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diff --git a/9248-h/9248-h.htm b/9248-h/9248-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3df322 --- /dev/null +++ b/9248-h/9248-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1522 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg E-text of Other Tales and Sketches, by Nathaniel + Hawthorne + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's Other Tales and Sketches, by Nathaniel Hawthorne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Other Tales and Sketches + +Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne + + +Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9248] +First Posted: September 25, 2003 +Last Updated: December 15, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OTHER TALES AND SKETCHES *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger and Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h4> + THE DOLIVER ROMANCE AND OTHER PIECES<br /> + </h4> + <h4> + TALES AND SKETCHES<br /> + </h4> + <h3> + By Nathaniel Hawthorne<br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + OTHER TALES AND SKETCHES<br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p class="noindent"> + CONTENTS:<br /> <a href="#niagara">My Visit To Niagara</a><br /> <a + href="#ring">The Antique Ring</a><br /> <a href="#graves">Graves And + Goblins</a><br /> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="niagara"></a> + </p> + <h3> + MY VISIT TO NIAGARA. + </h3> + <p> + Never did a pilgrim approach Niagara with deeper enthusiasm than mine. I + had lingered away from it, and wandered to other scenes, because my + treasury of anticipated enjoyments, comprising all the wonders of the + world, had nothing else so magnificent, and I was loath to exchange the + pleasures of hope for those of memory so soon. At length the day came. The + stage-coach, with a Frenchman and myself on the back seat, had already + left Lewiston, and in less than an hour would set us down in Manchester. I + began to listen for the roar of the cataract, and trembled with a + sensation like dread, as the moment drew nigh, when its voice of ages must + roll, for the first time, on my ear. The French gentleman stretched + himself from the window, and expressed loud admiration, while, by a sudden + impulse, I threw myself back and closed my eyes. When the scene shut in, I + was glad to think, that for me the whole burst of Niagara was yet in + futurity. We rolled on, and entered the village of Manchester, bordering + on the falls. + </p> + <p> + I am quite ashamed of myself here. Not that I ran, like a madman to the + falls, and plunged into the thickest of the spray,—never stopping to + breathe, till breathing was impossible: not that I committed this, or any + other suitable extravagance. On the contrary, I alighted with perfect + decency and composure, gave my cloak to the black waiter, pointed out my + baggage, and inquired, not the nearest way to the cataract, but about the + dinner-hour. The interval was spent in arranging my dress. Within the last + fifteen minutes, my mind had grown strangely benumbed, and my spirits + apathetic, with a slight depression, not decided enough to be termed + sadness. My enthusiasm was in a deathlike slumber. Without aspiring to + immortality, as he did, I could have imitated that English traveller, who + turned back from the point where he first heard the thunder of Niagara, + after crossing the ocean to behold it. Many a Western trader, by the by, + has performed a similar act of heroism with more heroic simplicity, + deeming it no such wonderful feat to dine at the hotel and resume his + route to Buffalo or Lewiston, while the cataract was roaring unseen. + </p> + <p> + Such has often been my apathy, when objects, long sought, and earnestly + desired, were placed within my reach. After dinner—at which an + unwonted and perverse epicurism detained me longer than usual—I + lighted a cigar and paced the piazza, minutely attentive to the aspect and + business of a very ordinary village. Finally, with reluctant step, and the + feeling of an intruder, I walked towards Goat Island. At the tollhouse, + there were further excuses for delaying the inevitable moment. My + signature was required in a huge ledger, containing similar records + innumerable, many of which I read. The skin of a great sturgeon, and other + fishes, beasts, and reptiles; a collection of minerals, such as lie in + heaps near the falls; some Indian moccasins, and other trifles, made of + deer-skin and embroidered with beads; several newspapers from Montreal, + New York, and Boston;—all attracted me in turn. Out of a number of + twisted sticks, the manufacture of a Tuscarora Indian, I selected one of + curled maple, curiously convoluted, and adorned with the carved images of + a snake and a fish. Using this as my pilgrim’s staff, I crossed the + bridge. Above and below me were the rapids, a river of impetuous snow, + with here and there a dark rock amid its whiteness, resisting all the + physical fury, as any cold spirit did the moral influences of the scene. + On reaching Goat Island, which separates the two great segments of the + falls, I chose the right-hand path, and followed it to the edge of the + American cascade. There, while the falling sheet was yet invisible, I saw + the vapor that never vanishes, and the Eternal Rainbow of Niagara. + </p> + <p> + It was an afternoon of glorious sunshine, without a cloud, save those of + the cataracts. I gained an insulated rock, and beheld a broad sheet of + brilliant and unbroken foam, not shooting in a curved line from the top of + the precipice, but falling headlong down from height to depth. A narrow + stream diverged from the main branch, and hurried over the crag by a + channel of its own, leaving a little pine-clad island and a streak of + precipice, between itself and the larger sheet. Below arose the mist, on + which was painted a dazzling sun-bow with two concentric shadows,—one, + almost as perfect as the original brightness; and the other, drawn faintly + round the broken edge of the cloud. + </p> + <p> + Still I had not half seen Niagara. Following the verge of the island, the + path led me to the Horseshoe, where the real, broad St. Lawrence, rushing + along on a level with its banks, pours its whole breadth over a concave + line of precipice, and thence pursues its course between lofty crags + towards Ontario. A sort of bridge, two or three feet wide, stretches out + along the edge of the descending sheet, and hangs upon the rising mist, as + if that were the foundation of the frail structure. Here I stationed + myself in the blast of wind, which the rushing river bore along with it. + The bridge was tremulous beneath me, and marked the tremor of the solid + earth. I looked along the whitening rapids, and endeavored to distinguish + a mass of water far above the falls, to follow it to their verge, and go + down with it, in fancy, to the abyss of clouds and storm. Casting my eyes + across the river, and every side, I took in the whole scene at a glance, + and tried to comprehend it in one vast idea. After an hour thus spent, I + left the bridge, and, by a staircase, winding almost interminably round a + post, descended to the base of the precipice. From that point, my path lay + over slippery stones, and among great fragments of the cliff, to the edge + of the cataract, where the wind at once enveloped me in spray, and perhaps + dashed the rainbow round me. Were my long desires fulfilled? And had I + seen Niagara? + </p> + <p> + O that I had never heard of Niagara till I beheld it! Blessed were the + wanderers of old, who heard its deep roar, sounding through the woods, as + the summons to an unknown wonder, and approached its awful brink, in all + the freshness of native feeling. Had its own mysterious voice been the + first to warn me of its existence, then, indeed, I might have knelt down + and worshipped. But I had come thither, haunted with a vision of foam and + fury, and dizzy cliffs, and an