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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:10 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:10 -0700 |
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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/11170-0.txt b/11170-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9cf299b --- /dev/null +++ b/11170-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8414 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11170 *** + +THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. VII.--MAY, 1861.--NO. XLIII. + + +AGNES OF SORRENTO. + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE OLD TOWN. + + +The setting sunbeams slant over the antique gateway of Sorrento, fusing +into a golden bronze the brown freestone vestments of old Saint Antonio, +who with his heavy stone mitre and upraised hands has for centuries kept +watch thereupon. + +A quiet time he has of it up there in the golden Italian air, in +petrified act of blessing, while orange lichens and green mosses from +year to year embroider quaint patterns on the seams of his sacerdotal +vestments, and small tassels of grass volunteer to ornament the folds +of his priestly drapery, and golden showers of blossoms from some more +hardy plant fall from his ample sleeve-cuffs. Little birds perch and +chitter and wipe their beaks unconcernedly, now on the tip of his nose +and now on the point of his mitre, while the world below goes on its way +pretty much as it did when the good saint was alive, and, in despair of +the human brotherhood, took to preaching to the birds and the fishes. + +Whoever passed beneath this old arched gateway, thus saint-guarded, +in the year of our Lord's grace--, might have seen under its shadow, +sitting opposite to a stand of golden oranges, the little Agnes. + +A very pretty picture was she, reader.--with such a face as you +sometimes see painted in those wayside shrines of sunny Italy, where the +lamp burns pale at evening, and gillyflower and cyclamen are renewed +with every morning. + +She might have been fifteen or thereabouts, but was so small of stature +that she seemed yet a child. Her black hair was parted in a white +unbroken seam down to the high forehead, whose serious arch, like that +of a cathedral-door, spoke of thought and prayer. Beneath the shadows of +this brow lay brown, translucent eyes, into whose thoughtful depths one +might look as pilgrims gaze into the waters of some saintly well, cool +and pure down to the unblemished sand at the bottom. The small lips had +a gentle compression which indicated a repressed strength of feeling; +while the straight line of the nose, and the flexible, delicate nostril, +were perfect as in those sculptured fragments of the antique which the +soil of Italy so often gives forth to the day from the sepulchres of the +past. The habitual pose of the head and face had the shy uplooking grace +of a violet; and yet there was a grave tranquillity of expression, which +gave a peculiar degree of character to the whole figure. + +At the moment at which we have called your attention, the fair head is +bent, the long eyelashes lie softly down on the pale, smooth cheek; for +the Ave Maria bell is sounding from the Cathedral of Sorrento, and the +child is busy with her beads. + +By her side sits a woman of some threescore years, tall, stately, and +squarely formed, with ample breadth of back and size of chest, like the +robust dames of Sorrento. Her strong Roman nose, the firm, determined +outline of her mouth, and a certain energy in every motion, speak the +woman of will and purpose. There is a degree of vigor in the decision +with which she lays down her spindle and bows her head, as a good +Christian of those days would, at the swinging of the evening bell. + +But while the soul of the child in its morning freshness, free from +pressure or conscience of earthly care, rose like an illuminated mist +to heaven, the words the white-haired woman repeated were twined with +threads of worldly prudence,--thoughts of how many oranges she had +sold, with a rough guess at the probable amount for the day,--and her +fingers wandered from her beads a moment to see if the last coin had +been swept from the stand into her capacious pocket, and her eyes +wandering after them suddenly made her aware of the fact that a handsome +cavalier was standing in the gate, regarding her pretty grandchild with +looks of undisguised admiration. + +"Let him look!" she said to herself, with a grim clasp on her +rosary;--"a fair face draws buyers, and our oranges must be turned into +money; but he who does more than look has an affair with me;--so gaze +away, my master, and take it out in buying oranges!--_Ave, Maria! ora +pro nobis, nunc et,_" etc., etc. + +A few moments, and the wave of prayer which had flowed down the quaint +old shadowy street, bowing all heads as the wind bowed the scarlet +tassels of neighboring clover-fields, was passed, and all the world +resumed the work of earth just where they left off when the bell began. + +"Good even to you, pretty maiden!" said the cavalier, approaching the +stall of the orange-woman with the easy, confident air of one secure +of a ready welcome, and bending down on the yet prayerful maiden the +glances of a pair of piercing hazel eyes that looked out on each side of +his aquiline nose with the keenness of a falcon's. + +"Good even to you, pretty one! We shall take you for a saint, and +worship you in right earnest, if you raise not those eyelashes soon." + +"Sir! my lord!" said the girl,--a bright color flushing into her smooth +brown cheeks, and her large dreamy eyes suddenly upraised with a +flutter, as of a bird about to take flight. + +"Agnes, bethink yourself!" said the white-haired dame;--"the gentleman +asks the price of your oranges;--be alive, child!" + +"Ah, my lord," said the young girl, "here are a dozen fine ones." + +"Well, you shall give them me, pretty one," said the young man, throwing +a gold piece down on the stand with a careless ring. + +"Here, Agnes, run to the stall of Raphael the poulterer for change," +said the adroit dame, picking up the gold. + +"Nay, good mother, by your leave," said the unabashed cavalier; "I make +my change with youth and beauty thus!" And with the word he stooped down +and kissed the fair forehead between the eyes. + +"For shame, Sir!" said the elderly woman, raising her distaff,--her +great glittering eyes flashing beneath her silver hair like tongues of +lightning from a white cloud, "Have a care!--this child is named for +blessed Saint Agnes, and is under her protection." + +"The saints must pray for us, when their beauty makes us forget +ourselves," said the young cavalier, with a smile. "Look me in the face, +little one," he added;--"say, wilt thou pray for me?" + +The maiden raised her large serious eyes, and surveyed the haughty, +handsome face with that look of sober inquiry which one sometimes sees +in young children, and the blush slowly faded from, her cheek, as a +cloud fades after sunset. + +"Yes, my lord," she answered, with a grave simplicity,--"I will pray for +you." + +"And hang this upon the shrine of Saint Agnes for my sake," he added, +drawing from his finger a diamond ring, which he dropped into her hand; +and before mother or daughter could add another word or recover from +their surprise, he had thrown the corner of his mantle over his shoulder +and was off down the narrow street, humming the refrain of a gay song. + +"You have struck a pretty dove with that bolt," said another cavalier, +who appeared to have been observing the proceeding, and now, stepping +forward, joined him. + +"Like enough," said the first, carelessly. + +"The old woman keeps her mewed up like a singing-bird," said the second; +"and if a fellow wants speech of her, it's as much as his crown is +worth; for Dame Elsie has a strong arm, and her distaff is known to be +heavy." + +"Upon my word," said the first cavalier, stopping and throwing a glance +backward,--"where do they keep her?" + +"Oh, in a sort of pigeon's nest up above the Gorge; but one never sees +her, except under the fire of her grandmother's eyes. The little one +is brought up for a saint, they say, and goes nowhere but to mass, +confession, and the sacrament." + +"Humph!" said the other, "she looks like some choice old picture of Our +Lady,--not a drop of human blood in her. When I kissed her forehead, she +looked into my face as grave and innocent as a babe. One is tempted to +try what one can do in such a case." + +"Beware the grandmother's distaff!" said the other, laughing. + +"I've seen old women before," said the cavalier, as they turned down the +street and were lost to view. + +Meanwhile the grandmother and granddaughter were roused from the mute +astonishment in which they were gazing after the young cavalier by a +tittering behind them; and a pair of bright eyes looked out upon, them +from beneath a bundle of long, crimson-headed clover, whose rich carmine +tints were touched to brighter life by setting sunbeams. + +There stood Giulietta, the head coquette of the Sorrento girls, with her +broad shoulders, full chest, and great black eyes, rich and heavy as +those of the silver-haired ox for whose benefit she had been cutting +clover. Her bronzed cheek was smooth as that of any statue, and showed a +color like that of an open pomegranate; and the opulent, lazy abundance +of her ample form, with her leisurely movements, spoke an easy and +comfortable nature,--that is to say, when Giulietta was pleased; for it +is to be remarked that there lurked certain sparkles deep down in her +great eyes, which might, on occasion, blaze out into sheet-lightning, +like her own beautiful skies, which, lovely as they are, can thunder +and sulk with terrible earnestness when the fit takes them. At present, +however, her face was running over with mischievous merriment, as she +slyly pinched little Agnes by the ear. + +"So you know not yon gay cavalier, little sister?" she said, looking +askance at her from under her long lashes. + +"No, indeed! What has an honest girl to do with knowing gay cavaliers?" +said Dame Elsie, bestirring herself with packing the remaining oranges +into a basket, which she covered trimly with a heavy linen towel of her +own weaving. "Girls never come to good who let their eyes go walking +through the earth, and have the names of all the wild gallants on +their tongues. Agnes knows no such nonsense,--blessed be her gracious +patroness, with Our Lady and Saint Michael!" + +"I hope there is no harm in knowing what is right before one's eyes," +said Giulietta. "Anybody must be blind and deaf not to know the Lord +Adrian. All the girls in Sorrento know him. They say he is even greater +than he appears,--that he is brother to the King himself; at any rate, a +handsomer and more gallant gentleman never wore spurs." + +"Let him keep to his own kind," said Elsie. "Eagles make bad work in +dovecots. No good comes of such gallants for us." + +"Nor any harm, that I ever heard of," said Giulietta. "But let me see, +pretty one,--what did he give you? Holy Mother! what a handsome ring!" + +"It is to hang on the shrine of Saint Agnes," said the younger girl, +looking up with simplicity. + +A loud laugh was the first answer to this communication. The scarlet +clover-tops shook and quivered with the merriment. + +"To hang on the shrine of Saint Agnes!" Giulietta repeated. "That is a +little too good!" + +"Go, go, you baggage!" said Elsie, wrathfully brandishing her spindle. +"If ever you get a husband, I hope he'll give you a good beating! You +need it, I warrant! Always stopping on the bridge there, to have cracks +with the young men! Little enough you know of saints, I dare say! So +keep away from my child!--Come, Agnes," she said, as she lifted the +orange-basket on to her head; and, straightening her tall form, she +seized the girl by the hand to lead her away. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE DOVE-COT. + + +The old town of Sorrento is situated on an elevated plateau, which +stretches into the sunny waters of the Mediterranean, guarded on all +sides by a barrier of mountains which defend it from bleak winds and +serve to it the purpose of walls to a garden. Here, groves of oranges +and lemons,--with their almost fabulous coincidence of fruitage with +flowers, fill the air with perfume, which blends with that of roses and +jessamines; and the fields are so starred and enamelled with flowers +that they might have served as the type for those Elysian realms sung by +ancient poets. The fervid air is fanned by continual sea-breezes, which +give a delightful elasticity to the otherwise languid climate. Under +all these cherishing influences, the human being develops a wealth and +luxuriance of physical beauty unknown in less favored regions. In the +region about Sorrento one may be said to have found the land where +beauty is the rule and not the exception. The singularity there is not +to see handsome points of physical proportion, but rather to see those +who are without them. Scarce a man, woman, or child you meet who has not +some personal advantage to be commended, while even striking beauty is +common. Also, under these kindly skies, a native courtesy and gentleness +of manner make themselves felt. It would seem as if humanity, rocked +in this flowery cradle, and soothed by so many daily caresses and +appliances of nursing Nature, grew up with all that is kindliest on the +outward,--not repressed and beat in, as under the inclement atmosphere +and stormy skies of the North. + +The town of Sorrento itself overhangs the sea, skirting along rocky +shores, which, hollowed here and there into picturesque grottoes, and +fledged with a wild plumage of brilliant flowers and trailing vines, +descend in steep precipices to the water. Along the shelly beach, at +the bottom, one can wander to look out on the loveliest prospect in the +world. Vesuvius rises with its two peaks softly clouded in blue and +purple mists, which blend with its ascending vapors,--Naples and the +adjoining villages at its base gleaming in the distance like a fringe +of pearls on a regal mantle. Nearer by, the picturesque rocky shores of +the island of Capri seem to pulsate through the dreamy, shifting mists +that veil its sides; and the sea shimmers and glitters like the neck +of a peacock with an iridescent mingling of colors: the whole air is a +glorifying medium, rich in prismatic hues of enchantment. + +The town on three sides is severed from the main land by a gorge two +hundred feet in depth and forty or fifty in breadth, crossed by a bridge +resting on double arches, the construction of which dates back to +the time of the ancient Romans. This bridge affords a favorite +lounging-place for the inhabitants, and at evening a motley assemblage +may be seen lolling over its moss-grown sides,--men with their +picturesque knit caps of scarlet or brown falling gracefully on one +shoulder, and women with their shining black hair and the enormous pearl +earrings which are the pride and heirlooms of every family. The present +traveller at Sorrento may remember standing on this bridge and looking +down the gloomy depths of the gorge, to where a fair villa, with its +groves of orange-trees and gardens, overhangs the tremendous depths +below. + +Hundreds of years since, where this villa now stands was the simple +dwelling of the two women whose history we have begun to tell you. There +you might have seen a small stone cottage with a two-arched arcade +in front, gleaming brilliantly white out of the dusky foliage of an +orange-orchard. The dwelling was wedged like a bird-box between two +fragments of rock, and behind it the land rose rocky, high, and steep, +so as to form a natural wall. A small ledge or terrace of cultivated +land here hung in air,--below it, a precipice of two hundred feet down +into the Gorge of Sorrento. A couple of dozen orange-trees, straight +and tall, with healthy, shining bark, here shot up from the fine black +volcanic soil, and made with their foliage a twilight shadow on the +ground, so deep that no vegetation, save a fine velvet moss, could +dispute their claim to its entire nutritious offices. These trees were +the sole wealth of the women and the sole ornament of the garden; but, +as they stood there, not only laden with golden fruit, but fragrant with +pearly blossoms, they made the little rocky platform seem a perfect +Garden of the Hesperides. The stone cottage, as we have said, had an +open, whitewashed arcade in front, from which one could look down into +the gloomy depths of the gorge, as into some mysterious underworld. +Strange and weird it seemed, with its fathomless shadows and its wild +grottoes, over which hung, silently waving, long pendants of ivy, while +dusky gray aloes uplifted their horned heads from great rock-rifts, like +elfin spirits struggling upward out of the shade. Nor was wanting the +usual gentle poetry of flowers; for white iris leaned its fairy pavilion +over the black void like a pale-cheeked princess from the window of some +dark enchanted castle, and scarlet geranium and golden broom and crimson +gladiolus waved and glowed in the shifting beams of the sunlight. Also +there was in this little spot what forms the charm of Italian gardens +always,--the sweet song and prattle of waters. A clear mountain-spring +burst through the rock on one side of the little cottage, and fell with +a lulling noise into a quaint moss-grown water-trough, which had been in +former times the sarcophagus of some old Roman sepulchre. Its sides were +richly sculptured with figures and leafy scrolls and arabesques, into +which the sly-footed lichens with quiet growth had so insinuated +themselves as in some places almost to obliterate the original design; +while, round the place where the water fell, a veil of ferns and +maiden's-hair, studded with tremulous silver drops, vibrated to its +soothing murmur. The superfluous waters, drained off by a little channel +on one side, were conducted through the rocky parapet of the garden, +whence they trickled and tinkled from rock to rock, falling with a +continual drip among the swaying ferns and pendent ivy-wreaths, till +they reached the little stream at the bottom of the gorge. This parapet +or garden-wall was formed of blocks or fragments of what had once been +white marble, the probable remains of the ancient tomb from which the +sarcophagus was taken. Here and there a marble acanthus-leaf, or the +capital of an old column, or a fragment of sculpture jutted from under +the mosses, ferns, and grasses with which prodigal Nature had filled +every interstice and carpeted the whole. These sculptured fragments +everywhere in Italy seem to whisper from the dust, of past life and +death, of a cycle of human existence forever gone, over whose tomb the +life of to-day is built. + +"Sit down and rest, my dove," said Dame Elsie to her little charge, as +they entered their little inclosure. + +Here she saw for the first time, what she had not noticed in the heat +and hurry of her ascent, that the girl was panting and her gentle bosom +rising and falling in thick heart-beats, occasioned by the haste with +which she had drawn her onward. + +"Sit down, dearie, and I will get you a bit of supper." + +"Yes, grandmother, I will. I must tell my beads once for the soul of the +handsome gentleman that kissed my forehead to-night." + +"How did you know that he was handsome, child?" said the old dame, with +some sharpness in her voice. + +"He bade me look on him, grandmother, and I saw it." + +"You must put such thoughts away, child," said the old dame. + +"Why must I?" said the girl, looking up with an eye as clear and +unconscious as that of a three-year old child. + +"If she does not think, why should I tell her?" said Dame Elsie, as she +turned to go into the house, and left the child sitting on the mossy +parapet that overlooked the gorge. Thence she could see far off, not +only down the dim, sombre abyss, but out to the blue Mediterranean +beyond, now calmly lying in swathing-bands of purple, gold, and orange, +while the smoky cloud that overhung Vesuvius became silver and rose in +the evening light. + +There is always something of elevation and parity that seems to come +over one from being in an elevated region. One feels morally as well as +physically above the world, and from that clearer air able to look down +on it calmly with disengaged freedom. Our little maiden, sat for a few +moments gazing, her large brown eyes dilating with a tremulous lustre, +as if tears were half of a mind to start in them, and her lips apart +with a delicate earnestness, like one who is pursuing some pleasing +inner thought. Suddenly rousing herself, she began by breaking the +freshest orange-blossoms from the golden-fruited trees, and, kissing and +pressing them to her bosom, she proceeded to remove the faded flowers of +the morning from before a little rude shrine in the rock, where, in a +sculptured niche, was a picture of the Madonna and Child, with a locked +glass door in front of it. The picture was a happy transcript of one of +the fairest creations of the religious school of Florence, done by one +of those rustic copyists of whom Italy is full, who appear to possess +the instinct of painting, and to whom we owe many of those sweet +faces which sometimes look down on us by the way-side from rudest and +homeliest shrines. + +The poor fellow by whom it had been painted was one to whom years before +Dame Elsie had given food and shelter for many months during a lingering +illness; and he had painted so much of his dying heart and hopes into it +that it had a peculiar and vital vividness in its power of affecting the +feelings. Agnes had been familiar with this picture from early infancy. +No day of her life had the flowers failed to be freshly placed before +it. It had seemed to smile down sympathy on her childish joys, and to +cloud over with her childish sorrows. It was less a picture to her than +a presence; and the whole air of the little orange-garden seemed to be +made sacred by it. When she had arranged her flowers, she kneeled down +and began to say prayers for the soul of the young gallant. + +"Holy Jesus," she said, "he is young, rich, handsome, and a king's +brother; and for all these things the Fiend may tempt him to forget his +God and throw away his soul. Holy Mother, give him good counsel!" + +"Come, child, to your supper," said Dame Elsie. "I have milked the +goats, and everything is ready." + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE GORGE. + + +After her light supper was over, Agnes took her distaff, wound with +shining white flax, and went and seated herself in her favorite place, +on the low parapet that overlooked the gorge. + +This ravine, with its dizzy depths, its waving foliage, its dripping +springs, and the low murmur of the little stream that pursued its way +far down at the bottom, was one of those things which stimulated her +impressible imagination, and filled her with a solemn and vague delight. +The ancient Italian tradition made it the home of fauns and dryads, wild +woodland creatures, intermediate links between vegetable life and that +of sentient and reasoning humanity. The more earnest faith that came in +with Christianity, if it had its brighter lights in an immortality of +blessedness, had also its deeper shadows in the intenser perceptions it +awakened of sin and evil, and of the mortal struggle by which the human +spirit must avoid endless woe and rise to endless felicity. The myths +with which the colored Italian air was filled in mediaeval ages no +longer resembled those graceful, floating, cloud-like figures one sees +in the ancient chambers of Pompeii,--the bubbles and rainbows of human +fancy, rising aimless and buoyant, with a mere freshness of animal life, +against a black background of utter and hopeless ignorance as to man's +past or future. They were rather expressed by solemn images of +mournful, majestic angels and of triumphant saints, or fearful, warning +presentations of loathsome fiends. Each lonesome gorge and sombre dell +had tales no more of tricky fauns and dryads, but of those restless, +wandering demons who, having lost their own immortality of blessedness, +constantly lie in wait to betray frail humanity, and cheat it of that +glorious inheritance bought by the Great Redemption. + +The education of Agnes had been one which rendered her whole system +peculiarly sensitive and impressible to all influences from the +invisible and unseen. Of this education we shall speak more particularly +hereafter. At present we see her sitting in the twilight on the +moss-grown marble parapet, her distaff, with its silvery flax, lying +idly in her hands, and her widening dark eyes gazing intently into the +gloomy gorge below, from which arose the far-off complaining babble of +the brook at the bottom and the shiver and sigh of evening winds +through the trailing ivy. The white mist was slowly rising, wavering, +undulating, and creeping its slow way up the sides of the gorge. Now it +hid a tuft of foliage, and now it wreathed itself around a horned clump +of aloes, and, streaming far down below it in the dimness, made it seem +like the goblin robe of some strange, supernatural being. + +The evening light had almost burned out in the sky: only a band of vivid +red lay low in the horizon out to sea, and the round full moon was just +rising like a great silver lamp, while Vesuvius with its smoky top began +in the obscurity to show its faintly flickering fires. A vague agitation +seemed to oppress the child; for she sighed deeply, and often repeated +with fervor the Ave Maria. + +At this moment there began to rise from the very depths of the gorge +below her the sound of a rich tenor voice, with a slow, sad modulation, +and seeming to pulsate upward through the filmy, shifting mists. It was +one of those voices which seem fit to be the outpouring of some spirit +denied all other gifts of expression, and rushing with passionate fervor +through this one gate of utterance. So distinctly were the words spoken, +that they seemed each one to rise as with a separate intelligence out of +the mist, and to knock at the door of the heart. + + Sad is my life, and lonely! + No hope for me, + Save thou, my love, my only, + I see! + + Where art then, O my fairest? + Where art thou gone? + Dove of the rock, I languish + Alone! + + They say thou art so saintly, + Who dare love thee? + Yet bend thine eyelids holy + On me! + + Though heaven alone possess thee, + Thou dwell'st above, + Yet heaven, didst thou but know it, + Is love. + +There was such an intense earnestness in these sounds, that large tears +gathered in the wide, dark eyes, and fell one after another upon the +sweet alyssum and maiden's-hair that grew in the crevices of the marble +wall. She shivered and drew away from the parapet, and thought of +stories she had heard the nuns tell of wandering spirits who sometimes +in lonesome places pour forth such entrancing music as bewilders the +brain of the unwary listener, and leads him to some fearful destruction. + +"Agnes!" said the sharp voice of old Elsie, appearing at the +door,--"here! where are you?" + +"Here, grandmamma." + +"Who's that singing this time o' night?" + +"I don't know, grandmamma." + +Somehow the child felt as if that singing were strangely sacred to +her,--a _rapport_ between her and something vague and invisible, which +might yet become dear. + +"Is't down in the gorge?" said the old woman, coming with her heavy, +decided step to the parapet, and looking over, her keen black eyes +gleaming like dagger-blades info the mist. "If there's anybody there," +she said, "let them go away, and not be troubling honest women with any +of their caterwauling. Come, Agnes," she said, pulling the girl by the +sleeve, "you must be tired, my lamb! and your evening-prayers are always +so long, best be about them, girl, so that old grandmamma may put you to +bed. What ails the girl? Been crying! Your hand is cold as a stone." + +"Grandmamma, what if that might be a spirit?" she said. "Sister Rosa +told me stories of singing spirits that have been in this very gorge." + +"Likely enough," said Dame Elsie; "but what's that to us? Let 'em sing! +--so long as we don't listen, where's the harm done? We will sprinkle +holy water all round the parapet, and say the office of Saint Agnes, and +let them sing till they are hoarse." + +Such was the triumphant view which this energetic good woman took of the +power of the means of grace which her church placed at her disposal. + +Nevertheless, while Agnes was kneeling at her evening-prayers, the old +dame consoled herself with a soliloquy, as with a brush she vigorously +besprinkled the premises with holy water. + +"Now, here's the plague of a girl! If she's handsome,--and nobody wants +one that isn't,--why, then, it's a purgatory to look after her. This one +is good enough,--none of your hussies, like Giulietta: but the better +they are, the more sure to have fellows after them. A murrain on that +cavalier,--king's brother, or what not!--it was he serenading, I'll be +bound. I must tell Antonio, and have the girl married, for aught I see: +and I don't want to give her to him either; he didn't bring her up. +There's no peace for us mothers. Maybe I'll tell Father Francesco about +it. That's the way poor little Isella was carried away. Singing is of +the Devil, I believe; it always bewitches girls. I'd like to have poured +some hot oil down the rocks: I'd have made him squeak in another tone, I +reckon. Well, well! I hope I shall come in for a good seat in paradise +for all the trouble I've had with her mother, and am like to have with +her,--that's all!" + +In an hour more, the large, round, sober moon was shining fixedly on +the little mansion in the rocks, silvering the glossy darkness of the +orange-leaves, while the scent of the blossoms arose like clouds about +the cottage. The moonlight streamed through the unglazed casement, and +made a square of light on the little bed where Agnes was sleeping, +in which square her delicate face was framed, with its tremulous and +spiritual expression most resembling in its sweet plaintive purity some +of the Madonna faces of Frà Angelico,--those tender wild-flowers of +Italian religion and poetry. + +By her side lay her grandmother, with those sharp, hard, clearly cut +features, so worn and bronzed by time, so lined with labor and care, as +to resemble one of the Fates in the picture of Michel Angelo; and even +in her sleep she held the delicate lily hand of the child in her own +hard, brown one, with a strong and determined clasp. + +While they sleep, we must tell something more of the story of the little +Agnes,--of what she is, and what are the causes which have made her +such. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHO AND WHAT. + + +Old Elsie was not born a peasant. Originally she was the wife of +a steward in one of those great families of Rome whose state and +traditions were princely. Elsie, as her figure and profile and all her +words and movements indicated, was of a strong, shrewd, ambitious, and +courageous character, and well disposed to turn to advantage every gift +with which Nature had endowed her. + +Providence made her a present of a daughter whose beauty was wonderful, +even in a country where beauty is no uncommon accident. In addition to +her beauty, the little Isella had quick intelligence, wit, grace, and +spirit. As a child she became the pet and plaything of the Duchess whom +Elsie served. This noble lady, pressed by the _ennui_ which is always +the moth and rust on the purple and gold of rank and wealth, had, +as other noble ladies had in those days, and have now, sundry pets: +greyhounds, white and delicate, that looked as if they were made of +Sèvres china; spaniels with long silky ears and fringy paws; apes and +monkeys, that made at times sad devastations in her wardrobe; and a most +charming little dwarf, that was ugly enough to frighten the very owls, +and spiteful as he was ugly. She had, moreover, peacocks, and macaws, +and parrots, and all sorts of singing-birds, and falcons of every breed, +and horses, and hounds,--in short, there is no saying what she did not +have. One day she took it into her head to add the little Isella to the +number of her acquisitions. With the easy grace of aristocracy, she +reached out her jewelled hand and took Elsie's one flower to add to her +conservatory,--and Elsie was only too proud to have it so. + +Her daughter was kept constantly about the person of the Duchess, and +instructed in all the wisdom which would have been allowed her, had she +been the Duchess's own daughter, which, to speak the truth, was in +those days nothing very profound,--consisting of a little singing and +instrumentation, a little embroidery and dancing, with the power of +writing her own name and of reading a love-letter. + +All the world knows that the very idea of a pet is something to be +spoiled for the amusement of the pet-owner; and Isella was spoiled in +the most particular and circumstantial manner. She had suits of apparel +for every day in the year, and jewels without end,--for the Duchess was +never weary of trying the effect of her beauty in this and that costume; +so that she sported through the great grand halls and down the long +aisles of the garden much like a bright-winged hummingbird, or a +damsel-fly all green and gold. She was a genuine child of Italy,--full +of feeling, spirit, and genius,--alive in every nerve to the +finger-tips; and under the tropical sunshine of her mistress's favor she +grew as an Italian rose-bush does, throwing its branches freakishly over +everything in a wild labyrinth of perfume, brightness, and thorns. + +For a while her life was a triumph, and her mother triumphed with her at +an humble distance. The Duchess had no daughter, and was devoted to her +with the blind fatuity with which ladies of rank at times will invest +themselves in a caprice. She arrogated to herself all the praises of her +beauty and wit, allowed her to flirt and make conquests to her heart's +content, and engaged to marry her to some handsome young officer of her +train, when she had done being amused with her. + +Now we must not wonder that a young head of fifteen should have been +turned by this giddy elevation, nor that an old head of fifty should +have thought all things were possible in the fortune of such a favorite. +Nor must we wonder that the young coquette, rich in the laurels of a +hundred conquests, should have turned her bright eyes on the son and +heir, when he came home from the University of Bologna. Nor is it to be +wondered at that this same son and heir, being a man as well as a duke's +son, should have done as other men did,--fallen desperately in love with +this dazzling, sparkling, piquant mixture of matter and spirit, which no +university can prepare a young man to comprehend,--which always seemed +to run from him, and yet always threw a Parthian shot behind her as she +fled. Nor is it to be wondered at, if this same duke's son, after a week +or two, did not know whether he was on his head or his heels, or whether +the sun rose in the east or the south, or where he stood, or whither he +was going. + +In fact, the youthful pair very soon came into that dream-land where are +no more any points of the compass, no more division of time, no more +latitude and longitude, no more up and down, but only a general +wandering among enchanted groves and singing nightingales. + +It was entirely owing to old Elsie's watchful shrewdness and address +that the lovers came into this paradise by the gate of marriage; for the +young man was ready to offer anything at the feet of his divinity, as +the old mother was not slow to perceive. + +So they stood at the altar, for the time being a pair of as true lovers +as Romeo and Juliet: but then, what has true love to do with the son of +a hundred generations and heir to a Roman principality? + +Of course, the rose of love, having gone through all its stages of bud +and blossom into full flower, must next begin to drop its leaves. Of +course. Who ever heard of an immortal rose? + +The time of discovery came. Isella was found to be a mother; and then +the storm burst upon her and drabbled her in the dust as fearlessly as +the summer-wind sweeps down and besmirches the lily it has all summer +been wooing and flattering. + +The Duchess was a very pious and moral lady, and of course threw her +favorite out into the street as a vile weed, and virtuously ground her +down under her jewelled high-heeled shoes. + +She could have forgiven her any common frailty;--of course it was +natural that the girl should have been seduced by the all-conquering +charms of her son;--but aspire to _marriage_ with their house!--pretend +to be her son's _wife_! Since the time of Judas had such treachery ever +been heard of? + +Something was said of the propriety of walling up the culprit alive,--a +mode of disposing of small family-matters somewhat _à la mode_ in those +times. But the Duchess acknowledged herself foolishly tender, and unable +quite to allow this very obvious propriety in the case. + +She contented herself with turning mother and daughter into the streets +with every mark of ignominy, which was reduplicated by every one of her +servants, lackeys, and court-companions, who, of course, had always +known just how the thing must end. + +As to the young Duke, he acted as a well-instructed young nobleman +should, who understands the great difference there is between the tears +of a duchess and those of low-born women. No sooner did he behold his +conduct in the light of his mother's countenance than he turned his +back on his low marriage with edifying penitence. He did not think it +necessary to convince his mother of the real existence of a union whose +very supposition made her so unhappy, and occasioned such an uncommonly +disagreeable and tempestuous state of things in the well-bred circle +where his birth called him to move. Being, however, a religious youth, +he opened his mind to his family-confessor, by whose advice he sent a +messenger with a large sum of money to Elsie, piously commending her and +her daughter to the Divine protection. He also gave orders for an entire +new suit of raiment for the Virgin Mary in the family-chapel, including +a splendid set of diamonds, and promised unlimited candles to the altar +of a neighboring convent. If all this could not atone for a youthful +error, it was a pity. So he thought, as he drew on his riding-gloves +and went off on a hunting-party, like a gallant and religious young +nobleman. + +Elsie, meanwhile, with her forlorn and disgraced daughter, found a +temporary asylum in a neighboring mountain-village, where the poor, +bedrabbled, broken-winged song-bird soon panted and fluttered her little +life away. + +When the once beautiful and gay Isella had been hidden in the grave, +cold and lonely, there remained a little wailing infant, which Elsie +gathered to her bosom. + +Grim, dauntless, and resolute, she resolved, for the sake of this +hapless one, to look life in the face once more, and try the battle +under other skies. + +Taking the infant in her arms, she travelled with her far from the scene +of her birth, and set all her energies at work to make for her a better +destiny than that which had fallen to the lot of her unfortunate mother. + +She set about to create her nature and order her fortunes with that sort +of downright energy with which resolute people always attack the problem +of a new human existence. This child _should be happy_; the rocks on +which her mother was wrecked she should never strike upon,--they were +all marked on Elsie's chart. Love had been the root of all poor Isella's +troubles,--and Agnes never should know love, till taught it safely by a +husband of Elsie's own choosing. + +The first step of security was in naming her for the chaste Saint Agnes, +and placing her girlhood under her special protection. Secondly, which +was quite as much to the point, she brought her up laboriously in habits +of incessant industry,--never suffering her to be out of her sight, or +to have any connection or friendship, except such as could be carried on +under the immediate supervision of her piercing black eyes. Every night +she put her to bed as if she had been an infant, and, wakening her again +in the morning, took her with her in all her daily toils,--of which, to +do her justice, she performed all the hardest portion, leaving to the +girl just enough to keep her hands employed and her head steady. + +The peculiar circumstance which had led her to choose the old town +of Sorrento for her residence, in preference to any of the beautiful +villages which impearl that fertile plain, was the existence there of +a flourishing convent dedicated to Saint Agnes, under whose protecting +shadow her young charge might more securely spend the earlier years of +her life. + +With this view, having hired the domicile we have already described, +she lost no time in making the favorable acquaintance of the +sisterhood,--never coming to them empty-handed. The finest oranges of +her garden, the whitest flax of her spinning, were always reserved as +offerings at the shrine of the patroness whom she sought to propitiate +for her grandchild. + +In her earliest childhood the little Agnes was led toddling to the +shrine by her zealous relative; and at the sight of her fair, sweet, +awe-struck face, with its viny mantle of encircling curls, the torpid +bosoms of the sisterhood throbbed with a strange, new pleasure, which +they humbly hoped was not sinful,--as agreeable things, they found, +generally were. They loved the echoes of her little feet down the damp, +silent aisles of their chapel, and her small, sweet, slender voice, as +she asked strange baby-questions, which, as usual with baby-questions, +hit all the insoluble points of philosophy and theology exactly on the +head. + +The child became a special favorite with the Abbess, Sister Theresa, a +tall, thin, bloodless, sad-eyed woman, who looked as if she might have +been cut out of one of the glaciers of Monte Rosa, but in whose heart +the little fair one had made herself a niche, pushing her way up +through, as you may have seen a lovely blue-fringed gentian standing in +a snow-drift of the Alps with its little ring of melted snow around it. + +Sister Theresa offered to take care of the child at any time when the +grandmother wished to be about her labors; and so, during her early +years, the little one was often domesticated for days together at the +Convent. A perfect mythology of wonderful stories encircled her, which +the good sisters were never tired of repeating to each other. They +were the simplest sayings and doings of childhood,--handfuls of such +wild-flowers as bespread the green turf of nursery-life everywhere, but +miraculous blossoms in the eyes of these good women, whom Saint Agnes +had unwittingly deprived of any power of making comparisons or ever +having Christ's sweetest parable of the heavenly kingdom enacted in +homes of their own. + +Old Jocunda, the porteress, never failed to make a sensation with her +one stock-story of how she found the child standing on her head and +crying,--having been put into this reversed position in consequence of +climbing up on a high stool to get her little fat hand into the vase of +holy water, failing in which Christian attempt, her heels went up and +her head down, greatly to her dismay. + +"Nevertheless," said old Jocunda, gravely, "it showed an edifying turn +in the child; and when I lifted the little thing up, it stopped crying +the minute its little fingers touched the water, and it made a cross on +its forehead as sensible as the oldest among us. Ah, sisters! there's +grace there, or I'm mistaken." + +All the signs of an incipient saint were, indeed, manifested in the +little one. She never played the wild and noisy plays of common +children, but busied herself in making altars and shrines, which she +adorned with the prettiest flowers of the gardens, and at which she +worked hour after hour in the quietest and happiest earnestness. Her +dreams were a constant source of wonder and edification in the Convent, +for they were all of angels and saints; and many a time, after hearing +one, the sisterhood crossed themselves, and the Abbess said, _"Ex oribus +parvulorum."_ Always sweet, dutiful, submissive, cradling herself every +night with a lulling of sweet hymns and infant murmur of prayers, and +found sleeping in her little white bed with her crucifix clasped to her +bosom, it was no wonder that the Abbess thought her the special favorite +of her divine patroness, and, like her, the subject of an early vocation +to be the celestial bride of One fairer than the children of men, who +should snatch her away from all earthly things, to be united to Him in a +celestial paradise. + +As the child grew older, she often sat at evening, with wide, wondering +eyes, listening over and over again to the story of the fair Saint +Agnes:--How she was a princess, living in her father's palace, of such +exceeding beauty and grace that none saw her but to love her, yet of +such sweetness and humility as passed all comparison; and how, when a +heathen prince would have espoused her to his son, she said, "Away from +me, tempter! for I am betrothed to a lover who is greater and fairer +than any earthly suitor,--he is so fair that the sun and moon are +ravished by his beauty, so mighty that the angels of heaven are his +servants"; how she bore meekly with persecutions and threatenings and +death for the sake of this unearthly love; and when she had poured out +her blood, how she came to her mourning friends in ecstatic vision, all +white and glistening, with a fair lamb by her side, and bade them weep +not for her, because she was reigning with Him whom on earth she had +preferred to all other lovers. There was also the legend of the fair +Cecilia, the lovely musician whom angels had rapt away to their choirs; +the story of that queenly saint, Catharine, who passed through the +courts of heaven, and saw the angels crowned with roses and lilies, and +the Virgin on her throne, who gave her the wedding-ring that espoused +her to be the bride of the King Eternal. + +Fed with such legends, it could not be but that a child with a +sensitive, nervous organization and vivid imagination should have grown +up with an unworldly and spiritual character, and that a poetic mist +should have enveloped all her outward perceptions similar to that +palpitating veil of blue and lilac vapor that enshrouds the Italian +landscape. + +Nor is it to be marvelled at, if the results of this system of education +went far beyond what the good old grandmother intended. For, though a +stanch good Christian, after the manner of those times, yet she had not +the slightest mind to see her grand-daughter a nun; on the contrary, +she was working day and night to add to her dowry, and had in her eye +a reputable middle-aged blacksmith, who was a man of substance and +prudence, to be the husband and keeper of her precious treasure. In a +home thus established she hoped to enthrone herself, and provide for the +rearing of a generation of stout-limbed girls and boys who should grow +up to make a flourishing household in the land. This subject she had +not yet broached to her grand-daughter, though daily preparing to do +so,--deferring it, it must be told, from a sort of jealous, yearning +craving to have wholly to herself the child for whom she had lived so +many years. + +Antonio, the blacksmith to whom this honor was destined, was one of +those broad-backed, full-chested, long-limbed fellows one shall often +see around Sorrento, with great, kind, black eyes like those of an ox, +and all the attributes of a healthy, kindly, animal nature. Contentedly +he hammered away at his business; and certainly, had not Dame Elsie +of her own providence elected him to be the husband of her fair +grand-daughter, he would never have thought of the matter himself; but, +opening the black eyes aforenamed upon the girl, he perceived that she +was fair, and also received an inner light through Dame Elsie as to the +amount of her dowry; and, putting these matters together, conceived a +kindness for the maiden, and awaited with tranquillity the time when he +should be allowed to commence his wooing. + + + + +REST AND MOTION. + + +Motion and Rest are the two feet upon which existence goes. All action +and all definite power result from the intimacy and consent of these +opposite principles. If, therefore, one would construct any serviceable +mechanism, he must incorporate into it, and commonly in a manifold way, +a somewhat passive, a somewhat contrary, and, as it were, inimical to +action, though action be the sole aim and use of his contrivance. Thus, +the human body is penetrated by the passive and powerless skeleton, +which is a mere weight upon the muscles, a part of the burden that, +nevertheless, it enables them to bear. The lever of Archimedes would +push the planet aside, provided only it were supplied with its +indispensable complement, a fulcrum, or fixity: without this it will not +push a pin. The block of the pulley must have its permanent attachment; +the wheel of the locomotive engine requires beneath it the fixed rail; +the foot of the pedestrian, solid earth; the wing of the bird rests upon +the relatively stable air to support his body, and upon his body to gain +power over the air. Nor is it alone of operations mechanical that the +law holds good: it is universal; and its application to pure mental +action may be shown without difficulty. A single act of the mind is +represented by the formation of a simple sentence. The process consists, +first, in the mind's _fixing upon and resting in_ an object, which +thereby becomes the subject of the sentence; and, secondly, in +predication, which is movement, represented by the verb. The reader will +easily supply himself with instances and illustrations of this, and need +not, therefore, be detained. + +In the economy of animal and vegetable existence, as in all that Nature +makes, we observe the same inevitable association. Here is perpetual +fixity of form, perpetual flux of constituent,--the ideas of Nature +never changing, the material realization of them never ceasing to +change. A horse is a horse through all the ages; yet the horse of to-day +is changed from the horse of yesterday. + +If one of these principles seem to get the start, and to separate +itself, the other quickly follows. No sooner, for example, does any +person perform an initial deed, proceeding purely (let us suppose) from +free will, than Nature in him begins to repose therein, and consequently +inclines to its repetition for the mere reason that it has been once +done. This is Habit, which makes action passive, and is the greatest of +labor-saving inventions. Custom is the habit of society, holding the +same relation to progressive genius. It is the sleeping partner in the +great social firm; it is thought and force laid up and become +fixed capital. Annihilate this,--as in the French Revolution was +attempted,--and society is at once reduced to its bare immediate force, +and must scratch the soil with its fingers. + +Sometimes these principles seem to be strictly hostile to each other and +in no respect reciprocal, as where habit in the individual and custom in +society oppose themselves bitterly to free will and advancing thought: +yet even here the special warfare is but the material of a broader and +more subtile alliance. An obstinate fixity in one's bosom often serves +as a rock on which to break the shell of some hard inclosed faculty. +Upon stepping-stones of our _slain_ selves we mount to new altitudes. So +do the antagonisms of these principles in the broader field of society +equally conceal a fundamental reciprocation. By the opposition to +his thought of inert and defiant custom, the thinker is compelled to +interrogate his consciousness more deeply and sacredly; and being +cut off from that sympathy which has its foundation in similarity of +temperaments and traditions, he must fall back with simpler abandonment +upon the pure idea, and must seek responses from that absolute nature of +man which the men of his time are not human enough to afford him. This +absolute nature, this divine identity in man, underrunning times, +temperaments, individualities, is that which poet and prophet must +address: yet to speak _to_ it, they must speak _from_ it; to be heard +by the universal heart, they must use a universal language. But +this marvellous vernacular can be known to him alone whose heart is +universal, in whom even self-love is no longer selfish, but is a pure +respect to his own being as it is Being. Well it is, therefore, that +here and there one man should be so denied all petty and provincial +claim to attention, that only by speaking to Man as Man, and in the +sincerest vernacular of the human soul, he can find audience; for thus +it shall become his need, for the sake of joy no less than of duty, to +know himself purely as man, and to yield himself wholly to his immortal +humanity. Thus does fixed custom force back the most moving souls, until +they touch the springs of inspiration, and are indued with power: then, +at once potent and pure, they gush into history, to be influences, to +make epochs, and to prevail over that through whose agency they first +obtained strength. + +Thus, everywhere, through all realms, do the opposite principles of Rest +and Motion depend upon and reciprocally empower each other. In every +act, mechanical, mental, social, must both take part and consent +together; and upon the perfection of this consent depends the quality +of the action. Every progress is conditioned on a permanence; every +permanence _lives_ but in and through progress. Where all, and with +equal and simultaneous impulse, strives to move, nothing can move, but +chaos is come; where all refuses to move, and therefore stagnates, decay +supervenes, which is motion, though a motion downward. + +Having made this general statement, we proceed to say that there are two +chief ways in which these universal opposites enter into reciprocation. +The first and more obvious is the method of alternation, or of rest +_from_ motion; the other, that of continuous equality, which may be +called a rest _in_ motion. These two methods, however, are not mutually +exclusive, but may at once occupy the same ground, and apply to the same +objects,--as oxygen and nitrogen severally fill the same space, to the +full capacity of each, as though the other were absent. + +Instances of the alternation, either total or approximative, of these +principles are many and familiar. They may be seen in the systole and +diastole of the heart; in the alternate activity and passivity of the +lungs; in the feet of the pedestrian, one pausing while the other +proceeds; in the waving wings of birds; in the undulation of the sea; in +the creation and propagation of sound, and the propagation, at least, +of light; in the alternate acceleration and retardation of the earth's +motion in its orbit, and in the waving of its poles. In all vibrations +and undulations there is a going and returning, between which must exist +minute periods of repose; but in many instances the return is simply a +relaxation or a subsidence, and belongs, therefore, to the department of +rest. Discourse itself, it will be observed, has its pauses, seasons of +repose thickly interspersed in the action of speech; and besides these +has its accented and unaccented syllables, emphatic and unemphatic +words,--illustrating thus in itself the law which it here affirms. +History is full of the same thing; the tides of faith and feeling now +ascend and now subside, through all the ages, in the soul of humanity; +each new affirmation prepares the way for new doubt, each honest doubt +in the end furthers and enlarges belief; the pendulum of destiny swings +to and fro forever, and earth's minutest life and heaven's remotest star +swing with it, rising but to fall, and falling that they may rise again. +So does rhythm go to the very bottom of the world: the heart of Nature +pulses, and the echoing shore and all music and the throbbing heart and +swaying destinies of man but follow and proclaim the law of her inward +life. + +The universality and mutual relationship of these primal principles +have, perhaps, been sufficiently set forth; and this may be the place to +emphasize the second chief point,--that the perfection of this mutuality +measures the degree of excellence in all objects and actions. It +will everywhere appear, that, the more regular and symmetrical their +relationship, the more beautiful and acceptable are its results. For +example, sounds proceeding from vibrations wherein the strokes and +pauses are in invariable relation are such sounds as we denominate +_musical._ Accordingly all sounds are musical at a sufficient distance, +since the most irregular undulations are, in a long journey through the +air, wrought to an equality, and made subject to exact law,--as in +this universe all irregularities are sure to be in the end. Thus, the +thunder, which near at hand is a wild crash, or nearer yet a crazy +crackle, is by distance deepened and refined into that marvellous bass +which we all know. And doubtless the jars, the discords, and moral +contradictions of time, however harsh and crazy at the outset, flow +into exact undulation along the ether of eternity, and only as a pure +proclamation of law attain to the ear of Heaven. Nay, whoso among men is +able to plant his ear high enough above this rude clangor may, in like +manner, so hear it, that it shall be to him melody, solace, fruition, +a perpetual harvest of the heart's dearest wishes, a perpetual +corroboration of that which faith affirms. + +We may therefore easily understand why musical sounds _are_ musical, why +they are acceptable and moving, while those affront the sense in which +the minute reposes are capricious, and, as it were, upon ill terms with +the movements. The former appeal to what is most universal and cosmical +within us,--to the pure Law, the deep Nature in our breasts; they fall +in with the immortal rhythm of life itself, which the others encounter +and impugn. + +It will be seen also that verse differs from prose as musical sounds +from ordinary tones; and having so deep a ground in Nature, rhythmical +speech will be sure to continue, in spite of objection and protest, were +it, if possible, many times more energetic than that of Mr. Carlyle. But +always the best prose has a certain rhythmic emphasis and cadence: in +Milton's grander passages there is a symphony of organs, the bellows of +the mighty North (one might say) filling their pipes; Goldsmith's flute +still breathes through his essays; and in the ampler prose of Bacon +there is the swell of a summer ocean, and you can half fancy you hear +the long soft surge falling on the shore. Also in all good writing, +as in good reading, the pauses suffer no slight; they are treated +handsomely; and each sentence rounds gratefully and clearly into rest. +Sometimes, indeed, an attempt is made to react in an illegitimate way +this force of firm pauses, as in exaggerated French style, wherein the +writer seems never to stride or to run, but always to jump like a frog. + +Again, as reciprocal opposites, our two principles should be of equal +dignity and value. To concede, however, the equality of rest with motion +must, for an American, be not easy; and it is therefore in point to +assert and illustrate this in particular. What better method of doing so +than that of taking some one large instance in Nature, if such can +be found, and allowing this, after fair inspection, to stand for all +others? And, as it happens, just what we require is quite at hand;--the +alternation of Day and Night, of sleep and waking, is so broad, obvious, +and familiar, and so mingled with our human interests, that its two +terms are easily subjected to extended and clear comparison; while also +it deserves discussion upon its own account, apart from its relation to +the general subject. + +Sleep is now popularly known to be coextensive with Life,--inseparable +from vital existence of whatever grade. The rotation of the earth +is accordingly implied, as was happily suggested by Paley, in the +constitution of every animal and every plant. It is quite evident, +therefore, that this necessity was not laid upon, man through some +inadvertence of Nature; on the contrary, this arrangement must be such +as to her seemed altogether suitable, and, if suitable, economical. +Eager men, however, avaricious of performance, do not always regard it +with entire complacency. Especially have the saints been apt to set up +a controversy with Nature in this particular, submitting with infinite +unwillingness to the law by which they deem themselves, as it were, +defrauded of life and activity in so large measure. In form, to be +sure, their accusation lies solely against themselves; they reproach +themselves with sleeping beyond need, sleeping for the mere luxury and +delight of it; but the venial self-deception is quite obvious,--nothing +plainer than that it is their necessity itself which is repugnant to +them, and that their wills are blamed for not sufficiently withstanding +and thwarting it. Pious William Law, for example, is unable to disparage +sleep enough for his content. "The poorest, dullest refreshment of the +body," he calls it,... "such a dull, stupid state of existence, that +even among animals we despise them most which are most drowsy." +You should therefore, so he urges, "begin the day in the spirit of +renouncing sleep." Baxter, also,--at that moment a walking catalogue +and epitome of all diseases,--thought himself guilty for all sleep he +enjoyed beyond three hours a day. More's Utopians were to rise at very +early hours, and attend scientific lectures before breakfast. + +Ambition and cupidity, which, in their way, are no whit less earnest and +self-sacrificing than sanctity, equally look upon sleep as a wasteful +concession to bodily wants, and equally incline to limit such concession +to its mere minimum. Commonplaces accordingly are perpetually +circulating in the newspapers, especially in such as pretend to a +didactic tone, wherein all persons are exhorted to early rising, to +resolute abridgment of the hours of sleep, and the like. That Sir Walter +Raleigh slept but five hours in twenty-four; that John Hunter, Frederick +the Great, and Alexander von Humboldt slept but four; that the Duke of +Wellington made it an invariable rule to "turn out" whenever he felt +inclined to turn over, and John Wesley to arise upon his first awaking: +instances such as these appear on parade with the regularity of militia +troops at muster; and the precept duly follows,--"Whoso would not be +insignificant, let him go and do likewise." "All great men have been +early risers," says my newspaper. + +Of late, indeed, a better knowledge of the laws of health, or perhaps +only a keener sense of its value and its instability, begins to +supersede these rash inculcations; and paragraphs due to some discreet +Dr. Hall make the rounds of the press, in which we are reminded that +early rising, in order to prove a benefit, rather than a source of +mischief, must be duly matched with early going to bed. The one, we are +told, will by no means answer without the other. As yet, however, this +is urged upon hygienic grounds alone; it is a mere concession to the +body, a bald necessity that we hampered mortals lie under; which +necessity we are quite at liberty to regret and accuse, though we cannot +with safety resist it. Sleep is still admitted to be a waste of time, +though one with which Nature alone is chargeable. And I own, not without +reluctance, that the great authority of Plato can be pleaded for this +low view of its functions. In the "Laws" he enjoins a due measure +thereof, but for the sake of health alone, and adds, that the sleeper +is, for the time, of no more value than the dead. Clearly, mankind would +sustain some loss of good sense, were all the dullards and fat-wits +taken away; and Sancho Panza, with his hearty, "Blessings on the man +that invented sleep!" here ekes out the scant wisdom of sages. The +talking world, however, of our day takes part with the Athenian against +the Manchegan philosopher, and, while admitting the present necessity of +sleep, does not rejoice in its original invention. If, accordingly, in a +computation of the length of man's life, the hours passed in slumber are +carefully deducted, and considered as forming no part of available time, +not even the medical men dispute the justice of such procedure. They +have but this to say:--"The stream of life is not strong enough to keep +the mill of action always going; we must therefore periodically shut +down the gate and allow the waters to accumulate; and he ever loses more +than he gains who attempts any avoidance of this natural necessity." + +As medical men, they are not required, perhaps, to say more; and we will +be grateful to them for faithfully urging this,--especially when we +consider, that, under the sage arrangements now existing, all that the +physician does for the general promotion of health is done in defiance +of his own interests. We, however, have further questions to ask. Why is +not the life-stream more affluent? Sleep _is_ needful,--but _wherefore_? +The physician vindicates the sleeper; but the philosopher must vindicate +Nature. + +It is surely one step toward an elucidation of this matter to observe +that the necessity here accused is not one arbitrarily laid upon us _by_ +Nature, but one existing _in_ Nature herself, and appertaining to the +very conception of existence. The elucidation, however, need not pause +at this point. The assumption that sleep is a piece of waste, as being a +mere restorative for the body, and not a service or furtherance to the +mind,--this must be called in question and examined closely; for it is +precisely in this assumption, as I deem, that the popular judgment goes +astray. _Is_ sleep any such arrest and detention of the mind? That it is +a shutting of those outward gates by which impressions flow in upon the +soul is sufficiently obvious; but who can assure us that it is equally +a closing of those inward and skyward gates through which come +the reinforcements of faculty, the strength that masters and uses +impression? I persuade myself, on the contrary, that it is what Homer +called it, _divine_,--able, indeed, to bring the blessing of a god; and +that hours lawfully passed under the pressure of its heavenly palms are +fruitful, not merely negatively, but positively, not only as recruiting +exhausted powers, and enabling us to be awake again, but by direct +contribution to the resources of the soul and the uses of life; that, in +fine, one awakes farther on in _life_, as well as farther on in _time_, +than he was at falling asleep. This deeper function of the night, what +is it? + +Sleep is, first of all, a filter, or sieve. It strains off the +impressions that engross, but not enrich us,--that superfluous +_material_ of experience which, either from glutting excess, or from +sheer insignificance, cannot be spiritualized, made human, transmuted +into experience itself. Every man in our day, according to the measure +of his sensibility, and with some respect also to his position, is +_mobbed_ by impressions, and must fight as for his life, if he escape +being taken utterly captive by them. It is our perpetual peril that +our lives shall become so sentient as no longer to be reflective or +artistic,--so beset and infested by the immediate as to lose all +amplitude, all perspective, and to become mere puppets of the present, +mere Chinese pictures, a huddle of foreground without horizon, or +heaven, or even earthly depth and reach. It is easy to illustrate this +miserable possibility. A man, for example, in the act of submitting +to the extraction of a tooth, is, while the process lasts, one of the +poorest poor creatures with whose existence the world might be taunted. +His existence is but skin-deep, and contracted to a mere point at that: +no vision and faculty divine, no thoughts that wander through eternity, +now: a tooth, a jaw, and the iron of the dentist,--these constitute, for +the time being, his universe. Only when this monopolizing, enslaving, +sensualizing impression has gone by, may what had been a point of pained +and quivering animality expand once more to the dimensions of a human +soul. Kant, it is said, could withdraw his attention from the pain of +gout by pure mental engagement, but found the effort dangerous to +his brain, and accordingly was fain to submit, and be no more than +a toe-joint, since evil fate would have it so. These extreme cases +exemplify a process of impoverishment from which we all daily suffer. +The external, the immediate, the idiots of the moment, telling tales +that signify nothing, yet that so overcry the suggestion of our deeper +life as by the sad and weary to be mistaken for the discourse of life +itself,--these obtrude themselves upon us, and multiply and brag and +brawl about us, until we have neither room for better guests, nor +spirits for their entertainment. We are like schoolboys with eyes out at +the windows, drawn by some rattle of drum and squeak of fife, who would +study, were they but deaf. Reproach sleep as a waste, forsooth! It is +this tyrannical attraction to the surface, that indeed robs us of time, +and defrauds us of the uses of life. We cannot hear the gods for the +buzzing of flies. We are driven to an idle industry,--the idlest of all +things. + +And to this description of loss men are nowadays peculiarly exposed. +The modern world is all battle-field; the smoke, the dust, the din fill +every eye and ear; and the hill-top of Lucretius, where is it? The +indispensable, terrible newspaper, with its late allies, the Titans and +sprites of steam and electricity,--bringing to each retired nook, +and thrusting in upon each otherwise peaceful household, the crimes, +follies, fears, solicitudes, doubts, problems of all kingdoms and +peoples,--exasperates the former Scotch mist of impressions into a +flooding rain, and almost threatens to swamp the brain of mankind. The +incitement to thought is ever greater; but the possibility of thinking, +especially of thinking in a deep, simple, central way, is ever less. +Problems multiply, but how to attend to them is ever a still greater +problem. Guests of the intellect and imagination accumulate until the +master of the house is pushed out of doors, and hospitality ceases from +the mere excess of its occasion. That must be a greater than Homer who +should now do Homer's work. He, there in his sweet, deep-skied Ionia, +privileged with an experience so simple and yet so salient and powerful, +might well hope to act upon this victoriously by his spirit, might hope +to transmute it, as indeed he did, into melodious and enduring human +suggestion. Would it have been all the same, had he lived in our +type-setting modern world, with its multitudinous knowledges, its +aroused conscience, its spurred and yet thwarted sympathies, its new +incitements to egotism also, and new tools and appliances for egotism +to use,--placed, as it were, in the focus of a vast whispering-gallery, +where all the sounds of heaven and earth came crowding, contending, +incessant upon his ear? One sees at a glance how the serious thought and +poetry of Greece cling to a few master facts, not being compelled to +fight always with the many-headed monster of detail; and this suggests +to me that our literature may fall short of Grecian amplitude, depth, +and simplicity, not wholly from inferiority of power, but from +complications appertaining to our position. + +The problem of our time is, How to digest and assimilate the Newspaper? +To complain of it, to desire its abolition, is an anachronism of the +will: it is to complain that time proceeds, and that events follow each +other in due sequence. It is hardly too bold to say that the newspaper +_is_ the modern world, as distinct from the antique and the mediaeval. +It represents, by its advent, that epoch in human history wherein +each man must begin, in proportion to his capability of sympathy and +consideration, to collate his private thoughts, fortunes, interests with +those of the human race at large. We are now in the crude openings of +this epoch, fevered by its incidents and demands; and one of its tokens +is a general exhaustion of the nervous system and failure of health, +both here and in Europe,--those of most sensitive spirit, and least +retired and sheltered from the impressions of the time, suffering most. +All this will end, _must_ end, victoriously. In the mean time can we not +somewhat adjust ourselves to this new condition? + +One thing we can and must not fail to do: we can learn to understand and +appreciate Rest. In particular, we should build up and reinforce the +powers of the night to offset this new intensity of the day. Such, +indeed, as the day now is has it ever been, though in a less degree: +always it has cast upon men impressions significant, insignificant, and +of an ill significance, promiscuously and in excess; and always sleep +has been the filter of memory, the purifier of experience, providing a +season that follows closely upon the impressions of the day, ere yet +they are too deeply imbedded, in which our deeper life may pluck away +the adhering burrs from its garments, and arise disburdened, clean, and +free. I make no doubt that Death also performs, though in an ampler and +more thorough way, the same functions. It opposes the tyranny of memory. +For were our experience to go on forever accumulating, unwinnowed, +undiminished, every man would sooner or later break down beneath it; +every man would be crushed by his own traditions, becoming a grave to +himself, and drawing the clods over his own head. To relieve us of these +accidental accretions, to give us back to ourselves, is the use, +in part, of that sleep which rounds each day, and of that other +sleep--brief, but how deep!--which rounds each human life. + +Accordingly, he who sleeps well need not die so soon,--even as in the +order of Nature he will not. He has that other and rarer half of a good +memory, namely, a good forgetting. For none remembers so ill as he that +remembers all. "A great German scholar affirmed that he knew not what +it was to forget." Better have been born an idiot! An unwashed +memory,--faugh! To us moderns and Americans, therefore, who need +above all things to forget well,--our one imperative want being a +simplification of experience,--to us, more than to all other men, is +requisite, in large measure of benefit, the winnowing-fan of sleep, +sleep with its choices and exclusions, if we would not need the offices +of death too soon. + +But a function of yet greater depth and moment remains to be indicated. +Sleep enables the soul not only to shed away that which is foreign, +but to adopt and assimilate whatever is properly its own. Dr. Edward +Johnson, a man of considerable penetration, though not, perhaps, of a +balanced judgment, has a dictum to the effect that the formation of +blood goes on during our waking hours, but the composition of tissue +during those of sleep. I know not upon what grounds of evidence +this statement is made; but one persuades himself that it must be +approximately true of the body, since it is undoubtedly so of the soul. +Under the eye of the sun the fluid elements of character are supplied; +but the final edification takes place beneath the stars. Awake, we +think, feel, act; sleeping, we _become_. Day feeds our consciousness; +night, out of those stores which action has accumulated, nourishes the +vital unconsciousness, the pure unit of the man. During sleep, the valid +and serviceable experience of the day is drawn inward, wrought upon by +spiritual catalysis, transmitted into conviction, sentiment, character, +life, and made part of that which is to attract and assimilate all +subsequent experience. Who, accordingly, has not awaked to find some +problem already solved with which he had vainly grappled on the +preceding day? It is not merely that in the morning our invigorated +powers work more efficiently, and enable us to reach this solution +immediately _after_ awaking. Often, indeed, this occurs; but there are +also numerous instances--and such alone are in point--wherein the work +is complete _before_ one's awakening: not unfrequently it is by the +energy itself of the new perception that the soft bonds of slumber are +first broken; the soul hails its new dawn with so lusty a cheer, +that its clarion reaches even to the ear of the body, and we are +unconsciously murmuring the echoes of that joyous salute while yet the +iris-hued fragments of our dreams linger about us. The poet in the +morning, if true divine slumber have been vouchsafed him, finds his +mind enriched with sweeter imaginations, the thinker with profounder +principles and wider categories: neither begins the new day where +he left the old, but each during his rest has silently, wondrously, +advanced to fresh positions, commanding the world now from nobler +summits, and beholding around him an horizon beyond that over which +yesterday's sun rose and set. Milton gives us testimony very much in +point:-- + + "My celestial patroness, who deigns + Her nightly visitation unimplored, + And dictates to me slumb'ring." + +Thus, in one important sense, is day the servant of night, action the +minister of rest. I fancy, accordingly, that Marcus Antoninus may give +Heraclitus credit for less than his full meaning in saying that "men +asleep are then also laboring"; for he understands him to signify only +that through such the universe is still accomplishing its ends. Perhaps +he meant to indicate what has been here affirmed,--that in sleep one's +personal destiny is still ripening, his true life proceeding. + +But if, as the instance which has been under consideration suggests, +these two principles are of equal dignity, it will follow that the +ability to rest profoundly is of no less estimation than the ability to +work powerfully. Indeed, is it not often the condition upon which great +and sustained power of action depends? The medal must have two sides. +"Danton," says Carlyle, "was a great nature that could rest." Were not +the force and terror of his performance the obverse fact? I do not +now mean, however true it would be, to say that without rest physical +resources would fail, and action be enfeebled in consequence; I mean +that the soul which wants the attitude of repose wants the condition of +power. There is a petulant and meddlesome industry which proceeds from +spiritual debility, and causes more; it is like the sleeplessness and +tossing of exhausted nervous patients, which arises from weakness, and +aggravates its occasion. As few things are equally wearisome, so few are +equally wasteful, with a perpetual indistinct sputter of action, whereby +nothing is done and nothing let alone. Half the world _breaks_ out with +action; its performance is cutaneous, of the nature of tetter. Hence is +it that in the world, with such a noise of building, so few edifices are +reared. + +We require it as a pledge of the sanity of our condition, and consequent +wholesomeness of our action, that we can withhold our hand, and +leave the world in that of its Maker. No man is quite necessary to +Omnipotence; grass grew before we were born, and doubtless will continue +to grow when we are dead. If we act, let it be because our soul has +somewhat to bring forth, and not because our fingers itch. We have in +these days been emphatically instructed that all speech not rooted in +silence, rooted, that is, in pure, vital, silent Nature, is +poor and unworthy; but we should be aware that action equally +requires this solemn and celestial perspective, this issue out of the +never-trodden, noiseless realms of the soul. Only that which comes from +a divine depth can attain to a divine height. + +There is a courage of withholding and forbearing greater than any other +courage; and before this Fate itself succumbs. Wellington won the +Battle of Waterloo by heroically standing still; and every hour of that +adventurous waiting was heaping up significance for the moment when at +length he should cry, "Up, Guards, and at them !" What Cecil said of +Raleigh, "He can toil terribly," has been styled "an electric touch"; +but the "masterly inactivity" of Sir James Mackintosh, happily +appropriated by Mr. Calhoun, carries an equal appeal to intuitive sense, +and has already become proverbial. He is no sufficient hero who in the +delays of Destiny, when his way is hedged up and his hope deferred, +cannot reserve his strength and bide his time. The power of acting +greatly includes that of greatly abstaining from action. The leader of +an epoch in affairs should therefore be some Alfred, Bruce, Gustavus +Vasa, Cromwell, Washington, Garibaldi, who can wait while the iron of +opportunity heats at the forge of time; and then, in the moment of its +white glow, can so smite as to shape it forever to the uses of mankind. + +One should be able not only to wait, but to wait strenuously, sternly, +immovably, rooted in his repose like a mountain oak in the soil; for +it may easily happen that the necessity of refraining shall be most +imperative precisely when, the external pressure toward action is most +vehement. Amid the violent urgency of events, therefore, one should +learn the art of the mariner, who, in time of storm lies to, with sails +mostly furled, until milder gales permit him again to spread sail +and stretch away. With us, as with him, even a fair wind may blow so +fiercely that one cannot safely run before it. There are movements with +whose direction we sympathize, which are yet so ungoverned that we lose +our freedom and the use of our reason in committing ourselves to +them. So the seaman who runs too long before the increasing gale has +thereafter no election; go on he must, for there is death in pausing, +though it be also death to proceed. Learn, therefore, to wait. Is there +not many a one who never arrives at fruit, for no better reason than +that he persists in plucking his own blossoms? Learn to wait. Take time, +with the smith, to raise your arm, if you would deliver a telling blow. + +Does it seem wasteful, this waiting? Let us, then, remind ourselves that +excess and precipitation are more than wasteful,--they are directly +destructive. The fire that blazes beyond bounds not warms the house, +but burns it down, and only helps infinitesimally to warm the wide +out-of-doors. Any live snail will out-travel a wrecked locomotive, and +besides will leave no trail of slaughter on its track. Though despatch +be the soul of business, yet he who outruns his own feet comes to the +ground, and makes no despatch,--unless it be of himself. Hurry is the +spouse of Flurry, and the father of Confusion. Extremes meet, and +overaction steadfastly returns to the effect of non-action,--bringing, +however, the seven devils of disaster in its company. The ocean storm +which heaps the waves so high may, by a sufficient increase, blow them +down again; and in no calm is the sea so level as in the extremest +hurricane. + +Persistent excess of outward performance works mischief in one of two +directions,--either upon the body or on the soul. If one will not +accommodate himself to this unreasonable quantity by abatement of +quality,--if he be resolute to put love, faith, and imagination into +his labor, and to be alive to the very top of his brain,--then the body +enters a protest, and dyspepsia, palsy, phthisis, insanity, or somewhat +of the kind, ensues. Commonly, however, the tragedy is different from +this, and deeper. Commonly, in these cases, action loses height as it +gains lateral surface; the superior faculties starve, being robbed of +sustenance by this avarice of performance, and consequently of supply, +on the part of the lower,--they sit at second table, and eat of +remainder-crumbs. The delicate and divine sprites, that should bear the +behests of the soul to the will and to the houses of thought in the +brain her intuitions, are crowded out from the streets of the cerebral +cities by the mob and trample of messengers bound upon baser errands; +and thus is the soul deprived of service, and the man of inspiration. +The man becomes, accordingly, a great merchant who values a cent, but +does not value a human sentiment; or a lawyer who can convince a jury +that white is black, but cannot convince himself that white is white, +God God, and the sustaining faiths of great souls more than moonshine. +So if the apple-tree will make too much wood, it can bear no fruit; +during summer it is full of haughty thrift, but the autumn, which brings +grace to so many a dwarfed bush and low shrub, shows it naked and in +shame. + +How many mistake the crowing of the cock for the rising of the sun, +albeit the cock often crows at midnight, or at the moon's rising, or +only at the advent of a lantern and a tallow candle! And yet what +a bloated, gluttonous devourer of hopes and labors is this same +precipitation! All shores are strown with wrecks of barks that went too +soon to sea. And if you launch even your well-built ship at half-tide, +what will it do but strike bottom, and stick there? The perpetual +tragedy of literary history, in especial, is this. What numbers of young +men, gifted with great imitative quickness, who, having, by virtue of +this, arrived at fine words and figures of speech, set off on their +nimble rhetorical Pegasus, keep well out of the Muse's reach ever +after! How many go conspicuously through life, snapping their smart +percussion-caps upon empty barrels, because, forsooth, powder and ball +do not come of themselves, and it takes time to load! + +I know that there is a divine impatience, a rising of the waters of love +and noble pain till they _must_ overflow, with or without the hope of +immediate apparent use, and no matter what swords and revenges impend. +History records a few such defeats which are worth thousands of ordinary +victories. Yet the rule is, that precipitation comes of levity. +Eagerness is shallow. Haste is but half-earnest. If an apple is found +to grow mellow and seemingly ripe much before its fellows on the same +bough, you will probably discover, upon close inspection, that there is +a worm in it. + +To be sure, any time is too soon with those who dote upon Never. There +are such as find Nature precipitate and God forward. They would have +effect limp at untraversable distances behind cause; they would keep +destiny carefully abed and feed it upon spoon-victual. They play duenna +to the universe, and are perpetually on the _qui vive_, lest it escape, +despite their care, into improprieties. The year is with them too fast +by so much as it removes itself from the old almanac. The reason is that +_they_ are the old almanac. Or, more distinctly, they are at odds with +universal law, and, knowing that to them it can come only as judgment +and doom, they, not daring to denounce the law itself, fall to the trick +of denouncing its agents as visionaries, and its effects as premature. +The felon always finds the present an unseasonable day on which to be +hanged: the sheriff takes another view of the matter. + +But the error of these consists, not in realizing good purposes too +slowly and patiently, but in failing effectually to purpose good at +all. To those who truly are making it the business of their lives to +accomplish worthy aims, this counsel cannot come amiss,--TAKE TIME. +Take a year in which to thread a needle, rather than go dabbing at the +texture with the naked thread. And observe, that there is an excellence +and an efficacy of slowness, no less than of quickness. The armadillo +is equally secure of his prey with the hawk or leopard; and Sir Charles +Bell mentions a class of thieves in India, who, having, through +extreme patience and command of nerve, acquired the power of motion +imperceptibly slow, are the most formidable of all peculators, and +almost defy precaution. And to leave these low instances, slowness +produced by profoundness of feeling and fineness of perception +constitutes that divine patience of genius without which genius does not +exist. Mind lingers where appetite hurries on; it is only the Newtons +who stay to meditate over the fall of an apple, too trivial for the +attention of the clown. It is by this noble slowness that the highest +minds faintly emulate that inconceivable deliberateness and delicacy of +gradation with which solar systems are built and worlds habilitated. + +Now haste and intemperance are the Satans that beset virtuous Americans. +And these mischiefs are furthered by those who should guard others +against them. The Rev. Dr. John Todd, in a work, not destitute of merit, +entitled "The Student's Manual," urges those whom he addresses to study, +while about it, with their utmost might, crowding into an hour as much +work as it can possibly be made to contain; so, he says, they will +increase the power of the brain. But this is advice not fit to be given +to a horse, much less to candidates for the graces of scholarly manhood. +I read that race-horses, during the intervals between their public +contests, are permitted only occasionally and rarely to be driven at +their extreme speed, but are assiduously made to _walk_ several hours +each day. By this constancy of _moderate_ exercise they preserve health +and suppleness of limb, without exhaustion of strength. And it appears, +that, were such an animal never to be taken from the stable but to be +pushed to the top of his speed, he would be sure to make still greater +speed toward ruin. Why not be as wise for men as for horses? + +And here I desire to lay stress upon one point, which American students +will do well to consider gravely,--_It is a_ PURE, _not a strained and +excited, attention which has signal prosperity._ Distractions, tempests, +and head-winds in the brain, by-ends, the sidelong eyes of vanity, the +overleaping eyes of ambition, the bleared eyes of conceit,--these are +they which thwart study and bring it to nought. Nor these only, but all +impatience, all violent eagerness, all passionate and perturbed feeling, +fill the brain with thick and hot blood, suited to the service of +desire, unfit for the uses of thought. Intellect can be served only by +the finest properties of the blood; and if there be any indocility +of soul, any impurity of purpose, any coldness or carelessness, any +prurience or crude and intemperate heat, then base spirits are sent down +from the seat of the soul to summon the sanguineous forces; and these +gather a crew after their own kind. Purity of attention, then, is the +magic that the scholar may use; and let him know, that, the purer it is, +the more temperate, tranquil, reposeful. Truth is not to be run down +with fox-hounds; she is a divinity, and divinely must he draw nigh who +will gain her presence. Go to, thou bluster-brain! Dost thou think to +learn? Learn docility first, and the manners of the skies. And thou +egotist, thinkest thou that these eyes of thine, smoky with the fires of +diseased self-love, and thronged with deceiving wishes, shall perceive +the essential and eternal? They shall see only silver and gold, houses +and lands, reputes, supremacies, fames, and, as instrumental to these, +the forms of logic and seemings of knowledge. If thou wilt discern the +truth, desire IT, not its accidents and collateral effects. Rest in the +pursuit of it, putting _simplicity of quest_ in the place of either +force or wile; and such quest cannot be unfruitful. + +Let the student, then, shun an excited and spasmodic tension of brain, +and he will gain more while expending less. It is not toil, it is morbid +excitement, that kills; and morbid excitement in constant connection +with high mental endeavor is, of all modes and associations of +excitement, the most disastrous. Study as the grass grows, and your old +age--and its laurels--shall be green. + +Already, however, we are trenching upon that more intimate relationship +of the great opposites under consideration which has been designated +Rest _in_ Motion. More intimate relationship, I say,--at any rate, +more subtile, recondite, difficult of apprehension and exposition, and +perhaps, by reason of this, more central and suggestive. An example +of this in its physical aspect may be seen in the revolutions of the +planets, and in all orbital or circular motion. For such, it will be +at once perceived, is, in strictness of speech, _fixed and stationary_ +motion: it is, as Sir Isaac Newton demonstrated, an exact and equal +obedience, in the same moment, to the law of fixity and the law of +progression. Observe especially, that it is not, like merely retarded +motion, a partial neutralization of each principle by the other, an +imbecile Aristotelian compromise and half-way house between the two; +but it is at once, and in virtue of the same fact, perfect Rest _and_ +perfect Motion. A revolving body is not hindered, but the same impulse +which begot its movement causes this perpetually to return into itself. + +Now the principles that are seen to govern the material universe are +but a large-lettered display of those that rule in perfect humanity. +Whatsoever makes distinguished order and admirableness in Nature makes +the same in man; and never was there a fine deed that was not begot of +the same impulse and ruled by the same laws to which solar systems are +due. I desire, accordingly, here to take up and emphasize the statement +previously made in a general way,--that the secret of perfection in +all that appertains to man--in morals, manners, art, politics--must +be sought in such a correspondence and reciprocation of these great +opposites as the motions of the planets perfectly exemplify. + +It must not, indeed, be overlooked or unacknowledged, that the planets +do not move in exact circles, but diverge slightly into ellipses. The +fact is by no means without significance, and that of an important kind. +Pure circular motion is the type of perfection in the universe as +a _whole_, but each part of the whole will inevitably express its +partiality, will acknowledge its special character, and upon the +frankness of this confession its comeliness will in no small degree +depend; nevertheless, no sooner does the eccentricity, or individuality, +become so great as to suggest disloyalty to the idea of the whole, +than ugliness ensues. Thus, comets are portents, shaking the faith of +nations, not supporting it, like the stars. So among men. Nature is +at pains to secure divergence, magnetic variation, putting into every +personality and every powerful action some element of irregularity +and imperfection; and her reason for doing so is, that irregularity +appertains to the state of growth, and is the avenue of access to higher +planes and broader sympathies; still, as the planets, though not moving +in perfect circles, yet come faithfully round to the same places, and +accomplish _the ends_ of circular motion, so in man, the divergence must +be special, not total, no act being the mere arc of a circle, and yet +_revolution_ being maintained. And to the beauty of characters and +deeds, it is requisite that they should never seem even to imperil +fealty to the universal idea. Revolution perfectly exact expresses only +necessity, not voluntary fidelity; but departure, _still deferential to +the law of the whole_, in evincing freedom elevates its obedience +into fealty and noble faithfulness: by this measure of eccentricity, +centricity is not only emphasized, but immeasurably exalted. + +But having made this full and willing concession to the element of +individuality in persons and of special character in actions, we are at +liberty to resume the general thesis,--that orbital rest of movement +furnishes the type of perfect excellence, and suggests accordingly the +proper targe of aspiration and culture. + +In applying this law, we will take first a low instance, wherein the +opposite principles stand apart, rather upon terms of outward covenant, +or of mere mixture, than of mutual assimilation. _Man_ is infinite; +_men_ are finite: the purest aspect of great laws never appears in +collections and aggregations, yet the same laws rule here as in the +soul, and such excellence as is possible issues from the same sources. +As an instance, accordingly, of that ruder reciprocation which may +obtain among multitudes, I name the Roman Legion. + +It is said that the success of the armies of Rome is not fully accounted +for, until one takes into account the constitution of this military +body. It united, in an incomparable degree, the different advantages +of fixity and fluency. Moderate in size, yet large enough to give the +effect of mass, open in texture, yet compact in form, it afforded to +every man room for individual prowess, while it left no man to his +individual strength. Each soldier leaned and rested upon the Legion, +a body of six thousand men; yet around each was a space in which his +movements might be almost as free, rapid, and individual as though he +had possessed the entire field to himself. The Macedonian Phalanx was a +marvel of mass, but it was mass not penetrated with mobility; it could +move, indeed could be said to have an existence, only as a whole; +its decomposed parts were but _débris_. The Phalanx, therefore, was +terrible, the constituent parts of it imbecile; and the Battle of +Cynocephalae finally demonstrated its inferiority, for the various +possible exigencies of battle, to the conquering Legion. The brave +rabble of Gauls and Goths, on the other hand, illustrated all that +private valor, not reposing upon any vaster and more stable strength, +has power to achieve; but these rushing torrents of prowess dashed +themselves into vain spray upon the coordinated and reposing courage of +Rome. + +The same perpetual opposites must concur to produce the proper form and +uses of the State,--though they here appear in a much more elevated +form. Rest is here known as _Law_, motion as _Liberty_. In the true +commonwealth, these, so far from being mutually destructive or +antagonistic, incessantly beget and vivify each other; so that Law +is the expression and guaranty of Freedom, while Freedom flows +spontaneously into the forms of Justice. Neither of these can exist, +neither can be properly _conceived of_, apart from its correlative +opposite. Nor will any condition of mere truce, or of mere mechanical +equilibrium, suffice. Nothing suffices but a reciprocation so active and +total that each is constantly resolving itself into the other. + +The notion of Rousseau, which is countenanced by much of the +phraseology, to say the least, of the present day, was, indeed, quite +contrary to this. He assumed freedom to exist only where law is not, +that is, in the savage state, and to be surrendered, piece for piece, +with every acknowledgment of social obligation. Seldom was ever so +plausible a doctrine equally false. Law is properly _the public +definition of freedom and the affirmation of its sacredness and +inviolability as so defined_; and only in the presence of it, either +express or implicit, does man become free. Duty and privilege are one +and the same, however men may set up a false antagonism between them; +and accordingly social obligation can subtract nothing from the +privilege and prerogative of liberty. Consequently, the freedom which is +defined as the negation of social duty and obligation is not true regal +freedom, but is that worst and basest of all tyrannies, the tyranny of +pure egotism, masked in the semblance of its divine contrary. That, +be it observed, is the freest society, in which the noblest and most +delicate human powers find room and secure respect,--wherein the +loftiest and costliest spiritualities are most invited abroad by +sympathetic attraction. Now among savages little obtains appreciation, +save physical force and its immediate allies: the divine fledglings of +the human soul, instead of being sweetly drawn and tempted forth, are +savagely menaced, rudely repelled; whatsoever is finest in the man, +together with the entire nature of woman, lies, in that low temperature, +enchained and repressed, like seeds in a frozen soil. The harsh, +perpetual contest with want and lawless rivalry, to which all +uncivilized nations are doomed, permits only a few low powers, and those +much the same in all,--lichens, mosses, rude grasses, and other coarse +cryptogamous growths,--to develop themselves; since these alone can +endure the severities of season and treatment to which all that would +clothe the fields of the soul must remain exposed. Meanwhile the utmost +of that wicked and calamitous suppression of faculty, which constitutes +the essence and makes the tragedy of human slavery, is equally effected +by the inevitable isolation and wakeful trampling and consequent +barrenness of savage life. Liberty without law is not liberty; and the +converse may be asserted with like confidence. + +Where, then, the fixed term, State, or Law, and the progressive term, +Person, or Freewill, are in relations of reciprocal support and mutual +reproduction, there alone is freedom, there alone public order. We were +able to command this truth from the height of our general proposition, +and closer inspection shows those anticipations to have been correct. + +But man is greater than men; and for the finest aspect of high laws, we +must look to individual souls, not to masses. + +What is the secret of noble manners? Orbital action, always returning +into and compensating itself. The gentleman, in offering his respect to +others, offers an equal, or rather the same, respect to himself; and his +courtesies may flow without stint or jealous reckoning, because they +feed their source, being not an expenditure, but a circulation. +Submitting to the inward law of honor and the free sense of what befits +a man,--to a law perpetually made and spontaneously executed in his +own bosom, the instant flowering of his own soul,--he commands his own +obedience, and he obeys his own commanding. Though throned above all +nations, a king of kings, yet the faithful humble vassal of his own +heart; though he serve, yet regal, doing imperial service; he escapes +outward constraint by inward anticipation; and all that could he rightly +named as his duty to others, he has, ere demand, already discovered, and +engaged in, as part of his duty to himself. Now it is the expression of +royal freedom in loyal service, of sovereignty in obedience, courage in +concession, and strength in forbearance, which makes manners noble. Low +may he bow, not with loss, but with access of dignity, who bows with an +elevated and ascending heart: there is nothing loftier, nothing less +allied to abject behavior, than this grand lowliness. The worm, because +it is low, cannot be lowly; but man, uplifted in token of supremacy, may +kneel in adoration, bend in courtesy, and stoop in condescension. Only a +great pride, that is, a great and reverential repose in one's own being, +renders possible a noble humility, which is a great and reverential +acknowledgment of the being of others; this humility in turn sustains a +higher self-reverence; this again resolves itself into a more majestic +humility; and so run, in ever enhancing wave, the great circles of +inward honor and outward grace. And without this self-sustaining +return of the action into itself, each quality feeding itself from its +correlative opposite, there can be no high behavior. This is the reason +why qualities loftiest in kind and largest in measure are vulgarly +mistaken, not for their friendly opposites, but for their mere +contraries,--why a very profound sensibility, a sensibility, too, +peculiarly of the spirit, not of nerve only, is sure to be named +coldness, as Mr. Ruskin recently remarks,--why vast wealth of good +pride, in its often meek acceptance of wrong, in its quiet ignoring +of insult, in its silent superiority to provocation, passes with +the superficial and petulant for poverty of pride and mere +mean-spiritedness,--why a courage which is not partial, but _total_, +coexisting, as it always does, with a noble peacefulness, with a noble +inaptness for frivolous hazards, and a noble slowness to take offence, +is, in its delays and forbearances, thought by the half-courageous to +be no better than cowardice;--it is, as we have said, because great +qualities revolve and repose in orbits of reciprocation with their +opposites, which opposites are by coarse and ungentle eyes misdeemed to +be contraries. Feeling transcendently deep and powerful is unimpassioned +and far lower-voiced than indifference and unfeelingness, being wont +to express itself, not by eloquent ebullition, but by extreme +understatement, or even by total silence. Sir Walter Raleigh, when at +length he found himself betrayed to death--and how basely betrayed!