no longer "uncertain, coy, and hard to please," but +patient, self-sacrificing, and true. +</p> + +<p> +Man was self-convicted from the beginning. Could there be more +ineffable selfishness than Adam's plea in the garden? "The woman whom +thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree and I did eat." Had +Eve been of no finer stuff than he, she would have left him there. But +his craven answer at once revealed the essential weakness that +demanded the devoted stay of unselfish constancy. Were woman the +ever-selfish, Eve would have abandoned Adam to himself while she +tripped to solitary pastures new. But the same quality that sustains +the secluded farmer and his household in the hills supported the timid +tiller of the first garden as the sword flamed behind him over the +closing gate of Eden. If Adam plained that Eve had lost him Paradise, +does not every son of Adam own that she has regained it for him? +</p> + +<p> +The watchful traveller in city cars, or wherever his fate may guide, +is not struck by the discourtesy of the gentler sex. The observable +phenomenon in city transit is the resolute, aggressive, conscious +selfishness of man hiding behind a newspaper, with an air of +unconsciousness designed to deceive, or brazening it out with an +uneasy aspect of defending his rights. This is the spectacle, and not +a supercilious assumption on the part of the shop-girl. Her courteous +refusal to take a seat, or courteous acceptance of it, is more +familiar than the courteous proffer. +</p> + +<p> +Cato the younger suggests that it is a wrong that seats should not be +provided, and holds that the company should be compelled to furnish +the accommodation for which it is paid. It is a Daniel come to +judgment, but how shall it be done? Shall men keep their seats until, +by sheer shame, and in deference to indignant public protest, the +company does its duty? But would the shame and indignation be due to +the consciousness that the accommodation paid for was not provided? +Would they not arise rather from the consciousness of the peculiar +wrong that the gentler sex should be so incommoded? And, if so, while +the incommodation lasts, what but the selfishness of men devolves it +upon women! But if men should agree to surrender their seats that +women should be first accommodated, is there any doubt that the wrong +would be speedily righted? And to what would this be due but to the +fact that the selfishness of men would insist upon the comfort of +which, while the incommodation lasts, they deprive women? +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, if all men in crowded cars should resolutely keep all women +standing, the wrong would not be righted, because women would submit +with unselfish patience, and because corporations have no souls. The +better plan, therefore, is that all men shall refuse to see a woman +stand, because if men are really discomforted by their own courtesy +they will compel redress. +</p> + +<p> +In a world turned topsy-turvy, where Cordelia and Isabella and Juliet +were mannerless, the other sex might be eulogized by distinction as +mannerly. But in this world is the gentle Bayard as truly the type of +the average man as Jeanie Deans of the average woman? +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxiv">ROBERT BROWNING IN FLORENCE.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is more than forty years since Margaret Fuller first gave +distinction to the literary notices and reviews of the New York +<i>Tribune</i>. Miss Fuller was a woman of extraordinary scholarly +attainments and intellectual independence, the friend of Emerson and +of the "transcendental" leaders, and her critical papers were the best +then published, and were fitly succeeded by those of her scholarly +friend, George Ripley. It was her review in the <i>Tribune</i> of +Browning's early dramas and the "Bells and Pomegranates" that +introduced him to such general knowledge and appreciation among +cultivated readers in this country that it is not less true of +Browning than of Carlyle that he was first better known in America +than at home. +</p> + +<p> +It was but about four years before the publication of Miss Fuller's +paper that the Boston issue of Tennyson's two volumes had delighted +the youth of the time with the consciousness of the appearance of a +new English poet. The eagerness and enthusiasm with which Browning was +welcomed soon after were more limited in extent, but they were even +more ardent, and the devoted zeal of Mr. Levi Thaxter as a Browning +missionary and pioneer forecast the interest from which the Browning +societies of later days have sprung. When Matthew Arnold was told in a +small and remote farming village in New England that there had been a +lecture upon Browning in the town the week before, he stopped in +amazement, and said, "Well, that is the most surprising and +significant fact I have heard in America." +</p> + +<p> +It