ocean tumbling down out of the sky,—a + scene, in short, which nature had too much good taste and calm simplicity + to realize. My mind had struggled to adapt these false conceptions to the + reality, and finding the effort vain, a wretched sense of disappointment + weighed me down. I climbed the precipice, and threw myself on the earth, + feeling that I was unworthy to look at the Great Falls, and careless about + beholding them again. + </p> + <p> + All that night, as there has been and will be, for ages past and to come, + a rushing sound was heard, as if a great tempest were sweeping through the + air. It mingled with my dreams, and made them full of storm and whirlwind. + Whenever I awoke, and heard this dread sound in the air, and the windows + rattling as with a mighty blast, I could not rest again, till looking + forth, I saw how bright the stars were, and that every leaf in the garden + was motionless. Never was a summer night more calm to the eye, nor a gale + of autumn louder to the ear. The rushing sound proceeds from the rapids, + and the rattling of the casements is but an effect of the vibration of the + whole house, shaken by the jar of the cataract. The noise of the rapids + draws the attention from the true voice of Niagara, which is a dull, + muffed thunder, resounding between the cliffs. I spent a wakeful hour at + midnight, in distinguishing its reverberations, and rejoiced to find that + my former awe and enthusiasm were reviving. + </p> + <p> + Gradually, and after much contemplation, I came to know, by my own + feelings, that Niagara is indeed a wonder of the world, and not the less + wonderful, because time and thought must be employed in comprehending it. + Casting aside all preconceived notions, and preparation to be dire-struck + or delighted, the beholder must stand beside it in the simplicity of his + heart, suffering the mighty scene to work its own impression. Night after + night, I dreamed of it, and was gladdened every morning by the + consciousness of a growing capacity to enjoy it. Yet I will not pretend to + the all-absorbing enthusiasm of some more fortunate spectators, nor deny + that very trifling causes would draw my eyes and thoughts from the + cataract. + </p> + <p> + The last day that I was to spend at Niagara, before my departure for the + Far West, I sat upon the Table Rock. This celebrated station did not now, + as of old, project fifty feet beyond the line of the precipice, but was + shattered by the fall of an immense fragment, which lay distant on the + shore below. Still, on the utmost verge of the rock, with my feet hanging + over it, I felt as if suspended in the open air. Never before had my mind + been in such perfect unison with the scene. There were intervals, when I + was conscious of nothing but the great river, rolling calmly into the + abyss, rather descending than precipitating itself, and acquiring tenfold + majesty from its unhurried motion. It came like the march of Destiny. It + was not taken by surprise, but seemed to have anticipated, in all its + course through the broad lakes, that it must pour their collected waters + down this height. The perfect foam of the river, after its descent, and + the ever-varying shapes of mist, rising up, to become clouds in the sky, + would be the very picture of confusion, were it merely transient, like the + rage of a tempest. But when the beholder has stood awhile, and perceives + no lull in the storm, and considers that the vapor and the foam are as + everlasting as the rocks which produce them, all this turmoil assumes a + sort of calmness. It soothes, while it awes the mind. + </p> + <p> + Leaning over the cliff, I saw the guide conducting two adventurers behind + the falls. It was pleasant, from that high seat in the sunshine, to + observe them struggling against the eternal storm of the lower regions, + with heads bent down, now faltering, now pressing forward, and finally + swallowed up in their victory. After their disappearance, a blast rushed + out with an old hat, which it had swept from one of their heads. The rock, + to which they were directing their unseen course, is marked, at a fearful + distance on the exterior of the sheet, by a jet of foam. The attempt to + reach it appears both poetical and perilous to a looker-on, but may be + accomplished without much more difficulty or hazard, than in stemming a + violent northeaster. In a few moments, forth came the children of the + mist. Dripping and breathless, they crept along the base of the cliff, + ascended to the guide’s cottage, and received, I presume, a certificate of + their achievement, with three verses of sublime poetry on the back. + </p> + <p> + My contemplations were often interrupted by strangers, who came down from + Forsyth’s to take their first view of the falls. A short, ruddy, + middle-aged gentleman, fresh from Old England, peeped over the rock, and + evinced his approbation by a broad grin. His spouse, a very robust lady, + afforded a sweet example of maternal solicitude, being so intent on the + safety of her little boy that she did not even glance at Niagara. As for + the child, he gave himself wholly to the enjoyment of a stick of candy. + Another traveller, a native American, and no rare character among us, + produced a volume of Captain Hall’s tour, and labored earnestly to adjust + Niagara to the captain’s description, departing, at last, without one new + idea or sensation of his own. The next comer was provided, not with a + printed book, but with a blank sheet of foolscap, from top to bottom of + which, by means of an ever-pointed pencil, the cataract was made to + thunder. In a little talk, which we had together, he awarded his + approbation to the general view, but censured the position of Goat Island, + observing that it should have been thrown farther to the right, so as to + widen the American falls, and contract those of the Horseshoe. Next + appeared two traders of Michigan, who declared, that, upon the whole, the + sight was worth looking at, there certainly was an immense water-power + here; but that, after all, they would go twice as far to see the noble + stone-works of Lockport, where the Grand Canal is locked down a descent of + sixty feet. They were succeeded by a young fellow, in a homespun cotton + dress, with a staff in his hand, and a pack over his shoulders. He + advanced close to the edge of the rock, where his attention, at first + wavering among the different components of the scene, finally became fixed + in the angle of the Horse shoe falls, which is, indeed, the central point + of interest. His whole soul seemed to go forth and be transported thither, + till the staff slipped from his relaxed grasp, and falling down—down—down—struck + upon the fragment of the Table Rock. + </p> + <p> + In this manner I spent some hours, watching the varied impression, made by + the cataract, on those who disturbed me, and returning to unwearied + contemplation, when left alone. At length my time came to depart. There is + a grassy footpath, through the woods, along the summit of the bank, to a + point whence a causeway, hewn in the side of the precipice, goes winding + down to the Ferry, about half a mile below the Table Rock. The sun was + near setting, when I emerged from the shadow of the trees, and began the + descent. The indirectness of my downward road continually changed the + point of view, and showed me, in rich and repeated succession, now, the + whitening rapids and majestic leap of the main river, which appeared more + deeply massive as the light departed; now, the lovelier picture, yet still + sublime, of Goat Island, with its rocks and grove, and the lesser falls, + tumbling over the right bank of the St. Lawrence, like a tributary stream; + now, the long vista of the river, as it eddied and whirled between the + cliffs, to pass through Ontario toward the sea, and everywhere to be + wondered at, for this one unrivalled scene. The golden sunshine tinged the + sheet of the American cascade, and painted on its heaving spray the broken + semicircle of a rainbow, heaven’s own beauty crowning earth’s sublimity. + My steps were slow, and I paused long at every turn of the descent, as one + lingers and pauses, who discerns a brighter and brightening excellence in + what he must soon behold no more. The solitude of the old wilderness now + reigned over the whole vicinity of the falls. My enjoyment became the more + rapturous, because no poet shared it, nor wretch devoid of poetry profaned + it; but the spot so famous through the world was all my own! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> <a name="ring"></a> + </p> + <h3> + THE ANTIQUE RING. + </h3> + <p> + “Yes, indeed: the gem is as bright as a star, and curiously set,” said + Clara Pembertou, examining an antique ring, which her betrothed lover had + just presented to her, with a very pretty speech. “It needs only one thing + to make it perfect.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” asked Mr. Edward Caryl, secretly anxious for the + credit of his gift. “A modern setting, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “O, no! That would destroy the charm at once,” replied Clara. “It needs + nothing but a story. I long to know how many times it has been the pledge + of faith between two lovers, and whether the vows, of which it was the + symbol, were always kept or often broken. Not that I should be too + scrupulous about facts. If you happen to be unacquainted with its + authentic history, so much the better. May it not have sparkled upon a + queen’s finger? Or who knows but it is the very ring which Posthumus + received from Imogen? In short, you must kindle your imagination at the + lustre of this diamond, and make a legend for it.” + </p> + <p> + Now such a task—and doubtless Clara knew it—was the most + acceptable that could have been imposed on Edward Caryl. He was one of + that multitude of young gentlemen—limbs, or rather twigs of the law—whose + names appear in gilt letters on the front of Tudor’s Buildings, and other + places in the vicinity of the Court House, which seem to be the haunt of + the gentler as well as the severer Muses. Edward, in the dearth of + clients, was accustomed to employ his much leisure in assisting the growth + of American Literature, to which good cause he had contributed not a few + quires of the finest letter-paper, containing some thought, some fancy, + some depth of feeling, together with a young writer’s abundance of + conceits. Sonnets, stanzas of Tennysonian sweetness, tales imbued with + German mysticism, versions from Jean Paul, criticisms of the old English + poets, and essays smacking of Dialistic philosophy, were among his + multifarious productions. The editors of the fashionable periodicals were + familiar with his autograph, and inscribed his name in those brilliant + bead-rolls of ink-stained celebrity, which illustrate the first page of + their covers. Nor did fame withhold her laurel. Hillard had included him + among the lights of the New England metropolis, in his Boston Book; Bryant + had found room for some of his stanzas, in the Selections from American + Poetry; and Mr. Griswold, in his recent assemblage of the sons and + daughters of song, had introduced Edward Caryl into the inner court of the + temple, among his fourscore choicest bards. There was a prospect, indeed, + of his assuming a still higher and more independent position. Interviews + had been held with Ticknor, and a correspondence with the Harpers, + respecting a proposed volume, chiefly to consist of Mr. Caryl’s fugitive + pieces in the Magazines, but to be accompanied with a poem of some length, + never before published. Not improbably, the public may yet be gratified + with this collection. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, we sum up our sketch of Edward Caryl, by pronouncing him, + though somewhat of a carpet knight in literature, yet no unfavorable + specimen of a generation of rising writers, whose spirit is such that we + may reasonably expect creditable attempts from all, and good and beautiful + results from some. And, it will be observed, Edward was the very man to + write pretty legends, at a lady’s instance, for an old-fashioned diamond + ring. He took the jewel in his hand, and turned it so as to catch its + scintillating radiance, as if hoping, in accordance with Clara’s + suggestion, to light up his fancy with that starlike gleam. + </p> + <p> + “Shall it be a ballad?—a tale in verse?” he inquired. “Enchanted + rings often glisten in old English poetry, I think something may be done + with the subject; but it is fitter for rhyme than prose.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Miss Pemberton, “we will have no more rhyme than just + enough for a posy to the ring. You must tell the legend in simple prose; + and when it is finished, I will make a little party to hear it read.” + </p> + <p> + The young gentleman promised obedience; and going to his pillow, with his + head full of the familiar spirits that used to be worn in rings, watches, + and sword-hilts, he had the good fortune to possess himself of an + available idea in a dream. Connecting this with what he himself chanced to + know of the ring’s real history, his task was done. Clara Pemberton + invited a select few of her friends, all holding the stanchest faith in + Edward’s genius, and therefore the most genial auditors, if not altogether + the fairest critics, that a writer could possibly desire. Blessed be woman + for her faculty of admiration, and especially for her tendency to admire + with her heart, when man, at most, grants merely a cold approval with his + mind! + </p> + <p> + Drawing his chair beneath the blaze of a solar lamp, Edward Caryl untied a + roll of glossy paper, and began as follows:— + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h4> + THE LEGEND + </h4> + <p> + After the death-warrant had been read to the Earl of Essex, and on the + evening before his appointed execution, the Countess of Shrewsbury paid + his lordship a visit, and found him, as it appeared, toying childishly + with a ring. The diamond, that enriched it, glittered like a little star, + but with a singular tinge of red. The gloomy prison-chamber in the Tower, + with its deep and narrow windows piercing the walls of stone, was now all + that the earl possessed of worldly prospect; so that there was the less + wonder that he should look steadfastly into the gem, and moralize upon + earth’s deceitful splendor, as men in darkness and ruin seldom fail to do. + But the shrewd observations of the countess,—an artful and + unprincipled woman,—the pretended friend of Essex, but who had come + to glut her revenge for a deed of scorn which he himself had forgotten,—her + keen eye detected a deeper interest attached to this jewel. Even while + expressing his gratitude for her remembrance of a ruined favorite, and + condemned criminal, the earl’s glance reverted to the ring, as if all that + remained of time and its affairs were collected within that small golden + circlet. + </p> + <p> + “My dear lord,” observed the countess, “there is surely some matter of + great moment wherewith this ring is connected, since it, so absorbs your + mind. A token, it may be, of some fair lady’s love,—alas, poor lady, + once richest in possessing such a heart! Would you that the jewel be + returned to her?” + </p> + <p> + “The queen! the queen! It was her Majesty’s own gift,” replied the earl, + still gazing into the depths of the gem. “She took it from her finger, and + told me, with a smile, that it was an heirloom from her Tudor ancestors, + and had once been the property of Merlin, the British wizard, who gave it + to the lady of his love. His art had made this diamond the abiding-place + of a spirit, which, though of fiendish nature, was bound to work only + good, so long as the ring was an unviolated pledge of love and faith, both + with the giver and receiver. But should love prove false, and faith be + broken, then the evil spirit would work his own devilish will, until the + ring were purified by becoming the medium of some good and holy act, and + again the pledge of faithful love. The gem soon lost its virtue; for the + wizard was murdered by the very lady to whom he gave it.” + </p> + <p> + “An idle legend!” said the countess. + </p> + <p> + “It is so,” answered Essex, with a melancholy smile. “Yet the queen’s + favor, of which this ring was the symbol, has proved my ruin. When death + is nigh, men converse with dreams and shadows. I have been gazing into the + diamond, and fancying—but you will laugh at me—that I might + catch a glimpse of the evil spirit there. Do you observe this red glow,—dusky, + too, amid all the brightness? It is the token of his presence; and even + now, methinks, it grows redder and duskier, like an angry sunset.