--by +Sir Lewis Stukely, only said, "Sir Lewis, these actions will not turn to +your credit." The New Testament tells us of a betrayal yet more quietly +received. These are instances of noble manners. + +What actions are absolutely moral is determined by application of the +same law,--those only which repose wholly in themselves, being to +themselves at once motive and reward. "Miserable is he," says the +"Bhagavad Gita," "whose motive to action lies, not in the action itself, +but in its reward." Duty purchased with covenant of special delights is +not duty, but is the most pointed possible denial of it. The just man +looks not beyond justice; the merciful reposes in acts of mercy; and +he who would be bribed to equity and goodness is not only bad, but +shameless. But of this no further words. + +Rest is sacred, celestial, and the appreciation of it and longing for +it are mingled with the religious sentiment of all nations. I cannot +remember the time when there was not to me a certain ineffable +suggestion in the apostolic words, "There remaineth, therefore, a rest +for the people of God." But the repose of the godlike must, as that of +God himself, be _infinitely_ removed from mere sluggish inactivity; +since the conception of action is the conception of existence +itself,--that is, of Being in the act of self-manifestation. Celestial +rest is found in action so universal, so purely identical with the great +circulations of Nature, that, like the circulation of the blood and the +act of breathing, it is not a subtraction from vital resource, but is, +on the contrary, part of the very fact of life and all its felicities. +This does not exclude rhythmic or recreative rest; but the need of such +rest detracts nothing from pleasure or perfection. In heaven also, if +such figure of speech be allowable, may be that toil which shall render +grateful the cessation from toil, and give sweetness to sleep; but right +weariness has its own peculiar delight, no less than right exercise; +and as the glories of sunset equal those of dawn, so with equal, though +diverse pleasure, should noble and temperate labor take off its sandals +for evening repose, and put them on to go forth "beneath the opening +eyelids of the morn." Yet, allowing a place for this rhythm in the +detail and close inspection even of heavenly life, it still holds true +on the broad scale, that pure beauty and beatitude are found there only +where life and character sweep in orbits of that complete expression +which is at once divine labor and divine repose. + +Observe, now, that this rest-motion, as being without waste or loss, is +a _manifested immortality_, since that which wastes not ends not; and +therefore it puts into every motion the very character and suggestion of +immortal life. Yea, one deed rightly done, and the doer is in heaven, +--is of the company of immortals. One deed so done that in it is _no_ +mortality; and in that deed the meaning of man's history,--the meaning, +indeed, and the glory, of existence itself,--are declared. Easy, +therefore, it is to see how any action may be invested with universal +significance and the utmost conceivable charm. The smaller the realm and +the humbler the act into which this amplitude and universality of spirit +are carried, the more are they emphasized and set off; so that, without +opportunity of unusual occasion, or singular opulence of natural power, +a man's life may possess all that majesty which the imagination pictures +in archangels and in gods. Indeed, it is but simple statement of fact to +say, that he who rests _utterly_ in his action shall belittle not only +whatsoever history has recorded, but all which that poet of poets, +Mankind, has ever dreamed or fabled of grace and greatness. He shall +not peer about with curiosity to spy approbation, or with zeal to defy +censure; he shall not know if there be a spectator in the world; his +most public deed shall be done in a divine privacy, on which no eye +intrudes,--his most private in the boundless publicities of Nature; his +deed, when done, falls away from him, like autumn apples from their +boughs, no longer his, but the world's and destiny's; neither the +captive of yesterday nor the propitiator of to-morrow, he abides simply, +majestically, like a god, in being and doing. Meanwhile, blame and +praise whirl but as unrecognized cloudlets of gloom or glitter beneath +his feet, enveloping and often blinding those who utter them, but to him +never attaining. + +It is not easy at present to suggest the real measure and significance +of such manhood, because this age has debased its imagination, by the +double trick, first, of confounding man with his body, and next, of +considering the body, not as a symbol of truth, but only as an agent in +the domain of matter,--comparing its size with the sum total of physical +space, and its muscular power with the sum total of physical forces. Yet + + "What know we greater than the soul?" + +A man is no outlying province, nor does any province lie beyond him. +East, West, North, South, and height and depth are contained in his +bosom, the poles of his being reaching more widely, his zenith and nadir +being more sublime and more profound. We are cheated by nearness and +intimacy. Let us look at man with a telescope, and we shall find no star +or constellation of sweep so grand, no nebulae or star-dust so provoking +and suggestive to fancy. In truth, there are no words to say how either +large or small, how significant or insignificant, men may be. Though +solar and stellar systems amaze by their grandeur of scale, yet is true +manhood the maximum of Nature; though microscopic and sub-microscopic +protophyta amaze by their inconceivable littleness, yet is mock manhood +Nature's minimum. The latter is the only negative quantity known to +Nature; the former the only revelation of her entire heart. + +In concluding, need I say that only the pure can repose in his +action,--only he obtain deliverance by his deed, and after deliverance +from it? The egotism, the baseness, the partialities that are in our +performance are hooks and barbs by which it wounds and wearies us in the +passage, and clings to us being past. + +Law governs all; no favor is shown; the event is as it must be; only he +who has no blinding partiality toward himself, who is whole and one with +the whole, he who is Nature and Law and divine Necessity, can be blest +with that blessedness which Nature is able to give only by her presence. +There is a labor and a rest that are the same, one fact, one felicity; +in this are power, beauty, immortality; by existence as a whole it is +always perfectly exemplified; to man, as the eye of existence, it is +also possible; but it is possible to him only as he is purely man,--only +as he abandons himself to the divine principles of his life: in other +words, this Sabbath remaineth in very deed to no other than the people +of God. + + * * * * * + + +LIGHTS OF THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT. + + +At the opening of the present century, the Lake District of Cumberland +and Westmoreland was groaned over by some residents as fast losing its +simplicity. The poet Gray had been the first to describe its natural +features in an express manner; and his account of the views above +Keswick and Grasmere was quoted, sixty years since, as evidence of +the spoiling process which had gone on since the introduction of +civilization from the South. Gray remarked on the absence of red roofs, +gentlemen's houses, and garden-walls, and on the uniform character of +the humble farmsteads and gray cottages under their sycamores in the +vales. Wordsworth heard and spoke a good deal of the innovations which +had modified the scene in the course of the thirty years which elapsed +between Gray's visits (in 1767-69) and his own settlement in the Lake +District; but he lived to say more, at the end of half a century, of the +wider and deeper changes which time had wrought in the aspect of the +country and the minds and manners of the people. According to his +testimony, and that of Southey, the barbarism was of a somewhat gross +character at the end of the last century; the magistrates were careless +of the condition of the society in which they bore authority; the clergy +were idle or worse,--"marrying and burying machines," as Southey told +Wilberforce; and the morality of the people, such as it was, was +ascribed by Wordsworth, in those his days of liberalism in politics, to +the state of republican equality in which they lived. Excellent, fussy +Mr. Wilberforce thought, when he came for some weeks into the District, +that the Devil had had quite time enough for sowing tares while the +clergy were asleep; so he set to work to sow a better seed; and we find +in his diary that he went into house after house "to talk religion to +the people." I do not know how he was received; but at this day the +people are puzzled at that kind of domestic intervention, so unsuitable +to their old-fashioned manners,--one old dame telling with wonder, some +little time since, that a young lady had called and sung a hymn to +her, but had given her nothing at the end for listening. The rough +independence of the popular manners even now offends persons of a +conventional habit of mind; and when poets and philosophers first came +from southern parts to live here, the democratic tone of feeling and +behavior was more striking than it is now or will ever be again. + +Before the Lake poets began to give the public an interest in the +District, some glimpses of it were opened by the well-known literary +ladies of the last century who grouped themselves round their young +favorite, Elizabeth Smith. I do not know whether her name and fame have +reached America; but in my young days she was the English school-girls' +subject of admiration and emulation. She had marvellous powers of +acquisition, and she translated the Book of Job, and a good deal from +the German,--introducing Klopstock to us at a time when we hardly knew +the most conspicuous names in German literature. Elizabeth Smith was an +accomplished girl in all ways. There is a damp, musty-looking house, +with small windows and low ceilings, at Coniston, where she lived with +her parents and sister, for some years before her death. We know, from +Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton's and the Bowdlers' letters, how Elizabeth and +her sister lived in the beauty about them, rambling, sketching, and +rowing their guests on the lake. In one of her rambles, Elizabeth sat +too long under a heavy dew. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, which +never left her, and died in rapid decline. Towards the last she was +carried out daily from the close and narrow rooms at home, and laid in a +tent pitched in a field just across the road, whence she could overlook +the lake, and the range of mountains about its head. On that spot now +stands Tent Lodge, the residence of Tennyson and his bride after their +marriage. One of my neighbors, who first saw the Lake District in early +childhood, has a solemn remembrance of the first impression. The tolling +of the bell of Hawkeshead church was heard from afar; and it was tolling +for the funeral of Elizabeth Smith. Her portrait is before me now,--the +ingenuous, child-like face, with the large dark eyes which alone show +that it is not the portrait of a child. It was through her that a large +proportion of the last generation of readers first had any definite +associations with Coniston. + +Wordsworth had, however, been in that church many a time, above twenty +years before, when at Hawkeshead school. He used to tell that his mother +had praised him for going into the church, one week-day, to see a woman +do penance in a white sheet. She considered it good for his morals. But +when he declared himself disappointed that nobody had given him a penny +for his attendance, as he had somehow expected, his mother told him he +was served right for going to church from such an inducement. He spoke +with gratitude of an usher at that school, who put him in the way +of learning the Latin, which had been a sore trouble at his native +Cockermouth, from unskilful teaching. Our interest in him at that +school, however, is from his having there first conceived the idea of +writing verse. His master set the boys, as a task, to write a poetical +theme,--"The Summer Vacation"; and Master William chose to add to it +"The Return to School." He was then fourteen; and he was to be double +that age before he returned to the District and took up his abode there. + +He had meantime gone through his college course, as described in his +Memoirs, and undergone strange conditions of opinion and feeling in +Paris during the Revolution; had lived in Dorsetshire, with his faithful +sister; had there first seen Coleridge, and had been so impressed by the +mind and discourse of that wonderful young philosopher as to remove to +Somersetshire to be near him; had seen Klopstock in Germany, and lived +there for a time; and had passed through other changes of residence and +places, when we find him again among the Lakes in 1779, still with his +sister by his side, and their brother John, and Coleridge, who had never +been in the District before. + +As they stood on the margin of Grasmere, the scene was more like what +Gray saw than what is seen at this day. The churchyard was bare of the +yews which now distinguish it,--for Sir George Beaumont had them planted +at a later time; and where the group of kindred and friends--the +Wordsworths and their relatives--now lie, the turf was level and +untouched. The iron rails and indefensible monuments, which Wordsworth +so reprobated half a century later, did not exist. The villas which stud +the slopes, the great inns which bring a great public, were uncreated; +and there was only the old Roman road where the Wishing-Gate is, or the +short cut by the quarries to arrive by from the South, instead of the +fine mail-road which now winds between the hills and the margin of +the lake. John Wordsworth guided his brother and Coleridge through +Grisedale, over a spur of Helvellyn, to see Ullswater; and Coleridge has +left a characteristic testimony of the effect of the scenery upon him. +It was "a day when light and darkness coexisted in contiguous masses, +and the earth and sky were but one. Nature lived for us in all her +wildest accidents." He tells how his eyes were dim with tears, and +how imagination and reality blended their objects and impressions. +Wordsworth's account of the same excursion is in as admirable contrast +with Coleridge's as their whole mode of life and expression was, from +first to last. With the carelessness of the popular mind in such cases, +the British public had already almost confounded the two men and their +works, as it soon after mixed up Southey with both; whereas they were +all as unlike each other as any three poets could well be. + +Coleridge and Wordsworth were both contemplative, it is true, while +Southey was not: but the remarkable thing about Coleridge was the +exclusiveness of his contemplative tendencies, by which one set of +faculties ran riot in his mind and life, making havoc among his powers, +and a dismal wreck of his existence. The charm and marvel of his +discourse upset all judgments during his life, and for as long as his +voice remained in the ear of his enchanted hearers; but, apart from the +spell, it is clear to all sober and trained thinkers that Coleridge +wandered away from truth and reality in the midst of his vaticinations, +as the _clairvoyant_ does in the midst of his previsions, so as to +mislead and bewilder, while inspiring and intoxicating the hearer or +reader. He recorded, in regard to himself, that "history and particular +facts lost all interest" in his mind after his first launch into +metaphysics; and he remained through life incapable of discerning +reality from inborn images. Wordsworth took alarm at the first +experience of such a tendency in himself, and relates that he used to +catch at the trees and palings by the roadside to satisfy himself of +existences out of himself; but Coleridge encouraged this subjective +exclusiveness, to the destruction of the balance of his mind and the +_morale_ of his nature. He was himself a wild poem; and he discoursed +wild poems to us,--musical romances from Dreamland; but the luxury to +himself and us was bought by injury to others which was altogether +irreparable, and pardonable only on the ground that the balance of his +mind was destroyed by a fatal intellectual, in addition to physical +intemperance. In him we see an extreme case of a life of contemplation +uncontrolled by will and unchecked by action. His faculty of will +perished, and his prerogative of action died out. His contemplations +must necessarily be worth just so much the less to us as his mental +structure was deformed,--extravagantly developed in one direction, and +dwarfed in another. + +The singularity in Wordsworth's case, on the other hand, is that his +contemplative tendencies not only coexisted with, but were implicated +with, the most precise and vivid apprehension of small realities. There +was no proportion in his mind; and vaticination and twaddle rolled +off his eloquent tongue as chance would have it. At one time he would +discourse like a seer, on the slightest instigation, by the hour +together; and next, he would hold forth with equal solemnity, on the +pettiest matter of domestic economy. I have known him take up some +casual notice of a "beck" (brook) in the neighborhood, and discourse +of brooks for two hours, till his hearers felt as if they were by the +rivers of waters in heaven; and next, he would talk on and on, till +stopped by some accident, on his doubt whether Mrs. Wordsworth gave a +penny apiece or a half-penny apiece for trapped mice to a little girl +who had undertaken to clear the house of them. It has been common to +regret that he held the office of Stamp-Distributor in the District; but +it was probably a great benefit to his mind as well as his fortunes. It +was something that it gave him security and ease as to the maintenance +of his family; but that is less important than its necessitating a +certain amount of absence from home, and intercourse with men on +business. He was no reader in mature life; and the concentration of his +mind on his own views, and his own genius, and the interests of his home +and neighborhood, caused some foibles, as it was; and it might have been +almost fatal, but for some office which allowed him to gratify his love +of out-door life at the same time that it led him into intercourse +with men in another capacity than as listeners to himself, or peasants +engrossed in their own small concerns. + +Southey was not contemplative or speculative, and it could only have +been because he lived at the Lakes and was Coleridge's brother-in-law +that he was implicated with the two speculative poets at all. It has +been carelessly reported by Lake tourists that Southey was not beloved +among his neighbors, while Wordsworth was; and that therefore the latter +was the better man, in a social sense. It should be remembered that +Southey was a working man, and that the other two were not; and, +moreover, it should never be for a moment forgotten that Southey worked +double-tides to make up for Coleridge's idleness. While Coleridge was +dreaming and discoursing, Southey was toiling to maintain Coleridge's +wife and children. He had no time and no attention to spare for +wandering about and making himself at home with the neighbors. This +practice came naturally to Wordsworth; and a kind and valued neighbor he +was to all the peasants round. Many a time I have seen him in the road, +in Scotch bonnet and green spectacles, with a dozen children at his +heels and holding his cloak, while he cut ash-sticks for them from the +hedge, hearing all they had to say or talking to them. Southey, on the +other hand, took his constitutional walk at a fixed hour, often reading +as he went. Two families depended on him; and his duty of daily labor +was not only distinctive, but exclusive. He was always at work at home, +while Coleridge was doing nothing but talking, and Wordsworth was +abroad, without thinking whether he was at work or play. Seen from the +stand-point of conscience and of moral generosity, Southey's was the +noblest life of the three; and Coleridge's was, of course, nought. +I own, however, that, considering the tendency of the time to make +literature a trade, or at least a profession, I cannot help feeling +Wordsworth's to have been the most privileged life of them all. He had +not work enough to do; and his mode of life encouraged an excess of +egoism: but he bore all the necessary retribution of this in his latter +years; and the whole career leaves an impression of an airy freedom and +a natural course of contemplation, combined with social interest and +action, more healthy than the existence of either the delinquent or the +exemplary comrade with whom he was associated in the public view. + +I have left my neighbors waiting long on the margin of Grasmere. That +was before I was born; but I could almost fancy I had seen them there. + +I observed that Wordsworth's report of their trip was very unlike +Coleridge's. When his sister had left them, he wrote to her, describing +scenes by brief precise touches which draw the picture that Coleridge +blurs with grand phrases. Moreover, Wordsworth tells sister Dorothy that +John will give him forty pounds to buy a bit of land by the lake, where +they may build a cottage to live in henceforth. He says, also, that +there is a small house vacant near the spot.--They took that house; +and thus the Wordsworths became "Lakers." They entered that well-known +cottage at Grasmere on the shortest day (St. Thomas's) of 1799. Many +years afterwards, Dorothy wrote of the aspect of Grasmere on her arrival +that winter evening,--the pale orange lights on the lake, and the +reflection of the mountains and the island in the still waters. She +had wandered about the world in an unsettled way; and now she had cast +anchor for life,--not in that house, but within view of that valley. + +All readers of Wordsworth, on either side the Atlantic, believe +that they know that cottage, (described in the fifth book of the +"Excursion,") with its little orchard, and the moss house, and the +tiny terrace behind, with its fine view of the lake and the basin of +mountains. There the brother and sister lived for some years in a very +humble way, making their feast of the beauty about them. Wordsworth was +fond of telling how they had meat only two or three times a week; and he +was eager to impress on new-comers--on me among others--the prudence of +warning visitors that they must make up their minds to the scantiest +fare. He was as emphatic about this, laying his finger on one's arm to +enforce it, as about catching mice or educating the people. It was vain +to say that one would rather not invite guests than fail to provide for +them; he insisted that the expense would be awful, and assumed that his +sister's and his own example settled the matter. I suppose they were +poor in those days; but it was not for long. A devoted sister Dorothy +was. Too late it appeared that she had sacrificed herself to aid and +indulge her brother. When her mind was gone, and she was dying by +inches, Mrs. Wordsworth offered me the serious warning that she gave +whenever occasion allowed, against overwalking. She told me that Dorothy +had, not occasionally only, but often, walked forty miles in a day to +give her brother her presence. To repair the ravages thus caused she +took opium; and the effect on her exhausted frame was to overthrow her +mind. This was when she was elderly. For a long course of years, she +was a rich household blessing to all connected with her. She shared her +brother's peculiarity of investing trifles with solemnity, or rather, +of treating all occasions alike (at least in writing) with pedantic +elaboration; but she had the true poet's, combined with the true woman's +nature; and the fortunate man had, in wife and sister, the two best +friends of his life. + +The Wordsworths were the originals of the Lake _coterie,_ as we have +seen. Born at Cockermouth, and a pupil at the Hawkeshead school, +Wordsworth was looking homewards when he settled in the District. The +others came in consequence. Coleridge brought his family to Greta Hall, +near Keswick; and with them came Mrs. Lovell, one of the three Misses +Fricker, of whom Coleridge and Southey had married two. Southey was +invited to visit Greta Hall, the year after the Wordsworths settled at +Grasmere; and thus they became acquainted. They had just met before, in +the South; but they had yet to learn to know each other; and there was +sufficient unlikeness between them to render this a work of some time +and pains. It was not long before Southey, instead of Coleridge, was +the lessee of Greta Hall; and soon after Coleridge took his departure, +leaving his wife and children, and also the Lovells, a charge upon +Southey, who had no more fortune than Coleridge, except in the +inexhaustible wealth of a heart, a will, and a conscience. Wordsworth +married in 1802; and then the two poets passed through their share of +the experience of human life, a few miles apart, meeting occasionally on +some mountain ridge or hidden dale, and in one another's houses, drawn +closer by their common joys and sorrows, but never approximating in +the quality of their genius, or in the stand-points from which they +respectively looked out upon human affairs. They had children, loved +them, and each lost some of them; and they felt tenderly for each other +when each little grave was opened. Southey, the most amiable of men in +domestic life, gentle, generous, serene, and playful, grew absolutely +ferocious about politics, as his articles in the "Quarterly Review" +showed all the world. Wordsworth, who had some of the irritability and +pettishness, mildly described by himself as "gentle stirrings of the +mind," which occasionally render great men ludicrously like children, +and who was, moreover, highly conservative after his early democratic +fever had passed off, grew more and more liberal with advancing years. +I do not mean that he verged towards the Reformers,--but that he became +more enlarged, tolerant, and generally sympathetic in his political +views and temper. It thus happened that society at a distance took up +a wholly wrong impression of the two men,--supposing Southey to be an +ill-conditioned bigot, and Wordsworth a serene philosopher, far above +being disturbed by troubles in daily life, or paying any attention to +party-politics. He showed some of his ever-growing liberality, by the +way, in speaking of this matter of temper. In old age, he said that the +world certainly does get on in minor morals: that when he was young +"everybody had a temper"; whereas now no such thing is allowed; +amiability is the rule; and an imperfect temper is an offence and a +misfortune of a distinctive character. + +Among the letters which now and then arrived from strangers, in the +early days of Wordsworth's fame, was one which might have come from +Coleridge, if they had never met. It was full of admiration and +sympathy, expressed as such feelings would be by a man whose analytical +and speculative faculties predominated over all the rest. The writer +was, indeed, in those days, marvellously like Coleridge,--subtile in +analysis to excess, of gorgeous imagination, bewitching discourse, fine +scholarship, with a magnificent power of promising and utter incapacity +in performing, and with the same habit of intemperance in opium. By +his own account, his "disease was to meditate too much and observe too +little." I need hardly explain that this was De Quincey; and when I have +said that, I need hardly explain further that advancing time and closer +acquaintance made the likeness to Coleridge bear a smaller and smaller +proportion to the whole character of the man. + +In return for his letter of admiration and sympathy, he received an +invitation to the Grasmere valley. More than once he set forth to avail +himself of it; but when within a few miles, the shyness under which in +those days he suffered overpowered his purpose, and he turned back. +After having achieved the meeting, however, he soon announced his +intention of settling in the valley; and he did so, putting his wife +and children eventually into the cottage which the Wordsworths had now +outgrown and left. There was little in him to interest or attach a +family of regular domestic habits, like the Wordsworths, given to active +employment, sensible thrift, and neighborly sympathy. It was universally +known that a great poem of Wordsworth's was reserved for posthumous +publication, and kept under lock and key meantime. De Quincey had so +remarkable a memory that he carried off by means of it the finest +passage of the poem,--or that which the author considered so; and +he published that passage in a magazine article, in which he gave +a detailed account of the Wordsworths' household, connections, and +friends, with an analysis of their characters and an exhibition of their +faults. This was in 1838, a dozen years before the poet's death. The +point of interest is,--How did the wronged family endure the wrong? They +were quiet about it,--that is, sensible and dignified; but Wordsworth +was more. A friend of his and mine was talking with him over the fire, +just when De Quincey's disclosures were making the most noise, and +mentioned the subject. Wordsworth begged to be spared hearing anything +about them, saying that the man had long passed away from the family +life and mind, and he did not wish to disturb himself about what could +not be remedied. My friend acquiesced, saying, "Well, I will tell you +only one thing that he says, and then we will talk of something else. He +says your wife is too good for you." The old man's dim eyes lighted up +instantly, and he started from his seat, and flung himself against +the mantel-piece, with his back to the fire, as he cried with loud +enthusiasm, "And that's _true! There_ he is right!" + +It was by his written disclosures only that De Quincey could do much +mischief; for it was scarcely possible to be prejudiced by anything he +could say. The whole man was grotesque; and it must have been a singular +image that his neighbors in the valley preserved in their memory. A +frail-looking, diminutive man, with narrow chest and round shoulders and +features like those of a dying patient, walking with his hands behind +him, his hat on the back of his head, and his broad lower lip projected, +as if he had something on his tongue that wanted listening to,--such was +his aspect; and if one joined company with him, the strangeness grew +from moment to moment. His voice and its modulations were a perfect +treat. As for what he had to say, it was everything from odd comment on +a passing trifle, eloquent enunciation of some truth, or pregnant +remark on some lofty subject, down to petty gossip, so delivered as to +authorize a doubt whether it might not possibly be an awkward effort +at observing something outside of himself, or at getting a grasp of +something that he supposed actual. That he should have so supposed was +his weakness, and the retribution for the peculiar intemperance which +depraved his nature and alienated from their proper use powers which +should have made him one of the first philosophers of his age. His +singular organization was fatally deranged in its action before it could +show its best quality, and his is one of the cases in which we cannot be +wrong in attributing moral disease directly to physical disturbance; and +it would no doubt have been dropped out of notice, if he had been able +to abstain from comment on the characters and lives of other people. +Justice to them compels us to accept and use the exposures he offers us +of himself. + +About the time of De Quincey's settlement at Grasmere, Wilson, the +future CHRISTOPHER NORTH, bought the Elleray estate, on the banks of +Windermere. He was then just of age,--supreme in all manly sports, +physically a model man, and intellectually, brimming with philosophy and +poetry. He came hither a rather spoiled child of fortune, perhaps; but +he was soon sobered by a loss of property which sent him to his studies +for the bar. Scott was an excellent friend to him at that time; and so +strong and prophetic was Wilson's admiration of his patron, that he +publicly gave him the name of "The Great Magician" before the first +"Waverley Novel" was published. Within ten years from his getting a +foothold on Windermere banks, he had raised periodical literature to a +height unknown before in our time, by his contributions to "Blackwood's +Magazine"; and he seemed to step naturally into the Moral Philosophy +Chair in Edinburgh in 1820. Christopher North has perhaps conveyed to +foreign, and untravelled English, readers as true a conception of our +Lake scenery and its influences in one way as Wordsworth in another. +The very spirit of the moorland, lake, brook, tarn, ghyll, and ridge +breathes from his prose poetry: and well it might. He wandered alone for +a week together beside the trout-streams and among the highest tarns. He +spent whole days in his boat, coasting the bays of the lake, or floating +in the centre, or lying reading in the shade of the trees on the +islands. He led with a glorious pride the famous regatta on Windermere, +when Canning was the guest of the Boltons at Storrs, and when Scott, +Wordsworth, and Southey were of the company; and he liked almost as well +steering the packet-boat from Waterhead to Bowness, till the steamer +drove out the old-fashioned conveyance. He sat at the stern, +immovable, with his hand on the rudder, looking beyond the company of +journeymen-carpenters, fish- and butter-women, and tourists, with a +gaze on the water-and-sky-line which never shifted. Sometimes a learned +professor or a brother sportsman was with him; but he spoke no word, and +kept his mouth peremptorily shut under his beard. It was a sight worth +taking the voyage for; and it was worth going a long round to see him +standing on the shore,--"reminding one of the first man, Adam," (as was +said of him,) in his best estate,--the tall, broad frame, large head, +marked features, and long hair; and the tread which shook the ground, +and the voice which roused the echoes afar and made one's heart-strings +vibrate within. These attributes made strangers turn to look at him on +the road, and fixed all eyes on him in the ball-room at Ambleside, when +any local object induced him to be a steward. Every old boatman and +young angler, every hoary shepherd and primitive housewife in the +uplands and dales, had an enthusiasm for him. He could enter into the +solemnity of speculation with Wordsworth while floating at sunset on the +lake; and not the less gamesomely could he collect a set of good fellows +under the lamp at his supper-table, and take off Wordsworth's or +Coleridge's monologues to the life. There was that between them which +must always have precluded a close sympathy; and their faults were just +what each could least allow for in another. Of Wilson's it is enough to +say that Scott's injunction to him to "leave off sack, purge, and live +cleanly," if he wished for the Moral Philosophy Chair, was precisely +what was needed. It was still needed some time after, when, though a +Professor of Moral Philosophy, he was seen, with poor Campbell, leaving +a tavern one morning, in Edinburgh, haggard and red-eyed, hoarse and +exhausted,--not only the feeble Campbell, but the mighty Wilson,--they +having sat together twenty-four hours, discussing poetry and wine with +all their united energies. This sort of thing was not to the taste of +Wordsworth or Southey, any more than their special complacencies were +venerable to the humor of Christopher North. Yet they could cordially +admire one another; and when sorrows came over them, in dreary +impartiality, they could feel reverently and deeply for each other. When +Southey lost his idolized boy, Herbert, and had to watch over his insane +wife, always his dearest friend, and all the dearer for her helpless +and patient suffering under an impenetrable gloom,--when Wordsworth was +bereaved of the daughter who made the brightness of his life in his old +age,--and when Wilson was shaken to the centre by the loss of his wife, +and mourned alone in the damp shades of Elleray, where he would allow +not a twig to be cut from the trees she loved,--the sorrow of each moved +them all. Elleray was a gloomy place then, and Wilson never surmounted +the melancholy which beset him there; and he wisely parted with it +some years before his death. The later depression in his case was in +proportion to the earlier exhilaration. His love of Nature and of genial +human intercourse had been too exuberant; and he became incapable of +enjoyment from either, in his last years. He never recovered from an +attack of pressure on the brain, and died paralyzed in the spring of +1854. He had before gone from among us with his joy; and then we heard +that he had dropped out of life with his griefs; and our beautiful +region, and the region of life, were so much the darker in a thousand +eyes. + +While speaking of Elleray, we should pay a passing tribute of gratitude +to an older worthy of that neighborhood,--the well-known Bishop of +Llandaff, Richard Watson, who did more for the beauty of Windermere than +any other person. There is nothing to praise in the damp old mansion +at Calgarth, set down in low ground, and actually with its back to the +lake, and its front windows commanding no view; but the woods are the +glory of Bishop Watson. He was not a happy prelate, believing himself +undervalued and neglected, and fretting his heart over his want of +promotion; but be must have had many a blessed hour while planting +those woods for which many generations will be grateful to him. Let +the traveller remember him, when looking abroad from Miller Brow, near +Bowness. Below lies the whole length of Windermere, from the white +houses of Clappersgate, nestling under Loughrigg at the head, to the +Beacon at the foot. The whole range of both shores, with their bays +and coves and promontories, can be traced; and the green islands are +clustered in the centre; and the whole gradation of edifices is seen, +from Wray Castle, on its rising ground, to the tiny boat-houses, each +on its creek. All these features are enhanced in beauty by the Calgarth +woods, which cover the undulations of hill and margin beneath and +around, rising and falling, spreading and contracting, with green +meadows interposed, down to the white pebbly strand. To my eye, this +view is unsurpassed by any in the District. + +Bishop Watson's two daughters were living in the neighborhood till two +years ago,--antique spinsters, presenting us with a most vivid specimen +of the literary female life of the last century. They were excellent +women, differing from the rest of society chiefly in their notion that +superior people should show their superiority in all the acts of their +lives,--that literary people should talk literature, and scientific +people science, and so on; and they felt affronted, as if set down among +common people, when an author talked about common things in a common +way. They did their best to treat their friends to wit and polite +letters; and they expected to be ministered to in the same fashion. This +was rather embarrassing to visitors to whom it had never occurred to +talk for any other purpose than to say what presented itself at the +moment; but it is a privilege to have known those faithful sisters, and +to have seen in them a good specimen of the literary society of the last +century. + +There is another spot in that neighborhood which strangers look up to +with interest from the lake itself,--Dovenest, the abode of Mrs. Hemans +for the short time of her residence at the Lakes. She saw it for the +first time from the lake, as her published correspondence tells, and +fell in love with it; and as it was vacant at the time, she went into it +at once. Many of my readers will remember her description of the garden +and the view from it, the terrace, the circular grass-plot with its one +tall white rose-tree. "You cannot imagine," she wrote, in 1830, "how I +delight in that fair, solitary, neglected-looking tree." The tree is not +neglected now. Dovenest is inhabited by Mrs. Hemans's then young friend, +the Rev. R.P. Graves; and it has recovered from the wildness and +desolation of thirty years ago, while looking as secluded as ever among +the woods on the side of Wansfell. + +All this time, illustrious strangers were coming, year by year, to visit +residents, or to live among the mountains for a few weeks. There was +Wilberforce, spending part of a summer at Rayrigg, on the lake shore. +One of his boys asked him, "Why should you not buy a house here? and +then we could come every year." The reply was characteristic:--that it +would be very delightful; but that the world is lying, in a manner, +under the curse of God; that we have something else to do than to enjoy +fine prospects; and that, though it may be allowable to taste the +pleasure now and then, we ought to wait till the other life to enjoy +ourselves. Such was the strait-lacing in which the good man was forever +trying to compress his genial, buoyant, and grateful nature.--Scott came +again and again; and Wordsworth and Southey met to do him honor. The +tourist must remember the Swan Inn,--the white house beyond Grasmere, +under the skirts of Helvellyn. There Scott went daily for a glass of +something good, while Wordsworth's guest, and treated with the homely +fare of the Grasmere cottage. One morning, his host, himself, and +Southey went up to the Swan, to start thence with ponies for the ascent +of Helvellyn. The innkeeper saw them coming, and accosted Scott with +"Eh, Sir! ye're come early for your draught to-day!"--a disclosure which +was not likely to embarrass his host at all. Wordsworth was probably the +least-discomposed member of the party.--Charles Lamb and his sister once +popped in unannounced on Coleridge at Keswick, and spent three weeks in +the neighborhood. We can all fancy the little man on the top of Skiddaw, +with his mind full as usual of quips and pranks, and struggling with the +emotions of mountain-land, so new and strange to a Cockney, such as he +truly described himself. His loving readers do not forget his statement +of the comparative charms of Skiddaw and Fleet Street; and on the spot +we quote his exclamations about the peak, and the keen air there, and +the look over into Scotland, and down upon a sea of mountains which made +him giddy. We are glad he came and enjoyed a day, which, as he said, +would stand out like a mountain in his life; but we feel that he could +never have followed his friends hither,--Coleridge and Wordsworth,--and +have made himself at home. The warmth of a city and the hum of human +voices all day long were necessary to his spirits. As to his passage at +arms with Southey,--everybody's sympathies are with Lamb; and he +only vexes us by his humility and gratitude at being pardoned by the +aggressor, whom he had in fact humiliated in all eyes but his own. It +was one of Southey's spurts of insolent bigotry; and Lamb's plea for +tolerance and fair play was so sound as to make it a poor affectation in +Southey to assume a pardoning air; but, if Lamb's kindly and sensitive +nature could not sustain him in so virtuous an opposition, it is well +that the two men did not meet on the top of Skiddaw.--Canning's visit to +Storrs, on Windermere, was a great event in its day; and Lockhart tells +us, in his "Life of Scott," what the regatta was like, when Wilson +played Admiral, and the group of local poets, and Scott, were in the +train of the statesman. Since that day, it has been a common thing for +illustrious persons to appear in our valleys. Statesmen, churchmen, +university-men, princes, peers, bishops, authors, artists, flock hither; +and during the latter years of Wordsworth's life, the average number +of strangers who called at Rydal Mount in the course of the season was +eight hundred. + +During the growth of the District from its wildness to this thronged +state, a minor light of the region was kindling, flickering, failing, +gleaming, and at last going out,--anxiously watched and tended, but to +little purpose. The life of Hartley Coleridge has been published by his +family; and there can, therefore, be no scruple in speaking of him here. +The remembrance of him haunts us all,--almost as his ghost haunts his +kind landlady. Long after his death, she used to "hear him at night +laughing in his room," as he used to do when he lived there. A peculiar +laugh it was, which broke out when fancies crossed him, whether he was +alone or in company. Travellers used to look after him on the road, and +guides and drivers were always willing to tell about him; and still +his old friends almost expect to see Hartley at any turn,--the little +figure, with the round face, marked by the blackest eyebrows and +eyelashes, and by a smile and expression of great eccentricity. As we +passed, he would make a full stop in the road, face about, take off his +black-and-white straw hat, and bow down to the ground. The first glance +in return was always to see whether he was sober. The Hutchinsons must +remember him. He was one of the audience, when they held their concert +under the sycamores in Mr. Harrison's grounds at Ambleside; and he +thereupon wrote a sonnet,[A] doubtless well known in America. When I +wanted his leave to publish that sonnet, in an account of "Frolics with +the Hutchinsons," it was necessary to hunt him up, from public-house +to public-house, early in the morning. It is because these things are +universally known,--because he was seen staggering in the road, and +spoken of by drivers and lax artisans as an alehouse comrade, that I +speak of him here, in order that I may testify how he was beloved and +cherished by the best people in his neighborhood. I can hardly speak +of him myself as a personal acquaintance; for I could not venture on +inviting him to my house. I saw what it was to others to be subject to +day-long visits from him, when he would ask for wine, and talk from +morning to night,--and a woman, solitary and busy, could not undertake +that sort of hospitality; but I saw how forbearing his friends were, and +why,--and I could sympathize in their regrets when he died. I met him +in company occasionally, and never saw him sober; but I have heard from +several common friends of the charm of his conversation, and the beauty +of his gentle and affectionate nature. He was brought into the District +when four years old; and it does not appear that he ever had a chance +allowed him of growing into a sane man. Wordsworth used to say that +Hartley's life's failure arose mainly from his having grown up "wild +as the breeze,"--delivered over, without help or guardianship, to the +vagaries of an imagination which overwhelmed all the rest of him. There +was a strong constitutional likeness to his father, evident enough to +all; but no pains seem to have been taken on any hand to guard him from +the snare, or to invigorate his will, and aid him in self-discipline. +The great catastrophe, the ruinous blow, which rendered him hopeless, is +told in the Memoir; but there are particulars which help to account for +it. Hartley had spent his school-days under a master as eccentric as he +himself ever became. The Rev. John Dawes of Ambleside was one of the +oddities that may be found in the remote places of modern England. He +had no idea of restraint, for himself or his pupils; and when they +arrived, punctually or not, for morning school, they sometimes found the +door shut, and chalked with "Gone a-hunting," or "Gone a-fishing," or +gone away somewhere or other. Then Hartley would sit down under the +bridge, or in the shadow of the wood, or lie on the grass on the +hill-side, and tell tales to his schoolfellows for hours. His mind was +developed by the conversation of his father and his father's friends; +and he himself had a great friendship with Professor Wilson, who always +stood by him with a pitying love. He had this kind of discursive +education, but no discipline; and when he went to college, he was at the +mercy of any who courted his affection, intoxicated his imagination, and +then led him into vice. His Memoir shows how he lost his fellowship at +Oriel College, Oxford, at the end of his probationary year. He had been +warned by the authorities against his sin of intemperance; and he bent +his whole soul to get through that probationary year. For eleven months, +and many days of the twelfth, he lived soberly and studied well. Then +the old tempters agreed in London to go down to Oxford and get hold of +Hartley. They went down on the top of the coach, got access to his room, +made him drunk, and carried him with them to London; and he was not to +be found when he should have passed. The story of his death is but too +like this. + +[Footnote A: + +SONNET + +TO TENNYSON, AFTER HEARING ABBY HUTCHINSON SING "THE MAY-QUEEN" AT +AMBLESIDE. + + I would, my friend, indeed, thou hadst been + here + Last night, beneath the shadowy sycamore, + To hear the lines, to me well known before, + Embalmed in music so translucent clear. + Each word of thine came singly to the ear, + Yet all was blended in a flowing stream. + It had the rich repose of summer dream, + The light distinct of frosty atmosphere. + Still have I loved thy verse, yet never knew + How sweet it was, till woman's voice invested + The pencilled outline with the living hue, + And every note of feeling proved and tested. + What might old Pindar be, if once again + The harp and voice were trembling with his + strain! +] + +His fellowship lost, he came, ruinously humbled, to live in this +District, at first under compulsion to take pupils, whom, of course, he +could not manage. On the death of his mother, an annuity was purchased +for him, and paid quarterly, to keep him out of debt, if possible. He +could not take care of money, and he was often hungry, and often begged +the loan of a sixpence; and when the publicans made him welcome to what +he pleased to have, in consideration of the company he brought together, +to hear his wonderful talk, his wit, and his dreams, he was helpless in +the snare. We must remember that he was a fine scholar, as well as a +dreamer and a humorist; and there was no order of intellect, from the +sage to the peasant, which could resist the charm of his discourse. He +had taken his degree with high distinction at Oxford; and yet the old +Westmoreland "statesman," who, offered whiskey and water, accepts the +one and says the other can be had anywhere, would sit long to hear what +Hartley had to tell of what he had seen or dreamed. At gentlemen's +tables, it was a chance how he might talk,--sublimely, sweetly, or with +a want of tact which made sad confusion. In the midst of the great +black-frost at the close of 1848, he was at a small dinner-party at +the house of a widow lady, about four miles from his lodgings. During +dinner, some scandal was talked about some friends of his to whom he +was warmly attached. He became excited on their behalf,--took Champagne +before he had eaten enough, and, before the ladies left the table, was +no longer master of himself. His host, a very young man, permitted some +practical joking: brandy was ordered, and given to the unconscious +Hartley; and by eleven o'clock he was clearly unfit to walk home alone. +His hostess sent her footman with him, to see him home. The man took him +through Ambleside, and then left him to find his way for the other two +miles. The cold was as severe as any ever known in this climate; and it +was six in the morning when his landlady heard some noise in the porch, +and found Hartley stumbling in. She put him to bed, put hot bricks to +his feet, and tried all the proper means; and in the middle of the day +he insisted on getting up and going out. He called at the house of a +friend, Dr. S----, near Ambleside. The kind physician scolded him for +coming out, sent for a carriage, took him home, and put him to bed. He +never rose again, but died on the 6th of January, 1849. The young host +and the old hostess have followed him, after deeply deploring that +unhappy day. + +It was sweet, as well as sorrowful, to see how he was mourned. +Everybody, from his old landlady, who cared for him like a mother, to +the infant-school children, missed Hartley Coleridge. I went to his +funeral at Grasmere. The rapid Rotha rippled and dashed over the stones +beside the churchyard; the yews rose dark from the faded grass of the +graves; and in mighty contrast to both, Helvellyn stood, in wintry +silence, and sheeted with spotless snow. Among the mourners Wordsworth +was conspicuous, with his white hair and patriarchal aspect. He had +no cause for painful emotions on his own account; for he had been a +faithful friend to the doomed victim who was now beyond the reach of his +tempters. While there was any hope that stern remonstrance might rouse +the feeble will and strengthen the suffering conscience to relieve +itself, such remonstrance was pressed; and when the case was past hope, +Wordsworth's door was ever open to his old friend's son. Wordsworth +could stand by that open grave without a misgiving about his own share +in the scene which was here closing; and calm and simply grave he +looked. He might mourn over the life; but he could scarcely grieve at +the death. The grave was close behind the family group of the Wordsworth +tombs. It shows, above the name and dates, a sculptured crown of thorns +and Greek cross, with the legend, "By thy Cross and Passion, Good Lord, +deliver me!" + +One had come and gone meantime who was as express a contrast to Hartley +Coleridge as could be imagined,--a man of energy, activity, stern +self-discipline, and singular strength of will. Such a cast of character +was an inexplicable puzzle to poor Hartley. He showed this by giving his +impression of another person of the same general mode of life,--that +A.B. was "a monomaniac about everything." It was to rest a hard-worked +mind and body, and to satisfy a genuine need of his nature, that Dr. +Arnold came here from Rugby with his family,--first, to lodgings for an +occasional holiday, and afterwards to a house of his own, at Christmas +and Midsummer, and with the intention of living permanently at Fox How, +when he should give up his work at Rugby. + +He was first at a house at the foot of Rydal Mount, at Christmas, 1831, +"with the road on one side of the garden, and the Rotha on the other, +which goes brawling away under our windows with its perpetual music. The +higher mountains that bound our view are all snow-capped; but it is all +snug, and warm, and green in the valley. Nowhere on earth have I ever +seen a spot of more perfect and enjoyable beauty, with not a single +object out of tune with it, look which way I will." He built Fox How, +two or three years later, and at once began his course of hospitality by +having lads of the sixth form as his guests,--not for purposes of study, +but of recreation, and, yet more, to give them that element of education +which consists in familiarity with the noblest natural scenery. The hue +and cry which arose when he showed himself a reformer, in Church matters +as in politics, followed him here, as we see by his letters; and it was +not till his "Life and Correspondence" appeared that his neighbors here +understood him. It has always been difficult, perhaps, for them to +understand anything modern, or at all vivacious. Everybody respected Dr. +Arnold for his energy and industry, his services to education, and his +devotedness to human welfare; but they were afraid of his supposed +opinions. Not the less heartily did he honor everything that was +admirable in them; and when he was gone, they remembered his ways, and +cherished every trace of him, in a manner which showed how they would +have made much of him, if their own timid prejudices had not stood in +the way. They point out to this day the spot where they saw him stand, +without his hat, on Rotha bridge, watching the gush of the river +under the wooded bank, or gazing into the basin of vapors within the +_cul-de-sac_ of Fairfield,--the same view which he looked on from his +study, as he sat on his sofa, surrounded by books. The neighbors show +the little pier at Waterhead whence he watched the morning or the +evening light on the lake, the place where he bathed, and the tracks in +the mountains which led to his favorite ridges. Everybody has read his +"Life and Correspondence," and therefore knows what his mode of life was +here, and how great was his enjoyment of it. We have all read of the +mountain-trips in summer, and the skating on Rydal Lake in winter,--and +how his train of children enjoyed everything with him, as far as they +could. It was but for a few years; and the time never came for him to +retire hither from Rugby. In June, 1842, he had completed his fourteenth +year at Rugby, and was particularly in need, under some harassing cares, +of the solace and repose which a few hours more would have brought him, +when he was cut off by an illness of two hours. On the day when he was +to have been returning to Fox How, some of his children were travelling +thence to his funeral. His biographer tells us how strong was the +consternation at Rugby, when the tidings spread on that Sunday morning, +"Dr. Arnold is dead." Not slight was the emotion throughout this valley, +when the news passed from house to house, the next day. As I write, I +see the windows which were closed that day, and the trees round the +house,--so grown up since he walked among them!--and the course of the +Rotha, which winds and ripples at the foot of his garden. I never saw +him, for I did not come here till two years after; but I have seen his +widow pass on into her honored old age, and his children part off into +their various homes, and their several callings in life,--to meet in +the beloved house at Fox How, at Christmas, and at many another time. + +This leaves only Southey and the Wordsworths; and their ending was not +far off. The old poet had seen almost too much of these endings. One +day, when I found a stoppage in the road at the foot of Rydal Mount, +from a sale of furniture, such as is common in this neighborhood every +spring and autumn, I met Mr. Wordsworth,--not looking observant and +amused, but in his blackest mood of melancholy, and evidently wanting to +get out of the way. He said he did not like the sight: he had seen so +many of these sales; he had seen Southey's, not long before; and these +things reminded him how soon there must be a sale at Rydal Mount. It was +remarked by a third person that this was rather a wilful way of being +miserable; but I never saw a stronger love of life than there was in +them all, even so late in their day as this. Mrs. Wordsworth, then past +her three-score years and ten, observed to me that the worst of living +here was that it made one so unwilling to go. It seems but lately that +she said so; yet she nursed to their graves her daughter and her husband +and his sister, and she herself became blind; so that it was not hard +"to go," when the time came. + +Southey's decline was painful to witness,--even as his beloved wife's +had been to himself. He never got over her loss; and his mind was +decidedly shaken before he made the second marriage which has been so +much talked over. One most touching scene there was when he had become +unconscious of all that was said and done around him. Mrs. Southey had +been careless of her own interests about money when she married him, and +had sought no protection for her own property. When there was manifestly +no hope of her husband's mind ever recovering, his brother assembled the +family and other witnesses, and showed them a kind of will which he had +drawn up, by which Mrs. Southey's property was returned to herself, +intact. He said they were all aware that their relative could not, in +his condition, make a will, and that he was even unaware of what they +were doing; but that it was right that they should, pledge themselves by +some overt act to fulfil what would certainly have been his wish. The +bowed head could not be raised, but the nerveless hand was guided to +sign the instrument; and all present agreed to respect it as if it +were a veritable will,--as of course they did. The decline was full of +painful circumstances; and it must have been with a heart full of sorrow +that Wordsworth walked over the hills to attend the funeral. + +The next funeral was that of his own daughter Dora,--Mrs. Quillinan. A +story has got about, as untrue as it is disagreeable, that Dora lost +her health from her father's opposition to her marriage, and that +Wordsworth's excessive grief after her death was owing to remorse. I can +myself testify to her health having been very good for a considerable +interval between that difficulty and her last illness; and this is +enough, of itself, to dispose of the story. Her parents considered +the marriage an imprudent one; but after securing sufficient time for +consideration, they said that she must judge for herself; and there were +fine qualities in Mr. Quillinan which could not but win their affection +and substantial regard. His first wife, a friend of Dora Wordsworth's, +was carried out of the house in which she had just been confined, from +fire in the middle of the night; she died from the shock; and she died +recommending her husband and her friend to marry. Such is the understood +history of the case. After much delay they did marry, and lived near +Rydal Mount, where Dora was, as always, the light of the house, as long +as she could go to it. But, after a long and painful decline, she died +in 1847. Her husband followed soon after Wordsworth's death. He lies in +the family corner of Grasmere churchyard, between his two wives. This +appeared to be the place reserved for Mrs. Wordsworth, so that Dora +would lie between her parents. There seemed now to be no room left for +the solitary survivor, and many wondered what would be done; but all had +been thought of. Wordsworth's grave had been made deep enough for two; +and there his widow now rests. + +There was much vivid life in them, however clearly the end was +approaching, when I first knew them in 1845. The day after my arrival at +a friend's house, they called on me, excited by two kinds of interest. +Wordsworth had been extremely gratified by hearing, through a book of +mine, how his works were estimated by certain classes of readers in the +United States; and he and Mrs. Wordsworth were eager to learn facts and +opinions about mesmerism, by which I had just recovered from a +long illness, and which they hoped might avail in the case of a +daughter-in-law, then in a dying state abroad. After that day, I met +them frequently, and was at their house, when I could go. On occasion of +my first visit, I was struck by an incident which explained the ridicule +we have all heard thrown on the old poet for a self-esteem which he was +merely too simple to hide. Nothing could be easier than to make a quiz +of what he said to me; but to me it seemed delightful. As he at once +talked of his poems, I thought I might; and I observed that he might +be interested in knowing which of his poems had been Dr. Channing's +favorite. Seeing him really interested, I told him that I had not been +many hours under Dr. Channing's roof before he brought me "The Happy +Warrior," which, he said, moved him more than any other in the +whole series. Wordsworth remarked,--and repeated the remark very +earnestly,--that this was evidently applicable to the piece, "not as +a poem, not as fulfilling the conditions of poetry, but as a chain of +extremely valuable _thoughts_." Then he repeated emphatically,--"a chain +of extremely _valuable_ thoughts!" This was so true that it seemed as +natural for him to say it as Dr. Channing, or any one else. + +It is indisputable that his mind and manners were hurt by the prominence +which his life at the Lakes--a life very public, under the name of +seclusion--gave, in his own eyes; to his own works and conversation; but +he was less absorbed in his own objects, less solemn, less severed from +ordinary men than is supposed, and has been given out by strangers, who, +to the number of eight hundred in a year, have been received by him with +a bow, asked to see the garden-terraces where he had meditated this and +that work, and dismissed with another bow, and good wishes for their +health and pleasure,--the host having, for the most part, not heard, or +not attended to, the name of his visitor. I have seen him receive in +that way a friend, a Commissioner of Education, whom I ventured to take +with me, (a thing I very rarely did,) and in the evening have had a +message asking if I knew how Mr. Wordsworth could obtain an interview +with this very gentleman, who was said to be in the neighborhood. All +this must be very bad for anybody; and so was the distinction of having +early chosen this District for a home. When I first came, I told my +friends here that I was alarmed for myself, when I saw the spirit of +insolence which seemed to possess the cultivated residents, who really +did virtually assume that the mountains and vales were somehow their +property, or at least a privilege appropriate to superior people +like themselves. Wordsworth's sonnets about the railway were a mild +expression of his feelings in this direction; and Mrs. Wordsworth, +in spite of her excellent sense, took up his song, and declared with +unusual warmth that green fields, with daisies and buttercups, were as +good for Lancashire operatives as our lakes and valleys. I proposed that +the people should judge of this for themselves; but there was no end to +ridicule of "the people from Birthwaite" (the end of the railway, five +miles off). Some had been seen getting their dinner in the churchyard, +and others inquiring how best to get up Loughrigg,--"evidently, quite +puzzled, and not knowing where to go." My reply, "that they would know +next time," was not at all sympathized in. The effect of this exclusive +temper was pernicious in the neighborhood. A petition to Parliament +against the railway was not brought to me, as it was well known that +I would not sign it; but some little girls undertook my case; and the +effect of their parroting of Mr. Wordsworth, about "ourselves" and "the +common people" who intrude upon us, was as sad as it was absurd. The +whole matter ended rather remarkably. When all were gone but Mrs. +Wordsworth, and she was blind, a friend who was as a daughter to her +remarked, one summer day, that there were some boys on the Mount in +the garden. "Ah!" said Mrs. Wordsworth, "there is no end to those +people;--boys from Birthwaite!--boys from Birthwaite!" It was the Prince +of Wales, with a companion or two. + +The notion of Wordsworth's solemnity and sublimity, as something +unremitting, was a total mistake. It probably arose from the want of +proportion in his mind, as in his sister's, before referred to. But he +relished the common business of life, and not only could take in, but +originate a joke. I remember his quizzing a common friend of ours,--one +much esteemed by us all,--who had a wonderful ability of falling asleep +in an instant, when not talking. Mr. Wordsworth told me of the extreme +eagerness of this gentleman, Mrs. Wordsworth, and himself, to see the +view over Switzerland from the ridge of the Jura. Mrs. Wordsworth could +not walk so fast as the gentlemen, and her husband let the friend go on +by himself. When they arrived, a minute or two after him, they found him +sitting on a stone in face of all Switzerland, fast asleep. When Mr. +Wordsworth mimicked the sleep, with his head on one side, anybody +could have told whom he was quizzing.--He and Mrs. Wordsworth, but too +naturally impressed with the mischief of overwalking in the case of +women, took up a wholly mistaken notion that I walked too much. One day +I was returning from a circuit of ten miles with a guest, when we +met the Wordsworths. They asked where we had been. "By Red Bank to +Grasmere." Whereupon Mr. Wordsworth laid his hand on my guest's arm, +saying, "There, there! take care what you are about! don't let her lead +you about! I can tell you, she has killed off half the gentlemen in the +county!"--Mrs. Hemans tells us, that, before she had known him many +hours, she was saying to him, "Dear me, Mr. Wordsworth! how can you be +so giddy?" + +His interest in common things never failed. It has been observed that +he and Mrs. Wordsworth did incalculable good by the example they +unconsciously set the neighborhood of respectable thrift. There are no +really poor people at Rydal, because the great lady at the Hall, Lady Le +Fleming, takes care that there shall be none,--at the expense of great +moral mischief. But there is a prevalent recklessness, grossness, and +mingled extravagance and discomfort in the family management, which, I +am told, was far worse when the Wordsworths came than it is now. Going +freely among the neighbors, and welcoming and helping them familiarly, +the Wordsworths laid their own lives open to observation; and the +mingled carefulness and comfort--the good thrift, in short--wrought as +a powerful lesson all around. As for what I myself saw,--they took a +practical interest in my small purchase of land for my abode; and Mr. +Wordsworth often came to consult upon the plan and progress of the +house. He used to lie on the grass, beside the young oaks, before the +foundations were dug; and he referred me to Mrs. Wordsworth as the best +possible authority about the placing of windows and beds. He climbed to +the upper rooms before there was a staircase; and we had to set Mrs. +Wordsworth as a watch over him, when there was a staircase, but no +balustrade. When the garden was laid out, he planted a stone-pine +(which is flourishing) under the terrace-wall, washed his hands in the +watering-pot, and gave the place and me at once his blessing and some +thrifty counsel. When I began farming, he told me an immense deal about +his cow; and both of them came to see my first calf, and ascertain +whether she had the proper marks of the handsome short-horn of the +region. The distinctive impression which the family made on the minds +of the people about them was that of practical ability; and it was +thoroughly well conveyed by the remark of a man at Rydal, on hearing +some talk of Mrs. Wordsworth, a few days after the poet's death: +--"She's a gay [rare] clever body, who will carry on the business as +well as any of 'em." + +Nothing could be more affecting than to watch the silent changes in Mrs. +Wordsworth's spirits during the ten years which followed the death of +her daughter. For many months her husband's gloom was terrible, in the +evenings, or in dull weather. Neither of them could see to read much; +and the poet was not one who ever pretended to restrain his emotions, +or assume a cheerfulness which he did not feel. We all knew that the +mother's heart was the bereaved one, however impressed the father's +imagination might be by the picture of his own desolation; and we saw +her mute about her own trial, and growing whiter in the face and smaller +from month to month, while he put no restraint upon his tears and +lamentations. The winter evenings were dreary; and in hot summer days +the aged wife had to follow him, when he was missed for any time, lest +he should be sitting in the sun without his hat. Often she found him +asleep on the heated rock. His final illness was wearing and dreary to +her; but there her part was clear, and she was adequate to it. "You +are going to Dora," she whispered to him, when the issue was no longer +doubtful. She thought he did not hear or heed; but some hours after, +when some one opened the curtain, he said, "Are you Dora?" Composed and +cheerful in the prospect of his approaching rest, and absolutely without +solicitude for herself, the wife was everything to him till the last +moment; and when he was gone, the anxieties of the self-forgetting woman +were over. She attended his funeral, and afterwards chose to fill her +accustomed place among the guests who filled the house. She made tea +that evening as usual; and the lightening of her spirits from that time +forward was evident. It was a lovely April day, the 23d, (Shakspeare's +birth--and death-day,) when her task of nursing closed. The news spread +fast that the old poet was gone; and we all naturally turned our eyes up +to the roof under which he lay. There, above and amidst the young green +of the woods, the modest dwelling shone in the sunlight. The smoke went +up thin and straight into the air; but the closed windows gave the place +a look of death. There he was lying whom we should see no more. + +The poor sister remained for five years longer. Travellers, American +and others, must remember having found the garden-gate locked at Rydal +Mount, and perceiving the reason why, in seeing a little garden-chair, +with an emaciated old lady in it, drawn by a nurse round and round the +gravelled space before the house. That was Miss Wordsworth, taking her +daily exercise. It was a great trouble, at times, that she could not be +placed in some safe privacy; and Wordsworth's feudal loyalty was put to +a severe test in the matter. It had been settled that a cottage should +be built for his sister, in a field of his, beyond the garden. The plan +was made, and the turf marked out, and the digging about to begin, +when the great lady at the Hall, Lady Le Fleming, interfered with a +prohibition. She assumed the feudal prerogative of determining what +should or should not be built on all the lands over which the Le +Flemings have borne sway; and her extraordinary determination was, that +no dwelling should be built, except on the site of a former one! We +could scarcely believe we had not been carried back into the Middle +Ages, when we heard it; but the old poet, whom any sovereign in Europe +would have been delighted to gratify, submitted with a good grace, and +thenceforth robbed his sister's feet, and coaxed and humored her at +home,--trusting his guests to put up with the inconveniences of her +state, as he could not remove them from sight and hearing. After she was +gone also, Mrs. Wordsworth, entirely blind, and above eighty years of +age, seemed to have no cares, except when the errors and troubles of +others touched her judgment or sympathy. She was well cared for by +nieces and friends. Her plain common sense and cheerfulness appeared +in one of the last things she said, a few hours before her death. She +remarked on the character of the old hymns, practical and familiar, +which people liked when she was young, and which answered some purposes +better than the sublimer modern sort. She repeated part of a child's +hymn,--very homely, about going straight to school, and taking care of +the books, and learning the lesson well,--and broke off, saying, "There! +if you want to hear the rest, ask the Bishop o' London. _He_ knows it." + +Then, all were gone; and there remained only the melancholy breaking up +of the old home which had been interesting to the world for forty-six +years. Mrs. Wordsworth died in January, 1859. In the May following, the +sale took place which Wordsworth had gloomily foreseen so many years +before. Everything of value was reserved, and the few articles desired +by strangers were bought by commission; and thus the throng at the sale +was composed of the ordinary elements. The spectacle was sufficiently +painful to make it natural for old friends to stay away. Doors and +windows stood wide. The sofa and tea-table where the wisest and best +from all parts of the world had held converse were turned out to be +examined and bid for. Anybody who chose passed the sacred threshold; the +auctioneer's hammer was heard on the terrace; and the hospitable parlor +and kitchen were crowded with people swallowing tea in the intervals of +their business. One farmer rode six-and-thirty miles that morning to +carry home something that had belonged to Wordsworth; and, in default of +anything better, he took a patched old table-cover. There was a bed +of anemones under the windows, at one end of the house; and a bed of +anemones is a treasure in our climate. It was in full bloom in the +morning; and before sunset, every blossom was gone, and the bed was +trampled into ruin. It was dreary work! The two sons live at a distance; +and the house is let to tenants of another name. + +I perceive that I have not noticed the poet's laureateship. The truth +is, the office never seemed to belong to him; and we forgot it, when +not specially reminded of it. We did not like to think of him in +court-dress, going through the ceremonies of levee or ball, in his +old age. His white hair and dim eyes were better at home among the +mountains. + +There stand the mountains, from age to age; and there run the rivers, +with their full and never-pausing tide, while those who came to live and +grow wise beside them are all gone! One after another, they have lain +down to their everlasting rest in the valleys where their step and their +voices were as familiar as the points of the scenery. The region has +changed much since they came as to a retreat. It was they who caused the +change, for the most part; and it was not for them to complain of it; +but the consequence is, that with them has passed away a peculiar +phase of life in England. It is one which can neither be continued +nor repeated. The Lake District is no longer a retreat; and any other +retreat must have different characteristics, and be illumined by some +different order of lights. The case being so, I have felt no scruple in +asking the attention of my readers to a long story, and to full details +of some of the latest Lights of the Lake District. + + + + +PINK AND BLUE. + + +Everybody knows that a _departing_ guest has the most to say. The touch +of the door-knob sends to his lips a thousand things which _must_ be +told. Is it strange, then, that old people, knowing they have "made out +their visit," and feeling themselves brimful of wisdom and experience, +should wish to speak from the fulness of their hearts to those whom they +must so shortly leave? + +Nobody thinks it strange. The world expects it, and, as a general thing, +bears it patiently. Knowing how universal is this spirit of forbearance, +I should, perhaps, have forever held my peace, lest I might abuse +good-nature, had it not been for some circumstances which will be +related a little farther on. + +My little place of business (I am the goldsmith of our village) has long +been the daily resort of several of my particular cronies. They are men +of good minds,--some of them quite literary; for we count, as belonging +to our set, the lawyer, the schoolmaster, the doctor, men of business, +men of no business, and sometimes even the minister. As may be supposed, +our discussions take a wide range: I can give no better notion of _how_ +wide than to say that we discuss everything in the papers. Yesterday +was a snow-storm, but the meeting was held just the same. It was in the +afternoon. The schoolmaster came in late with a new magazine, from which +he read, now and then, for the general edification. + +"Ah!" said he, "if this be true, we can all write for the papers." + +"How's that?" we asked. + +"Why, it says here, that, if the true experience of any human heart were +written, it would be worth more than the best tale ever invented." + +It was a terribly stormy day. The snow came whirling against the two +windows of my shop, clinging to the outside, making it twilight within. +I had given up work; for my eyes are not what they were, and I have to +favor them. Nobody spoke for a while; all had been set to thinking. +Those few words had sent us all back, back, back, thirty, forty, fifty +years, to call up the past. We were gazing upon forms long since +perished, listening to voices long ago hushed forever. Could those forms +have been summoned before us, how crowded would have been my little +shop! Could those voices have been heard, how terrible the discord, the +cries of the wretched mingling with the shouts of the happy ones! There +was a dead silence. The past was being questioned. Would it reply? + +At last some one said,-- + +"Try it." + +"But," said another, "it would fill a whole book." + +"Take up one branch, then; for instance, our--well, our courting-days. +Let each one tell how he won his wife." + +"But shall we get any money by it?" + +"To be sure we shall. Do you think people write for nothing? '_Worth +more_' are the very words used; 'worth more' _what?_ Money, of course." + +"But what shall we do with all our money?" + +"Buy a library for the use of us all. We will draw lots to see who shall +write first; and if he succeeds, the others can follow in order." + +And thus we agreed. + +I was rather sorry the lot fell upon me; for I was always bashful, and +never thought much of myself but once. I think my bashfulness was mostly +owing to my knowing myself to be not very good-looking. I believe that I +am not considered a bad-looking old man; indeed, people who remember me +at twenty-five say that I have grown handsome every year since. + +I do not intend giving a description of myself at that age, but shall +confine myself principally to what was suggested by my friend, as above +mentioned,--namely, how I won my wife. + +It is astonishing how a man may be deluded. Knowing, as I did, just the +facts in the case, regarding my face and figure, yet the last day of the +year 1817 found me in the full belief that I was quite a good-looking +and every way a desirable young man. This was the third article in my +creed. The second was, that Eleanor Sherman loved me; and the first, +that I loved her. It is curious how I became settled in the third +article by means of the second. + +I had spent hours before my looking-glass, trying to make it give in +that I was good-looking. But never was a glass so set in its way. In +vain I used my best arguments, pleaded before it hour after hour, +re-brushed my hair, re-tied my cravat, smiled, bowed, and so forth, and +so forth. "Ill-looking and awkward!" was my only response. At last it +went so far as to intimate that I had, with all the rest, a _conceited_ +look. This was not to be borne, and I withdrew in disgust. The +argument should be carried on in my own heart. Pure reasoning only was +trustworthy. Philosophers assured us that our senses were not to be +trusted. How easy and straightforward the mental process! "Eleanor loves +me; therefore I cannot look ill!" + +It was on the last day of the year I have mentioned, that, just having, +for the fortieth time, arrived at the above conclusion, I prepared to go +forth upon the most delightful of all possible errands. All day I had +been dwelling upon it, wondering at what hour it would be most proper to +go. At three o'clock, I arrayed myself in my Sunday-clothes. I gave a +parting glance of triumph at my glass, and stepped briskly forth upon +the crispy snow. I met people well wrapped up, with mouth and nose +covered, and saw men leave working to thrash their hands. It must have +been cold, therefore; but I felt none of it. + +Her house was half a mile distant. 'T was on a high bank a little back +from the road, of one story in front, and two at the sides. It was what +was called a single house; the front showed only two windows, with a +door near the corner. The sides were painted yellow, the front white, +with a green door. There was an orchard behind, and two poplar-trees +before it. The pathway up the bank was sprinkled with ashes. I had +frequently been as far as the door with her, evenings when I waited upon +her home; but I had never before approached the house by daylight,--that +is, any nearer than the road. I had never _said_ anything; it wasn't +time; but I had given her several little things, and had tried to be her +beau every way that I knew. + +Before I began to notice her, I had never been about much with the +young folks,--partly because I was bashful, and partly because I was so +clumsy-looking. I was more in earnest, therefore, than if I had been +in the habit of running after the girls. After I began to like her, +I watched every motion,--at church, at evening meetings, at +singing-school; and a glance from her eye seemed to fall right upon my +heart. She had been very friendly and sociable with me, always thanked +me very prettily for what little trifles I gave her, and never refused +my company home. She would put her hand within my arm without a moment's +hesitation, chatting all the while, never seeming in the least to +suspect the shiver of joy which shot through my whole frame from the +little hand upon my coat-sleeve. + +I had long been pondering in my mind, in my walks by day and my +lyings-down at night, what should be the next step, what _overt act_ +I might commit; for something told me it was not yet time to _say_ +anything. + +What could have been more fortunate for my wishes, then, than the +project set on foot by the young people, of a grand sleighing-party on +New-Year's evening? They were mostly younger than myself, especially the +girls. Eleanor was but seventeen, I was twenty-three. But I determined +to join this party, and it was to invite Eleanor that I arrayed myself +and set forth, as above mentioned. It was a bold step for a bashful +man,--I mean now the _inviting_ part. + +I had thought over, coming along, just what words I should use; but, as +I mounted the bank, I felt the words, ideas, and all, slipping out at +the ends of my fingers. If it had been a thickly settled place, I should +not have thought much about being watched; but, as there was only +one house in sight, I was sure that not a motion was lost, that my +proceedings would be duly reported, and discussed by the whole village. +All these considerations rendered my situation upon the stone step at +the front-door very peculiar. + +I knew the family were in the back part of the house; for the shutters +of the front-room were tightly closed, as, indeed, they always were, +except on grand occasions. Nevertheless, knocking at the front-door +seemed the right thing to do, and I did it. With a terrible choking in +my throat, and wondering all the while _who_ would come to open, I did +it. I knocked three times. Nobody came. Peddlers, I had observed in like +cases, opened the outside door and knocked at the inner. I tried this +with no better result. I then ventured to open the inner door softly, +and with feelings of awe I stood alone in the spare-room. + +By the light which streamed in through the holes in the tops of the +shutters I distinguished the green painted chairs backed up stiffly +against the wall, the striped homespun carpet, andirons crossed in the +fireplace, with shovel and tongs to match, the big Bible on the table +under the glass, a _waxwork_ on the high mahogany desk in the corner, +and a few shells and other ornaments upon the mantelshelf. + +The terrible order and gloom oppressed me. I felt that it was no slight +thing to venture thus unbidden into the spare-room,--the room set apart +from common uses, and opened only on great occasions: evening-meetings, +weddings, or funerals. But, in the midst of all my tribulation, one +other thought would come,--I don't exactly like to tell it, but then +I believe I promised to keep nothing back;--well, then, if I must,--I +thought that this spare-room was the place where Eleanor would make up +the fire, when--when I was far enough along to come regularly every +Sunday night. With that thought my courage revived. I heard voices in +the next room, the pounding of a flat-iron, and a frequent step across +the floor. I gave a loud rap. The door opened, and Eleanor herself +appeared. She had on a spotted calico gown, with a string of gold beads +around her neck. She held in her hand a piece of fan coral. I felt +myself turning all colors, stammered, hesitated, and believed in my +heart that she would think me a fool. Very likely she did; for I really +suppose that she never, till then, thought that I _meant anything_. + +She contrived, however, to pick out my meaning from the midst of the odd +words and parts of sentences offered her, and replied that she would let +me know that evening. As she did not invite me to the kitchen, the only +thing left me to do was to say good-afternoon and depart. I don't know +which were the queerest,--my feelings in going up or in coming down the +bank. + +When fairly in the road, happening to glance back at the house, I saw +that one half of a shutter was open, and that a man was watching me. He +drew back before I could recognize him. That evening was singing-school. +That was why I went to invite Eleanor in the afternoon. I was afraid +some other fellow would ask her before school was out. + +When I got there, I found all the young folks gathered about the stove. +Something was going on. I pressed in, and found Harry Harlow. He had +been gone a year at sea, and had arrived that forenoon in the stage from +Boston. They were all listening to his wonderful stories. + +When school was over, I stepped up close to Eleanor and offered my arm. +She drew back a little, and handed me a small package. Harry stepped up +on the other side. She took his arm, and they went off slowly together. +I stood still a moment to watch them. When they turned the corner, I +went off alone. Confounded, wonder-struck, I plunged on through the +snow-drifts, seeing, feeling, knowing nothing but the package in my +hand. I found mother sitting by the fire. She and I lived together,--she +and I, and that was all. I knew I should find her with her little round +table drawn up to the fire, her work laid aside, and the Bible open. She +never went to bed with me out. + +I didn't want to tell her. I wouldn't for the world, if I could have had +the opening of my package all to myself. She asked me if I had fastened +the back-door. I sat down by the fire and slowly undid the string. A +silver thimble fell on the bricks. There was also an artificial flower +made of feathers, a copy of verses headed "To a Pair of Bright Eyes," +cut from the county newspaper, a cherry-colored neck-ribbon, a +smelling-bottle, and, at the bottom, a note. I knew well enough what was +in the note. + +"MR. ALLEN,-- + +"I must decline your invitation to the sleigh-ride; and I hope you will +not be offended, if I ask you not to go about with me any more. I think +you are a very good young man, and, as an acquaintance, I like you very +much. + +"Respectfully yours, + +"ELEANOR SHERMAN. + +"P.S.