was in those early days of Browning's fame, and in the studio of +the sculptor Powers, in Florence, that the youthful Easy Chair took up +a visiting-card, and, reading the name Mr. Robert Browning, asked, +with eager earnestness, whether it was Browning the poet. Powers +turned his large, calm, lustrous eyes upon the youth, and answered, +with some surprise at the warmth of the question: +</p> + +<p> +"It is a young Englishman, recently married, who is here with his +wife, an invalid. He often comes to the studio." +</p> + +<p> +"Good Heaven!" exclaimed the youth, "it must be Browning and Elizabeth +Barrett." +</p> + +<p> +Powers, with the half-bewildered air of one suddenly made conscious +that he had been entertaining angels unawares, said, reflectively, "I +think we must have them to tea." +</p> + +<p> +The youth begged to take the card which bore the poet's address, and, +hastening to his room near the Piazza Novella, he wrote a note asking +permission for a young American to call and pay his respects to Mr. +and Mrs. Browning, but wrote it in terms which, however warm, would +yet permit it to be put aside if it seemed impertinent, or if, for any +reason, such a call were not desired. The next morning betimes the +note was despatched, and a half-hour had not passed when there was a +brisk rap at the Easy Chair's door. He opened it, and saw a young man, +who briskly inquired, +</p> + +<p> +"Is Mr. Easy Chair here?" +</p> + +<p> +"That is my name." +</p> + +<p> +"I am Robert Browning." +</p> + +<p> +Browning shook hands heartily with his young American admirer, and +thanked him for his note. The poet was then about thirty-five. His +figure was not large, but compact, erect, and active; the face smooth, +the hair dark; the aspect that of active intelligence, and of a man of +the world. He was in no way eccentric, either in manner or appearance. +He talked freely, with great vivacity, and delightfully, rising and +walking about the room as his talk sparkled on. He heard, with evident +pleasure, but with entire simplicity and manliness, of the American +interest in his works and in those of Mrs. Browning, and the Easy +Chair gave him a copy of Miss Fuller's paper in the <i>Tribune</i>. +</p> + +<p> +It was a bright and, to the Easy Chair, a wonderfully happy hour. As +he went, the poet said that Mrs. Browning would certainly expect to +give Mr. Easy Chair a cup of tea in the evening, and with a brisk and +gay good-bye, Browning was gone. +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair blithely hied him to the Cafe Done, and ordered of the +flower-girl the most perfect of nosegays, with such fervor that she +smiled, and when she brought the flowers in the afternoon, said, with +sympathy and meaning: "Eccola, signore! per la donna bellissima!" +</p> + +<p> +It was not in the Casa Guidi that the Brownings were then living, but +in an apartment in the Via della Scala, not far from the place or +square most familiar to strangers in Florence--the Piazza Trinita. +Through several rooms the Easy Chair passed, Browning leading the way, +until at the end they entered a smaller room arranged with an air of +English comfort, where, at a table, bending over a tea-urn, sat a +slight lady, her long curls drooping forward. "Here," said Browning, +addressing her with a tender diminutive--"here is Mr. Easy Chair." +And, as the bright eyes but wan face of the lady turned towards him, +and she put out her hand, Mr. Easy Chair recalled the first words of +her verse he had ever known: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "'Onora, Onora!' her mother is calling,<br> + She sits at the lattice, and hears the dew falling,<br> + Drop after drop from the sycamore laden<br> + With dew as with blossom, and calls home the maiden.<br> + 'Night cometh, Onora!'" +</p> + +<p> +The most kindly welcome and pleasant chat followed, Browning's gayety +dashing and flashing in, with a sense of profuse and bubbling +vitality, glancing at a hundred topics; and when there was some +allusion to his "Sordello," he asked, quickly, with an amused smile, +"Have you read it?" The Easy Chair pleaded that he had not seen it. +"So much the better. Nobody understands it. Don't read it, except in +the revised form, which is coming." The revised form has come long +ago, and the Easy Chair has read, and probably supposes that he +understands. But Thackeray used to say that he did not read Browning +because he could not comprehend him, adding, ruefully, "I have no head +above my eyes." +</p> + +<p> +A few days later-- +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "O gift of God! O perfect day!"