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, the earl’s manner testified how slight was his credence in + the enchanted properties of the ring. But there is a kind of playfulness + that comes in moments of despair, when the reality of misfortune, if + entirely felt, would crush the soul at once. He now, for a brief space, + was lost in thought, while the countess contemplated him with malignant + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “This ring,” he resumed, in another tone, “alone remains, of all that my + royal mistress’s favor lavished upon her servant. My fortune once shone as + brightly as the gem. And now, such a darkness has fallen around me, + methinks it would be no marvel if its gleam—the sole light of my + prison-house—were to be forthwith extinguished; inasmuch as my last + earthly hope depends upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “How say you, my lord?” asked the Countess of Shrewsbury. “The stone is + bright; but there should be strange magic in it, if it can keep your hopes + alive, at this sad hour. Alas! these iron bars and ramparts of the Tower + are unlike to yield to such a spell.” + </p> + <p> + Essex raised his head involuntarily; for there was something in the + countess’s tone that disturbed him, although he could not suspect that an + enemy had intruded upon the sacred privacy of a prisoner’s dungeon, to + exult over so dark a ruin of such once brilliant fortunes. He looked her + in the face, but saw nothing to awaken his distrust. It would have + required a keener eye than even Cecil’s to read the secret of a + countenance, which had been worn so long in the false light of a court, + that it was now little better than a mask, telling any story save the true + one. The condemned nobleman again bent over the ring, and proceeded: + </p> + <p> + “It once had power in it,—this bright gem,—the magic that + appertains to the talisman of a great queen’s favor. She bade me, if + hereafter I should fall into her disgrace,—how deep soever, and + whatever might be the crime,—to convey this jewel to her sight, and + it should plead for me. Doubtless, with her piercing judgment, she had + even then detected the rashness of my nature, and foreboded some such deed + as has now brought destruction upon my bead. And knowing, too, her own + hereditary rigor, she designed, it may be, that the memory of gentler and + kindlier hours should soften her heart in my behalf, when my need should + be the greatest. I have doubted,—I have distrusted,—yet who + can tell, even now, what happy influence this ring might have?” + </p> + <p> + “You have delayed full long to show the ring, and plead her Majesty’s + gracious promise,” remarked the countess,—“your state being what it + is.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” replied the earl: “but for my honor’s sake, I was loath to entreat + the queen’s mercy, while I might hope for life, at least, from the justice + of the laws. If, on a trial by my peers, I had been acquitted of + meditating violence against her sacred life, then would I have fallen at + her feet, and presenting the jewel, have prayed no other favor than that + my love and zeal should be put to the severest test. But now—it were + confessing too much—it were cringing too low—to beg the + miserable gift of life, on no other score than the tenderness which her + Majesty deems one to have forfeited!” + </p> + <p> + “Yet it is your only hope,” said the countess. + </p> + <p> + “And besides,” continued Essex, pursuing his own reflections, “of what + avail will be this token of womanly feeling, when, on the other hand, are + arrayed the all-prevailing motives of state policy, and the artifices and + intrigues of courtiers, to consummate my downfall? Will Cecil or Raleigh + suffer her heart to act for itself, even if the spirit of her father were + not in her? It is in vain to hope it.” + </p> + <p> + But still Essex gazed at the ring with an absorbed attention, that proved + how much hope his sanguine temperament had concentrated here, when there + was none else for him in the wide world, save what lay in the compass of + that hoop of gold. The spark of brightness within the diamond, which + gleamed like an intenser than earthly fire, was the memorial of his + dazzling career. It had not paled with the waning sunshine of his + mistress’s favor; on the contrary, in spite of its remarkable tinge of + dusky red, he fancied that it never shone so brightly. The glow of festal + torches,—the blaze of perfumed lamps,—bonfires that had been + kindled for him, when he was the darling of the people,—the splendor + of the royal court, where he had been the peculiar star,—all seemed + to have collected their moral or material glory into the gem, and to burn + with a radiance caught from the future, as well as gathered from the past. + That radiance might break forth again. Bursting from the diamond, into + which it was now narrowed, it might been first upon the gloomy walls of + the Tower,—then wider, wider, wider,—till all England, and the + seas around her cliffs, should be gladdened with the light. It was such an + ecstasy as often ensues after long depression, and has been supposed to + precede the circumstances of darkest fate that may befall mortal man. The + earl pressed the ring to his heart as if it were indeed a talisman, the + habitation of a spirit, as the queen had playfully assured him,—but + a spirit of happier influences than her legend spake of. + </p> + <p> + “O, could I but make my way to her footstool!” cried he, waving his hand + aloft, while he paced the stone pavement of his prison-chamber with an + impetuous step. “I might kneel down, indeed, a ruined man, condemned to + the block, but how should I rise again? Once more the favorite of + Elizabeth!—England’s proudest noble!—with such prospects as + ambition never aimed at! Why have I tarried so long in this weary dungeon? + The ring has power to set me free! The palace wants me! Ho, jailer, unbar + the door!” + </p> + <p> + But then occurred the recollection of the impossibility of obtaining an + interview with his fatally estranged mistress, and testing the influence + over her affections, which he still flattered himself with possessing. + Could he step beyond the limits of his prison, the world would be all + sunshine; but here was only gloom and death. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said he, slowly and sadly, letting his head fall upon his hands. + “I die for the lack of one blessed word.