--With this note you will find the things you have given me." + +I took the iron tongs which stood near, picked up the thimble and +dropped it into the midst of the hot coals, then the flower, then the +verses, then the ribbon, then the smelling-bottle, and would gladly have +added myself. + +My mother and I were everything to each other. We two were all that +remained of a large family. I had always confided in her; but still I +was sorry that I had opened the package there. I might have taken it to +my chamber. But then she would have known, she _must_ have known from my +manner, that something was wrong with me. I think, on the whole, I was +glad to have her know the worst. I knew that my mother worshipped me; +but she was not one of those who let their feelings be seen on common +occasions. I gave her the note, and no more was needed. She tried to +comfort me, as mothers will; but I would not be comforted. It was my +first great heart-trouble, and I was weighed down beneath it. She drew +me towards her, I leaned my head upon her shoulder, and was not ashamed +that she knew of the hot tears upon my cheeks. At last I heard her +murmuring softly,-- + +"Oh, what shall I do? He is all I have, and he is so miserable! How can +I bear his sorrow?" + +I think it was the recollection of these words which induced me +afterwards to hide my feelings, that she might not suffer on my account. + +The next day was clear and bright. The sleighing was perfect. I was +miserable. I had not slept. I could not eat. I dared not go into the +village to encounter the jokes which I was certain awaited me there. +Early in the evening, just as the moon rose, I took my stand behind a +clump of trees, half-way up a hill, where I knew the sleighs must pass. + +There I stood, feeling neither cold nor weariness, waiting, watching, +listening for the sleigh-bells. At last I heard them, first faintly, +then louder and louder, until they reached the bottom of the hill. +Slowly they came up, passing, one after another, by my hiding-place. +There were ten sleighs in all. She and Harry were in the fourth. The +moon shone full in their faces, and his looked just as I had often felt; +but I had never dared to show it as Harry did. I felt sure that he would +kiss her. A blue coverlet was wrapped around them, and he was tucking it +in on her side. The hill was steep just there, so that they were obliged +to move quite slowly. They were talking earnestly, and I heard my name. +I was not sure at first; but afterwards I knew. + +"I never thought of his being in earnest before. He is a great deal +older than I, and I never thought that anybody so homely and awkward as +he could suppose"-- + +"Jingle, jingle, jingle," and that was all I heard. I held myself still, +watched the sleighs disappear, one after another, over the brow of the +hill, listened till the last note of the last bell was lost in the +distance, then turned and ran. + +I ran as if I had left my misery behind, and every step were taking me +farther from it. But when I reached home, there it was, aching, aching +in my heart, just the same as before. And there it stayed. Even now, I +can hardly bear to think of those terrible days and nights. But for my +mother's sake I tried to seem cheerful, though I no longer went about +with the young folks. I applied myself closely to my business, sawed my +mother's wood for exercise, learned to paint, and read novels and poetry +for amusement. + +Thus time passed on. The little boys began to call themselves young men, +and me an old _bach_; and into this character I contentedly settled +down. My wild oats, of which I had had but scant measure, I considered +sown. My sense of my own ill-looks became morbid. I hardly looked at a +female except my mother, lest she'd think that I "_could suppose_." +The old set were mostly married off. Eleanor married the young sailor. +People spoke of her as being high-tempered, as being extravagant, +spending in fine clothes the money he earned at the risk of his life. I +don't know that it made any difference to my feelings. It might. At the +time she turned me off, I think I should have married her, knowing she +had those faults. But she removed to the city, and by degrees time and +absence wore off the edge of my grief. My mother lost part of her little +property, and I was obliged to exert myself that she might miss none of +her accustomed comforts. She was a good mother, thoughtful and tender, +sympathizing not only in my troubles, but in my every-day pursuits, my +work, my books, my paintings. + +When I was about thirty, Jane Wood came to live near us. Her mother and +young sister came with her. They rented a small house just across the +next field from us. Although ours, therefore, might have been considered +an infected neighborhood, yet I never supposed myself in the slightest +danger, because I had had the disease. Nevertheless, having an abiding +sense of my own ugliness, I should not have ventured into the immediate +presence of the Woods, _except_ on works of necessity and mercy. + +The younger sister was taken very ill with the typhus fever. It was +customary, in our village, for the neighbors, in such cases, to be very +helpful. Mother was with them day and night, and, when she could not go +herself, used to send me to see if they wanted anything, for they had no +men-folks. + +I seldom saw Jane, and when I did, I never looked at her. I mean, I did +not look her full in the face. It was to her mother that I made all my +offers of assistance. + +This habit of shunning the society of all young females, and +particularly of the Wood girls, was by no means occasioned by any fears +in regard to my own safety. Far from it. I considered myself as one set +apart from all mankind,--set apart, and fenced in, by my own personal +disadvantages. The thought of my caring for a girl, or of being cared +for by a girl, never even occurred to me. "Taboo," so far as I was +concerned, was written upon them all. The marriage state I saw from afar +off. Beautiful and bright it looked in the distance, like the Promised +Land to true believers. Some visions I beheld of its beautiful angels +walking in shining robes; strains of its sweet melody were sometimes +wafted across the distance; but I might never enter there. It was no +land of promise to me. A gulf, dark and impassable, lay between. And +beside all this, as I have already intimated, I considered myself out of +danger. My life's lesson had been learned. I knew it by heart. What more +could be expected of me? + +But, after all, we can't go right against our natures; and it is not the +nature of man to look upon the youthful and the elderly female exactly +in the same light. The feelings with which they are approached are +essentially different, whether he who approaches be seventeen or +seventy. Thus, in conversing with the old lady Wood, I was quite at +my ease. When the invalid began to get well, I often carried her nice +little messes, which my mother prepared, and was generally lucky enough +to find Mrs. Wood,--for I always went in at the back-door. She asked me, +one day, if I could lend Ellen something to read,--for she was then just +about well enough to amuse herself with a book, but not strong enough to +work. Now I always had (so my mother said) a kind and obliging way with +me, and had, besides, a great pride in my library. I was delighted that +anybody wanted to read my books, and hurried home to make a selection. + +That very afternoon, I took over an armful. Nobody was in the kitchen; +so I sat down to wait. The door of the little keeping-room was open, and +I knew by their voices that some great discussion was going on. I tipped +over a cricket to make them aware of my presence. The door was opened +wide, and Mrs. Wood appeared. + +"Now here is Mr. Allen," she exclaimed. "Let us get his opinion." + +Then she took me in, where they were holding solemn council over a straw +bonnet and various colored ribbons. She introduced me to Ellen, whom I +had never before met. She was a merry-looking, black-eyed maiden, and +the roses were already blooming out again upon her cheeks. She was very +young,--not more than fifteen or sixteen. + +"Now, Mr. Allen," said Jane, (she was not so bashful to me as I was to +her,) "let us have your opinion upon these trimmings. Remember, though, +that pink and blue can't go together." + +She turned her face full upon me, and I looked straight into her eyes. +I really believe it was the first time I had done so. They were +beautifully blue, with long dark lashes. She had been a little excited +by the discussion, and her cheeks were like two roses. A strange +boldness came over me. + +"How can I remember that," I answered, "when I see in your face that +pink and blue _do_ go together?" + +Never, till within a few years, could I account for this sudden +boldness. I have now no doubt that I spoke by what spiritualists call +"impression." We were all surprised, and I most of all. Jane laughed, +and looked pinker than before. She would as soon have expected a +compliment from the town pump, and I felt it. + +I knew nothing of bonnets, but I had studied painting, and was a judge +of colors. I made a selection, and could see that they were again +surprised at my good taste. I then offered my books, spoke of the +different authors, turned to what I thought might particularly please +them, and, before I knew it, was all aglow with the unusual excitement +of conversation. I saw that they were not without cultivation, and that +they had a quick appreciation of literary merit. + +And thus an acquaintance commenced. I called often, for it seemed a +pleasant thing to do. As my excuse, I took with me my books, papers, +and all the new publications which reached me. I always thought they +appeared very glad to see me. + +Being strangers in the place, they saw but little company, and it seemed +to be nothing more than my duty to call in now and then in a neighborly +way. I talked quite easily; for among books I felt at home. They talked +easily, too; for they (I say it in no ill-natured way) were women. They +began to consider my frequent calling as a matter of course, and always +smiled upon me when I entered. I felt that they congratulated themselves +upon finding me out. They had penetrated the ice, and found open sea +beyond. I speak of it in this way, because I afterwards overheard Ellen +joking her sister about discovering the Northwest Passage to my heart. + +This was in the fall of the year, when the evenings were getting quite +long. They were fond of reading, but had not much time for it. I was +fond of reading, and had many long evenings at my disposal. It followed, +therefore, that I read aloud, while they worked. With the "Pink and +Blue" just opposite, I read evening after evening. At first I used to +look up frequently, to see how such and such a passage would strike her; +but one evening Ellen asked me, in a laughing, half-saucy sort of way, +why I didn't look at _her_ sometimes to see how _she_ liked things. This +made me color up; and Jane colored up, too. After that I kept my eyes on +my book; but I always knew when she stopped her work and raised her +head at the interesting parts, and always hoped she didn't see the red +flushes spreading over my face, and always wished, too, that she would +look away,--for, somehow, my voice would not go on smoothly. + +Those red flushes were to myself most mysterious. Nevertheless, they +continued, and even appeared to be on the increase. At first, I felt +them only while reading; then, upon entering the room; and at last +they began to come before I got across the field. Still I felt no real +uneasiness, but, on the contrary, was glad I could be of so much use to +the family. Never before was the want of men-folks felt so little by a +family of women-folks. I did errands, split kindling, dug "tracks," (_i. +e._, paths in the snow,) and glued broken furniture. + +I always thought of Jane as "Pink and Blue." Sometimes I thought from +her manner that she would a little rather I wouldn't come so often. I +thought she didn't look up at me so pleasantly as she used to at first, +and seemed a little stiff; but, as I had a majority in my favor, I +continued my visits. I always had one good look at her when I said +good-night; but it made the red come, so that I had to hurry out before +she saw. It seemed to me that her cheeks then looked pinker than ever, +and the two colors, pink and blue, seemed to mingle and float before my +eyes all the way home. "Pink and blue," "pink and blue." How those two +little words kept running in my head, and, I began to fear, in my heart +too!--for no sooner would I close my eyes at night than those delicate +pink cheeks and blue eyes would appear before me. They haunted my +dreams, and were all ready to greet me at waking. + +I was completely puzzled. It reminded me of old times. Seemed just like +being in love again. Could it be possible that I was liable to a second +attack? + +One night I took a new book and hurried across the field to the Woods', +for I never was easy till I saw "Pink and Blue" face to face; and +then,--why, then, I was not at all easy. I felt the red flushes coming +long before I reached the house. As soon as I entered the room, I felt +that she was missing. I must have looked blank; for Mrs. Wood began +to explain immediately, that Jane was not well, and had gone to +bed;--nothing serious; but she had thought it better for her not to +sit up. I remained and read as usual, but, as it seemed to me, to bare +walls. I had become so accustomed to reading with "Pink and Blue" just +opposite, to watching for the dropping of her work and the raising of +her eyes to my face, that I really seemed on this occasion to be reading +to no purpose whatever. I went home earlier than usual, very sober and +very full of thought. My mother noticed it, and inquired if they were +well at Mrs. Wood's. So I told her about Jane. + +That night my eyes were fully opened. I was in love. Yes, the old +disease was upon me, and my last state was worse than my first,--just as +much so as Jane was superior to Eleanor. The discovery threw me into +the greatest distress. Hour after hour I walked the floor, in my own +chamber, trying to reason the love from my heart,--but in vain; and at +length, tossing myself on the bed, I almost cursed the hour in which I +first saw the Woods. I called myself fool, dolt, idiot, for thus running +my head a second time into the noose. It may seem strange, but the +thought that she might possibly care for me never once occurred to my +mind. Eleanor's words in the sleigh still rang in my ears: "I never +thought that anybody so homely and awkward could suppose"--No, I must +not "suppose." Once, in the midst of it all, I calmed down, took a +light, and, very deliberately walking to the glass, took a complete view +of my face and figure,--but with no other effect than to settle me more +firmly in my wretchedness. Towards morning I grew calmer, and resolved +to look composedly upon my condition, and decide what should be done. + +While I was considering whether or not to continue my visits at the +Woods', I fell asleep just where I had thrown myself, outside the bed, +in overcoat and boots. I dreamed of seeing "Pink and Blue" carried off +by some horrid monster,--which, upon examination, proved to be myself. +The sun shining in my face woke me, and I remembered that I had decided +upon nothing. The best thing seemed to be to snap off the acquaintance +and quit the place. But then I could not leave my mother. No, I must +keep where I was,--and if I kept where I was, I must keep on at the +Woods',--and if I kept on at the Woods', I should keep on feeling just +as I did, and perhaps--more so. I resolved, finally, to remain where +I was, and to take no abrupt step, (which might cause remark,) but +to break off my visits gradually. The first week, I could skip one +night,--the next, two,--and so on,--using my own judgment about tapering +off the acquaintance gradually and gracefully to an imperceptible point. +The way appearing plain at last, how that _unloving_ might be made easy, +I assumed a cheerful air, and went down to breakfast. My mother looked +up rather anxiously at my entrance; but her anxiety evidently vanished +at sight of my face. + +It did not seem to me quite right to forsake the Woods that morning; for +some snow had fallen during the night, and I felt it incumbent upon me +to dig somewhat about the doors. With my trousers tucked into my boots, +I trod a new path across the field. It would have seemed strange not to +go in; so I went in and warmed my feet at the kitchen-fire. Only Mrs. +Wood was there; but I made no inquiries. Not knowing what to say, I rose +to go; but, just at that minute, the mischievous Ellen came running out +of the keeping-room and wanted to know where I was going. Why didn't I +come in and see Jane? So I went in to see Jane, saying my prayers, as I +went,--that is, praying that I might not grow foolish again. But I did. +I don't believe any man could have helped it. She was reclining upon +a couch which was drawn towards the fire. I sat down as far from that +couch as the size of the room would allow. She looked pale and really +ill, but raised her blue eyes when she said good-morning; and then--the +hot flushes began to come. She looked red, too, and I thought she had +a settled fever. I wanted to say something, but didn't know what. Some +things seemed too warm, others too cold. At last I thought,--"Why, +_anybody_ can say to anybody, 'How do you do?'" So I said,-- + +"Miss Wood, how do you do, this morning?" + +She looked up, surprised; for I tried hard to stiffen my words, and had +succeeded admirably. + +"Not very unwell, I thank you, Sir," she replied; but I knew she was +worse than the night before. My situation grew unbearable, and I rose to +go. + +"Mr. Allen, what do you think about Jane?" said Ellen. "You know about +sickness, don't you? Come, feel her pulse, and see if she will have a +fever." And she drew me towards the lounge. + +My heart was in my throat, and my face was on fire. Jane flushed up, and +I thought she was offended at my presumption. What could I do? Ellen +held out to me the little soft hand; but I dared not touch it, unless I +asked her first. + +"Miss Wood," I asked, "shall I mind Ellen?" + +"Of course you will," exclaimed Ellen. "Tell him yes, Jane." + +Then Jane smiled and said,-- + +"Yes, if he is willing." + +And I took her wrist in my thumb and finger. The pulse was quick and the +skin dry and hot. I think I would have given a year's existence to clasp +that hand between my own, and to stroke down her hair. I hardly knew how +I didn't do it; and the fear that I should made me drop her arm in +a hurry, as if it had burned my fingers. Ellen stared. I bade them +good-morning abruptly, and left the room and the house. "This, then," I +thought, as I strode along towards the village, "is the beginning of the +ending!" + +That evening, I felt in duty bound to go, as a neighbor, to inquire for +the sick. I went, but found no one below. When Ellen came down, she said +that Jane was quite ill. I remained in the keeping-room all the evening, +mostly alone, asked if I could do anything for them, and obtained some +commissions for the next day at the village. + +Jane's illness, though long, was not dangerous,--at least, not to her. +To me it was most perilous, particularly the convalescence; for then I +could be of so much use to her! The days were long and spring-like. Wild +flowers appeared. She liked them, and I managed that she should never be +without a bunch of them. She liked paintings, and I brought over my own +portfolio. She must have wondered at the number of violets and roses +therein. The readings went on and seemed more delicious than ever. I +owned a horse and chaise, and for a whole week debated whether it would +be safe for me to take her to drive. But I didn't; for I should have +been obliged to hand her in, to help her out, and to sit close beside +her all alone. All that could never be done without my betraying myself. +But she got well without any drives; and by the latter part of April, +when the evenings had become very short, I thought it high time to begin +to skip one. I began on Monday. I kept away all day, all the evening, +and all the next day. Tuesday evening, just before dark, I took the path +across the field. The two girls were at work making a flower-garden. +"Pink and Blue" had a spade, and was actually spading up the ground. I +caught it from her hand so quickly that she looked up almost frightened. +Her face was flushed with exercise; but her blue eyes looked tired. How +I reproached myself for not coming sooner! At dark, I went in with them. +We took our accustomed seats, and I read. "Paradise regained" was what I +kept thinking of. Once, when I moved my seat, that I might be directly +opposite Jane, who was lying on the coach, I thought I saw Ellen and her +mother exchange glances. I was suspected, then,--and with all the pains +I had taken, too. This rather upset me; and what with my joy at being +with Jane, my exertions to hide it, and my mortification at being +discovered, my reading, I fear, was far from satisfactory. + +The next morning I went early to the flower-garden, and, before anybody +was stirring, had it all hoed and raked over, so that no more hard work +could be done there. I didn't go in. Thursday night I went again, and +again Saturday night. The next week I skipped two evenings, and the +next, three, and flattered myself I was doing bravely. Jane never asked +me why I came so seldom, but Ellen did frequently; and I always replied +that I was very busy. Those were truly days of suffering. Nevertheless, +having formed my resolution, I determined to abide by it. God only knew +what it cost me. On the beautiful May mornings, and during the long +"after tea," which always comes into country-life, I could watch them, +watch her, from my window, while the planting, watering, and weeding +went on in the flower-garden. I saw them go in at dark, saw the light +appear in the keeping-room, and fancied them sitting at their work, +wondering, perhaps, that nobody came to read to them. + +One day, when I had not been there for three days and nights, I +received, while at work in my shop, a sudden summons from home. My +mother, the little boy said, was very sick. I hurried home in great +agitation. I could not bear the thought that sickness or death should +reach my dear mother. Mrs. Wood met me at the door, to say that a +physician had been sent for, but that my mother was relieved and there +was no immediate danger. I hurried to her chamber and found--Jane by +her bedside. For all my anxiety about my mother, I felt the hot flush +spreading over my face. It seemed so good to see her taking care of my +mother! In my agitation, I caught hold of her hand and spoke before I +thought. + +"Oh, Jane," I whispered, "I am so glad you are here!" + +Her face turned as red as fire. I thought she was angry at my boldness, +or, perhaps, because I called her Jane. + +"Excuse me," said I. "I am so agitated about mother that I hardly know +what I am about." + +When the doctor came, he gave hopes that my mother would recover; but +she never did. She suffered little, but grew weaker and weaker every +day. Jane was with her day and night; for my mother liked her about her +bed better than anybody. Oh, what a strange two weeks were those! My +mother was so much to me, how could I give her up? She was the only +person on earth who cared for me, and she must die! Yet side by side in +my heart with this great grief was the great joy of living, day after +day, night after night, under the same roof with Jane. By necessity +thrown constantly with her, feeling bound to see that she, too, did not +get sick, with watching and weariness,--yet feeling myself obliged to +measure my words, to keep up an unnatural stiffness, lest I should break +down, and she know all my weakness! + +At last all was over,--my mother was dead. It is of no use,--I never can +put into words the frenzied state of my feelings at that time. I had not +even the poor comfort of grieving like other people. I ground my teeth +and almost cursed myself, when the feeling would come that sorrow for +my mother's death was mingled with regrets that there was no longer any +excuse for my remaining in the same neighborhood with Jane. I reproached +myself with having made my mother's death-bed a place of happiness; for +my conscience told me that those two weeks had been, in one sense, the +happiest of my life. + +By what I then experienced I knew that our connection must be broken off +entirely. Half-way work had already been tried too long. Sitting by the +dead body of my mother, gazing upon that face which, ever since I could +remember, had reflected my own joys and sorrows, I resolved to decide +once for all upon my future course. I was without a single tie. In all +the wide world, not a person cared whether I lived or died. One part of +the wide world, then, was as good for me as another. There was but one +little spot where I must not remain; all the rest was free to me. I took +the map of the world. I was a little past thirty, healthy, and should +probably, accidents excepted, live out the time allotted to man. I +divided the land mapped out before me into fifteen portions. I would +live two years in each; then, being an old man, I would gradually draw +nearer to this forbidden "little spot," inquire what had become of the +Woods, and settle down in the same little house, patiently to await my +summons. My future life being thus all mapped out, I arose with calmness +to perform various little duties which yet remained to be done before +the funeral could take place. + +Beautiful flowers were in the room; a few white ones were at my mother's +breast. Jane brought them. She had done everything, and I had not even +thanked her. How could I, in that stiff way I had adopted towards her? + +My father was buried beneath an elm-tree, at the farthest corner of the +garden. I had my mother laid by his side. When the funeral was over, +Mrs. Wood and her daughters remained at the house to arrange matters +somewhat, and to give directions to the young servant, who was now my +only housekeeper. At one time I was left alone with Jane; the others +were up stairs. Feeling that any emotion on my part might reasonably be +attributed to my affliction, I resolved to thank her for her kindness. I +rushed suddenly up to her, and, seizing her hand, pressed it between my +own. + +"I want to thank you, Jane," I began, "but--I cannot." + +And I could not, for I trembled all over, and something choked me so +that I could not speak more. + +"Oh, don't, Mr. Allen!" she said; and the tone in which she uttered the +words startled me. + +It seemed as if they came from the very depths of her being. Feeling +that I could not control myself, I rushed out and gained my own chamber. +What passed there between myself and my great affliction can never be +told. + +In a week's time all was ready for my departure. I gave away part of the +furniture to some poor relations of my father's. My mother's clothing +and the silver spoons, which were marked with her maiden name, I locked +up in a trunk, and asked Mrs. Wood to take care of it. She inquired +where I was going, and I said I didn't know. I didn't, for I was not to +decide until I reached Boston. I think she thought my mind was impaired +by grief, and it was. I spent the last evening there. They knew I was to +start the next forenoon in the stage, and they really seemed very sober. +No reading was thought of. Jane had her knitting-work, and Mrs. Wood +busied herself about her mending. The witchy little Ellen was quite +serious. She sat in a low chair by the fire, sometimes stirring up the +coals and sometimes the conversation. Jane appeared restless. I feared +she was overwearied with watching and her long attendance on my mother, +for her face was pale and she had a headache. She left the room several +times. I felt uneasy while she was out; but no less so when she came +back,--for there was a strange look about her eyes. + +At last I summoned all my courage and rose to depart. + +"I will not say good-bye," I said, in a strange, hollow voice; "I will +only shake hands, and bid you good-night." + +I shook hands with them all,--Jane last. Her hand was as cold as clay. I +dared not try to speak, but rushed abruptly from the house. Another long +night of misery! + +When I judged, from the sounds below stairs, that my little servant had +breakfast ready, I went down and forced myself to eat; for I was feeling +deathly faint, and knew I needed food. I gave directions for the +disposition of some remaining articles, and for closing the house, then +walked rapidly towards the public-house in the village, where my trunks +had already been carried. I was very glad that I should not have to pass +the Woods'. I saw the girls out in their garden just before I left, and +took a last long look, but was sorry I did; it did me no good. + +I was to go to Boston in the stage, and then take a vessel to New York, +whence I might sail for any part of the world. When I arrived at the +tavern, the Boston stage was just in, and the driver handed me a letter. +It was from the mate of the vessel, saying that his sailing would be +delayed two days, and requesting me to take a message from him to his +family, who lived in a small village six miles back from what was called +the stage-road. I went on horseback, performed my errand, dined with the +family, and returned at dark to the inn. After supper, it occurred to me +to go to the Woods' and surprise them. I wanted to see just what they +were doing, and just how they looked,--just how _she_ looked. But a +moment's reflection convinced me that I had much better not. But be +quiet I could not, and I strolled out of the back-door of the inn, and +so into a wide field behind. There was a moon, but swift dark clouds +were flying across it, causing alternate light and shadow. I strayed +on through field and meadow, hardly knowing whither I went, yet with a +half-consciousness that I should find myself at the end by my mother's +grave. I felt, therefore, no surprise when I saw that I was approaching, +through a field at the back of my garden, the old elm-tree. As I drew +near the grave, the moon, appearing from behind a cloud, showed me the +form of a woman leaning against the tree. She wore no bonnet,--nothing +but a shawl thrown over her head. Her face was turned from me, but I +knew those features, even in the indistinct moonlight, and my heart gave +a sudden leap, as I pressed eagerly forward. She turned in affright, +half screamed, half ran, then, recognizing me, remained still as a +statue. + +"Mr. Allen, you here? I thought you were gone," she said, at last. + +"Jane, you here?" said I. "You ought not; the night is damp; you will +get sick." + +Nevertheless, I went on talking, told what had detained me, described +my journey and visit, and inquired after her family, as if I had been a +month absent. I never talked so easily before; for I knew she was not +looking in my face, and forgot how my voice might betray me. I spoke of +my mother, of how much she was to me, of my utter loneliness, and even +of my plans for the future. + +"But I am keeping you too long," I exclaimed, at last; "this evening air +is bad; you must go home." + +I walked along with her, up through the garden, and along the road +towards her house. I did not offer my arm, for I dared not trust myself +so near. The evening wind was cool, and I took off my hat to let it blow +upon my forehead, for my head was hot and my brain in a whirl. We came +to a stop at the gate, beneath an apple-tree, then in full bloom. I +think now that my mind at that time was not--exactly sound. The severe +mental discipline which I had forced upon myself, the long striving to +subdue the strongest feelings of a man's heart, together with my real +heart-grief at my mother's death, were enough, certainly, to craze any +one. I _was_ crazy; for I only meant to say "Good-bye," but I said, +"Good-bye, Jane; I would give the world to stay, but I must go." I +thought I was going to take her hand; but, instead of that, I took her +face between my own two hands, and turned it up towards mine. First I +kissed her cheeks. "That is for the pink," I said. Then her eyes. "And +that is for the blue. And now I go. You won't care, will you, Jane, that +I kissed you? I shall never trouble you any more; you know you will +never see me again. Good-bye, Jane!" + +I grasped her hand tightly and turned away. I thought I was off, but she +did not let go my hand. I paused, as if to hear what she had to say. She +had hitherto spoken but little; she had no need, for I had talked with +all the rapidity of insanity. She tried to speak now, but her voice was +husky, and she almost whispered. + +"Why do you go?" she asked. + +"Because I _must_, Jane," I replied. "I _must_ go." + +"And _why_ must you go?" she asked. + +"Oh, Jane, don't ask me why I must go; you wouldn't, if you knew"-- + +There I stopped. She spoke again. There was a strange tone in her voice, +and I could feel that she was trembling all over. + +"_Don't_ go, Henry." + +Never before had she called me Henry, and this, together with her strong +emotion and the desire she expressed for me to stay, shot a bright +thought of joy through my soul. It was the very first moment that I +had entertained the possibility of her caring for me. I seemed another +being. Strange thoughts flashed like lightning across my mind. My +resolve was taken. + +"Who cares whether I go or stay?" I asked. + +"_I_ care," said she. + +I took both her hands in mine, and, looking full in her face, said, in a +low voice,-- + +"Jane, _how much_ do you care?" + +"A whole heart full," she replied, in a voice as low and as earnest as +my own. + +She was leaning on the fence; I leaned back beside her, for I grew sick +and faint, thinking of the great joy that might be coming. + +"Jane," said I, solemnly, "you wouldn't _marry me_, would you?" + +"Certainly not," she replied. "How can I, when you have never asked me?" + +"Jane," said I, and my voice sounded strange even to myself, "I hope you +are not trifling;--you never would dare, did you know the state I am in, +that I _have_ been in for--oh, so long! But I can't have hidden all my +love. Can't you see how my life almost is hanging upon your answer? +Jane, do you love me, and will you be my wife?" + +"Henry," she replied, softly, but firmly, "I _do_ love you. I have loved +you a long, long time, and I shall be proud to be your wife, if--you +think me worthy." + +It was more than I could bear. The sleepless nights, the days of almost +entire fasting, together with all my troubles, had been too much for me. +I was weak in body and in mind. + +"Oh, Jane!" was all I could say. Then, leaning my head upon her +shoulder, I cried like a child. It didn't seem childish then. + +"Oh, but, Henry, I won't, then, if you feel so badly about it," said +she, half laughing. Then, changing her tone, she begged me to become +calm. But in vain. The barriers were broken down, and the tide of +emotion, long suppressed, must gush forth. She evidently came to this +conclusion. She stood quiet and silent, and at last began timidly +stroking my hair. I shall never forget the first touch of her hand upon +my forehead. It soothed me, or else my emotion was spent; for, after a +while, I became quite still. + +"Oh, Jane," I whispered, "my sorrow I could bear; but this strange +happiness overwhelms me. Can it be true? Oh, it is a fearful thing to be +so happy! How came you to love me, Jane? You are so beautiful, and I--I +am so"---- + +"You are so good, Henry!" she exclaimed, earnestly,--"too good for me! +You are a true-hearted, noble soul, worthy the love of any woman. If you +weren't so bashful," she continued, in a lower tone, "I should not say +so much; but--do you suppose nobody is happy but yourself? There is +somebody who scarcely more than an hour ago was weeping bitter tears, +feeling that the greatest joy of her life was gone forever. But now her +joy has returned to her, her heart is glad, she trembles with happiness. +Oh, Henry, 'it is a fearful thing to be so happy!'" + +I could not answer; so I drew her close up to me. She was mine now, and +why should I not press her closely to my heart,--that heart so brimful +of love for her? There was a little bench at the foot of the apple-tree, +and there I made her sit down by me and answer the many eager questions +I had to ask. I forgot all about the dampness and the evening air. +She told how her mother had liked me from the first,--how they were +informed, by some few acquaintances they had made in the village, of my +early disappointment, and also of the peculiar state of mind into which +I was thrown by those early troubles; but when she began to love me she +couldn't tell. She had often thought I cared for her,--mentioned the day +when I found her at my mother's bedside, also the day of the funeral; +but so well had I controlled my feelings that she was never sure until +that night. + +"I trust you will not think me unmaidenly, Henry," said she, looking +timidly up in my face. "You won't think worse of me, will you, for--for +almost offering myself to you?" + +There was but one answer to this, and I failed not to give it. 'Twas a +very earnest answer, and she drew back a little. Her voice grew lower +and lower, while she told how, at my shaking hands the night before, she +almost fainted,--how she longed to say "Stay," but dared not, for I was +so stiff and cold: how could she say, "Don't go, Mr. Allen; please stay +and marry me"?--how she passed a wretched night and day, and walked out +at evening to be alone,--how she felt that she could go nowhere but to +my mother's grave,--and, finally, how overwhelmed with joy she was when +I came upon her so suddenly. + +All this she told me, speaking softly and slowly, for which I was +thankful; for I liked to feel the sweet words of healing, dropping one +by one upon my heart. + +In the midst of our talk, we heard the front-door of the house open. + +"They are coming to look for me," said Jane. "You will go in?" + +Hand in hand we walked up the pathway. We met Ellen half-way down. She +started with surprise at seeing me. + +"Why, Mr. Allen!" she exclaimed, "I thought you a hundred miles off. +Why, Jane, mother was afraid you had fallen down the well." + +She tripped gayly into the house. + +"Mother!" she called out,--"you sent me for one, and I have brought you +two." + +Jane and I walked in hand in hand; for I would not let her go. Her +mother looked surprised, but well pleased. + +"Mrs. Wood," said I, "Jane has asked me to stay, and I am going to." + +Nothing more was needed; our faces told the rest. + +"Now Heaven be praised," she replied, "that we are still to have you +with us! I could not help thinking, that, if you only knew how much we +cared for you, you would not have been in such a hurry to leave us." And +she glanced significantly towards Jane. + +The rest of the evening was spent in the most interesting explanations. +I passed the night at the village inn, as I had intended,--passed it, +not in sleep, but in planning and replanning, and in trying to persuade +myself that "Pink and Blue" was my own to keep. + +The next day I spent at the Woods'. It was the first really happy day of +my life. In the afternoon, I took a long walk with Jane, through green +lanes, and orchards white and fragrant with blossoms. In the evening, +the family assembled, and we held sweet council together. It was decided +unanimously, that, situated as I was, there was no reason for delaying +the wedding,--that I should repossess myself of the furniture I had +given away, by giving new in exchange, the old being dearer to both Jane +and myself,--and, finally, that our wedding should be very quiet, and +should take place as soon as Jane could be got ready. Through it all I +sat like one in a dream, assenting to everything, for everything seemed +very desirable. + +As soon as possible, I reopened my house, and established myself there +with the same little servant. It took Jane about a month to get ready, +and it took me some years to feel wholly my own happiness. + +The old house is still standing; but after Mrs. Wood died, and Ellen was +married, we moved into the village; for the railroad came very near us, +cutting right through the path "across the field." I had the bodies of +my father and mother removed to the new cemetery. + +My wife has been to me a lifelong blessing, my heart's joy and comfort. +They who have not tried it can never know how much love there is in a +woman's heart. The pink still lingers on her cheek, and her blue eye has +that same expression which so bewitched me in my younger days. The spell +has never been broken. I am an old man and she is an old woman, and, +though I don't do it before folks, lest they call us two old fools, yet, +when I come in and find her all alone, I am free to own that I do hug +and kiss her, and always mean to. If anybody is inclined to laugh, let +him just come and see how beautiful she is. + +Our sons are away now, and all our daughters are married but one. I'm +glad they haven't taken her,--she looks so much as her mother did when I +first knew her. Her name is Jane Wood Allen. She goes in the village by +the name of Jennie Allen; but I like Jane better,--Jane Wood. + +That is a true account of "How I won my wife." + + + + +POMEGRANATE-FLOWERS. + + + The street was narrow, close, and dark, + And flanked with antique masonry, + The shelving eaves left for an ark + But one long strip of summer sky. + But one long line to bless the eye-- + The thin white cloud lay not so high, + Only some brown bird, skimming nigh, + From wings whence all the dew was dry + Shook down a dream of forest scents, + Of odorous blooms and sweet contents, + Upon the weary passers-by. + + Ah, few but haggard brows had part + Below that street's uneven crown, + And there the murmurs of the mart + Swarmed faint as hums of drowsy noon. + With voices chiming in quaint tune + From sun-soaked hulls long wharves adown, + The singing sailors rough and brown + Won far melodious renown, + Here, listening children ceasing play, + And mothers sad their well-a-way, + In this old breezy sea-board town. + + Ablaze on distant banks she knew, + Spreading their bowls to catch the sun, + Magnificent Dutch tulips grew + With pompous color overrun. + By light and snow from heaven won + Their misty web azaleas spun; + Low lilies pale as any nun, + Their pensile bells rang one by one; + And spicing all the summer air + Gold honeysuckles everywhere + Their trumpets blew in unison. + + Than where blood-cored carnations stood + She fancied richer hues might be, + Scents rarer than the purple hood + Curled over in the fleur-de-lis. + Small skill in learned names had she, + Yet whatso wealth of land or sea + Had ever stored her memory, + She decked its varied imagery + Where, in the highest of the row + Upon a sill more white than snow, + She nourished a pomegranate-tree. + + Some lover from a foreign clime, + Some roving gallant of the main, + Had brought it on a gay spring-time, + And told her of the nacar stain + The thing would wear when bloomed again. + Therefore all garden growths in vain + Their glowing ranks swept through her brain, + The plant was knit by subtile chain + To all the balm of Southern zones, + The incenses of Eastern thrones, + The tinkling hem of Aaron's train. + + The almond shaking in the sun + On some high place ere day begin, + Where winds of myrrh and cinnamon + Between the tossing plumes have been, + It called before her, and its kin + The fragrant savage balaustine + Grown from the ruined ravelin + That tawny leopards couch them in; + But this, if rolling in from seas + It only caught the salt-fumed breeze, + Would have a grace they might not win. + + And for the fruit that it should bring, + One globe she pictured, bright and near, + Crimson, and throughly perfuming + All airs that brush its shining sphere. + In its translucent atmosphere + Afrite and Princess reappear,-- + Through painted panes the scattered spear + Of sunrise scarce so warm and clear,-- + And pulped with such a golden juice, + Ambrosial, that one cannot choose + But find the thought most sumptuous cheer. + + Of all fair women she was queen, + And all her beauty, late and soon, + O'ercame you like the mellow sheen + Of some serene autumnal noon. + Her presence like a sweetest tune + Accorded all your thoughts in one. + Than last year's alder-tufts in June + Browner, yet lustrous as a moon + Her eyes glowed on you, and her hair + With such an air as princes wear + She trimmed black-braided in a crown. + + A perfect peace prepared her days, + Few were her wants and small her care, + No weary thoughts perplexed her ways, + She hardly knew if she were fair. + + Bent lightly at her needle there + In that small room stair over stair, + All fancies blithe and debonair + She deftly wrought on fabrics rare, + All clustered moss, all drifting snow, + All trailing vines, all flowers that blow, + Her daedal fingers laid them bare. + + Still at the slowly spreading leaves + She glanced up ever and anon, + If yet the shadow of the eaves + Had paled the dark gloss they put on. + But while her smile like sunlight shone, + The life danced to such blossom blown + That all the roses ever known, + Blanche of Provence, Noisette, or Yonne, + Wore no such tint as this pale streak + That damasked half the rounding cheek + Of each bud great to bursting grown. + + And when the perfect flower lay free, + Like some great moth whose gorgeous wings + Fan o'er the husk unconsciously, + Silken, in airy balancings,-- + She saw all gay dishevellings + Of fairy flags, whose revellings + Illumine night's enchanted rings. + So royal red no blood of kings + She thought, and Summer in the room + Sealed her escutcheon on their bloom, + In the glad girl's imaginings. + + Now, said she, in the heart of the woods + The sweet south-winds assert their power, + And blow apart the snowy snoods + Of trilliums in their thrice-green bower. + Now all the swamps are flushed with dower + Of viscid pink, where, hour by hour, + The bees swim amorous, and a shower + Reddens the stream where cardinals tower. + Far lost in fern of fragrant stir + Her fancies roam, for unto her + All Nature came in this one flower. + + Sometimes she set it on the ledge + That it might not be quite forlorn + Of wind and sky, where o'er the edge, + Some gaudy petal, slowly borne, + Fluttered to earth in careless scorn, + Caught, for a fallen piece of morn + From kindling vapors loosely shorn, + By urchins ragged and wayworn, + Who saw, high on the stone embossed, + A laughing face, a hand that tossed + A prodigal spray just freshly torn. + + What wizard hints across them fleet,-- + These heirs of all the town's thick sin, + Swift gypsies of the tortuous street, + With childhood yet on cheek and chin! + What voices dropping through the din + An airy murmuring begin,-- + These floating flakes, so fine and thin, + Were they and rock-laid earth akin? + Some woman of the gods was she, + The generous maiden in her glee? + And did whole forests grow within? + + A tissue rare as the hoar-frost, + White as the mists spring dawns condemn, + The shadowy wrinkles round her lost, + She wrought with branch and anadem, + Through the fine meshes netting them, + Pomegranate-flower and leaf and stem. + Dropping it o'er her diadem + To float below her gold-stitched hem, + Some duchess through the court should sail + Hazed in the cloud of this white veil, + As when a rain-drop mists a gem. + + Her tresses once when this was done, + --Vanished the skein, the needle bare,-- + She dressed with wreaths vermilion + Bright as a trumpet's dazzling blare. + Nor knew that in Queen Dido's hair, + Loading the Carthaginian air, + Ancestral blossoms flamed as fair + As any ever hanging there. + While o'er her cheek their scarlet gleam + Shot down a vivid varying beam, + Like sunshine on a brown-bronzed pear. + + And then the veil thrown over her, + The vapor of the snowy lace + Fell downward, as the gossamer + Tossed from the autumn winds' wild race + Falls round some garden-statue's grace. + Beneath, the blushes on her face + Fled with the Naiad's shifting chase + When flashing through a watery space. + And in the dusky mirror glanced + A splendid phantom, where there danced + All brilliances in paler trace. + + A spicery of sweet perfume, + As if from regions rankly green + And these rich hoards of bud and bloom, + Lay every waft of air between. + Out of some heaven's unfancied screen + The gorgeous vision seemed to lean. + The Oriental kings have seen + Less beauty in their daïs-queen, + And any limner's pencil then + Had drawn the eternal love of men, + But twice Chance will not intervene. + + For soon with scarce a loving sigh + She lifts it off half unaware, + While through the clinging folds held high, + Arachnean in a silver snare + Her rosy fingers nimbly fare, + Till gathered square with dainty care. + But still she leaves the flowery flare + --Such as Dame Venus' self might wear-- + Where first she placed them, since they blow + More bounteous color hanging so, + And seem more native to the air. + + Anon the mellow twilight came + With breath of quiet gently freed + From sunset's felt but unseen flame. + Then by her casement wheeled in speed + Strange films, and half the wings indeed + That steam in rainbows o'er the mead, + Now magnified in mystery, lead + Great revolutions to her heed. + And leaning out, the night o'erhead, + Wind-tossed in many a shining thread, + Hung one long scarf of glittering brede. + + Then as it drew its streamers there, + And furled its sails to fill and flaunt + Along fresh firmaments of air + When ancient morn renewed his chant,-- + She sighed in thinking on the plant + Drooping so languidly aslant; + Fancied some fierce noon's forest-haunt + Where wild red things loll forth and pant, + Their golden antlers wave, and still + Sigh for a shower that shall distil + The largess gracious nights do grant. + + The oleanders in the South + Drape gray hills with their rose, she thought, + The yellow-tasselled broom through drouth + Bathing in half a heaven is caught. + Jasmine and myrtle flowers are sought + By winds that leave them fragrance-fraught. + To them the wild bee's path is taught, + The crystal spheres of rain are brought, + Beside them on some silent spray + The nightingales sing night away, + The darkness wooes them in such sort. + + But this, close shut beneath a roof, + Knows not the night, the tranquil spell, + The stillness of the wildwood ouphe, + The magic dropped on moor and fell. + No cool dew soothes its fiery shell, + Nor any star, a red sardel, + Swings painted there as in a well. + Dyed like a stream of muscadel + No white-skinned snake coils in its cup + To drink its soul of sweetness up, + A honeyed hermit in his cell. + + No humming-bird in emerald coat, + Shedding the light, and bearing fain + His ebon spear, while at his throat + The ruby corselet sparkles plain, + On wings of misty speed astain + With amber lustres, hangs amain, + And tireless hums his happy strain; + Emperor of some primeval reign, + Over the ages sails to spill + The luscious juice of this, and thrill + Its very heart with blissful pain. + + As if the flowers had taken flight + Or as the crusted gems should shoot + From hidden hollows, or as the light + Had blossomed into prisms to flute + Its secret that before was mute, + Atoms where fire and tint dispute, + No humming-birds here hunt their fruit. + No burly bee with banded suit + Here dusts him, no full ray by stealth + Sifts through it stained with warmer wealth + Where fair fierce butterflies salute. + + Nor night nor day brings to my tree, + She thought, the free air's choice extremes, + But yet it grows as joyfully + And floods my chamber with its beams, + So that some tropic land it seems + Where oranges with ruddy gleams, + And aloes, whose weird flowers the creams + Of long rich centuries one deems, + Wave through the softness of the gloom,-- + And these may blush a deeper bloom + Because they gladden so my dreams. + + The sudden street-lights in moresque + Broke through her tender murmuring, + And on her ceiling shades grotesque + Reeled in a bacchanalian swing. + Then all things swam, and like a ring + Of bubbles welling from a spring + Breaking in deepest coloring + Flower-spirits paid her minist'ring. + Sleep, fusing all her senses, soon + Fanned over her in drowsy rune + All night long a pomegranate wing. + + * * * * * + + +THE PRAIRIE STATE. + + +On the head-waters of the Wabash, near Lake Erie, we first meet with +those grassy plains to which the early French explorers of the West gave +the name of Prairies. In Southern Michigan, they become more frequent; +in the State of Indiana, still more so; and when we arrive in Illinois, +we find ourselves in the Prairie State proper, three-quarters of its +territory being open meadow, or prairie. Southern Wisconsin is partly of +this character, and, on crossing the Mississippi, most of the surface of +both Iowa and Minnesota is also prairie. + +Illinois, with little exception, is one vast prairie,--dotted, it is +true, with groves, and intersected with belts of timber, but still one +great open plain. This State, then, being the type of the prairie lands, +a sketch of its history, political, physical, and agricultural, will +tolerably well represent that of the whole prairie region. + +The State of Illinois was originally part of Florida, and belonged to +Spain, by the usual tenure of European title in the sixteenth century, +when the King of France or Spain was endowed by His Holiness with half +a continent; the rights of the occupants of the soil never for a moment +being considered. So the Spaniard, in 1541, having planted his flag at +the mouth of the Mississippi, became possessed of the whole of the vast +region watered by its tributary streams, and Illinois and Wisconsin +became Spanish colonies, and all their native inhabitants vassals of His +Most Catholic Majesty. The settlement of the country was, however, +never attempted by the Spaniards, who devoted themselves to their more +lucrative colonies in South America. + +The French missionaries and fur-traders found their way from Canada into +these parts at an early day; and in 1667 Robert de la Salle made his +celebrated explorations, in which he took possession of the territory of +Illinois in behalf of the French crown. And here we may remark, that the +relations of the Jesuits and early explorers give a delightful picture +of the native inhabitants of the prairies. Compared with their savage +neighbors, the Illini seem to have been a favored people. The climate +was mild, and the soil so fertile as to afford liberal returns even to +their rude husbandry; the rivers and lakes abounded in fish and fowl; +the groves swarmed with deer and turkeys,--bustards the French called +them, after the large gallinaceous bird which they remembered on the +plains of Normandy; and the vast expanse of the prairies was blackened +by herds of wild cattle, or buffaloes. The influence of this fair and +fertile land seems to have been felt by its inhabitants. They came to +meet Father Marquette, offering the calumet, brilliant with many-colored +plumes, with the gracious greeting,--"How beautiful is the sun, O +Frenchman, when thou comest to us! Thou shalt enter in peace all our +dwellings." A very different reception from that offered by the stern +savages of Jamestown and Plymouth to John Smith and Miles Standish! +So, in peace and plenty, remained for many years this paradise in the +prairies. + +About the year 1700, Illinois was included in Louisiana, and came under +the sway of Louis XIV., who, in 1712, presented to Anthony Crozat the +whole territory of Louisiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin,--a truly royal +gift! + +The fortunate recipient, however, having spent vast sums upon the +territory without any returns, surrendered his grant to the crown a +few years afterwards; and a trading company, called the Company of the +Indies, was got up by the famous John Law, on the basis of these lands. +The history of that earliest of Western land-speculations is too well +known to need repetition; suffice it to say, that it was conducted upon +a scale of magnificence in comparison with which our modern imitations +in 1836 and 1856 were feeble indeed. A monument of it stood not many +years ago upon the banks of the Mississippi, in the ruins of Fort +Chartres, which was built by Law when at the height of his fortune, at +a cost of several millions of livres, and which toppled over into the +river in a recent inundation. + +In 1759 the French power in North America was broken forever by Wolfe, +upon the Plains of Abraham; and in 1763, by the Treaty of Paris, all the +French possessions upon this continent were ceded to England, and the +territory of the Illinois became part of the British empire. + +Pontiac, the famous Ottawa chief, after fighting bravely on the French +side through the war, refused to be transferred with the territory; he +repaired to Illinois, where he was killed by a Peoria Indian. His tribe, +the Ottawas, with their allies, the Pottawattomies and Chippewas, +in revenge, made war upon the Peorias and their confederates, the +Kaskaskias and Cahoklas, in which contest these latter tribes were +nearly exterminated. + +At this time, the French population of Illinois amounted to about three +thousand persons, who were settled along the Mississippi and Illinois +rivers, where their descendants remain to this day, preserving a +well-defined national character in the midst of the great flood of +Anglo-American immigration which rolls around them. + +Illinois remained under British rule till the year 1778, when George +Rogers Clarke, with four companies of Virginia rangers, marched from +Williamsburg, a distance of thirteen hundred miles, through a hostile +wilderness, captured the British posts of Kaskaskia and Cahokia, and +annexed a territory larger than Great Britain to the new Republic. Many +of Colonel Clarke's rangers, pleased with the beauty and fertility of +the country, settled in Illinois; but the Indians were so numerous and +hostile, that the settlers were obliged to live in fortified stations, +or block-houses, and the population remained very scanty for many years. + +In 1809 Illinois was made into a separate Territory, and Ninian Edwards +appointed its first Governor. + +During the War of 1812, Tecumseh, an Indian chief of remarkable ability, +endeavored to form a coalition of all the tribes against the Americans, +but with only partial success. He inflicted severe losses upon them, +but was finally defeated and slain at the Battle of the Thames, leaving +behind him the reputation of being the greatest hero and noblest patriot +of his race. + +In 1818, Illinois, then having a population of about forty-five +thousand, was admitted into the Union. The State was formed out of that +territory which by the Ordinance of 1787 was dedicated to freedom; but +there was a strong party in the State who wished for the introduction +of slavery, and in order to effect this it was necessary to call a +convention to amend the Constitution. On this arose a desperate contest +between the two principles, and it ended in the triumph of freedom. +Among those opposed to the introduction of slavery were Morris Birkbeck, +Governor Coles, David Blackwell, Judge Lockwood, and Daniel P. Cook. +It was a fitting memorial of the latter, that the County of Cook, +containing the great commercial city of Chicago, should bear his name. +The names of the pro-slavery leaders we will leave to oblivion. + +In 1824 the lead mines near Galena began to be worked to advantage, +and thousands of persons from Southern Illinois and Missouri swarmed +thither. The Illinoisans ran up the river in the spring, worked in the +mines during the summer, and returned to their homes down the river in +the autumn,--thus resembling in their migrations the fish so common in +the Western waters, called the Sucker. It was also observed that great +hordes of uncouth ruffians came up to the mines from Missouri, and it +was therefore said that she had vomited forth all her worst population. +Thenceforth the Missourians were called "Pukes," and the people of +Illinois "Suckers." + +From 1818 to 1830, the commerce of the State made but small progress. +At this time, there were one or two small steamboats upon the Illinois +River, but most of the navigation was carried on in keel-boats. The +village merchants were mere retailers; they purchased no produce, except +a few skins and furs, and a little beeswax and honey. The farmers along +the rivers did their own shipping,--building flat-boats, which, having +loaded with corn, flour, and bacon, they would float down to New +Orleans, which was the only market accessible to them. The voyage was +long, tedious, and expensive, and when the farmer arrived, he found +himself in a strange city, where all were combined against him, and +often he was cheated out of his property,--returning on foot by a long +and dangerous journey to a desolate farm, which had been neglected +during his absence. Thus two crops were sometimes lost in taking one to +market. + +The manners and customs of the people were simple and primitive. The +costume of the men was a raccoon-skin cap, linsey hunting-shirt, +buck-skin leggings and moccasons, with a butcher-knife in the belt. +The women wore cotton or woollen frocks, striped with blue dye and +Turkey-red, and spun, woven, and made with their own hands; they went +barefooted and bareheaded, except on Sundays, when they covered the head +with a cotton handkerchief. It is told of a certain John Grammar, for +many years a representative from Union County, and a man of some note +in the State councils, though he could neither read nor write, that in +1816, when he was first elected, lacking the necessary apparel, he and +his sons gathered a large quantity of hazel-nuts, which they took to +the nearest town and sold for enough blue strouding to make a suit of +clothes. The pattern proved to be scanty, and the women of the household +could only get out a very bob-tailed coat and leggings. With these Mr. +Grammar started for Kaskaskia, the seat of government, and these he +continued to wear till the passage of an appropriation bill enabled him +to buy a civilized pair of breeches. + +The distinctions in manners and dress between the higher and lower +classes were more marked than at present; for while John Grammar wore +blue strouding, we are told that Governor Edwards dressed in fine +broadcloth, white-topped boots, and a gold-laced cloak, and rode about +the country in a fine carriage, driven by a negro. + +In those days justice was administered without much parade or ceremony. +The judges held their courts mostly in log houses or in the bar-rooms of +taverns, fitted up with a temporary bench for the judge, and chairs for +the lawyers and jurors. At the first Circuit Court in Washington County, +held by Judge John Reynolds, the sheriff, on opening the court, went out +into the yard, and said to the people, "Boys, come in; our John is going +to hold court." The judges were unwilling to decide questions of law, +preferring to submit everything to the jury, and seldom gave them +instructions, if they could avoid it. A certain judge, being ambitious +to show his learning, gave very pointed directions to the jury, but +they could not agree on a verdict. The judge asked the cause of their +difference, when the foreman answered with great simplicity,--"Why, +Judge, this 'ere's the difficulty: the jury wants to know whether that +'ar what you told us, when we went out, was r'aly the law, or whether it +was on'y jist your notion." + +In the spring of 1831, Black Hawk, a Sac chief, dissatisfied with the +treaty by which his tribe had been removed across the Mississippi, +recrossed the river at the head of three or four hundred warriors, and +drove away the white settlers from his old lands near the mouth of the +Rock River. This was considered an invasion of the State, and Governor +Reynolds called for volunteers. Fifteen hundred men answered the +summons, and the Indians were driven out. The next spring, however, +Black Hawk returned with a larger force, and commenced hostilities by +killing some settlers on Indian Creek, not far from Ottawa. A large +force of volunteers was again called out, but in the first encounter the +whites were beaten, which success encouraged the Sacs and Foxes so much +that they spread themselves over the whole of the country between the +Mississippi and the Lake, and kept up a desultory warfare for three or +four months against the volunteer troops. About the middle of July, a +body of volunteers under General Henry of Illinois pursued the Indians +into Wisconsin, and by forced marches brought them to action near the +Mississippi, before the United States troops, under General Atkinson, +could come up. The Indians fought desperately, but were unable to stand +long before the courage and superior numbers of the whites. They escaped +across the river with the loss of nearly three hundred, killed in the +action, or drowned in the retreat. The loss of the Illinois volunteers +was about thirty, killed and wounded. + +This defeat entirely broke the power of the Sacs and Foxes, and they +sued for peace. Black Hawk, and some of his head men, were taken +prisoners, and kept in confinement for several months, when, after a +tour through the country, to show them the numbers and power of the +whites, they were set at liberty on the west side of the Mississippi. In +1840 Black Hawk died, at the age of eighty years, on the banks of the +great river which he loved so well. + +After the Black-Hawk War, the Indian title being extinguished, and the +country open to settlers, Northern Illinois attracted great attention, +and increased wonderfully in wealth and population. + +In 1830, the population of the State amounted to 157,445; in 1840, to +476,183; in 1850, to 851,470; in 1860, to 1,719,496. + + * * * * * + +Situated in the centre of the United States, the State of Illinois +extends from 37° to 42° 30' N. latitude, and from 10° 47' to 14° 26' W. +longitude from Washington. The State is 378 miles long from North to +South, and 212 miles broad from East to West. Its area is computed at +55,408 square miles, or 35,459,200 acres, less than two millions of +which are called swamp lands, the remaining thirty-three millions being +tillable land of unsurpassed fertility. + +The State of Illinois forms the lower part of that slope which embraces +the greater part of Indiana, and of which Lake Michigan, with its +shores, forms the upper part. At the lowest part of this slope, and of +the State, is the city of Cairo, situated about 350 feet above the +level of the Gulf of Mexico, at the confluence of the Ohio and the +Mississippi; hence, the highest place in Illinois being only 800 feet +above the level of the sea, it will appear that the whole State, though +containing several hilly sections, is a pretty level plain, being, with +the exception of Delaware and Louisiana, the flattest country in the +Union. + +The State contains about twenty-five considerable streams, and brooks +and rivulets innumerable. There are no large lakes within its borders, +though it has some sixty miles of Lake Michigan for its boundary on the +east. Small clear lakes and ponds abound, particularly in the northern +portion of the State. + +As to the quality of the soil, Illinois is divided as follows:-- + +First, the alluvial land on the margins of the rivers, and extending +back from half a mile to six or eight miles. This soil is of +extraordinary fertility, and, wherever it is elevated, makes the best +farming land in the State. Where it is low, and exposed to inundations, +it is very unsafe to attempt its cultivation. The most extensive tract +of this kind is the so-called American Bottom, which received this name +when it was the western boundary of the United States. It extends from +the junction of the Kaskaskia and Mississippi, along the latter, to the +mouth of the Missouri, containing about 288,000 acres. + +Secondly, the table-land, fifty to a hundred feet higher than the +alluvial; it consists principally of prairies, which, according to their +respectively higher or lower situations, are either dry or marshy. + +Thirdly, the hilly sections of the State, which, consisting alternately +of wood and prairie, are not, on the whole, as fertile as either the +alluvial or the table-land. + +There are no mountains in Illinois; but in the southern as well as the +northern part, there are a few hills. Near the banks of the principal +rivers the ground is elevated into bluffs, on which may be still found +the traces left by water, which was evidently once much higher than +it now is; whence it is inferred, that, where the fertile plains of +Illinois now extend, there must once have been a vast sheet of water, +the mud deposited by which formed the soil, thus accounting for the +great fertility of the prairies. + + * * * * * + +As we have said, the entire area of Illinois seems at one period to +have been an ocean-bed, which has not since been disturbed by any +considerable upheaval. The present irregularities of the surface are +clearly traceable to the washing out and carrying away of the earth. The +Illinois River has washed out a valley about two hundred and fifty feet +deep, and from one and a half to six miles wide. The perfect regularity +of the beds of mountain limestone, sandstone, and coal, as they are +found protruding from the bluffs on each side of this valley, on the +same levels, is pretty conclusive evidence that the valley itself owes +its existence to the action of water. That the channels of the rivers +have been gradually sunken, we may distinctly see by the shores of the +Upper Mississippi, where are walls of rock, rising perpendicularly, +which extend from Lake Pepin to below the mouth of the Wisconsin, as if +they were walls built of equal height by the hand of man. Wherever the +river describes a curve, walls may be found on the convex side of it. + +The upper coal formation occupies three-fifths of the State, commencing +at 41° 12' North latitude, where, as also along the Mississippi, whose +banks it touches between the places of its junction with the Illinois +and Missouri rivers, it is enclosed by a narrow layer of calcareous +coal. The shores of Lake Michigan, and that narrow strip of land, which, +commencing near them, runs along the northern bank of the Illinois +towards its southwestern bend, until it meets Rock River at its mouth, +belong to the Devonian system. The residue of the northern part of the +State consists of Silurian strata, which, containing the rich lead mines +of Galena in the northwest corner of the State, rise at intervals into +conical hills, giving the landscape a character different from that of +the middle or southern portion. Scattered along the banks of rivers, and +in the middle of prairies, are frequently found large masses of granite +and other primitive rocks. Since the nearest beds of primitive rocks +first appear in Minnesota and the northern part of Wisconsin, their +presence here can be accounted for only by assuming that at the time +this region was covered with water they were floated down from the +North, enclosed and supported in masses of ice, which, melting, allowed +the rocks to sink to the bottom. A still further proof of the presence +of the ocean here in former times is to be found in the sea-shells which +occur upon many of the higher knolls and bluffs west of the Mississippi +in Iowa. + +Illinois contains probably more coal than any other State in the Union. +It is mined at a small depth below the surface, and crops out upon the +banks of most of the streams in the middle of the State. These mines +have been very imperfectly worked till within a few years; but it is +found, that, as the work goes deeper, the quality of the coal improves, +and in some of the later excavations is equal to the best coals of Ohio +and Pennsylvania, and will undoubtedly prove a source of immense wealth +to the State. + +The two northwestern counties of the State form a part of the richest +and most extensive lead region in the world. During the year 1855, the +product of these mines, shipped from the single port of Galena, was +430,365 pigs of lead, worth $1,732,219.02. + +Copper has been found in large quantities in the northern counties, and +also in the southern portion of the State. Some of the zinc ores are +found in great quantities at the lead mines near Galena, but have not +yet been utilized. Silver has been found in St. Clair County, whence +Silver Creek has derived its name. It is said that in early times the +French sunk a shaft here, from which they obtained large quantities of +the metal. Iron is found in many parts of the State, and the ores have +been worked to considerable extent. + +Among other valuable mineral products may be mentioned porcelain and +potter's clay, fire clay, fuller's earth, limestone of many varieties, +sandstone, marble, and salt springs. + + * * * * * + +Illinois has an average temperature, which, if compared with that of +Europe, corresponds to that of Middle Germany; its winters are more +severe than those of Copenhagen, and its summers as warm as those of +Milan or Palermo. Compared with other States of the Union, Northern +Illinois possesses a temperature similar to that of Southern New York, +while the temperature of Southern Illinois will not differ much from +that of Kentucky or Virginia. By observations of the thermometer during +twenty years, in the southern part of the State, on the Mississippi, the +mercury, once in that period, fell to-25°, and four times it rose above +100°, Fahrenheit. + +The prevailing winds are either western or southeastern. The severest +storms are those coming from the west, which traverse the entire space +between the Rocky Mountains and the Atlantic coast in forty-eight hours. + +There are on an average eighty-nine rainy days in the year; the quantity +of rain falling amounts to forty-two inches,--the smallest amount +being in January, and the largest in June. The average number of +thunder-storms in a year is forty-nine; of clear days, one hundred and +thirty-seven; of changeable days, one hundred and eighty-three; and of +days without sunshine, forty-five. + + * * * * * + +The vegetation of the State forms the connecting link between +the Flora of the Northeastern States and that of the Upper +Mississippi,--exhibiting, besides the plants common to all the States +lying between the Mississippi and the Atlantic Ocean, such as are, +properly speaking, natives of the Western prairies, not being found +east of the Alleghany Mountains. Immense grassy plains, interlaced with +groves, which are found also along the watercourses, cover two-thirds of +the entire area of the State in the North, while the southern part is +garnished with heavy timber. + +No work which we have seen gives so good an account of the Flora of the +prairies as the one by Frederick Gerhard, called "Illinois as it is." We +have been indebted to this work for a good deal of valuable matter, and +shall now make some further extracts from it. + +"Before we finally turn our backs on the last scattered houses of the +village, we find both sides of the road lined with ugly worm-fences, +which are overtopped by the various species of Helianthus, Thistles, +Biennial Gaura, and the Illinoisian Bell-flower with cerulean blossoms, +and other tall weeds. Here may also be found the coarse-haired +_Asclepias tuberosa_, with fiery red umbels, the strong-scented _Monarda +fistulosa_, and an umbelliferous plant, the grass-like, spiculated +leaves of which recall to mind the Southern Agaves, the _Eryngo._ Among +these children of Nature rises the civilized plant, the Indian Corn, +with its stalks nearly twelve feet high." + +"Having now arrived at the end of the cultivated lands, we enter upon +the dry prairies, extending up the bluffs, where we meet the small +vermilion Sorrel _(Rumex acetosella)_ and Mouse-ear, which, however, do +not reside here as foreigners, but as natives, like many other plants +that remind the European of his native country, as, for instance, the +Dandelion _(Taraxacum officinale)_; a kind of Rose, _(Rosa lucida,)_ +with its sweet-scented blossoms, has a great predilection for this dry +soil. With surprise we meet here also with many plants with hairy, +greenish-gray leaves and stalk-covers, as, for instance, the _Onosmodium +molle, Hieracium longipilum, Pycnanthemum pilosum, Chrysopsis villosa, +Amorpha canescens, Tephrosia Virginiana, Lithospermum canescens;_ +between which the immigrated Mullein _(Verbuscum thapsus)_ may be found. +The pebbly fragments of the entire slope, which during spring-time +were sparingly covered with dwarfish herbs, such as the _Androsace +occidentalis, Draba Caroliniana, Plantago Virginica, Scutellaria +parvula,_ are now crowded with plants of taller growth and variegated +blossoms. _Rudbeckia hirta_, with its numerous radiating blossoms of a +lively yellow, and the closely allied _Echinacea purpurea_, whose long +purple rays hang down from a ruddy hemispherical disc, are the most +remarkable among plants belonging to the genus _Compositoe_, which +blossom early in summer; in the latter part of summer follow innumerable +plants of the different species,_Liatris, Vernonia, Aster, Solidago, +Helianthus, etc."_ + +"We approach a sinuous chasm of the bluffs, having better soil and +underwood, which, thin at first, increases gradually in density. +Low bushes, hardly a foot high, are formed by the American Thistle, +_(Ceanothus Americanus,)_ a plant whose leaves were used instead of tea, +in Boston, during the Revolution. Next follow the Hazel-bush, _(Corylus +Americana,)_ the fiery-red _Castilleja coccinea,_ and the yellow +Canadian Louse-wort; the _Dipteracanthus strepens_, with great blue +funnel-shaped blossoms, and the _Gerardia pedicularia_, are fond of +such places; and where the bushes grow higher, and the _Rhus glabra, +Zanthoxylum Americanum, Ptelea trifoliata, Staphylea trifolia,_ together +with _Ribes-Rubus Pyrus, Cornus, and Cratoegus,_ form an almost +impenetrable thicket, surrounded and garlanded by the round-leaved, +rough Bindweed, _(Smilax rotundifolia,)_ and _Dioscorea villosa_, the +Climbing Rose, _(Rosa setigera,) Celastrus scandens_, remarkable for its +beautiful red fruits, _Clematis Virginiana, Polygonum, Convolvulus, and +other vines, these weedy herbs attempt to overtop the bushes." + +"We now enter upon the illimitable prairie which lies before us, the +fertile prairie, in whose undulating surface the moisture is retained; +this waits for cultivation, and will soon be deprived of its flowery +attire, and bear plain, but indispensable grain. Those who have not yet +seen such a prairie should not imagine it like a cultivated meadow, but +rather a heaving sea of tall herbs and plants, decking it with every +variety of color. + +"In the summer, the yellow of the large _Composite_ will predominate, +intermingled with the blue of the Tradescantias, the fiery red of the +Lilies, (_Lilium Philadelphicum_ and _Lilium Canadense_,) the purple of +the Phlox, the white of the _Cacalia tuberosa, Melanthium Virginicum,_ +and the umbelliferous plants. In spring, small-sized plants bloom here, +such as the Anemone, with its blue and white blossoms, the Palmated +Violet, the Ranunculus, which are the first ornaments of the prairies in +spring; then follow the Esculent Sea-Onion, _Pentaloplius longiflorus, +Lithospermum hirtum, Cynthia Virginica,_ and _Baptisia leucophaea_. +As far as the eye reaches, no house nor tree can be seen; but where +civilization has come, the farmer has planted small rows of the quickly +growing Black Acacia, which affords shelter from the sun to his cattle +and fuel for his hearth." + +"We now enter the level part of the forest, which has a rich black soil. +Great sarmentous plants climb here up to the tops of the trees: wild +Grapes, the climbing, poisonous Sumach, (_Rhus toxicodendron,_) and the +vine-like Cinque-foil, which transforms withered, naked trunks into +green columns, Bignonias, with their brilliant scarlet trumpet-flowers, +are the most remarkable. The _Thuja occidentalis,_ which may be met +with in European gardens, stands in mournful solitude on the margins of +pools; here and there an isolalod Cedar, (_Juniperus Virginiana_) +and the low Box-tree, (_Taxus Canadensis_) are in Illinois the only +representatives of the evergreens, forests of which first appear in the +northern part of Wisconsin and Minnesota." + +"Flowers of the most brilliant hues bedeck the rivers' banks; above +all, the _Lobelia cardinalis_ and _Lobelia syphilitica_, of the deepest +carmine and cerulean tinge, the yellow _Cassia Marilandica_, and the +delicate _Rosa blanda_, a rose without thorns; also the _Scrophularia +nodosa_." + +"On the marshy ground thrive the _Iris versicolor, Asclepias incarnata_, +the Primrose-tree, Liver-wort, the tall _Physostegia Virginiana_, with +rosy-red blossoms, and the _Helenium autumnale_, in which the yellow +color predominates. In spring, the dark violet blossom of the _Amorpha +fruticosa_ diffuses its fragrance." + +"Entering a boat on the river, where we cannot touch the bottom with the +oar, we perceive a little white flower waving to and fro, supported +by long spiral halms between straight, grass-like leaves. This is the +_Vallisneria spiralis_, a remarkable plant, which may be also met with +in Southern Europe, especially in the Canal of Languedoc, and regarding +the fructification of which different opinions prevail." + +"Nearer to the land, we observe similar grass-like leaves, but with +little yellow stellated flowers: these belong to the order of _Schollera +graminea_. Other larger leaves belong to the Amphibious Polygony, and +different species of the _Potamogeton,_ the ears of whose blossoms rise +curiously above the surface of the water. Clearing our way through a +row of tall swamp weeds, _Zizania aquatica, Scirpus lacustris, Scirpus +pungens_, among which the white flowers of _Sparganium ramosum_ and +_Sagittaria variabilis_ are conspicuous, we steer into a large inlet +entirely covered with the broad leaves of the _Nymphaea odorala_ and the +_Nelumbium luteum_, of which the former waves its beautiful flower on +the surface of the river, while the latter, the queen, in fact, of +the waters, proudly raises her magnificent crown upon a perpendicular +footstalk. On the opposite bank, the evening breeze lifts the triangular +leaves and rosy-red flowers of the Marsh-Mallow, overhung by Gray +Willows and the Silver-leaved Maple and the Red Maple, on which a flock +of white herons have alighted." + +In all the rivers and swamps of the Northwest grows the Wild Rice, +(_Zizania aquatica,_) a plant which was' formerly very important to the +Indians as food, and now attracts vast flocks of waterfowl to feed upon +it in the season. In autumn the squaws used to go in their canoes +to these natural rice-fields, and, bending the tall stalks over the +gunwale, beat out the heads of grain with their paddles into the canoe. +It is mentioned among the dainties at Hiawatha's wedding-feast:-- + + "Haunch of deer, and hump of bison, + Yellow cakes of the Momdamin, + And the wild rice of the river." + +The Fruits of the forest are Strawberries, Blackberries, Raspberries, +Gooseberries, in some barren spots Whortleberries, Mulberries, +Grapes, Wild Plums and Cherries, Crab-Apples, the Persimmon, Pawpaw, +Hickory-nuts, Hazel-nuts, and Walnuts. + +The Timber-trees are,--of the Oaks, _Quercus alba, Quercus macrocarpa, +Quercus tinctoria, Quercus imbricaria,--Hard and Soft Maples_,--and of +the Hickories, _Carya alba, Carya tomentosa, and Carya amara_. Other +useful timber-trees are the Ash, Cherry, several species of Elm, Linden, +and Ironwood (_Carpinus Americana_). + +Of Medicinal Plants, we find _Cassia Marilandica, Polygala Senega, +Sanguinaria Canadensis, Lobelia inflata, Phytolacca decandra, +Podophyllum peliatum, Sassafras officinale_. + +Various species of the Vine are native here, and the improved varieties +succeed admirably in the southern counties. + +The early travellers in this region mention the great herds of wild +cattle which roamed over the prairies in those times, but the last +Buffalo on the east side of the Mississippi was killed in 1832; and now +the hunter who would see this noble game must travel some hundreds of +miles west, to the head-waters of the Kansas or the Platte. The Elk, +which was once so common in Illinois, has also receded before the white +man, and the Deer is fast following his congener. On the great prairies +south of Chicago, where, fifteen years ago, one might find twenty deer +in a day's tramp, not one is now to be seen. Two species of Hare occur +here, and several Tree Squirrels, the Red, Black, Gray, Mottled, and the +Flying; besides these, there are two or three which live under ground. +The Beaver is nearly or quite extinct, but the Otter remains, and the +Musk-Rat abounds on all the river-banks and marshes. + +Of carnivorous animals, we have the Panther and Black Bear in the wooded +portions of the State, though rare; the Lynx, the Gray and Black Wolf, +and the Prairie Wolf; the Skunk, the Badger, the Woodchuck, the Raccoon, +and, in the southern part of the State, the Opossum. + +Mr. Lapham of Wisconsin has published a list of the birds of that State, +which will also answer for Northern Illinois. He enumerates two hundred +and ninety species, which, we think, is below the number which visit the +central parts of Illinois. From the central position of this State, +most of the birds of the United States are found here at one season or +another. For instance, among the rapacious birds, we have the three +Eagles which visit America, the White-Headed, the Washington, and +the Golden or Royal Eagle. Of Hawks and Falcons, fourteen or fifteen +species, among which are the beautiful Swallow-tailed Hawk, and that +noble falcon, the Peregrine. Ten or twelve Owls, among which, as a rare +visitor, we find the Great Gray Owl, (_Syrnium cinereum_,) and the Snowy +Owl, which is quite common in the winter season on the prairies, preying +upon grouse and hares. Of the Vultures, we have two, as summer visitors, +the Turkey-Buzzard and the Black Vulture. + +Of omnivorous birds, sixteen or eighteen species, among which is the +Raven, which here takes the place of the Crow, the two species not being +able to live together, as the stronger robber drives away the weaker. Of +the insectivorous birds, some sixty or seventy species are found here, +among which is the Mocking-Bird, in the middle and southern districts. +Thirty-five to forty species of granivorous birds, among which we +occasionally find in winter that rare Arctic bird, the Evening Grosbeak. +Of the _Zygodachyli_, fourteen species, among which is found the Paquet, +in the southern part of the State. _Tenuirostres_, five species. Of the +Kingfishers, one species. Swallows and Goat-suckers, nine species. Of +the Pigeons, two, the Turtle-Dove and the Passenger Pigeon, of which the +latter visit us twice a year, in immense flocks. + +Of the gallinaceous birds, the Turkey, which is found in the heavy +timber in the river bottoms; the Quail, which has become very abundant +all over the State, within twenty years, following, it would seem, the +march of civilization and settlement; the Ruffed Grouse, abundant in the +timber, but never seen on the prairie; the Pinnated Grouse, or Prairie +Hen, always found on the open plains. These birds increased very much in +number after the settlement of the State, owing probably to the increase +of food for them, and the decrease of their natural enemies, the prairie +wolves; but since the building of railroads, so many are killed to +supply the demands of New York and other Eastern cities, that they are +now decreasing very rapidly, and in a very few years the sportsman will +have to cross the Mississippi to find a pack of grouse. The Sharp-tailed +Grouse, an occasional visitor in winter from Wisconsin, is found in the +timbered country. + +Of wading birds, from forty to fifty species, among which the Sand-Hill +Crane is very abundant, and the Great White or Whooping Crane very rare, +although supposed by some authors to be the same bird in different +stages of plumage. + +Of the lobe-footed birds, seven species, of which is the rare and +beautiful Wilson's Phalarope, which breeds in the wet prairies near +Chicago. + +Of web-footed birds, about forty species, among which are two Swans and +five Geese. Among the Ducks, the Canvas-Back is found; but, owing to the +want of its favorite food in the Chesapeake, the _Vallisneria_, it is, +in our waters, a very ordinary duck, as an article of food. + +The waters of Illinois abound with fish, of which class we enumerate,-- + + Species Species + + Percidae, 3 Pomotis, 2 + Labrax, 3 Cottus, 2 + Lucioperca, 2 Corvina, 1 + Huro, 1 Pimelodus, 5 + Centrarchus, 3 Leuciscus, 6 + Hydrargea, 2 Corregomus, 3 + Esox, 3 Amia, 1 + Hyodon, 1 Lepidosteus, 3 + Lota, 2 Accipenser, 3 + +Of these, the Perch, White, Black, and Rock Bass, the Pike-Perch, the +Catfish, the Pike and Muskalonge, the Whitefish, the Lake Trout, and the +Sturgeon are valuable fishes for the table. + +Of the class of Reptiles, we have among the Lizards the Mud-Devil, +(_Menopoma Alleghaniensis_,) which grows in the sluggish streams to +the length of two feet; also _Triton dorsalis_, _Necturus lateralis_, +_Ambystoma punctata_. + +Of the Snakes, we find three venomous species, the Rattlesnake, the +Massasauga, and the Copper-Head. The largest serpents are the Black +Snake, five feet long, and the Milk Snake, from five to six feet in +length. + +Among the Turtles is _Emys picta_, _Chelonura serpentina_, and _Cistuda +clausa_. + +Of the Frogs, we have _Rana sylvatica_, _Rana palustris_, and _Rana +pipiens_, nearly two feet long, and loud-voiced in proportion,--a +Bull-Frog, indeed! + +Various theories and speculations have been formed as to the origin of +the prairies. One of them, is, that the forests which formerly occupied +these plains were swept away at some remote period by fire; and that the +annual fires set by the Indians have continued this state of things. +Another theory is, that the violent winds which sweep over them have +prevented the growth of trees; a third, that want of rain forbids their +growth; a fourth, that the agency of water has produced the effect; +and lastly, a learned professor at the last meeting of the Scientific +Convention put forth his theory, which was, that the real cause of the +absence of trees from the prairies is the mechanical condition of the +soil, which is, he thinks, too fine,--a coarse, rocky soil being, in his +estimation, a necessary condition of the growth of trees. + +Most of these theories seem to be inconsistent with the plain facts of +the case. First, we know that these prairies existed in their present +condition when the first white man visited them, two hundred years ago; +and also that similar treeless plains exist in South America and Central +Africa, and have so existed ever since those countries were known. We +are told by travellers in those regions, that the natives have the same +custom of annually burning the dry grass and herbage for the same reason +that our Indians did it, and that the early white settlers kept up the +custom,--namely, to promote the growth of young and tender feed for the +wild animals which the former hunted and the cattle which the latter +live by grazing. + +Another fact, well known to all settlers in the prairie, is, that it is +only necessary to keep out the fires by fences or ditches, and a thick +growth of trees will spring up on the prairies. Many fine groves now +exist all over Illinois, where nothing grew twenty years ago but the +wild grasses and weeds; and we have it on record, that locust-seed, sown +on the prairie near Quincy, in four years produced trees with a diameter +of trunk of four to six inches, and in seven years had become large +enough for posts and rails. So with fruit-trees, which nowhere flourish +with more strength and vigor than in this soil,--too much so, indeed, +since they are apt to run to wood rather than fruit. Moreover, the soil +in the groves and on the river bottoms, where trees naturally grow, is +the same, chemically and mechanically, as that of the open prairie; the +same winds sweep over both, and the same rain falls upon both; so that +it would seem that the absence of trees cannot be attributed wholly to +fire, water, wind, or soil, but is owing to a combination of two or more +of those agencies. + +But from whatever cause the prairies originated, they have no doubt been +perpetuated by the fires which annually sweep over their surface. Where +the soil is too wet to sustain a heavy growth of grass, there is no +prairie. Timber is found along the streams, almost invariably,--and, +where the banks are high and dry, will usually be found on the east bank +of those streams whose course is north and south. This is caused by the +fact that the prevailing winds are from the west, and bring the fire +with them till it reaches the stream, which forms a barrier and protects +the vegetation on the other side. + +If any State in the Union is adapted to agriculture, and the various +branches of rural economy, such as stock-raising, wool-growing, or +fruit-culture, it must surely be Illinois, where the fertile natural +meadows invite the plough, without the tedious process of clearing off +timber, which, in many parts of the country, makes it the labor of a +lifetime to bring a farm under good cultivation. Here, the farmer who is +satisfied with such crops as fifty bushels of corn to the acre, eighteen +of wheat, or one hundred of potatoes, has nothing to do but to plough, +sow, and reap; no manure, and but little attention, being necessary +to secure a yield like this. Hence a man of very small means can soon +become independent on the prairies. If, however, one is ambitious of +raising good crops, and doing the best he can with his land, let him +manure liberally and cultivate diligently; nowhere will land pay for +good treatment better than here. + +Mr. J. Ambrose Wight, of Chicago, the able editor of the "Prairie +Farmer," writes as follows:-- + +"From an acquaintance with Illinois lands and Illinois farmers, of +eighteen years, during thirteen of which I have been editor of the +'Prairie Farmer,' I am prepared to give the following as the rates of +produce which may be had per acre, with ordinary culture:-- + + Winter Wheat, 15 to 25 Bushels. + Spring " 10 to 20 " + Corn, 40 to 70 " + Oats, 40 to 60 " + Potatoes, 100 to 200 " + Grass, Timothy and Clover, 1-1/2 to 3 Tons. + +"_Ordinary culture_, on prairie lands, is not what is meant by the term +in the Eastern or Middle States. It means here, no manure, and commonly +but once, or at most twice, ploughing, on perfectly smooth land, with +long furrows, and no stones or obstructions; where two acres per day +is no hard job for one team. It is often but very poor culture, with +shallow ploughing, and without attention to weeds. I have known crops, +not unfrequently, far greater than these, with but little variation in +their treatment: say, 40 to 50 bushels of winter wheat, 60 to 80 of +oats, and 100 of Indian corn, or 300 of potatoes. _Good culture_, which +means rotation, deep ploughing, farms well stocked, and some manure +applied at intervals of from three