-- +</p> + +<p> +the Easy Chair went with Mr. and Mrs. Browning to Vallombrosa, and the +one incident most clearly remembered is that of Browning's seating +himself at the organ in the chapel, and playing--some Gregorian chant, +perhaps, or hymn of Pergolesi's. It was enough to the enchanted eyes +of his young companion that they saw him who was already a great +English poet sitting at the organ where the young Milton had sat, and +touching the very keys which Milton's hand had pressed. +</p> + +<p> +It was midsummer in Italy, but the high, narrow streets of Florence +hold a protecting shade over the lingering pilgrim, and from such +companionship as that of the Via della Scala even Venice long wooed in +vain. But at last, reluctantly, although the fascinating way lay +through Bologna and Ferrara, the journey began towards Venice; and in +that city, so early and always dear to Browning, whose romantic life +and story most deeply touched and stirred his imagination, and in +which he lately died, the Easy Chair received from the poet a glimpse +of his earliest impressions. +</p> + +<p> +Writing from Casa Guidi, in Florence, on the 9th of August, 1847--Casa +Guidi, upon which a tablet records that there Elizabeth Barrett and +Robert Browning lived, and "Casa Guidi Windows," "Sonnets from the +Portuguese," and "Aurora Leigh" were written--Browning says: +</p> + +<p> +"The people of the house there [Via della Scala] told us honestly + on the morning of your departure that they could only receive us + for a single month, at the expiration of which were to begin + certain whitewashings and repaintings. We continued our quest, + therefore, and at last found out this cool, airy apartment, + which we shall occupy for another month or six weeks, whatever + be our subsequent plans, for Rome, or for the Venice you + describe.... +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "I spent a month of entire delight there some eight years ago,<br> + and tho' nothing I have since seen has effaced the impressions<br> + of my visit, yet your fresher feelings <i>bring out</i> whatever<br> + looks faint or dubious in them, as a gentle sponging might<br> + revive the gone glory of some old picture. (You must know I<br> + have seen an exquisite copy of a Giorgione, the original of<br> + which--so I was told--grew only visible and intelligible when<br> + thus wetted.) I am glad the railroad and gas-lighting do Venice<br> + no more wrong, and that you find all the old strange quietness,<br> + and--ought I to be glad of this, too?--depopulation; for of<br> + late years we have heard a great deal of the returning life and<br> + prosperity of the place; and Mr. Valery, I observe, retracts<br> + his earlier bodements of a speedy extinction of what little<br> + glimmer of light he still saw. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "As for me, I remember that the accounts of the depreciation of<br> + the value of houses, coupled with the indifference of the<br> + inhabitants of them, were enough to set one dreaming (in one's<br> + gondola!) of getting to be as rich as Rothschild, buying all<br> + Venice, turning out everybody, and ensconcing one's self in the<br> + Doge's palace, among the dropping gold ornaments and flakes of<br> + what was lustrous color in Titian's or Tintoret's time, waiting<br> + for the proper consummation of all things and the sea's advent.<br> +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "But do you really find the air so light and pure in this by<br> + right mephitic time of August, with those close <i>calles</i>,<br> + pestilential lagunes, etc., etc., and all that our informants<br> + frighten us with? Should a winter in Venice prove no more<br> + formidable in its way than it seems a summer does, why, we may<br> + have cause to regret our determination to give up our original<br> + plans. I am sure your kindness will tell us, should it be<br> + enabled, any good news of the winter and spring climate--if<br> + weak lungs may brave it with impunity.".... +</p> + +<p> +To this letter of Browning's, written in his young manhood--he was +then thirty-five--about the Venice which always charmed him, may be +well added the words of the Lady of Mura, written only a few weeks +before the poet's death. Asolo is a sequestered town, which Browning +said that he discovered, and in which he fell under the glamour of +very Italy. In the prologue to his last volume, written in September +before the letter that follows, the poet says: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "How many a year, my Asolo,<br> + Since--one step just from sea to land--<br> + I found you, loved, yet feared you so--<br> + For natural objects seemed to stand<br> + Palpably fire-clothed!" +</p> + +<p> +The letter says: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "I have bought in ancient Asolo a narrow, tall tower, into which<br> + in the last century (very early) a house was built, and this<br> + curious place I have selected for villeggiatura when the<br> + scirocco is too strong in Venice for health or comfort. It was<br> + here that Browning fifty years ago was inspired to write<br> + 'Sordello' and 'Pippa Passes,' so to me it has that charm added<br> + to many others. It is such a rough and out-of-the-way little<br> + place that you may only know it by name. There is no hotel, no<br> + railway, no factory, no sign of modern civilization. It is on a<br> + hill, which has an ancient ruined fortress at the top, and was<br> + an old Roman settlement, with the usual Roman <i>mise en scene</i>,<br> + baths, amphitheatre, etc., in the days of Pliny, who somewhere<br> + mentions it. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Near my tower, which is built in the ancient wall of the<br> + mediaeval town, is the tower of Caterina Cornaro, and one sees<br> + from most of my windows, so high are they, the whole Marca<br> + Trevigiana, with its tragic and dramatic associations of the<br> + early Middle Ages; the Eccelini, the Azzi, the incessant wars<br> + in which towns were treated by the tyrants like shuttlecocks in<br> + the game of battledoor.<br> +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Browning and his sister have been here for the last six weeks,<br> + and you may fancy how intensely the poet enjoys revisiting<br> + after so many years the scenes of his youthful inspirations. He<br> + was only twenty-five or six when he first discovered Asolo....<br> + Few young people are so gay and cheerful as he and his dear old<br> + sister.".... +</p> + +<p> +It is a pleasant last glimpse of Browning at Asolo, where the +master-spell of Italy first touched his genius, and whither at the end +he came--"<i>asolare</i>, to disport in the open air, amuse one's self at +random"--at heart and in temper of the same unquenched and +unquenchable vitality as on that summer day long ago when he sat where +Milton had sat, and pressed, as Milton had pressed, the keys of the +organ at Vallombrosa. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?<br> + And did he stop and speak to you?<br> + And did you speak to him again?--<br> + How strange it seems and new!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxv">PLAYERS.</a></h2> + +<p> +It is no wonder that Longfellow wrote a sonnet to Mrs. Fanny Kemble +upon her Readings. Those evenings were indeed "happy," and "too +swiftly sped." Mrs. Kemble's ample person draped in gold-colored silk, +her flowing black hair folded and braided in some large style about +her head, her rich and low and exquisitely modulated voice, her +queenly presence, her magnificence of self-possession--all this +fascinating personality made her reading memorable, and like a torch +which reveals the perfect detail of great sculpture or architecture, +her genius gave the whole value to every character and scene of the +play. Did Whitfield pronounce the word Mesopotamia like a wind harp +sighing exquisite music? So Mrs. Kemble's recitation of the soliloquy +of Jaques left one line in the recollection of one hearer, which, like +an enchanted fruit, is constantly renewing its freshness and flavor. +It is one of the most familiar lines in Shakespeare, +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "All the world's a stage,<br> + And all the men and women merely players." +</p> + +<p> +The Easy Chair was introduced to Mr. John Gilbert not very long before +the death of that delightful actor. It was in the morning, and Mr. +Gilbert was dressed with gentlemanly simplicity and propriety. But as +he bowed courteously the good player seemed to have stepped aside for +a moment from his real life, and to be not quite at ease when saluted +by his own name rather than by that of Sir Peter, or Squire +Hardcastle, or Sir Anthony Absolute. Methought, as the sages of the +theatre say, that the stage was a more natural life to him. He knew +the part of his own personality less familiarly than some other parts. +The modest gentleman seemed half anxious to escape, as if he were +caught in an undress, and pined for the security of the embroidered +coat of a character. +</p> + +<p> +Let us stop for a moment to say how fine he was in that embroidered +coat. It is hard to conceive that Mr. Gilbert can have any adequate +successor in his own parts. He created the standard, and when living +memory can no longer measure the comparative excellence of other +performances of them, they will be tested by the traditions of +Gilbert. The plain good-breeding of his Hardcastle had a rustic +quality, or flavor, rather, which was delicately discriminated from +the courtly refinement of his Sir Peter. There was the essential +gentleman in both, but it was the country gentleman in one and the +city gentleman in the other. The touch of chuckling senility in +Hardcastle's pleasure with Diggory's enjoyment of his stories, and the +uxorious fondness of Sir Peter, are both of a kind, but they are not +the same, and you feel the difference. Neither of these characters can +be dissociated from Gilbert by those who have seen him in them, and to +know that they will not be seen again under the same conditions and +support is to be conscious of a public loss. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Gilbert was a professional player. But since Mrs. Kemble's voice +not only pronounced the words describing us all as players, but +suggested to that hearer the various significance of the words, how +the universality of the truth becomes more and more apparent! In all +the great interests of life--religion, politics, business--we have our +exits and our entrances, and, in this, unlike Gilbert, we show +ourselves to each other not as the men we are, but as players. Here is +Sylvanus, for instance, who may stand for us all, most amiable of men +if you could happen upon him in some happy undress moment. But they +are few. The poor fellow is cast for many parts, and he plays with +little intermission. +</p> + +<p> +One of his characters is the politician. He depicts a furious +partisan, and is so lost in his part that while the man Sylvanus +speaks the truth and desires it, yet in his character of politician it +is not truth or fair play that he wants, but whatever tends to advance +and aggrandize his party. He carefully depreciates those with whom he +does not agree. He cultivates distrust of every word spoken and every +deed done by the other party. Personally he likes many of his +opponents. His personal relations show that he does not really think +them the rascals and impostors and traitors that in his part of +politician he declares them to be. It seems often to a dispassionate +observer that when he accuses them as politicians of lying, cheating, +and stealing, he estimates them by his knowledge of himself as a +politician. He supposes that they would not hesitate to do what, +without compunction, he does himself. They are all players together, +and this is a kind of stage rant designed to impress the groundlings, +who, after all, compose the larger part of the audience. +</p> + +<p> +Sylvanus also plays the part of a religious sectary. As a private +person he enjoys greatly the wit and intelligence and stored +experience of life which distinguish his neighbor Eugenius. The purity +and elevation of his neighbor brighten the days on which they meet, +and he is always a better and a wiser man when they part. But these +are his off hours, his moments of vacation. He appears on the stage as +a sectary, and plays his part with resolute energy. This part again is +that of a man not pursuing truth, but so occupied with maintaining his +own conception of truth that he has no time to test it. It is a comedy +of great humor, because Sylvanus, as a sectary, stands against all +comers to protect a spring of deep and clear water, and is so +engrossed in guarding the sacred wave from the least pollution that he +does not find time to remark that it is not a spring at all, but a dry +sand-pit. +</p> + +<p> +In the incessant playing of all these parts to which his life and +powers are chiefly devoted the charming personality of Sylvanus is +quite lost. The man himself, divested of the stage costume and the +text of his parts, is almost unknown. Others could play the politician +or the sectary or the trader, but nobody could play Sylvanus. He is a +modest, intelligent man, who knows that nobody can pre-empt truth or +honesty or urbanity; that good men do not become bad by holding views +which he may think to be wrong; and that his friends may be deceived +as readily as the friends of others. These things, which he recognizes +as the merest commonplaces when he is off the stage, he derides as +utter nonsense when he is in the midst of a representation. Then, in +the most vehement way, which is the stage tradition of the part, he +shouts that everybody who would do well must run to his side, as if we +were all passengers on a ship which is capsizing, but would be righted +if everybody on board lost his own balance. +</p> + +<p> +It is because even such men as Sylvanus take to the stage that +Shakespeare, "sitting pensive and alone, above the hundred-handed play +of his imagination," calls all men and women merely players. Like John +Gilbert, although we do not play characters so amusing and harmless as +his upon the stage, when we are not on it we seem to be a little lost, +and secretly crave the theatre. It is remarked that when actors have +an off night they go and sit in front at the play. +</p> + +<p> +A charming comedy often arises from forgetfulness of the fact that a +play is a play, and not real. One of the finest and not unfamiliar +strokes of comedy in this kind is that of a seasoned veteran in the +part of a politician who turns upon another veteran with whom he +differs upon a question of expediency, and striking an attitude, with +an air and tone worthy of the great Folair himself, or Mr. Crummies in +his loftier moments, exclaims, "Apostate!" It is conceded that there +has been nothing finer on the stage since Dick Turpin pointed his +finger at Jonnathan Wild and sneered, impressively, "Thief!" +</p> + +<p> +It is well for the peace of mind of the nervously disposed to remember +that if we are all merely players, we must not take the play too +seriously. A play is a simulation for entertainment, and as we look at +Sylvanus and our other friends playing the politician or the sectary, +we must constantly bear in mind that it is a play, and only a play. If +we really thought he came hither as a man and not a sectary, for +instance, it were pity of our life. If the part is played too really, +let Sylvanus heed an earlier wisdom. "Let him name his name, and tell +them plainly he is Snug, the joiner." +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxvi">UNMUSICAL BOXES.