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess of Shrewsbury, herself forgotten amid the earl’s gorgeous + visions, had watched him with an aspect that could have betrayed nothing + to the most suspicious observer; unless that it was too calm for humanity, + while witnessing the flutterings, as it were, of a generous heart in the + death-agony. She now approached him. + </p> + <p> + “My good lord,” she said, “what mean you to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,—my deeds are done!” replied he, despondingly; “yet, had a + fallen favorite any friends, I would entreat one of them to lay this ring + at her Majesty’s feet; albeit with little hope, save that, hereafter, it + might remind her that poor Essex, once far too highly favored, was at last + too severely dealt with.” + </p> + <p> + “I will be that friend,” said the countess. “There is no time to be lost. + Trust this precious ring with me. This very night the queen’s eye shall + rest upon it; nor shall the efficacy of my poor words be wanting, to + strengthen the impression which it will doubtless make.” + </p> + <p> + The earl’s first impulse was to hold out the ring. But looking at the + countess, as she bent forward to receive it, he fancied that the red glow + of the gem tinged all her face, and gave it an ominous expression. Many + passages of past times recurred to his memory. A preternatural insight, + perchance caught from approaching death, threw its momentary gleam, as + from a meteor, all round his position. + </p> + <p> + “Countess,” he said, “I know not wherefore I hesitate, being in a plight + so desperate, and having so little choice of friends. But have you looked + into your own heart? Can you perform this office with the truth—the + earnestness—time—zeal, even to tears, and agony of spirit—wherewith + the holy gift of human life should be pleaded for? Woe be unto you, should + you undertake this task, and deal towards me otherwise than with utmost + faith! For your own soul’s sake, and as you would have peace at your + death-hour, consider well in what spirit you receive this ring!” + </p> + <p> + The countess did not shrink. + </p> + <p> + “My lord!—my good lord!” she exclaimed, “wrong not a woman’s heart + by these suspicious. You might choose another messenger; but who, save a + lady of her bedchamber, can obtain access to the queen at this untimely + hour? It is for your life,—for your life,—else I would not + renew my offer.” + </p> + <p> + “Take the ring,” said the earl. + </p> + <p> + “Believe that it shall be in the queen’s hands before the lapse of another + hour,” replied the countess, as she received this sacred trust of life and + death. “To-morrow morning look for the result of my intercession.” + </p> + <p> + She departed. Again the earl’s hopes rose high. Dreams visited his + slumber, not of the sable-decked scaffold in the Tower-yard, but of + canopies of state, obsequious courtiers, pomp, splendor, the smile of the + once more gracious queen, and a light beaming from the magic gem, which + illuminated his whole future. + </p> + <p> + History records how foully the Countess of Shrewsbury betrayed the trust, + which Essex, in his utmost need, confided to her. She kept the ring, and + stood in the presence of Elizabeth, that night, without one attempt to + soften her stern hereditary temper in behalf of the former favorite. The + next day the earl’s noble head rolled upon the scaffold. On her death-bed, + tortured, at last, with a sense of the dreadful guilt which she had taken + upon her soul, the wicked countess sent for Elizabeth, revealed the story + of the ring, and besought forgiveness for her treachery. But the queen, + still obdurate, even while remorse for past obduracy was tugging at her + heart-strings, shook the dying woman in her bed, as if struggling with + death for the privilege of wreaking her revenge and spite. The spirit of + the countess passed away, to undergo the justice, or receive the mercy, of + a higher tribunal; and tradition says, that the fatal ring was found upon + her breast, where it had imprinted a dark red circle, resembling the + effect of the intensest heat. The attendants, who prepared the body for + burial, shuddered, whispering one to another, that the ring must have + derived its heat from the glow of infernal fire. They left it on her + breast, in the coffin, and it went with that guilty woman to the tomb. + </p> + <p> + Many years afterward, when the church, that contained the monuments of the + Shrewsbury family, was desecrated by Cromwell’s soldiers, they broke open + the ancestral vaults, and stole whatever was valuable from the noble + personages who reposed there. Merlin’s antique ring passed into the + possession of a stout sergeant of the Ironsides, who thus became subject + to the influences of the evil spirit that still kept his abode within the + gem’s enchanted depths. The sergeant was soon slain in battle, thus + transmitting the ring, though without any legal form of testament, to a + gay cavalier, who forthwith pawned it, and expended the money in liquor, + which speedily brought him to the grave. We next catch the sparkle of the + magic diamond at various epochs of the merry reign of Charles the Second. + But its sinister fortune still attended it. From whatever hand this ring + of portent came, and whatever finger it encircled, ever it was the pledge + of deceit between man and man, or man and woman, of faithless vows, and + unhallowed passion; and whether to lords and ladies, or to village-maids,—for + sometimes it found its way so low,—still it brought nothing but + sorrow and disgrace. No purifying deed was done, to drive the fiend from + his bright home in this little star. Again, we hear of it at a later + period, when Sir Robert Walpole bestowed the ring, among far richer + jewels, on the lady of a British legislator, whose political honor he + wished to undermine. Many a dismal and unhappy tale might be wrought out + of its other adventures. All this while, its ominous tinge of dusky red + had been deepening and darkening, until, if laid upon white paper, it cast + the mingled hue of night and blood, strangely illuminated with + scintillating light, in a circle round about. But this peculiarity only + made it the more valuable. + </p> + <p> + Alas, the fatal ring! When shall its dark secret be discovered, and the + doom of ill, inherited from one possessor to another, be finally revoked? + </p> + <p> + The legend now crosses the Atlantic, and comes down to our own immediate + time. In a certain church of our city, not many evenings ago, there was a + contribution for a charitable object. A fervid preacher had poured out his + whole soul in a rich and tender discourse, which had at least excited the + tears, and perhaps the more effectual sympathy, of a numerous audience. + While the choristers sang sweetly, and the organ poured forth its + melodious thunder, the deacons passed up and down the aisles, and along + the galleries, presenting their mahogany boxes, in which each person + deposited whatever sum he deemed it safe to lend to the Lord, in aid of + human wretchedness. Charity became audible,—chink, chink, chink,—as + it fell, drop by drop, into the common receptacle. There was a hum,—a + stir,—the subdued bustle of people putting their hands into their + pockets; while, ever and anon, a vagrant coin fell upon the floor, and + rolled away, with long reverberation, into some inscrutable corner. + </p> + <p> + At length, all having been favored with an opportunity to be generous, the + two deacons placed their boxes on the communion-table, and thence, at the + conclusion of the services, removed them into the vestry. Here these good + old gentlemen sat down together, to reckon the accumulated treasure. + </p> + <p> + “Fie, fie, Brother Tilton,” said Deacon Trott, peeping into Deacon + Tilton’s box, “what a heap of copper you have picked up! Really, for an + old man, you must have had a heavy job to lug it along. Copper! copper! + copper! Do people expect to get admittance into heaven at the price of a + few coppers?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t wrong them, brother,” answered Deacon Tilton, a simple and kindly + old man. “Copper may do more for one person, than gold will for another. + In the galleries, where I present my box, we must not expect such a + harvest as you gather among the gentry in the broad aisle, and all over + the floor of the church. My people are chiefly poor mechanics and + laborers, sailors, seamstresses, and servant-maids, with a most + uncomfortable intermixture of roguish school-boys.