to five years, would, in good +seasons, very often approach these latter figures." + +We will now give the results of a very detailed account of the +management of a farm of 240 acres, in Kane County, Illinois, an average +farm as to soil and situation, but probably much above the average in +cultivation,--at least, we should judge so from the intelligent and +business-like manner in which the account is kept; every crop having a +separate account kept with it in Dr. and Cr., to show the net profit or +loss of each. + +23 acres of Wheat, 30 bushels per acre, net profit $453.00 +17-1/2 " " on Corn ground, 22-1/2 " " " 278.50 +9-1/2 " Spring Wheat, 24 " " " 159.70 +2-1/2 " Winter Rye, 22-7/12 " " " 10.25 +5-1/2 " Barley, 33-1/4 " " " 32.55 +12 " Oats, 87-1/2 " " " 174.50 +28-1/2 " Corn, 60 " " " 638.73 +1 " Potatoes, 150 " " " 27.50 +103 Sheep, average weight of fleece, 3-1/2 lbs., " 177.83 +15 head of Cattle and one Colt " 103.00 +1500 lbs. Pork " 35.00 +Fruit, Honey, Bees, and Poultry " 73.75 +21 acres Timothy Seed, 4 bushels per acre, " 123.00 +-------- +$2287.31 + +A farm of this size, so situated, with the proper buildings and stock, +may, at the present price of land, be supposed to represent a capital of +$15,000--on which sum the above account gives an interest of over 15 per +cent. Is there any other part of the country where the same interest can +be realized on farming capital? + +But this farm of 240 acres is a mere retail affair to many farms in the +State. We will give some examples on a larger scale. + +"Winstead Davis came to Jonesboro', Illinois, from Tennessee, thirty +years ago, without means of any kind; now owns many thousand acres of +land, and has under cultivation, this year, from 2500 to 3000 acres." + +"W. Willard, native of Vermont, commenced penniless; now owns more than +10,000 acres of land, and cultivates 2000." + +"Jesse Funk, near Bloomington, Illinois, began the world thirty years +ago, at rail-splitting, at twenty-five cents the hundred. He bought +land, and raised cattle; kept increasing his lands and herds, till he +now owns 7000 acres of land, and sells over 840,000 worth of cattle and +hogs annually. + +"Isaac Funk, brother of the above, began in the same way, at the same +time. He has gone ahead of Jesse; for _he_ owns 27,000 acres of land, +has 4000 in cultivation, and his last year's sales of cattle amounted to +$65,000." + +It is evident that the brothers Funk are men of administrative talent; +they would have made a figure in Wall Street, could have filled cabinet +office at Washington, or, perhaps, could even have "kept a hotel." + +These are but specimens of the large-acred men of Illinois. Hundreds of +others there are, who farm on nearly the same scale. + +The great difficulty in carrying on farming operations on a large scale +in Illinois has always been the scarcity of labor. Land is cheap and +plenty, but labor scarce and dear: exactly the reverse of what obtains +in England, where land is dear and labor cheap. It must be evident that +a different kind of farming would be found here from that in use in +older countries. There, the best policy is to cultivate a few acres +well; here, it has been found more profitable to skim over a large +surface. But within a few years the introduction of labor-saving +machines has changed the conditions of farming, and has rendered it +possible to give good cultivation to large tracts of land with few men. +Many of the crops are now put in by machines, cultivated by machines, +and harvested by machine. If, as seems probable, the steam-plough +of Fawkes shall become a success, the revolution in farming will be +complete. Already some of the large farmers employ wind or steam power +in various ways to do the heavy work, such as cutting and grinding food +for cattle and hogs, pumping water, etc. + +Although the soil and climate of Illinois are well adapted to +fruit-culture, yet, from various causes, it has not, till lately, been +much attended to. The early settlers of Southern and Middle Illinois +were mostly of the Virginia race, Hoosiers,--who are a people of few +wants. If they have hog-meat and hominy, whiskey and tobacco, they are +content; they will not trouble themselves to plant fruit-trees. The +early settlers in the North were, generally, very poor men; they could +not afford to buy fruit-trees, for the produce of which they must wait +several years. Wheat, corn, and hogs were the articles which could be +soonest converted into money, and those they raised. Then the early +attempts at raising fruit were not very successful. The trees were +brought from the East, and were either spoiled by the way, or were +unsuited to this region. But the great difficulty has been the want of +drainage. Fruit-trees cannot be healthy with wet feet for several months +of the year, and this they are exposed to on these level lands. With +proper tile-draining, so that the soil shall be dry and mellow early in +the spring, we think that the apple, the pear, the plum, and the cherry +will succeed on the prairies anywhere in Illinois. The peach and the +grape flourish in the southern part of the State, already, with very +little care; in St. Clair County, the culture of the latter has been +carried on by the Germans for many years, and the average yield of +Catawba wine has been two hundred gallons per acre. The strawberry grows +wild all over the State, both in the timber and the prairie; and the +cultivated varieties give very fine crops. All the smaller fruits do +well here, and the melon family find in this soil their true home; they +are raised by the acre, and sold by the wagon-load, in the neighborhood +of Chicago. + +Stock-raising is undoubtedly the most profitable kind of farming on +the prairies, which are so admirably adapted to this species of rural +economy, and Illinois is already at the head of the cattle-breeding +States. There were shipped from Chicago in 1860, 104,122 head of live +cattle, and 114,007 barrels of beef. + +The Durham breed seems to be preferred by the best stock-farmers, and +they pay great attention to the purity of the race. A herd of one +hundred head of cattle raised near Urbanna, and averaging 1965 pounds +each, took the premium at the World's Fair in New York. Although the +Durhams are remarkable for their large size and early maturity, yet +other breeds are favorites with many farmers,--such as the Devons, the +Herefords, and the Holsteins, the first particularly,--for working +cattle, and for the quality of their beef. There is a sweetness about +the beef fattened upon these prairies which is not found elsewhere, and +is noticed by all travellers who have eaten of that meat at the best +Chicago hotels. + +In fact, Illinois is the paradise of cattle, and there is no sight more +beautiful, in its way, than one of those vast natural meadows in June, +dotted with the red and white cattle, standing belly-deep in rich grass +and gay-colored flowers, and almost too fat and lazy to whisk away +the flies. Even in winter they look comfortable, in their sheltered +barn-yard, surrounded by huge stacks of hay or long ranges of +corn-cribs, chewing the cud of contentment, and untroubled with any +thought of the inevitable journey to Brighton. + +Where corn is so plenty as it is in Illinois, of course hogs will be +plenty also. During the year 1860, two hundred and seventy-five thousand +porkers rode into Chicago by railroad, eighty-five thousand of which +pursued their journey, still living, to Eastern cities,--the balance +remaining behind to be converted into lard, bacon, and salt pork. + +The wholesale way of making beef and pork is this. All summer the cattle +are allowed to run on the prairie, and the hogs in the timber on the +river bottoms. In the autumn, when the corn is ripe, the cattle are +turned into one of those great fields, several hundred acres in extent, +to gather the crop; and after they have done, the hogs come in to pick +up what the cattle have left. + +Sheep do well on the prairies, particularly in the southern part of the +State, where the flocks require little or no shelter in winter. The +prairie wolves formerly destroyed many sheep; but since the introduction +of strychnine for poisoning those voracious animals, the sheep have been +very little troubled. + +Horses and mules are raised extensively, and in the northern counties, +where the Morgans and other good breeds have been introduced, the horses +are as good as in any State of the Union. Theory would predict this +result, since the horse is found always to come to his greatest +perfection in level countries,--as, for instance, the deserts of Arabia, +and the _llanos_ of South America. + +There are two articles in daily and indispensable use, for which the +Northern States have hitherto been dependent on the Southern: Sugar +and Cotton. With regard to the first, the introduction of the Chinese +Sugar-Cane has demonstrated that every farmer in the State can raise +his own sweetening. The experience of several years has proved that the +_Sorghum_ is a hardier plant than corn, and that it will be a sure crop +as far North as latitude 42° or 43°. + +An acre of good prairie will produce 18 tons of the cane, and each ton +gives 60 gallons of juice, which is reduced, by boiling, to 10 gallons +of syrup. This gives 180 gallons of syrup to the acre, worth from 40 to +50 cents a gallon,--say 40 cents, which will give 72 dollars for the +product of an acre of land; from which the expenses of cultivation being +deducted, with rent of land, etc., say 36 dollars, there will remain a +net profit of 36 dollars to the acre, besides the seed, and the fodder +which comes from a third part of the stalk, which is cut off before +sending the remainder to the mill. This is found to be the most +nutritious food that can be used for cattle and horses, and very +valuable for milch cows. These results Lave been obtained from Mr. Luce, +of Plainfield, Will County, who has lately built a steam-mill for making +the syrup from the cane which is raised by the farmers in that vicinity. +In this first year, he manufactured 12,500 gallons of syrup, which sells +readily at fifty cents a gallon. A quantity of it was refined at the +Chicago Sugar-Refinery, and the result was a very agreeable syrup, free +from the peculiar flavor which the home-made Sorghum-syrup usually +has. As yet, no experiments on a large scale have been made to obtain +crystallized sugar from the juice of this cane, it having been, so far, +used more economically in the shape of syrup. That it can be done, +however, is proved by the success of several persons who have tried it +in a small way. In the County of Vermilion, it is estimated that three +hundred thousand gallons of syrup were made in 1860. + +As to Cotton, since the building of the Illinois Central Railroad has +opened the southern part of the State to the world, and let in the +light upon that darkened Egypt, it is found that those people have +been raising their own cotton for many years, from the seed which they +brought with them into the State from Virginia and North Carolina. The +plant has become acclimated, and now ripens its seed in latitude 39° and +40°. Perhaps the culture may be carried still farther, so that cotton +may be raised all over the State. The heat of our summers is tropical, +but they are too short. If, however, the cotton-plant, like Indian corn +and the tomato, can be gradually induced to mature itself in four or +five months, the consequences of such a change can hardly be estimated. + +But whether or not it be possible to raise cotton and sugar profitably +in Illinois, that she is the great bread- and meat-producing State no +one can doubt; and in 1861 it happens that Cotton is King no longer, but +must yield his sceptre to Corn. + +The breadstuffs exported from the Northwest to Europe and to the Cotton +States will this year probably amount to more money than the whole +foreign export of cotton,--the crop which to some persons represents all +that the world contains of value. + + Probable export of Cotton in 1861, three-fourths + of the crop of 4,000,000 bales, 3,000,000 bales, + at $45 . . . . . . . . . $135,000,000 + Estimated export of Breadstuffs + to Europe . . . . . . . . $100,000,000 + Estimated export of Breadstuffs + to Southern States . . . . . . $45,000,000 + ------------ + $145,000,000 + +We are feeding Europe and the Cotton States, who pay us in gold; we +feed the Northern States, who pay us in goods; we are feeding our +starving brothers in Kansas, who have paid us beforehand, by their +heroic devotion to the cause of freedom. Let us hope that their troubles +are nearly over, and that, having passed through more hardships than +have fallen to the lot of any American community, they may soon enter +upon a career of prosperity as signal as have been their misfortunes, so +that the prairies of Kansas may, in their turn, assist in feeding the +world. + +Nothing has done so much for the rapid growth of Illinois as her canal +and railroads. + +As early as 1833 several railroad charters were granted by the +legislature; but the stock was not taken, and nothing was done until the +year 1836, when a vast system of internal improvements was projected, +intended "to be commensurate with the wants of the people,"--that is, +there was to be a railroad to run by every man's door. About thirteen +hundred miles of railroads were planned, a canal was to be built from +Chicago to the Illinois River at Peru, and several rivers were to be +made navigable. The cost of all this it was supposed would be about +eight millions of dollars, and the money was to be raised by loan. In +order that all might have the benefit of this system, it was provided +that two hundred thousand dollars should be distributed among those +counties where none of these improvements were made. To cap the climax +of folly, it was provided that the work should commence on all these +roads simultaneously, at each end, and from the crossings of all the +rivers. + +As no previous survey or estimate had been made, either of the routes, +the cost of the works, or the amount of business to be done on them, it +is not surprising that the State of Illinois soon found herself with a +heavy debt, and nothing to show for it, except a few detached pieces +of railroad embankments and excavations, a half-finished canal, and a +railroad from the Illinois River to Springfield, which cost one million +of dollars, and when finished would not pay for operating it. + +The State staggered on for some ten years under this load of debt, +which, as she could not pay the interest upon it, had increased in 1845 +to some fourteen millions. The project of repudiating the debt was +frequently brought forward by unscrupulous politicians; but to the honor +of the people of Illinois be it remembered, that even in the darkest +times this dishonest scheme found but few friends. + +In 1845, the holders of the canal bonds advanced the sum of $1,700,000 +for the purpose of finishing the canal; and subsequently, William B. +Ogden and a few other citizens of Chicago, having obtained possession of +an old railroad-charter for a road from that city to Galena, got a few +thousand dollars of stock subscribed in those cities, and commenced the +work. The difficulties were very great, from the scarcity of money and +the want of confidence in the success of the enterprise. In most of the +villages along the proposed line there was a strong opposition to having +a railroad built at all, as the people thought it would be the ruin of +their towns. Even in Chicago, croakers were not wanting to predict that +the railroad would monopolize all the trade of the place. + +In the face of all these obstacles, the road was built to the Des +Plaines River, twelve miles,--in a very cheap way, to be sure; as a +second-hand strap-rail was used, and half-worn cars were picked up from +Eastern roads. + +These twelve miles of road between the Des Plaines and Chicago had +always been the terror of travellers. It was a low, wet prairie, without +drainage, and in the spring and autumn almost impassable. At such +seasons one might trace the road by the broken wagons and dead horses +that lay strewn along it. + +To be able to have their loads of grain carried over this dreadful place +for three or four cents a bushel was to the farmers of the Rock River +and Fox River valleys--who, having hauled their wheat from forty to +eighty miles to this Slough of Despond, frequently could get it no +farther--a privilege which they soon began to appreciate. The road had +all it could do, at once. It was a success. There was now no difficulty +in getting the stock taken up, and before long it was finished to Fox +River. It paid from fifteen to twenty per cent to the stockholders, +and the people along the line soon became its warmest friends,--and no +wonder, since it doubled the value of every man's farm on the line. The +next year the road was extended to Rock River, and then to Galena, one +hundred and eighty-five miles. + +This road was the pioneer of the twenty-eight hundred and fifty miles of +railroads which now cross the State in every direction, and which have +hastened the settlement of the prairies at least fifty years. + +Among these lines of railway, the most important, and one of the longest +in America, is the Illinois Central, which is seven hundred and four +miles in length, and traverses the State from South to North, namely:-- + + 1. The main line, from Cairo to La Salla 308 miles + 2. The Galena Branch, from La Salle to Dunleith 146 " + 3. The Chicago Branch, from Chicago to Centralia 250 " + +This great work was accomplished in the short space of four years and +nine months, by the help of a grant of two and a half millions of acres +of land lying along the line. The company have adopted the policy of +selling these lands on long credit to actual settlers; and since the +completion of the road, in 1856, they have sold over a million of acres, +for fifteen millions of dollars, in secured notes, bearing interest. The +remaining lands will probably realize as much more, so that the seven +hundred and four miles of railroad will actually cost the corporators +nothing. + +There are eleven trunk and twenty branch and extension lines, which +centre in Chicago, the earnings of nineteen of which, for the year 1859, +were fifteen millions of dollars. As that, however, was a year of great +depression in business, with a short crop through the Northwest, we +think, in view of the large crop of 1860, and the consequent revival of +business, that the earnings of these nineteen lines will not be less +this year than twenty-two millions of dollars. + +In the early settlement of the State, twenty-five or thirty years ago, +the pioneers being necessarily very liable to want of good shelter, to +bad food and impure water, suffered much from bilious and intermittent +fevers. As the country has become settled, the land brought under +cultivation, and the habits of the people improved, these diseases have +in a great measure disappeared. Other forms of disease have, however, +taken their place, pulmonary affections and fevers of the typhoid type +being more prevalent than formerly; but as most of the immigrants into +Northern Illinois are from Western New York and New England, where this +latter class of diseases prevails, the people are much less alarmed by +them than they used to be by the bilious diseases, though the latter +were really less dangerous. The coughs, colds, and consumptions are old +acquaintances, and through familiarity have lost their terrors. + +The census of 1850 gives the following comparative view of the annual +percentage of deaths in several States:-- + + Massachusetts, . . 1.95 per cent. + Rhode Island, . . 1.52 " + New York, . . . 1.47 " + Ohio, . . . . 1.44 " + Illinois, . . . . 1.36 " + Missouri, . . . 1.80 " + Louisiana, . . . 2.31 " + Texas, . . . 1.43 " + +This table shows that Illinois stands in point of health among the very +highest of the States. + +Having sketched the history and traced the material development of the +Prairie State to the present time, we will close this article with a few +words as to its politics and policy. + +As we have seen, the early settlers of Illinois were from Virginia +and Kentucky, and brought with them the habits, customs, and ideas of +Slaveholders; and though by the sagacity and virtue of a few leading +men the institution of Slavery was kept out, yet for many years the +Democratic Party, always the ally and servant of the Slave-Power, was in +the ascendant. Until 1858, the Legislature and the Executive have always +been Democratic, and the Democratic candidate for the Presidency, from +Jackson down to Buchanan, was sure of the electoral vote of Illinois. +But the growth of the northern half of the State has of late years been +far outstripping that of the southern portion, and the former now has +the majority. We have now a Republican Legislature and a Republican +Governor, and, by the new apportionment soon to be made, the Republican +Party will be much more largely in the ascendant,--so much so, indeed, +that there is no probability of another Democratic Senator being chosen +from Illinois in the next twenty years, Mr. Douglas will be the last of +his race. + +The people of Northern Illinois, who are in future to direct the policy +of the State, are mostly from Western New York and New England. + + "Coelum, non animum mutant." + +They bring with them their unconquered prejudices in favor of freedom; +their great commercial city is as strongly anti-slavery as Worcester +or Syracuse, and has been for years an unsafe spot for a slave-hunter. +Their interests and their sympathies are all with the Northern States. +What idle babble, then, is this theory of a third Confederacy, to be +constructed out of the middle Atlantic States and the Northwest! + +If, as one of our orators says, New England is the brain of this +country, then the Northwest is its bone and muscle, ready to cultivate +its wide prairies and feed the world,--or, if need be, to use the same +strength in crushing treason, and in preserving the Territories for free +settlers. + + + + +CONCERNING FUTURE YEARS + + +Does it ever come across you, my friend, with something of a start, that +things cannot always go on in your lot as they are going now? Does not a +sudden thought sometimes flash upon you, a hasty, vivid glimpse, of what +you will be long hereafter, if you are spared in this world? Our common +way is too much to think that things will always go on as they are +going. Not that we clearly think so: not that we ever put that opinion +in a definite shape, and avow to ourselves that we hold it: but we live +very much under that vague, general impression. We can hardly help it. +When a man of middle age inherits a pretty country-seat, and makes up +his mind that be cannot yet afford to give up business and go to live +there, but concludes that in six or eight years he will be able with +justice to his children to do so, do you think he brings plainly before +him the changes which must be wrought on himself and those around him +by these years? I do not speak of the greatest change of all, which may +come to any of us so very soon: I do not think of what may be done +by unlooked-for accident: I think merely of what must be done by the +passing on of time. I think of possible changes in taste and feeling, +of possible loss of liking for that mode of life. I think of lungs that +will play less freely, and of limbs that will suggest shortened walks, +and dissuade from climbing hills. I think how the children will have +outgrown daisy-chains, or even got beyond the season of climbing trees. +The middle-aged man enjoys the prospect of the time when he shall go to +his country house; and the vague, undefined belief surrounds him, like +an atmosphere, that he and his children, his views and likings, will be +then just such as they are now. He cannot bring it home to him at how +many points change will be cutting into him, and hedging him in, and +paring him down. And we all live very much under that vague impression. +Yet it is in many ways good for us to feel that we are going on, +--passing from the things which surround us,--advancing into the +undefined future, into the unknown land. And I think that sometimes we +all have vivid flashes of such a conviction. I dare say, my friend, you +have seen an old man, frail, soured, and shabby, and you have thought, +with a start, Perhaps _there_ is Myself of Future Years. + +We human beings can stand a great deal. There is great margin allowed by +our constitution, physical and moral. I suppose there is no doubt that +a man may daily for years eat what is unwholesome, breathe air which is +bad, or go through a round of life which is not the best or the right +one for either body or mind, and yet be little the worse. And so men +pass through great trials and through long years, and yet are not +altered so very much. The other day, walking along the street, I saw a +man whom I had not seen for ten years. I knew that since I saw him last +he had gone through very heavy troubles, and that these had sat very +heavily upon him. I remembered how he had lost that friend who was the +dearest to him of all human beings, and I knew how broken down he had +been for many months after that great sorrow came. Yet there he was, +walking along, an unnoticed unit, just like any one else; and he was +looking wonderfully well. No doubt he seemed pale, worn, and anxious: +but he was very well and carefully dressed; he was walking with a brisk, +active step; and I dare say is feeling pretty well reconciled to being +what he is, and to the circumstances amid which he is living. Still, one +felt that somehow a tremendous change had passed over him. I felt +sorry for him, and all the more that he did not seem to feel sorry for +himself. It made me sad to think that some day I should be like him; +that perhaps in the eyes of my juniors I look like him already, careworn +and aging. I dare say in his feeling there was no such sense of falling +off. Perhaps he was tolerably content. He was walking so fast, and +looking so sharp, that I am sure he had no desponding feeling at the +time. Despondency goes with slow movements and with vague looks. The +sense of having materially fallen off is destructive to the eagle-eye. +Yes, he was tolerably content. We can go down-hill cheerfully, save at +the points where it is sharply brought home to us that we are going +down-hill. Lately I sat at dinner opposite an old lady who had the +remains of striking beauty. I remember how much she interested me. Her +hair was false, her teeth were false, her complexion was shrivelled, her +form had lost the round symmetry of earlier years, and was angular and +stiff; yet how cheerful and lively she was! She had gone far down-hill +physically; but either she did not feel her decadence, or she had grown +quite reconciled to it. Her daughter, a blooming matron, was there, +happy, wealthy, good; yet not apparently a whit more reconciled to life +than the aged grandam. It was pleasing, and yet it was sad, to see how +well we can make up our mind to what is inevitable. And such a sight +brings up to one a glimpse of Future Years. The cloud seems to part +before one, and through the rift you discern your earthly track far +away, and a jaded pilgrim plodding along it with weary step; and +though the pilgrim does not look like you, yet you know the pilgrim is +yourself. + +This cannot always go on. To what is it all tending? I am not thinking +now of an outlook so grave, that this is not the place to discuss it. +But I am thinking how everything is going on. In this world there is no +standing still. And everything that belongs entirely to this world, its +interests and occupations, is going on towards a conclusion. It will +all come to an end. It cannot go on forever. I cannot always be writing +sermons as I do now, and going on in this regular course of life. I +cannot always be writing essays. The day will come when I shall have no +more to say, or when the readers of the Magazine will no longer have +patience to listen to me in that kind fashion in which they have +listened so long. I foresee it plainly, this evening,--even while +writing my first essay for the "Atlantic Monthly,"--the time when +the reader shall open the familiar cover, and glance at the table of +contents, and exclaim indignantly, "Here is that tiresome person again: +why will he not cease to weary us?" I write in sober sadness, my friend: +I do not intend any jest. If you do not know that what I have written is +certainly true, you have not lived very long. You have not learned the +sorrowful lesson, that all worldly occupations and interests are wearing +to their close. You cannot keep up the old thing, however much you may +wish to do so. You know how vain anniversaries for the most part are. +You meet with certain old friends, to try to revive the old days; but +the spirit of the old time will not come over you. It is not a spirit +that can be raised at will. It cannot go on forever, that walking down +to church on Sundays, and ascending those pulpit-steps; it will change +to feeling, though I humbly trust it may be long before it shall change +in fact. Don't you all sometimes feel something like that? Don't you +sometimes look about you and say to yourself, That furniture will wear +out: those window-curtains are getting sadly faded; they will not last a +lifetime? Those carpets must be replaced some day; and the old patterns +which looked at you with a kindly, familiar expression, through these +long years, must be among the old familiar faces that are gone. These +are little things, indeed, but they are among the vague recollections +that bewilder our memory; they are among the things which come up in the +strange, confused remembrance of the dying man in the last days of life. +There is an old fir-tree, a twisted, strange-looking fir-tree, which +will be among my last recollections, I know, as it was among my first. +It was always before my eyes, when I was three, four, five years old: I +see the pyramidal top, rising over a mass of shrubbery; I see it always +against a sunset-sky; always in the subdued twilight in which we seem to +see things in distant years. These old friends will die, you think; +who will take their place? You will be an old gentleman, a frail old +gentleman, wondered at by younger men, and telling them long stones +about the days when Lincoln was President, like those which weary you +now about the War of 1812. It will not be the same world then. Your +children will not be always children. Enjoy their fresh youth while it +lasts, for it will not last long. Do not skim over the present too fast, +through a constant habit of onward-looking. Many men of an anxious turn +are so eagerly concerned in providing for the future, that they hardly +remark the blessings of the present. Yet it is only because the future +will some day be present, that it deserves any thought at all. And many +men, instead of heartily enjoying present blessings while they are +present, train themselves to a habit of regarding these things as merely +the foundation on which they are to build some vague fabric of they know +not what. I have known a clergyman, who was very fond of music, and in +whose church the music was very fine, who seemed incapable of enjoying +its solemn beauty as a thing to be enjoyed while passing, but who +persisted in regarding each beautiful strain merely as a promising +indication of what his choir would come at some future time to be. It is +a very bad habit, and one which grows, unless repressed. You, my reader, +when you see your children racing on the green, train yourself to regard +all that as a happy end in itself. Do not grow to think merely that +those sturdy young limbs promise to be stout and serviceable when they +are those of a grown-up man; and rejoice in the smooth little forehead +with its curly hair, without any forethought of how it is to look some +day when overshadowed (as it is sure to be) by the great wig of the Lord +Chancellor. Good advice: let us all try to take it. Let all happy things +be not merely regarded as means, but enjoyed as ends. Yet it is in the +make of our nature to be ever onward-looking; and we cannot help it. +When you get the first number for the year of the magazine which you +take in, you instinctively think of it as the first portion of a new +volume; and you are conscious of a certain, though alight, restlessness +in the thought of a thing incomplete, and of a wish that you had the +volume completed. And sometimes, thus looking onward into the future, +you worry yourself with little thoughts and cares. There is that old +dog: you have had him for many years; he is growing stiff and frail; +what are you to do when he dies? When he is gone, the new dog you get +will never be like him; he may be, indeed, a far handsomer and more +amiable animal, but he will not be your old companion; he will not be +surrounded with all those old associations, not merely with your own +by-past life, but with the lives, the faces, and the voices of those who +have left you, which invest with a certain sacredness even that humble, +but faithful friend. He will not have been the companion of your +youthful walks, when you went at a pace which now you cannot attain. He +will just be a common dog; and who that has reached your years cares +for _that_? The other, indeed, was a dog too; but that was merely the +substratum on which was accumulated a host of recollections: it is _Auld +Lang Syne_ that walks into your study, when your shaggy friend of ten +summers comes stiffly in, and after many querulous turnings lays himself +down on the rug before the fire. Do you not feel the like when you +look at many little matters, and then look into the Future Years? That +harness,--how will you replace it? It will be a pang to throw it by; +and it will be a considerable expense, too, to get a new suit. Then you +think how long harness may continue to be serviceable. I once saw, on a +pair of horses drawing a stage-coach among the hills, a set of harness +which was thirty-five years old. It had been very costly and grand when +new; it had belonged for some of its earliest years to a certain wealthy +nobleman. The nobleman had been for many years in his grave, but there +was his harness still. It was tremendously patched, and the blinkers +were of extraordinary aspect; but it was quite serviceable. There is +comfort for you, poor country parsons! How thoroughly I understand your +feeling about such little things! I know how you sometimes look at your +phaëton or your dog-cart; and even while the morocco is fresh, and the +wheels still are running with their first tires, how you think you see +it after it has grown shabby and old-fashioned. Yes, you remember, +not without a dull kind of pang, that it is wearing out. You have a +neighbor, perhaps, a few miles off, whose conveyance, through the wear +of many years, has become remarkably seedy; and every time you meet it +you think that there you see your own, as it will some day be. Every dog +has his day: but the day of the rational dog is overclouded in a fashion +unknown to his inferior fellow-creature; it is overclouded by the +anticipation of the coming day which will not be his. You remember how +that great, though morbid man, John Poster, could not heartily enjoy the +summer weather, for thinking how every sunny day that shone upon him +was a downward step towards the winter gloom. Each indication that the +season was progressing, even though progressing as yet only to greater +beauty, filled him with great grief. "I have seen a fearful sight +to-day," he would say,--"I have seen a buttercup." And we know, of +course, that in his case there was nothing like affectation; it was only +that, unhappily for himself, the bent of his mind was so onward-looking, +that he saw only a premonition of the snows of December in the roses of +June. It would be a blessing, if we could quite discard the tendency. +And while your trap runs smoothly and noiselessly, while the leather is +fresh and the paint unscratched, do not worry yourself with visions of +the day when it will rattle and creak, and when you will make it wait +for you at the corner of back-streets when you drive into town. Do not +vex yourself by fancying that you will never have heart to send off the +old carriage, nor by wondering where you shall find the money to buy a +new one. + +Have you ever read the "Life of Mansie Wauch, Tailor in Dalkeith," by +that pleasing poet and most amiable man, the late David Macbeth Moir? +I have been looking into it lately; and I have regretted much that the +Lowland Scotch dialect is so imperfectly understood in England, and that +even where so far understood its raciness is so little felt; for great +as is the popularity of that work, it is much less known than it +deserves to be. Only a Scotchman can thoroughly appreciate it. It is +curious, and yet it is not curious, to find the pathos and the polish of +one of the most touching and elegant of poets in the man who has +with such irresistible humor, sometimes approaching to the farcical, +delineated humble Scotch life. One passage in the book always struck me +very much. We have in it the poet as well as the humorist and it is a +perfect example of what I have been trying to describe in the pages +which you have read. I mean the passage in which Mansie tells us of a +sudden glimpse which, in circumstances of mortal terror, he once had of +the future. On a certain "awful night" the tailor was awakened by cries +of alarm, and, looking out, he saw the next house to his own was on fire +from cellar to garret. The earnings of poor Mansie's whole life were +laid out on his stock in trade and his furniture, and it appeared likely +that these would be at once destroyed. + +"Then," says he, "the darkness of the latter days came over my spirit +like a vision before the prophet Isaiah; and I could see nothing in the +years to come but beggary and starvation,--myself a fallen-back old man, +with an out-at-the-elbows coat, a greasy hat, and a bald brow, +hirpling over a staff, requeeshting an awmous; Nanse a broken-hearted +beggar-wife, torn down to tatters, and weeping like Rachel when she +thought on better days; and poor wee Benjie going from door to door with +a meal-pock on his back." + +Ah, there is exquisite pathos _there_, as well as humor; but the thing +for which I have quoted that sentence is its startling truthfulness. You +have all done what Mansie Wauch did, I know. Every one has his own way +of doing it, and it is his own especial picture which each sees; but +there has appeared to us, as to Mansie, (I must recur to my old figure,) +as it were a sudden rift in the clouds that conceal the future, and +we have seen the way, far ahead,--the dusty way,--and an aged pilgrim +pacing slowly along it; and in that aged figure we have each recognized +our own young self. How often have I sat down on the mossy wall that +surrounded my churchyard, when I had more time for reverie than I have +now,--sat upon the mossy wall, under a great oak, whose branches came +low down and projected far out,--and looked at the rough gnarled bark, +and at the pacing river, and at the belfry of the little church, and +there and then thought of Mansie Wauch and of his vision of Future +Years! How often in these hours, or in long solitary walks and rides +among the hills, have I had visions, clear as that of Mansie Wauch, of +how I should grow old in my country parish! Do not think that I wish or +intend to be egotistical, my friendly reader. I describe these feelings +and fancies because I think this is the likeliest way in which to reach +and describe your own. There was a rapid little stream that flowed, in +a very lonely place, between the highway and a cottage to which I often +went to see a poor old woman; and when I came out of the cottage, having +made sure that no one saw me, I always took a great leap over the little +stream, which saved going round a little way. And never once, for +several years, did I thus cross it without seeing a picture as clear to +the mind's eye as Mansie Wauch's,--a picture which made me walk very +thoughtfully along for the next mile or two. It was curious to think how +one was to get through the accustomed duty after having grown old and +frail. The day would come when the brook could be crossed in that brisk +fashion no more. It must be an odd thing for the parson to walk as an +old man into the pulpit, still his own, which was his own when he was a +young man of six-and-twenty. What a crowd of old remembrances must be +present each Sunday to the clergyman's mind, who has served the same +parish and preached in the same church for fifty years! Personal +identity, continued through the successive stages of life, is a +commonplace thing to think of; but when it is brought home to your own +case and feeling, it is a very touching and a very bewildering thing. +There are the same trees and hills as when you were a boy; and when each +of us comes to his last days in this world, how short a space it will +seem since we were little children! Let us humbly hope, that, in that +brief space parting the cradle from the grave, we may (by help from +above) have accomplished a certain work which will cast its blessed +influence over all the years and all the ages before us. Yet it remains +a strange thing to look forward and to see yourself with gray hair, and +not much even of that; to see your wife an old woman, and your little +boy or girl grown up into manhood or womanhood. It is more strange still +to fancy you see them all going on as usual in the round of life, and +you no longer among them. You see your empty chair. There is your +writing-table and your inkstand; there are your books, not so carefully +arranged as they used to be; perhaps, on the whole, less indication than +you might have hoped that they miss you. All this is strange when you +bring it home to your own case; and that hundreds of millions have felt +the like makes it none the less strange to you. The commonplaces of life +and death are not commonplace when they befall ourselves. It was in +desperate hurry and agitation that Mansie Wauch saw his vision; and in +like circumstances you may have yours too. But for the most part such +moods come in leisure,--in saunterings through the autumn woods,--in +reveries by the winter fire. + +I do not think, thus musing upon our occasional glimpses of the Future, +of such fancies as those of early youth,--fancies and anticipations of +greatness, of felicity, of fame; I think of the onward views of men +approaching middle age, who have found their place and their work in +life, and who may reasonably believe, that, save for great unexpected +accidents, there will be no very material change in their lot till that +"change come" to which Job looked forward four thousand years since. +There are great numbers of educated folk who are likely always to live +in the same kind of house, to have the same establishment, to associate +with the same class of people, to walk along the same streets, to look +upon the same hills, as long as they live. The only change will be the +gradual one which will be wrought by advancing years. + +And the onward view of such people in such circumstances is generally a +very vague one. It is only now and then that there comes the startling +clearness of prospect so well set forth by Mansie Wauch. Yet sometimes, +when such a vivid view comes, it remains for days, and is a painful +companion of your solitude. Don't you remember, clerical reader of +thirty-two, having seen a good deal of an old parson, rather sour in +aspect, rather shabby-looking, sadly pinched for means, and with powers +dwarfed by the sore struggle with the world to maintain his family and +to keep up a respectable appearance upon his limited resources; perhaps +with his mind made petty and his temper spoiled by the little worries, +the petty malignant tattle and gossip and occasional insolence of a +little backbiting village? and don't you remember how for days you felt +haunted by a sort of nightmare that there was what you would be, if you +lived so long? Yes; you know how there have been times when for ten days +together that jarring thought would intrude, whenever your mind was +disengaged from work; and sometimes, when you went to bed, that thought +kept you awake for hours. You knew the impression was morbid, and you +were angry with yourself for your silliness; but you could not drive it +away. + +It makes a great difference in the prospect of Future Years, if you are +one of those people who, even after middle age, may still make a great +rise in life. This will prolong the restlessness which in others is +sobered down at forty: it will extend the period during which you will +every now and then have brief seasons of feverish anxiety, hope, and +fear, followed by longer stretches of blank disappointment. And it will +afford the opportunity of experiencing a vividly new sensation, and of +turning over a quite new leaf, after most people have settled to the +jog-trot at which the remainder of the pilgrimage is to be covered. A +clergyman of the Church of England may be made a bishop, and exchange a +quiet rectory for a palace. No doubt the increase of responsibility is +to a conscientious man almost appalling; but surely the rise in life +is great. There you are, one of four-and-twenty, selected out of near +twenty thousand. It is possible, indeed, that you may feel more reason +for shame than for elation at the thought. A barrister unknown to fame, +but of respectable standing, may be made a judge. Such a man may even, +if he gets into the groove, be gradually pushed on till he reaches an +eminence which probably surprises himself as much as any one else. A +good speaker in Parliament may at sixty or seventy be made a Cabinet +Minister. And we can all imagine what indescribable pride and elation +must in such cases possess the wife and daughters of the man who has +attained this decided step in advance. I can say sincerely that I never +saw human beings walk with so airy tread, and evince so fussily their +sense of a greatness more than mortal, as the wife and the daughter of +an amiable but not able bishop I knew in my youth, when they came to +church on the Sunday morning on which the good man preached for the +first time in his lawn sleeves. Their heads were turned for the time; +but they gradually came right again, as the ladies became accustomed to +the summits of human affairs. Let it be said for the bishop himself, +that there was not a vestige of that sense of elevation about him. He +looked perfectly modest and unaffected. His dress was remarkably ill put +on, and his sleeves stuck out in the most awkward fashion ever assumed +by drapery. I suppose that sometimes these rises in life come very +unexpectedly. I have heard of a man who, when he received a letter from +the Prime Minister of the day offering him a place of great dignity, +thought the letter was a hoax, and did not notice it for several days. +You could not certainly infer from his modesty what has proved to be the +fact, that he has filled his place admirably well. The possibility of +such material changes must no doubt tend to prolong the interest in +life, which is ready to flag as years go on. But perhaps with the +majority of men the level is found before middle age, and no very great +worldly change awaits them. The path stretches on, with its ups and +downs; and they only hope for strength for the day. But in such men's +lot of humble duty and quiet content there remains room for many fears. +All human beings who are as well off as they can ever be, and so who +have little room for hope, seem to be liable to the invasion of great +fear as they look into the future. It seems to be so with kings, and +with great nobles. Many such have lived in a nervous dread of change, +and have ever been watching the signs of the times with apprehensive +eyes. Nothing that can happen can well make such better; and so they +suffer from the vague foreboding of something which will make them +worse. And the same law reaches to those in whom hope is narrowed down, +not by the limit of grand possibility, but of little,--not by the fact +that they have got all that mortal can get, but by the fact that they +have got the little which is all that Providence seems to intend to give +to _them_. And, indeed, there is something that is almost awful, when +your affairs are all going happily, when your mind is clear and equal +to its work, when your bodily health is unbroken, when your home is +pleasant, when your income is ample, when your children are healthy and +merry and hopeful,--in looking on to Future Years. The more happy +you are, the more there is of awe in the thought how frail are the +foundations of your earthly happiness,--what havoc may be made of them +by the chances of even a single day. It is no wonder that the solemnity +and awfulness of the Future have been felt so much, that the languages +of Northern Europe have, as I dare say you know, no word which expresses +the essential notion of Futurity. You think, perhaps, of _shall_ +and _will_. Well, these words have come now to convey the notion of +Futurity; but they do so only in a secondary fashion. Look to their +etymology, and you will see that they _imply_ Futurity, but do not +_express_ it. _I shall_ do such a thing means _I am bound to do it, I am +under an obligation to do it. I will_ do such a thing means _I intend to +do it. It is my present purpose to do it_. Of course, if you are under +an obligation to do anything, or if it be your intention to do anything, +the probability is that the thing will be done; but the Northern family +of languages ventures no nearer than _that_ towards the expression of +the bare, awful idea of Future Time. It was no wonder that Mr. Croaker +was able to east a gloom upon the gayest circle, and the happiest +conjuncture of circumstances, by wishing that all might be as well that +day six months. Six months! What might that time not do? Perhaps you +have not read a little poem of Barry Cornwall's, the idea of which must +come home to the heart of most of us:-- + + "Touch us gently, Time! + Let us glide adown thy stream + Gently,--as we sometimes glide + Through a quiet dream. + Humble voyagers are we, + Husband, wife, and children three;-- + One is lost,--an angel, fled + To the azure overhead. + + "Touch us gently, Time! + We've not proud nor soaring wings: + _Our_ ambition, our content, + Lies in simple things. + Humble voyagers are we, + O'er life's dim, unsounded sea, + Seeking only some calm clime:-- + Touch us gently, gentle Time!" + +I know that sometimes, my friend, you will not have much sleep, if, when +you lay your head on your pillow, you begin to think how much depends +upon your health and life. You have reached now that time at which you +value life and health not so much for their service to yourself, as for +their needfulness to others. There is a petition familiar to me in this +Scotch country, where people make their prayers for themselves, which +seems to me to possess great solemnity and force, when we think of +all that is implied in it. It is, _Spare useful lives!_ One life, the +slender line of blood passing into and passing out of one human heart, +may decide the question, whether wife and children shall grow up +affluent, refined, happy, yes, and _good_, or be reduced to hard +straits, with all the manifold evils which grow of poverty in the case +of those who have been reduced to it after knowing other things. You +often think, I doubt not, in quiet hours, what would become of your +children, if you were gone. You have done, I trust, what you can to care +for them, even from your grave: you think sometimes of a poetical figure +of speech amid the dry technical phrases of English law: you know what +is meant by the law of _Mortmain_; and you like to think that even your +_dead hand_ may be felt to be kindly intermeddling yet in the affairs of +those who were your dearest: that some little sum, slender, perhaps, but +as liberal as you could make it, may come in periodically when it is +wanted, and seem like the gift of a thoughtful heart and a kindly hand +which are far away. Yes, cut down your present income to any extent, +that you may make some provision for your children after you are dead. +You do not wish that they should have the saddest of all reasons for +taking care of you, and trying to lengthen out your life. But even after +you have done everything which your small means permit, you will still +think, with an anxious heart, of the possibilities of Future Years. A +man or woman who has children has very strong reason for wishing to live +as long as may be, and has no right to trifle with health or life. +And sometimes, looking out into days to come, you think of the little +things, hitherto so free from man's heritage of care, as they may some +day be. You see them shabby, and early anxious: can _that_ be the little +boy's rosy face, now so pale and thin? You see them in a poor room, in +which you recognize your study-chairs with the hair coming out of the +cushions, and a carpet which you remember now threadbare and in holes. + +It is no wonder at all that people are so anxious about money. Money +means every desirable material thing on earth, and the manifold +immaterial things which come of material possessions. Poverty is the +most comprehensive earthly evil; all conceivable evils, temporal, +spiritual, and eternal, may come of _that_. Of course, great temptations +attend its opposite; and the wise man's prayer will be what it was long +ago,--"Give me neither poverty nor riches." But let us have no nonsense +talked about money being of no consequence. The want of it has made many +a father and mother tremble at the prospect of being taken from their +children; the want of it has embittered many a parent's dying hours. +You hear selfish persons talking vaguely about faith. You find such +heartless persons jauntily spending all they get on themselves, and then +leaving their poor children to beggary, with the miserable pretext that +they are doing all this through their abundant trust in God. Now this is +not faith; it is insolent presumption. It is exactly as if a man should +jump from the top of St. Paul's, and say that he had faith that the +Almighty would keep him from being dashed to pieces on the pavement. +There is a high authority as to such cases,--"Thou shalt not tempt the +Lord thy God." If God had promised that people should never fall into +the miseries of penury under any circumstances, it would be faith to +trust that promise, however unlikely of fulfilment it might seem in any +particular case. But God has made no such promise; and if you leave your +children without provision, you have no right to expect that they +shall not suffer the natural consequences of your heartlessness and +thoughtlessness. True faith lies in your doing everything you possibly +can, and _then_ humbly trusting in God. And if, after you have done your +very best, you must still go, with but a blank outlook for those you +leave, why, _then_ you may trust them to the Husband of the widow and +Father of the fatherless. Faith, as regards such matters, means firm +belief that God will do all He has promised to do, however difficult or +unlikely. But some people seem to think that faith means firm belief +that God will do whatever they think would suit them, however +unreasonable, and however flatly in the face of all the established laws +of His government. + +We all have it in our power to make ourselves miserable, if we look +far into Future Years and calculate their probabilities of evil, and +steadily anticipate the worst. It is not expedient to calculate too far +ahead. Of course, the right way in this, as in other things, is +the middle way: we are not to run either into the extreme of +over-carefulness and anxiety on the one hand, or of recklessness and +imprudence on the other. But as mention has been made of faith, it may +safely be said that we are forgetful of that rational trust in God which +is at once our duty and our inestimable privilege, if we are always +looking out into the future, and vexing ourselves with endless fears as +to how things are to go then. There is no divine promise, that, if a +reckless blockhead leaves his children to starve, they shall not starve. +And a certain inspired volume speaks with extreme severity of the man +who fails to provide for them of his own house. But there is a divine +promise which says to the humble Christian,--"As thy days, so shall thy +strength be." If your affairs are going on fairly now, be thankful, +and try to do your duty, and to do your best, as a Christian man and a +prudent man, and then leave the rest to God. Your children are about +you; no doubt they may die, and it is fit enough that you should not +forget the fragility of your most prized possessions; it is fit enough +that you should sometimes sit by the fire and look at the merry faces +and listen to the little voices, and think what it would be to lose +them. But it is not needful, or rational, or Christian-like, to be +always brooding on that thought. And when they grow up, it may be hard +to provide for them. The little thing that is sitting on your knee may +before many years be alone in life, thousands of miles from you and from +his early home, an insignificant item in the bitter price which Britain +pays for her Indian Empire. It is even possible, though you hardly for a +moment admit _that_ thought, that the child may turn out a heartless +and wicked man, and prove your shame and heartbreak: all wicked and +heartless men have been the children of somebody; and many of them, +doubtless, the children of those who surmised the future as little as +Eve did when she smiled upon the infant Cain. And the fireside by which +you sit, now merry and noisy enough, may grow lonely,--lonely with the +second loneliness, not the hopeful solitude of youth looking forward, +but the desponding loneliness of age looking back. And it is so with +everything else. Your health may break down. Some fearful accident may +befall you. The readers of the magazine may cease to care for your +articles. People may get tired of your sermons. People may stop buying +your books, your wine, your groceries, your milk and cream. Younger +men may take away your legal business. Yet how often these fears prove +utterly groundless! It was good and wise advice, given by one who had +managed, with a cheerful and hopeful spirit, to pass through many trying +and anxious years, to "take short views":--not to vex and worry yourself +by planning too far ahead. And a wiser than the wise and cheerful Sydney +Smith had anticipated his philosophy. You remember Who said, "Take no +thought"--that is, no over-anxious and over-careful thought--"for the +morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself." +Did you ever sail over a blue summer sea towards a mountainous coast, +frowning, sullen, gloomy: and have you not seen the gloom retire before +you as you advanced; the hills, grim in the distance, stretch into sunny +slopes when you neared them; and the waters smile in cheerful light, +that looked so black when they were far away? And who is there that has +not seen the parallel in actual life? We have all known the anticipated +ills of life--the danger that looked so big, the duty that looked so +arduous, the entanglement that we could not see our way through--prove +to have been nothing more than spectres on the far horizon; and when +at length we reached them, all their difficulty had vanished into air, +leaving us to think what fools we had been for having so needlessly +conjured up phantoms to disturb our quiet. Yes, there is no doubt of +it, a very great part of all we suffer in this world is from the +apprehension of things that never come. I remember well how a dear +friend, whom I (and many more) lately lost, told me many times of his +fears as to what he would do in a certain contingency which both he +and I thought was quite sure to come sooner or later. I know that the +anticipation of it caused him some of the most anxious hours of a very +anxious, though useful and honored life. How vain his fears proved! He +was taken from this world before what he had dreaded had cast its most +distant shadow. Well, let me try to discard the notion which has been +sometimes worrying me of late, that perhaps I have written nearly as +many essays as any one will care to read. Don't let any of us give way +to fears which may prove to have been entirely groundless. + +And then, if we are really spared to see those trials we sometimes +think of, and which it is right that we should sometimes think of, the +strength for them will come at the time. They will not look nearly so +black, and we shall be enabled to bear them bravely. There is in human +nature a marvellous power of accommodation to circumstances. We can +gradually make up our mind to almost anything. If this were a sermon +instead of an essay, I should explain my theory of how this comes to +be. I see in all this something beyond the mere natural instinct of +acquiescence in what is inevitable; something beyond the benevolent law +in the human mind, that it shall adapt itself to whatever circumstances +it may be placed in; something beyond the doing of the gentle comforter +Time. Yes, it is wonderful what people can go through, wonderful what +people can get reconciled to. I dare say my friend Smith, when his hair +began to fall off, made frantic efforts to keep it on. I have no doubt +he anxiously tried all the vile concoctions which quackery advertises in +the newspapers, for the advantage of those who wish for luxuriant locks. +I dare say for a while it really weighed upon his mind, and disturbed +his quiet, that he was getting bald. But now he has quite reconciled +himself to his lot; and with a head smooth and sheeny as the egg of +the ostrich, Smith goes on through life, and feels no pang at the +remembrance of the ambrosial curls of his youth. Most young people, +I dare say, think it will be a dreadful thing to grow old: a girl of +eighteen thinks it must be an awful sensation to be thirty. Believe me, +not at all. You are brought to it bit by bit; and when you reach the +spot, you rather like the view. And it is so with graver things. We grow +able to do and to bear that which it is needful that we should do and +bear. As is the day, so the strength proves to be. And you have heard +people tell you truly, that they have been enabled to bear what they +never thought they could have come through with their reason or their +life. I have no fear for the Christian man, so he keeps to the path of +duty. Straining up the steep hill, his heart will grow stout in just +proportion to its steepness. Yes, and if the call to martyrdom came, I +should not despair of finding men who would show themselves equal to it, +even in this commonplace age, and among people who wear Highland cloaks +and knickerbockers. The martyr's strength would come with the martyr's +day. It is because there is no call for it now, that people look so +little like it. + +It is very difficult, in this world, to strongly enforce a truth, +without seeming to push it into an extreme. You are very apt, in +avoiding one error, to run into the opposite error; forgetting that +truth and right lie generally between two extremes. And in agreeing with +Sydney Smith, as to the wisdom and the duty of "taking short views," let +us take care of appearing to approve the doings of those foolish and +unprincipled people who will keep no outlook into the future time at +all. A bee, you know, cannot see more than a single inch before it; and +there are many men, and perhaps more women, who appear, as regards their +domestic concerns, to be very much of bees: not bees in the respect of +being busy; but bees in the respect of being blind. You see this in all +ranks of life. You see it in the artisan, earning good wages, yet with +every prospect of being weeks out of work next summer or winter, who yet +will not be persuaded to lay by a little in preparation for a rainy day. +You see it in the country gentleman, who, having five thousand a year; +spends ten thousand a year; resolutely shutting his eyes to the certain +and not very remote consequences. You see it in the man who walks into a +shop and buys a lot of things which he has not the money to pay for, +in the vague hope that something will turn up. It is a comparatively +thoughtful and anxious class of men who systematically overcloud the +present by anticipations of the future. The more usual thing is to +sacrifice the future to the present; to grasp at what in the way of +present gratification or gain can be got, with very little thought of +the consequences. You see silly women, the wives of men whose families +are mainly dependent on their lives, constantly urging on their husbands +to extravagances which eat up the little provision which might have been +made for themselves and their children when he is gone who earned their +bread. There is no sadder sight, I think, than that which is not a very +uncommon sight, the careworn, anxious husband, laboring beyond his +strength, often sorrowfully calculating how he may make the ends to +meet, denying himself in every way; and the extravagant idiot of a wife, +bedizened with jewelry and arrayed in velvet and lace, who tosses away +his hard earnings in reckless extravagance; in entertainments which +he cannot afford, given to people who do not care a rush for him; in +preposterous dress; in absurd furniture; in needless men-servants; in +green-grocers above measure; in resolute aping of the way of living of +people with twice or three times the means. It is sad to see all the +forethought, prudence, and moderation of the wedded pair confined to one +of them. You would say that it will not be any solid consolation to the +widow, when the husband is fairly worried into his grave at last,--when +his daughters have to go out as governesses, and she has to let +lodgings,--to reflect that while he lived they never failed to have +Champagne at his dinner-parties; and that they had three men to wait at +table on such occasions, while Mr. Smith, next door, had never more than +one and a maidservant. If such idiotic women would but look forward, and +consider how all this must end! If the professional man spends all he +earns, what remains when the supply is cut off; when the toiling head +and hand can toil no more? Ah, a little of the economy and management +which must perforce be practised after _that_ might have tended +powerfully to put off the evil day. Sometimes the husband is merely the +careworn drudge who provides what the wife squanders. Have you not known +such a thing as that a man should be laboring under an Indian sun, and +cutting down every personal expense to the last shilling, that he might +send a liberal allowance to his wife in England; while she meanwhile +was recklessly spending twice what was thus sent her; running up +overwhelming accounts, dashing about to public balls, paying for a +bouquet what cost the poor fellow far away much thought to save, +giving costly entertainments at home, filling her house with idle and +empty-headed scapegraces, carrying on scandalous flirtations; till +it becomes a happy thing, if the certain ruin she is bringing on her +husband's head is cut short by the needful interference of Sir Cresswell +Cresswell? There are cases in which tarring and feathering would soothe +the moral sense of the right-minded onlooker. And even where things are +not so bad as in the case of which we have been thinking, it remains +the social curse of this age, that people with a few hundreds a year +determinedly act in various respects as if they had as many thousands. +The dinner given by a man with eight hundred a year, in certain regions +of the earth which I could easily point out, is, as regards food, wine, +and attendance, precisely the same as the dinner given by another man +who has five thousand a year. When will this end? When will people +see its silliness? In truth, you do not really, as things are in this +country, make many people better off by adding a little or a good deal +to their yearly income. For in all probability they were living up to +the very extremity of their means before they got the addition; and in +all probability the first thing they do, on getting the addition, is so +far to increase their establishment and their expense that it is just +as hard a struggle as ever to make the ends meet. It would not be a +pleasant arrangement, that a man who was to be carried across the +straits from England to France should be fixed on a board so weighted +that his mouth and nostrils should be at the level of the water, thus +that he should be struggling for life, and barely escaping drowning +all the way. Yet hosts of people, whom no one proposes to put under +restraint, do as regards their income and expenditure a precisely +analogous thing. They deliberately weight themselves to that degree that +their heads are barely above water, and that any unforeseen emergency +dips their heads under. They rent a house a good deal dearer than they +can justly afford; and they have servants more and more expensive than +they ought; and by many such things they make sure that their progress +through life shall be a drowning struggle: while, if they would +rationally resolve and manfully confess that they cannot afford to have +things as richer folk have them, and arrange their way of living in +accordance with what they can afford, they would enjoy the feeling of +ease and comfort; they would not be ever on the wretched stretch on +which they are now, nor keeping up the hollow appearance of what is +not the fact. But there are folk who make it a point of honor never to +admit, that, in doing or not doing anything, they are actuated for an +instant by so despicable a consideration as the question whether or not +they can afford it. And who shall reckon up the brains which this social +calamity has driven into disease, or the early paralytic shocks which it +has brought on? + +When you were very young, and looked forward to Future Years, did +you ever feel a painful fear that you might outgrow your early home +affections, and your associations with your native scenes? Did you ever +think to yourself,--Will the day come when I shall have been years away +from that river's side, and yet not care? I think we have all known the +feeling. O plain church, to which I used to go when I was a child, and +where I used to think the singing so very splendid! O little room, where +I used to sleep! and you, tall tree, on whose topmost branch I cut the +initials which perhaps the reader knows! did I not even then wonder to +myself if the time and would ever come when I should be far away from +you,--far away, as now, for many years, and not likely to go back,--and +yet feel entirely indifferent to the matter? and did not I even then +feel a strange pain in the fear that very likely it might? These +things come across the mind of a little boy with a curious grief and +bewilderment. Ah, there is something strange in the inner life of a +thoughtful child of eight years old! I would rather see a faithful +record of his thoughts, feelings, fancies, and sorrows, for a single +week, than know all the political events that have happened during that +space in Spain, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Russia, and Turkey. Even amid +the great grief at leaving home for school in your early days, did you +not feel a greater grief to think that the day might come when you would +not care at all; when your home ties and affections would be outgrown; +when you would be quite content to live on, month after month, far from +parents, sisters, brothers, and feel hardly a perceptible blank when you +remembered that they were far away? But it is of the essence of such +fears, that, when the thing comes that you were afraid of, it has ceased +to be fearful; still it is with a little pang that you sometimes call to +remembrance how much you feared it once. It is a daily regret, though +not a very acute one, (more's the pity,) to be thrown much, in middle +life, into the society of an old friend whom as a boy you had regarded +as very wise, and to be compelled to observe that he is a tremendous +fool. You struggle with the conviction; you think it wrong to give in to +it; but you cannot help it. But it would have been a sharper pang to the +child's heart, to have impressed upon the child the fact, that "Good Mr. +Goose is a fool, and some day you will understand that he is." In those +days one admits no imperfection in the people and the things one likes. +You like a person; and _he is good. That_ seems the whole case. You do +not go into exceptions and reservations. I remember how indignant I +felt, as a boy, at reading some depreciatory criticism of the "Waverley +Novels." The criticism was to the effect that the plots generally +dragged at first, and were huddled up at the end. But to me the novels +were enchaining, enthralling; and to hint a defect in them stunned one. +In the boy's feeling, if a thing be good, why, there cannot be anything +bad about it. But in the man's mature judgment, even in the people he +likes best, and in the things he appreciates most highly, there are many +flaws and imperfections. It does not vex us much now to find that this +is so; but it would have greatly vexed us many years since to have +been told that it would be so. I can well imagine, that, if you told a +thoughtful and affectionate child, how well he would some day get on, +far from his parents and his home, his wish would be that any evil might +befall him rather than that! We shrink with terror from the prospect of +things which we can take easily enough when they come. I dare say Lord +Chancellor Thurlow was moderately sincere when he exclaimed in the House +of Peers, "When I forget my king, may my God forget me!" And you will +understand what Leigh Hunt meant, when, in his pleasant poem of "The +Palfrey," he tells us of a daughter who had lost a very bad and +heartless father by death, that, + + "The daughter wept, and wept the more, + To think her tears would soon be o'er." + +Even in middle age, one sad thought which comes in the prospect of +Future Years is of the change which they are sure to work upon many of +our present views and feelings. And the change, in many cases, will be +to the worse. One thing is certain,--that your temper will grow worse, +if it do not grow better. Years will sour it, if they do not mellow it. +Another certain thing is, that, if you do not grow wiser, you will be +growing more foolish. It is very true that there is no fool so foolish +as an old fool. Let us hope, my friend, that, whatever be our honest +worldly work, it may never lose its interest. We must always speak +humbly about the changes which coming time will work upon us, upon even +our firmest resolutions and most rooted principles; or I should say for +myself that I cannot even imagine myself the same being, with bent less +resolute and heart less warm to that best of all employments which is +the occupation of my life. But there are few things which, as we grow +older, impress us more deeply than the transitoriness of thoughts and +feelings in human hearts. + +Nor am I thinking of contemptible people only, when I say so. I am not +thinking of the fellow who is pulled up in court in an action for breach +of promise of marriage, and who in one letter makes vows of unalterable +affection, and in another letter, written a few weeks or months later, +tries to wriggle out of his engagement. Nor am I thinking of the weak, +though well-meaning lady, who devotes herself in succession to a great +variety of uneducated and unqualified religious instructors; who tells +you one week how she has joined the flock of Mr. A., the converted +prize-fighter, and how she regards him as by far the most improving +preacher she ever heard; and who tells you the next week that she has +seen through the prize-fighter, that he has gone and married a wealthy +Roman Catholic, and that now she has resolved to wait on the ministry of +Mr. B., an enthusiastic individual who makes shoes during the week and +gives sermons on Sundays, and in whose addresses she finds exactly what +suits her. I speak of the better feelings and purposes of wiser, if not +better folk. Let me think here of pious emotions and holy resolutions, +of the best and purest frames of heart and mind. Oh, if we could all +always remain at our best! And after all, permanence is the great test. +In the matter of Christian faith and feeling, in the matter of all our +worthier principles and purposes, that which lasts longest is best. +This, indeed, is true of most things. The worth of anything depends much +upon its durability,--upon the wear that is in it. A thing that is +merely a fine flash and over only disappoint. The highest authority has +recognized this. You remember Who said to his friends, before leaving +them, that He would have them bring forth fruit, and much fruit. But +not even _that_ was enough. The fairest profession for a time, the most +earnest labor for a time, the most ardent affection for a time, would +not suffice. And so the Redeemer's words were,--"I have chosen you, and +ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that _your +fruit should remain."_ Well, let us trust, that, in the most solemn of +all respects, only progress shall be brought to us by all the changes of +Future Years. + +But it is quite vain to think that feelings, as distinguished from +principles, shall not lose much of their vividness, freshness, and +depth, as time goes on. You cannot now by any effort revive the +exultation you felt at some unexpected great success, nor the +heart-sinking of some terrible loss or trial. You know how women, after +the death of a child, determine that every day, as long as they live, +they will visit the little grave. And they do so for a time, +sometimes for a long time; but they gradually leave off. You know how +burying-places are very trimly and carefully kept at first, and how +flowers are hung upon the stone; but these things gradually cease. You +know how many husbands and wives, after their partner's death, determine +to give the remainder of life to the memory of the departed, and would +regard with sincere horror the suggestion that it was possible they +should ever marry again; but after a while they do. And you will even +find men, beyond middle age, who made a tremendous work at their first +wife's death, and wore very conspicuous mourning, who in a very few +months may be seen dangling after some new fancy, and who in the +prospect of their second marriage evince an exhilaration that approaches +to crackiness. It is usual to speak of such things in a ludicrous +manner; but I confess the matter seems to me anything but one to laugh +at. I think that the rapid dying out of warm feelings, the rapid +change of fixed resolutions, is one of the most sorrowful subjects of +reflection which it is possible to suggest. Ah, my friends, after we +die, it would not be expedient, even if it were possible, to come back. +Many of us would not like to find how very little they miss us. But +still, it is the manifest intention of the Creator that strong feelings +should be transitory. The sorrowful thing is when they pass and leave +absolutely no trace behind them. There should always he some corner kept +in the heart for a feeling which once possessed it all. Let us look at +the case temperately. Let us face and admit the facts. The healthy body +and mind can get over a great deal; but there are some things which it +is not to the credit of our nature should ever be entirely got over. +Here are sober truth, and sound philosophy, and sincere feeling +together, in the words of Philip van Artevelde:-- + + "Well, well, she's gone, + And I have tamed my sorrow. Pain and grief + Are transitory things, no less than joy; + And though they leave us not the men we were, + Yet they do leave us. You behold me here, + A man bereaved, with something of a blight + Upon the early blossoms of his life, + And its first verdure,--having not the less + A living root, and drawing from the earth + Its vital juices, from the air its powers: + And surely as man's heart and strength are whole, + His appetites regerminate, his heart + Reopens, and his objects and desires + Spring up renewed." + +But though Artevelde speaks truly and well, you remember how Mr. +Taylor, in that noble play, works out to our view the sad sight of the +deterioration of character, the growing coarseness and harshness, +the lessening tenderness and kindliness, which are apt to come with +advancing years. Great trials, we know, passing over us, may influence +us either for the worse or the better; and unless our nature is a very +obdurate and poor one, though they may leave us, they will not leave us +the men we were. Once, at a public meeting, I heard a man in eminent +station make a speech. I had never seen him before; but I remembered an +inscription which I had read, in a certain churchyard far away, upon the +stone that marked the resting-place of his young wife, who had died many +years before. I thought of its simple words of manly and hearty sorrow. +I knew that the eminence he had reached had not come till she who would +have been proudest of it was beyond knowing it or caring for it. And I +cannot say with what interest and satisfaction I thought I could trace, +in the features which were sad without the infusion of a grain of +sentimentalism, in the subdued and quiet tone of the man's whole aspect +and manner and address, the manifest proof that he had not shut down the +leaf upon that old page of his history, that he had never quite got over +that great grief of earlier years. One felt better and more hopeful for +the sight. I suppose many people, after meeting some overwhelming loss +or trial, have fancied that they would soon die; but that is almost +invariably a delusion. Various dogs have died of a broken heart, but +very few human beings. The Inferior creature has pined away at his +master's loss: as for _us_, it is not that one would doubt the depth +and sincerity of sorrow, but that there is more endurance in our +constitution, and that God has appointed that grief shall rather mould +and influence than kill. It is a much sadder sight than an early death, +to see human beings live on after heavy trial, and sink into something +very unlike their early selves and very inferior to their early selves. +I can well believe that many a human being, if he could have a glimpse +in innocent youth of what he will be twenty or thirty years after, would +pray in anguish to be taken before coming to _that!_ Mansie Wauch's +glimpse of destitution was bad enough; but a million times worse is a +glimpse of hardened and unabashed sin and shame. And it would be no +comfort--it would be an aggravation in that view--to think that by the +time you have reached that miserable point, you will have grown pretty +well reconciled to it. _That_ is the worst of all. To be wicked and +depraved, and to feel it, and to be wretched under it, is bad enough; +but it is a great deal worse to have fallen into that depth of moral +degradation and to feel that really you don't care. The instinct of +accommodation is not always a blessing. It is happy for us, that, though +in youth we hoped to live in a castle or a palace, we can make up our +mind to live in a little parsonage or a quiet street in a country town. +It is happy for us, that, though in youth we hoped to be very great and +famous, we are so entirely reconciled to being little and unknown. But +it is not happy for the poor girl who walks the Haymarket at night that +she feels her degradation so little. It is not happy that she has come +to feel towards her miserable life so differently now from what she +would have felt towards it, had it been set before her while she was the +blooming, thoughtless creature in the little cottage in the country. It +is only by fits and starts that the poor drunken wretch, living in a +garret upon a little pittance allowed him by his relations, who was once +a man of character and hope, feels what a sad pitch he has come to. If +you could get him to feel it constantly, there would be some hope of his +reclamation even yet. + +It seems to me a very comforting thought, in looking on to Future Years, +if you are able to think that you are in a profession or a calling from +which you will never retire. For the prospect of a total change in your +mode of life, and the entire cessation of the occupation which for many +years employed the greater part of your waking thoughts, and all this +amid the failing powers and flagging hopes of declining years, is both a +sad and a perplexing prospect to a thoughtful person. For such a person +cannot regard this great change simply in the light of a rest from toil +and worry; he will know quite well what a blankness and listlessness and +loss of interest in life will come of feeling all at once that you have +nothing at all to do. And so it is a great blessing, if your vocation be +one which is a dignified and befitting one for an old man to be engaged +in, one that beseems his gravity--and his long experience, one that +beseems even his slow movements and his white hairs. It is a pleasant +thing to see an old man a judge; his years become the judgment-seat. But +then the old man can hold such an office only while he retains strength +of body and mind efficiently to perform its duties; and he must do all +his work for himself: and accordingly a day must come when the venerable +Chancellor resigns the Great Seal; when the aged Justice or Baron must +give up his place; and when these honored Judges, though still retaining +considerable vigor, but vigor less than enough for their hard work, are +compelled to feel that their occupation is gone. And accordingly I +hold that what is the best of all professions, for many reasons, is +especially so for this, that you need never retire from it. In the +Church you need not do all your duty yourself. You may get assistance to +supplement your own lessening strength. The energetic young curate or +curates may do that part of the parish work which exceeds the power of +the aging incumbent, while the entire parochial machinery has still the +advantage of being directed by his wisdom and experience, and while the +old man is still permitted to do what he can with such strength as is +spared to him, and to feel that he is useful in the noblest cause yet. +And even to extremest age and frailty,--to age and frailty which would +long since have incapacitated the judge for the bench,--the parish +clergyman may take some share in the much-loved duty in which he has +labored so long. He may still, though briefly, and only now and then, +address his flock from the pulpit, in words which his very feebleness +will make far more touchingly effective than the most vigorous eloquence +and the richest and fullest tones of his young coadjutors. There never +will be, within the sacred walls, a silence and reverence more +profound than when the withered kindly face looks as of old upon the +congregation, to whose fathers its owner first ministered, and which has +grown up mainly under his instruction,--and when the voice that falls +familiarly on so many ears tells again, quietly and earnestly, the old +story which we all need so much to hear. And he may still look in at the +parish school, and watch the growth of a generation that is to do the +work of life when he is in his grave; and kindly smooth the children's +heads; and tell them how One, once a little child, and never more +than a young man, brought salvation alike to young and old. +He may still sit by the bedside of the sick and dying, and +speak to such with the sympathy and the solemnity of one who does +not forget that the last great realities are drawing near to both. But +there are vocations which are all very well for young or middle-aged +people, but which do not quite suit the old. Such is that of the +barrister. Wrangling and hair-splitting, browbeating and bewildering +witnesses, making coarse jokes to excite the laughter of common +jury-men, and addressing such with clap-trap bellowings, are not the +work for gray-headed men. If such remain at the bar, rather let them +have the more refined work of the Equity Courts, where you +address judges, and not juries; and where you spare clap-trap and +misrepresentation, if for no better reason, because you know that these +will not stand you in the slightest stead. The work which best befits +the aged, the work for which no mortal can ever become too venerable and +dignified or too weak and frail, is the work of Christian usefulness and +philanthropy. And it is a beautiful sight to see, as I trust we all have +seen, _that_ work persevered in with the closing energies of life. It +is a noble test of the soundness of the principle that prompted to its +first undertaking. It is a hopeful and cheering sight to younger men, +looking out with something of fear to the temptations and trials of the +years before them. Oh! if the gray-haired clergyman, with less now, +indeed, of physical strength and mere physical warmth, yet preaches, +with the added weight and solemnity of his long experience, the same +blessed doctrines now, after forty years, that he preached in his +early prime; if the philanthropist of half a century since is the +philanthropist still,--still kind, hopeful, and unwearied, though with +the snows of age upon his head, and the hand that never told its fellow +of what it did now trembling as it does the deed of mercy; then I think +that even the most doubtful will believe that the principle and the +religion of such men were a glorious reality! The sternest of all +touchstones of the genuineness of our better feelings is the fashion in +which they stand the wear of years. + +But my shortening space warns me to stop; and I must cease, for the +present, from these thoughts of Future Years,--cease, I mean, from +writing about that mysterious tract before us: who can cease from +thinking of it? You remember how the writer of that little poem which +has been quoted asks Time to touch gently him and his. Of course he +spoke as a poet, stating the case fancifully,--but not forgetting, that, +when we come to sober sense, we must prefer our requests to an Ear more +ready to hear us and a Hand more ready to help. It is not to Time that I +shall apply to lead me through life into immortality! And I cannot think +of years to come without going back to a greater poet, whom we need not +esteem the less because his inspiration was loftier than that of the +Muses, who has summed up so grandly in one comprehensive sentence all +the possibilities which could befall _him_ in the days and ages before +him. "Thou shall guide me with Thy counsel, and afterward receive me to +glory!" Let us humbly trust that in that sketch, round and complete, of +all that can ever come to us, my readers and I may be able to read the +history of our Future Years! + + + + +BROTHER JONATHAN'S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE. + + + She has gone,--she has left us in passion and pride,-- + Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side! + She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow, + And turned on her brother the face of a foe! + + O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, + We can never forget that our hearts have been one,-- + Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty's name, + From the fountain of blood with the finger of flame! + + You were always too ready to fire at a touch; + But we said, "She is hasty,--she does not mean much." + We have scowled, when you uttered some turbulent threat; + But Friendship still whispered, "Forgive and forget!" + + Has our love all died out? Have its altars grown cold? + Has the curse come at last which the fathers foretold? + Then Nature must teach us the strength of the chain + That her petulant children would sever in vain. + + They may fight till the buzzards are gorged with their spoil, + Till the harvest grows black as it rots in the soil, + Till the wolves and the catamounts troop from their caves, + And the shark tracks the pirate, the lord of the waves: + + In vain is the strife! When its fury is past, + Their fortunes must flow in one channel at last, + As the torrents that rush from the mountains of snow + Roll mingled in peace through the valleys below. + + Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky: + Man breaks not the medal, when God cuts the die! + Though darkened with sulphur, though cloven with steel, + The blue arch will brighten, the waters will heal! + + O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, + There are battles with Fate that can never be won! + The star-flowering banner must never be furled, + For its blossoms of light are the hope of the world! + + Go, then, our rash sister! afar and aloof,-- + Run wild in the sunshine away from our roof; + But when your heart aches and your feet have grown sore, + Remember the pathway that leads to our door! + + + + +ORIGINAL MEMORIALS OF MRS. PIOZZI. + + +Ninety years ago, one of the pleasantest houses near London, for the +society that gathered within it, was Mr., or rather, Mrs. Thrale's, +at Streatham Park. To be a guest there was to meet the best people in +England, and to hear such good talk that much of it has not lost its +flavor even yet. Strawberry Hill, Holland House, or any other famous +house of that day, has left but faint memories of itself, compared with +those of Streatham. Boswell, the most sagacious of men in the hunt after +good company, had the good wit and good fortune to get entrance here. +One day, in 1769, Dr. Johnson delivered him "a very polite card" from +Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, inviting him to Streatham. "On the 6th of October, +I complied," he says, "with their obliging invitation, and found, at +an elegant villa six miles from town, every circumstance that can make +society pleasing." Upon the walls of the library hung portraits of the +master and mistress of the house, and of their most familiar friends and +guests, all by Sir Joshua. Madame d'Arblay, in her most entertaining +"Diary," gives a list of them,--and a list is all that is needed of such +famous names. "Mrs. Thrale and her eldest daughter were in one piece, +over the fireplace, at full length. The rest of the pictures were all +three-quarters. Mr. Thrale was over the door leading to his study. +The general collection then began by Lord Sandys and Lord Westcote, +(Lyttelton,) two early noble friends of Mr. Thrale. Then followed Dr. +Johnson, Mr. Burke, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Murphy, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Baretti, +Sir Robert Chambers, and Sir Joshua Reynolds himself,--all painted in +the highest style of this great master, who much delighted in this his +Streatham Gallery. There was place left but for one more frame when the +acquaintance with Dr. Burney began at Streatham." + +A household which had such men for its intimates must have had a more +than common charm in itself, and at Streatham this charm lay chiefly in +the character of its mistress. It was Mrs. Thrale who had the rare power +"to call together the most select company when it pleased her." In 1770 +she was thirty years old. A small and not beautiful woman, but with +a variety of expression that more than compensated for the want of +handsome features, with a frank, animated manner, and that highest tact +which sets guests at ease, there was something specially attractive in +her first address. But beyond this she was the pleasantest converser of +all the ladies of the day. In that art in which one "has all mankind for +competitors," there was no one equal to her in her way. Gifted with the +readiest of well-stored memories, with a lively wit and sprightly fancy, +with a strong desire to please and an ambition to shine, she never +failed to win admiration, while her sweetness of temper and delicate +consideration for others gained for her a general regard. For many years +she was the friend who did most to make Johnson's life happy. He was a +constant inmate at Streatham. "I long thought you," wrote he, "the first +of womankind." It was her "kindness which soothed twenty years of a life +radically wretched." "To see and hear you," he wrote, "is always to hear +wit and to see virtue." She belonged, in truth, to the most serviceable +class of women,--by no means to the highest order of her sex. She was +not a woman of deep heart, or of noble or tender feeling; but she had +kindly and ready sympathies, and such a disposition to please as gave +her the capacity of pleasing. Her very faults added to her success. She +was vain and ambitious; but her vanity led her to seek the praises of +others, and her ambition taught her how to gain them. She was selfish; +but she pleased herself not at the expense of others, but by paying them +attentions which returned to her in personal gratifications. She was +made for such a position as that which she held at Streatham. The +highest eulogy of her is given in an incidental way by Boswell. He +reports Johnson as saying one day, "'How few of his friends' houses +would a man choose to be at when he is sick!' He mentioned one or two. I +recollect only Thrale's." + +All the world of readers know the main incidents of Mrs. Thrale's life. +Her own books, Boswell, Madame d'Arblay, have made us almost as familiar +with her as with Dr. Johnson himself. Not yet have people got tired of +wondering at her marriage with Piozzi, or of amusing themselves with +the gossip of the old lady who remained a wit at eighty years old, and, +having outlived her great contemporaries, was happy in not outliving +her own faculties. Few characters not more remarkable have been more +discussed than hers. Macaulay, with characteristic unfairness, gave +a view of her conduct which Mr. Hayward, in his recently published +entertaining volumes,[A] shows to have been in great part the invention +of the great essayist's lively and unprincipled imagination. In the +autobiographical memorials of Mrs. Piozzi, now for the first time +printed, there is much that throws light on her life, and her relations +with her contemporaries. They do not so much raise one's respect for +her, as present her to us as a very natural and generally likable sort +of woman, even in those acts of her life which have been the most +blamed. + +[Footnote A: _Autobiography, Letters, and Literary Remains of Mrs. +Piozzi (Thrale)_. Edited, with Notes and an Introductory Account of her +Life and Writings, by A. Hayward, Esq., Q.C. In Two Volumes. London, +1861. Reprinted by Ticknor & Fields.] + +If she had but died while she was mistress of Streatham, we should have +only delightful recollections of her. She would have been one of the +most agreeable famous women on record. But the last forty years of her +life were not as charming as the first. Her weaknesses gained mastery +over her, her vanity led her into follies, and she who had once been the +favorite correspondent of Dr. Johnson now appears as the correspondent +of such inferior persona that no association is connected with their +names. Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. Piozzi are two different persons. One +belongs to Streatham, the other to Bath; one is "always young and always +pretty," the other a rouged old woman. But it is unfair to push the +contrast too far. Mrs. Piozzi at seventy or eighty was as sprightly, +as good-natured, as Mrs. Thrale at thirty or forty. She never lost her +vivacity, never her desire to please. But it is a sadly different thing +to please Dr. Johnson, Burke, or Sir Joshua, and to please + + Those real genuine no-mistake Tom Thumbs, + The little people fed on great men's crumbs. + +One of the most marked and least satisfactory expressions of Mrs. +Piozzi's character during her later years was a fancy that she took to +Conway, a young and handsome actor, who appeared in Bath, where she was +then living, in the year 1819. From the time of her first acquaintance +with him, till her death, in 1821, she treated him with the most +flattering regard,--with an affection, indeed, that might be called +motherly, had there not been in it an element of excitement which was +neither maternal nor dignified. Conway was a gentleman in feeling, and +seems to have had not only a grateful sense of the old lady's partiality +for him, but a sincere interest also in hearing from her of the days and +the friends of her youth. So she wrote letters to him, gave him books +filled with annotations, (it was a favorite habit of hers to write notes +on the margins of books,) wrote for him the story of her life, and drew +on the resources of her marvellous memory for his amusement. The old +woman's kindness was one of the few bright things in poor Conway's +unhappy life. His temperament was morbidly sensitive; and when, in 1821, +while acting in London, Theodore Hook attacked him in the most cruel +and offensive manner in the columns of the "John Bull," he threw up his +engagement, determined to act no more in London, and for a time left the +stage. A year or two afterwards he came to this country, and met with a +very considerable success. But he fancied himself underrated, and, after +performing in Philadelphia in the winter of 1826, he took passage for +Charleston, and on the voyage threw himself overboard and was lost. His +effects were afterwards sold by auction in New York. Among them were +many interesting relics and memorials of Mrs. Piozzi. Mr. Hayward +mentions "a copy of the folio edition of Young's 'Night Thoughts,' in +which he had made a note of its having been presented to him by his +'dearly attached friend, the celebrated Mrs. Piozzi.'" But there were +other books of far greater interest and value than this. There was, as +we have been informed, a copy of Malone's Shakspeare, with numerous +notes in the handwriting of Dr. Johnson,--and a copy of "Prayers and +Meditations by Samuel Johnson," with several additional manuscript +prayers, and Mrs. Piozzi's name upon one of the fly-leaves. But more +curious still was a copy of Mrs. Piozzi's "Journey through France, +Italy, and Germany," both volumes of which are full of marginal notes, +while, inserted at the beginning and the end, are many pages of Mrs. +Piozzi's beautifully written manuscript, containing a narrative and +anecdotes of portions of her life. These volumes now lie before us,[B] +and their unpublished contents are as lively, as entertaining, and as +rich in autobiographic illustration, as any of the material of which Mr. +Hayward's recent book is composed. + +[Footnote B: This unique copy of the _Journey through France_, etc., is +in the possession of Mr. Duncan C. Pell, of Newport, R.I. It is to his +liberality that we are indebted for the privilege of laying before +the readers of the Atlantic the following portions of Mrs. Piozzi's +manuscript.] + +On the first fly-leaf is the following inscription:-- + +"These Books do not in any wise belong to me; they are the property of +William Augustus Conway, Esq., who left them to my care, for purpose of +putting notes, when he quitted Bath, May 14, 1819. + +"Hester Lynch Piozzi writes this for fear lest her death happening +before his return, these books might be confounded among the others in +her study." + +On the next page the narrative begins, and with a truly astonishing +spirit for the writing of a woman in her eightieth year. Her old +vivacity is still natural to her; there is nothing forced in the +pleasantry of this introduction. + +"A Lady once--'t was many years ago--asked me to lend her a book out +of my library at Streatham Park. 'A book of entertainment,' said J, 'of +course.' 'That I don't know or rightly comprehend;' was her odd answer; +'I wish for an _Abridgment_.' 'An Abridgment of what?' '_That_,' she +replied, 'you must tell _me_, my Dear; for I am no reader, like you and +Dr. Johnson; I only remember that the last book I read was very pretty, +and my husband called it an Abridgment.'.... And if I give some account +of myself here in these few little sheets prefixed to my 'Journey thro' +Italy,' you must kindly accept + +"The Abridgment." + +The first pages of the manuscript are occupied by Mrs. Piozzi with an +account of her family and of her own early life. They contain in brief +the same narrative that she gave in her "Autobiographical Memoirs," +printed by Mr. Hayward, in his first volume. Here is a story, however, +which we do not remember to have seen before. + +"My heart was free, my head full of Authors, Actors, Literature in every +shape; and I had a dear, dear friend, an old Dr. Collier, who said he +was sixty-six years old, I remember, the day I was sixteen, and whose +instructions I prized beyond all the gayeties of early life: nor have I +ever passed a day since we parted in which I have not recollected with +gratitude the boundless obligations that I owe him. He was intimate with +the famous James Harris of Salisbury, Lord Malmesbury's father, of whom +you have heard how Charles Townshend said, when he took his seat in the +House of Commons,--'Who is this man?'--to his next neighbour; +'I never saw him before.' 'Who? Why, Harris the author, that wrote one +book about Grammar [so he did] and one about Virtue.' 'What does he come +here for?' replies Spanish Charles; 'he will find neither Grammar nor +Virtue _here_.' Well, my dear old Dr. Collier had much of both, and +delighted to shake the superflux of his full mind over mine, ready to +receive instruction conveyed with so much tender assiduity." + +In both her autobiographies, the printed as well as the manuscript, Mrs. +Piozzi speaks in very cold and disparaging terms of her first husband, +Mr. Thrale. Her marriage with him had not been a love-match; but we +suspect that the long course of years had been unfavorable to his memory +in her recollection, and that the blame with which his friends visited +her second marriage, which was in all respects an affair of the heart, +produced in her a certain bitterness of feeling toward Mr. Thrale, as if +he had been the author of these reproaches. It is impossible to believe +that he was as indifferent to her as she represents, and that her +marriage with him was not moderately happy. Had it been otherwise, +however well appearances might have been kept up, Dr. Johnson could +hardly have been deceived concerning the truth, and would hardly have +ventured to write to her in his letter of consolation upon Mr. Thrale's +death in 1781,-- + +"He that has given you happiness in marriage, to a degree of which, +without personal knowledge, I should have thought the description +fabulous, can give you another mode of happiness as a mother." + +One of her most decided intellectual characteristics was her +versatility, or, to give it a harder name, what Johnson called her +"instability of attention." Dulness was, in her code, the unpardonable +sin. Variety was the charm of life, and of books. She never dwelt long +on one idea. Her letters and her books are pieces of mosaic-work, the +bits of material being put together without any regular pattern, but +often with a pretty effect. Here is an illustration of her style. + +"In a few years (our Letters tell the date) Johnson was introduced; and +now I must laugh at a ridiculous _Retrospection_. When I was a very +young wench, scarce twelve years old I trust, my notice was strongly +attracted by a Mountebank in some town we were passing through. 'What a +fine fellow!' said I; 'dear Papa, do ask him to dinner with us at our +inn!--or, at least, Merry Andrew, because he could tell us such _clever +stories of his master_.' My Father laughed sans intermission an hour by +the dial, as Jacques once at Motley.--Yet did dear Mr. Conway's fancy +for H.L.P.'s conversation grow up, at first, out of something not unlike +this, when, his high-polished mind and fervid imagination taking fire +from the tall Beacon bearing Dr. Johnson's fame above the clouds, he +thought some information might perhaps be gained by talk with the old +female who so long _carried coals to it_. She has told all, or nearly +all, she knew,-- + + 'And like poor Andrew must advance, + Mean mimic of her master's dance;-- + But similes, like songs in love, + Describing much, too little prove.' + +"So now, leaving Prior's pretty verses, and leaving Dr. Johnson too, who +was himself severely censured for his rough criticism on a writer who +had pleased all in our Augustan age of Literature, poor H.L.P. turns +egotist at eighty, and tells her own adventures." + +But the octogenarian egotist has something to tell about beside herself. +Here is a passage of interest to the student of Shakspearian localities, +and bearing on a matter in dispute from the days of Malone and Chalmers. + +"For a long time, then,--or I thought it such,--my fate was bound up +with the old Globe Theatre, upon the Bankside, Southwark; the alley it +had occupied having been purchased and thrown down by Mr. Thrale to +make an opening before the windows of our dwelling-house. When it lay +desolate in a black heap of rubbish, my Mother, one day, in joke, +called it the Ruins of Palmyra; and after they had laid it down in a +grass-plot, Palmyra was the name it went by, I suppose, among the clerks +and servants of the brew-house; for when the Quaker Barclay bought the +whole, I read that name with wonder in the Writings."--"But there +were really curious remains of the old Globe Playhouse, which, though +hexagonal in form without, was round within, as circles contain more +space than other shapes, and Bees make their cells in hexagons only +because that figure best admits of junction. Before I quitted the +premises, however, I learned that Tarleton, the actor of those times, +was not buried at St. Saviour's, Southwark, as he wished, near Massinger +and Cower, but at Shoreditch Church. _He_ was the first of the +profession whose fame was high enough to have his portrait solicited for +to be set up as a Sign; and none but he and Garrick, I believe, ever +obtained that honour. Mr. Dance's picture of our friend David lives in a +copy now in Oxford St.,--the character, King Richard." + +Somewhat more than three years after her first husband's death, Mrs. +Thrale, in spite of the opposition of her friends, the repugnance of +her daughters, and the sneers of society, married Piozzi. He was a poor +Italian gentleman, whose only fortune was in his voice and his musical +talent. He had been for some time an admired public singer in London and +Paris. There was nothing against him but the opinion of society. Mrs. +Thrale set this opinion at defiance: a rash thing for a woman to do, and +hardly an excusable one in her case; for she was aware that she would +thus alienate her daughters, and offend her best friends. But she was in +love with him; and though for a time she tried to struggle against her +passion, it finally prevailed over her prudence, her pride, and such +affections as she had for others. Her health suffered during +the struggle, the termination of which she thus narrates in her +"Abridgment." The account differs in some slight particulars from that +in her "Autobiographical Memoirs"; but a comparison between the two +serves rather to confirm than to impugn her general accuracy. + +"I hoped," she says, "in defiance of probability, to live my sorrows +out, and marry the man of my choice. Health, however, began to give +way, as my Letters to Dr. Johnson testify; and when my kind physician, +Dobson, from Liverpool, found it in actual and positive danger,--'Now,' +said he, 'I have respected your delicacy long enough; tell me at once +who he is that holds _such_ a life in his power: for write to him I must +and will; it is my sacred duty.' 'Dear Sir,' said I, 'the difficulty +is to keep him at a distance. Speak to these cruel girls, if you will +speak.' 'One of whose lives your assiduous tenderness,' cried he, +'saved, with my little help, only a month ago!'--and ran up-stairs to +the ladies. 'We know,' was their reply, 'that she is fretting after a +fellow; but where he is--you may ask her--we know not.' 'He is at Milan, +with his friend the Marquis of Aracieli,' said I,--'from whom I had a +letter last week, requesting Piozzi's recall from banishment, as he +gallantly terms it, little conscious of what I suffer.' So we wrote; and +he returned on the eleventh day after receiving the letter. Meanwhile +my health mended, and I waited on the lasses to their own house at +Brighthelmstone, leaving Miss Nicholson, a favorite friend of theirs, +and all their intolerably insolent servants, with them. Piozzi's return +accelerated the recovery of your poor friend, and we married in both +Churches,--at St. James', Bath, on St. James' Day, 1784,--thirty-five +years ago now that I write this Abridgment. When we came to examine +Papers, however, our attorney, Greenland, discovered a _suppression_ +of fifteen hundred pounds, which helped pay our debts, discharge the +mortgage, etc., as Piozzi, like Portia, permitted me not to sleep by his +side with an unquiet soul. He settled everything with his own money, +depended on God and my good constitution for our living long and happily +together,--and so we did, twenty-five years,--said change of scenery +would complete the cure, and carried me off in triumph, as he called +it, to shew his friends in Italy the foreign wife he had so long been +sighing for. 'Ah, Madam!' said the Marquis, when he first saluted me, +'we used to blame dear Piozzi;--now we envy him!'" + +Of Mrs. Piozzi's journey on the Continent we shall speak in another +article. After a residence abroad of two years and a half, she and her +husband returned to London in March, 1787. Mrs. Piozzi had come home +determined to resume, if it were possible, her old place in society, and +to assert herself against the attacks of wits and newspapers, and the +coldness of old friends. She had been hardly and unfairly dealt with +by the public, in regard to her marriage. The appearance, during +her absence, of her volume of "Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson" had given +unfriendly critics an opportunity to pass harsh judgment upon her +literary merits, and had excited the jealousy of rival biographers +of the dead lion. Boswell, Hawkins, Baretti, Chalmers, Peter Pindar, +Gifford, Horace Walpole, all had their fling at her. Never was an +innocent woman in private life more unfeelingly abused, or her name +dragged before the public more wantonly, in squibs and satires, jests +and innuendoes. The women who transgress social conventionalities are +often treated as if they had violated the rules of morals. But she was +not to be put down in this way. Her temperament enabled her to escape +much of the pain which a more sensitive person would have suffered. She +hardened herself against the malice of her satirists; and in doing so, +her character underwent an essential change. She was truly happy with +Piozzi, and she preserved, by strength of will, an inexhaustible fund of +good spirits. + +On first reaching London, "we drove," she writes in the Conway MSS., "to +the Royal Hotel in Pall Mall, and, arriving early, I proposed going to +the Play. There was a small front box, in those days, which held only +two; it made the division, or connexion, with the side boxes, and, +being unoccupied, we sat in it, and saw Mrs. Siddons act Imogen, I well +remember, and Mrs. Jordan, Priscilla Tomboy. Mr. Piozzi was amused, and +the next day was spent in looking at houses, counting the cards left +by old acquaintances, etc. The lady-daughters came, behaved with cold +civility, and asked what I thought of their decision concerning Cecilia, +then at school--No reply was made, or a gentle one; but she was the +first cause of contention among us. The lawyers gave her into my care, +and we took her home to our new habitation in Hanover Square, which we +opened with Music, cards, etc., on, I think, the 22 March. Miss Thrales +refused their company; so we managed as well as we could. Our affairs +were in good order, and money ready for spending. The World, as it is +called, appeared good-humored, and we were soon followed, respected, and +admired. The summer months sent us about visiting and pleasuring, ... +and after another gay London season, Streatham Park, unoccupied by +tenants, called us as if _really home_. Mr. Piozzi, with more generosity +than prudence, spent two thousand pounds on repairing and furnishing it +in 1790;--and we had danced all night, I recollect, when the news came +of Louis Seize's escape from, and recapture by, his rebel subjects." + +Poor old woman, who could thus write of her own daughters!--poor old +woman, who had not heart enough either to keep the love of her children +or to grieve for its loss! Cecilia was her fourth and youngest child, +and her story, as her mother tells it, may as well be finished here. +After speaking in her manuscript of a claim on some Oxfordshire +property, disputed by her daughters, she says, in words hard and cold +as steel,--"We threw it up, therefore, and contented ourselves with the +plague Cecilia gave us, who, by dint of intriguing lovers, teazed my +soul out before she was fifteen,--when she fortunately ran away, +jumping out of the window at Streatham Park, with Mr. Mostyn of +Segraid,--a young man to whom Sir Thomas Mostyn's title will go, if he +does not marry, but whose property, being much encumbered, made him no +match for Cecy and her forty thousand pounds; and we were censured +for not taking better care, and suffering her to wed a _Welsh_ +gentleman,--object of ineffable contempt to the daughters of Mr. Thrale, +with whom she always held correspondence while living with us, who +indulged her in every expense and every folly,--although allowed only +one hundred and forty pounds per ann. on her account." + +After two or three years spent in London, the Piozzis resided for some +time at Streatham,--how changed in mistress and in guests from the +Streatham of which Mrs. Thrale had been the presiding genius! But after +a while they removed to Wales, where, on an old family estate belonging +to Mrs. Piozzi, they built a house, and christened the place with the +queer Welsh-Italian compound name of Brynbella. "Mr. Piozzi built the +house for me, he said; my own old chateau, Bachygraig by name, tho' very +curious, was wholly uninhabitable; and we called the Italian villa he +set up as mine in the Vale of Cluid, North Wales, Brynbella, or the +beautiful brow, making the name half Welsh and half Italian, as we +were." Here they lived, with occasional visits to other places, during +the remainder of Piozzi's life. "Our head quarters were in Wales, where +dear Piozzi repaired my church, built a new vault for my old ancestors, +chose the place in it where he and I are to repose together..... He +lived some twenty-five years with me, however, but so punished with +Gout that we found Bath the best wintering-place for many, many +seasons.--Mrs. Siddons' last appearance there he witnessed, when she +played Calista to Dimond's Lothario, in which he looked _so_ like +Garrick it shocked us _all three_, I believe; for Garrick adored Mr. +Piozzi, and Siddons hated the little great man to her heart. Poor +Dimond! he was a well-bred, pleasing, worthy creature, and did the +honours of his own house and table with peculiar grace indeed. No +likeness in private life or manner,--none at all; no wit, no fun, no +frolic humour had Mr. Dimond:--no grace, no dignity, no real unaffected +elegance of mien or behaviour had his predecessor, David,--whose +partiality to my fastidious husband was for that reason never returned. +Merriment, difficult for _him_ to comprehend, made no amends for the +want of that which no one understood better;--so he hated all the wits +but Murphy." + +And now that we are on anecdotes of the Theatre, here is another good +story, which belongs to a somewhat earlier time, but of which Mrs. +Piozzi does not mention the exact date. "The Richmond Theatre at that +time attracted all literary people's attention, while a Coterie of +Gentlemen and Noblemen and Ladies entertained themselves with getting up +Plays, and acting them at the Duke of Richmond's house, Whitehall. Lee's +'Theodosius' was the favorite. Lord Henry Fitzgerald played Varanus very +well,--for a Dilettante; and Lord Derby did his part surprisingly. But +there was a song to be sung to Athenais, while she, resolving to take +poison, sits in a musing attitude. Jane Holman--then Hamilton--_would_ +sing an air of Sacchini, and the manager _would not_ hear Italian words. +The ballad appointed by the author was disapproved by all, and I pleased +everybody by my fortunate fancy of adapting some English verses to the +notes of Sacchini's song; and Jane Hamilton sung them enchantingly:-- + + 'Vain's the breath of Adulation, + Vain the tears of tenderest Passion, + Whilst a strong Imagination + Holds the wandering Mind away; + Art in vain attempts to borrow + Notes to soothe a rooted sorrow; + Fixed to die, and die to-morrow, + What can touch her soul to-day?' + +"The lines were printed, but I lost them. 'What a wild Tragedy is this!' +said I to Hannah More, who was one of the audience. 'Wild enough,' was +her reply; 'but there's good Poetry in it, and good Passion, _and they +will always do_.' + +"Hannah More never goes now to a Theatre. How long is H.L. Piozzi likely +to be seen there? How long will Mr. Conway keep the stage?" + +In the year 1798, the family of Mr. Piozzi having suffered greatly from +the French invasion of Lombardy, he sent for the son of his youngest +brother, a "little boy just turned of five years old." "We have got him +here," wrote Mrs. Piozzi in a letter from Bath, dated January, 1799, +published by Mr. Hayward, "and his uncle will take him to school next +week." "As he was by a lucky chance baptized, in compliment to me, John +Salusbury, [Salusbury was her family name,] he will be known in England +by no other, and it will be forgotten he is a foreigner." "My poor +little boy from Lombardy said, as I walked with him across our market, +'These are sheeps' heads, are they not, aunt? I saw a hasket of men's +heads at Brescia.'" Little John, though he went to school, was often at +home. After writing of the troubles with her own daughters, Mrs. Piozzi +says in the manuscript before us,--"Had we vexations enough? We had +certainly many pleasures. The house in Wales was beautiful, and the Boy +was beautiful too. Mr. Piozzi said I had spoiled my own children and was +spoiling his. My reply was, that I loved spoiling people, and hated any +one I could not spoil. Am I not now trying to spoil dear Mr. Conway?" + +Piozzi was not far from wrong in his judgment of her treatment of this +boy, if we may trust to her complaints of his coldness and indifference +to her. In 1814, at the time of his marriage, five years after Piozzi's +death, she gave to him her Welsh estate; and it may have been a greater +satisfaction to her than any gratification of the affections could have +afforded, to see him, before she died, high sheriff of his county, and +knighted as Sir John Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury. + +There was little gayety in the life at Brynbella, or at Bath,--and the +society that Mrs. Piozzi now saw was made up chiefly of new and for the +most part uninteresting acquaintances. The old Streatham set, with a few +exceptions, were dead, and of the few that remained none retained their +former relations with its mistress. But she suffered little from the +change, was contented to win and accept the flattery of inferior people, +and, instead of spending her faculties in soothing the "radically +wretched life" of Johnson, used them, perhaps not less happily, in +lightening the sufferings of Piozzi during his last years. She tells a +touching story of him in these days. + +"Piozzi's fine hand upon the organ and pianoforte deserted him. Gout, +such as I never knew, fastened on his fingers, distorting them into +every dreadful shape. ... A little girl, shewn to him as a musical +wonder of five years old, said,' Pray, Sir, why are your fingers wrapped +up in black silk so?' 'My Dear,' replied he, 'they are in mourning for +my Voice.' 'Oh, me!' cries the child, _'is she dead_?' He sung an easy +song, and the Baby exclaimed, 'Ah, Sir! you are very naughty,--you tell +fibs!' Poor Dears! and both gone now!!" + +There were no morbid sensibilities in Mrs. Piozzi's composition. She can +tell all her sorrows without ever a tear. A mark of exclamation looks +better than a blot. And yet she had suffered; but it had been with such +suffering as makes the soul hard rather than tender. The pages with +which she ends this narrative of her life are curiously characteristic. + +"When life was gradually, but perceptibly, closing round him [Piozzi] at +Bath, in 1808, I asked him if he would wish to converse with a Romish +priest,--we had full opportunity there. 'By no means,' said he. 'Call +Mr. Leman of the Crescent.' We did so,--poor Bessy ran and fetched him. +Mr. Piozzi received the blessed Sacrament at his hands; but recovered +sufficiently to go home and die in his own house. I sent for Salusbury, +but he came three hours too late,--his master, Mr. Shephard, with him. +In another year he went to Oxford, where he spent me above seven hundred +pounds per annum, and kept me in continual terror lest the bad habits of +the place should ruin him, body, soul, and purse. His old school-fellow, +Smythe Owen,--then. Pemberton,--accompanied him, and to that gentleman's +sister he of course gave his heart. The Lady and her friends took +advantage of my fondness, and insisted on my giving up the Welsh +estate. I did so, hoping to live at last with my own children, at +Streatham Park;--there, however, I found no solace of the sort. So, +after entangling my purse with new repairing and furnishing that place, +retirement to Bath with my broken heart and fortune was all I could wish +or expect. Thither I hasted, heard how the possessors of Brynbella, +lived and thrived, but + + 'Who set the twigs will he remember + Who is in haste to sell the timber?' + +"Well, no matter! One day before I left it there was talk how Love had +always Interest annexed to it. 'Nay, then,' said I, 'what is my love +for Salusbury?' 'Oh!' replied Shephard, 'there is Interest there. Mrs. +Piozzi cannot, could not, I am sure, exist without some one upon whom to +energize her affections; his Uncle is gone, and she is much obliged +to young Salusbury for being ready at her hand to pet and spoil; +her children will not suffer her to love them, and'--with a coarse +laugh--'what will she do when this fellow throws her off, as he soon +will?' Shephard was right enough. I sunk into a stupor, worse far +than all the torments I had endured: but when Canadian Indians take a +prisoner, dear Mr. Conway knows what agonies they put them to; the +man bears all without complaining,--smokes, dances, triumphs in his +anguish,-- + + 'For the son of Alcnoomak shall never complain.' + +"When a little remission comes, however, then comes the torpor too;--he +cannot then be waked by pain or moderate pleasure: and such was my +case, when your talents roused, your offered friendship opened my heart +to enjoyment Oh! never say hereafter that the obligations are on your +side. Without you, dulness, darkness, stagnation of every faculty would +have enveloped and extinguished all the powers of hapless + +"H.L.P." + +The picture that Mrs. Piozzi paints of herself in these last words is a +sad one. She herself was unconscious, however, of its real sadness. In +its unintentional revelations it shows us the feebleness without the +dignity of old age, vivacity without freshness of intellect, the +pretence without the reality of sentiment. "Hapless H.L.P."--to have +lived to eighty years, and to close the record of so long a life with +such words! + +A little more than a year after this "Abridgment" was written, in May, +1821, Mrs. Piozzi died. Her children, from whom she had lived separated, +were around her death-bed.[C] + +[Footnote C: It is but four years ago that the Viscountess Keith, Mrs. +Piozzi's eldest daughter, died. She was ninety-five years old. Her long +life connected our generation with that of Johnson and Burke. She was +the last survivor of the Streatham "set,"--for, as "Queeney," she had +held a not unimportant place in it. She was at Johnson's death-bed. At +their last interview he said,--"My dear child, we part forever in this +world; let us part as Christian friends should; let us pray together." + +It was in 1808 that Miss Thrale married Lord Keith, a distinguished +naval officer. + +In _The Gentleman's Magazine_, for May, 1657, is an interesting notice +of Lady Keith. "During many years," it is there said, "Viscountess Keith +held a distinguished position in the highest circles of the fashionable +world in London; but during the latter portion of her life.... her time +was almost entirely devoted to works of charity and to the performance +of religious duties. No one ever did more for the good of others, and +few ever did so much in so unostentatious a manner."] + +In judging her, it is to be borne in mind that the earlier and the later +portions of her life are widely different from each other. As we have +before said, Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. Piozzi are two distinct persons. Mrs. +Thrale, whom the world smiled upon, whom the wits liked and society +courted, who had the best men in England for her friends, is a woman who +will always be pleasant in memory. Her unaffected grace, her kindliness, +her good-humor, her talents, make her perpetually charming. She was +helped by her surroundings to be good, pleasant, and clever; and she +will always keep her place as one of the most attractive figures in the +circle which was formed by Johnson, and Burke, and Reynolds, and Fanny +Burney, and others scarcely less conspicuous. But Mrs. Piozzi, whom the +world frowned upon, whom the wits jeered at, and society neglected, +whose friends nobody now knows, will be best remembered and best liked +as having once been Mrs. Thrale. There is no great charge against her; +she was more sinned against than sinning; she was only weak and foolish, +only degenerated from her first excellence. And even in her old age some +traits of her youthful charms remain, and, seeing these, we regard +her with a tender compassion, and remember of her only the bright +helpfulness and freshness of her younger days, when Johnson "loved her, +esteemed her, reverenced her, and thought her the first of womankind." + + * * * * * + + +THE NIGER, AND ITS EXPLORERS. + + +A century ago, the interior of Africa was a sealed book to the civilized +world. Candace, Queen of the Ethiopians, had been noticed in Holy Writ; +the Nile with Thebes and Memphis on its banks, and a ship-canal to +the Red Sea with triremes on its surface, had not escaped the eye of +Herodotus: but the countries which gave birth to Queen and River were +alike unknown. The sunny fountains, the golden sands, the palmy plains +of Africa were to be traced in the verses of the poet; but he dealt +neither in latitude nor longitude. The maps presented a _terra +incognita_, or sterile mountains, where modern travellers have found +rivers, lakes, and alluvial basins,--or exhibited barren wastes, where +recent discoveries find rich meadows annually flowed, studded with +walled towns and cities, enlivened by herds of cattle, or cultivated in +plantations of maize and cotton. + +Although the northern coast of Africa had once been the granary of +Carthage and Rome, cultivation had receded, and the corn-ship of +antiquity had given place to the felucca of the corsair, preying upon +the commerce of Europe. A few caravans, laden with a little ivory and +gold-dust or a few packages of drugs and spices, crept across the +Desert, and the slave-trade principally, if not alone, drew to Africa +the attention of civilized nations. Egypt, Tripoli and Tunis, Turkey and +the Spanish Provinces, the West India Isles and the Southern States, +knew it as the mart where human beings were bought and sold; and +Christians were reconciled to the traffic by the hope that it might +contribute to the moral, if not physical, welfare of the captive, by his +removal to a more civilized region. + +During the last three centuries, millions of Africans have perished +either on their way to slavery or in exhausting toil under a tropical +sun; and the flag of England has been the most prominent in this +demoralizing traffic. But it is due to England to say, that, since she +withdrew from it, she has aimed to atone for the past by a noble +and persevering devotion to the improvement of Africa. By repeated +expeditions, by missions, treaties, colonies, and incentives to +commerce, she has spread her light over the interior, and is now +recognized both by the tribes of the Desert and by civilized nations as +the great protector of Africa, and both geography and commerce owe to +her most of their advances on the African continent. + +So little was known of Africa, that, when Mungo Park made his report, in +1798, of the discovery of the Niger, and described large cities on its +banks, and vessels of fifty tons burden navigating its waters, the world +was incredulous; and his subsequent fate threw a cloud over the subject +which was not entirely dispelled until his course was traced and his +statements verified by modern travellers. + +The route of Dr. Park was from the west coast, near Sierra Leone, to the +upper branches of the Niger. On his second expedition he took with him +a detachment of British soldiers, and a number of civilians, fresh from +England, none of whom survived him. It appears from his journal that his +men followed the foot-paths of the natives, slept in the open air, were +exposed to the dews at night, and were overtaken by the rainy season +before they embarked upon the Niger. Unacclimated, with no proper means +of conveyance, no suitable clothing, and no precautions against +the fever of the country, they nearly all became victims to their +indiscretions. Park, however, at length launched his schooner on the +Niger, passed the city of Timbuctoo, and, with two or three Englishmen, +followed the river more than a thousand miles to Boussa. Reaching the +rapids at this point in a low stage of the water, he was so indiscreet +as to fire on the natives, and was drowned in his attempt to escape from +them; but his fate remained in uncertainty for eighteen years. + +The long struggle with Napoleon, the fearful loss of life which attended +the journey of Park, and the doubts as to his fate, checked for many +years the exploration of Africa. In 1821, a third attempt to explore +the Niger was made by a Major Laing, who failed in his efforts to reach +Timbuctoo, and fell a victim to Mahometan intolerance. + +In 1822, a new effort was made by England to reach the interior, and +Messrs. Denham and Clapperton joined the caravan from Tripoli, and +crossed the Desert to the Soudan. They explored the country to the ninth +degree of north latitude, found large Negro and Mahometan states in the +interior, and visited Saccatoo, Kano, Murfeia, Tangalra, and other large +towns, some of which contained twenty or thirty thousand people. + +In their journal we find a vivid sketch of a Negro army marching from +Bornou to the South, with horsemen in coats-of-mail, as in the days of +chivalry, and armed, as in those days, with lances and bows and arrows. +A glowing description is given of the ravages that attended their march. +When they entered an enemy's country, desolation marked their path, +houses and corn-fields were destroyed, all the full-grown males were put +to death, and the women and children reduced to servitude. + +It was obvious that an incessant struggle was in progress between the +Mahometan and Negro states, and that the Mahometan faith and Arab blood +were slowly gaining an ascendency over the Negro even down to the +equator. The conquering tribes, by intermarriage with the females, +were gradually changing the race, and introducing greater energy and +intelligence; and the mixed races have exhibited great proficiency in +various branches of manufacture. The invaders took with them large herds +of cattle, and pursued a pastoral life, leaving the culture of the land +principally to the Negro. + +In 1825 Clapperton made his second expedition to the interior, +accompanied by Richard Lander. In this journey the adventurous +travellers landed at Badagry, and crossed through Yarriba to the Niger. +On their way they spent several days at Katunga, the capital of Yarriba, +a city so extensive that one of its streets is described as five miles +in length. The town of Koofo, with twenty thousand inhabitants, as also +large cotton-plantations, are mentioned by these travellers; and some +idea of the territory they explored may be formed from the following +extract from their narrative:-- + +"The further we penetrate into the country, the more dense we find the +population to be, and civilization becomes at every step more strikingly +apparent. Large towns, at a distance of only a few miles from each +other, we were informed, lay on all sides of us, the inhabitants of +which pay the greatest respect to the laws, and live under a regular +form of government." + +It is to this fertile, populous, and peaceful region of the interior +that the most successful efforts of the English missionaries have been +of late directed. + +In this expedition, Captain Clapperton died of the fever of the country. +His faithful servant, Lander, after publishing his journal, returned to +Africa, in 1830, with his brother, landed at Badagry, and again crossed +the country to the Niger. + +At Boussa, they obtained the first authentic information of the death of +Park, and recovered his gun, robe, and other relics. Here, embarking in +canoes, they ascended the river through its rapids to Yaouri, and +thence traced it to the sea in the Bight of Benin. On their way, they +discovered the Benue, which joins the Niger two hundred and seventy +miles from the ocean, with a volume of water and a width nearly equal to +its own. They encountered a large number of canoes, nearly fifty feet +in length, armed in some cases with a brass six-pounder at the bow, and +each manned by sixty or seventy men actively engaged in the slave-trade. +Forty of these canoes were found together at Eboe, near the mouth of the +Niger. + +During the interval between the two expeditions of Lander to trace the +course of this mysterious river, France was exploring its upper waters. + +In 1827, René Caillié, a Frenchman, adopting the disguise of a +Mahometan, left the western coast at Kakundy, a few miles north of +Sierra Leone, and crossed the intervening highlands to the affluents of +the Niger, which he struck within two hundred and fifty miles of the +coast. + +He first came to the Tankesso, a rapid stream flowing into the Niger +just below its cascades, and noticed here a mountain of pale pink quartz +in regular strata of eighteen inches in thickness, a few miles below +which the river flows in a wide and tranquil stream through extensive +plains, which it fertilizes by its inundations. One hundred miles below, +at Boure, were rich gold mines within twenty miles of the Niger. In the +dry season, he found its waters very cold and waist-deep. + +Caillié travelled by narrow paths impervious to horses or carriages, and +with a party of natives bearing merchandise on their heads. His route +was through a country gradually ascending and occasionally mountainous, +but fertile in the utmost degree, and watered by numerous streams and +rivulets which kept the verdure constantly fresh, with delightful plains +that required only the labor of the husbandman to produce everything +necessary for human life. + +Proceeding westward, he reached the main Niger, which he found, at +the close of the dry season, and before it had received its principal +tributaries, nine feet deep and nine hundred feet in width, with a +velocity of two and a half miles an hour. + +To this point, where the river becomes navigable for steamers, a common +road or railway of three hundred miles in length might be easily +constructed from Sierra Leone; and it is a little surprising that Great +Britain, with her solicitude to reach the interior, should not have been +tempted by the fertility, gold mines, and navigable waters in the rear +of Sierra Leone, so well pictured by Caillié, to open at least a common +highway to the Niger, an enterprise which might be effected for fifty +thousand pounds. Although this may be so easily accomplished, the +principal route to the interior of Africa is still the caravan track +from Tripoli through the Desert, requiring three months by a hazardous +and most fatiguing journey of fifteen hundred miles. The first movement +for a road to the interior has been recently made in Yarriba, by T.J. +Bowen, the American Baptist missionary, who pronounces it to be the +prerequisite to civilization and Christianity. + +Caillié readied the Niger in May, just as the rainy reason commenced, +but, finding no facilities for descending the stream, he proceeded to +the southwest, crossed many of its affluents, traversed a rich country, +and, having exposed himself to the fever and met with many detentions, +finally embarked in the succeeding March at Djenne, in a vessel of +seventy tons burden, for Timbuctoo. He describes this vessel as one +hundred feet in length, fourteen feet broad, and drawing seven feet +of water. It was laden with rice, millet, and cotton, and manned by +twenty-one men, who propelled the frail bark by poles and paddles. With +a flotilla of sixty of these vessels he descended the Niger several +hundred miles to Timbuctoo. He speaks of the river as varying from half +to three-fourths of a mile in width, annually overflowing its banks and +irrigating a large basin generally destitute of trees. After paying toll +to the Tasaareks, a Moorish tribe, on the way, and losing one of the +flotilla, he landed safely at Timbuctoo, and probably was the first +European who visited that remote city, although Adams, an American +sailor wrecked on the coast, claims to have been carried there before as +a captive. + +From the narratives of Park, Clapperton, Lander, and Caillié, confirmed +by Bairkie and Barth, the latter of whom explored the banks of the Niger +from Timbuctoo to Boussa, it has been ascertained to be a noble stream, +navigable for nearly twenty-five hundred miles, with an average width +of more than half a mile, and an average depth of three fathoms, +--comparing favorably with our own Mississippi. There appears to be but +one portion of the stream difficult for navigation, and that is the +portion from Yaouri to Lagaba, a distance of eighty miles. In this space +are several reefs and ledges, mostly bare at low water, and the river is +narrowed in width by mountains on either side; but in the wet season it +overflows its banks at this point, and is then navigated by the larger +class of canoes. There can be little doubt that it is susceptible of +navigation above and below by the largest class of river steamers, and +that the rapids themselves may in the higher stages of water be ascended +by the American high-pressure steamers which navigate our Western +rivers, drawing, as they do in low stages of the Ohio and Missouri, but +sixteen to eighteen inches. + +As soon as it was ascertained that the Niger reached the ocean in the +Bight of Benin, and that its upper waters had been navigated by Caillié +and Park, a private association, aided by the British government, fitted +out a brig and several steamers, with a large party of scientific men, +who, in 1833, entered the Niger from the sea. + +Great Britain, though enterprising and persevering, is slow in adapting +means to ends, and made a series of mistakes in her successive +expeditions, which might have been avoided, if she would have +condescended to profit by the experience of her children on this side of +the Atlantic. + +The expedition of 1833 was deficient in many things. The power and speed +of the steamers were insufficient, their draught of water too great, and +they were so long delayed in their outfit and in their sea-voyage that +they found the river falling, and were detained by shoals and sand-bars. +The accommodations were unsuitable; and the men, exposed to a bad +atmosphere among the mangroves at the mouth of the river, and confined +in the holds of the vessels, were attacked by fever, and but ten of them +survived. The expedition, however, succeeded in reaching Rabba, on the +Niger, five hundred miles from the sea, ascended the Benue, eighty miles +above the confluence, and charts were made and soundings taken for the +distance explored. + +In 1842 the British government made a new effort to explore the Niger, +and built for that purpose three iron steamers, the Wilberforce, Albert, +and Soudan, vessels of one hundred to one hundred and thirty-nine feet +in length. The error committed in the first expedition, of too great +draught, was avoided; but the steamers had so little power and keel that +their voyage to the Niger was both tedious and hazardous, and their +speed was found insufficient to make more than three knots per hour +against the current of the river. Arriving on the coast late in the +season, they were unable to ascend above the points already explored, +and the officers and men, suffering from the tedious navigation, close +cabins, and effluvia from the falling river, lost one-fourth of their +number by fever, while the African Kroomen, accustomed to the climate +and sleeping on the open deck, enjoyed perfect health. It was the +intention of government to establish a model farm and mission at the +confluence of the Niger and Benue; but the officers, discouraged by +sickness, abandoned their original purpose, and the expedition proved +another failure, involving a loss of at least sixty thousand pounds. + +After the lapse of twelve years, it was ascertained that private +steamers and sailing vessels were resorting to the Niger, and that an +active trade was springing up in palm-oil, the trees producing which +fringe the banks of the river for some hundreds of miles from the sea; +and in 1853, a Liverpool merchant, McGregor Laird, who had accompanied +the former expedition, fitted out, with the aid of government, the +Pleiad steamer for a voyage up the Niger. + +One would imagine that by this time the British government would have +corrected their former errors; and a part were corrected. The speed of +this steamer surpassed that of her predecessors, and her draught did not +exceed five feet. She was well provided with officers, and a crew of +native Kroomen from the coast; and she was supplied with ample stores +of quinine. But, singular as it may appear, this steamer, destined, to +ascend the great rivers up which the former expedition found a strong +breeze flowing daily, was not furnished with a _sail_; and although the +banks of the Niger were lined with forest-trees, and the supply of coal +was sufficient for a few days only, not a single _axe_ or _saw_ was +provided for cutting wood, and the Kroomen hired from the coast were +compelled to trim off with shingle-hatchets nearly all the fuel used +in ascending the river,--and in descending, the steamer was obliged to +drift down with the current. Moreover, she was but one hundred feet +in length, with an engine and boiler occupying thirty feet of her +bold,--thus leaving but thirty-five feet at each end for officers, men, +and stores. Neither state-room, cabin, nor awning was provided on deck +to shelter the crew from an African sun. + +With all these deficiencies, however, they achieved a partial triumph. +Entering the river in July, they ascended the southern branch, now +known as the Benue, for a distance of seven hundred miles from the sea, +reaching Adamawa, a Mahometan state of the Soudan. On the fifteenth of +August they encountered the rise of waters, and found the Benue nearly a +mile in width and from one to three fathoms in depth. They observed it +overflowing its banks for miles and irrigatin extensive and fertile +plains to the depth of several feet, and saw reason to believe that this +river, which flows westerly from the interior, may be navigated at least +one thousand miles from the sea. As Dr. Barth visited it at a city +several hundred miles above the point reached by the Pleiad, and found +it flowing with a wide and deep current, it may be regarded as the +gateway into the interior of Africa. + +One of our light Western steamers, manned by our Western boatmen and +axemen, with its three decks, lofty staterooms, superior speed, +and light draught, would have been most admirably fitted for this +exploration. + +But the expedition, with all its deficiencies, achieved a further +triumph. Dr. Bairkie, by using quinine freely, and by removing the beds +of the officers from the stifling cabins to the deck, escaped the loss +of a single man, although four months on the river,--thus demonstrating +that the white man can reach the interior of Africa in safety, a problem +quite as important to be solved as the course and capacity of the Niger +and its branches. + +Thus have been opened to navigation the waters of the Mysterious River. + +When the Landers first floated down the stream in their canoe, thirty +years since, they found vast forests and little cultivation, and the +natives seemed to have no commerce except in slaves and yams for their +support. But an officer who accompanied the several steam expeditions +was astonished in his last visit to see the change which a few years +had produced. New and populous towns had sprung up, extensive groves +of palm-trees and gardens lined the banks, and vessels laden with oil, +yams, ground-nuts, and ivory indicated the progress of legitimate +commerce. + +The narrative of Dr. Bairkie, a distinguished German scholar, who has +written an account of the voyage of the Pleiad, will be found both +interesting and instructive; and we may some day expect another volume, +for he has returned to the scene of his adventures. + +Another German in the service of Great Britain has given us a vivid +picture of Central Africa north of the equator. Dr. Henry Barth has +recently published, in four octavo volumes, a narrative of his travels +in Africa for five years preceding 1857. During this period, he +accompanied the Sheik of Bornou, one of the chief Negro states of +Africa, on his march as far south as the Benue, explored the borders of +Lake Tsadda, crossed the Niger at Sai, and visited the far-famed city +of Timbuctoo. Here he incurred some danger from the fanaticism of +the Moslems; but his command of Arabic, his tact and adroitness in +distinguishing the Protestant worship of the Deity from the homage +paid by Roman Catholics to images of the Virgin and Saints, and in +illustrating the points in which his Protestant faith agreed with the +Koran, extricated him from his embarrassment. + +Dr. Barth found various Negro cities with a population ranging from +fifteen to twenty thousand, and observed large fields of rice, cotton, +tobacco, and millet. On his way to Timbuctoo, he saw a field of this +last-named grain in which the stalks stood twenty-four feet high. Our +Patent Office should secure some of the seed which he has doubtless +conveyed to Europe. The following prices, which he names, give us an +idea of the cheapness of products in Central Africa:--An ox two dollars, +a sheep fifty cents, tobacco one to two cents per pound. + +From the sketch we have given of the Niger and its branches, and of the +countries bordering upon them, it would appear to be the proper policy +of Great Britain and other commercial nations to open a way from Sierra +Leone to the Niger, and to establish a colony near the confluence of +this river with the Benue. From this point, which is easily accessible +from the sea and the ports of the British colonies on the western coast +of Africa, light steamers may probably ascend to Sego and Djenne, +encountering no difficulties except at the rapids near Boussa, and may +penetrate into the heart of the Soudan. In this region are mines of +lead, copper, gold, and iron, a rich soil, adapted to cotton, rice, +indigo, sugar, coffee, and vegetable butter, with very cheap labor. With +steamers controlling the rivers, a check could here be given to the +slave-trade, and to the conflicts between the Moors and Negroes, and +Christianity have a fair prospect of diffusion. Such a colony is +strongly recommended by Lieutenant Allen, who accompanied the +expeditions of 1833 and 1842; and there can be no doubt that it would +attract the caravans from the remote interior, and put an end to the +perilous and tedious expeditions across the Desert. + + + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_Benvenuto Rambaldi da Imola Illustrato nella Vita e nelle Opere, e di +lui Comento Latino sulla Divina Commedia di Dante Allghieri voltalo in +Italiano dall' Avvocato_ GIOVANNI TAMBURINI. Imola. 1855-56. 3 vol. +in 8vo. [The Commentary of Benvenuto Rambaldi of Imola on the _Divina +Commedia_, translated from Latin into Italian, by Giovanni Tamburini.] + +Almost five centuries have passed since Benvenuto of Imola, one of +the most distinguished men of letters of his time, was called by the +University of Bologna to read a course of lectures upon the "Divina +Commedia" before the students at that famous seat of learning. From +that time till the present, a great part of his "Comment" has lain in +manuscript, sharing the fate of the other earliest commentaries on the +poem of Dante, not one of which, save that of Boccaccio, was given to +the press till within a few years. This neglect is the more strange, +since it was from the writers of the fourteenth century, almost +contemporary as they were with Dante, that the most important +illustrations both of the letter and of the sense of the "Divina +Commedia" were naturally to be looked for. When they wrote, the lapse of +time had not greatly obscured the memory of the events which the poet +had recorded, or to which he had referred. The studies with which he had +been familiar, the external sources from which he had drawn inspiration, +had undergone no essential change in direction or in nature. The same +traditions and beliefs possessed the intellects of men. Similar social +and political influences moulded their characters. The distance that +separated Dante from his first commentators was mainly due to the +surpassing nature of his genius, which, in some sort, made him, and +still makes him, a stranger to all men, and very little to changes like +those which have slowly come about in the passage of centuries, and +which divide his modern readers from the poet. + +It was the intention of Benvenuto, as he tells us, "to elucidate what +was dark in the poem being veiled under figures, and to explain what +was involved in its multiplex meanings." But his Comment is more +illustrative than analytic, more literal than imaginative, and its chief +value lies in the abundance of current legends which it contains, and +in the number of stories related in it, which exhibit the manners or +illustrate the history of the times. So great, indeed, is the value +of this portion of his work, that Muratori, to whom a large debt of +gratitude is due from all students of Italian history, published in +1738, in the first volume of his "Antiquitates Italicae Medii Aevi," a +selection of such passages, amounting altogether to about one half of +the whole Comment. However satisfactory this incomplete publication +might be to the mere historical investigator, the students of the +"Divina Commedia" could not but regret that the complete work had not +been printed,--and they accordingly welcomed with satisfaction the +announcement, a few years since, of the volumes whose title stands at +the head of this article, which professed to contain a translation of +the whole Comment. It seemed a pity, indeed, that it should have been +thought worth while to translate a book addressing itself to a very +limited number of readers, most of whom were quite as likely to +understand the original Latin as the modern Italian, while also a +special value attached to the style and form in which it was first +written. But no one could have suspected what "translation" meant in the +estimation of the Signor Tamburini, whose name appears on the title-page +as that of the translator. + +_Traduttore--traditore_, "Translator--traitor," says the proverb; and of +all traitors shielded under the less offensive name, Signor Tamburini +is beyond comparison the worst we have ever had the misfortune to +encounter. A place is reserved for him in that lowest depth in which, +according to Dante's system, traitors are punished. + +It appears from his preface that Signor Tamburini is not without +distinction in the city of Imola. He has been President of the Literary +Academy named that of "The Industrious." To have been President of all +Academy in the Roman States implies that the person bearing this honor +was either an ecclesiastic or a favorite of ecclesiastics. Hitherto, +no one could hold such an office without having his election to it +confirmed by a central board of ecclesiastical inspectors (_la Sacra +Congregazione degli Studj_) at Rome. The reason for noticing this fact +in connection with Signor Tamburini will soon become apparent. + +In his preface, Signor Tamburini declares that in the first division of +the poem he has kept his translation close to the original, while in +the two later divisions he had been _meno legato_, "less exact," in his +rendering. This acknowledgment, however unsatisfactory to the reader, +presented at least an appearance of fairness. But, from a comparison of +Signor Tamburini's work with the portions of the original preserved by +Muratori, we have satisfied ourselves that his honesty is on a level +with his capacity as a translator, and what his capacity is we propose +to enable our readers to judge for themselves. For our own part, we have +been unable to distinguish any important difference in the methods of +translation followed in the three parts of the Comment. + +So far as we are aware, this book has not met with its dues in Europe. +The well-known Dantophilist, Professor Blanc of Halle, speaks of it in a +note to a recent essay (_Versuch einer blos philogischen Erklärung der +Göttlichen Komödie_, von Dr. L.G. Blanc, Halle, 1860, p. 5) as "a +miserably unsatisfactory translation," but does not give the grounds of +his assertion. We intend to show that a grosser literary imposition has +seldom been attempted than in these volumes. It is an outrage on the +memory of Dante not less than on that of Benvenuto. The book is worse +than worthless to students; for it is not only full of mistakes of +carelessness, stupidity, and ignorance, but also of wilful perversions +of the meaning of the original by additions, alterations, and omissions. +The three large volumes contain few pages which do not afford examples +of mutilation or misrepresentation of Benvenuto's words. We will begin +our exhibition of the qualities of the Procrustean mistranslator with +an instance of his almost incredible carelessness, which is, however, +excusable in comparison with his more wilful faults. Opening the first +volume at page 397, we find the following sentence,--which we put side +by side with the original as given by Muratori. The passage relates to +the 33d and succeeding verses of Canto XVI. + +TAMBURINI + +Qui Dante fa menzione di Guido Guerra, e meravigliano molti della +modestia dell' autore, che da costui e dalla di lui moglie tragga +l'origine sua, mentre poteva derivarla care di gratitudine affettuosa a +quella,--Gualdrada,--stipito suo,--dandole nome e tramandandola quasi +all' eternità , mentre per sè stessa sarebbe forse rimasta sconosciuta. + +BENVENUTO. + +Et primo incepit a digniori, scilicet a Guidone Guerra; et circa istius +descriptionem lectori est aliqualiter immorandum, quia multi mirantur, +immo truffantur ignoranter, quod Dantes, qui poterat describere istum +praeclarum virum a claris progenitoribus et ejus claris gestis, +describit eum ab una femina, avita sua, Domna Gualdrada. Sed certe +Auctor fecit talem descriptionem tam laudabiliter quam prudenter, ut +heic implicite tangeret originem famosae stirpis istius, et ut daret +meritam famam et laudem huic mulieri dignissimae. + +A literal translation will afford the most telling comment on the nature +of the Italian version. + +TRANSLATION. + +Here Dante makes mention of Guido Guerras, and many marvel at the +modesty of the Author, in deriving his own origin from him and from his +wife, when he might have derived it from a more noble source. But I find +in such modesty the greater merit, in that he did not wish to fail in +affectionate gratitude toward her,--Gualdrada,--his ancestress,--giving +her name and handing her down as it were to eternity, while she by +herself would perhaps have remained unknown. + +TRANSLATION. + +In the first place he began with the worthiest, namely, Guido Guerra; +and in regard to the description of this man it is to be dwelt upon a +little by the reader, because scoff at Dante, because, when he might +have described this very distinguished man by his distinguished +ancestors and his distinguished deeds, he does describe him by a woman, +his grandmother, the Lady Gualdrada. But certainly the author did this +not less praiseworthily than wisely, that he might here, by implication, +touch upon the origin of that famous family, and might give a merited +fame and praise to this most worthy woman. + +It will be noticed that Signor Tamburini makes Dante derive _his own_ +origin from Gualdrada,--a mistake from which the least attention to the +original text, or the slightest acquaintance with the biography of the +poet, would have saved him. + +Another amusing instance of stupidity occurs in the comment on the 135th +verse of Canto XXVIII., where, speaking of the young king, son of Henry +II. of England, Benvenuto says, "Note here that this youth was like +another Titus the son of Vespasian, who, according to Suetonius, was +called the love and delight of the human race." This simple sentence is +rendered in the following astounding manner: "John [the young king] was, +according to Suetonius, another Titus Vespasian, the love and joy of the +human race"! + +Again, in giving the account of Guido da Montefeltro, (_Inferno_, Canto +XXVII.,) Benvenuto says on the lines, + + --e poi fui Cordeliero, + Credendomi si cinto fare ammenda, + +"And then I became a Cordelier, believing thus girt to make +amends,"--"That is, hoping under such a dress of misery and poverty +to make amends for my sins; but others did not believe in him [in his +repentance]. Wherefore Dominus Malatesta, having learned from one of +his household that Dominus Guido had become a Minorite Friar, took +precautions that he should not be made the guardian of Rimini." This +last sentence is rendered by our translator,--"One of the household +of Malatesta related to me (!) that Ser Guido adopted the dress of a +Minorite Friar, and sought by every means not to be appointed guardian +of Rimini." A little farther on the old commentator says,--"He died and +was buried in Ancona, and I have heard many things about him which may +afford a sufficient hope of his salvation"; but he is made to say by +Signor Tamburini,--"After his death and burial in Ancona many works of +power were ascribed to him, and I have a sweet hope that he is saved." + +We pass over many instances of similar misunderstanding of Benvenuto's +easily intelligible though inelegant Latin, to a blunder which would be +extraordinary in any other book, by which our translator has ruined a +most characteristic story in the comment on the 112th verse of Canto +XIV. of the "Purgatory." We must give here the two texts. + +BENVENUTO + +Et heic nota, ut videas, si magna nobilitas vigebat paulo ante in +Bretenorio, quod tempore istius Guidonis, quando aliquis vir nobilis +et honorabilis applicabat ad terram, magna contentio erat inter multos +nobiles de Bretenorio, in cujus domum ille talis forensis deberet +declinare. Propter quod concorditer convenerunt inter se, quod columna +lapidea figeretur in medio plateae cum multis annulis ferreis, et omnis +superveniens esset hospes illius ad cujus annulum alligaret equum. + +TRANSLATION. + +And here take notice, that you may see if great nobility flourished a +little before this time in Brettinoro, that, in the days of this Guido, +when any noble and honorable man came to the place, there was a great +rivalry among the many nobles of Brettinoro, as to which of them should +receive the stranger in his house. Wherefore they harmoniously agreed +that a column of stone should be set up in the middle of the square, +furnished with many iron rings, and any one who arrived should be the +guest of him to whose ring he might tie his horse. + + +TAMBURINI. + +Al tempo di Guido in Brettinoro anche i nobili aravano le terre; ma +insorsero discordie fra essi, e sparve la innocenza di vita, e con essa +la liberalità . I brettinoresi determinarono di alzare in piazza una +colonna con intorno tanti anelli di ferro, quanto le nobili famiglie di +quel castello, e chi fosse arrivato ed avesse legato il cavallo ad uno +de' predetti anelli, doveva esser ospite della famiglia, che indicava l' +anello cui il cavallo era attaccato. + +TRANSLATION. + +In the time of Guido in Brettinoro even the nobles ploughed the land; +but discords arose among them, and innocence of life disappeared, and +with it liberality. The people of Brettinoro determined to erect in the +pub lic square a column with as many iron rings upon it as there were +noble families in that stronghold, and he who should arrive and tie his +horse to one of those rings was to be the guest of the family pointed +out by the ring to which the horse was attached. + +Surely, Signor Tamburini has fixed the dunce's cap on his own head so +that it can never he taken off. The commonest Latin phrases, which the +dullest schoolboy could not mistranslate, he misunderstands, turning +the pleasant sense of the worthy commentator into the most +self-contradictory nonsense. + +"Ad confirmandum propositum," says Benvenuto, "oceurrit mihi res +jocosa,"[A]--"In confirmation of this statement, a laughable matter +occurs to me"; and he goes on to relate a story about the famous +astrologer Pietro di Abano. But our translator is not content without +making him stultify himself, and renders the words we have quoted, "A +maggiore conferma referiro un fatto a me accaduto"; that is, he makes +Benvenuto say, "I will report an incident that happened to me," and then +go on to tell the story of Pietro di Abano, which had no more to do with +him than with Signor Tamburini himself. + +[Footnote A: Comment on Purg. xvi. 80.] + +We might fill page after page with examples such as these of the +distortions and corruptions of Benvenuto's meaning which we have noted +on the margin of this so-called translation. But we have given more than +enough to prove the charge of incompetence against the President of +the "Academy of the Industrious," and we pass on to exhibit him now no +longer as simply an ignoramus, but as a mean and treacherous rogue. + +Among the excellent qualities of Benvenuto there are few more marked +than his freedom in speaking his opinion of rulers and ecclesiastics, +and in holding up their vices to reproach, while at the same time he +shows a due spirit of respect for proper civil and ecclesiastical +authority. In this he imitates the temper of the poet upon whose work he +comments,--and in so doing he has left many most valuable records of +the character and manners especially of the clergy of those days--He +loved a good story, and he did not hesitate to tell it even when it went +hard against the priests. He knew and he would not hide the corruptions +of the Church, and he was not the man to spare the vices which were +sapping the foundations not so much of the Church as of religion itself. +But his translator is of a different order of men, one of the devout +votaries of falsehood and concealment; and he has done his best to +remove some of the most characteristic touches of Benvenuto's work, +regarding them as unfavorable to the Church, which even now in the +nineteenth century cannot well bear to have exposed the sins committed +by its rulers and its clergy in the thirteenth or fourteenth. Signor +Tamburini has sought the favor of ecclesiastics, and gained the contempt +of such honest men as have the ill-luck to meet with his book. Wherever +Benvenuto uses a phrase or tells an anecdote which can be regarded as +bearing in any way against the Church, we may be sure to find it either +omitted or softened down in this Papalistic version. We give a few +specimens. + +In the comment on Canto III. of the "Inferno," Benvenuto says, speaking +of Dante's great enemy, Boniface VIII.,--"Auctor ssepissime dicit +de ipso Bonifacio magna mala, qui de rei veritate fuit magnanimus +peccator": "Our author very often speaks exceedingly ill of Boniface, +who was in very truth a grand sinner." This sentence is omitted in the +translation. + +Again, on the well-known verse, (_Inferno,_ xix. 53,) "Se' tu già costì +ritto, Bonifazio?" Benvenuto commenting says,--"Auctor quando ista +scripsit, viderat pravam vitam Bonifacii, ct ejus mortem rabidam. +Ideo bene judicavit eum damnatum.... Heic dictus Nicolaus improperat +Bonifacio duo mala. Primo, quia Sponsam Christ! fraudulenter assumpsit +de manu simplicis Pastoris. Secundo, quia etiam earn more meretricis +tractavit, simoniacc vendcndo eam, et tyrannice tractando": "The author, +when he wrote these things, had witnessed the evil life of Boniface, and +his raving death. Therefore he well judged him to be damned.... And +here the aforementioned Pope Nicholas charges two crimes upon Boniface: +first, that he had taken the Bride of Christ by deceit from the hand of +a simple-minded Pastor; second, that he had treated her as a harlot, +simoniacally selling her, and tyrannically dealing with her." + +These two sentences are omitted by the translator; and the long further +account which Benvenuto gives of the election and rule of Boniface is +throughout modified by him in favor of this "_magnanimus peccator_." And +so also the vigorous narrative of the old commentator concerning Pope +Nicholas III. is deprived of its most telling points: "Nam fuit primus +in cujus curia palam committeretur Simonia per suos attinentes. +Quapropter multum ditavit eos possessionibus, pecuniis et castellis, +super onmes Romanos": "For he was the first at whose court Simony was +openly committed in favor of his adherents. Whereby he greatly enriched +them with possessions, money, and strongholds, above all the Romans." +"Sed quod Clerici capiunt raro dimittunt": "What the clergy have once +laid hands on, they rarely give up." Nothing of this is found in +the Italian,--and history fails of her dues at the hands of this +tender-conscienced modernizer of Benvenuto. The comment on the whole +canto is in this matter utterly vitiated. + +In the comment on Canto XXIX. of the "Inferno," which is full of +historic and biographic material of great interest, but throughout +defaced by the license of the translator, occurs a passage in regard +to the Romagna, which is curious not only as exhibiting the former +condition of that beautiful and long-suffering portion of Italy, but +also as applying to its recent state and its modern grievances. + +BENVENUTO. + +Judicio meo mihi videtur quod quatuor deduxerunt eam nobilem provinciam +ad tantam desolationem. Primum est avaritia Pastorum Ecclesiae, qui nunc +vendunt unam terram, nunc aliam; et nunc unus favet uni Tyranno, nunc +alius alteri, secundum quod saepe mutantur officiales. Secundum est +pravitas Tyrannorum suorum, qui semper inter se se lacerant et rodunt, +et subditos excoriant. Tertium est fertilitas locorum ipsius provinciae, +cujus pinguedo allicit barbaros et externos in praedam. Quartum est +invidia, quae viget in cordibus ipsorum incolarum. + +TAMBURINI. + +Per me ritengo, che quattro fossero le cagioni per cui la Romagna +si ridusse a tanta desolazione: l' abuso per avarizia di alcuni +ecclesiastici, che alienarono or una, or un' altra terra, e si misero +d' accordo coi tiranni,--i tiranni stessi che sempre erano discordi fra +loro a danno de' sudditi,--la fertilità de' terreni, che troppo alletta +gli strani, ed i barbari,--l' invidia, che regna fra gli stessi roma +gnuoli. + + +"In my judgment," says Benvenuto, who speaks with the authority of long +experience and personal observation, "it seems to me that four things +have brought that noble province to so great desolation. The first of +which is, the avarice of the Pastors of the Church, who now sell one +tract of its land, and now another; while one favors one Tyrant, and +another another, so that the men in authority are often changed. The +second is, the wickedness of the Tyrants themselves, who are always +tearing and biting each other, and fleecing their subjects. The third +is, the fertility of the province itself, which by its very richness +allures barbarians and foreigners to prey upon it. The fourth is, that +spirit of jealousy which flourishes in the hearts of the inhabitants +themselves." It will be noticed that the translator changes the phrase, +"the avarice of the Pastors of the Church," into "the avarice of some +ecclesiastics," while throughout the passage, as indeed throughout every +page of the work, the vigor of Benvenuto's style and the point of +his animated sentences are quite lost in the flatness of a dull and +inaccurate paraphrase. + +A passage in which the spirit of the poet has fully roused his manly +commentator is the noble burst of indignant reproach with which +he inveighs against and mourns over Italy in Canto VI. of the +"Purgatory":-- + + Ahi serva Italia, di dolore ostello, + Nave senza nocchiero in gran tempesta, + Non donna di provincie, ma bordello. + +"Nota metaphoram pulcram: sicut enim in lupanari venditur caro humana +pretio sine pudore, ita meretrix magna, idest Curia Romana, et Curia +Imperialis, vendunt libertatem Italicam.... Ad Italiam concurrunt omnes +barbarae nationes cum aviditate ad ipsam conculcandam.... Et heic, +Lector, me excusabis, qui antequam ulterius procedam, cogor facere +invectivam contra Dantem. O utinam, Poeta mirifice, rivivisceres modo! +Ubi pax, ubi tranquillitas in Italia?... Nunc autem dicere possim de +tola Italia quod Vergilius tuus de una Urbe dixit: + + ----'Crudelis ubique + Lucutus, ubique pavor, et plurima mortis imago.' + +.... Quanto ergo excusabilius, si fas esset, possem exclamare ad +Omnipotentem quam tu, qui in tempora felicia incidisti, quibus nos omnes +nunc viventes in misera Italia possumus invidere? Ipse ergo, qui potest, +mittat amodo Veltrum, quem tu vidisti in Somno, si tamen umquam venturus +est." + +"Note the beauty of the metaphor: for, as in a brothel the human body is +sold for a price without shame, so the great harlot, the Court of Rome, +and the Imperial Court, sell the liberty of Italy.... All the barbarous +nations rush eagerly upon Italy to trample upon her.... And here, +Reader, thou shalt excuse me, if, before going farther, I am forced to +utter a complaint against Dante. Would that, O marvellous poet, thou +wert now living again! Where is peace, where is tranquillity in +Italy?... But I may say now of all Italy what thy Virgil said of a +single city,--'Cruel mourning everywhere, everywhere alarm, and the +multiplied image of death.' ...With how much more reason, then, were it +but right, might I call upon the Omnipotent, than thou who fellest upon +happy times, which we all now living in wretched Italy may envy! Let +Him, then, who can, speedily send the Hound that thou sawest in thy +dream, if indeed he is ever to come!" + +It would be surprising, but for what we have already seen of the manner +in which Signor Tamburini performs his work, to find that he has here +omitted all reference to the Church, omitted also the address to Dante, +and thus changed the character of the whole passage. + +Again, in the comment on Canto XX. of the "Purgatory," where Benvenuto +gives account of the outrage committed, at the instigation of Philippe +le Bel, by Sciarra Colonna, upon Pope Boniface VIII., at Anagni, the +translator omits the most characteristic portions of the original. + + * * * * * + +BENVENUTO. + +Sed intense dolore superante animum ejus, conversus in rabiem furoris, +coepit se rodere totum. Et sic verificata est prophetia simplicissimi +Coelestini, qui praedixerat sibi: Intrâsti ut Vulpes, Regnabis ut Leo, +Morieris ut Canis. + +TAMBURINI. + +L'angoscia per altro là vinse sul di lui animo, perchè fu preso da tal +dolore, che si mordeva e lacerava le membra, e cosi terminò sua vita. In +tal modo nel corso della vita di Bonifazio fu verificata la profezia di +Celestino. + + * * * * * + +"But his intense mortification overcoming the mind of the Pope, he fell +into a rage of madness, and began to bite himself all over his body. +And thus the prophecy of the simple-minded Celestine came true, who had +predicted to him. Thou hast entered [into the Papacy] like a Fox, thou +wilt reign like a Lion, thou wilt die like a Dog." + +It wilt be observed that the prophecy is referred to by the translator, +but that its stinging words are judiciously left out. + +The mass of omissions such as these is enormous. We go forward to the +comment on Canto XII. of the "Paradiso," which exhibits a multitude of +mutilations and alterations. For instance, in the comment on the lines +in which Dante speaks of St. Dominick as attacking heresies most eagerly +where they were most firmly established, (_dove le resistenze eran più +grosse_,) our translator represents Benvenuto as saying, "That is, most +eagerly in that place, namely, the district of Toulouse, where the +Albigenses had become strong in their heresy and in power." But +Benvenuto says nothing of the sort; his words are, "Idest, ubi erant +majores Haeretici, vel ratione scientiae, vel potentiae. Non enim fecit +sicut quidam moderni Inquisitores, qui non sunt audaces nec solertes, +nisi contra quosdam divites denariis, pauperes amicis, qui non possunt +facere magnam resistentiam, et extorquent ab eis pecunias, quibus postea +emunt Episcopatum." + +"That is, where were the greatest Heretics, either through their +knowledge or their power. For he did not do like some modern +Inquisitors, who are bold and skilful only against such as are rich in +money, but poor in friends, and who cannot make a great resistance, and +from these they squeeze out their money with which they afterwards buy +an Episcopate." + +Such is the way in which what is most illustrative of general history, +or of the personal character of the author himself, is constantly +destroyed by the processes of Signor Tamburini. From the very next page +a passage of real value, as a contemporary judgment upon the orders of +St. Dominick and St. Francis, has utterly disappeared under his hands. +"And here take notice, that our most far-sighted author, from what he +saw of these orders, conjectured what they would become. For, in very +truth, these two illustrious orders of Preachers and Minorites, formerly +the two brightest lights of the world, now have indeed undergone an +eclipse, and are in their decline, and are divided by quarrels and +domestic discords. And consequently it seems as if they were not to last +much longer. Therefore it was well answered by a monk of St. Benedict, +when he was reproached by a Franciscan friar for his wanton life,--When +Francis shall be as old as Benedict, then you may talk to me." + +But there is a still more remarkable instance of Signor Tamburini's +tenderness to the Church, and of the manner in which he cheats his +readers as to the spirit and meaning of the original, in the comment on +the passage in Canto XXI. of the "Paradise," where St. Peter Damiano +rebukes the luxury and pomp of the modern prelates, and mentions, among +their other displays of vanity, the size of their cloaks, "which cover +even their steeds, so that two beasts go under one skin." "Namely," says +the honest old commentator, "the beast of burden, and the beast who is +borne, who in truth is the more beastly of the two. And, indeed, were +the author now alive, he might change his words, and say, So that three +beasts go under one skin,--to wit, a cardinal, a harlot, and a horse; +for thus I have heard of one whom I knew well, that he carried his +mistress to the chase, seated behind him on the croup of his horse or +mule, and he himself was in truth 'as the horse or as the mule, which +have no understanding.'... And wonder not, Reader, if the author as a +poet thus reproach these prelates of the Church; for even great Doctors +and Saints have not been able to abstain from rebukes of this sort +against such men in the Church." Nothing of all this is to be found in +the Italian version. + +But it is not only in omission that the translator shows his devotion +to the Church. He takes upon himself not infrequently to alter the +character of Benvenuto's narratives by the insertion of phrases or the +addition of clauses to which there is nothing corresponding in the +original. The comment on Canto XIX. of the "Inferno" affords several +instances of this unfair procedure. "Among the Cardinals," says +Benvenuto, "was Benedict of Anagni, a man most skilful in managing great +affairs and in the rule of the world; who, moreover, sought the highest +dignity." "Vir astutissimus ad quseque magna negotia et imperia mundi; +qui etiam affectabat summam dignitatem." This appears in the translation +as follows: "Uomo astutissimo, perito d' affari, e conoscitore delle +altre corti: affettava un contegno il più umile, e reservato." "A man +most astute, skilled in affairs, and acquainted with other courts; he +assumed a demeanor the most humble and reserved." A little farther on, +Benvenuto tells us that many, even after the election of Benedict to the +Papacy, reputed Celestine to be still the true and rightful Pope, in +spite of his renunciation, because, they said, such a dignity could not +be renounced. To this statement the translator adds, "because it comes +directly from God,"--a clause for the benefit of readers under the +pontificate of Pius IX. + +In the comment on Canto XIX. of the "Purgatory" occurs the following +striking passage: "Summus Pontificatus, si bene geritur, est summus +honor, summum onus, summa servitus, summus labor. Si vero male, est +summum periculum animae, summum malum, summa miseria, summus pudor. Ergo +dubium est ex omni parte negotium. Ideo bene praefatus Adrianus Papa IV. +dicebat, Cathedram Petri spinosam, et Mantum ejus acutissimis per totum +consertum aculeis, et tantae gravitatis, ut robustissimos premat et +conterat humeros. Et concludebat, Nonne miseria dignus est qui pro tanta +pugnat miseria?" + +"The Papacy, if it be well borne, is the chief of honors, of burdens, of +servitudes, and of labors; but if ill, it is the chief of perils for the +soul, the chief of evils, of miseries, and of shames. Wherefore, it is +throughout a doubtful affair. And well did the aforesaid Pope Adrian IV. +say, that the Chair of Peter was thorny, and his Mantle full of sharpest +stings, and so heavy as to weigh down and bruise the stoutest shoulders; +and, added he, Does not that man deserve pity, who strives for a woe +like this?" + +This passage, so worthy of preservation and of literal translation, is +given by Signor Tamburini as follows: "The tiara is the first of honors, +but also the first and heaviest of burdens, and the most rigorous +slavery; it is the greatest risk of misfortune and of shame. The Papal +mantle is pierced with sharp thorns; who, then, will excuse him who +frets himself for it?" + +But it is not only in passages relating to the Church that the +translator's faithlessness is displayed. Almost every page of his work +exhibits some omission, addition, transposition, or paraphrase, for +which no explanation can be given, and not even an insufficient excuse +be offered. In Canto IX. of the "Paradise," Dante puts into the mouth of +Cunizza, speaking of Foulques of Marseilles, the words, "Before his fame +shall die, the hundredth year shall five times come around." "And note +here," says Benvenuto, "that our author manifestly tells a falsehood; +since of that man there is no longer any fame, even in his own country. +I say, in brief, that the author wishes tacitly to hint that he will +give fame to him by his power,--a fame that shall not die so long as +this book shall live; and if we may conjecture of the future, it is to +last for many ages, since we see that the fame of our author continually +increases. And thus he exhorts men to live virtuously, that the wise may +bestow fame upon them, as he himself has now given it to Cunizza, +and will give it to Foulques." Not a word of this appears in Signor +Tamburini's pages, interesting as it is as an early expression of +confidence in the duration of Dante's fame. + +A similar omission of a curious reference to Dante occurs in the comment +on the 23d verse of Canto XXVII. of the "Inferno," where Benvenuto, +speaking of the power of mental engrossment or moral affections to +overcome physical pain, says, "As I, indeed, have seen a sick man cause +the poem of Dante to be brought to him for relief from the burning pains +of fever." + +Such omissions as these deprive Benvenuto's pages of the charm of +_naïveté_, and of the simple expression of personal experience and +feeling with which they abound in the original, and take from them +a great part of their interest for the general reader. But there +is another class of omissions and alterations which deprives the +translation of value for the special student of the text of Dante,--a +class embracing many of Benvenuto's discussions of disputed readings and +remarks upon verbal forms. Signor Tamburini has thus succeeded in making +his book of no use as an authority, and prevented it from being referred +to by any one desirous of learning Benvenuto's judgment in any case +of difficulty. To point out in detail instances of this kind is not +necessary, after what we have already done. + +The common epithets of critical justice fail in such a case as that of +this work. The facts concerning it, as they present themselves one after +another, are stronger in their condemnation of it than any words. It +would seem as if nothing further could be added to the disgrace of the +translator; but we have still one more charge to prove against him, +worse than the incompetence, the ignorance, and the dishonesty of which +we have already found him guilty. In reading the last volume of his +work, after our suspicions of its character had been aroused, it seemed +to us that we met here and there with sentences which had a familiar +tone, which at least resembled sentences we had elsewhere read. We +found, upon examination, that Signor Tamburini, under the pretence of a +translation of Benvenuto, had inserted through his pages, with a liberal +hand, considerable portions of the well-known notes of Costa, and, more +rarely, of the still later Florentine editor, the Abate Bianchi. It +occurred to us as possible that Costa and Bianchi had in these passages +themselves translated from Benvenuto, and that Signor Tamburini had +simply adopted their versions without acknowledgment, to save himself +the trouble of making a new translation. But we were soon satisfied that +his trickery had gone farther than this, and that he had inserted the +notes of these editors to fill up his own pages, without the slightest +regard to their correspondence with or disagreement from the original +text. It is impossible to discover the motive of this proceeding; for +it certainly would seem to be as easy to translate, after the manner +in which Signor Tamburini translates, as to copy the words of other +authors. Moreover, his thefts seem quite without rule or order: he takes +one note and leaves the next; he copies a part, and leaves the other +part of the same note; he sometimes quotes half a page, sometimes only a +line or two in many pages. Costa's notes on the 98th and 100th verses +of Canto XXI. of the "Paradise" are taken out without the change of a +single word, and so also his note on v. 94 of the next Canto. In this +last instance we have the means of knowing what Benvenuto wrote, +because, although the passage has not been given by Muratori, it is +found in the note by Parenti, in the Florentine edition of the "Divina +Commedia" of 1830. "Vult dicere Benedictus quod miraculosius fuit +Jordanem converti retrorsum, et Mare Rubrum aperiri per medium, quam +si Deus succurreret et provideret istis malis. Ratio est quod utrumque +praedictorum miraculorum fuit contra naturam; sed punire reos et +nocentes naturale est et usitatum, quamvis Deus punierit peccatores +AEgyptios per modum inusitatum supernaturaliter Jordanus sic nominatur +a duobus fontibus, quorum unus vocatur JOR et alius vocatur DAN: inde +JORDANUS, ut ait Hieronymus, locorum orientalium persedulus indagator. +_Volto ritrorso;_ scilicet, versus ortum suum, vel contra: _el mar +fugire;_ idest, et Mare Rubrum fugere hinc inde, quando fecit viam +populo Dei, qui transivit sicco pede: _fu qui mirabile a vedere;_ idest, +miraculosius, _chel soccorso que,_ idest, quam esset mirabile succursum +divinum hic venturum ad puniendos perversos." Now this whole passage is +omitted in Signor Tamburini's work; and in its place appears a literal +transcript from Costa's note, as follows: "Veramente fu più mirabile +cosa vedere il Giordano volto all' indietro o fuggire il mare, quando +così volle Iddio, che non sarebbe vedere qui il provvedimento a quel +male, che per colpa de' traviati religiosi viene alia Chiesa di Dio." + +Another instance of this complete desertion of Benvenuto, and adoption +of another's words, occurs just at the end of the same Canto, v. 150; +and the Florentine edition again gives us the original text. It is even +more inexplicable why the so-called translator should have chosen this +course here than in the preceding instance; for he has copied but a line +and a half from Costa, which is not a larceny of sufficient magnitude to +be of value to the thief. + +We have noted misappropriations of this sort, beside those already +mentioned, in Cantos II. and III. of the "Purgatory," and in Cantos I., +II., XV., XVI., XVIII., XIX., and XXIII., of the "Paradise." There are +undoubtedly others which have not attracted our attention. + +We have now finished our exposure of the false pretences of these +volumes, and of the character of their author. After what has been said +of them, it seems hardly worth while to note, that, though handsome in +external appearance, they are very carelessly and inaccurately printed, +and that they are totally deficient in needed editorial illustrations. +Such few notes of his own as Signor Tamburini has inserted in the course +of the work are deficient alike in intelligence and in object. + +A literary fraud of this magnitude is rarely attempted. A man must be +conscious of being supported by the forces of a corrupt ecclesiastical +literary police before venturing on a transaction of this kind. No shame +can touch the President of the "Academy of the Industrious." His book +has the triple _Imprimatur_ of Rome. It is a comment, not so much on +Dante, as on the low standard of literary honesty under a government +where the press is shackled, where true criticism is forbidden, where +the censorship exerts its power over the dead as well as the living, and +every word must be accommodated to the fancied needs of a despotism the +more exacting from the consciousness of its own decline. + +It is to be hoped, that, with the new freedom of Italian letters, an +edition of the original text of Benvenuto's Comment will be issued under +competent supervision. The old Commentator, the friend of Petrarch and +Boccaccio, deserves this honor, and should have his fame protected +against the assault made upon it by his unworthy compatriot. + + +_Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character_. By E.E. RAMSAY, M.A., +LL.D., F.R. S.E., Dean of Edinburgh. From the Seventh Edinburgh Edition. +Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. + +This book was not made, but grew. The foundation was a short lecture +delivered in Edinburgh. It was so popular that it was published in a +pamphlet form. The popularity of the pamphlet induced Dean Ramsay to +recall many anecdotes illustrating national peculiarities which could +not be compressed into a lyceum address. The result was that the +pamphlet became a thin volume, which grew thicker and thicker as edition +after edition was called for by the curiosity of the public. The +American reprint is from the seventh and last Edinburgh edition, and is +introduced by a genial preface, written especially for American readers. +The author is more than justified in thinking that there are numerous +persons scattered over our country, who, from ties of ancestry or +sympathy with Scotland, will enjoy a record of the quaint sayings and +eccentric acts of her past humorists,--"her original and strong-minded +old ladies,--her excellent and simple parish ministers,--her amusing +parochial half-daft idiots,--her pawky lairds,--and her old-fashioned +and now obsolete domestic servants and retainers." Indeed, the Yankee is +sufficiently allied, morally and intellectually, with the Scotchman, to +appreciate everything that illustrates the peculiarities of Scottish +humor. He has shown this by the delight he has found in those novels +of Scott's which relate exclusively to Scotland. The Englishman, and +perhaps the Frenchman, may have excelled him in the appreciation of +"Ivanhoe" and "Quentin Durward," but we doubt if even the first +has equalled him in the cozy enjoyment of the "Antiquary" and "Guy +Mannering." And Dean Ramsay's book proves how rich and deep was the +foundation in fact of the qualities which Sir Walter has immortalized +in fiction. He has arranged his "Reminiscences of Scottish Life and +Character" under five heads, relating respectively to the religious +feelings and observances, the conviviality, the domestic service, the +language and proverbs, and the peculiarities of the wit and humor of +Scotland. In New England, and wherever in any part of the country +the New-Englander resides, the volume will receive a most cordial +recognition. Dean Ramsay's qualifications for his work are plainly +implied in his evident understanding and enjoyment of the humor of +Scottish character. He writes about that which he feels and knows; and, +without any exercise of analysis and generalization, he subtly conveys +to the reader the inmost spirit of the national life he undertakes to +illustrate by narrative, anecdote, and comment. The finest critical and +artistic skill would be inadequate to insinuate into the mind so +keen and vivid a perception of Scottish characteristics as escape +unconsciously from the simple statements of this true Scotchman, who is +in hearty sympathy with his countrymen. + + +_The Pulpit of the American Revolution: or, The Political Sermons of +the Period of_ 1776. With a Historical Introduction, Notes, and +Illustrations. By JOHN WINGATE THORNTON, A.M. Boston: Gould & Lincoln. +12mo. + +This is a volume worthy a place in every American library, public or +private. It consists of nine discourses by the same number of patriotic +clergymen of the Revolution. Mr. Thornton, the editor, has supplied an +historical introduction, full of curious and interesting matter, and has +also given a special preface to each sermon, with notes explaining all +those allusions in the text which might puzzle an ordinary reader of the +present day. His annotations have not only the value which comes from +patient research, but the charm which proceeds from loving partisanship. +He transports himself into the times about which he writes, and +almost seems to have listened to the sermons he now comes forward to +illustrate. The volume contains Dr. Mayhew's sermon on "Unlimited +Submission," Dr. Chauncy's on the "Repeal of the Stamp Act," Rev. Mr. +Cooke's Election Sermon on the "True Principles of Civil Government," +Rev. Mr. Gordon's "Thanksgiving Sermon in 1774," and the discourses, +celebrated in their day, of Langdon, Stiles, West, Payson, and Howard. +Among these, the first rank is doubtless due to Dr. Mayhew's remarkable +discourse at the West Church on the 30th of January, 1750. The topics +relating to "non-resistance to the higher powers," which Macaulay treats +with such wealth of statement, argument, and illustration, in his +"History of England," are in this sermon discussed with equal +earnestness, energy, brilliancy, fulness, and independence of thought. +If all political sermons were characterized by the rare mental and moral +qualities which distinguish Jonathan Mayhew's, there can be little doubt +that our politicians and statesmen would oppose the intrusion of parsons +into affairs of state on the principle of self-preservation, and not on +any arrogant pretension of superior sagacity, knowledge, and ability. +In the power to inform the people of their rights and teach them their +duties, we would be willing to pit one Mayhew against a score of +Cushings and Rhetts, of Slidells and Yanceys. The fact that Mayhew's +large and noble soul glowed with the inspiration of a quick moral and +religious, as well as common, sense, would not, in our humble opinion, +at all detract from his practical efficiency. + + +_Works of Charles Dickens Household Edition_. Illustrated from Drawings +by F.O.C. Darley and John Gilbert. The Pickwick Papers. New York: W.A. +Townsend & Co. 4 vols. 12mo. + +We have long needed a handsome American edition of the works of the most +popular English novelist of the time, and here we have the first volumes +of one which is superior, in type, paper, illustrations, and general +taste of mechanical execution, to the best English editions. It is to +be published at the rate of two volumes a month until completed, and in +respect both to cheapness and elegance is worthy of the most extensive +circulation. Such an enterprise very properly commences with "The +Pickwick Papers," the work in which the hilarity, humor, and tenderness +of the author's humane and beautiful genius first attracted general +regard; and it is to be followed by equally fine editions of the +romances which succeeded, and, as some think, eclipsed it in merit and +popularity. We most cordially wish success to an undertaking which +promises to substitute the finest workmanship of the Riverside Press for +the bad type and dingy paper of the common editions, and hope that the +publishers will see the propriety of adequately remunerating the author. + +It is pleasant to note that years and hard work have not dimmed the +brightness or impaired the strength of Dickens's mind. The freshness, +vigor, and affluence of his genius are not more evident in the "Old +Curiosity Shop" than in "Great Expectations," the novel he is now +publishing, in weekly parts, in "All the Year Round." Common as is the +churlish custom of depreciating a new work of a favorite author by +petulantly exalting the worth of an old one, no fair reader of "Great +Expectations" will feel inclined to say that Dickens has written +himself out. In this novel he gives us new scenes, new incidents, new +characters, and a new purpose; and from his seemingly exhaustless fund +of genial creativeness, we may confidently look for continual additions +to the works which have already established his fame. The characters +in "Great Expectations" are original, and some of them promise to rank +among his best delineations. Pip, the hero, who, as a child, "was +brought up by hand," and who appears so far to be led by it,--thus +illustrating the pernicious effect in manhood of that mode of taking +nourishment in infancy,--is a delicious creation, quite equal to David +Copperfield. Jaggers, the peremptory lawyer, who carries into ordinary +conduct and conversation the habits of the criminal bar, and bullies and +cross-examines even his dinner and his wine,--Joe, the husband of "the +hand" by which Pip was brought up,--Wopsle, Wemmick, Orlick, the family +of the Pockets, the mysterious Miss Havisham, and the disdainful +Estella, are not repetitions, but personages that the author introduces +to his readers for the first time. The story is not sufficiently +advanced to enable us to judge of its merit, but it has evidently been +carefully meditated, and here and there the reader's curiosity is stung +by fine hints of a secret which the weaver of the plot still contrives +to keep to himself. 