</a></h2> + +<p> +It was a sage of the gentler sex who, after many years of experience, +remarked that "men are queer!" That they are so in a positive sense no +shrewd observer of mankind would deny, but that they are so +comparatively or absolutely would be a very hardy assertion. If the +queen of the household is of opinion that her associate majesty is +very queer because he enjoys a torrid height of the mercury in the +drawing-room, he holds probably a similar view of her fondness in the +dining-room for what he describes as burnt beef. A hopeless bachelor +who prided himself upon what he defiantly called his freedom, used to +say, with an air of commiseration and extreme caution, that he +supposed his married friends were probably what they called happy. But +he added that he never knew any of the happy pairs to agree upon the +proper warmth of a room, or the true turn of a roast, or the just +amount of fresh air. Still, he said, demurely, I do not assert that +their matrimonial felicity was not great. +</p> + +<p> +But the axiom of the sage of the better sex, that men are queer, has +been strongly confirmed by a recent decision of the authorities of the +Metropolitan Opera-house in New York. That important body, producing +the figures, has announced in effect that as it is clear from the +accounts that the presentation of German opera is more profitable than +that of Italian and French opera combined, it is evident that the +public desires to hear Italian and French opera, and therefore for the +present the German opera will be discontinued. This is certainly +delightful proof that men are queer, and that one respected group of +them by a signal display of queerness are anxious to contribute to the +gayety of nations. It is a striking illustration of the superiority of +man to money, and in the mad struggle for a mere material advantage, +this devotion to pure art, condemning the expense, is a noble tribute +to the unselfishness of human nature. +</p> + +<p> +Another view has been advanced which is also interesting to the +student of mankind. It is put in this way, that if the cost of the +Italian and French opera should be a hundred thousand dollars in a +season more than that of the German, yet it will be gladly paid by +those denizens of boxes who have an insatiable desire to proceed with +their intellectual cultivation by audible conversation during the +performance. The argument is that these devotees of the intellect hold +that nothing is lost by not hearing the Italian and French music, and +that the evening can be much more profitably devoted to the +stimulating conversation which takes place in an opera box. +</p> + +<p> +Still another view is even more honorable to the boxes, while it does +not depreciate the performance. This view holds that the operatic +situation offers a choice of delights, an embarrassment of riches. +</p> + +<p> +Charming and elevating as the music may be, yet still more lofty and +inspiring is the conversation, and the boxes are therefore compelled +to an alternative, and very naturally and properly choose their own +talk to the music. The decision of the authorities may be consequently +held to be designed to secure a continuation of conversation in the +boxes upon the lowest terms of loss. +</p> + +<p> +This cannot but be regarded by a judicious public as a wise +conclusion. It is, of course, desirable that the wit and wisdom of the +box chat should continue, but at the least sacrifice; and the least +sacrifice seems to be considered the Italian and French opera together +with a certain sum of money. Upon these lowest terms every friend of +humanity will be glad to know that the colloquial delights of the +boxes will be perpetuated. It is even hinted also that there will be +no disposition in an unmannerly parquet to hiss the interruption of +Italian and French opera. If the boxes think fit upon intellectual +grounds to accompany the dying falls of French and Italian strains +with a cheerful murmur of talk, the parquet will acquiesce without a +sense of loss, if, indeed, upon such occasions there should be any +parquet remaining. +</p> + +<p> +The noble sacrifice of those public benefactors, the unmusical boxes, +is still more strikingly illustrated by the fact that the Italian +opera droops in other operatic countries as with us, and that not only +in England, which has been the El Dorado of the artists of the +Southern school, but in Italy itself, the opera of Italy has declined. +The truth probably is that for some time in all musically cultivated +countries Italian opera, which was a traditional fashion, was largely +maintained as a social opportunity under conditions which most favored +personal display and made the least intellectual demand. It supplied +also to the society in the boxes at the San Carlo, the Pergola, the +Scala, the Italiens, and Her Majesty's, the entertainment, in the +persons of famous prima-donnas, of an extraordinary vocal performance. +</p> + +<p> +The charm of that performance was undeniable. The rippling and +glittering gayety of Rossini, the sweet and tender melody of Bellini, +the sparkle of Auber, the romantic pathos of Donizetti, the brilliant +melodramatic strain of Verdi--none who have felt the spell will deny +the enchantment. But <i>tempora mutantur</i>; one age with its spirit and +taste succeeds another. A deeper, stronger, more earnest taste in +music, a higher general cultivation, another theory of opera, have +come into the house and seated themselves in the parquet, and look +askance at the boxes as the Quartier St. Antoine looked upon the +Faubourg St. Germain. The boxes, with the innocent ignorance of the +<i>oeil-de-boeuf</i>, propose to maintain the old order, to stand by +Bellini and Donizetti and the last half-century. It is touching and +interesting. <i>Vive l'opera italienne! Vivent les loges!</i> So Marie +Antoinette appeared in the balcony of the banqueting hall at +Versailles, and so the <i>garde du roi</i> sprang to its feet with gallant +enthusiasm, rattling its sabres and pledging the Queen. It is a heroic +story, a romantic tradition.--And the Queen? And the <i>garde du roi</i>? +</p> + +<p> +The authorities of the opera invite the city to an interesting +entertainment. Nothing has seemed more natural than the precedence of +German opera at a time in which the German musical genius and +cultivation are dominant, and in a city in which the German audience +abounds. And now, for our pleasure, Sisyphus will take a turn at the +stone, and the lovely Danaides of the boxes, in the shining garments +of Worth, with soft disdain of difficulty, will essay with sieves of +the finest texture to bale out the ocean. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="xxvii">THE DINNER IN ARCADIA.</a></h2> + +<p> +The Easy Chair went up lately to the hills to enjoy the annual dinner +at Arcadia. It is a summer feast which tradition assigns to some old +academy in those parts, supposed to have been founded by a pastor of +the village in the days before railroads, when there was no path to +Arcadia except that which is still sometimes pursued. It is a winding +sylvan way through woods and by singing streams and solitary farms, +and as you drive slowly on you feel yourself penetrating farther and +farther into a rural seclusion to which the modern world has hardly +found its way, and where you might expect to surprise a peaceful +community of ancient New England, as in threading the remoter recesses +and heights of the Catskill you might come upon a party of Hendrik +Hudson's crew. +</p> + +<p> +In this loneliness of the hills the young pastor, who was in delicate +health and unmarried, relieved the sombre severity of clerical life by +teaching a few boys and girls. By that fond indirection he brightened +with fresh air and natural music and sunshine the dry routine of his +unmated days. For the cheerless solemnity of the life of the country +clergy in those times it is hard to imagine. The missionaries to East +London tell us that the peculiar characteristic of that vast region, +swarming with human beings, is want of entertainment. The people there +do not laugh. They have no diversion. There is nothing pleasant to see +or to hear. It is a huge stone mill in which human life is ground up +in an endless and barren monotony of hard work. +</p> + +<p> +It is odd to trace any resemblance to it in a life so different; but +the old-fashioned Calvinistic divine in his small country parish, +revolving in an actual world of petty details, and in another world of +grim theological speculation and absorption in the contemplation of +death, must have seldom smiled. The young pastor was bound by no vow +of celibacy, but he knew that his life must be brief, and he gladly +surrounded himself with children in the guise of pupils, and when he +died he left a Bible to his church, a small sum for the education of +heathen youth in America, some manuscript sermons to his parents, and +the rest of his little property to found an academy for godly youth. +</p> + +<p> +This at least is the tradition. But when Silvertongue came once to the +dinner he put the story aside airily as a pleasant fiction, and +averred that the annual feast was instituted simply to glorify two +legendary friends of the town and