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said Deacon Trott; “but there is a great deal, Brother + Tilton, in the method of presenting a contribution-box. It is a knack that + comes by nature, or not at all.” + </p> + <p> + They now proceeded to sum up the avails of the evening, beginning with the + receipts of Deacon Trott. In good sooth, that worthy personage had reaped + an abundant harvest, in which he prided himself no less, apparently, than + if every dollar had been contributed from his own individual pocket. Had + the good deacon been meditating a jaunt to Texas, the treasures of the + mahogany box might have sent him on his way rejoicing. There were + bank-notes, mostly, it is true, of the smallest denominations in the + giver’s pocket-book, yet making a goodly average upon the whole. The most + splendid contribution was a check for a hundred dollars, bearing the name + of a distinguished merchant, whose liberality was duly celebrated in the + newspapers of the next day. No less than seven half-eagles, together with + an English sovereign, glittered amidst an indiscriminate heap of silver; + the box being polluted with nothing of the copper kind, except a single + bright new cent, wherewith a little boy had performed his first charitable + act. + </p> + <p> + “Very well! very well indeed!” said Deacon Trott, self-approvingly. “A + handsome evening’s work! And now, Brother Tilton, let’s see whether you + can match it.” Here was a sad contrast! They poured forth Deacon Tilton’s + treasure upon the table, and it really seemed as if the whole copper + coinage of the country, together with an amazing quantity of shop-keeper’s + tokens, and English and Irish half-pence, mostly of base metal, had been + congregated into the box. There was a very substantial pencil-case, and + the semblance of a shilling; but he latter proved to be made of tin, and + the former of German-silver. A gilded brass button was doing duty as a + gold coin, and a folded shopbill had assumed the character of a bank-note. + But Deacon Tilton’s feelings were much revived by the aspect of another + bank-note, new and crisp, adorned with beautiful engravings, and stamped + with the indubitable word, TWENTY, in large black letters. Alas! it was a + counterfeit. In short, the poor old Deacon was no less unfortunate than + those who trade with fairies, and whose gains are sure to be transformed + into dried leaves, pebbles, and other valuables of that kind. + </p> + <p> + “I believe the Evil One is in the box,” said he, with some vexation. + </p> + <p> + “Well done, Deacon Tilton!” cried his Brother Trott, with a hearty laugh. + “You ought to have a statue in copper.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, brother,” replied the good Deacon, recovering his temper. + “I’ll bestow ten dollars from my own pocket, and may heaven’s blessing go + along with it. But look! what do you call this?” + </p> + <p> + Under the copper mountain, which it had cost them so much toil to remove, + lay an antique ring! It was enriched with a diamond, which, so soon as it + caught the light, began to twinkle and glimmer, emitting the whitest and + purest lustre that could possibly be conceived.—It was as brilliant + as if some magician had condensed the brightest star in heaven into a + compass fit to be set in a ring, for a lady’s delicate finger. + </p> + <p> + “How is this?” said Deacon Trott, examining it carefully, in the + expectation of finding it as worthless as the rest of his colleague’s + treasure. “Why, upon my word, this seems to be a real diamond, and of the + purest water. Whence could it have come?” + </p> + <p> + “Really, I cannot tell,” quoth Deacon Tilton, “for my spectacles were so + misty that all faces looked alike. But now I remember, there was a flash + of light came from the box, at one moment; but it seemed a dusky red, + instead of a pure white, like the sparkle of this gem. Well; the ring will + make up for the copper; but I wish the giver had thrown its history into + the box along with it.” + </p> + <p> + It has been our good luck to recover a portion of that history. After + transmitting misfortune from one possessor to another, ever since the days + of British Merlin, the identical ring which Queen Elizabeth gave to the + Earl of Essex was finally thrown into the contribution-box of a New + England church. The two deacons deposited it in the glass case of a + fashionable jeweller, of whom it was purchased by the humble rehearser of + this legend, in the hope that it may be allowed to sparkle on a fair + lady’s finger. Purified from the foul fiend, so long its inhabitant, by a + deed of unostentatious charity, and now made the symbol of faithful and + devoted love, the gentle bosom of its new possessor need fear no sorrow + from its influence. + </p> + <p> + Very pretty!—Beautiful!—How original!—How sweetly + written!—What nature!—What imagination!—What power!—What + pathos!—What exquisite humor!”—were the exclamations of Edward + Caryl’s kind and generous auditors, at the conclusion of the legend. + </p> + <p> + “It is a pretty tale,” said Miss Pemberton, who, conscious that her praise + was to that of all others as a diamond to a pebble, was therefore the less + liberal in awarding it. “It is really a pretty tale, and very proper for + any of the Annuals. But, Edward, your moral does not satisfy me. What + thought did you embody in the ring?” + </p> + <p> + “O Clara, this is too bad!” replied Edward, with a half-reproachful smile. + “You know that I can never separate the idea from the symbol in which it + manifests itself. However, we may suppose the Gem to be the human heart, + and the Evil Spirit to be Falsehood, which, in one guise or another, is + the fiend that causes all the sorrow and trouble in the world. I beseech + you to let this suffice.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall,” said Clara, kindly. “And, believe me, whatever the world may + say of the story, I prize it far above the diamond which enkindled your + imagination.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> <a name="graves"></a> + </p> + <h3> + GRAVES AND GOBLINS. + </h3> + <p> + Now talk we of graves and goblins! Fit themes,—start not! gentle + reader,—fit for a ghost like me. Yes; though an earth-clogged fancy + is laboring with these conceptions, and an earthly hand will write them + down, for mortal eyes to read, still their essence flows from as airy a + ghost as ever basked in the pale starlight, at twelve o’clock. Judge them + not by the gross and heavy form in which they now appear. They may be + gross, indeed, with the earthly pollution contracted from the brain, + through which they pass; and heavy with the burden of mortal language, + that crushes all the finer intelligences of the soul. This is no fault of + mine. But should aught of ethereal spirit be perceptible, yet scarcely so, + glimmering along the dull train of words,—should a faint perfume + breathe from the mass of clay,—then, gentle reader, thank the ghost, + who thus embodies himself for your sake! Will you believe me, if I say + that all true and noble thoughts, and elevated imaginations, are but + partly the offspring of the intellect which seems to produce them? + Sprites, that were poets once, and are now all poetry, hover round the + dreaming bard, and become his inspiration; buried statesmen lend their + wisdom, gathered on earth and mellowed in the grave, to the historian; and + when the preacher rises nearest to the level of his mighty subject, it is + because the prophets of old days have communed with him. Who has not been + conscious of mysteries within his mind, mysteries of truth and reality, + which will not wear the chains of language? Mortal, then the dead were + with you! And thus shall the earth-dulled soul, whom I inspire, be + conscious of a misty brightness among his thoughts, and strive to make it + gleam upon the page,—but all in vain. Poor author! How will he + despise what he can grasp, for the sake of the dim glory that eludes him! + </p> + <p> + So talk we of graves and goblins. But, what have ghosts to do with graves? + Mortal