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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: Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 7, No. 43, May, 1861 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 19, 2004 [EBook #11170] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, NO. 43 *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. VII.--MAY, 1861.--NO. XLIII. + + +AGNES OF SORRENTO. + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE OLD TOWN. + + +The setting sunbeams slant over the antique gateway of Sorrento, fusing +into a golden bronze the brown freestone vestments of old Saint Antonio, +who with his heavy stone mitre and upraised hands has for centuries kept +watch thereupon. + +A quiet time he has of it up there in the golden Italian air, in +petrified act of blessing, while orange lichens and green mosses from +year to year embroider quaint patterns on the seams of his sacerdotal +vestments, and small tassels of grass volunteer to ornament the folds +of his priestly drapery, and golden showers of blossoms from some more +hardy plant fall from his ample sleeve-cuffs. Little birds perch and +chitter and wipe their beaks unconcernedly, now on the tip of his nose +and now on the point of his mitre, while the world below goes on its way +pretty much as it did when the good saint was alive, and, in despair of +the human brotherhood, took to preaching to the birds and the fishes. + +Whoever passed beneath this old arched gateway, thus saint-guarded, +in the year of our Lord's grace--, might have seen under its shadow, +sitting opposite to a stand of golden oranges, the little Agnes. + +A very pretty picture was she, reader.--with such a face as you +sometimes see painted in those wayside shrines of sunny Italy, where the +lamp burns pale at evening, and gillyflower and cyclamen are renewed +with every morning. + +She might have been fifteen or thereabouts, but was so small of stature +that she seemed yet a child. Her black hair was parted in a white +unbroken seam down to the high forehead, whose serious arch, like that +of a cathedral-door, spoke of thought and prayer. Beneath the shadows of +this brow lay brown, translucent eyes, into whose thoughtful depths one +might look as pilgrims gaze into the waters of some saintly well, cool +and pure down to the unblemished sand at the bottom. The small lips had +a gentle compression which indicated a repressed strength of feeling; +while the straight line of the nose, and the flexible, delicate nostril, +were perfect as in those sculptured fragments of the antique which the +soil of Italy so often gives forth to the day from the sepulchres of the +past. The habitual pose of the head and face had the shy uplooking grace +of a violet; and yet there was a grave tranquillity of expression, which +gave a peculiar degree of character to the whole figure. + +At the moment at which we have called your attention, the fair head is +bent, the long eyelashes lie softly down on the pale, smooth cheek; for +the Ave Maria bell is sounding from the Cathedral of Sorrento, and the +child is busy with her beads. + +By her side sits a woman of some threescore years, tall, stately, and +squarely formed, with ample breadth of back and size of chest, like the +robust dames of Sorrento. Her strong Roman nose, the firm, determined +outline of her mouth, and a certain energy in every motion, speak the +woman of will and purpose. There is a degree of vigor in the decision +with which she lays down her spindle and bows her head, as a good +Christian of those days would, at the swinging of the evening bell. + +But while the soul of the child in its morning freshness, free from +pressure or conscience of earthly care, rose like an illuminated mist +to heaven, the words the white-haired woman repeated were twined with +threads of worldly prudence,--thoughts of how many oranges she had +sold, with a rough guess at the probable amount for the day,--and her +fingers wandered from her beads a moment to see if the last coin had +been swept from the stand into her capacious pocket, and her eyes +wandering after them suddenly made her aware of the fact that a handsome +cavalier was standing in the gate, regarding her pretty grandchild with +looks of undisguised admiration. + +"Let him look!" she said to herself, with a grim clasp on her +rosary;--"a fair face draws buyers, and our oranges must be turned into +money; but he who does more than look has an affair with me;--so gaze +away, my master, and take it out in buying oranges!--_Ave, Maria! ora +pro nobis, nunc et,_" etc., etc. + +A few moments, and the wave of prayer which had flowed down the quaint +old shadowy street, bowing all heads as the wind bowed the scarlet +tassels of neighboring clover-fields, was passed, and all the world +resumed the work of earth just where they left off when the bell began. + +"Good even to you, pretty maiden!" said the cavalier, approaching the +stall of the orange-woman with the easy, confident air of one secure +of a ready welcome, and bending down on the yet prayerful maiden the +glances of a pair of piercing hazel eyes that looked out on each side of +his aquiline nose with the keenness of a falcon's. + +"Good even to you, pretty one! We shall take you for a saint, and +worship you in right earnest, if you raise not those eyelashes soon." + +"Sir! my lord!" said the girl,--a bright color flushing into her smooth +brown cheeks, and her large dreamy eyes suddenly upraised with a +flutter, as of a bird about to take flight. + +"Agnes, bethink yourself!" said the white-haired dame;--"the gentleman +asks the price of your oranges;--be alive, child!" + +"Ah, my lord," said the young girl, "here are a dozen fine ones." + +"Well, you shall give them me, pretty one," said the young man, throwing +a gold piece down on the stand with a careless ring. + +"Here, Agnes, run to the stall of Raphael the poulterer for change," +said the adroit dame, picking up the gold. + +"Nay, good mother, by your leave," said the unabashed cavalier; "I make +my change with youth and beauty thus!" And with the word he stooped down +and kissed the fair forehead between the eyes. + +"For shame, Sir!" said the elderly woman, raising her distaff,--her +great glittering eyes flashing beneath her silver hair like tongues of +lightning from a white cloud, "Have a care!--this child is named for +blessed Saint Agnes, and is under her protection." + +"The saints must pray for us, when their beauty makes us forget +ourselves," said the young cavalier, with a smile. "Look me in the face, +little one," he added;--"say, wilt thou pray for me?" + +The maiden raised her large serious eyes, and surveyed the haughty, +handsome face with that look of sober inquiry which one sometimes sees +in young children, and the blush slowly faded from, her cheek, as a +cloud fades after sunset. + +"Yes, my lord," she answered, with a grave simplicity,--"I will pray for +you." + +"And hang this upon the shrine of Saint Agnes for my sake," he added, +drawing from his finger a diamond ring, which he dropped into her hand; +and before mother or daughter could add another word or recover from +their surprise, he had thrown the corner of his mantle over his shoulder +and was off down the narrow street, humming the refrain of a gay song. + +"You have struck a pretty dove with that bolt," said another cavalier, +who appeared to have been observing the proceeding, and now, stepping +forward, joined him. + +"Like enough," said the first, carelessly. + +"The old woman keeps her mewed up like a singing-bird," said the second; +"and if a fellow wants speech of her, it's as much as his crown is +worth; for Dame Elsie has a strong arm, and her distaff is known to be +heavy." + +"Upon my word," said the first cavalier, stopping and throwing a glance +backward,--"where do they keep her?" + +"Oh, in a sort of pigeon's nest up above the Gorge; but one never sees +her, except under the fire of her grandmother's eyes. The little one +is brought up for a saint, they say, and goes nowhere but to mass, +confession, and the sacrament." + +"Humph!" said the other, "she looks like some choice old picture of Our +Lady,--not a drop of human blood in her. When I kissed her forehead, she +looked into my face as grave and innocent as a babe. One is tempted to +try what one can do in such a case." + +"Beware the grandmother's distaff!" said the other, laughing. + +"I've seen old women before," said the cavalier, as they turned down the +street and were lost to view. + +Meanwhile the grandmother and granddaughter were roused from the mute +astonishment in which they were gazing after the young cavalier by a +tittering behind them; and a pair of bright eyes looked out upon, them +from beneath a bundle of long, crimson-headed clover, whose rich carmine +tints were touched to brighter life by setting sunbeams. + +There stood Giulietta, the head coquette of the Sorrento girls, with her +broad shoulders, full chest, and great black eyes, rich and heavy as +those of the silver-haired ox for whose benefit she had been cutting +clover. Her bronzed cheek was smooth as that of any statue, and showed a +color like that of an open pomegranate; and the opulent, lazy abundance +of her ample form, with her leisurely movements, spoke an easy and +comfortable nature,--that is to say, when Giulietta was pleased; for it +is to be remarked that there lurked certain sparkles deep down in her +great eyes, which might, on occasion, blaze out into sheet-lightning, +like her own beautiful skies, which, lovely as they are, can thunder +and sulk with terrible earnestness when the fit takes them. At present, +however, her face was running over with mischievous merriment, as she +slyly pinched little Agnes by the ear. + +"So you know not yon gay cavalier, little sister?" she said, looking +askance at her from under her long lashes. + +"No, indeed! What has an honest girl to do with knowing gay cavaliers?" +said Dame Elsie, bestirring herself with packing the remaining oranges +into a basket, which she covered trimly with a heavy linen towel of her +own weaving. "Girls never come to good who let their eyes go walking +through the earth, and have the names of all the wild gallants on +their tongues. Agnes knows no such nonsense,--blessed be her gracious +patroness, with Our Lady and Saint Michael!" + +"I hope there is no harm in knowing what is right before one's eyes," +said Giulietta. "Anybody must be blind and deaf not to know the Lord +Adrian. All the girls in Sorrento know him. They say he is even greater +than he appears,--that he is brother to the King himself; at any rate, a +handsomer and more gallant gentleman never wore spurs." + +"Let him keep to his own kind," said Elsie. "Eagles make bad work in +dovecots. No good comes of such gallants for us." + +"Nor any harm, that I ever heard of," said Giulietta. "But let me see, +pretty one,--what did he give you? Holy Mother! what a handsome ring!" + +"It is to hang on the shrine of Saint Agnes," said the younger girl, +looking up with simplicity. + +A loud laugh was the first answer to this communication. The scarlet +clover-tops shook and quivered with the merriment. + +"To hang on the shrine of Saint Agnes!" Giulietta repeated. "That is a +little too good!" + +"Go, go, you baggage!" said Elsie, wrathfully brandishing her spindle. +"If ever you get a husband, I hope he'll give you a good beating! You +need it, I warrant! Always stopping on the bridge there, to have cracks +with the young men! Little enough you know of saints, I dare say! So +keep away from my child!--Come, Agnes," she said, as she lifted the +orange-basket on to her head; and, straightening her tall form, she +seized the girl by the hand to lead her away. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE DOVE-COT. + + +The old town of Sorrento is situated on an elevated plateau, which +stretches into the sunny waters of the Mediterranean, guarded on all +sides by a barrier of mountains which defend it from bleak winds and +serve to it the purpose of walls to a garden. Here, groves of oranges +and lemons,--with their almost fabulous coincidence of fruitage with +flowers, fill the air with perfume, which blends with that of roses and +jessamines; and the fields are so starred and enamelled with flowers +that they might have served as the type for those Elysian realms sung by +ancient poets. The fervid air is fanned by continual sea-breezes, which +give a delightful elasticity to the otherwise languid climate. Under +all these cherishing influences, the human being develops a wealth and +luxuriance of physical beauty unknown in less favored regions. In the +region about Sorrento one may be said to have found the land where +beauty is the rule and not the exception. The singularity there is not +to see handsome points of physical proportion, but rather to see those +who are without them. Scarce a man, woman, or child you meet who has not +some personal advantage to be commended, while even striking beauty is +common. Also, under these kindly skies, a native courtesy and gentleness +of manner make themselves felt. It would seem as if humanity, rocked +in this flowery cradle, and soothed by so many daily caresses and +appliances of nursing Nature, grew up with all that is kindliest on the +outward,--not repressed and beat in, as under the inclement atmosphere +and stormy skies of the North. + +The town of Sorrento itself overhangs the sea, skirting along rocky +shores, which, hollowed here and there into picturesque grottoes, and +fledged with a wild plumage of brilliant flowers and trailing vines, +descend in steep precipices to the water. Along the shelly beach, at +the bottom, one can wander to look out on the loveliest prospect in the +world. Vesuvius rises with its two peaks softly clouded in blue and +purple mists, which blend with its ascending vapors,--Naples and the +adjoining villages at its base gleaming in the distance like a fringe +of pearls on a regal mantle. Nearer by, the picturesque rocky shores of +the island of Capri seem to pulsate through the dreamy, shifting mists +that veil its sides; and the sea shimmers and glitters like the neck +of a peacock with an iridescent mingling of colors: the whole air is a +glorifying medium, rich in prismatic hues of enchantment. + +The town on three sides is severed from the main land by a gorge two +hundred feet in depth and forty or fifty in breadth, crossed by a bridge +resting on double arches, the construction of which dates back to +the time of the ancient Romans. This bridge affords a favorite +lounging-place for the inhabitants, and at evening a motley assemblage +may be seen lolling over its moss-grown sides,--men with their +picturesque knit caps of scarlet or brown falling gracefully on one +shoulder, and women with their shining black hair and the enormous pearl +earrings which are the pride and heirlooms of every family. The present +traveller at Sorrento may remember standing on this bridge and looking +down the gloomy depths of the gorge, to where a fair villa, with its +groves of orange-trees and gardens, overhangs the tremendous depths +below. + +Hundreds of years since, where this villa now stands was the simple +dwelling of the two women whose history we have begun to tell you. There +you might have seen a small stone cottage with a two-arched arcade +in front, gleaming brilliantly white out of the dusky foliage of an +orange-orchard. The dwelling was wedged like a bird-box between two +fragments of rock, and behind it the land rose rocky, high, and steep, +so as to form a natural wall. A small ledge or terrace of cultivated +land here hung in air,--below it, a precipice of two hundred feet down +into the Gorge of Sorrento. A couple of dozen orange-trees, straight +and tall, with healthy, shining bark, here shot up from the fine black +volcanic soil, and made with their foliage a twilight shadow on the +ground, so deep that no vegetation, save a fine velvet moss, could +dispute their claim to its entire nutritious offices. These trees were +the sole wealth of the women and the sole ornament of the garden; but, +as they stood there, not only laden with golden fruit, but fragrant with +pearly blossoms, they made the little rocky platform seem a perfect +Garden of the Hesperides. The stone cottage, as we have said, had an +open, whitewashed arcade in front, from which one could look down into +the gloomy depths of the gorge, as into some mysterious underworld. +Strange and weird it seemed, with its fathomless shadows and its wild +grottoes, over which hung, silently waving, long pendants of ivy, while +dusky gray aloes uplifted their horned heads from great rock-rifts, like +elfin spirits struggling upward out of the shade. Nor was wanting the +usual gentle poetry of flowers; for white iris leaned its fairy pavilion +over the black void like a pale-cheeked princess from the window of some +dark enchanted castle, and scarlet geranium and golden broom and crimson +gladiolus waved and glowed in the shifting beams of the sunlight. Also +there was in this little spot what forms the charm of Italian gardens +always,--the sweet song and prattle of waters. A clear mountain-spring +burst through the rock on one side of the little cottage, and fell with +a lulling noise into a quaint moss-grown water-trough, which had been in +former times the sarcophagus of some old Roman sepulchre. Its sides were +richly sculptured with figures and leafy scrolls and arabesques, into +which the sly-footed lichens with quiet growth had so insinuated +themselves as in some places almost to obliterate the original design; +while, round the place where the water fell, a veil of ferns and +maiden's-hair, studded with tremulous silver drops, vibrated to its +soothing murmur. The superfluous waters, drained off by a little channel +on one side, were conducted through the rocky parapet of the garden, +whence they trickled and tinkled from rock to rock, falling with a +continual drip among the swaying ferns and pendent ivy-wreaths, till +they reached the little stream at the bottom of the gorge. This parapet +or garden-wall was formed of blocks or fragments of what had once been +white marble, the probable remains of the ancient tomb from which the +sarcophagus was taken. Here and there a marble acanthus-leaf, or the +capital of an old column, or a fragment of sculpture jutted from under +the mosses, ferns, and grasses with which prodigal Nature had filled +every interstice and carpeted the whole. These sculptured fragments +everywhere in Italy seem to whisper from the dust, of past life and +death, of a cycle of human existence forever gone, over whose tomb the +life of to-day is built. + +"Sit down and rest, my dove," said Dame Elsie to her little charge, as +they entered their little inclosure. + +Here she saw for the first time, what she had not noticed in the heat +and hurry of her ascent, that the girl was panting and her gentle bosom +rising and falling in thick heart-beats, occasioned by the haste with +which she had drawn her onward. + +"Sit down, dearie, and I will get you a bit of supper." + +"Yes, grandmother, I will. I must tell my beads once for the soul of the +handsome gentleman that kissed my forehead to-night." + +"How did you know that he was handsome, child?" said the old dame, with +some sharpness in her voice. + +"He bade me look on him, grandmother, and I saw it." + +"You must put such thoughts away, child," said the old dame. + +"Why must I?" said the girl, looking up with an eye as clear and +unconscious as that of a three-year old child. + +"If she does not think, why should I tell her?" said Dame Elsie, as she +turned to go into the house, and left the child sitting on the mossy +parapet that overlooked the gorge. Thence she could see far off, not +only down the dim, sombre abyss, but out to the blue Mediterranean +beyond, now calmly lying in swathing-bands of purple, gold, and orange, +while the smoky cloud that overhung Vesuvius became silver and rose in +the evening light. + +There is always something of elevation and parity that seems to come +over one from being in an elevated region. One feels morally as well as +physically above the world, and from that clearer air able to look down +on it calmly with disengaged freedom. Our little maiden, sat for a few +moments gazing, her large brown eyes dilating with a tremulous lustre, +as if tears were half of a mind to start in them, and her lips apart +with a delicate earnestness, like one who is pursuing some pleasing +inner thought. Suddenly rousing herself, she began by breaking the +freshest orange-blossoms from the golden-fruited trees, and, kissing and +pressing them to her bosom, she proceeded to remove the faded flowers of +the morning from before a little rude shrine in the rock, where, in a +sculptured niche, was a picture of the Madonna and Child, with a locked +glass door in front of it. The picture was a happy transcript of one of +the fairest creations of the religious school of Florence, done by one +of those rustic copyists of whom Italy is full, who appear to possess +the instinct of painting, and to whom we owe many of those sweet +faces which sometimes look down on us by the way-side from rudest and +homeliest shrines. + +The poor fellow by whom it had been painted was one to whom years before +Dame Elsie had given food and shelter for many months during a lingering +illness; and he had painted so much of his dying heart and hopes into it +that it had a peculiar and vital vividness in its power of affecting the +feelings. Agnes had been familiar with this picture from early infancy. +No day of her life had the flowers failed to be freshly placed before +it. It had seemed to smile down sympathy on her childish joys, and to +cloud over with her childish sorrows. It was less a picture to her than +a presence; and the whole air of the little orange-garden seemed to be +made sacred by it. When she had arranged her flowers, she kneeled down +and began to say prayers for the soul of the young gallant. + +"Holy Jesus," she said, "he is young, rich, handsome, and a king's +brother; and for all these things the Fiend may tempt him to forget his +God and throw away his soul. Holy Mother, give him good counsel!" + +"Come, child, to your supper," said Dame Elsie. "I have milked the +goats, and everything is ready." + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE GORGE. + + +After her light supper was over, Agnes took her distaff, wound with +shining white flax, and went and seated herself in her favorite place, +on the low parapet that overlooked the gorge. + +This ravine, with its dizzy depths, its waving foliage, its dripping +springs, and the low murmur of the little stream that pursued its way +far down at the bottom, was one of those things which stimulated her +impressible imagination, and filled her with a solemn and vague delight. +The ancient Italian tradition made it the home of fauns and dryads, wild +woodland creatures, intermediate links between vegetable life and that +of sentient and reasoning humanity. The more earnest faith that came in +with Christianity, if it had its brighter lights in an immortality of +blessedness, had also its deeper shadows in the intenser perceptions it +awakened of sin and evil, and of the mortal struggle by which the human +spirit must avoid endless woe and rise to endless felicity. The myths +with which the colored Italian air was filled in mediaeval ages no +longer resembled those graceful, floating, cloud-like figures one sees +in the ancient chambers of Pompeii,--the bubbles and rainbows of human +fancy, rising aimless and buoyant, with a mere freshness of animal life, +against a black background of utter and hopeless ignorance as to man's +past or future. They were rather expressed by solemn images of +mournful, majestic angels and of triumphant saints, or fearful, warning +presentations of loathsome fiends. Each lonesome gorge and sombre dell +had tales no more of tricky fauns and dryads, but of those restless, +wandering demons who, having lost their own immortality of blessedness, +constantly lie in wait to betray frail humanity, and cheat it of that +glorious inheritance bought by the Great Redemption. + +The education of Agnes had been one which rendered her whole system +peculiarly sensitive and impressible to all influences from the +invisible and unseen. Of this education we shall speak more particularly +hereafter. At present we see her sitting in the twilight on the +moss-grown marble parapet, her distaff, with its silvery flax, lying +idly in her hands, and her widening dark eyes gazing intently into the +gloomy gorge below, from which arose the far-off complaining babble of +the brook at the bottom and the shiver and sigh of evening winds +through the trailing ivy. The white mist was slowly rising, wavering, +undulating, and creeping its slow way up the sides of the gorge. Now it +hid a tuft of foliage, and now it wreathed itself around a horned clump +of aloes, and, streaming far down below it in the dimness, made it seem +like the goblin robe of some strange, supernatural being. + +The evening light had almost burned out in the sky: only a band of vivid +red lay low in the horizon out to sea, and the round full moon was just +rising like a great silver lamp, while Vesuvius with its smoky top began +in the obscurity to show its faintly flickering fires. A vague agitation +seemed to oppress the child; for she sighed deeply, and often repeated +with fervor the Ave Maria. + +At this moment there began to rise from the very depths of the gorge +below her the sound of a rich tenor voice, with a slow, sad modulation, +and seeming to pulsate upward through the filmy, shifting mists. It was +one of those voices which seem fit to be the outpouring of some spirit +denied all other gifts of expression, and rushing with passionate fervor +through this one gate of utterance. So distinctly were the words spoken, +that they seemed each one to rise as with a separate intelligence out of +the mist, and to knock at the door of the heart. + + Sad is my life, and lonely! + No hope for me, + Save thou, my love, my only, + I see! + + Where art then, O my fairest? + Where art thou gone? + Dove of the rock, I languish + Alone! + + They say thou art so saintly, + Who dare love thee? + Yet bend thine eyelids holy + On me! + + Though heaven alone possess thee, + Thou dwell'st above, + Yet heaven, didst thou but know it, + Is love. + +There was such an intense earnestness in these sounds, that large tears +gathered in the wide, dark eyes, and fell one after another upon the +sweet alyssum and maiden's-hair that grew in the crevices of the marble +wall. She shivered and drew away from the parapet, and thought of +stories she had heard the nuns tell of wandering spirits who sometimes +in lonesome places pour forth such entrancing music as bewilders the +brain of the unwary listener, and leads him to some fearful destruction. + +"Agnes!" said the sharp voice of old Elsie, appearing at the +door,--"here! where are you?" + +"Here, grandmamma." + +"Who's that singing this time o' night?" + +"I don't know, grandmamma." + +Somehow the child felt as if that singing were strangely sacred to +her,--a _rapport_ between her and something vague and invisible, which +might yet become dear. + +"Is't down in the gorge?" said the old woman, coming with her heavy, +decided step to the parapet, and looking over, her keen black eyes +gleaming like dagger-blades info the mist. "If there's anybody there," +she said, "let them go away, and not be troubling honest women with any +of their caterwauling. Come, Agnes," she said, pulling the girl by the +sleeve, "you must be tired, my lamb! and your evening-prayers are always +so long, best be about them, girl, so that old grandmamma may put you to +bed. What ails the girl? Been crying! Your hand is cold as a stone." + +"Grandmamma, what if that might be a spirit?" she said. "Sister Rosa +told me stories of singing spirits that have been in this very gorge." + +"Likely enough," said Dame Elsie; "but what's that to us? Let 'em sing! +--so long as we don't listen, where's the harm done? We will sprinkle +holy water all round the parapet, and say the office of Saint Agnes, and +let them sing till they are hoarse." + +Such was the triumphant view which this energetic good woman took of the +power of the means of grace which her church placed at her disposal. + +Nevertheless, while Agnes was kneeling at her evening-prayers, the old +dame consoled herself with a soliloquy, as with a brush she vigorously +besprinkled the premises with holy water. + +"Now, here's the plague of a girl! If she's handsome,--and nobody wants +one that isn't,--why, then, it's a purgatory to look after her. This one +is good enough,--none of your hussies, like Giulietta: but the better +they are, the more sure to have fellows after them. A murrain on that +cavalier,--king's brother, or what not!--it was he serenading, I'll be +bound. I must tell Antonio, and have the girl married, for aught I see: +and I don't want to give her to him either; he didn't bring her up. +There's no peace for us mothers. Maybe I'll tell Father Francesco about +it. That's the way poor little Isella was carried away. Singing is of +the Devil, I believe; it always bewitches girls. I'd like to have poured +some hot oil down the rocks: I'd have made him squeak in another tone, I +reckon. Well, well! I hope I shall come in for a good seat in paradise +for all the trouble I've had with her mother, and am like to have with +her,--that's all!" + +In an hour more, the large, round, sober moon was shining fixedly on +the little mansion in the rocks, silvering the glossy darkness of the +orange-leaves, while the scent of the blossoms arose like clouds about +the cottage. The moonlight streamed through the unglazed casement, and +made a square of light on the little bed where Agnes was sleeping, +in which square her delicate face was framed, with its tremulous and +spiritual expression most resembling in its sweet plaintive purity some +of the Madonna faces of Frà Angelico,--those tender wild-flowers of +Italian religion and poetry. + +By her side lay her grandmother, with those sharp, hard, clearly cut +features, so worn and bronzed by time, so lined with labor and care, as +to resemble one of the Fates in the picture of Michel Angelo; and even +in her sleep she held the delicate lily hand of the child in her own +hard, brown one, with a strong and determined clasp. + +While they sleep, we must tell something more of the story of the little +Agnes,--of what she is, and what are the causes which have made her +such. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHO AND WHAT. + + +Old Elsie was not born a peasant. Originally she was the wife of +a steward in one of those great families of Rome whose state and +traditions were princely. Elsie, as her figure and profile and all her +words and movements indicated, was of a strong, shrewd, ambitious, and +courageous character, and well disposed to turn to advantage every gift +with which Nature had endowed her. + +Providence made her a present of a daughter whose beauty was wonderful, +even in a country where beauty is no uncommon accident. In addition to +her beauty, the little Isella had quick intelligence, wit, grace, and +spirit. As a child she became the pet and plaything of the Duchess whom +Elsie served. This noble lady, pressed by the _ennui_ which is always +the moth and rust on the purple and gold of rank and wealth, had, +as other noble ladies had in those days, and have now, sundry pets: +greyhounds, white and delicate, that looked as if they were made of +Sèvres china; spaniels with long silky ears and fringy paws; apes and +monkeys, that made at times sad devastations in her wardrobe; and a most +charming little dwarf, that was ugly enough to frighten the very owls, +and spiteful as he was ugly. She had, moreover, peacocks, and macaws, +and parrots, and all sorts of singing-birds, and falcons of every breed, +and horses, and hounds,--in short, there is no saying what she did not +have. One day she took it into her head to add the little Isella to the +number of her acquisitions. With the easy grace of aristocracy, she +reached out her jewelled hand and took Elsie's one flower to add to her +conservatory,--and Elsie was only too proud to have it so. + +Her daughter was kept constantly about the person of the Duchess, and +instructed in all the wisdom which would have been allowed her, had she +been the Duchess's own daughter, which, to speak the truth, was in +those days nothing very profound,--consisting of a little singing and +instrumentation, a little embroidery and dancing, with the power of +writing her own name and of reading a love-letter. + +All the world knows that the very idea of a pet is something to be +spoiled for the amusement of the pet-owner; and Isella was spoiled in +the most particular and circumstantial manner. She had suits of apparel +for every day in the year, and jewels without end,--for the Duchess was +never weary of trying the effect of her beauty in this and that costume; +so that she sported through the great grand halls and down the long +aisles of the garden much like a bright-winged hummingbird, or a +damsel-fly all green and gold. She was a genuine child of Italy,--full +of feeling, spirit, and genius,--alive in every nerve to the +finger-tips; and under the tropical sunshine of her mistress's favor she +grew as an Italian rose-bush does, throwing its branches freakishly over +everything in a wild labyrinth of perfume, brightness, and thorns. + +For a while her life was a triumph, and her mother triumphed with her at +an humble distance. The Duchess had no daughter, and was devoted to her +with the blind fatuity with which ladies of rank at times will invest +themselves in a caprice. She arrogated to herself all the praises of her +beauty and wit, allowed her to flirt and make conquests to her heart's +content, and engaged to marry her to some handsome young officer of her +train, when she had done being amused with her. + +Now we must not wonder that a young head of fifteen should have been +turned by this giddy elevation, nor that an old head of fifty should +have thought all things were possible in the fortune of such a favorite. +Nor must we wonder that the young coquette, rich in the laurels of a +hundred conquests, should have turned her bright eyes on the son and +heir, when he came home from the University of Bologna. Nor is it to be +wondered at that this same son and heir, being a man as well as a duke's +son, should have done as other men did,--fallen desperately in love with +this dazzling, sparkling, piquant mixture of matter and spirit, which no +university can prepare a young man to comprehend,--which always seemed +to run from him, and yet always threw a Parthian shot behind her as she +fled. Nor is it to be wondered at, if this same duke's son, after a week +or two, did not know whether he was on his head or his heels, or whether +the sun rose in the east or the south, or where he stood, or whither he +was going. + +In fact, the youthful pair very soon came into that dream-land where are +no more any points of the compass, no more division of time, no more +latitude and longitude, no more up and down, but only a general +wandering among enchanted groves and singing nightingales. + +It was entirely owing to old Elsie's watchful shrewdness and address +that the lovers came into this paradise by the gate of marriage; for the +young man was ready to offer anything at the feet of his divinity, as +the old mother was not slow to perceive. + +So they stood at the altar, for the time being a pair of as true lovers +as Romeo and Juliet: but then, what has true love to do with the son of +a hundred generations and heir to a Roman principality? + +Of course, the rose of love, having gone through all its stages of bud +and blossom into full flower, must next begin to drop its leaves. Of +course. Who ever heard of an immortal rose? + +The time of discovery came. Isella was found to be a mother; and then +the storm burst upon her and drabbled her in the dust as fearlessly as +the summer-wind sweeps down and besmirches the lily it has all summer +been wooing and flattering. + +The Duchess was a very pious and moral lady, and of course threw her +favorite out into the street as a vile weed, and virtuously ground her +down under her jewelled high-heeled shoes. + +She could have forgiven her any common frailty;--of course it was +natural that the girl should have been seduced by the all-conquering +charms of her son;--but aspire to _marriage_ with their house!--pretend +to be her son's _wife_! Since the time of Judas had such treachery ever +been heard of? + +Something was said of the propriety of walling up the culprit alive,--a +mode of disposing of small family-matters somewhat _à la mode_ in those +times. But the Duchess acknowledged herself foolishly tender, and unable +quite to allow this very obvious propriety in the case. + +She contented herself with turning mother and daughter into the streets +with every mark of ignominy, which was reduplicated by every one of her +servants, lackeys, and court-companions, who, of course, had always +known just how the thing must end. + +As to the young Duke, he acted as a well-instructed young nobleman +should, who understands the great difference there is between the tears +of a duchess and those of low-born women. No sooner did he behold his +conduct in the light of his mother's countenance than he turned his +back on his low marriage with edifying penitence. He did not think it +necessary to convince his mother of the real existence of a union whose +very supposition made her so unhappy, and occasioned such an uncommonly +disagreeable and tempestuous state of things in the well-bred circle +where his birth called him to move. Being, however, a religious youth, +he opened his mind to his family-confessor, by whose advice he sent a +messenger with a large sum of money to Elsie, piously commending her and +her daughter to the Divine protection. He also gave orders for an entire +new suit of raiment for the Virgin Mary in the family-chapel, including +a splendid set of diamonds, and promised unlimited candles to the altar +of a neighboring convent. If all this could not atone for a youthful +error, it was a pity. So he thought, as he drew on his riding-gloves +and went off on a hunting-party, like a gallant and religious young +nobleman. + +Elsie, meanwhile, with her forlorn and disgraced daughter, found a +temporary asylum in a neighboring mountain-village, where the poor, +bedrabbled, broken-winged song-bird soon panted and fluttered her little +life away. + +When the once beautiful and gay Isella had been hidden in the grave, +cold and lonely, there remained a little wailing infant, which Elsie +gathered to her bosom. + +Grim, dauntless, and resolute, she resolved, for the sake of this +hapless one, to look life in the face once more, and try the battle +under other skies. + +Taking the infant in her arms, she travelled with her far from the scene +of her birth, and set all her energies at work to make for her a better +destiny than that which had fallen to the lot of her unfortunate mother. + +She set about to create her nature and order her fortunes with that sort +of downright energy with which resolute people always attack the problem +of a new human existence. This child _should be happy_; the rocks on +which her mother was wrecked she should never strike upon,--they were +all marked on Elsie's chart. Love had been the root of all poor Isella's +troubles,--and Agnes never should know love, till taught it safely by a +husband of Elsie's own choosing. + +The first step of security was in naming her for the chaste Saint Agnes, +and placing her girlhood under her special protection. Secondly, which +was quite as much to the point, she brought her up laboriously in habits +of incessant industry,--never suffering her to be out of her sight, or +to have any connection or friendship, except such as could be carried on +under the immediate supervision of her piercing black eyes. Every night +she put her to bed as if she had been an infant, and, wakening her again +in the morning, took her with her in all her daily toils,--of which, to +do her justice, she performed all the hardest portion, leaving to the +girl just enough to keep her hands employed and her head steady. + +The peculiar circumstance which had led her to choose the old town +of Sorrento for her residence, in preference to any of the beautiful +villages which impearl that fertile plain, was the existence there of +a flourishing convent dedicated to Saint Agnes, under whose protecting +shadow her young charge might more securely spend the earlier years of +her life. + +With this view, having hired the domicile we have already described, +she lost no time in making the favorable acquaintance of the +sisterhood,--never coming to them empty-handed. The finest oranges of +her garden, the whitest flax of her spinning, were always reserved as +offerings at the shrine of the patroness whom she sought to propitiate +for her grandchild. + +In her earliest childhood the little Agnes was led toddling to the +shrine by her zealous relative; and at the sight of her fair, sweet, +awe-struck face, with its viny mantle of encircling curls, the torpid +bosoms of the sisterhood throbbed with a strange, new pleasure, which +they humbly hoped was not sinful,--as agreeable things, they found, +generally were. They loved the echoes of her little feet down the damp, +silent aisles of their chapel, and her small, sweet, slender voice, as +she asked strange baby-questions, which, as usual with baby-questions, +hit all the insoluble points of philosophy and theology exactly on the +head. + +The child became a special favorite with the Abbess, Sister Theresa, a +tall, thin, bloodless, sad-eyed woman, who looked as if she might have +been cut out of one of the glaciers of Monte Rosa, but in whose heart +the little fair one had made herself a niche, pushing her way up +through, as you may have seen a lovely blue-fringed gentian standing in +a snow-drift of the Alps with its little ring of melted snow around it. + +Sister Theresa offered to take care of the child at any time when the +grandmother wished to be about her labors; and so, during her early +years, the little one was often domesticated for days together at the +Convent. A perfect mythology of wonderful stories encircled her, which +the good sisters were never tired of repeating to each other. They +were the simplest sayings and doings of childhood,--handfuls of such +wild-flowers as bespread the green turf of nursery-life everywhere, but +miraculous blossoms in the eyes of these good women, whom Saint Agnes +had unwittingly deprived of any power of making comparisons or ever +having Christ's sweetest parable of the heavenly kingdom enacted in +homes of their own. + +Old Jocunda, the porteress, never failed to make a sensation with her +one stock-story of how she found the child standing on her head and +crying,--having been put into this reversed position in consequence of +climbing up on a high stool to get her little fat hand into the vase of +holy water, failing in which Christian attempt, her heels went up and +her head down, greatly to her dismay. + +"Nevertheless," said old Jocunda, gravely, "it showed an edifying turn +in the child; and when I lifted the little thing up, it stopped crying +the minute its little fingers touched the water, and it made a cross on +its forehead as sensible as the oldest among us. Ah, sisters! there's +grace there, or I'm mistaken." + +All the signs of an incipient saint were, indeed, manifested in the +little one. She never played the wild and noisy plays of common +children, but busied herself in making altars and shrines, which she +adorned with the prettiest flowers of the gardens, and at which she +worked hour after hour in the quietest and happiest earnestness. Her +dreams were a constant source of wonder and edification in the Convent, +for they were all of angels and saints; and many a time, after hearing +one, the sisterhood crossed themselves, and the Abbess said, _"Ex oribus +parvulorum."_ Always sweet, dutiful, submissive, cradling herself every +night with a lulling of sweet hymns and infant murmur of prayers, and +found sleeping in her little white bed with her crucifix clasped to her +bosom, it was no wonder that the Abbess thought her the special favorite +of her divine patroness, and, like her, the subject of an early vocation +to be the celestial bride of One fairer than the children of men, who +should snatch her away from all earthly things, to be united to Him in a +celestial paradise. + +As the child grew older, she often sat at evening, with wide, wondering +eyes, listening over and over again to the story of the fair Saint +Agnes:--How she was a princess, living in her father's palace, of such +exceeding beauty and grace that none saw her but to love her, yet of +such sweetness and humility as passed all comparison; and how, when a +heathen prince would have espoused her to his son, she said, "Away from +me, tempter! for I am betrothed to a lover who is greater and fairer +than any earthly suitor,--he is so fair that the sun and moon are +ravished by his beauty, so mighty that the angels of heaven are his +servants"; how she bore meekly with persecutions and threatenings and +death for the sake of this unearthly love; and when she had poured out +her blood, how she came to her mourning friends in ecstatic vision, all +white and glistening, with a fair lamb by her side, and bade them weep +not for her, because she was reigning with Him whom on earth she had +preferred to all other lovers. There was also the legend of the fair +Cecilia, the lovely musician whom angels had rapt away to their choirs; +the story of that queenly saint, Catharine, who passed through the +courts of heaven, and saw the angels crowned with roses and lilies, and +the Virgin on her throne, who gave her the wedding-ring that espoused +her to be the bride of the King Eternal. + +Fed with such legends, it could not be but that a child with a +sensitive, nervous organization and vivid imagination should have grown +up with an unworldly and spiritual character, and that a poetic mist +should have enveloped all her outward perceptions similar to that +palpitating veil of blue and lilac vapor that enshrouds the Italian +landscape. + +Nor is it to be marvelled at, if the results of this system of education +went far beyond what the good old grandmother intended. For, though a +stanch good Christian, after the manner of those times, yet she had not +the slightest mind to see her grand-daughter a nun; on the contrary, +she was working day and night to add to her dowry, and had in her eye +a reputable middle-aged blacksmith, who was a man of substance and +prudence, to be the husband and keeper of her precious treasure. In a +home thus established she hoped to enthrone herself, and provide for the +rearing of a generation of stout-limbed girls and boys who should grow +up to make a flourishing household in the land. This subject she had +not yet broached to her grand-daughter, though daily preparing to do +so,--deferring it, it must be told, from a sort of jealous, yearning +craving to have wholly to herself the child for whom she had lived so +many years. + +Antonio, the blacksmith to whom this honor was destined, was one of +those broad-backed, full-chested, long-limbed fellows one shall often +see around Sorrento, with great, kind, black eyes like those of an ox, +and all the attributes of a healthy, kindly, animal nature. Contentedly +he hammered away at his business; and certainly, had not Dame Elsie +of her own providence elected him to be the husband of her fair +grand-daughter, he would never have thought of the matter himself; but, +opening the black eyes aforenamed upon the girl, he perceived that she +was fair, and also received an inner light through Dame Elsie as to the +amount of her dowry; and, putting these matters together, conceived a +kindness for the maiden, and awaited with tranquillity the time when he +should be allowed to commence his wooing. + + + + +REST AND MOTION. + + +Motion and Rest are the two feet upon which existence goes. All action +and all definite power result from the intimacy and consent of these +opposite principles. If, therefore, one would construct any serviceable +mechanism, he must incorporate into it, and commonly in a manifold way, +a somewhat passive, a somewhat contrary, and, as it were, inimical to +action, though action be the sole aim and use of his contrivance. Thus, +the human body is penetrated by the passive and powerless skeleton, +which is a mere weight upon the muscles, a part of the burden that, +nevertheless, it enables them to bear. The lever of Archimedes would +push the planet aside, provided only it were supplied with its +indispensable complement, a fulcrum, or fixity: without this it will not +push a pin. The block of the pulley must have its permanent attachment; +the wheel of the locomotive engine requires beneath it the fixed rail; +the foot of the pedestrian, solid earth; the wing of the bird rests upon +the relatively stable air to support his body, and upon his body to gain +power over the air. Nor is it alone of operations mechanical that the +law holds good: it is universal; and its application to pure mental +action may be shown without difficulty. A single act of the mind is +represented by the formation of a simple sentence. The process consists, +first, in the mind's _fixing upon and resting in_ an object, which +thereby becomes the subject of the sentence; and, secondly, in +predication, which is movement, represented by the verb. The reader will +easily supply himself with instances and illustrations of this, and need +not, therefore, be detained. + +In the economy of animal and vegetable existence, as in all that Nature +makes, we observe the same inevitable association. Here is perpetual +fixity of form, perpetual flux of constituent,--the ideas of Nature +never changing, the material realization of them never ceasing to +change. A horse is a horse through all the ages; yet the horse of to-day +is changed from the horse of yesterday. + +If one of these principles seem to get the start, and to separate +itself, the other quickly follows. No sooner, for example, does any +person perform an initial deed, proceeding purely (let us suppose) from +free will, than Nature in him begins to repose therein, and consequently +inclines to its repetition for the mere reason that it has been once +done. This is Habit, which makes action passive, and is the greatest of +labor-saving inventions. Custom is the habit of society, holding the +same relation to progressive genius. It is the sleeping partner in the +great social firm; it is thought and force laid up and become +fixed capital. Annihilate this,--as in the French Revolution was +attempted,--and society is at once reduced to its bare immediate force, +and must scratch the soil with its fingers. + +Sometimes these principles seem to be strictly hostile to each other and +in no respect reciprocal, as where habit in the individual and custom in +society oppose themselves bitterly to free will and advancing thought: +yet even here the special warfare is but the material of a broader and +more subtile alliance. An obstinate fixity in one's bosom often serves +as a rock on which to break the shell of some hard inclosed faculty. +Upon stepping-stones of our _slain_ selves we mount to new altitudes. So +do the antagonisms of these principles in the broader field of society +equally conceal a fundamental reciprocation. By the opposition to +his thought of inert and defiant custom, the thinker is compelled to +interrogate his consciousness more deeply and sacredly; and being +cut off from that sympathy which has its foundation in similarity of +temperaments and traditions, he must fall back with simpler abandonment +upon the pure idea, and must seek responses from that absolute nature of +man which the men of his time are not human enough to afford him. This +absolute nature, this divine identity in man, underrunning times, +temperaments, individualities, is that which poet and prophet must +address: yet to speak _to_ it, they must speak _from_ it; to be heard +by the universal heart, they must use a universal language. But +this marvellous vernacular can be known to him alone whose heart is +universal, in whom even self-love is no longer selfish, but is a pure +respect to his own being as it is Being. Well it is, therefore, that +here and there one man should be so denied all petty and provincial +claim to attention, that only by speaking to Man as Man, and in the +sincerest vernacular of the human soul, he can find audience; for thus +it shall become his need, for the sake of joy no less than of duty, to +know himself purely as man, and to yield himself wholly to his immortal +humanity. Thus does fixed custom force back the most moving souls, until +they touch the springs of inspiration, and are indued with power: then, +at once potent and pure, they gush into history, to be influences, to +make epochs, and to prevail over that through whose agency they first +obtained strength. + +Thus, everywhere, through all realms, do the opposite principles of Rest +and Motion depend upon and reciprocally empower each other. In every +act, mechanical, mental, social, must both take part and consent +together; and upon the perfection of this consent depends the quality +of the action. Every progress is conditioned on a permanence; every +permanence _lives_ but in and through progress. Where all, and with +equal and simultaneous impulse, strives to move, nothing can move, but +chaos is come; where all refuses to move, and therefore stagnates, decay +supervenes, which is motion, though a motion downward. + +Having made this general statement, we proceed to say that there are two +chief ways in which these universal opposites enter into reciprocation. +The first and more obvious is the method of alternation, or of rest +_from_ motion; the other, that of continuous equality, which may be +called a rest _in_ motion. These two methods, however, are not mutually +exclusive, but may at once occupy the same ground, and apply to the same +objects,--as oxygen and nitrogen severally fill the same space, to the +full capacity of each, as though the other were absent. + +Instances of the alternation, either total or approximative, of these +principles are many and familiar. They may be seen in the systole and +diastole of the heart; in the alternate activity and passivity of the +lungs; in the feet of the pedestrian, one pausing while the other +proceeds; in the waving wings of birds; in the undulation of the sea; in +the creation and propagation of sound, and the propagation, at least, +of light; in the alternate acceleration and retardation of the earth's +motion in its orbit, and in the waving of its poles. In all vibrations +and undulations there is a going and returning, between which must exist +minute periods of repose; but in many instances the return is simply a +relaxation or a subsidence, and belongs, therefore, to the department of +rest. Discourse itself, it will be observed, has its pauses, seasons of +repose thickly interspersed in the action of speech; and besides these +has its accented and unaccented syllables, emphatic and unemphatic +words,--illustrating thus in itself the law which it here affirms. +History is full of the same thing; the tides of faith and feeling now +ascend and now subside, through all the ages, in the soul of humanity; +each new affirmation prepares the way for new doubt, each honest doubt +in the end furthers and enlarges belief; the pendulum of destiny swings +to and fro forever, and earth's minutest life and heaven's remotest star +swing with it, rising but to fall, and falling that they may rise again. +So does rhythm go to the very bottom of the world: the heart of Nature +pulses, and the echoing shore and all music and the throbbing heart and +swaying destinies of man but follow and proclaim the law of her inward +life. + +The universality and mutual relationship of these primal principles +have, perhaps, been sufficiently set forth; and this may be the place to +emphasize the second chief point,--that the perfection of this mutuality +measures the degree of excellence in all objects and actions. It +will everywhere appear, that, the more regular and symmetrical their +relationship, the more beautiful and acceptable are its results. For +example, sounds proceeding from vibrations wherein the strokes and +pauses are in invariable relation are such sounds as we denominate +_musical._ Accordingly all sounds are musical at a sufficient distance, +since the most irregular undulations are, in a long journey through the +air, wrought to an equality, and made subject to exact law,--as in +this universe all irregularities are sure to be in the end. Thus, the +thunder, which near at hand is a wild crash, or nearer yet a crazy +crackle, is by distance deepened and refined into that marvellous bass +which we all know. And doubtless the jars, the discords, and moral +contradictions of time, however harsh and crazy at the outset, flow +into exact undulation along the ether of eternity, and only as a pure +proclamation of law attain to the ear of Heaven. Nay, whoso among men is +able to plant his ear high enough above this rude clangor may, in like +manner, so hear it, that it shall be to him melody, solace, fruition, +a perpetual harvest of the heart's dearest wishes, a perpetual +corroboration of that which faith affirms. + +We may therefore easily understand why musical sounds _are_ musical, why +they are acceptable and moving, while those affront the sense in which +the minute reposes are capricious, and, as it were, upon ill terms with +the movements. The former appeal to what is most universal and cosmical +within us,--to the pure Law, the deep Nature in our breasts; they fall +in with the immortal rhythm of life itself, which the others encounter +and impugn. + +It will be seen also that verse differs from prose as musical sounds +from ordinary tones; and having so deep a ground in Nature, rhythmical +speech will be sure to continue, in spite of objection and protest, were +it, if possible, many times more energetic than that of Mr. Carlyle. But +always the best prose has a certain rhythmic emphasis and cadence: in +Milton's grander passages there is a symphony of organs, the bellows of +the mighty North (one might say) filling their pipes; Goldsmith's flute +still breathes through his essays; and in the ampler prose of Bacon +there is the swell of a summer ocean, and you can half fancy you hear +the long soft surge falling on the shore. Also in all good writing, +as in good reading, the pauses suffer no slight; they are treated +handsomely; and each sentence rounds gratefully and clearly into rest. +Sometimes, indeed, an attempt is made to react in an illegitimate way +this force of firm pauses, as in exaggerated French style, wherein the +writer seems never to stride or to run, but always to jump like a frog. + +Again, as reciprocal opposites, our two principles should be of equal +dignity and value. To concede, however, the equality of rest with motion +must, for an American, be not easy; and it is therefore in point to +assert and illustrate this in particular. What better method of doing so +than that of taking some one large instance in Nature, if such can +be found, and allowing this, after fair inspection, to stand for all +others? And, as it happens, just what we require is quite at hand;--the +alternation of Day and Night, of sleep and waking, is so broad, obvious, +and familiar, and so mingled with our human interests, that its two +terms are easily subjected to extended and clear comparison; while also +it deserves discussion upon its own account, apart from its relation to +the general subject. + +Sleep is now popularly known to be coextensive with Life,--inseparable +from vital existence of whatever grade. The rotation of the earth +is accordingly implied, as was happily suggested by Paley, in the +constitution of every animal and every plant. It is quite evident, +therefore, that this necessity was not laid upon, man through some +inadvertence of Nature; on the contrary, this arrangement must be such +as to her seemed altogether suitable, and, if suitable, economical. +Eager men, however, avaricious of performance, do not always regard it +with entire complacency. Especially have the saints been apt to set up +a controversy with Nature in this particular, submitting with infinite +unwillingness to the law by which they deem themselves, as it were, +defrauded of life and activity in so large measure. In form, to be +sure, their accusation lies solely against themselves; they reproach +themselves with sleeping beyond need, sleeping for the mere luxury and +delight of it; but the venial self-deception is quite obvious,--nothing +plainer than that it is their necessity itself which is repugnant to +them, and that their wills are blamed for not sufficiently withstanding +and thwarting it. Pious William Law, for example, is unable to disparage +sleep enough for his content. "The poorest, dullest refreshment of the +body," he calls it,... "such a dull, stupid state of existence, that +even among animals we despise them most which are most drowsy." +You should therefore, so he urges, "begin the day in the spirit of +renouncing sleep." Baxter, also,--at that moment a walking catalogue +and epitome of all diseases,--thought himself guilty for all sleep he +enjoyed beyond three hours a day. More's Utopians were to rise at very +early hours, and attend scientific lectures before breakfast. + +Ambition and cupidity, which, in their way, are no whit less earnest and +self-sacrificing than sanctity, equally look upon sleep as a wasteful +concession to bodily wants, and equally incline to limit such concession +to its mere minimum. Commonplaces accordingly are perpetually +circulating in the newspapers, especially in such as pretend to a +didactic tone, wherein all persons are exhorted to early rising, to +resolute abridgment of the hours of sleep, and the like. That Sir Walter +Raleigh slept but five hours in twenty-four; that John Hunter, Frederick +the Great, and Alexander von Humboldt slept but four; that the Duke of +Wellington made it an invariable rule to "turn out" whenever he felt +inclined to turn over, and John Wesley to arise upon his first awaking: +instances such as these appear on parade with the regularity of militia +troops at muster; and the precept duly follows,--"Whoso would not be +insignificant, let him go and do likewise." "All great men have been +early risers," says my newspaper. + +Of late, indeed, a better knowledge of the laws of health, or perhaps +only a keener sense of its value and its instability, begins to +supersede these rash inculcations; and paragraphs due to some discreet +Dr. Hall make the rounds of the press, in which we are reminded that +early rising, in order to prove a benefit, rather than a source of +mischief, must be duly matched with early going to bed. The one, we are +told, will by no means answer without the other. As yet, however, this +is urged upon hygienic grounds alone; it is a mere concession to the +body, a bald necessity that we hampered mortals lie under; which +necessity we are quite at liberty to regret and accuse, though we cannot +with safety resist it. Sleep is still admitted to be a waste of time, +though one with which Nature alone is chargeable. And I own, not without +reluctance, that the great authority of Plato can be pleaded for this +low view of its functions. In the "Laws" he enjoins a due measure +thereof, but for the sake of health alone, and adds, that the sleeper +is, for the time, of no more value than the dead. Clearly, mankind would +sustain some loss of good sense, were all the dullards and fat-wits +taken away; and Sancho Panza, with his hearty, "Blessings on the man +that invented sleep!" here ekes out the scant wisdom of sages. The +talking world, however, of our day takes part with the Athenian against +the Manchegan philosopher, and, while admitting the present necessity of +sleep, does not rejoice in its original invention. If, accordingly, in a +computation of the length of man's life, the hours passed in slumber are +carefully deducted, and considered as forming no part of available time, +not even the medical men dispute the justice of such procedure. They +have but this to say:--"The stream of life is not strong enough to keep +the mill of action always going; we must therefore periodically shut +down the gate and allow the waters to accumulate; and he ever loses more +than he gains who attempts any avoidance of this natural necessity." + +As medical men, they are not required, perhaps, to say more; and we will +be grateful to them for faithfully urging this,--especially when we +consider, that, under the sage arrangements now existing, all that the +physician does for the general promotion of health is done in defiance +of his own interests. We, however, have further questions to ask. Why is +not the life-stream more affluent? Sleep _is_ needful,--but _wherefore_? +The physician vindicates the sleeper; but the philosopher must vindicate +Nature. + +It is surely one step toward an elucidation of this matter to observe +that the necessity here accused is not one arbitrarily laid upon us _by_ +Nature, but one existing _in_ Nature herself, and appertaining to the +very conception of existence. The elucidation, however, need not pause +at this point. The assumption that sleep is a piece of waste, as being a +mere restorative for the body, and not a service or furtherance to the +mind,--this must be called in question and examined closely; for it is +precisely in this assumption, as I deem, that the popular judgment goes +astray. _Is_ sleep any such arrest and detention of the mind? That it is +a shutting of those outward gates by which impressions flow in upon the +soul is sufficiently obvious; but who can assure us that it is equally +a closing of those inward and skyward gates through which come +the reinforcements of faculty, the strength that masters and uses +impression? I persuade myself, on the contrary, that it is what Homer +called it, _divine_,--able, indeed, to bring the blessing of a god; and +that hours lawfully passed under the pressure of its heavenly palms are +fruitful, not merely negatively, but positively, not only as recruiting +exhausted powers, and enabling us to be awake again, but by direct +contribution to the resources of the soul and the uses of life; that, in +fine, one awakes farther on in _life_, as well as farther on in _time_, +than he was at falling asleep. This deeper function of the night, what +is it? + +Sleep is, first of all, a filter, or sieve. It strains off the +impressions that engross, but not enrich us,--that superfluous +_material_ of experience which, either from glutting excess, or from +sheer insignificance, cannot be spiritualized, made human, transmuted +into experience itself. Every man in our day, according to the measure +of his sensibility, and with some respect also to his position, is +_mobbed_ by impressions, and must fight as for his life, if he escape +being taken utterly captive by them. It is our perpetual peril that +our lives shall become so sentient as no longer to be reflective or +artistic,--so beset and infested by the immediate as to lose all +amplitude, all perspective, and to become mere puppets of the present, +mere Chinese pictures, a huddle of foreground without horizon, or +heaven, or even earthly depth and reach. It is easy to illustrate this +miserable possibility. A man, for example, in the act of submitting +to the extraction of a tooth, is, while the process lasts, one of the +poorest poor creatures with whose existence the world might be taunted. +His existence is but skin-deep, and contracted to a mere point at that: +no vision and faculty divine, no thoughts that wander through eternity, +now: a tooth, a jaw, and the iron of the dentist,--these constitute, for +the time being, his universe. Only when this monopolizing, enslaving, +sensualizing impression has gone by, may what had been a point of pained +and quivering animality expand once more to the dimensions of a human +soul. Kant, it is said, could withdraw his attention from the pain of +gout by pure mental engagement, but found the effort dangerous to +his brain, and accordingly was fain to submit, and be no more than +a toe-joint, since evil fate would have it so. These extreme cases +exemplify a process of impoverishment from which we all daily suffer. +The external, the immediate, the idiots of the moment, telling tales +that signify nothing, yet that so overcry the suggestion of our deeper +life as by the sad and weary to be mistaken for the discourse of life +itself,--these obtrude themselves upon us, and multiply and brag and +brawl about us, until we have neither room for better guests, nor +spirits for their entertainment. We are like schoolboys with eyes out at +the windows, drawn by some rattle of drum and squeak of fife, who would +study, were they but deaf. Reproach sleep as a waste, forsooth! It is +this tyrannical attraction to the surface, that indeed robs us of time, +and defrauds us of the uses of life. We cannot hear the gods for the +buzzing of flies. We are driven to an idle industry,--the idlest of all +things. + +And to this description of loss men are nowadays peculiarly exposed. +The modern world is all battle-field; the smoke, the dust, the din fill +every eye and ear; and the hill-top of Lucretius, where is it? The +indispensable, terrible newspaper, with its late allies, the Titans and +sprites of steam and electricity,--bringing to each retired nook, +and thrusting in upon each otherwise peaceful household, the crimes, +follies, fears, solicitudes, doubts, problems of all kingdoms and +peoples,--exasperates the former Scotch mist of impressions into a +flooding rain, and almost threatens to swamp the brain of mankind. The +incitement to thought is ever greater; but the possibility of thinking, +especially of thinking in a deep, simple, central way, is ever less. +Problems multiply, but how to attend to them is ever a still greater +problem. Guests of the intellect and imagination accumulate until the +master of the house is pushed out of doors, and hospitality ceases from +the mere excess of its occasion. That must be a greater than Homer who +should now do Homer's work. He, there in his sweet, deep-skied Ionia, +privileged with an experience so simple and yet so salient and powerful, +might well hope to act upon this victoriously by his spirit, might hope +to transmute it, as indeed he did, into melodious and enduring human +suggestion. Would it have been all the same, had he lived in our +type-setting modern world, with its multitudinous knowledges, its +aroused conscience, its spurred and yet thwarted sympathies, its new +incitements to egotism also, and new tools and appliances for egotism +to use,--placed, as it were, in the focus of a vast whispering-gallery, +where all the sounds of heaven and earth came crowding, contending, +incessant upon his ear? One sees at a glance how the serious thought and +poetry of Greece cling to a few master facts, not being compelled to +fight always with the many-headed monster of detail; and this suggests +to me that our literature may fall short of Grecian amplitude, depth, +and simplicity, not wholly from inferiority of power, but from +complications appertaining to our position. + +The problem of our time is, How to digest and assimilate the Newspaper? +To complain of it, to desire its abolition, is an anachronism of the +will: it is to complain that time proceeds, and that events follow each +other in due sequence. It is hardly too bold to say that the newspaper +_is_ the modern world, as distinct from the antique and the mediaeval. +It represents, by its advent, that epoch in human history wherein +each man must begin, in proportion to his capability of sympathy and +consideration, to collate his private thoughts, fortunes, interests with +those of the human race at large. We are now in the crude openings of +this epoch, fevered by its incidents and demands; and one of its tokens +is a general exhaustion of the nervous system and failure of health, +both here and in Europe,--those of most sensitive spirit, and least +retired and sheltered from the impressions of the time, suffering most. +All this will end, _must_ end, victoriously. In the mean time can we not +somewhat adjust ourselves to this new condition? + +One thing we can and must not fail to do: we can learn to understand and +appreciate Rest. In particular, we should build up and reinforce the +powers of the night to offset this new intensity of the day. Such, +indeed, as the day now is has it ever been, though in a less degree: +always it has cast upon men impressions significant, insignificant, and +of an ill significance, promiscuously and in excess; and always sleep +has been the filter of memory, the purifier of experience, providing a +season that follows closely upon the impressions of the day, ere yet +they are too deeply imbedded, in which our deeper life may pluck away +the adhering burrs from its garments, and arise disburdened, clean, and +free. I make no doubt that Death also performs, though in an ampler and +more thorough way, the same functions. It opposes the tyranny of memory. +For were our experience to go on forever accumulating, unwinnowed, +undiminished, every man would sooner or later break down beneath it; +every man would be crushed by his own traditions, becoming a grave to +himself, and drawing the clods over his own head. To relieve us of these +accidental accretions, to give us back to ourselves, is the use, +in part, of that sleep which rounds each day, and of that other +sleep--brief, but how deep!--which rounds each human life. + +Accordingly, he who sleeps well need not die so soon,--even as in the +order of Nature he will not. He has that other and rarer half of a good +memory, namely, a good forgetting. For none remembers so ill as he that +remembers all. "A great German scholar affirmed that he knew not what +it was to forget." Better have been born an idiot! An unwashed +memory,--faugh! To us moderns and Americans, therefore, who need +above all things to forget well,--our one imperative want being a +simplification of experience,--to us, more than to all other men, is +requisite, in large measure of benefit, the winnowing-fan of sleep, +sleep with its choices and exclusions, if we would not need the offices +of death too soon. + +But a function of yet greater depth and moment remains to be indicated. +Sleep enables the soul not only to shed away that which is foreign, +but to adopt and assimilate whatever is properly its own. Dr. Edward +Johnson, a man of considerable penetration, though not, perhaps, of a +balanced judgment, has a dictum to the effect that the formation of +blood goes on during our waking hours, but the composition of tissue +during those of sleep. I know not upon what grounds of evidence +this statement is made; but one persuades himself that it must be +approximately true of the body, since it is undoubtedly so of the soul. +Under the eye of the sun the fluid elements of character are supplied; +but the final edification takes place beneath the stars. Awake, we +think, feel, act; sleeping, we _become_. Day feeds our consciousness; +night, out of those stores which action has accumulated, nourishes the +vital unconsciousness, the pure unit of the man. During sleep, the valid +and serviceable experience of the day is drawn inward, wrought upon by +spiritual catalysis, transmitted into conviction, sentiment, character, +life, and made part of that which is to attract and assimilate all +subsequent experience. Who, accordingly, has not awaked to find some +problem already solved with which he had vainly grappled on the +preceding day? It is not merely that in the morning our invigorated +powers work more efficiently, and enable us to reach this solution +immediately _after_ awaking. Often, indeed, this occurs; but there are +also numerous instances--and such alone are in point--wherein the work +is complete _before_ one's awakening: not unfrequently it is by the +energy itself of the new perception that the soft bonds of slumber are +first broken; the soul hails its new dawn with so lusty a cheer, +that its clarion reaches even to the ear of the body, and we are +unconsciously murmuring the echoes of that joyous salute while yet the +iris-hued fragments of our dreams linger about us. The poet in the +morning, if true divine slumber have been vouchsafed him, finds his +mind enriched with sweeter imaginations, the thinker with profounder +principles and wider categories: neither begins the new day where +he left the old, but each during his rest has silently, wondrously, +advanced to fresh positions, commanding the world now from nobler +summits, and beholding around him an horizon beyond that over which +yesterday's sun rose and set. Milton gives us testimony very much in +point:-- + + "My celestial patroness, who deigns + Her nightly visitation unimplored, + And dictates to me slumb'ring." + +Thus, in one important sense, is day the servant of night, action the +minister of rest. I fancy, accordingly, that Marcus Antoninus may give +Heraclitus credit for less than his full meaning in saying that "men +asleep are then also laboring"; for he understands him to signify only +that through such the universe is still accomplishing its ends. Perhaps +he meant to indicate what has been here affirmed,--that in sleep one's +personal destiny is still ripening, his true life proceeding. + +But if, as the instance which has been under consideration suggests, +these two principles are of equal dignity, it will follow that the +ability to rest profoundly is of no less estimation than the ability to +work powerfully. Indeed, is it not often the condition upon which great +and sustained power of action depends? The medal must have two sides. +"Danton," says Carlyle, "was a great nature that could rest." Were not +the force and terror of his performance the obverse fact? I do not +now mean, however true it would be, to say that without rest physical +resources would fail, and action be enfeebled in consequence; I mean +that the soul which wants the attitude of repose wants the condition of +power. There is a petulant and meddlesome industry which proceeds from +spiritual debility, and causes more; it is like the sleeplessness and +tossing of exhausted nervous patients, which arises from weakness, and +aggravates its occasion. As few things are equally wearisome, so few are +equally wasteful, with a perpetual indistinct sputter of action, whereby +nothing is done and nothing let alone. Half the world _breaks_ out with +action; its performance is cutaneous, of the nature of tetter. Hence is +it that in the world, with such a noise of building, so few edifices are +reared. + +We require it as a pledge of the sanity of our condition, and consequent +wholesomeness of our action, that we can withhold our hand, and +leave the world in that of its Maker. No man is quite necessary to +Omnipotence; grass grew before we were born, and doubtless will continue +to grow when we are dead. If we act, let it be because our soul has +somewhat to bring forth, and not because our fingers itch. We have in +these days been emphatically instructed that all speech not rooted in +silence, rooted, that is, in pure, vital, silent Nature, is +poor and unworthy; but we should be aware that action equally +requires this solemn and celestial perspective, this issue out of the +never-trodden, noiseless realms of the soul. Only that which comes from +a divine depth can attain to a divine height. + +There is a courage of withholding and forbearing greater than any other +courage; and before this Fate itself succumbs. Wellington won the +Battle of Waterloo by heroically standing still; and every hour of that +adventurous waiting was heaping up significance for the moment when at +length he should cry, "Up, Guards, and at them !" What Cecil said of +Raleigh, "He can toil terribly," has been styled "an electric touch"; +but the "masterly inactivity" of Sir James Mackintosh, happily +appropriated by Mr. Calhoun, carries an equal appeal to intuitive sense, +and has already become proverbial. He is no sufficient hero who in the +delays of Destiny, when his way is hedged up and his hope deferred, +cannot reserve his strength and bide his time. The power of acting +greatly includes that of greatly abstaining from action. The leader of +an epoch in affairs should therefore be some Alfred, Bruce, Gustavus +Vasa, Cromwell, Washington, Garibaldi, who can wait while the iron of +opportunity heats at the forge of time; and then, in the moment of its +white glow, can so smite as to shape it forever to the uses of mankind. + +One should be able not only to wait, but to wait strenuously, sternly, +immovably, rooted in his repose like a mountain oak in the soil; for +it may easily happen that the necessity of refraining shall be most +imperative precisely when, the external pressure toward action is most +vehement. Amid the violent urgency of events, therefore, one should +learn the art of the mariner, who, in time of storm lies to, with sails +mostly furled, until milder gales permit him again to spread sail +and stretch away. With us, as with him, even a fair wind may blow so +fiercely that one cannot safely run before it. There are movements with +whose direction we sympathize, which are yet so ungoverned that we lose +our freedom and the use of our reason in committing ourselves to +them. So the seaman who runs too long before the increasing gale has +thereafter no election; go on he must, for there is death in pausing, +though it be also death to proceed. Learn, therefore, to wait. Is there +not many a one who never arrives at fruit, for no better reason than +that he persists in plucking his own blossoms? Learn to wait. Take time, +with the smith, to raise your arm, if you would deliver a telling blow. + +Does it seem wasteful, this waiting? Let us, then, remind ourselves that +excess and precipitation are more than wasteful,--they are directly +destructive. The fire that blazes beyond bounds not warms the house, +but burns it down, and only helps infinitesimally to warm the wide +out-of-doors. Any live snail will out-travel a wrecked locomotive, and +besides will leave no trail of slaughter on its track. Though despatch +be the soul of business, yet he who outruns his own feet comes to the +ground, and makes no despatch,--unless it be of himself. Hurry is the +spouse of Flurry, and the father of Confusion. Extremes meet, and +overaction steadfastly returns to the effect of non-action,--bringing, +however, the seven devils of disaster in its company. The ocean storm +which heaps the waves so high may, by a sufficient increase, blow them +down again; and in no calm is the sea so level as in the extremest +hurricane. + +Persistent excess of outward performance works mischief in one of two +directions,--either upon the body or on the soul. If one will not +accommodate himself to this unreasonable quantity by abatement of +quality,--if he be resolute to put love, faith, and imagination into +his labor, and to be alive to the very top of his brain,--then the body +enters a protest, and dyspepsia, palsy, phthisis, insanity, or somewhat +of the kind, ensues. Commonly, however, the tragedy is different from +this, and deeper. Commonly, in these cases, action loses height as it +gains lateral surface; the superior faculties starve, being robbed of +sustenance by this avarice of performance, and consequently of supply, +on the part of the lower,--they sit at second table, and eat of +remainder-crumbs. The delicate and divine sprites, that should bear the +behests of the soul to the will and to the houses of thought in the +brain her intuitions, are crowded out from the streets of the cerebral +cities by the mob and trample of messengers bound upon baser errands; +and thus is the soul deprived of service, and the man of inspiration. +The man becomes, accordingly, a great merchant who values a cent, but +does not value a human sentiment; or a lawyer who can convince a jury +that white is black, but cannot convince himself that white is white, +God God, and the sustaining faiths of great souls more than moonshine. +So if the apple-tree will make too much wood, it can bear no fruit; +during summer it is full of haughty thrift, but the autumn, which brings +grace to so many a dwarfed bush and low shrub, shows it naked and in +shame. + +How many mistake the crowing of the cock for the rising of the sun, +albeit the cock often crows at midnight, or at the moon's rising, or +only at the advent of a lantern and a tallow candle! And yet what +a bloated, gluttonous devourer of hopes and labors is this same +precipitation! All shores are strown with wrecks of barks that went too +soon to sea. And if you launch even your well-built ship at half-tide, +what will it do but strike bottom, and stick there? The perpetual +tragedy of literary history, in especial, is this. What numbers of young +men, gifted with great imitative quickness, who, having, by virtue of +this, arrived at fine words and figures of speech, set off on their +nimble rhetorical Pegasus, keep well out of the Muse's reach ever +after! How many go conspicuously through life, snapping their smart +percussion-caps upon empty barrels, because, forsooth, powder and ball +do not come of themselves, and it takes time to load! + +I know that there is a divine impatience, a rising of the waters of love +and noble pain till they _must_ overflow, with or without the hope of +immediate apparent use, and no matter what swords and revenges impend. +History records a few such defeats which are worth thousands of ordinary +victories. Yet the rule is, that precipitation comes of levity. +Eagerness is shallow. Haste is but half-earnest. If an apple is found +to grow mellow and seemingly ripe much before its fellows on the same +bough, you will probably discover, upon close inspection, that there is +a worm in it. + +To be sure, any time is too soon with those who dote upon Never. There +are such as find Nature precipitate and God forward. They would have +effect limp at untraversable distances behind cause; they would keep +destiny carefully abed and feed it upon spoon-victual. They play duenna +to the universe, and are perpetually on the _qui vive_, lest it escape, +despite their care, into improprieties. The year is with them too fast +by so much as it removes itself from the old almanac. The reason is that +_they_ are the old almanac. Or, more distinctly, they are at odds with +universal law, and, knowing that to them it can come only as judgment +and doom, they, not daring to denounce the law itself, fall to the trick +of denouncing its agents as visionaries, and its effects as premature. +The felon always finds the present an unseasonable day on which to be +hanged: the sheriff takes another view of the matter. + +But the error of these consists, not in realizing good purposes too +slowly and patiently, but in failing effectually to purpose good at +all. To those who truly are making it the business of their lives to +accomplish worthy aims, this counsel cannot come amiss,--TAKE TIME. +Take a year in which to thread a needle, rather than go dabbing at the +texture with the naked thread. And observe, that there is an excellence +and an efficacy of slowness, no less than of quickness. The armadillo +is equally secure of his prey with the hawk or leopard; and Sir Charles +Bell mentions a class of thieves in India, who, having, through +extreme patience and command of nerve, acquired the power of motion +imperceptibly slow, are the most formidable of all peculators, and +almost defy precaution. And to leave these low instances, slowness +produced by profoundness of feeling and fineness of perception +constitutes that divine patience of genius without which genius does not +exist. Mind lingers where appetite hurries on; it is only the Newtons +who stay to meditate over the fall of an apple, too trivial for the +attention of the clown. It is by this noble slowness that the highest +minds faintly emulate that inconceivable deliberateness and delicacy of +gradation with which solar systems are built and worlds habilitated. + +Now haste and intemperance are the Satans that beset virtuous Americans. +And these mischiefs are furthered by those who should guard others +against them. The Rev. Dr. John Todd, in a work, not destitute of merit, +entitled "The Student's Manual," urges those whom he addresses to study, +while about it, with their utmost might, crowding into an hour as much +work as it can possibly be made to contain; so, he says, they will +increase the power of the brain. But this is advice not fit to be given +to a horse, much less to candidates for the graces of scholarly manhood. +I read that race-horses, during the intervals between their public +contests, are permitted only occasionally and rarely to be driven at +their extreme speed, but are assiduously made to _walk_ several hours +each day. By this constancy of _moderate_ exercise they preserve health +and suppleness of limb, without exhaustion of strength. And it appears, +that, were such an animal never to be taken from the stable but to be +pushed to the top of his speed, he would be sure to make still greater +speed toward ruin. Why not be as wise for men as for horses? + +And here I desire to lay stress upon one point, which American students +will do well to consider gravely,--_It is a_ PURE, _not a strained and +excited, attention which has signal prosperity._ Distractions, tempests, +and head-winds in the brain, by-ends, the sidelong eyes of vanity, the +overleaping eyes of ambition, the bleared eyes of conceit,--these are +they which thwart study and bring it to nought. Nor these only, but all +impatience, all violent eagerness, all passionate and perturbed feeling, +fill the brain with thick and hot blood, suited to the service of +desire, unfit for the uses of thought. Intellect can be served only by +the finest properties of the blood; and if there be any indocility +of soul, any impurity of purpose, any coldness or carelessness, any +prurience or crude and intemperate heat, then base spirits are sent down +from the seat of the soul to summon the sanguineous forces; and these +gather a crew after their own kind. Purity of attention, then, is the +magic that the scholar may use; and let him know, that, the purer it is, +the more temperate, tranquil, reposeful. Truth is not to be run down +with fox-hounds; she is a divinity, and divinely must he draw nigh who +will gain her presence. Go to, thou bluster-brain! Dost thou think to +learn? Learn docility first, and the manners of the skies. And thou +egotist, thinkest thou that these eyes of thine, smoky with the fires of +diseased self-love, and thronged with deceiving wishes, shall perceive +the essential and eternal? They shall see only silver and gold, houses +and lands, reputes, supremacies, fames, and, as instrumental to these, +the forms of logic and seemings of knowledge. If thou wilt discern the +truth, desire IT, not its accidents and collateral effects. Rest in the +pursuit of it, putting _simplicity of quest_ in the place of either +force or wile; and such quest cannot be unfruitful. + +Let the student, then, shun an excited and spasmodic tension of brain, +and he will gain more while expending less. It is not toil, it is morbid +excitement, that kills; and morbid excitement in constant connection +with high mental endeavor is, of all modes and associations of +excitement, the most disastrous. Study as the grass grows, and your old +age--and its laurels--shall be green. + +Already, however, we are trenching upon that more intimate relationship +of the great opposites under consideration which has been designated +Rest _in_ Motion. More intimate relationship, I say,--at any rate, +more subtile, recondite, difficult of apprehension and exposition, and +perhaps, by reason of this, more central and suggestive. An example +of this in its physical aspect may be seen in the revolutions of the +planets, and in all orbital or circular motion. For such, it will be +at once perceived, is, in strictness of speech, _fixed and stationary_ +motion: it is, as Sir Isaac Newton demonstrated, an exact and equal +obedience, in the same moment, to the law of fixity and the law of +progression. Observe especially, that it is not, like merely retarded +motion, a partial neutralization of each principle by the other, an +imbecile Aristotelian compromise and half-way house between the two; +but it is at once, and in virtue of the same fact, perfect Rest _and_ +perfect Motion. A revolving body is not hindered, but the same impulse +which begot its movement causes this perpetually to return into itself. + +Now the principles that are seen to govern the material universe are +but a large-lettered display of those that rule in perfect humanity. +Whatsoever makes distinguished order and admirableness in Nature makes +the same in man; and never was there a fine deed that was not begot of +the same impulse and ruled by the same laws to which solar systems are +due. I desire, accordingly, here to take up and emphasize the statement +previously made in a general way,--that the secret of perfection in +all that appertains to man--in morals, manners, art, politics--must +be sought in such a correspondence and reciprocation of these great +opposites as the motions of the planets perfectly exemplify. + +It must not, indeed, be overlooked or unacknowledged, that the planets +do not move in exact circles, but diverge slightly into ellipses. The +fact is by no means without significance, and that of an important kind. +Pure circular motion is the type of perfection in the universe as +a _whole_, but each part of the whole will inevitably express its +partiality, will acknowledge its special character, and upon the +frankness of this confession its comeliness will in no small degree +depend; nevertheless, no sooner does the eccentricity, or individuality, +become so great as to suggest disloyalty to the idea of the whole, +than ugliness ensues. Thus, comets are portents, shaking the faith of +nations, not supporting it, like the stars. So among men. Nature is +at pains to secure divergence, magnetic variation, putting into every +personality and every powerful action some element of irregularity +and imperfection; and her reason for doing so is, that irregularity +appertains to the state of growth, and is the avenue of access to higher +planes and broader sympathies; still, as the planets, though not moving +in perfect circles, yet come faithfully round to the same places, and +accomplish _the ends_ of circular motion, so in man, the divergence must +be special, not total, no act being the mere arc of a circle, and yet +_revolution_ being maintained. And to the beauty of characters and +deeds, it is requisite that they should never seem even to imperil +fealty to the universal idea. Revolution perfectly exact expresses only +necessity, not voluntary fidelity; but departure, _still deferential to +the law of the whole_, in evincing freedom elevates its obedience +into fealty and noble faithfulness: by this measure of eccentricity, +centricity is not only emphasized, but immeasurably exalted. + +But having made this full and willing concession to the element of +individuality in persons and of special character in actions, we are at +liberty to resume the general thesis,--that orbital rest of movement +furnishes the type of perfect excellence, and suggests accordingly the +proper targe of aspiration and culture. + +In applying this law, we will take first a low instance, wherein the +opposite principles stand apart, rather upon terms of outward covenant, +or of mere mixture, than of mutual assimilation. _Man_ is infinite; +_men_ are finite: the purest aspect of great laws never appears in +collections and aggregations, yet the same laws rule here as in the +soul, and such excellence as is possible issues from the same sources. +As an instance, accordingly, of that ruder reciprocation which may +obtain among multitudes, I name the Roman Legion. + +It is said that the success of the armies of Rome is not fully accounted +for, until one takes into account the constitution of this military +body. It united, in an incomparable degree, the different advantages +of fixity and fluency. Moderate in size, yet large enough to give the +effect of mass, open in texture, yet compact in form, it afforded to +every man room for individual prowess, while it left no man to his +individual strength. Each soldier leaned and rested upon the Legion, +a body of six thousand men; yet around each was a space in which his +movements might be almost as free, rapid, and individual as though he +had possessed the entire field to himself. The Macedonian Phalanx was a +marvel of mass, but it was mass not penetrated with mobility; it could +move, indeed could be said to have an existence, only as a whole; +its decomposed parts were but _débris_. The Phalanx, therefore, was +terrible, the constituent parts of it imbecile; and the Battle of +Cynocephalae finally demonstrated its inferiority, for the various +possible exigencies of battle, to the conquering Legion. The brave +rabble of Gauls and Goths, on the other hand, illustrated all that +private valor, not reposing upon any vaster and more stable strength, +has power to achieve; but these rushing torrents of prowess dashed +themselves into vain spray upon the coordinated and reposing courage of +Rome. + +The same perpetual opposites must concur to produce the proper form and +uses of the State,--though they here appear in a much more elevated +form. Rest is here known as _Law_, motion as _Liberty_. In the true +commonwealth, these, so far from being mutually destructive or +antagonistic, incessantly beget and vivify each other; so that Law +is the expression and guaranty of Freedom, while Freedom flows +spontaneously into the forms of Justice. Neither of these can exist, +neither can be properly _conceived of_, apart from its correlative +opposite. Nor will any condition of mere truce, or of mere mechanical +equilibrium, suffice. Nothing suffices but a reciprocation so active and +total that each is constantly resolving itself into the other. + +The notion of Rousseau, which is countenanced by much of the +phraseology, to say the least, of the present day, was, indeed, quite +contrary to this. He assumed freedom to exist only where law is not, +that is, in the savage state, and to be surrendered, piece for piece, +with every acknowledgment of social obligation. Seldom was ever so +plausible a doctrine equally false. Law is properly _the public +definition of freedom and the affirmation of its sacredness and +inviolability as so defined_; and only in the presence of it, either +express or implicit, does man become free. Duty and privilege are one +and the same, however men may set up a false antagonism between them; +and accordingly social obligation can subtract nothing from the +privilege and prerogative of liberty. Consequently, the freedom which is +defined as the negation of social duty and obligation is not true regal +freedom, but is that worst and basest of all tyrannies, the tyranny of +pure egotism, masked in the semblance of its divine contrary. That, +be it observed, is the freest society, in which the noblest and most +delicate human powers find room and secure respect,--wherein the +loftiest and costliest spiritualities are most invited abroad by +sympathetic attraction. Now among savages little obtains appreciation, +save physical force and its immediate allies: the divine fledglings of +the human soul, instead of being sweetly drawn and tempted forth, are +savagely menaced, rudely repelled; whatsoever is finest in the man, +together with the entire nature of woman, lies, in that low temperature, +enchained and repressed, like seeds in a frozen soil. The harsh, +perpetual contest with want and lawless rivalry, to which all +uncivilized nations are doomed, permits only a few low powers, and those +much the same in all,--lichens, mosses, rude grasses, and other coarse +cryptogamous growths,--to develop themselves; since these alone can +endure the severities of season and treatment to which all that would +clothe the fields of the soul must remain exposed. Meanwhile the utmost +of that wicked and calamitous suppression of faculty, which constitutes +the essence and makes the tragedy of human slavery, is equally effected +by the inevitable isolation and wakeful trampling and consequent +barrenness of savage life. Liberty without law is not liberty; and the +converse may be asserted with like confidence. + +Where, then, the fixed term, State, or Law, and the progressive term, +Person, or Freewill, are in relations of reciprocal support and mutual +reproduction, there alone is freedom, there alone public order. We were +able to command this truth from the height of our general proposition, +and closer inspection shows those anticipations to have been correct. + +But man is greater than men; and for the finest aspect of high laws, we +must look to individual souls, not to masses. + +What is the secret of noble manners? Orbital action, always returning +into and compensating itself. The gentleman, in offering his respect to +others, offers an equal, or rather the same, respect to himself; and his +courtesies may flow without stint or jealous reckoning, because they +feed their source, being not an expenditure, but a circulation. +Submitting to the inward law of honor and the free sense of what befits +a man,--to a law perpetually made and spontaneously executed in his +own bosom, the instant flowering of his own soul,--he commands his own +obedience, and he obeys his own commanding. Though throned above all +nations, a king of kings, yet the faithful humble vassal of his own +heart; though he serve, yet regal, doing imperial service; he escapes +outward constraint by inward anticipation; and all that could he rightly +named as his duty to others, he has, ere demand, already discovered, and +engaged in, as part of his duty to himself. Now it is the expression of +royal freedom in loyal service, of sovereignty in obedience, courage in +concession, and strength in forbearance, which makes manners noble. Low +may he bow, not with loss, but with access of dignity, who bows with an +elevated and ascending heart: there is nothing loftier, nothing less +allied to abject behavior, than this grand lowliness. The worm, because +it is low, cannot be lowly; but man, uplifted in token of supremacy, may +kneel in adoration, bend in courtesy, and stoop in condescension. Only a +great pride, that is, a great and reverential repose in one's own being, +renders possible a noble humility, which is a great and reverential +acknowledgment of the being of others; this humility in turn sustains a +higher self-reverence; this again resolves itself into a more majestic +humility; and so run, in ever enhancing wave, the great circles of +inward honor and outward grace. And without this self-sustaining +return of the action into itself, each quality feeding itself from its +correlative opposite, there can be no high behavior. This is the reason +why qualities loftiest in kind and largest in measure are vulgarly +mistaken, not for their friendly opposites, but for their mere +contraries,--why a very profound sensibility, a sensibility, too, +peculiarly of the spirit, not of nerve only, is sure to be named +coldness, as Mr. Ruskin recently remarks,--why vast wealth of good +pride, in its often meek acceptance of wrong, in its quiet ignoring +of insult, in its silent superiority to provocation, passes with +the superficial and petulant for poverty of pride and mere +mean-spiritedness,--why a courage which is not partial, but _total_, +coexisting, as it always does, with a noble peacefulness, with a noble +inaptness for frivolous hazards, and a noble slowness to take offence, +is, in its delays and forbearances, thought by the half-courageous to +be no better than cowardice;--it is, as we have said, because great +qualities revolve and repose in orbits of reciprocation with their +opposites, which opposites are by coarse and ungentle eyes misdeemed to +be contraries. Feeling transcendently deep and powerful is unimpassioned +and far lower-voiced than indifference and unfeelingness, being wont +to express itself, not by eloquent ebullition, but by extreme +understatement, or even by total silence. Sir Walter Raleigh, when at +length he found himself betrayed to death--and how basely betrayed!