enjoy them forever. This had a sound +that contrasted not inaptly with the seriousness of the hills, and +suggested an origin not unlike that of the feasts in the Lacedemonian +worship of the Dioscuri. Still another theory which is like to grow +with time associates it with the memory of two strangers of benignant +aspect, who appeared suddenly in the village like the gray-haired +regicide at Hadley, and aiding the towns-people not with a sword, but +with a bounty, departed. They are all pleasant tales. But the earliest +tradition is likely to be the truest. It was the good pastor who sowed +the modest seed which has now sprung up a hundred-fold. +</p> + +<p> +This year the text of the afternoon, for the dinner begins at one +o'clock, was the report of the census that the town is declining in +population. The guests were a company of the people of the hills. They +came from a circuit of a score of miles. The dinner is served cold, +and the guests feast +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "In summer, when the days are long,<br> + On dainty chicken, snow-white bread," +</p> + +<p> +and by two o'clock the blue gauze is spread over the remnants, the +benches are turned so that the whole company faces the speakers, and +then speech begins. +</p> + +<p> +It was the verdict of the hills upon the report of the census that if +the number of individuals is decreasing, the number of families is +not. The ancient quiverfuls are disappearing, and the tale of children +in a family is diminishing. But the general welfare of the family +itself is increasing, while the marvellous facilities of communication +bring all resources into the hills, and the remote little village of +the old pastor is practically becoming a suburb. +</p> + +<p> +If a higher general welfare prevails, what matter if the population +somewhat declines? Quality is better than quantity. If, as a Senator +of Massachusetts says, the people of the hills are merely descending +into the valleys, who can complain if they bring with them the simple +and hardy virtues which grow upon the hills like the great +agricultural staples? Let the census say what it will, statistics need +not frighten until they show a decadence of character as well as a +decline of population. If, however, character is decaying, if the +primary conditions of that fundamental life of the country are +changing, a general change may be anticipated. But in Arcadia those +signs do not yet appear. Whether there are more or fewer persons than +there were fifty years ago, the comfort, the resources, the +opportunities are constantly greater. Undoubtedly they bring their +dangers and disadvantages. But the same steady force of character that +dealt with the old difficulties can deal with the new. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps the trouble lies less in the depletion of the hills than in +the surfeit of the shore. The dragon of the glittering scales that +threatens American youth and maidens may be rather Sybaris by the sea +than Arcadia on the hills. It may be also rather the annual +half-million of utter aliens that come from other lands, strange to us +in everything that fosters a homogeneous national life, rather than +the hundreds who come down morally as well as numerically from the +uplands nearer heaven. +</p> + +<p> +So in the larger academy which the young pastor unconsciously founded +the various voices of suggestion, experience, and reflection spoke. It +was a rural feast, an Arcadian holiday, such as the Swedish poet +Tegner might have sketched in simple and melodious measure, or Grecian +artists carved upon a frieze. +</p> + +<p> +Then in the late and beautiful afternoon, and later in the light of +the full moon, the guests dispersed, weaving the fragmentary hints of +speech into completer views and purposes of patriotic life, as the +children of the fairies wove the scattered shreds of gold into shining +garments. Slowly over the hills by every bowery road, towards loftier +Goshen and Hawley, and higher Chesterfield, and Plainfield where +Byrant sang to the Water-fowl, down winding ways to Buckland and +Charlemont and Zoar, eastward to Conway and Deerfield and remoter +Sunderland, and all the wide valley of the Connecticut, the pilgrims +wended homeward. +</p> + +<p> +THE END. +</p> + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From the Easy Chair, vol. 1 +by George William Curtis + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EASY CHAIR, VOL. 1 *** + +This file should be named easch10h.htm or easch10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, easch11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, easch10ah.htm + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Brendan Lane +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/easch10h.zip b/old/easch10h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9dafae9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/easch10h.zip |