man, wearing the dust which shall require a sepulchre, might deem + it more a home and resting-place than a spirit can, whose earthly clod has + returned to earth. Thus philosophers have reasoned. Yet wiser they who + adhere to the ancient sentiment, that a phantom haunts and hallows the + marble tomb or grassy hillock where its material form was laid. Till + purified from each stain of clay; till the passions of the living world + are all forgotten; till it have less brotherhood with the wayfarers of + earth, than with spirits that never wore mortality,—the ghost must + linger round the grave. O, it is a long and dreary watch to some of us! + </p> + <p> + Even in early childhood, I had selected a sweet spot, of shade and + glimmering sunshine, for my grave. It was no burial-ground, but a secluded + nook of virgin earth, where I used to sit, whole summer afternoons, + dreaming about life and death. My fancy ripened prematurely, and taught me + secrets which I could not otherwise have known. I pictured the coming + years,—they never came to me, indeed; but I pictured them like life, + and made this spot the scene of all that should be brightest, in youth, + manhood, and old age. There, in a little while, it would be time for me to + breathe the bashful and burning vows of first-love; thither, after + gathering fame abroad, I would return to enjoy the loud plaudit of the + world, a vast but unobtrusive sound, like the booming of a distant sea; + and thither, at the far-off close of life, an aged man would come, to + dream, as the boy was dreaming, and be as happy in the past as lie was in + futurity. Finally, when all should be finished, in that spot so hallowed, + in that soil so impregnated with the most precious of my bliss, there was + to be my grave. Methought it would be the sweetest grave that ever a + mortal frame reposed in, or an ethereal spirit haunted. There, too, in + future times, drawn thither by the spell which I had breathed around the + place, boyhood would sport and dream, and youth would love, and manhood + would enjoy, and age would dream again, and my ghost would watch but never + frighten them. Alas, the vanity of mortal projects, even when they centre + in the grave! I died in my first youth, before I had been a lover; at a + distance, also, from the grave which fancy had dug for me; and they buried + me in the thronged cemetery of a town, where my marble slab stands + unnoticed amid a hundred others. And there are coffins on each side of + mine! + </p> + <p> + “Alas, poor ghost!” will the reader say. Yet I am a happy ghost enough, + and disposed to be contented with my grave, if the sexton will but let it + be my own, and bring no other dead man to dispute my title. Earth has left + few stains upon me, and it will be but a short time that I need haunt the + place. It is good to die in early youth. Had I lived out threescore years + and ten, or half of them, my spirit would have been so earth-incrusted, + that centuries might not have purified it for a better home than the dark + precincts of the grave. Meantime, there is good choice of company amongst + us. From twilight till near sunrise, we are gliding to and fro, some in + the graveyard, others miles away; and would we speak with any friend, we + do but knock against his tombstone, and pronounce the name engraved on it: + in an instant, there the shadow stands! + </p> + <p> + Some are ghosts of considerable antiquity. There is an old man, hereabout; + he never had a tombstone, and is often puzzled to distinguish his own + grave; but hereabouts he haunts, and long is doomed to haunt. He was a + miser in his lifetime, and buried a strong box of ill-gotten gold, almost + fresh from the mint, in the coinage of William and Mary. Scarcely was it + safe, when the sexton buried the old man and his secret with him. I could + point out the place where the treasure lies; it was at the bottom of the + miser’s garden; but a paved thoroughfare now passes beside the spot, and + the cornerstone of a market-house presses right down upon it. Had the + workmen dug six inches deeper, they would have found the hoard. Now + thither must this poor old miser go, whether in starlight, moonshine, or + pitch darkness, and brood above his worthless treasure, recalling all the + petty crimes by which he gained it. Not a coin must he fail to reckon in + his memory, nor forget a pennyworth of the sin that made up the sum, + though his agony is such as if the pieces of gold, red-hot, were stamped + into his naked soul. Often, while he is in torment there, he hears the + steps of living men, who love the dross of earth as well as he did. May + they never groan over their miserable wealth like him! Night after night, + for above a hundred years, hath he done this penance, and still must he do + it, till the iron box be brought to light, and each separate coin be + cleansed by grateful tears of a widow or an orphan. My spirit sighs for + his long vigil at the corner of the market-house! + </p> + <p> + There are ghosts whom I tremble to meet, and cannot think of without a + shudder. One has the guilt of blood upon him. The soul which he thrust + untimely forth has long since been summoned from our gloomy graveyard, and + dwells among the stars of heaven, too far and too high for even the + recollection of mortal anguish to ascend thither. Not so the murderer’s + ghost! It is his doom to spend all the hours of darkness in the spot which + he stained with innocent blood, and to feel the hot stream—hot as + when it first gushed upon his hand—incorporating itself with his + spiritual substance. Thus his horrible crime is ever fresh within him. Two + other wretches are condemned to walk arm in arm. They were guilty lovers + in their lives, and still, in death, must wear the guise of love, though + hatred and loathing have become their very nature and existence. The + pollution of their mutual sin remains with them, and makes their souls + sick continually. O, that I might forget all the dark shadows which haunt + about these graves! This passing thought of them has left a stain, and + will weigh me down among dust and sorrow, beyond the time that my own + transgressions would have kept me here. There is one shade among us, whose + high nature it is good to meditate upon. He lived a patriot, and is a + patriot still. Posterity has forgotten him. The simple slab, of red + freestone, that bore his name, was broken long ago, and is now covered by + the gradual accumulation of the soil. A tuft of thistles is his only + monument. This upright spirit came to his grave, after a lengthened life, + with so little stain of earth, that he might, almost immediately, have + trodden the pathway of the sky. But his strong love of country chained him + down, to share its vicissitudes of weal or woe. With such deep yearning in + his soul, he was unfit for heaven. That noblest virtue has the effect of + sin, and keeps his pure and lofty spirit in a penance, which may not + terminate till America be again a wilderness. Not that there is no joy for + the dead patriot. Can he fail to experience it, while be contemplates the + mighty and increasing power of the land, which be protected in its + infancy? No; there is much to gladden him. But sometimes I dread to meet + him, as he returns from the bedchambers of rulers and politicians, after + diving into their secret motives, and searching out their aims. He looks + round him with a stern and awful sadness, and vanishes into his neglected + grave. Let nothing sordid or selfish defile your deeds or thoughts, ye + great men of the day, lest ye grieve the noble dead. + </p> + <p> + Few ghosts take such an endearing interest as this, even in their own + private affairs. It made me rather sad, at first, to find how soon the + flame of love expires amid the chill damps of the tomb; so much the + sooner, the more fiercely it may have burned. Forget your dead mistress, + youth! She has already forgotten you. Maiden, cease to weep for your + buried lover! He will know nothing