--by +Sir Lewis Stukely, only said, "Sir Lewis, these actions will not turn to +your credit." The New Testament tells us of a betrayal yet more quietly +received. These are instances of noble manners. + +What actions are absolutely moral is determined by application of the +same law,--those only which repose wholly in themselves, being to +themselves at once motive and reward. "Miserable is he," says the +"Bhagavad Gita," "whose motive to action lies, not in the action itself, +but in its reward." Duty purchased with covenant of special delights is +not duty, but is the most pointed possible denial of it. The just man +looks not beyond justice; the merciful reposes in acts of mercy; and +he who would be bribed to equity and goodness is not only bad, but +shameless. But of this no further words. + +Rest is sacred, celestial, and the appreciation of it and longing for +it are mingled with the religious sentiment of all nations. I cannot +remember the time when there was not to me a certain ineffable +suggestion in the apostolic words, "There remaineth, therefore, a rest +for the people of God." But the repose of the godlike must, as that of +God himself, be _infinitely_ removed from mere sluggish inactivity; +since the conception of action is the conception of existence +itself,--that is, of Being in the act of self-manifestation. Celestial +rest is found in action so universal, so purely identical with the great +circulations of Nature, that, like the circulation of the blood and the +act of breathing, it is not a subtraction from vital resource, but is, +on the contrary, part of the very fact of life and all its felicities. +This does not exclude rhythmic or recreative rest; but the need of such +rest detracts nothing from pleasure or perfection. In heaven also, if +such figure of speech be allowable, may be that toil which shall render +grateful the cessation from toil, and give sweetness to sleep; but right +weariness has its own peculiar delight, no less than right exercise; +and as the glories of sunset equal those of dawn, so with equal, though +diverse pleasure, should noble and temperate labor take off its sandals +for evening repose, and put them on to go forth "beneath the opening +eyelids of the morn." Yet, allowing a place for this rhythm in the +detail and close inspection even of heavenly life, it still holds true +on the broad scale, that pure beauty and beatitude are found there only +where life and character sweep in orbits of that complete expression +which is at once divine labor and divine repose. + +Observe, now, that this rest-motion, as being without waste or loss, is +a _manifested immortality_, since that which wastes not ends not; and +therefore it puts into every motion the very character and suggestion of +immortal life. Yea, one deed rightly done, and the doer is in heaven, +--is of the company of immortals. One deed so done that in it is _no_ +mortality; and in that deed the meaning of man's history,--the meaning, +indeed, and the glory, of existence itself,--are declared. Easy, +therefore, it is to see how any action may be invested with universal +significance and the utmost conceivable charm. The smaller the realm and +the humbler the act into which this amplitude and universality of spirit +are carried, the more are they emphasized and set off; so that, without +opportunity of unusual occasion, or singular opulence of natural power, +a man's life may possess all that majesty which the imagination pictures +in archangels and in gods. Indeed, it is but simple statement of fact to +say, that he who rests _utterly_ in his action shall belittle not only +whatsoever history has recorded, but all which that poet of poets, +Mankind, has ever dreamed or fabled of grace and greatness. He shall +not peer about with curiosity to spy approbation, or with zeal to defy +censure; he shall not know if there be a spectator in the world; his +most public deed shall be done in a divine privacy, on which no eye +intrudes,--his most private in the boundless publicities of Nature; his +deed, when done, falls away from him, like autumn apples from their +boughs, no longer his, but the world's and destiny's; neither the +captive of yesterday nor the propitiator of to-morrow, he abides simply, +majestically, like a god, in being and doing. Meanwhile, blame and +praise whirl but as unrecognized cloudlets of gloom or glitter beneath +his feet, enveloping and often blinding those who utter them, but to him +never attaining. + +It is not easy at present to suggest the real measure and significance +of such manhood, because this age has debased its imagination, by the +double trick, first, of confounding man with his body, and next, of +considering the body, not as a symbol of truth, but only as an agent in +the domain of matter,--comparing its size with the sum total of physical +space, and its muscular power with the sum total of physical forces. Yet + + "What know we greater than the soul?" + +A man is no outlying province, nor does any province lie beyond him. +East, West, North, South, and height and depth are contained in his +bosom, the poles of his being reaching more widely, his zenith and nadir +being more sublime and more profound. We are cheated by nearness and +intimacy. Let us look at man with a telescope, and we shall find no star +or constellation of sweep so grand, no nebulae or star-dust so provoking +and suggestive to fancy. In truth, there are no words to say how either +large or small, how significant or insignificant, men may be. Though +solar and stellar systems amaze by their grandeur of scale, yet is true +manhood the maximum of Nature; though microscopic and sub-microscopic +protophyta amaze by their inconceivable littleness, yet is mock manhood +Nature's minimum. The latter is the only negative quantity known to +Nature; the former the only revelation of her entire heart. + +In concluding, need I say that only the pure can repose in his +action,--only he obtain deliverance by his deed, and after deliverance +from it? The egotism, the baseness, the partialities that are in our +performance are hooks and barbs by which it wounds and wearies us in the +passage, and clings to us being past. + +Law governs all; no favor is shown; the event is as it must be; only he +who has no blinding partiality toward himself, who is whole and one with +the whole, he who is Nature and Law and divine Necessity, can be blest +with that blessedness which Nature is able to give only by her presence. +There is a labor and a rest that are the same, one fact, one felicity; +in this are power, beauty, immortality; by existence as a whole it is +always perfectly exemplified; to man, as the eye of existence, it is +also possible; but it is possible to him only as he is purely man,--only +as he abandons himself to the divine principles of his life: in other +words, this Sabbath remaineth in very deed to no other than the people +of God. + + * * * * * + + +LIGHTS OF THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT. + + +At the opening of the present century, the Lake District of Cumberland +and Westmoreland was groaned over by some residents as fast losing its +simplicity. The poet Gray had been the first to describe its natural +features in an express manner; and his account of the views above +Keswick and Grasmere was quoted, sixty years since, as evidence of +the spoiling process which had gone on since the introduction of +civilization from the South. Gray remarked on the absence of red roofs, +gentlemen's houses, and garden-walls, and on the uniform character of +the humble farmsteads and gray cottages under their sycamores in the +vales. Wordsworth heard and spoke a good deal of the innovations which +had modified the scene in the course of the thirty years which elapsed +between Gray's visits (in 1767-69) and his own settlement in the Lake +District; but he lived to say more, at the end of half a century, of the +wider and deeper changes which time had wrought in the aspect of the +country and the minds and manners of the people. According to his +testimony, and that of Southey, the barbarism was of a somewhat gross +character at the end of the last century; the magistrates were careless +of the condition of the society in which they bore authority; the clergy +were idle or worse,--"marrying and burying machines," as Southey told +Wilberforce; and the morality of the people, such as it was, was +ascribed by Wordsworth, in those his days of liberalism in politics, to +the state of republican equality in which they lived. Excellent, fussy +Mr. Wilberforce thought, when he came for some weeks into the District, +that the Devil had had quite time enough for sowing tares while the +clergy were asleep; so he set to work to sow a better seed; and we find +in his diary that he went into house after house "to talk religion to +the people." I do not know how he was received; but at this day the +people are puzzled at that kind of domestic intervention, so unsuitable +to their old-fashioned manners,--one old dame telling with wonder, some +little time since, that a young lady had called and sung a hymn to +her, but had given her nothing at the end for listening. The rough +independence of the popular manners even now offends persons of a +conventional habit of mind; and when poets and philosophers first came +from southern parts to live here, the democratic tone of feeling and +behavior was more striking than it is now or will ever be again. + +Before the Lake poets began to give the public an interest in the +District, some glimpses of it were opened by the well-known literary +ladies of the last century who grouped themselves round their young +favorite, Elizabeth Smith. I do not know whether her name and fame have +reached America; but in my young days she was the English school-girls' +subject of admiration and emulation. She had marvellous powers of +acquisition, and she translated the Book of Job, and a good deal from +the German,--introducing Klopstock to us at a time when we hardly knew +the most conspicuous names in German literature. Elizabeth Smith was an +accomplished girl in all ways. There is a damp, musty-looking house, +with small windows and low ceilings, at Coniston, where she lived with +her parents and sister, for some years before her death. We know, from +Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton's and the Bowdlers' letters, how Elizabeth and +her sister lived in the beauty about them, rambling, sketching, and +rowing their guests on the lake. In one of her rambles, Elizabeth sat +too long under a heavy dew. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, which +never left her, and died in rapid decline. Towards the last she was +carried out daily from the close and narrow rooms at home, and laid in a +tent pitched in a field just across the road, whence she could overlook +the lake, and the range of mountains about its head. On that spot now +stands Tent Lodge, the residence of Tennyson and his bride after their +marriage. One of my neighbors, who first saw the Lake District in early +childhood, has a solemn remembrance of the first impression. The tolling +of the bell of Hawkeshead church was heard from afar; and it was tolling +for the funeral of Elizabeth Smith. Her portrait is before me now,--the +ingenuous, child-like face, with the large dark eyes which alone show +that it is not the portrait of a child. It was through her that a large +proportion of the last generation of readers first had any definite +associations with Coniston. + +Wordsworth had, however, been in that church many a time, above twenty +years before, when at Hawkeshead school. He used to tell that his mother +had praised him for going into the church, one week-day, to see a woman +do penance in a white sheet. She considered it good for his morals. But +when he declared himself disappointed that nobody had given him a penny +for his attendance, as he had somehow expected, his mother told him he +was served right for going to church from such an inducement. He spoke +with gratitude of an usher at that school, who put him in the way +of learning the Latin, which had been a sore trouble at his native +Cockermouth, from unskilful teaching. Our interest in him at that +school, however, is from his having there first conceived the idea of +writing verse. His master set the boys, as a task, to write a poetical +theme,--"The Summer Vacation"; and Master William chose to add to it +"The Return to School." He was then fourteen; and he was to be double +that age before he returned to the District and took up his abode there. + +He had meantime gone through his college course, as described in his +Memoirs, and undergone strange conditions of opinion and feeling in +Paris during the Revolution; had lived in Dorsetshire, with his faithful +sister; had there first seen Coleridge, and had been so impressed by the +mind and discourse of that wonderful young philosopher as to remove to +Somersetshire to be near him; had seen Klopstock in Germany, and lived +there for a time; and had passed through other changes of residence and +places, when we find him again among the Lakes in 1779, still with his +sister by his side, and their brother John, and Coleridge, who had never +been in the District before. + +As they stood on the margin of Grasmere, the scene was more like what +Gray saw than what is seen at this day. The churchyard was bare of the +yews which now distinguish it,--for Sir George Beaumont had them planted +at a later time; and where the group of kindred and friends--the +Wordsworths and their relatives--now lie, the turf was level and +untouched. The iron rails and indefensible monuments, which Wordsworth +so reprobated half a century later, did not exist. The villas which stud +the slopes, the great inns which bring a great public, were uncreated; +and there was only the old Roman road where the Wishing-Gate is, or the +short cut by the quarries to arrive by from the South, instead of the +fine mail-road which now winds between the hills and the margin of +the lake. John Wordsworth guided his brother and Coleridge through +Grisedale, over a spur of Helvellyn, to see Ullswater; and Coleridge has +left a characteristic testimony of the effect of the scenery upon him. +It was "a day when light and darkness coexisted in contiguous masses, +and the earth and sky were but one. Nature lived for us in all her +wildest accidents." He tells how his eyes were dim with tears, and +how imagination and reality blended their objects and impressions. +Wordsworth's account of the same excursion is in as admirable contrast +with Coleridge's as their whole mode of life and expression was, from +first to last. With the carelessness of the popular mind in such cases, +the British public had already almost confounded the two men and their +works, as it soon after mixed up Southey with both; whereas they were +all as unlike each other as any three poets could well be. + +Coleridge and Wordsworth were both contemplative, it is true, while +Southey was not: but the remarkable thing about Coleridge was the +exclusiveness of his contemplative tendencies, by which one set of +faculties ran riot in his mind and life, making havoc among his powers, +and a dismal wreck of his existence. The charm and marvel of his +discourse upset all judgments during his life, and for as long as his +voice remained in the ear of his enchanted hearers; but, apart from the +spell, it is clear to all sober and trained thinkers that Coleridge +wandered away from truth and reality in the midst of his vaticinations, +as the _clairvoyant_ does in the midst of his previsions, so as to +mislead and bewilder, while inspiring and intoxicating the hearer or +reader. He recorded, in regard to himself, that "history and particular +facts lost all interest" in his mind after his first launch into +metaphysics; and he remained through life incapable of discerning +reality from inborn images. Wordsworth took alarm at the first +experience of such a tendency in himself, and relates that he used to +catch at the trees and palings by the roadside to satisfy himself of +existences out of himself; but Coleridge encouraged this subjective +exclusiveness, to the destruction of the balance of his mind and the +_morale_ of his nature. He was himself a wild poem; and he discoursed +wild poems to us,--musical romances from Dreamland; but the luxury to +himself and us was bought by injury to others which was altogether +irreparable, and pardonable only on the ground that the balance of his +mind was destroyed by a fatal intellectual, in addition to physical +intemperance. In him we see an extreme case of a life of contemplation +uncontrolled by will and unchecked by action. His faculty of will +perished, and his prerogative of action died out. His contemplations +must necessarily be worth just so much the less to us as his mental +structure was deformed,--extravagantly developed in one direction, and +dwarfed in another. + +The singularity in Wordsworth's case, on the other hand, is that his +contemplative tendencies not only coexisted with, but were implicated +with, the most precise and vivid apprehension of small realities. There +was no proportion in his mind; and vaticination and twaddle rolled +off his eloquent tongue as chance would have it. At one time he would +discourse like a seer, on the slightest instigation, by the hour +together; and next, he would hold forth with equal solemnity, on the +pettiest matter of domestic economy. I have known him take up some +casual notice of a "beck" (brook) in the neighborhood, and discourse +of brooks for two hours, till his hearers felt as if they were by the +rivers of waters in heaven; and next, he would talk on and on, till +stopped by some accident, on his doubt whether Mrs. Wordsworth gave a +penny apiece or a half-penny apiece for trapped mice to a little girl +who had undertaken to clear the house of them. It has been common to +regret that he held the office of Stamp-Distributor in the District; but +it was probably a great benefit to his mind as well as his fortunes. It +was something that it gave him security and ease as to the maintenance +of his family; but that is less important than its necessitating a +certain amount of absence from home, and intercourse with men on +business. He was no reader in mature life; and the concentration of his +mind on his own views, and his own genius, and the interests of his home +and neighborhood, caused some foibles, as it was; and it might have been +almost fatal, but for some office which allowed him to gratify his love +of out-door life at the same time that it led him into intercourse +with men in another capacity than as listeners to himself, or peasants +engrossed in their own small concerns. + +Southey was not contemplative or speculative, and it could only have +been because he lived at the Lakes and was Coleridge's brother-in-law +that he was implicated with the two speculative poets at all. It has +been carelessly reported by Lake tourists that Southey was not beloved +among his neighbors, while Wordsworth was; and that therefore the latter +was the better man, in a social sense. It should be remembered that +Southey was a working man, and that the other two were not; and, +moreover, it should never be for a moment forgotten that Southey worked +double-tides to make up for Coleridge's idleness. While Coleridge was +dreaming and discoursing, Southey was toiling to maintain Coleridge's +wife and children. He had no time and no attention to spare for +wandering about and making himself at home with the neighbors. This +practice came naturally to Wordsworth; and a kind and valued neighbor he +was to all the peasants round. Many a time I have seen him in the road, +in Scotch bonnet and green spectacles, with a dozen children at his +heels and holding his cloak, while he cut ash-sticks for them from the +hedge, hearing all they had to say or talking to them. Southey, on the +other hand, took his constitutional walk at a fixed hour, often reading +as he went. Two families depended on him; and his duty of daily labor +was not only distinctive, but exclusive. He was always at work at home, +while Coleridge was doing nothing but talking, and Wordsworth was +abroad, without thinking whether he was at work or play. Seen from the +stand-point of conscience and of moral generosity, Southey's was the +noblest life of the three; and Coleridge's was, of course, nought. +I own, however, that, considering the tendency of the time to make +literature a trade, or at least a profession, I cannot help feeling +Wordsworth's to have been the most privileged life of them all. He had +not work enough to do; and his mode of life encouraged an excess of +egoism: but he bore all the necessary retribution of this in his latter +years; and the whole career leaves an impression of an airy freedom and +a natural course of contemplation, combined with social interest and +action, more healthy than the existence of either the delinquent or the +exemplary comrade with whom he was associated in the public view. + +I have left my neighbors waiting long on the margin of Grasmere. That +was before I was born; but I could almost fancy I had seen them there. + +I observed that Wordsworth's report of their trip was very unlike +Coleridge's. When his sister had left them, he wrote to her, describing +scenes by brief precise touches which draw the picture that Coleridge +blurs with grand phrases. Moreover, Wordsworth tells sister Dorothy that +John will give him forty pounds to buy a bit of land by the lake, where +they may build a cottage to live in henceforth. He says, also, that +there is a small house vacant near the spot.--They took that house; +and thus the Wordsworths became "Lakers." They entered that well-known +cottage at Grasmere on the shortest day (St. Thomas's) of 1799. Many +years afterwards, Dorothy wrote of the aspect of Grasmere on her arrival +that winter evening,--the pale orange lights on the lake, and the +reflection of the mountains and the island in the still waters. She +had wandered about the world in an unsettled way; and now she had cast +anchor for life,--not in that house, but within view of that valley. + +All readers of Wordsworth, on either side the Atlantic, believe +that they know that cottage, (described in the fifth book of the +"Excursion,") with its little orchard, and the moss house, and the +tiny terrace behind, with its fine view of the lake and the basin of +mountains. There the brother and sister lived for some years in a very +humble way, making their feast of the beauty about them. Wordsworth was +fond of telling how they had meat only two or three times a week; and he +was eager to impress on new-comers--on me among others--the prudence of +warning visitors that they must make up their minds to the scantiest +fare. He was as emphatic about this, laying his finger on one's arm to +enforce it, as about catching mice or educating the people. It was vain +to say that one would rather not invite guests than fail to provide for +them; he insisted that the expense would be awful, and assumed that his +sister's and his own example settled the matter. I suppose they were +poor in those days; but it was not for long. A devoted sister Dorothy +was. Too late it appeared that she had sacrificed herself to aid and +indulge her brother. When her mind was gone, and she was dying by +inches, Mrs. Wordsworth offered me the serious warning that she gave +whenever occasion allowed, against overwalking. She told me that Dorothy +had, not occasionally only, but often, walked forty miles in a day to +give her brother her presence. To repair the ravages thus caused she +took opium; and the effect on her exhausted frame was to overthrow her +mind. This was when she was elderly. For a long course of years, she +was a rich household blessing to all connected with her. She shared her +brother's peculiarity of investing trifles with solemnity, or rather, +of treating all occasions alike (at least in writing) with pedantic +elaboration; but she had the true poet's, combined with the true woman's +nature; and the fortunate man had, in wife and sister, the two best +friends of his life. + +The Wordsworths were the originals of the Lake _coterie,_ as we have +seen. Born at Cockermouth, and a pupil at the Hawkeshead school, +Wordsworth was looking homewards when he settled in the District. The +others came in consequence. Coleridge brought his family to Greta Hall, +near Keswick; and with them came Mrs. Lovell, one of the three Misses +Fricker, of whom Coleridge and Southey had married two. Southey was +invited to visit Greta Hall, the year after the Wordsworths settled at +Grasmere; and thus they became acquainted. They had just met before, in +the South; but they had yet to learn to know each other; and there was +sufficient unlikeness between them to render this a work of some time +and pains. It was not long before Southey, instead of Coleridge, was +the lessee of Greta Hall; and soon after Coleridge took his departure, +leaving his wife and children, and also the Lovells, a charge upon +Southey, who had no more fortune than Coleridge, except in the +inexhaustible wealth of a heart, a will, and a conscience. Wordsworth +married in 1802; and then the two poets passed through their share of +the experience of human life, a few miles apart, meeting occasionally on +some mountain ridge or hidden dale, and in one another's houses, drawn +closer by their common joys and sorrows, but never approximating in +the quality of their genius, or in the stand-points from which they +respectively looked out upon human affairs. They had children, loved +them, and each lost some of them; and they felt tenderly for each other +when each little grave was opened. Southey, the most amiable of men in +domestic life, gentle, generous, serene, and playful, grew absolutely +ferocious about politics, as his articles in the "Quarterly Review" +showed all the world. Wordsworth, who had some of the irritability and +pettishness, mildly described by himself as "gentle stirrings of the +mind," which occasionally render great men ludicrously like children, +and who was, moreover, highly conservative after his early democratic +fever had passed off, grew more and more liberal with advancing years. +I do not mean that he verged towards the Reformers,--but that he became +more enlarged, tolerant, and generally sympathetic in his political +views and temper. It thus happened that society at a distance took up +a wholly wrong impression of the two men,--supposing Southey to be an +ill-conditioned bigot, and Wordsworth a serene philosopher, far above +being disturbed by troubles in daily life, or paying any attention to +party-politics. He showed some of his ever-growing liberality, by the +way, in speaking of this matter of temper. In old age, he said that the +world certainly does get on in minor morals: that when he was young +"everybody had a temper"; whereas now no such thing is allowed; +amiability is the rule; and an imperfect temper is an offence and a +misfortune of a distinctive character. + +Among the letters which now and then arrived from strangers, in the +early days of Wordsworth's fame, was one which might have come from +Coleridge, if they had never met. It was full of admiration and +sympathy, expressed as such feelings would be by a man whose analytical +and speculative faculties predominated over all the rest. The writer +was, indeed, in those days, marvellously like Coleridge,--subtile in +analysis to excess, of gorgeous imagination, bewitching discourse, fine +scholarship, with a magnificent power of promising and utter incapacity +in performing, and with the same habit of intemperance in opium. By +his own account, his "disease was to meditate too much and observe too +little." I need hardly explain that this was De Quincey; and when I have +said that, I need hardly explain further that advancing time and closer +acquaintance made the likeness to Coleridge bear a smaller and smaller +proportion to the whole character of the man. + +In return for his letter of admiration and sympathy, he received an +invitation to the Grasmere valley. More than once he set forth to avail +himself of it; but when within a few miles, the shyness under which in +those days he suffered overpowered his purpose, and he turned back. +After having achieved the meeting, however, he soon announced his +intention of settling in the valley; and he did so, putting his wife +and children eventually into the cottage which the Wordsworths had now +outgrown and left. There was little in him to interest or attach a +family of regular domestic habits, like the Wordsworths, given to active +employment, sensible thrift, and neighborly sympathy. It was universally +known that a great poem of Wordsworth's was reserved for posthumous +publication, and kept under lock and key meantime. De Quincey had so +remarkable a memory that he carried off by means of it the finest +passage of the poem,--or that which the author considered so; and +he published that passage in a magazine article, in which he gave +a detailed account of the Wordsworths' household, connections, and +friends, with an analysis of their characters and an exhibition of their +faults. This was in 1838, a dozen years before the poet's death. The +point of interest is,--How did the wronged family endure the wrong? They +were quiet about it,--that is, sensible and dignified; but Wordsworth +was more. A friend of his and mine was talking with him over the fire, +just when De Quincey's disclosures were making the most noise, and +mentioned the subject. Wordsworth begged to be spared hearing anything +about them, saying that the man had long passed away from the family +life and mind, and he did not wish to disturb himself about what could +not be remedied. My friend acquiesced, saying, "Well, I will tell you +only one thing that he says, and then we will talk of something else. He +says your wife is too good for you." The old man's dim eyes lighted up +instantly, and he started from his seat, and flung himself against +the mantel-piece, with his back to the fire, as he cried with loud +enthusiasm, "And that's _true! There_ he is right!" + +It was by his written disclosures only that De Quincey could do much +mischief; for it was scarcely possible to be prejudiced by anything he +could say. The whole man was grotesque; and it must have been a singular +image that his neighbors in the valley preserved in their memory. A +frail-looking, diminutive man, with narrow chest and round shoulders and +features like those of a dying patient, walking with his hands behind +him, his hat on the back of his head, and his broad lower lip projected, +as if he had something on his tongue that wanted listening to,--such was +his aspect; and if one joined company with him, the strangeness grew +from moment to moment. His voice and its modulations were a perfect +treat. As for what he had to say, it was everything from odd comment on +a passing trifle, eloquent enunciation of some truth, or pregnant +remark on some lofty subject, down to petty gossip, so delivered as to +authorize a doubt whether it might not possibly be an awkward effort +at observing something outside of himself, or at getting a grasp of +something that he supposed actual. That he should have so supposed was +his weakness, and the retribution for the peculiar intemperance which +depraved his nature and alienated from their proper use powers which +should have made him one of the first philosophers of his age. His +singular organization was fatally deranged in its action before it could +show its best quality, and his is one of the cases in which we cannot be +wrong in attributing moral disease directly to physical disturbance; and +it would no doubt have been dropped out of notice, if he had been able +to abstain from comment on the characters and lives of other people. +Justice to them compels us to accept and use the exposures he offers us +of himself. + +About the time of De Quincey's settlement at Grasmere, Wilson, the +future CHRISTOPHER NORTH, bought the Elleray estate, on the banks of +Windermere. He was then just of age,--supreme in all manly sports, +physically a model man, and intellectually, brimming with philosophy and +poetry. He came hither a rather spoiled child of fortune, perhaps; but +he was soon sobered by a loss of property which sent him to his studies +for the bar. Scott was an excellent friend to him at that time; and so +strong and prophetic was Wilson's admiration of his patron, that he +publicly gave him the name of "The Great Magician" before the first +"Waverley Novel" was published. Within ten years from his getting a +foothold on Windermere banks, he had raised periodical literature to a +height unknown before in our time, by his contributions to "Blackwood's +Magazine"; and he seemed to step naturally into the Moral Philosophy +Chair in Edinburgh in 1820. Christopher North has perhaps conveyed to +foreign, and untravelled English, readers as true a conception of our +Lake scenery and its influences in one way as Wordsworth in another. +The very spirit of the moorland, lake, brook, tarn, ghyll, and ridge +breathes from his prose poetry: and well it might. He wandered alone for +a week together beside the trout-streams and among the highest tarns. He +spent whole days in his boat, coasting the bays of the lake, or floating +in the centre, or lying reading in the shade of the trees on the +islands. He led with a glorious pride the famous regatta on Windermere, +when Canning was the guest of the Boltons at Storrs, and when Scott, +Wordsworth, and Southey were of the company; and he liked almost as well +steering the packet-boat from Waterhead to Bowness, till the steamer +drove out the old-fashioned conveyance. He sat at the stern, +immovable, with his hand on the rudder, looking beyond the company of +journeymen-carpenters, fish- and butter-women, and tourists, with a +gaze on the water-and-sky-line which never shifted. Sometimes a learned +professor or a brother sportsman was with him; but he spoke no word, and +kept his mouth peremptorily shut under his beard. It was a sight worth +taking the voyage for; and it was worth going a long round to see him +standing on the shore,--"reminding one of the first man, Adam," (as was +said of him,) in his best estate,--the tall, broad frame, large head, +marked features, and long hair; and the tread which shook the ground, +and the voice which roused the echoes afar and made one's heart-strings +vibrate within. These attributes made strangers turn to look at him on +the road, and fixed all eyes on him in the ball-room at Ambleside, when +any local object induced him to be a steward. Every old boatman and +young angler, every hoary shepherd and primitive housewife in the +uplands and dales, had an enthusiasm for him. He could enter into the +solemnity of speculation with Wordsworth while floating at sunset on the +lake; and not the less gamesomely could he collect a set of good fellows +under the lamp at his supper-table, and take off Wordsworth's or +Coleridge's monologues to the life. There was that between them which +must always have precluded a close sympathy; and their faults were just +what each could least allow for in another. Of Wilson's it is enough to +say that Scott's injunction to him to "leave off sack, purge, and live +cleanly," if he wished for the Moral Philosophy Chair, was precisely +what was needed. It was still needed some time after, when, though a +Professor of Moral Philosophy, he was seen, with poor Campbell, leaving +a tavern one morning, in Edinburgh, haggard and red-eyed, hoarse and +exhausted,--not only the feeble Campbell, but the mighty Wilson,--they +having sat together twenty-four hours, discussing poetry and wine with +all their united energies. This sort of thing was not to the taste of +Wordsworth or Southey, any more than their special complacencies were +venerable to the humor of Christopher North. Yet they could cordially +admire one another; and when sorrows came over them, in dreary +impartiality, they could feel reverently and deeply for each other. When +Southey lost his idolized boy, Herbert, and had to watch over his insane +wife, always his dearest friend, and all the dearer for her helpless +and patient suffering under an impenetrable gloom,--when Wordsworth was +bereaved of the daughter who made the brightness of his life in his old +age,--and when Wilson was shaken to the centre by the loss of his wife, +and mourned alone in the damp shades of Elleray, where he would allow +not a twig to be cut from the trees she loved,--the sorrow of each moved +them all. Elleray was a gloomy place then, and Wilson never surmounted +the melancholy which beset him there; and he wisely parted with it +some years before his death. The later depression in his case was in +proportion to the earlier exhilaration. His love of Nature and of genial +human intercourse had been too exuberant; and he became incapable of +enjoyment from either, in his last years. He never recovered from an +attack of pressure on the brain, and died paralyzed in the spring of +1854. He had before gone from among us with his joy; and then we heard +that he had dropped out of life with his griefs; and our beautiful +region, and the region of life, were so much the darker in a thousand +eyes. + +While speaking of Elleray, we should pay a passing tribute of gratitude +to an older worthy of that neighborhood,--the well-known Bishop of +Llandaff, Richard Watson, who did more for the beauty of Windermere than +any other person. There is nothing to praise in the damp old mansion +at Calgarth, set down in low ground, and actually with its back to the +lake, and its front windows commanding no view; but the woods are the +glory of Bishop Watson. He was not a happy prelate, believing himself +undervalued and neglected, and fretting his heart over his want of +promotion; but be must have had many a blessed hour while planting +those woods for which many generations will be grateful to him. Let +the traveller remember him, when looking abroad from Miller Brow, near +Bowness. Below lies the whole length of Windermere, from the white +houses of Clappersgate, nestling under Loughrigg at the head, to the +Beacon at the foot. The whole range of both shores, with their bays +and coves and promontories, can be traced; and the green islands are +clustered in the centre; and the whole gradation of edifices is seen, +from Wray Castle, on its rising ground, to the tiny boat-houses, each +on its creek. All these features are enhanced in beauty by the Calgarth +woods, which cover the undulations of hill and margin beneath and +around, rising and falling, spreading and contracting, with green +meadows interposed, down to the white pebbly strand. To my eye, this +view is unsurpassed by any in the District. + +Bishop Watson's two daughters were living in the neighborhood till two +years ago,--antique spinsters, presenting us with a most vivid specimen +of the literary female life of the last century. They were excellent +women, differing from the rest of society chiefly in their notion that +superior people should show their superiority in all the acts of their +lives,--that literary people should talk literature, and scientific +people science, and so on; and they felt affronted, as if set down among +common people, when an author talked about common things in a common +way. They did their best to treat their friends to wit and polite +letters; and they expected to be ministered to in the same fashion. This +was rather embarrassing to visitors to whom it had never occurred to +talk for any other purpose than to say what presented itself at the +moment; but it is a privilege to have known those faithful sisters, and +to have seen in them a good specimen of the literary society of the last +century. + +There is another spot in that neighborhood which strangers look up to +with interest from the lake itself,--Dovenest, the abode of Mrs. Hemans +for the short time of her residence at the Lakes. She saw it for the +first time from the lake, as her published correspondence tells, and +fell in love with it; and as it was vacant at the time, she went into it +at once. Many of my readers will remember her description of the garden +and the view from it, the terrace, the circular grass-plot with its one +tall white rose-tree. "You cannot imagine," she wrote, in 1830, "how I +delight in that fair, solitary, neglected-looking tree." The tree is not +neglected now. Dovenest is inhabited by Mrs. Hemans's then young friend, +the Rev. R.P. Graves; and it has recovered from the wildness and +desolation of thirty years ago, while looking as secluded as ever among +the woods on the side of Wansfell. + +All this time, illustrious strangers were coming, year by year, to visit +residents, or to live among the mountains for a few weeks. There was +Wilberforce, spending part of a summer at Rayrigg, on the lake shore. +One of his boys asked him, "Why should you not buy a house here? and +then we could come every year." The reply was characteristic:--that it +would be very delightful; but that the world is lying, in a manner, +under the curse of God; that we have something else to do than to enjoy +fine prospects; and that, though it may be allowable to taste the +pleasure now and then, we ought to wait till the other life to enjoy +ourselves. Such was the strait-lacing in which the good man was forever +trying to compress his genial, buoyant, and grateful nature.--Scott came +again and again; and Wordsworth and Southey met to do him honor. The +tourist must remember the Swan Inn,--the white house beyond Grasmere, +under the skirts of Helvellyn. There Scott went daily for a glass of +something good, while Wordsworth's guest, and treated with the homely +fare of the Grasmere cottage. One morning, his host, himself, and +Southey went up to the Swan, to start thence with ponies for the ascent +of Helvellyn. The innkeeper saw them coming, and accosted Scott with +"Eh, Sir! ye're come early for your draught to-day!"--a disclosure which +was not likely to embarrass his host at all. Wordsworth was probably the +least-discomposed member of the party.--Charles Lamb and his sister once +popped in unannounced on Coleridge at Keswick, and spent three weeks in +the neighborhood. We can all fancy the little man on the top of Skiddaw, +with his mind full as usual of quips and pranks, and struggling with the +emotions of mountain-land, so new and strange to a Cockney, such as he +truly described himself. His loving readers do not forget his statement +of the comparative charms of Skiddaw and Fleet Street; and on the spot +we quote his exclamations about the peak, and the keen air there, and +the look over into Scotland, and down upon a sea of mountains which made +him giddy. We are glad he came and enjoyed a day, which, as he said, +would stand out like a mountain in his life; but we feel that he could +never have followed his friends hither,--Coleridge and Wordsworth,--and +have made himself at home. The warmth of a city and the hum of human +voices all day long were necessary to his spirits. As to his passage at +arms with Southey,--everybody's sympathies are with Lamb; and he +only vexes us by his humility and gratitude at being pardoned by the +aggressor, whom he had in fact humiliated in all eyes but his own. It +was one of Southey's spurts of insolent bigotry; and Lamb's plea for +tolerance and fair play was so sound as to make it a poor affectation in +Southey to assume a pardoning air; but, if Lamb's kindly and sensitive +nature could not sustain him in so virtuous an opposition, it is well +that the two men did not meet on the top of Skiddaw.--Canning's visit to +Storrs, on Windermere, was a great event in its day; and Lockhart tells +us, in his "Life of Scott," what the regatta was like, when Wilson +played Admiral, and the group of local poets, and Scott, were in the +train of the statesman. Since that day, it has been a common thing for +illustrious persons to appear in our valleys. Statesmen, churchmen, +university-men, princes, peers, bishops, authors, artists, flock hither; +and during the latter years of Wordsworth's life, the average number +of strangers who called at Rydal Mount in the course of the season was +eight hundred. + +During the growth of the District from its wildness to this thronged +state, a minor light of the region was kindling, flickering, failing, +gleaming, and at last going out,--anxiously watched and tended, but to +little purpose. The life of Hartley Coleridge has been published by his +family; and there can, therefore, be no scruple in speaking of him here. +The remembrance of him haunts us all,--almost as his ghost haunts his +kind landlady. Long after his death, she used to "hear him at night +laughing in his room," as he used to do when he lived there. A peculiar +laugh it was, which broke out when fancies crossed him, whether he was +alone or in company. Travellers used to look after him on the road, and +guides and drivers were always willing to tell about him; and still +his old friends almost expect to see Hartley at any turn,--the little +figure, with the round face, marked by the blackest eyebrows and +eyelashes, and by a smile and expression of great eccentricity. As we +passed, he would make a full stop in the road, face about, take off his +black-and-white straw hat, and bow down to the ground. The first glance +in return was always to see whether he was sober. The Hutchinsons must +remember him. He was one of the audience, when they held their concert +under the sycamores in Mr. Harrison's grounds at Ambleside; and he +thereupon wrote a sonnet,[A] doubtless well known in America. When I +wanted his leave to publish that sonnet, in an account of "Frolics with +the Hutchinsons," it was necessary to hunt him up, from public-house +to public-house, early in the morning. It is because these things are +universally known,--because he was seen staggering in the road, and +spoken of by drivers and lax artisans as an alehouse comrade, that I +speak of him here, in order that I may testify how he was beloved and +cherished by the best people in his neighborhood. I can hardly speak +of him myself as a personal acquaintance; for I could not venture on +inviting him to my house. I saw what it was to others to be subject to +day-long visits from him, when he would ask for wine, and talk from +morning to night,--and a woman, solitary and busy, could not undertake +that sort of hospitality; but I saw how forbearing his friends were, and +why,--and I could sympathize in their regrets when he died. I met him +in company occasionally, and never saw him sober; but I have heard from +several common friends of the charm of his conversation, and the beauty +of his gentle and affectionate nature. He was brought into the District +when four years old; and it does not appear that he ever had a chance +allowed him of growing into a sane man. Wordsworth used to say that +Hartley's life's failure arose mainly from his having grown up "wild +as the breeze,"--delivered over, without help or guardianship, to the +vagaries of an imagination which overwhelmed all the rest of him. There +was a strong constitutional likeness to his father, evident enough to +all; but no pains seem to have been taken on any hand to guard him from +the snare, or to invigorate his will, and aid him in self-discipline. +The great catastrophe, the ruinous blow, which rendered him hopeless, is +told in the Memoir; but there are particulars which help to account for +it. Hartley had spent his school-days under a master as eccentric as he +himself ever became. The Rev. John Dawes of Ambleside was one of the +oddities that may be found in the remote places of modern England. He +had no idea of restraint, for himself or his pupils; and when they +arrived, punctually or not, for morning school, they sometimes found the +door shut, and chalked with "Gone a-hunting," or "Gone a-fishing," or +gone away somewhere or other. Then Hartley would sit down under the +bridge, or in the shadow of the wood, or lie on the grass on the +hill-side, and tell tales to his schoolfellows for hours. His mind was +developed by the conversation of his father and his father's friends; +and he himself had a great friendship with Professor Wilson, who always +stood by him with a pitying love. He had this kind of discursive +education, but no discipline; and when he went to college, he was at the +mercy of any who courted his affection, intoxicated his imagination, and +then led him into vice. His Memoir shows how he lost his fellowship at +Oriel College, Oxford, at the end of his probationary year. He had been +warned by the authorities against his sin of intemperance; and he bent +his whole soul to get through that probationary year. For eleven months, +and many days of the twelfth, he lived soberly and studied well. Then +the old tempters agreed in London to go down to Oxford and get hold of +Hartley. They went down on the top of the coach, got access to his room, +made him drunk, and carried him with them to London; and he was not to +be found when he should have passed. The story of his death is but too +like this. + +[Footnote A: + +SONNET + +TO TENNYSON, AFTER HEARING ABBY HUTCHINSON SING "THE MAY-QUEEN" AT +AMBLESIDE. + + I would, my friend, indeed, thou hadst been + here + Last night, beneath the shadowy sycamore, + To hear the lines, to me well known before, + Embalmed in music so translucent clear. + Each word of thine came singly to the ear, + Yet all was blended in a flowing stream. + It had the rich repose of summer dream, + The light distinct of frosty atmosphere. + Still have I loved thy verse, yet never knew + How sweet it was, till woman's voice invested + The pencilled outline with the living hue, + And every note of feeling proved and tested. + What might old Pindar be, if once again + The harp and voice were trembling with his + strain! +] + +His fellowship lost, he came, ruinously humbled, to live in this +District, at first under compulsion to take pupils, whom, of course, he +could not manage. On the death of his mother, an annuity was purchased +for him, and paid quarterly, to keep him out of debt, if possible. He +could not take care of money, and he was often hungry, and often begged +the loan of a sixpence; and when the publicans made him welcome to what +he pleased to have, in consideration of the company he brought together, +to hear his wonderful talk, his wit, and his dreams, he was helpless in +the snare. We must remember that he was a fine scholar, as well as a +dreamer and a humorist; and there was no order of intellect, from the +sage to the peasant, which could resist the charm of his discourse. He +had taken his degree with high distinction at Oxford; and yet the old +Westmoreland "statesman," who, offered whiskey and water, accepts the +one and says the other can be had anywhere, would sit long to hear what +Hartley had to tell of what he had seen or dreamed. At gentlemen's +tables, it was a chance how he might talk,--sublimely, sweetly, or with +a want of tact which made sad confusion. In the midst of the great +black-frost at the close of 1848, he was at a small dinner-party at +the house of a widow lady, about four miles from his lodgings. During +dinner, some scandal was talked about some friends of his to whom he +was warmly attached. He became excited on their behalf,--took Champagne +before he had eaten enough, and, before the ladies left the table, was +no longer master of himself. His host, a very young man, permitted some +practical joking: brandy was ordered, and given to the unconscious +Hartley; and by eleven o'clock he was clearly unfit to walk home alone. +His hostess sent her footman with him, to see him home. The man took him +through Ambleside, and then left him to find his way for the other two +miles. The cold was as severe as any ever known in this climate; and it +was six in the morning when his landlady heard some noise in the porch, +and found Hartley stumbling in. She put him to bed, put hot bricks to +his feet, and tried all the proper means; and in the middle of the day +he insisted on getting up and going out. He called at the house of a +friend, Dr. S----, near Ambleside. The kind physician scolded him for +coming out, sent for a carriage, took him home, and put him to bed. He +never rose again, but died on the 6th of January, 1849. The young host +and the old hostess have followed him, after deeply deploring that +unhappy day. + +It was sweet, as well as sorrowful, to see how he was mourned. +Everybody, from his old landlady, who cared for him like a mother, to +the infant-school children, missed Hartley Coleridge. I went to his +funeral at Grasmere. The rapid Rotha rippled and dashed over the stones +beside the churchyard; the yews rose dark from the faded grass of the +graves; and in mighty contrast to both, Helvellyn stood, in wintry +silence, and sheeted with spotless snow. Among the mourners Wordsworth +was conspicuous, with his white hair and patriarchal aspect. He had +no cause for painful emotions on his own account; for he had been a +faithful friend to the doomed victim who was now beyond the reach of his +tempters. While there was any hope that stern remonstrance might rouse +the feeble will and strengthen the suffering conscience to relieve +itself, such remonstrance was pressed; and when the case was past hope, +Wordsworth's door was ever open to his old friend's son. Wordsworth +could stand by that open grave without a misgiving about his own share +in the scene which was here closing; and calm and simply grave he +looked. He might mourn over the life; but he could scarcely grieve at +the death. The grave was close behind the family group of the Wordsworth +tombs. It shows, above the name and dates, a sculptured crown of thorns +and Greek cross, with the legend, "By thy Cross and Passion, Good Lord, +deliver me!" + +One had come and gone meantime who was as express a contrast to Hartley +Coleridge as could be imagined,--a man of energy, activity, stern +self-discipline, and singular strength of will. Such a cast of character +was an inexplicable puzzle to poor Hartley. He showed this by giving his +impression of another person of the same general mode of life,--that +A.B. was "a monomaniac about everything." It was to rest a hard-worked +mind and body, and to satisfy a genuine need of his nature, that Dr. +Arnold came here from Rugby with his family,--first, to lodgings for an +occasional holiday, and afterwards to a house of his own, at Christmas +and Midsummer, and with the intention of living permanently at Fox How, +when he should give up his work at Rugby. + +He was first at a house at the foot of Rydal Mount, at Christmas, 1831, +"with the road on one side of the garden, and the Rotha on the other, +which goes brawling away under our windows with its perpetual music. The +higher mountains that bound our view are all snow-capped; but it is all +snug, and warm, and green in the valley. Nowhere on earth have I ever +seen a spot of more perfect and enjoyable beauty, with not a single +object out of tune with it, look which way I will." He built Fox How, +two or three years later, and at once began his course of hospitality by +having lads of the sixth form as his guests,--not for purposes of study, +but of recreation, and, yet more, to give them that element of education +which consists in familiarity with the noblest natural scenery. The hue +and cry which arose when he showed himself a reformer, in Church matters +as in politics, followed him here, as we see by his letters; and it was +not till his "Life and Correspondence" appeared that his neighbors here +understood him. It has always been difficult, perhaps, for them to +understand anything modern, or at all vivacious. Everybody respected Dr. +Arnold for his energy and industry, his services to education, and his +devotedness to human welfare; but they were afraid of his supposed +opinions. Not the less heartily did he honor everything that was +admirable in them; and when he was gone, they remembered his ways, and +cherished every trace of him, in a manner which showed how they would +have made much of him, if their own timid prejudices had not stood in +the way. They point out to this day the spot where they saw him stand, +without his hat, on Rotha bridge, watching the gush of the river +under the wooded bank, or gazing into the basin of vapors within the +_cul-de-sac_ of Fairfield,--the same view which he looked on from his +study, as he sat on his sofa, surrounded by books. The neighbors show +the little pier at Waterhead whence he watched the morning or the +evening light on the lake, the place where he bathed, and the tracks in +the mountains which led to his favorite ridges. Everybody has read his +"Life and Correspondence," and therefore knows what his mode of life was +here, and how great was his enjoyment of it. We have all read of the +mountain-trips in summer, and the skating on Rydal Lake in winter,--and +how his train of children enjoyed everything with him, as far as they +could. It was but for a few years; and the time never came for him to +retire hither from Rugby. In June, 1842, he had completed his fourteenth +year at Rugby, and was particularly in need, under some harassing cares, +of the solace and repose which a few hours more would have brought him, +when he was cut off by an illness of two hours. On the day when he was +to have been returning to Fox How, some of his children were travelling +thence to his funeral. His biographer tells us how strong was the +consternation at Rugby, when the tidings spread on that Sunday morning, +"Dr. Arnold is dead." Not slight was the emotion throughout this valley, +when the news passed from house to house, the next day. As I write, I +see the windows which were closed that day, and the trees round the +house,--so grown up since he walked among them!--and the course of the +Rotha, which winds and ripples at the foot of his garden. I never saw +him, for I did not come here till two years after; but I have seen his +widow pass on into her honored old age, and his children part off into +their various homes, and their several callings in life,--to meet in +the beloved house at Fox How, at Christmas, and at many another time. + +This leaves only Southey and the Wordsworths; and their ending was not +far off. The old poet had seen almost too much of these endings. One +day, when I found a stoppage in the road at the foot of Rydal Mount, +from a sale of furniture, such as is common in this neighborhood every +spring and autumn, I met Mr. Wordsworth,--not looking observant and +amused, but in his blackest mood of melancholy, and evidently wanting to +get out of the way. He said he did not like the sight: he had seen so +many of these sales; he had seen Southey's, not long before; and these +things reminded him how soon there must be a sale at Rydal Mount. It was +remarked by a third person that this was rather a wilful way of being +miserable; but I never saw a stronger love of life than there was in +them all, even so late in their day as this. Mrs. Wordsworth, then past +her three-score years and ten, observed to me that the worst of living +here was that it made one so unwilling to go. It seems but lately that +she said so; yet she nursed to their graves her daughter and her husband +and his sister, and she herself became blind; so that it was not hard +"to go," when the time came. + +Southey's decline was painful to witness,--even as his beloved wife's +had been to himself. He never got over her loss; and his mind was +decidedly shaken before he made the second marriage which has been so +much talked over. One most touching scene there was when he had become +unconscious of all that was said and done around him. Mrs. Southey had +been careless of her own interests about money when she married him, and +had sought no protection for her own property. When there was manifestly +no hope of her husband's mind ever recovering, his brother assembled the +family and other witnesses, and showed them a kind of will which he had +drawn up, by which Mrs. Southey's property was returned to herself, +intact. He said they were all aware that their relative could not, in +his condition, make a will, and that he was even unaware of what they +were doing; but that it was right that they should, pledge themselves by +some overt act to fulfil what would certainly have been his wish. The +bowed head could not be raised, but the nerveless hand was guided to +sign the instrument; and all present agreed to respect it as if it +were a veritable will,--as of course they did. The decline was full of +painful circumstances; and it must have been with a heart full of sorrow +that Wordsworth walked over the hills to attend the funeral. + +The next funeral was that of his own daughter Dora,--Mrs. Quillinan. A +story has got about, as untrue as it is disagreeable, that Dora lost +her health from her father's opposition to her marriage, and that +Wordsworth's excessive grief after her death was owing to remorse. I can +myself testify to her health having been very good for a considerable +interval between that difficulty and her last illness; and this is +enough, of itself, to dispose of the story. Her parents considered +the marriage an imprudent one; but after securing sufficient time for +consideration, they said that she must judge for herself; and there were +fine qualities in Mr. Quillinan which could not but win their affection +and substantial regard. His first wife, a friend of Dora Wordsworth's, +was carried out of the house in which she had just been confined, from +fire in the middle of the night; she died from the shock; and she died +recommending her husband and her friend to marry. Such is the understood +history of the case. After much delay they did marry, and lived near +Rydal Mount, where Dora was, as always, the light of the house, as long +as she could go to it. But, after a long and painful decline, she died +in 1847. Her husband followed soon after Wordsworth's death. He lies in +the family corner of Grasmere churchyard, between his two wives. This +appeared to be the place reserved for Mrs. Wordsworth, so that Dora +would lie between her parents. There seemed now to be no room left for +the solitary survivor, and many wondered what would be done; but all had +been thought of. Wordsworth's grave had been made deep enough for two; +and there his widow now rests. + +There was much vivid life in them, however clearly the end was +approaching, when I first knew them in 1845. The day after my arrival at +a friend's house, they called on me, excited by two kinds of interest. +Wordsworth had been extremely gratified by hearing, through a book of +mine, how his works were estimated by certain classes of readers in the +United States; and he and Mrs. Wordsworth were eager to learn facts and +opinions about mesmerism, by which I had just recovered from a +long illness, and which they hoped might avail in the case of a +daughter-in-law, then in a dying state abroad. After that day, I met +them frequently, and was at their house, when I could go. On occasion of +my first visit, I was struck by an incident which explained the ridicule +we have all heard thrown on the old poet for a self-esteem which he was +merely too simple to hide. Nothing could be easier than to make a quiz +of what he said to me; but to me it seemed delightful. As he at once +talked of his poems, I thought I might; and I observed that he might +be interested in knowing which of his poems had been Dr. Channing's +favorite. Seeing him really interested, I told him that I had not been +many hours under Dr. Channing's roof before he brought me "The Happy +Warrior," which, he said, moved him more than any other in the +whole series. Wordsworth remarked,--and repeated the remark very +earnestly,--that this was evidently applicable to the piece, "not as +a poem, not as fulfilling the conditions of poetry, but as a chain of +extremely valuable _thoughts_." Then he repeated emphatically,--"a chain +of extremely _valuable_ thoughts!" This was so true that it seemed as +natural for him to say it as Dr. Channing, or any one else. + +It is indisputable that his mind and manners were hurt by the prominence +which his life at the Lakes--a life very public, under the name of +seclusion--gave, in his own eyes; to his own works and conversation; but +he was less absorbed in his own objects, less solemn, less severed from +ordinary men than is supposed, and has been given out by strangers, who, +to the number of eight hundred in a year, have been received by him with +a bow, asked to see the garden-terraces where he had meditated this and +that work, and dismissed with another bow, and good wishes for their +health and pleasure,--the host having, for the most part, not heard, or +not attended to, the name of his visitor. I have seen him receive in +that way a friend, a Commissioner of Education, whom I ventured to take +with me, (a thing I very rarely did,) and in the evening have had a +message asking if I knew how Mr. Wordsworth could obtain an interview +with this very gentleman, who was said to be in the neighborhood. All +this must be very bad for anybody; and so was the distinction of having +early chosen this District for a home. When I first came, I told my +friends here that I was alarmed for myself, when I saw the spirit of +insolence which seemed to possess the cultivated residents, who really +did virtually assume that the mountains and vales were somehow their +property, or at least a privilege appropriate to superior people +like themselves. Wordsworth's sonnets about the railway were a mild +expression of his feelings in this direction; and Mrs. Wordsworth, +in spite of her excellent sense, took up his song, and declared with +unusual warmth that green fields, with daisies and buttercups, were as +good for Lancashire operatives as our lakes and valleys. I proposed that +the people should judge of this for themselves; but there was no end to +ridicule of "the people from Birthwaite" (the end of the railway, five +miles off). Some had been seen getting their dinner in the churchyard, +and others inquiring how best to get up Loughrigg,--"evidently, quite +puzzled, and not knowing where to go." My reply, "that they would know +next time," was not at all sympathized in. The effect of this exclusive +temper was pernicious in the neighborhood. A petition to Parliament +against the railway was not brought to me, as it was well known that +I would not sign it; but some little girls undertook my case; and the +effect of their parroting of Mr. Wordsworth, about "ourselves" and "the +common people" who intrude upon us, was as sad as it was absurd. The +whole matter ended rather remarkably. When all were gone but Mrs. +Wordsworth, and she was blind, a friend who was as a daughter to her +remarked, one summer day, that there were some boys on the Mount in +the garden. "Ah!" said Mrs. Wordsworth, "there is no end to those +people;--boys from Birthwaite!--boys from Birthwaite!" It was the Prince +of Wales, with a companion or two. + +The notion of Wordsworth's solemnity and sublimity, as something +unremitting, was a total mistake. It probably arose from the want of +proportion in his mind, as in his sister's, before referred to. But he +relished the common business of life, and not only could take in, but +originate a joke. I remember his quizzing a common friend of ours,--one +much esteemed by us all,--who had a wonderful ability of falling asleep +in an instant, when not talking. Mr. Wordsworth told me of the extreme +eagerness of this gentleman, Mrs. Wordsworth, and himself, to see the +view over Switzerland from the ridge of the Jura. Mrs. Wordsworth could +not walk so fast as the gentlemen, and her husband let the friend go on +by himself. When they arrived, a minute or two after him, they found him +sitting on a stone in face of all Switzerland, fast asleep. When Mr. +Wordsworth mimicked the sleep, with his head on one side, anybody +could have told whom he was quizzing.--He and Mrs. Wordsworth, but too +naturally impressed with the mischief of overwalking in the case of +women, took up a wholly mistaken notion that I walked too much. One day +I was returning from a circuit of ten miles with a guest, when we +met the Wordsworths. They asked where we had been. "By Red Bank to +Grasmere." Whereupon Mr. Wordsworth laid his hand on my guest's arm, +saying, "There, there! take care what you are about! don't let her lead +you about! I can tell you, she has killed off half the gentlemen in the +county!"--Mrs. Hemans tells us, that, before she had known him many +hours, she was saying to him, "Dear me, Mr. Wordsworth! how can you be +so giddy?" + +His interest in common things never failed. It has been observed that +he and Mrs. Wordsworth did incalculable good by the example they +unconsciously set the neighborhood of respectable thrift. There are no +really poor people at Rydal, because the great lady at the Hall, Lady Le +Fleming, takes care that there shall be none,--at the expense of great +moral mischief. But there is a prevalent recklessness, grossness, and +mingled extravagance and discomfort in the family management, which, I +am told, was far worse when the Wordsworths came than it is now. Going +freely among the neighbors, and welcoming and helping them familiarly, +the Wordsworths laid their own lives open to observation; and the +mingled carefulness and comfort--the good thrift, in short--wrought as +a powerful lesson all around. As for what I myself saw,--they took a +practical interest in my small purchase of land for my abode; and Mr. +Wordsworth often came to consult upon the plan and progress of the +house. He used to lie on the grass, beside the young oaks, before the +foundations were dug; and he referred me to Mrs. Wordsworth as the best +possible authority about the placing of windows and beds. He climbed to +the upper rooms before there was a staircase; and we had to set Mrs. +Wordsworth as a watch over him, when there was a staircase, but no +balustrade. When the garden was laid out, he planted a stone-pine +(which is flourishing) under the terrace-wall, washed his hands in the +watering-pot, and gave the place and me at once his blessing and some +thrifty counsel. When I began farming, he told me an immense deal about +his cow; and both of them came to see my first calf, and ascertain +whether she had the proper marks of the handsome short-horn of the +region. The distinctive impression which the family made on the minds +of the people about them was that of practical ability; and it was +thoroughly well conveyed by the remark of a man at Rydal, on hearing +some talk of Mrs. Wordsworth, a few days after the poet's death: +--"She's a gay [rare] clever body, who will carry on the business as +well as any of 'em." + +Nothing could be more affecting than to watch the silent changes in Mrs. +Wordsworth's spirits during the ten years which followed the death of +her daughter. For many months her husband's gloom was terrible, in the +evenings, or in dull weather. Neither of them could see to read much; +and the poet was not one who ever pretended to restrain his emotions, +or assume a cheerfulness which he did not feel. We all knew that the +mother's heart was the bereaved one, however impressed the father's +imagination might be by the picture of his own desolation; and we saw +her mute about her own trial, and growing whiter in the face and smaller +from month to month, while he put no restraint upon his tears and +lamentations. The winter evenings were dreary; and in hot summer days +the aged wife had to follow him, when he was missed for any time, lest +he should be sitting in the sun without his hat. Often she found him +asleep on the heated rock. His final illness was wearing and dreary to +her; but there her part was clear, and she was adequate to it. "You +are going to Dora," she whispered to him, when the issue was no longer +doubtful. She thought he did not hear or heed; but some hours after, +when some one opened the curtain, he said, "Are you Dora?" Composed and +cheerful in the prospect of his approaching rest, and absolutely without +solicitude for herself, the wife was everything to him till the last +moment; and when he was gone, the anxieties of the self-forgetting woman +were over. She attended his funeral, and afterwards chose to fill her +accustomed place among the guests who filled the house. She made tea +that evening as usual; and the lightening of her spirits from that time +forward was evident. It was a lovely April day, the 23d, (Shakspeare's +birth--and death-day,) when her task of nursing closed. The news spread +fast that the old poet was gone; and we all naturally turned our eyes up +to the roof under which he lay. There, above and amidst the young green +of the woods, the modest dwelling shone in the sunlight. The smoke went +up thin and straight into the air; but the closed windows gave the place +a look of death. There he was lying whom we should see no more. + +The poor sister remained for five years longer. Travellers, American +and others, must remember having found the garden-gate locked at Rydal +Mount, and perceiving the reason why, in seeing a little garden-chair, +with an emaciated old lady in it, drawn by a nurse round and round the +gravelled space before the house. That was Miss Wordsworth, taking her +daily exercise. It was a great trouble, at times, that she could not be +placed in some safe privacy; and Wordsworth's feudal loyalty was put to +a severe test in the matter. It had been settled that a cottage should +be built for his sister, in a field of his, beyond the garden. The plan +was made, and the turf marked out, and the digging about to begin, +when the great lady at the Hall, Lady Le Fleming, interfered with a +prohibition. She assumed the feudal prerogative of determining what +should or should not be built on all the lands over which the Le +Flemings have borne sway; and her extraordinary determination was, that +no dwelling should be built, except on the site of a former one! We +could scarcely believe we had not been carried back into the Middle +Ages, when we heard it; but the old poet, whom any sovereign in Europe +would have been delighted to gratify, submitted with a good grace, and +thenceforth robbed his sister's feet, and coaxed and humored her at +home,--trusting his guests to put up with the inconveniences of her +state, as he could not remove them from sight and hearing. After she was +gone also, Mrs. Wordsworth, entirely blind, and above eighty years of +age, seemed to have no cares, except when the errors and troubles of +others touched her judgment or sympathy. She was well cared for by +nieces and friends. Her plain common sense and cheerfulness appeared +in one of the last things she said, a few hours before her death. She +remarked on the character of the old hymns, practical and familiar, +which people liked when she was young, and which answered some purposes +better than the sublimer modern sort. She repeated part of a child's +hymn,--very homely, about going straight to school, and taking care of +the books, and learning the lesson well,--and broke off, saying, "There! +if you want to hear the rest, ask the Bishop o' London. _He_ knows it." + +Then, all were gone; and there remained only the melancholy breaking up +of the old home which had been interesting to the world for forty-six +years. Mrs. Wordsworth died in January, 1859. In the May following, the +sale took place which Wordsworth had gloomily foreseen so many years +before. Everything of value was reserved, and the few articles desired +by strangers were bought by commission; and thus the throng at the sale +was composed of the ordinary elements. The spectacle was sufficiently +painful to make it natural for old friends to stay away. Doors and +windows stood wide. The sofa and tea-table where the wisest and best +from all parts of the world had held converse were turned out to be +examined and bid for. Anybody who chose passed the sacred threshold; the +auctioneer's hammer was heard on the terrace; and the hospitable parlor +and kitchen were crowded with people swallowing tea in the intervals of +their business. One farmer rode six-and-thirty miles that morning to +carry home something that had belonged to Wordsworth; and, in default of +anything better, he took a patched old table-cover. There was a bed +of anemones under the windows, at one end of the house; and a bed of +anemones is a treasure in our climate. It was in full bloom in the +morning; and before sunset, every blossom was gone, and the bed was +trampled into ruin. It was dreary work! The two sons live at a distance; +and the house is let to tenants of another name. + +I perceive that I have not noticed the poet's laureateship. The truth +is, the office never seemed to belong to him; and we forgot it, when +not specially reminded of it. We did not like to think of him in +court-dress, going through the ceremonies of levee or ball, in his +old age. His white hair and dim eyes were better at home among the +mountains. + +There stand the mountains, from age to age; and there run the rivers, +with their full and never-pausing tide, while those who came to live and +grow wise beside them are all gone! One after another, they have lain +down to their everlasting rest in the valleys where their step and their +voices were as familiar as the points of the scenery. The region has +changed much since they came as to a retreat. It was they who caused the +change, for the most part; and it was not for them to complain of it; +but the consequence is, that with them has passed away a peculiar +phase of life in England. It is one which can neither be continued +nor repeated. The Lake District is no longer a retreat; and any other +retreat must have different characteristics, and be illumined by some +different order of lights. The case being so, I have felt no scruple in +asking the attention of my readers to a long story, and to full details +of some of the latest Lights of the Lake District. + + + + +PINK AND BLUE. + + +Everybody knows that a _departing_ guest has the most to say. The touch +of the door-knob sends to his lips a thousand things which _must_ be +told. Is it strange, then, that old people, knowing they have "made out +their visit," and feeling themselves brimful of wisdom and experience, +should wish to speak from the fulness of their hearts to those whom they +must so shortly leave? + +Nobody thinks it strange. The world expects it, and, as a general thing, +bears it patiently. Knowing how universal is this spirit of forbearance, +I should, perhaps, have forever held my peace, lest I might abuse +good-nature, had it not been for some circumstances which will be +related a little farther on. + +My little place of business (I am the goldsmith of our village) has long +been the daily resort of several of my particular cronies. They are men +of good minds,--some of them quite literary; for we count, as belonging +to our set, the lawyer, the schoolmaster, the doctor, men of business, +men of no business, and sometimes even the minister. As may be supposed, +our discussions take a wide range: I can give no better notion of _how_ +wide than to say that we discuss everything in the papers. Yesterday +was a snow-storm, but the meeting was held just the same. It was in the +afternoon. The schoolmaster came in late with a new magazine, from which +he read, now and then, for the general edification. + +"Ah!" said he, "if this be true, we can all write for the papers." + +"How's that?" we asked. + +"Why, it says here, that, if the true experience of any human heart were +written, it would be worth more than the best tale ever invented." + +It was a terribly stormy day. The snow came whirling against the two +windows of my shop, clinging to the outside, making it twilight within. +I had given up work; for my eyes are not what they were, and I have to +favor them. Nobody spoke for a while; all had been set to thinking. +Those few words had sent us all back, back, back, thirty, forty, fifty +years, to call up the past. We were gazing upon forms long since +perished, listening to voices long ago hushed forever. Could those forms +have been summoned before us, how crowded would have been my little +shop! Could those voices have been heard, how terrible the discord, the +cries of the wretched mingling with the shouts of the happy ones! There +was a dead silence. The past was being questioned. Would it reply? + +At last some one said,-- + +"Try it." + +"But," said another, "it would fill a whole book." + +"Take up one branch, then; for instance, our--well, our courting-days. +Let each one tell how he won his wife." + +"But shall we get any money by it?" + +"To be sure we shall. Do you think people write for nothing? '_Worth +more_' are the very words used; 'worth more' _what?_ Money, of course." + +"But what shall we do with all our money?" + +"Buy a library for the use of us all. We will draw lots to see who shall +write first; and if he succeeds, the others can follow in order." + +And thus we agreed. + +I was rather sorry the lot fell upon me; for I was always bashful, and +never thought much of myself but once. I think my bashfulness was mostly +owing to my knowing myself to be not very good-looking. I believe that I +am not considered a bad-looking old man; indeed, people who remember me +at twenty-five say that I have grown handsome every year since. + +I do not intend giving a description of myself at that age, but shall +confine myself principally to what was suggested by my friend, as above +mentioned,--namely, how I won my wife. + +It is astonishing how a man may be deluded. Knowing, as I did, just the +facts in the case, regarding my face and figure, yet the last day of the +year 1817 found me in the full belief that I was quite a good-looking +and every way a desirable young man. This was the third article in my +creed. The second was, that Eleanor Sherman loved me; and the first, +that I loved her. It is curious how I became settled in the third +article by means of the second. + +I had spent hours before my looking-glass, trying to make it give in +that I was good-looking. But never was a glass so set in its way. In +vain I used my best arguments, pleaded before it hour after hour, +re-brushed my hair, re-tied my cravat, smiled, bowed, and so forth, and +so forth. "Ill-looking and awkward!" was my only response. At last it +went so far as to intimate that I had, with all the rest, a _conceited_ +look. This was not to be borne, and I withdrew in disgust. The +argument should be carried on in my own heart. Pure reasoning only was +trustworthy. Philosophers assured us that our senses were not to be +trusted. How easy and straightforward the mental process! "Eleanor loves +me; therefore I cannot look ill!" + +It was on the last day of the year I have mentioned, that, just having, +for the fortieth time, arrived at the above conclusion, I prepared to go +forth upon the most delightful of all possible errands. All day I had +been dwelling upon it, wondering at what hour it would be most proper to +go. At three o'clock, I arrayed myself in my Sunday-clothes. I gave a +parting glance of triumph at my glass, and stepped briskly forth upon +the crispy snow. I met people well wrapped up, with mouth and nose +covered, and saw men leave working to thrash their hands. It must have +been cold, therefore; but I felt none of it. + +Her house was half a mile distant. 