of your tears, nor value them if he + did. Yet it were blasphemy to say that true love is other than immortal. + It is an earthly passion, of which I speak, mingled with little that is + spiritual, and must therefore perish with the perishing clay. When souls + have loved, there is no falsehood or forgetfulness. Maternal affection, + too, is strong as adamant. There are mothers here, among us, who might + have been in heaven fifty years ago, if they could forbear to cherish + earthly joy and sorrow, reflected from the bosoms of their children. + Husbands and wives have a comfortable gift of oblivion, especially when + secure of the faith of their living halves. Jealousy, it is true, will + play the devil with a ghost, driving him to the bedside of secondary + wedlock, there to scowl, unseen, and gibber inaudible remonstrances. Dead + wives, however jealous in their lifetime, seldom feel this posthumous + torment so acutely. + </p> + <p> + Many, many things, that appear most important while we walk the busy + street, lose all their interest the moment we are borne into the quiet + graveyard which borders it. For my own part, my spirit had not become so + mixed up with earthly existence, as to be now held in an unnatural + combination, or tortured much with retrospective cares. I still love my + parents and a younger sister, who remain among the living, and often + grieve me by their patient sorrow for the dead. Each separate tear of + theirs is an added weight upon my soul, and lengthens my stay among the + graves. As to other matters, it exceedingly rejoices me, that my summons + came before I had time to write a projected poem, which was highly + imaginative in conception, and could not have failed to give me a + triumphant rank in the choir of our native bards. Nothing is so much to be + deprecated as posthumous renown. It keeps the immortal spirit from the + proper bliss of his celestial state, and causes him to feed upon the + impure breath of mortal man, till sometimes he forgets that there are + starry realms above him. Few poets—infatuated that they are!—soar + upward while the least whisper of their name is heard on earth. On Sabbath + evenings, my sisters sit by the fireside, between our father and mother, + and repeat some hymns of mine, which they have often heard from my own + lips, ere the tremulous voice left them forever. Little do they think, + those dear ones, that the dead stands listening in the glimmer of the + firelight, and is almost gifted with a visible shape by the fond intensity + of their remembrance. + </p> + <p> + Now shall the reader know a grief of the poor ghost that speaks to him; a + grief, but not a helpless one. Since I have dwelt among the graves, they + bore the corpse of a young maiden hither, and laid her in the old + ancestral vault, which is hollowed in the side of a grassy bank. It has a + door of stone, with rusty iron hinges, and above it, a rude sculpture of + the family arms, and inscriptions of all their names who have been buried + there, including sire and son, mother and daughter, of an ancient colonial + race. All of her lineage had gone before, and when the young maiden + followed, the portal was closed forever. The night after her burial, when + the other ghosts were flitting about their graves, forth came the pale + virgin’s shadow, with the rest, but knew not whither to go, nor whom to + haunt, so lonesome had she been on earth. She stood by the ancient + sepulchre, looking upward to the bright stars, as if she would, even then, + begin her flight. Her sadness made me sad. That night and the next, I + stood near her, in the moonshine, but dared not speak, because she seemed + purer than all the ghosts, and fitter to converse with angels than with + men. But the third bright eve, still gazing upward to the glory of the + heavens, she sighed, and said, “When will my mother come for me?” Her low, + sweet voice emboldened me to speak, and she was kind and gentle, though so + pure, and answered me again. From that time, always at the ghostly hour, I + sought the old tomb of her fathers, and either found her standing by the + door, or knocked, and she appeared. Blessed creature, that she was; her + chaste spirit hallowed mine, and imparted such a celestial buoyancy, that + I longed to grasp her hand, and fly,—upward, aloft, aloft! I + thought, too, that she only lingered here, till my earthlier soul should + be purified for heaven. One night, when the stars threw down the light + that shadows love, I stole forth to the accustomed spot, and knocked, with + my airy fingers, at her door. She answered not. Again I knocked, and + breathed her name. Where was she? At once, the truth fell on my miserable + spirit, and crushed it to the earth, among dead men’s bones and mouldering + dust, groaning in cold and desolate agony. Her penance was over! She had + taken her trackless flight, and had found a home in the purest radiance of + the upper stars, leaving me to knock at the stone portal of the darksome + sepulchre. But I know—I know, that angels hurried her away, or + surely she would have whispered ere she fled! + </p> + <p> + She is gone! How could the grave imprison that unspotted one! But her + pure, ethereal spirit will not quite forget me, nor soar too high in + bliss, till I ascend to join her. Soon, soon be that hour! I am weary of + the earth-damps; they burden me; they choke me! Already, I can float in + the moonshine; the faint starlight will almost bear up my footsteps; the + perfume of flowers, which grosser spirits love, is now too earthly a + luxury for me. Grave! Grave! thou art not my home. I must flit a little + longer in thy night gloom, and then be gone,—far from the dust of + the living and the dead,—far from the corruption that is around me, + but no more within! + </p> + <p> + A few times, I have visited the chamber of one who walks, obscure and + lonely, on his mortal pilgrimage. He will leave not many living friends, + when he goes to join the dead, where his thoughts often stray, and he + might better be. I steal into his sleep, and play my part among the + figures of his dreams. I glide through the moonlight of his waking fancy, + and whisper conceptions, which, with a strange thrill of fear, he writes + down as his own. I stand beside him now, at midnight, telling these dreamy + truths with a voice so dream-like, that he mistakes them for fictions of a + brain too prone to such. Yet he glances behind him and shivers, while the + lamp burns pale. Farewell, dreamer,—waking or sleeping! Your + brightest dreams are fled; your mind grows too hard and cold for a + spiritual guest to enter; you are earthly, too, and have all the sins of + earth. The ghost will visit you no more. + </p> + <p> + But where is the maiden, holy and pure, though wearing a form of clay, + that would have me bend over her pillow at midnight, and leave a blessing + there? With a silent invocation, let her summon me. Shrink not, maiden, + when I come! In life, I was a high-souled youth, meditative, yet seldom + sad, full of chaste fancies, and stainless from all grosser sin. And now, + ill death, I bring no loathsome smell of the grave, nor ghostly terrors,—but + gentle, and soothing, and sweetly pensive influences. Perhaps, just + fluttering for the skies, my visit may hallow the wellsprings of thy + thought, and make thee heavenly here on earth. Then shall pure dreams and + holy meditations bless thy life; nor thy sainted spirit linger round the + grave, but seek the upper stars, and meet me there! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Other Tales and Sketches, by Nathaniel Hawthorne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OTHER TALES AND SKETCHES *** + +***** This file should be named 9248-h.htm or 9248-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/2/4/9248/ + +Produced by David Widger and Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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. 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