'T was on a high bank a little back +from the road, of one story in front, and two at the sides. It was what +was called a single house; the front showed only two windows, with a +door near the corner. The sides were painted yellow, the front white, +with a green door. There was an orchard behind, and two poplar-trees +before it. The pathway up the bank was sprinkled with ashes. I had +frequently been as far as the door with her, evenings when I waited upon +her home; but I had never before approached the house by daylight,--that +is, any nearer than the road. I had never _said_ anything; it wasn't +time; but I had given her several little things, and had tried to be her +beau every way that I knew. + +Before I began to notice her, I had never been about much with the +young folks,--partly because I was bashful, and partly because I was so +clumsy-looking. I was more in earnest, therefore, than if I had been +in the habit of running after the girls. After I began to like her, +I watched every motion,--at church, at evening meetings, at +singing-school; and a glance from her eye seemed to fall right upon my +heart. She had been very friendly and sociable with me, always thanked +me very prettily for what little trifles I gave her, and never refused +my company home. She would put her hand within my arm without a moment's +hesitation, chatting all the while, never seeming in the least to +suspect the shiver of joy which shot through my whole frame from the +little hand upon my coat-sleeve. + +I had long been pondering in my mind, in my walks by day and my +lyings-down at night, what should be the next step, what _overt act_ +I might commit; for something told me it was not yet time to _say_ +anything. + +What could have been more fortunate for my wishes, then, than the +project set on foot by the young people, of a grand sleighing-party on +New-Year's evening? They were mostly younger than myself, especially the +girls. Eleanor was but seventeen, I was twenty-three. But I determined +to join this party, and it was to invite Eleanor that I arrayed myself +and set forth, as above mentioned. It was a bold step for a bashful +man,--I mean now the _inviting_ part. + +I had thought over, coming along, just what words I should use; but, as +I mounted the bank, I felt the words, ideas, and all, slipping out at +the ends of my fingers. If it had been a thickly settled place, I should +not have thought much about being watched; but, as there was only +one house in sight, I was sure that not a motion was lost, that my +proceedings would be duly reported, and discussed by the whole village. +All these considerations rendered my situation upon the stone step at +the front-door very peculiar. + +I knew the family were in the back part of the house; for the shutters +of the front-room were tightly closed, as, indeed, they always were, +except on grand occasions. Nevertheless, knocking at the front-door +seemed the right thing to do, and I did it. With a terrible choking in +my throat, and wondering all the while _who_ would come to open, I did +it. I knocked three times. Nobody came. Peddlers, I had observed in like +cases, opened the outside door and knocked at the inner. I tried this +with no better result. I then ventured to open the inner door softly, +and with feelings of awe I stood alone in the spare-room. + +By the light which streamed in through the holes in the tops of the +shutters I distinguished the green painted chairs backed up stiffly +against the wall, the striped homespun carpet, andirons crossed in the +fireplace, with shovel and tongs to match, the big Bible on the table +under the glass, a _waxwork_ on the high mahogany desk in the corner, +and a few shells and other ornaments upon the mantelshelf. + +The terrible order and gloom oppressed me. I felt that it was no slight +thing to venture thus unbidden into the spare-room,--the room set apart +from common uses, and opened only on great occasions: evening-meetings, +weddings, or funerals. But, in the midst of all my tribulation, one +other thought would come,--I don't exactly like to tell it, but then +I believe I promised to keep nothing back;--well, then, if I must,--I +thought that this spare-room was the place where Eleanor would make up +the fire, when--when I was far enough along to come regularly every +Sunday night. With that thought my courage revived. I heard voices in +the next room, the pounding of a flat-iron, and a frequent step across +the floor. I gave a loud rap. The door opened, and Eleanor herself +appeared. She had on a spotted calico gown, with a string of gold beads +around her neck. She held in her hand a piece of fan coral. I felt +myself turning all colors, stammered, hesitated, and believed in my +heart that she would think me a fool. Very likely she did; for I really +suppose that she never, till then, thought that I _meant anything_. + +She contrived, however, to pick out my meaning from the midst of the odd +words and parts of sentences offered her, and replied that she would let +me know that evening. As she did not invite me to the kitchen, the only +thing left me to do was to say good-afternoon and depart. I don't know +which were the queerest,--my feelings in going up or in coming down the +bank. + +When fairly in the road, happening to glance back at the house, I saw +that one half of a shutter was open, and that a man was watching me. He +drew back before I could recognize him. That evening was singing-school. +That was why I went to invite Eleanor in the afternoon. I was afraid +some other fellow would ask her before school was out. + +When I got there, I found all the young folks gathered about the stove. +Something was going on. I pressed in, and found Harry Harlow. He had +been gone a year at sea, and had arrived that forenoon in the stage from +Boston. They were all listening to his wonderful stories. + +When school was over, I stepped up close to Eleanor and offered my arm. +She drew back a little, and handed me a small package. Harry stepped up +on the other side. She took his arm, and they went off slowly together. +I stood still a moment to watch them. When they turned the corner, I +went off alone. Confounded, wonder-struck, I plunged on through the +snow-drifts, seeing, feeling, knowing nothing but the package in my +hand. I found mother sitting by the fire. She and I lived together,--she +and I, and that was all. I knew I should find her with her little round +table drawn up to the fire, her work laid aside, and the Bible open. She +never went to bed with me out. + +I didn't want to tell her. I wouldn't for the world, if I could have had +the opening of my package all to myself. She asked me if I had fastened +the back-door. I sat down by the fire and slowly undid the string. A +silver thimble fell on the bricks. There was also an artificial flower +made of feathers, a copy of verses headed "To a Pair of Bright Eyes," +cut from the county newspaper, a cherry-colored neck-ribbon, a +smelling-bottle, and, at the bottom, a note. I knew well enough what was +in the note. + +"MR. ALLEN,-- + +"I must decline your invitation to the sleigh-ride; and I hope you will +not be offended, if I ask you not to go about with me any more. I think +you are a very good young man, and, as an acquaintance, I like you very +much. + +"Respectfully yours, + +"ELEANOR SHERMAN. + +"P.S.--With this note you will find the things you have given me." + +I took the iron tongs which stood near, picked up the thimble and +dropped it into the midst of the hot coals, then the flower, then the +verses, then the ribbon, then the smelling-bottle, and would gladly have +added myself. + +My mother and I were everything to each other. We two were all that +remained of a large family. I had always confided in her; but still I +was sorry that I had opened the package there. I might have taken it to +my chamber. But then she would have known, she _must_ have known from my +manner, that something was wrong with me. I think, on the whole, I was +glad to have her know the worst. I knew that my mother worshipped me; +but she was not one of those who let their feelings be seen on common +occasions. I gave her the note, and no more was needed. She tried to +comfort me, as mothers will; but I would not be comforted. It was my +first great heart-trouble, and I was weighed down beneath it. She drew +me towards her, I leaned my head upon her shoulder, and was not ashamed +that she knew of the hot tears upon my cheeks. At last I heard her +murmuring softly,-- + +"Oh, what shall I do? He is all I have, and he is so miserable! How can +I bear his sorrow?" + +I think it was the recollection of these words which induced me +afterwards to hide my feelings, that she might not suffer on my account. + +The next day was clear and bright. The sleighing was perfect. I was +miserable. I had not slept. I could not eat. I dared not go into the +village to encounter the jokes which I was certain awaited me there. +Early in the evening, just as the moon rose, I took my stand behind a +clump of trees, half-way up a hill, where I knew the sleighs must pass. + +There I stood, feeling neither cold nor weariness, waiting, watching, +listening for the sleigh-bells. At last I heard them, first faintly, +then louder and louder, until they reached the bottom of the hill. +Slowly they came up, passing, one after another, by my hiding-place. +There were ten sleighs in all. She and Harry were in the fourth. The +moon shone full in their faces, and his looked just as I had often felt; +but I had never dared to show it as Harry did. I felt sure that he would +kiss her. A blue coverlet was wrapped around them, and he was tucking it +in on her side. The hill was steep just there, so that they were obliged +to move quite slowly. They were talking earnestly, and I heard my name. +I was not sure at first; but afterwards I knew. + +"I never thought of his being in earnest before. He is a great deal +older than I, and I never thought that anybody so homely and awkward as +he could suppose"-- + +"Jingle, jingle, jingle," and that was all I heard. I held myself still, +watched the sleighs disappear, one after another, over the brow of the +hill, listened till the last note of the last bell was lost in the +distance, then turned and ran. + +I ran as if I had left my misery behind, and every step were taking me +farther from it. But when I reached home, there it was, aching, aching +in my heart, just the same as before. And there it stayed. Even now, I +can hardly bear to think of those terrible days and nights. But for my +mother's sake I tried to seem cheerful, though I no longer went about +with the young folks. I applied myself closely to my business, sawed my +mother's wood for exercise, learned to paint, and read novels and poetry +for amusement. + +Thus time passed on. The little boys began to call themselves young men, +and me an old _bach_; and into this character I contentedly settled +down. My wild oats, of which I had had but scant measure, I considered +sown. My sense of my own ill-looks became morbid. I hardly looked at a +female except my mother, lest she'd think that I "_could suppose_." +The old set were mostly married off. Eleanor married the young sailor. +People spoke of her as being high-tempered, as being extravagant, +spending in fine clothes the money he earned at the risk of his life. I +don't know that it made any difference to my feelings. It might. At the +time she turned me off, I think I should have married her, knowing she +had those faults. But she removed to the city, and by degrees time and +absence wore off the edge of my grief. My mother lost part of her little +property, and I was obliged to exert myself that she might miss none of +her accustomed comforts. She was a good mother, thoughtful and tender, +sympathizing not only in my troubles, but in my every-day pursuits, my +work, my books, my paintings. + +When I was about thirty, Jane Wood came to live near us. Her mother and +young sister came with her. They rented a small house just across the +next field from us. Although ours, therefore, might have been considered +an infected neighborhood, yet I never supposed myself in the slightest +danger, because I had had the disease. Nevertheless, having an abiding +sense of my own ugliness, I should not have ventured into the immediate +presence of the Woods, _except_ on works of necessity and mercy. + +The younger sister was taken very ill with the typhus fever. It was +customary, in our village, for the neighbors, in such cases, to be very +helpful. Mother was with them day and night, and, when she could not go +herself, used to send me to see if they wanted anything, for they had no +men-folks. + +I seldom saw Jane, and when I did, I never looked at her. I mean, I did +not look her full in the face. It was to her mother that I made all my +offers of assistance. + +This habit of shunning the society of all young females, and +particularly of the Wood girls, was by no means occasioned by any fears +in regard to my own safety. Far from it. I considered myself as one set +apart from all mankind,--set apart, and fenced in, by my own personal +disadvantages. The thought of my caring for a girl, or of being cared +for by a girl, never even occurred to me. "Taboo," so far as I was +concerned, was written upon them all. The marriage state I saw from afar +off. Beautiful and bright it looked in the distance, like the Promised +Land to true believers. Some visions I beheld of its beautiful angels +walking in shining robes; strains of its sweet melody were sometimes +wafted across the distance; but I might never enter there. It was no +land of promise to me. A gulf, dark and impassable, lay between. And +beside all this, as I have already intimated, I considered myself out of +danger. My life's lesson had been learned. I knew it by heart. What more +could be expected of me? + +But, after all, we can't go right against our natures; and it is not the +nature of man to look upon the youthful and the elderly female exactly +in the same light. The feelings with which they are approached are +essentially different, whether he who approaches be seventeen or +seventy. Thus, in conversing with the old lady Wood, I was quite at +my ease. When the invalid began to get well, I often carried her nice +little messes, which my mother prepared, and was generally lucky enough +to find Mrs. Wood,--for I always went in at the back-door. She asked me, +one day, if I could lend Ellen something to read,--for she was then just +about well enough to amuse herself with a book, but not strong enough to +work. Now I always had (so my mother said) a kind and obliging way with +me, and had, besides, a great pride in my library. I was delighted that +anybody wanted to read my books, and hurried home to make a selection. + +That very afternoon, I took over an armful. Nobody was in the kitchen; +so I sat down to wait. The door of the little keeping-room was open, and +I knew by their voices that some great discussion was going on. I tipped +over a cricket to make them aware of my presence. The door was opened +wide, and Mrs. Wood appeared. + +"Now here is Mr. Allen," she exclaimed. "Let us get his opinion." + +Then she took me in, where they were holding solemn council over a straw +bonnet and various colored ribbons. She introduced me to Ellen, whom I +had never before met. She was a merry-looking, black-eyed maiden, and +the roses were already blooming out again upon her cheeks. She was very +young,--not more than fifteen or sixteen. + +"Now, Mr. Allen," said Jane, (she was not so bashful to me as I was to +her,) "let us have your opinion upon these trimmings. Remember, though, +that pink and blue can't go together." + +She turned her face full upon me, and I looked straight into her eyes. +I really believe it was the first time I had done so. They were +beautifully blue, with long dark lashes. She had been a little excited +by the discussion, and her cheeks were like two roses. A strange +boldness came over me. + +"How can I remember that," I answered, "when I see in your face that +pink and blue _do_ go together?" + +Never, till within a few years, could I account for this sudden +boldness. I have now no doubt that I spoke by what spiritualists call +"impression." We were all surprised, and I most of all. Jane laughed, +and looked pinker than before. She would as soon have expected a +compliment from the town pump, and I felt it. + +I knew nothing of bonnets, but I had studied painting, and was a judge +of colors. I made a selection, and could see that they were again +surprised at my good taste. I then offered my books, spoke of the +different authors, turned to what I thought might particularly please +them, and, before I knew it, was all aglow with the unusual excitement +of conversation. I saw that they were not without cultivation, and that +they had a quick appreciation of literary merit. + +And thus an acquaintance commenced. I called often, for it seemed a +pleasant thing to do. As my excuse, I took with me my books, papers, +and all the new publications which reached me. I always thought they +appeared very glad to see me. + +Being strangers in the place, they saw but little company, and it seemed +to be nothing more than my duty to call in now and then in a neighborly +way. I talked quite easily; for among books I felt at home. They talked +easily, too; for they (I say it in no ill-natured way) were women. They +began to consider my frequent calling as a matter of course, and always +smiled upon me when I entered. I felt that they congratulated themselves +upon finding me out. They had penetrated the ice, and found open sea +beyond. I speak of it in this way, because I afterwards overheard Ellen +joking her sister about discovering the Northwest Passage to my heart. + +This was in the fall of the year, when the evenings were getting quite +long. They were fond of reading, but had not much time for it. I was +fond of reading, and had many long evenings at my disposal. It followed, +therefore, that I read aloud, while they worked. With the "Pink and +Blue" just opposite, I read evening after evening. At first I used to +look up frequently, to see how such and such a passage would strike her; +but one evening Ellen asked me, in a laughing, half-saucy sort of way, +why I didn't look at _her_ sometimes to see how _she_ liked things. This +made me color up; and Jane colored up, too. After that I kept my eyes on +my book; but I always knew when she stopped her work and raised her +head at the interesting parts, and always hoped she didn't see the red +flushes spreading over my face, and always wished, too, that she would +look away,--for, somehow, my voice would not go on smoothly. + +Those red flushes were to myself most mysterious. Nevertheless, they +continued, and even appeared to be on the increase. At first, I felt +them only while reading; then, upon entering the room; and at last +they began to come before I got across the field. Still I felt no real +uneasiness, but, on the contrary, was glad I could be of so much use to +the family. Never before was the want of men-folks felt so little by a +family of women-folks. I did errands, split kindling, dug "tracks," (_i. +e._, paths in the snow,) and glued broken furniture. + +I always thought of Jane as "Pink and Blue." Sometimes I thought from +her manner that she would a little rather I wouldn't come so often. I +thought she didn't look up at me so pleasantly as she used to at first, +and seemed a little stiff; but, as I had a majority in my favor, I +continued my visits. I always had one good look at her when I said +good-night; but it made the red come, so that I had to hurry out before +she saw. It seemed to me that her cheeks then looked pinker than ever, +and the two colors, pink and blue, seemed to mingle and float before my +eyes all the way home. "Pink and blue," "pink and blue." How those two +little words kept running in my head, and, I began to fear, in my heart +too!--for no sooner would I close my eyes at night than those delicate +pink cheeks and blue eyes would appear before me. They haunted my +dreams, and were all ready to greet me at waking. + +I was completely puzzled. It reminded me of old times. Seemed just like +being in love again. Could it be possible that I was liable to a second +attack? + +One night I took a new book and hurried across the field to the Woods', +for I never was easy till I saw "Pink and Blue" face to face; and +then,--why, then, I was not at all easy. I felt the red flushes coming +long before I reached the house. As soon as I entered the room, I felt +that she was missing. I must have looked blank; for Mrs. Wood began +to explain immediately, that Jane was not well, and had gone to +bed;--nothing serious; but she had thought it better for her not to +sit up. I remained and read as usual, but, as it seemed to me, to bare +walls. I had become so accustomed to reading with "Pink and Blue" just +opposite, to watching for the dropping of her work and the raising of +her eyes to my face, that I really seemed on this occasion to be reading +to no purpose whatever. I went home earlier than usual, very sober and +very full of thought. My mother noticed it, and inquired if they were +well at Mrs. Wood's. So I told her about Jane. + +That night my eyes were fully opened. I was in love. Yes, the old +disease was upon me, and my last state was worse than my first,--just as +much so as Jane was superior to Eleanor. The discovery threw me into +the greatest distress. Hour after hour I walked the floor, in my own +chamber, trying to reason the love from my heart,--but in vain; and at +length, tossing myself on the bed, I almost cursed the hour in which I +first saw the Woods. I called myself fool, dolt, idiot, for thus running +my head a second time into the noose. It may seem strange, but the +thought that she might possibly care for me never once occurred to my +mind. Eleanor's words in the sleigh still rang in my ears: "I never +thought that anybody so homely and awkward could suppose"--No, I must +not "suppose." Once, in the midst of it all, I calmed down, took a +light, and, very deliberately walking to the glass, took a complete view +of my face and figure,--but with no other effect than to settle me more +firmly in my wretchedness. Towards morning I grew calmer, and resolved +to look composedly upon my condition, and decide what should be done. + +While I was considering whether or not to continue my visits at the +Woods', I fell asleep just where I had thrown myself, outside the bed, +in overcoat and boots. I dreamed of seeing "Pink and Blue" carried off +by some horrid monster,--which, upon examination, proved to be myself. +The sun shining in my face woke me, and I remembered that I had decided +upon nothing. The best thing seemed to be to snap off the acquaintance +and quit the place. But then I could not leave my mother. No, I must +keep where I was,--and if I kept where I was, I must keep on at the +Woods',--and if I kept on at the Woods', I should keep on feeling just +as I did, and perhaps--more so. I resolved, finally, to remain where +I was, and to take no abrupt step, (which might cause remark,) but +to break off my visits gradually. The first week, I could skip one +night,--the next, two,--and so on,--using my own judgment about tapering +off the acquaintance gradually and gracefully to an imperceptible point. +The way appearing plain at last, how that _unloving_ might be made easy, +I assumed a cheerful air, and went down to breakfast. My mother looked +up rather anxiously at my entrance; but her anxiety evidently vanished +at sight of my face. + +It did not seem to me quite right to forsake the Woods that morning; for +some snow had fallen during the night, and I felt it incumbent upon me +to dig somewhat about the doors. With my trousers tucked into my boots, +I trod a new path across the field. It would have seemed strange not to +go in; so I went in and warmed my feet at the kitchen-fire. Only Mrs. +Wood was there; but I made no inquiries. Not knowing what to say, I rose +to go; but, just at that minute, the mischievous Ellen came running out +of the keeping-room and wanted to know where I was going. Why didn't I +come in and see Jane? So I went in to see Jane, saying my prayers, as I +went,--that is, praying that I might not grow foolish again. But I did. +I don't believe any man could have helped it. She was reclining upon +a couch which was drawn towards the fire. I sat down as far from that +couch as the size of the room would allow. She looked pale and really +ill, but raised her blue eyes when she said good-morning; and then--the +hot flushes began to come. She looked red, too, and I thought she had +a settled fever. I wanted to say something, but didn't know what. Some +things seemed too warm, others too cold. At last I thought,--"Why, +_anybody_ can say to anybody, 'How do you do?'" So I said,-- + +"Miss Wood, how do you do, this morning?" + +She looked up, surprised; for I tried hard to stiffen my words, and had +succeeded admirably. + +"Not very unwell, I thank you, Sir," she replied; but I knew she was +worse than the night before. My situation grew unbearable, and I rose to +go. + +"Mr. Allen, what do you think about Jane?" said Ellen. "You know about +sickness, don't you? Come, feel her pulse, and see if she will have a +fever." And she drew me towards the lounge. + +My heart was in my throat, and my face was on fire. Jane flushed up, and +I thought she was offended at my presumption. What could I do? Ellen +held out to me the little soft hand; but I dared not touch it, unless I +asked her first. + +"Miss Wood," I asked, "shall I mind Ellen?" + +"Of course you will," exclaimed Ellen. "Tell him yes, Jane." + +Then Jane smiled and said,-- + +"Yes, if he is willing." + +And I took her wrist in my thumb and finger. The pulse was quick and the +skin dry and hot. I think I would have given a year's existence to clasp +that hand between my own, and to stroke down her hair. I hardly knew how +I didn't do it; and the fear that I should made me drop her arm in +a hurry, as if it had burned my fingers. Ellen stared. I bade them +good-morning abruptly, and left the room and the house. "This, then," I +thought, as I strode along towards the village, "is the beginning of the +ending!" + +That evening, I felt in duty bound to go, as a neighbor, to inquire for +the sick. I went, but found no one below. When Ellen came down, she said +that Jane was quite ill. I remained in the keeping-room all the evening, +mostly alone, asked if I could do anything for them, and obtained some +commissions for the next day at the village. + +Jane's illness, though long, was not dangerous,--at least, not to her. +To me it was most perilous, particularly the convalescence; for then I +could be of so much use to her! The days were long and spring-like. Wild +flowers appeared. She liked them, and I managed that she should never be +without a bunch of them. She liked paintings, and I brought over my own +portfolio. She must have wondered at the number of violets and roses +therein. The readings went on and seemed more delicious than ever. I +owned a horse and chaise, and for a whole week debated whether it would +be safe for me to take her to drive. But I didn't; for I should have +been obliged to hand her in, to help her out, and to sit close beside +her all alone. All that could never be done without my betraying myself. +But she got well without any drives; and by the latter part of April, +when the evenings had become very short, I thought it high time to begin +to skip one. I began on Monday. I kept away all day, all the evening, +and all the next day. Tuesday evening, just before dark, I took the path +across the field. The two girls were at work making a flower-garden. +"Pink and Blue" had a spade, and was actually spading up the ground. I +caught it from her hand so quickly that she looked up almost frightened. +Her face was flushed with exercise; but her blue eyes looked tired. How +I reproached myself for not coming sooner! At dark, I went in with them. +We took our accustomed seats, and I read. "Paradise regained" was what I +kept thinking of. Once, when I moved my seat, that I might be directly +opposite Jane, who was lying on the coach, I thought I saw Ellen and her +mother exchange glances. I was suspected, then,--and with all the pains +I had taken, too. This rather upset me; and what with my joy at being +with Jane, my exertions to hide it, and my mortification at being +discovered, my reading, I fear, was far from satisfactory. + +The next morning I went early to the flower-garden, and, before anybody +was stirring, had it all hoed and raked over, so that no more hard work +could be done there. I didn't go in. Thursday night I went again, and +again Saturday night. The next week I skipped two evenings, and the +next, three, and flattered myself I was doing bravely. Jane never asked +me why I came so seldom, but Ellen did frequently; and I always replied +that I was very busy. Those were truly days of suffering. Nevertheless, +having formed my resolution, I determined to abide by it. God only knew +what it cost me. On the beautiful May mornings, and during the long +"after tea," which always comes into country-life, I could watch them, +watch her, from my window, while the planting, watering, and weeding +went on in the flower-garden. I saw them go in at dark, saw the light +appear in the keeping-room, and fancied them sitting at their work, +wondering, perhaps, that nobody came to read to them. + +One day, when I had not been there for three days and nights, I +received, while at work in my shop, a sudden summons from home. My +mother, the little boy said, was very sick. I hurried home in great +agitation. I could not bear the thought that sickness or death should +reach my dear mother. Mrs. Wood met me at the door, to say that a +physician had been sent for, but that my mother was relieved and there +was no immediate danger. I hurried to her chamber and found--Jane by +her bedside. For all my anxiety about my mother, I felt the hot flush +spreading over my face. It seemed so good to see her taking care of my +mother! In my agitation, I caught hold of her hand and spoke before I +thought. + +"Oh, Jane," I whispered, "I am so glad you are here!" + +Her face turned as red as fire. I thought she was angry at my boldness, +or, perhaps, because I called her Jane. + +"Excuse me," said I. "I am so agitated about mother that I hardly know +what I am about." + +When the doctor came, he gave hopes that my mother would recover; but +she never did. She suffered little, but grew weaker and weaker every +day. Jane was with her day and night; for my mother liked her about her +bed better than anybody. Oh, what a strange two weeks were those! My +mother was so much to me, how could I give her up? She was the only +person on earth who cared for me, and she must die! Yet side by side in +my heart with this great grief was the great joy of living, day after +day, night after night, under the same roof with Jane. By necessity +thrown constantly with her, feeling bound to see that she, too, did not +get sick, with watching and weariness,--yet feeling myself obliged to +measure my words, to keep up an unnatural stiffness, lest I should break +down, and she know all my weakness! + +At last all was over,--my mother was dead. It is of no use,--I never can +put into words the frenzied state of my feelings at that time. I had not +even the poor comfort of grieving like other people. I ground my teeth +and almost cursed myself, when the feeling would come that sorrow for +my mother's death was mingled with regrets that there was no longer any +excuse for my remaining in the same neighborhood with Jane. I reproached +myself with having made my mother's death-bed a place of happiness; for +my conscience told me that those two weeks had been, in one sense, the +happiest of my life. + +By what I then experienced I knew that our connection must be broken off +entirely. Half-way work had already been tried too long. Sitting by the +dead body of my mother, gazing upon that face which, ever since I could +remember, had reflected my own joys and sorrows, I resolved to decide +once for all upon my future course. I was without a single tie. In all +the wide world, not a person cared whether I lived or died. One part of +the wide world, then, was as good for me as another. There was but one +little spot where I must not remain; all the rest was free to me. I took +the map of the world. I was a little past thirty, healthy, and should +probably, accidents excepted, live out the time allotted to man. I +divided the land mapped out before me into fifteen portions. I would +live two years in each; then, being an old man, I would gradually draw +nearer to this forbidden "little spot," inquire what had become of the +Woods, and settle down in the same little house, patiently to await my +summons. My future life being thus all mapped out, I arose with calmness +to perform various little duties which yet remained to be done before +the funeral could take place. + +Beautiful flowers were in the room; a few white ones were at my mother's +breast. Jane brought them. She had done everything, and I had not even +thanked her. How could I, in that stiff way I had adopted towards her? + +My father was buried beneath an elm-tree, at the farthest corner of the +garden. I had my mother laid by his side. When the funeral was over, +Mrs. Wood and her daughters remained at the house to arrange matters +somewhat, and to give directions to the young servant, who was now my +only housekeeper. At one time I was left alone with Jane; the others +were up stairs. Feeling that any emotion on my part might reasonably be +attributed to my affliction, I resolved to thank her for her kindness. I +rushed suddenly up to her, and, seizing her hand, pressed it between my +own. + +"I want to thank you, Jane," I began, "but--I cannot." + +And I could not, for I trembled all over, and something choked me so +that I could not speak more. + +"Oh, don't, Mr. Allen!" she said; and the tone in which she uttered the +words startled me. + +It seemed as if they came from the very depths of her being. Feeling +that I could not control myself, I rushed out and gained my own chamber. +What passed there between myself and my great affliction can never be +told. + +In a week's time all was ready for my departure. I gave away part of the +furniture to some poor relations of my father's. My mother's clothing +and the silver spoons, which were marked with her maiden name, I locked +up in a trunk, and asked Mrs. Wood to take care of it. She inquired +where I was going, and I said I didn't know. I didn't, for I was not to +decide until I reached Boston. I think she thought my mind was impaired +by grief, and it was. I spent the last evening there. They knew I was to +start the next forenoon in the stage, and they really seemed very sober. +No reading was thought of. Jane had her knitting-work, and Mrs. Wood +busied herself about her mending. The witchy little Ellen was quite +serious. She sat in a low chair by the fire, sometimes stirring up the +coals and sometimes the conversation. Jane appeared restless. I feared +she was overwearied with watching and her long attendance on my mother, +for her face was pale and she had a headache. She left the room several +times. I felt uneasy while she was out; but no less so when she came +back,--for there was a strange look about her eyes. + +At last I summoned all my courage and rose to depart. + +"I will not say good-bye," I said, in a strange, hollow voice; "I will +only shake hands, and bid you good-night." + +I shook hands with them all,--Jane last. Her hand was as cold as clay. I +dared not try to speak, but rushed abruptly from the house. Another long +night of misery! + +When I judged, from the sounds below stairs, that my little servant had +breakfast ready, I went down and forced myself to eat; for I was feeling +deathly faint, and knew I needed food. I gave directions for the +disposition of some remaining articles, and for closing the house, then +walked rapidly towards the public-house in the village, where my trunks +had already been carried. I was very glad that I should not have to pass +the Woods'. I saw the girls out in their garden just before I left, and +took a last long look, but was sorry I did; it did me no good. + +I was to go to Boston in the stage, and then take a vessel to New York, +whence I might sail for any part of the world. When I arrived at the +tavern, the Boston stage was just in, and the driver handed me a letter. +It was from the mate of the vessel, saying that his sailing would be +delayed two days, and requesting me to take a message from him to his +family, who lived in a small village six miles back from what was called +the stage-road. I went on horseback, performed my errand, dined with the +family, and returned at dark to the inn. After supper, it occurred to me +to go to the Woods' and surprise them. I wanted to see just what they +were doing, and just how they looked,--just how _she_ looked. But a +moment's reflection convinced me that I had much better not. But be +quiet I could not, and I strolled out of the back-door of the inn, and +so into a wide field behind. There was a moon, but swift dark clouds +were flying across it, causing alternate light and shadow. I strayed +on through field and meadow, hardly knowing whither I went, yet with a +half-consciousness that I should find myself at the end by my mother's +grave. I felt, therefore, no surprise when I saw that I was approaching, +through a field at the back of my garden, the old elm-tree. As I drew +near the grave, the moon, appearing from behind a cloud, showed me the +form of a woman leaning against the tree. She wore no bonnet,--nothing +but a shawl thrown over her head. Her face was turned from me, but I +knew those features, even in the indistinct moonlight, and my heart gave +a sudden leap, as I pressed eagerly forward. She turned in affright, +half screamed, half ran, then, recognizing me, remained still as a +statue. + +"Mr. Allen, you here? I thought you were gone," she said, at last. + +"Jane, you here?" said I. "You ought not; the night is damp; you will +get sick." + +Nevertheless, I went on talking, told what had detained me, described +my journey and visit, and inquired after her family, as if I had been a +month absent. I never talked so easily before; for I knew she was not +looking in my face, and forgot how my voice might betray me. I spoke of +my mother, of how much she was to me, of my utter loneliness, and even +of my plans for the future. + +"But I am keeping you too long," I exclaimed, at last; "this evening air +is bad; you must go home." + +I walked along with her, up through the garden, and along the road +towards her house. I did not offer my arm, for I dared not trust myself +so near. The evening wind was cool, and I took off my hat to let it blow +upon my forehead, for my head was hot and my brain in a whirl. We came +to a stop at the gate, beneath an apple-tree, then in full bloom. I +think now that my mind at that time was not--exactly sound. The severe +mental discipline which I had forced upon myself, the long striving to +subdue the strongest feelings of a man's heart, together with my real +heart-grief at my mother's death, were enough, certainly, to craze any +one. I _was_ crazy; for I only meant to say "Good-bye," but I said, +"Good-bye, Jane; I would give the world to stay, but I must go." I +thought I was going to take her hand; but, instead of that, I took her +face between my own two hands, and turned it up towards mine. First I +kissed her cheeks. "That is for the pink," I said. Then her eyes. "And +that is for the blue. And now I go. You won't care, will you, Jane, that +I kissed you? I shall never trouble you any more; you know you will +never see me again. Good-bye, Jane!" + +I grasped her hand tightly and turned away. I thought I was off, but she +did not let go my hand. I paused, as if to hear what she had to say. She +had hitherto spoken but little; she had no need, for I had talked with +all the rapidity of insanity. She tried to speak now, but her voice was +husky, and she almost whispered. + +"Why do you go?" she asked. + +"Because I _must_, Jane," I replied. "I _must_ go." + +"And _why_ must you go?" she asked. + +"Oh, Jane, don't ask me why I must go; you wouldn't, if you knew"-- + +There I stopped. She spoke again. There was a strange tone in her voice, +and I could feel that she was trembling all over. + +"_Don't_ go, Henry." + +Never before had she called me Henry, and this, together with her strong +emotion and the desire she expressed for me to stay, shot a bright +thought of joy through my soul. It was the very first moment that I +had entertained the possibility of her caring for me. I seemed another +being. Strange thoughts flashed like lightning across my mind. My +resolve was taken. + +"Who cares whether I go or stay?" I asked. + +"_I_ care," said she. + +I took both her hands in mine, and, looking full in her face, said, in a +low voice,-- + +"Jane, _how much_ do you care?" + +"A whole heart full," she replied, in a voice as low and as earnest as +my own. + +She was leaning on the fence; I leaned back beside her, for I grew sick +and faint, thinking of the great joy that might be coming. + +"Jane," said I, solemnly, "you wouldn't _marry me_, would you?" + +"Certainly not," she replied. "How can I, when you have never asked me?" + +"Jane," said I, and my voice sounded strange even to myself, "I hope you +are not trifling;--you never would dare, did you know the state I am in, +that I _have_ been in for--oh, so long! But I can't have hidden all my +love. Can't you see how my life almost is hanging upon your answer? +Jane, do you love me, and will you be my wife?" + +"Henry," she replied, softly, but firmly, "I _do_ love you. I have loved +you a long, long time, and I shall be proud to be your wife, if--you +think me worthy." + +It was more than I could bear. The sleepless nights, the days of almost +entire fasting, together with all my troubles, had been too much for me. +I was weak in body and in mind. + +"Oh, Jane!" was all I could say. Then, leaning my head upon her +shoulder, I cried like a child. It didn't seem childish then. + +"Oh, but, Henry, I won't, then, if you feel so badly about it," said +she, half laughing. Then, changing her tone, she begged me to become +calm. But in vain. The barriers were broken down, and the tide of +emotion, long suppressed, must gush forth. She evidently came to this +conclusion. She stood quiet and silent, and at last began timidly +stroking my hair. I shall never forget the first touch of her hand upon +my forehead. It soothed me, or else my emotion was spent; for, after a +while, I became quite still. + +"Oh, Jane," I whispered, "my sorrow I could bear; but this strange +happiness overwhelms me. Can it be true? Oh, it is a fearful thing to be +so happy! How came you to love me, Jane? You are so beautiful, and I--I +am so"---- + +"You are so good, Henry!" she exclaimed, earnestly,--"too good for me! +You are a true-hearted, noble soul, worthy the love of any woman. If you +weren't so bashful," she continued, in a lower tone, "I should not say +so much; but--do you suppose nobody is happy but yourself? There is +somebody who scarcely more than an hour ago was weeping bitter tears, +feeling that the greatest joy of her life was gone forever. But now her +joy has returned to her, her heart is glad, she trembles with happiness. +Oh, Henry, 'it is a fearful thing to be so happy!'" + +I could not answer; so I drew her close up to me. She was mine now, and +why should I not press her closely to my heart,--that heart so brimful +of love for her? There was a little bench at the foot of the apple-tree, +and there I made her sit down by me and answer the many eager questions +I had to ask. I forgot all about the dampness and the evening air. +She told how her mother had liked me from the first,--how they were +informed, by some few acquaintances they had made in the village, of my +early disappointment, and also of the peculiar state of mind into which +I was thrown by those early troubles; but when she began to love me she +couldn't tell. She had often thought I cared for her,--mentioned the day +when I found her at my mother's bedside, also the day of the funeral; +but so well had I controlled my feelings that she was never sure until +that night. + +"I trust you will not think me unmaidenly, Henry," said she, looking +timidly up in my face. "You won't think worse of me, will you, for--for +almost offering myself to you?" + +There was but one answer to this, and I failed not to give it. 'Twas a +very earnest answer, and she drew back a little. Her voice grew lower +and lower, while she told how, at my shaking hands the night before, she +almost fainted,--how she longed to say "Stay," but dared not, for I was +so stiff and cold: how could she say, "Don't go, Mr. Allen; please stay +and marry me"?--how she passed a wretched night and day, and walked out +at evening to be alone,--how she felt that she could go nowhere but to +my mother's grave,--and, finally, how overwhelmed with joy she was when +I came upon her so suddenly. + +All this she told me, speaking softly and slowly, for which I was +thankful; for I liked to feel the sweet words of healing, dropping one +by one upon my heart. + +In the midst of our talk, we heard the front-door of the house open. + +"They are coming to look for me," said Jane. "You will go in?" + +Hand in hand we walked up the pathway. We met Ellen half-way down. She +started with surprise at seeing me. + +"Why, Mr. Allen!" she exclaimed, "I thought you a hundred miles off. +Why, Jane, mother was afraid you had fallen down the well." + +She tripped gayly into the house. + +"Mother!" she called out,--"you sent me for one, and I have brought you +two." + +Jane and I walked in hand in hand; for I would not let her go. Her +mother looked surprised, but well pleased. + +"Mrs. Wood," said I, "Jane has asked me to stay, and I am going to." + +Nothing more was needed; our faces told the rest. + +"Now Heaven be praised," she replied, "that we are still to have you +with us! I could not help thinking, that, if you only knew how much we +cared for you, you would not have been in such a hurry to leave us." And +she glanced significantly towards Jane. + +The rest of the evening was spent in the most interesting explanations. +I passed the night at the village inn, as I had intended,--passed it, +not in sleep, but in planning and replanning, and in trying to persuade +myself that "Pink and Blue" was my own to keep. + +The next day I spent at the Woods'. It was the first really happy day of +my life. In the afternoon, I took a long walk with Jane, through green +lanes, and orchards white and fragrant with blossoms. In the evening, +the family assembled, and we held sweet council together. It was decided +unanimously, that, situated as I was, there was no reason for delaying +the wedding,--that I should repossess myself of the furniture I had +given away, by giving new in exchange, the old being dearer to both Jane +and myself,--and, finally, that our wedding should be very quiet, and +should take place as soon as Jane could be got ready. Through it all I +sat like one in a dream, assenting to everything, for everything seemed +very desirable. + +As soon as possible, I reopened my house, and established myself there +with the same little servant. It took Jane about a month to get ready, +and it took me some years to feel wholly my own happiness. + +The old house is still standing; but after Mrs. Wood died, and Ellen was +married, we moved into the village; for the railroad came very near us, +cutting right through the path "across the field." I had the bodies of +my father and mother removed to the new cemetery. + +My wife has been to me a lifelong blessing, my heart's joy and comfort. +They who have not tried it can never know how much love there is in a +woman's heart. The pink still lingers on her cheek, and her blue eye has +that same expression which so bewitched me in my younger days. The spell +has never been broken. I am an old man and she is an old woman, and, +though I don't do it before folks, lest they call us two old fools, yet, +when I come in and find her all alone, I am free to own that I do hug +and kiss her, and always mean to. If anybody is inclined to laugh, let +him just come and see how beautiful she is. + +Our sons are away now, and all our daughters are married but one. I'm +glad they haven't taken her,--she looks so much as her mother did when I +first knew her. Her name is Jane Wood Allen. She goes in the village by +the name of Jennie Allen; but I like Jane better,--Jane Wood. + +That is a true account of "How I won my wife." + + + + +POMEGRANATE-FLOWERS. + + + The street was narrow, close, and dark, + And flanked with antique masonry, + The shelving eaves left for an ark + But one long strip of summer sky. + But one long line to bless the eye-- + The thin white cloud lay not so high, + Only some brown bird, skimming nigh, + From wings whence all the dew was dry + Shook down a dream of forest scents, + Of odorous blooms and sweet contents, + Upon the weary passers-by. + + Ah, few but haggard brows had part + Below that street's uneven crown, + And there the murmurs of the mart + Swarmed faint as hums of drowsy noon. + With voices chiming in quaint tune + From sun-soaked hulls long wharves adown, + The singing sailors rough and brown + Won far melodious renown, + Here, listening children ceasing play, + And mothers sad their well-a-way, + In this old breezy sea-board town. + + Ablaze on distant banks she knew, + Spreading their bowls to catch the sun, + Magnificent Dutch tulips grew + With pompous color overrun. + By light and snow from heaven won + Their misty web azaleas spun; + Low lilies pale as any nun, + Their pensile bells rang one by one; + And spicing all the summer air + Gold honeysuckles everywhere + Their trumpets blew in unison. + + Than where blood-cored carnations stood + She fancied richer hues might be, + Scents rarer than the purple hood + Curled over in the fleur-de-lis. + Small skill in learned names had she, + Yet whatso wealth of land or sea + Had ever stored her memory, + She decked its varied imagery + Where, in the highest of the row + Upon a sill more white than snow, + She nourished a pomegranate-tree. + + Some lover from a foreign clime, + Some roving gallant of the main, + Had brought it on a gay spring-time, + And told her of the nacar stain + The thing would wear when bloomed again. + Therefore all garden growths in vain + Their glowing ranks swept through her brain, + The plant was knit by subtile chain + To all the balm of Southern zones, + The incenses of Eastern thrones, + The tinkling hem of Aaron's train. + + The almond shaking in the sun + On some high place ere day begin, + Where winds of myrrh and cinnamon + Between the tossing plumes have been, + It called before her, and its kin + The fragrant savage balaustine + Grown from the ruined ravelin + That tawny leopards couch them in; + But this, if rolling in from seas + It only caught the salt-fumed breeze, + Would have a grace they might not win. + + And for the fruit that it should bring, + One globe she pictured, bright and near, + Crimson, and throughly perfuming + All airs that brush its shining sphere. + In its translucent atmosphere + Afrite and Princess reappear,-- + Through painted panes the scattered spear + Of sunrise scarce so warm and clear,-- + And pulped with such a golden juice, + Ambrosial, that one cannot choose + But find the thought most sumptuous cheer. + + Of all fair women she was queen, + And all her beauty, late and soon, + O'ercame you like the mellow sheen + Of some serene autumnal noon. + Her presence like a sweetest tune + Accorded all your thoughts in one. + Than last year's alder-tufts in June + Browner, yet lustrous as a moon + Her eyes glowed on you, and her hair + With such an air as princes wear + She trimmed black-braided in a crown. + + A perfect peace prepared her days, + Few were her wants and small her care, + No weary thoughts perplexed her ways, + She hardly knew if she were fair. + + Bent lightly at her needle there + In that small room stair over stair, + All fancies blithe and debonair + She deftly wrought on fabrics rare, + All clustered moss, all drifting snow, + All trailing vines, all flowers that blow, + Her daedal fingers laid them bare. + + Still at the slowly spreading leaves + She glanced up ever and anon, + If yet the shadow of the eaves + Had paled the dark gloss they put on. + But while her smile like sunlight shone, + The life danced to such blossom blown + That all the roses ever known, + Blanche of Provence, Noisette, or Yonne, + Wore no such tint as this pale streak + That damasked half the rounding cheek + Of each bud great to bursting grown. + + And when the perfect flower lay free, + Like some great moth whose gorgeous wings + Fan o'er the husk unconsciously, + Silken, in airy balancings,-- + She saw all gay dishevellings + Of fairy flags, whose revellings + Illumine night's enchanted rings. + So royal red no blood of kings + She thought, and Summer in the room + Sealed her escutcheon on their bloom, + In the glad girl's imaginings. + + Now, said she, in the heart of the woods + The sweet south-winds assert their power, + And blow apart the snowy snoods + Of trilliums in their thrice-green bower. + Now all the swamps are flushed with dower + Of viscid pink, where, hour by hour, + The bees swim amorous, and a shower + Reddens the stream where cardinals tower. + Far lost in fern of fragrant stir + Her fancies roam, for unto her + All Nature came in this one flower. + + Sometimes she set it on the ledge + That it might not be quite forlorn + Of wind and sky, where o'er the edge, + Some gaudy petal, slowly borne, + Fluttered to earth in careless scorn, + Caught, for a fallen piece of morn + From kindling vapors loosely shorn, + By urchins ragged and wayworn, + Who saw, high on the stone embossed, + A laughing face, a hand that tossed + A prodigal spray just freshly torn. + + What wizard hints across them fleet,-- + These heirs of all the town's thick sin, + Swift gypsies of the tortuous street, + With childhood yet on cheek and chin! + What voices dropping through the din + An airy murmuring begin,-- + These floating flakes, so fine and thin, + Were they and rock-laid earth akin? + Some woman of the gods was she, + The generous maiden in her glee? + And did whole forests grow within? + + A tissue rare as the hoar-frost, + White as the mists spring dawns condemn, + The shadowy wrinkles round her lost, + She wrought with branch and anadem, + Through the fine meshes netting them, + Pomegranate-flower and leaf and stem. + Dropping it o'er her diadem + To float below her gold-stitched hem, + Some duchess through the court should sail + Hazed in the cloud of this white veil, + As when a rain-drop mists a gem. + + Her tresses once when this was done, + --Vanished the skein, the needle bare,-- + She dressed with wreaths vermilion + Bright as a trumpet's dazzling blare. + Nor knew that in Queen Dido's hair, + Loading the Carthaginian air, + Ancestral blossoms flamed as fair + As any ever hanging there. + While o'er her cheek their scarlet gleam + Shot down a vivid varying beam, + Like sunshine on a brown-bronzed pear. + + And then the veil thrown over her, + The vapor of the snowy lace + Fell downward, as the gossamer + Tossed from the autumn winds' wild race + Falls round some garden-statue's grace. + Beneath, the blushes on her face + Fled with the Naiad's shifting chase + When flashing through a watery space. + And in the dusky mirror glanced + A splendid phantom, where there danced + All brilliances in paler trace. + + A spicery of sweet perfume, + As if from regions rankly green + And these rich hoards of bud and bloom, + Lay every waft of air between. + Out of some heaven's unfancied screen + The gorgeous vision seemed to lean. + The Oriental kings have seen + Less beauty in their daïs-queen, + And any limner's pencil then + Had drawn the eternal love of men, + But twice Chance will not intervene. + + For soon with scarce a loving sigh + She lifts it off half unaware, + While through the clinging folds held high, + Arachnean in a silver snare + Her rosy fingers nimbly fare, + Till gathered square with dainty care. + But still she leaves the flowery flare + --Such as Dame Venus' self might wear-- + Where first she placed them, since they blow + More bounteous color hanging so, + And seem more native to the air. + + Anon the mellow twilight came + With breath of quiet gently freed + From sunset's felt but unseen flame. + Then by her casement wheeled in speed + Strange films, and half the wings indeed + That steam in rainbows o'er the mead, + Now magnified in mystery, lead + Great revolutions to her heed. + And leaning out, the night o'erhead, + Wind-tossed in many a shining thread, + Hung one long scarf of glittering brede. + + Then as it drew its streamers there, + And furled its sails to fill and flaunt + Along fresh firmaments of air + When ancient morn renewed his chant,-- + She sighed in thinking on the plant + Drooping so languidly aslant; + Fancied some fierce noon's forest-haunt + Where wild red things loll forth and pant, + Their golden antlers wave, and still + Sigh for a shower that shall distil + The largess gracious nights do grant. + + The oleanders in the South + Drape gray hills with their rose, she thought, + The yellow-tasselled broom through drouth + Bathing in half a heaven is caught. + Jasmine and myrtle flowers are sought + By winds that leave them fragrance-fraught. + To them the wild bee's path is taught, + The crystal spheres of rain are brought, + Beside them on some silent spray + The nightingales sing night away, + The darkness wooes them in such sort. + + But this, close shut beneath a roof, + Knows not the night, the tranquil spell, + The stillness of the wildwood ouphe, + The magic dropped on moor and fell. + No cool dew soothes its fiery shell, + Nor any star, a red sardel, + Swings painted there as in a well. + Dyed like a stream of muscadel + No white-skinned snake coils in its cup + To drink its soul of sweetness up, + A honeyed hermit in his cell. + + No humming-bird in emerald coat, + Shedding the light, and bearing fain + His ebon spear, while at his throat + The ruby corselet sparkles plain, + On wings of misty speed astain + With amber lustres, hangs amain, + And tireless hums his happy strain; + Emperor of some primeval reign, + Over the ages sails to spill + The luscious juice of this, and thrill + Its very heart with blissful pain. + + As if the flowers had taken flight + Or as the crusted gems should shoot + From hidden hollows, or as the light + Had blossomed into prisms to flute + Its secret that before was mute, + Atoms where fire and tint dispute, + No humming-birds here hunt their fruit. + No burly bee with banded suit + Here dusts him, no full ray by stealth + Sifts through it stained with warmer wealth + Where fair fierce butterflies salute. + + Nor night nor day brings to my tree, + She thought, the free air's choice extremes, + But yet it grows as joyfully + And floods my chamber with its beams, + So that some tropic land it seems + Where oranges with ruddy gleams, + And aloes, whose weird flowers the creams + Of long rich centuries one deems, + Wave through the softness of the gloom,-- + And these may blush a deeper bloom + Because they gladden so my dreams. + + The sudden street-lights in moresque + Broke through her tender murmuring, + And on her ceiling shades grotesque + Reeled in a bacchanalian swing. + Then all things swam, and like a ring + Of bubbles welling from a spring + Breaking in deepest coloring + Flower-spirits paid her minist'ring. + Sleep, fusing all her senses, soon + Fanned over her in drowsy rune + All night long a pomegranate wing. + + * * * * * + + +THE PRAIRIE STATE. + + +On the head-waters of the Wabash, near Lake Erie, we first meet with +those grassy plains to which the early French explorers of the West gave +the name of Prairies. In Southern Michigan, they become more frequent; +in the State of Indiana, still more so; and when we arrive in Illinois, +we find ourselves in the Prairie State proper, three-quarters of its +territory being open meadow, or prairie. Southern Wisconsin is partly of +this character, and, on crossing the Mississippi, most of the surface of +both Iowa and Minnesota is also prairie. + +Illinois, with little exception, is one vast prairie,--dotted, it is +true, with groves, and intersected with belts of timber, but still one +great open plain. This State, then, being the type of the prairie lands, +a sketch of its history, political, physical, and agricultural, will +tolerably well represent that of the whole prairie region. + +The State of Illinois was originally part of Florida, and belonged to +Spain, by the usual tenure of European title in the sixteenth century, +when the King of France or Spain was endowed by His Holiness with half +a continent; the rights of the occupants of the soil never for a moment +being considered. So the Spaniard, in 1541, having planted his flag at +the mouth of the Mississippi, became possessed of the whole of the vast +region watered by its tributary streams, and Illinois and Wisconsin +became Spanish colonies, and all their native inhabitants vassals of His +Most Catholic Majesty. The settlement of the country was, however, +never attempted by the Spaniards, who devoted themselves to their more +lucrative colonies in South America. + +The French missionaries and fur-traders found their way from Canada into +these parts at an early day; and in 1667 Robert de la Salle made his +celebrated explorations, in which he took possession of the territory of +Illinois in behalf of the French crown. And here we may remark, that the +relations of the Jesuits and early explorers give a delightful picture +of the native inhabitants of the prairies. Compared with their savage +neighbors, the Illini seem to have been a favored people. The climate +was mild, and the soil so fertile as to afford liberal returns even to +their rude husbandry; the rivers and lakes abounded in fish and fowl; +the groves swarmed with deer and turkeys,--bustards the French called +them, after the large gallinaceous bird which they remembered on the +plains of Normandy; and the vast expanse of the prairies was blackened +by herds of wild cattle, or buffaloes. The influence of this fair and +fertile land seems to have been felt by its inhabitants. They came to +meet Father Marquette, offering the calumet, brilliant with many-colored +plumes, with the gracious greeting,--"How beautiful is the sun, O +Frenchman, when thou comest to us! Thou shalt enter in peace all our +dwellings." A very different reception from that offered by the stern +savages of Jamestown and Plymouth to John Smith and Miles Standish! +So, in peace and plenty, remained for many years this paradise in the +prairies. + +About the year 1700, Illinois was included in Louisiana, and came under +the sway of Louis XIV., who, in 1712, presented to Anthony Crozat the +whole territory of Louisiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin,--a truly royal +gift! + +The fortunate recipient, however, having spent vast sums upon the +territory without any returns, surrendered his grant to the crown a +few years afterwards; and a trading company, called the Company of the +Indies, was got up by the famous John Law, on the basis of these lands. +The history of that earliest of Western land-speculations is too well +known to need repetition; suffice it to say, that it was conducted upon +a scale of magnificence in comparison with which our modern imitations +in 1836 and 1856 were feeble indeed. A monument of it stood not many +years ago upon the banks of the Mississippi, in the ruins of Fort +Chartres, which was built by Law when at the height of his fortune, at +a cost of several millions of livres, and which toppled over into the +river in a recent inundation. + +In 1759 the French power in North America was broken forever by Wolfe, +upon the Plains of Abraham; and in 1763, by the Treaty of Paris, all the +French possessions upon this continent were ceded to England, and the +territory of the Illinois became part of the British empire. + +Pontiac, the famous Ottawa chief, after fighting bravely on the French +side through the war, refused to be transferred with the territory; he +repaired to Illinois, where he was killed by a Peoria Indian. His tribe, +the Ottawas, with their allies, the Pottawattomies and Chippewas, +in revenge, made war upon the Peorias and their confederates, the +Kaskaskias and Cahoklas, in which contest these latter tribes were +nearly exterminated. + +At this time, the French population of Illinois amounted to about three +thousand persons, who were settled along the Mississippi and Illinois +rivers, where their descendants remain to this day, preserving a +well-defined national character in the midst of the great flood of +Anglo-American immigration which rolls around them. + +Illinois remained under British rule till the year 1778, when George +Rogers Clarke, with four companies of Virginia rangers, marched from +Williamsburg, a distance of thirteen hundred miles, through a hostile +wilderness, captured the British posts of Kaskaskia and Cahokia, and +annexed a territory larger than Great Britain to the new Republic. Many +of Colonel Clarke's rangers, pleased with the beauty and fertility of +the country, settled in Illinois; but the Indians were so numerous and +hostile, that the settlers were obliged to live in fortified stations, +or block-houses, and the population remained very scanty for many years. + +In 1809 Illinois was made into a separate Territory, and Ninian Edwards +appointed its first Governor. + +During the War of 1812, Tecumseh, an Indian chief of remarkable ability, +endeavored to form a coalition of all the tribes against the Americans, +but with only partial success. He inflicted severe losses upon them, +but was finally defeated and slain at the Battle of the Thames, leaving +behind him the reputation of being the greatest hero and noblest patriot +of his race. + +In 1818, Illinois, then having a population of about forty-five +thousand, was admitted into the Union. The State was formed out of that +territory which by the Ordinance of 1787 was dedicated to freedom; but +there was a strong party in the State who wished for the introduction +of slavery, and in order to effect this it was necessary to call a +convention to amend the Constitution. On this arose a desperate contest +between the two principles, and it ended in the triumph of freedom. +Among those opposed to the introduction of slavery were Morris Birkbeck, +Governor Coles, David Blackwell, Judge Lockwood, and Daniel P. Cook. +It was a fitting memorial of the latter, that the County of Cook, +containing the great commercial city of Chicago, should bear his name. +The names of the pro-slavery leaders we will leave to oblivion. + +In 1824 the lead mines near Galena began to be worked to advantage, +and thousands of persons from Southern Illinois and Missouri swarmed +thither. The Illinoisans ran up the river in the spring, worked in the +mines during the summer, and returned to their homes down the river in +the autumn,--thus resembling in their migrations the fish so common in +the Western waters, called the Sucker. It was also observed that great +hordes of uncouth ruffians came up to the mines from Missouri, and it +was therefore said that she had vomited forth all her worst population. +Thenceforth the Missourians were called "Pukes," and the people of +Illinois "Suckers." + +From 1818 to 1830, the commerce of the State made but small progress. +At this time, there were one or two small steamboats upon the Illinois +River, but most of the navigation was carried on in keel-boats. The +village merchants were mere retailers; they purchased no produce, except +a few skins and furs, and a little beeswax and honey. The farmers along +the rivers did their own shipping,--building flat-boats, which, having +loaded with corn, flour, and bacon, they would float down to New +Orleans, which was the only market accessible to them. The voyage was +long, tedious, and expensive, and when the farmer arrived, he found +himself in a strange city, where all were combined against him, and +often he was cheated out of his property,--returning on foot by a long +and dangerous journey to a desolate farm, which had been neglected +during his absence. Thus two crops were sometimes lost in taking one to +market. + +The manners and customs of the people were simple and primitive. The +costume of the men was a raccoon-skin cap, linsey hunting-shirt, +buck-skin leggings and moccasons, with a butcher-knife in the belt. +The women wore cotton or woollen frocks, striped with blue dye and +Turkey-red, and spun, woven, and made with their own hands; they went +barefooted and bareheaded, except on Sundays, when they covered the head +with a cotton handkerchief. It is told of a certain John Grammar, for +many years a representative from Union County, and a man of some note +in the State councils, though he could neither read nor write, that in +1816, when he was first elected, lacking the necessary apparel, he and +his sons gathered a large quantity of hazel-nuts, which they took to +the nearest town and sold for enough blue strouding to make a suit of +clothes. The pattern proved to be scanty, and the women of the household +could only get out a very bob-tailed coat and leggings. With these Mr. +Grammar started for Kaskaskia, the seat of government, and these he +continued to wear till the passage of an appropriation bill enabled him +to buy a civilized pair of breeches. + +The distinctions in manners and dress between the higher and lower +classes were more marked than at present; for while John Grammar wore +blue strouding, we are told that Governor Edwards dressed in fine +broadcloth, white-topped boots, and a gold-laced cloak, and rode about +the country in a fine carriage, driven by a negro. + +In those days justice was administered without much parade or ceremony. +The judges held their courts mostly in log houses or in the bar-rooms of +taverns, fitted up with a temporary bench for the judge, and chairs for +the lawyers and jurors. At the first Circuit Court in Washington County, +held by Judge John Reynolds, the sheriff, on opening the court, went out +into the yard, and said to the people, "Boys, come in; our John is going +to hold court." The judges were unwilling to decide questions of law, +preferring to submit everything to the jury, and seldom gave them +instructions, if they could avoid it. A certain judge, being ambitious +to show his learning, gave very pointed directions to the jury, but +they could not agree on a verdict. The judge asked the cause of their +difference, when the foreman answered with great simplicity,--"Why, +Judge, this 'ere's the difficulty: the jury wants to know whether that +'ar what you told us, when we went out, was r'aly the law, or whether it +was on'y jist your notion." + +In the spring of 1831, Black Hawk, a Sac chief, dissatisfied with the +treaty by which his tribe had been removed across the Mississippi, +recrossed the river at the head of three or four hundred warriors, and +drove away the white settlers from his old lands near the mouth of the +Rock River. This was considered an invasion of the State, and Governor +Reynolds called for volunteers. Fifteen hundred men answered the +summons, and the Indians were driven out. The next spring, however, +Black Hawk returned with a larger force, and commenced hostilities by +killing some settlers on Indian Creek, not far from Ottawa. A large +force of volunteers was again called out, but in the first encounter the +whites were beaten, which success encouraged the Sacs and Foxes so much +that they spread themselves over the whole of the country between the +Mississippi and the Lake, and kept up a desultory warfare for three or +four months against the volunteer troops. About the middle of July, a +body of volunteers under General Henry of Illinois pursued the Indians +into Wisconsin, and by forced marches brought them to action near the +Mississippi, before the United States troops, under General Atkinson, +could come up. The Indians fought desperately, but were unable to stand +long before the courage and superior numbers of the whites. They escaped +across the river with the loss of nearly three hundred, killed in the +action, or drowned in the retreat. The loss of the Illinois volunteers +was about thirty, killed and wounded. + +This defeat entirely broke the power of the Sacs and Foxes, and they +sued for peace. Black Hawk, and some of his head men, were taken +prisoners, and kept in confinement for several months, when, after a +tour through the country, to show them the numbers and power of the +whites, they were set at liberty on the west side of the Mississippi. In +1840 Black Hawk died, at the age of eighty years, on the banks of the +great river which he loved so well. + +After the Black-Hawk War, the Indian title being extinguished, and the +country open to settlers, Northern Illinois attracted great attention, +and increased wonderfully in wealth and population. + +In 1830, the population of the State amounted to 157,445; in 1840, to +476,183; in 1850, to 851,470; in 1860, to 1,719,496. + + * * * * * + +Situated in the centre of the United States, the State of Illinois +extends from 37° to 42° 30' N. latitude, and from 10° 47' to 14° 26' W. +longitude from Washington. The State is 378 miles long from North to +South, and 212 miles broad from East to West. Its area is computed at +55,408 square miles, or 35,459,200 acres, less than two millions of +which are called swamp lands, the remaining thirty-three millions being +tillable land of unsurpassed fertility. + +The State of Illinois forms the lower part of that slope which embraces +the greater part of Indiana, and of which Lake Michigan, with its +shores, forms the upper part. At the lowest part of this slope, and of +the State, is the city of Cairo, situated about 350 feet above the +level of the Gulf of Mexico, at the confluence of the Ohio and the +Mississippi; hence, the highest place in Illinois being only 800 feet +above the level of the sea, it will appear that the whole State, though +containing several hilly sections, is a pretty level plain, being, with +the exception of Delaware and Louisiana, the flattest country in the +Union. + +The State contains about twenty-five considerable streams, and brooks +and rivulets innumerable. There are no large lakes within its borders, +though it has some sixty miles of Lake Michigan for its boundary on the +east. Small clear lakes and ponds abound, particularly in the northern +portion of the State. + +As to the quality of the soil, Illinois is divided as follows:-- + +First, the alluvial land on the margins of the rivers, and extending +back from half a mile to six or eight miles. This soil is of +extraordinary fertility, and, wherever it is elevated, makes the best +farming land in the State. Where it is low, and exposed to inundations, +it is very unsafe to attempt its cultivation. The most extensive tract +of this kind is the so-called American Bottom, which received this name +when it was the western boundary of the United States. It extends from +the junction of the Kaskaskia and Mississippi, along the latter, to the +mouth of the Missouri, containing about 288,000 acres. + +Secondly, the table-land, fifty to a hundred feet higher than the +alluvial; it consists principally of prairies, which, according to their +respectively higher or lower situations, are either dry or marshy. + +Thirdly, the hilly sections of the State, which, consisting alternately +of wood and prairie, are not, on the whole, as fertile as either the +alluvial or the table-land. + +There are no mountains in Illinois; but in the southern as well as the +northern part, there are a few hills. Near the banks of the principal +rivers the ground is elevated into bluffs, on which may be still found +the traces left by water, which was evidently once much higher than +it now is; whence it is inferred, that, where the fertile plains of +Illinois now extend, there must once have been a vast sheet of water, +the mud deposited by which formed the soil, thus accounting for the +great fertility of the prairies. + + * * * * * + +As we have said, the entire area of Illinois seems at one period to +have been an ocean-bed, which has not since been disturbed by any +considerable upheaval. The present irregularities of the surface are +clearly traceable to the washing out and carrying away of the earth. The +Illinois River has washed out a valley about two hundred and fifty feet +deep, and from one and a half to six miles wide. The perfect regularity +of the beds of mountain limestone, sandstone, and coal, as they are +found protruding from the bluffs on each side of this valley, on the +same levels, is pretty conclusive evidence that the valley itself owes +its existence to the action of water. That the channels of the rivers +have been gradually sunken, we may distinctly see by the shores of the +Upper Mississippi, where are walls of rock, rising perpendicularly, +which extend from Lake Pepin to below the mouth of the Wisconsin, as if +they were walls built of equal height by the hand of man. Wherever the +river describes a curve, walls may be found on the convex side of it. + +The upper coal formation occupies three-fifths of the State, commencing +at 41° 12' North latitude, where, as also along the Mississippi, whose +banks it touches between the places of its junction with the Illinois +and Missouri rivers, it is enclosed by a narrow layer of calcareous +coal. The shores of Lake Michigan, and that narrow strip of land, which, +commencing near them, runs along the northern bank of the Illinois +towards its southwestern bend, until it meets Rock River at its mouth, +belong to the Devonian system. The residue of the northern part of the +State consists of Silurian strata, which, containing the rich lead mines +of Galena in the northwest corner of the State, rise at intervals into +conical hills, giving the landscape a character different from that of +the middle or southern portion. Scattered along the banks of rivers, and +in the middle of prairies, are frequently found large masses of granite +and other primitive rocks. Since the nearest beds of primitive rocks +first appear in Minnesota and the northern part of Wisconsin, their +presence here can be accounted for only by assuming that at the time +this region was covered with water they were floated down from the +North, enclosed and supported in masses of ice, which, melting, allowed +the rocks to sink to the bottom. A still further proof of the presence +of the ocean here in former times is to be found in the sea-shells which +occur upon many of the higher knolls and bluffs west of the Mississippi +in Iowa. + +Illinois contains probably more coal than any other State in the Union. +It is mined at a small depth below the surface, and crops out upon the +banks of most of the streams in the middle of the State. These mines +have been very imperfectly worked till within a few years; but it is +found, that, as the work goes deeper, the quality of the coal improves, +and in some of the later excavations is equal to the best coals of Ohio +and Pennsylvania, and will undoubtedly prove a source of immense wealth +to the State. + +The two northwestern counties of the State form a part of the richest +and most extensive lead region in the world. During the year 1855, the +product of these mines, shipped from the single port of Galena, was +430,365 pigs of lead, worth $1,732,219.02. + +Copper has been found in large quantities in the northern counties, and +also in the southern portion of the State. Some of the zinc ores are +found in great quantities at the lead mines near Galena, but have not +yet been utilized. Silver has been found in St. Clair County, whence +Silver Creek has derived its name. It is said that in early times the +French sunk a shaft here, from which they obtained large quantities of +the metal. Iron is found in many parts of the State, and the ores have +been worked to considerable extent. + +Among other valuable mineral products may be mentioned porcelain and +potter's clay, fire clay, fuller's earth, limestone of many varieties, +sandstone, marble, and salt springs. + + * * * * * + +Illinois has an average temperature, which, if compared with that of +Europe, corresponds to that of Middle Germany; its winters are more +severe than those of Copenhagen, and its summers as warm as those of +Milan or Palermo. Compared with other States of the Union, Northern +Illinois possesses a temperature similar to that of Southern New York, +while the temperature of Southern Illinois will not differ much from +that of Kentucky or Virginia. By observations of the thermometer during +twenty years, in the southern part of the State, on the Mississippi, the +mercury, once in that period, fell to-25°, and four times it rose above +100°, Fahrenheit. + +The prevailing winds are either western or southeastern. The severest +storms are those coming from the west, which traverse the entire space +between the Rocky Mountains and the Atlantic coast in forty-eight hours. + +There are on an average eighty-nine rainy days in the year; the quantity +of rain falling amounts to forty-two inches,--the smallest amount +being in January, and the largest in June. The average number of +thunder-storms in a year is forty-nine; of clear days, one hundred and +thirty-seven; of changeable days, one hundred and eighty-three; and of +days without sunshine, forty-five. + + * * * * * + +The vegetation of the State forms the connecting link between +the Flora of the Northeastern States and that of the Upper +Mississippi,--exhibiting, besides the plants common to all the States +lying between the Mississippi and the Atlantic Ocean, such as are, +properly speaking, natives of the Western prairies, not being found +east of the Alleghany Mountains. Immense grassy plains, interlaced with +groves, which are found also along the watercourses, cover two-thirds of +the entire area of the State in the North, while the southern part is +garnished with heavy timber. + +No work which we have seen gives so good an account of the Flora of the +prairies as the one by Frederick Gerhard, called "Illinois as it is." We +have been indebted to this work for a good deal of valuable matter, and +shall now make some further extracts from it. + +"Before we finally turn our backs on the last scattered houses of the +village, we find both sides of the road lined with ugly worm-fences, +which are overtopped by the various species of Helianthus, Thistles, +Biennial Gaura, and the Illinoisian Bell-flower with cerulean blossoms, +and other tall weeds. Here may also be found the coarse-haired +_Asclepias tuberosa_, with fiery red umbels, the strong-scented _Monarda +fistulosa_, and an umbelliferous plant, the grass-like, spiculated +leaves of which recall to mind the Southern Agaves, the _Eryngo._ Among +these children of Nature rises the civilized plant, the Indian Corn, +with its stalks nearly twelve feet high." + +"Having now arrived at the end of the cultivated lands, we enter upon +the dry prairies, extending up the bluffs, where we meet the small +vermilion Sorrel _(Rumex acetosella)_ and Mouse-ear, which, however, do +not reside here as foreigners, but as natives, like many other plants +that remind the European of his native country, as, for instance, the +Dandelion _(Taraxacum officinale)_; a kind of Rose, _(Rosa lucida,)_ +with its sweet-scented blossoms, has a great predilection for this dry +soil. With surprise we meet here also with many plants with hairy, +greenish-gray leaves and stalk-covers, as, for instance, the _Onosmodium +molle, Hieracium longipilum, Pycnanthemum pilosum, Chrysopsis villosa, +Amorpha canescens, Tephrosia Virginiana, Lithospermum canescens;_ +between which the immigrated Mullein _(Verbuscum thapsus)_ may be found. +The pebbly fragments of the entire slope, which during spring-time +were sparingly covered with dwarfish herbs, such as the _Androsace +occidentalis, Draba Caroliniana, Plantago Virginica, Scutellaria +parvula,_ are now crowded with plants of taller growth and variegated +blossoms. _Rudbeckia hirta_, with its numerous radiating blossoms of a +lively yellow, and the closely allied _Echinacea purpurea_, whose long +purple rays hang down from a ruddy hemispherical disc, are the most +remarkable among plants belonging to the genus _Compositoe_, which +blossom early in summer; in the latter part of summer follow innumerable +plants of the different species,_Liatris, Vernonia, Aster, Solidago, +Helianthus, etc."_ + +"We approach a sinuous chasm of the bluffs, having better soil and +underwood, which, thin at first, increases gradually in density. +Low bushes, hardly a foot high, are formed by the American Thistle, +_(Ceanothus Americanus,)_ a plant whose leaves were used instead of tea, +in Boston, during the Revolution. Next follow the Hazel-bush, _(Corylus +Americana,)_ the fiery-red _Castilleja coccinea,_ and the yellow +Canadian Louse-wort; the _Dipteracanthus strepens_, with great blue +funnel-shaped blossoms, and the _Gerardia pedicularia_, are fond of +such places; and where the bushes grow higher, and the _Rhus glabra, +Zanthoxylum Americanum, Ptelea trifoliata, Staphylea trifolia,_ together +with _Ribes-Rubus Pyrus, Cornus, and Cratoegus,_ form an almost +impenetrable thicket, surrounded and garlanded by the round-leaved, +rough Bindweed, _(Smilax rotundifolia,)_ and _Dioscorea villosa_, the +Climbing Rose, _(Rosa setigera,) Celastrus scandens_, remarkable for its +beautiful red fruits, _Clematis Virginiana, Polygonum, Convolvulus, and +other vines, these weedy herbs attempt to overtop the bushes." + +"We now enter upon the illimitable prairie which lies before us, the +fertile prairie, in whose undulating surface the moisture is retained; +this waits for cultivation, and will soon be deprived of its flowery +attire, and bear plain, but indispensable grain. Those who have not yet +seen such a prairie should not imagine it like a cultivated meadow, but +rather a heaving sea of tall herbs and plants, decking it with every +variety of color. + +"In the summer, the yellow of the large _Composite_ will predominate, +intermingled with the blue of the Tradescantias, the fiery red of the +Lilies, (_Lilium Philadelphicum_ and _Lilium Canadense_,) the purple of +the Phlox, the white of the _Cacalia tuberosa, Melanthium Virginicum,_ +and the umbelliferous plants. In spring, small-sized plants bloom here, +such as the Anemone, with its blue and white blossoms, the Palmated +Violet, the Ranunculus, which are the first ornaments of the prairies in +spring; then follow the Esculent Sea-Onion, _Pentaloplius longiflorus, +Lithospermum hirtum, Cynthia Virginica,_ and _Baptisia leucophaea_. +As far as the eye reaches, no house nor tree can be seen; but where +civilization has come, the farmer has planted small rows of the quickly +growing Black Acacia, which affords shelter from the sun to his cattle +and fuel for his hearth." + +"We now enter the level part of the forest, which has a rich black soil. +Great sarmentous plants climb here up to the tops of the trees: wild +Grapes, the climbing, poisonous Sumach, (_Rhus toxicodendron,_) and the +vine-like Cinque-foil, which transforms withered, naked trunks into +green columns, Bignonias, with their brilliant scarlet trumpet-flowers, +are the most remarkable. The _Thuja occidentalis,_ which may be met +with in European gardens, stands in mournful solitude on the margins of +pools; here and there an isolalod Cedar, (_Juniperus Virginiana_) +and the low Box-tree, (_Taxus Canadensis_) are in Illinois the only +representatives of the evergreens, forests of which first appear in the +northern part of Wisconsin and Minnesota." + +"Flowers of the most brilliant hues bedeck the rivers' banks; above +all, the _Lobelia cardinalis_ and _Lobelia syphilitica_, of the deepest +carmine and cerulean tinge, the yellow _Cassia Marilandica_, and the +delicate _Rosa blanda_, a rose without thorns; also the _Scrophularia +nodosa_." + +"On the marshy ground thrive the _Iris versicolor, Asclepias incarnata_, +the Primrose-tree, Liver-wort, the tall _Physostegia Virginiana_, with +rosy-red blossoms, and the _Helenium autumnale_, in which the yellow +color predominates. In spring, the dark violet blossom of the _Amorpha +fruticosa_ diffuses its fragrance." + +"Entering a boat on the river, where we cannot touch the bottom with the +oar, we perceive a little white flower waving to and fro, supported +by long spiral halms between straight, grass-like leaves. This is the +_Vallisneria spiralis_, a remarkable plant, which may be also met with +in Southern Europe, especially in the Canal of Languedoc, and regarding +the fructification of which different opinions prevail." + +"Nearer to the land, we observe similar grass-like leaves, but with +little yellow stellated flowers: these belong to the order of _Schollera +graminea_. Other larger leaves belong to the Amphibious Polygony, and +different species of the _Potamogeton,_ the ears of whose blossoms rise +curiously above the surface of the water. Clearing our way through a +row of tall swamp weeds, _Zizania aquatica, Scirpus lacustris, Scirpus +pungens_, among which the white flowers of _Sparganium ramosum_ and +_Sagittaria variabilis_ are conspicuous, we steer into a large inlet +entirely covered with the broad leaves of the _Nymphaea odorala_ and the +_Nelumbium luteum_, of which the former waves its beautiful flower on +the surface of the river, while the latter, the queen, in fact, of +the waters, proudly raises her magnificent crown upon a perpendicular +footstalk. On the opposite bank, the evening breeze lifts the triangular +leaves and rosy-red flowers of the Marsh-Mallow, overhung by Gray +Willows and the Silver-leaved Maple and the Red Maple, on which a flock +of white herons have alighted." + +In all the rivers and swamps of the Northwest grows the Wild Rice, +(_Zizania aquatica,_) a plant which was' formerly very important to the +Indians as food, and now attracts vast flocks of waterfowl to feed upon +it in the season. In autumn the squaws used to go in their canoes +to these natural rice-fields, and, bending the tall stalks over the +gunwale, beat out the heads of grain with their paddles into the canoe. +It is mentioned among the dainties at Hiawatha's wedding-feast:-- + + "Haunch of deer, and hump of bison, + Yellow cakes of the Momdamin, + And the wild rice of the river." + +The Fruits of the forest are Strawberries, Blackberries, Raspberries, +Gooseberries, in some barren spots Whortleberries, Mulberries, +Grapes, Wild Plums and Cherries, Crab-Apples, the Persimmon, Pawpaw, +Hickory-nuts, Hazel-nuts, and Walnuts. + +The Timber-trees are,--of the Oaks, _Quercus alba, Quercus macrocarpa, +Quercus tinctoria, Quercus imbricaria,--Hard and Soft Maples_,--and of +the Hickories, _Carya alba, Carya tomentosa, and Carya amara_. Other +useful timber-trees are the Ash, Cherry, several species of Elm, Linden, +and Ironwood (_Carpinus Americana_). + +Of Medicinal Plants, we find _Cassia Marilandica, Polygala Senega, +Sanguinaria Canadensis, Lobelia inflata, Phytolacca decandra, +Podophyllum peliatum, Sassafras officinale_. + +Various species of the Vine are native here, and the improved varieties +succeed admirably in the southern counties. + +The early travellers in this region mention the great herds of wild +cattle which roamed over the prairies in those times, but the last +Buffalo on the east side of the Mississippi was killed in 1832; and now +the hunter who would see this noble game must travel some hundreds of +miles west, to the head-waters of the Kansas or the Platte. The Elk, +which was once so common in Illinois, has also receded before the white +man, and the Deer is fast following his congener. On the great prairies +south of Chicago, where, fifteen years ago, one might find twenty deer +in a day's tramp, not one is now to be seen. Two species of Hare occur +here, and several Tree Squirrels, the Red, Black, Gray, Mottled, and the +Flying; besides these, there are two or three which live under ground. +The Beaver is nearly or quite extinct, but the Otter remains, and the +Musk-Rat abounds on all the river-banks and marshes. + +Of carnivorous animals, we have the Panther and Black Bear in the wooded +portions of the State, though rare; the Lynx, the Gray and Black Wolf, +and the Prairie Wolf; the Skunk, the Badger, the Woodchuck, the Raccoon, +and, in the southern part of the State, the Opossum. + +Mr. Lapham of Wisconsin has published a list of the birds of that State, +which will also answer for Northern Illinois. He enumerates two hundred +and ninety species, which, we think, is below the number which visit the +central parts of Illinois. From the central position of this State, +most of the birds of the United States are found here at one season or +another. For instance, among the rapacious birds, we have the three +Eagles which visit America, the White-Headed, the Washington, and +the Golden or Royal Eagle. Of Hawks and Falcons, fourteen or fifteen +species, among which are the beautiful Swallow-tailed Hawk, and that +noble falcon, the Peregrine. Ten or twelve Owls, among which, as a rare +visitor, we find the Great Gray Owl, (_Syrnium cinereum_,) and the Snowy +Owl, which is quite common in the winter season on the prairies, preying +upon grouse and hares. Of the Vultures, we have two, as summer visitors, +the Turkey-Buzzard and the Black Vulture. + +Of omnivorous birds, sixteen or eighteen species, among which is the +Raven, which here takes the place of the Crow, the two species not being +able to live together, as the stronger robber drives away the weaker. Of +the insectivorous birds, some sixty or seventy species are found here, +among which is the Mocking-Bird, in the middle and southern districts. +Thirty-five to forty species of granivorous birds, among which we +occasionally find in winter that rare Arctic bird, the Evening Grosbeak. +Of the _Zygodachyli_, fourteen species, among which is found the Paquet, +in the southern part of the State. _Tenuirostres_, five species. Of the +Kingfishers, one species. Swallows and Goat-suckers, nine species. Of +the Pigeons, two, the Turtle-Dove and the Passenger Pigeon, of which the +latter visit us twice a year, in immense flocks. + +Of the gallinaceous birds, the Turkey, which is found in the heavy +timber in the river bottoms; the Quail, which has become very abundant +all over the State, within twenty years, following, it would seem, the +march of civilization and settlement; the Ruffed Grouse, abundant in the +timber, but never seen on the prairie; the Pinnated Grouse, or Prairie +Hen, always found on the open plains. These birds increased very much in +number after the settlement of the State, owing probably to the increase +of food for them, and the decrease of their natural enemies, the prairie +wolves; but since the building of railroads, so many are killed to +supply the demands of New York and other Eastern cities, that they are +now decreasing very rapidly, and in a very few years the sportsman will +have to cross the Mississippi to find a pack of grouse. The Sharp-tailed +Grouse, an occasional visitor in winter from Wisconsin, is found in the +timbered country. + +Of wading birds, from forty to fifty species, among which the Sand-Hill +Crane is very abundant, and the Great White or Whooping Crane very rare, +although supposed by some authors to be the same bird in different +stages of plumage. + +Of the lobe-footed birds, seven species, of which is the rare and +beautiful Wilson's Phalarope, which breeds in the wet prairies near +Chicago. + +Of web-footed birds, about forty species, among which are two Swans and +five Geese. Among the Ducks, the Canvas-Back is found; but, owing to the +want of its favorite food in the Chesapeake, the _Vallisneria_, it is, +in our waters, a very ordinary duck, as an article of food. + +The waters of Illinois abound with fish, of which class we enumerate,-- + + Species Species + + Percidae, 3 Pomotis, 2 + Labrax, 3 Cottus, 2 + Lucioperca, 2 Corvina, 1 + Huro, 1 Pimelodus, 5 + Centrarchus, 3 Leuciscus, 6 + Hydrargea, 2 Corregomus, 3 + Esox, 3 Amia, 1 + Hyodon, 1 Lepidosteus, 3 + Lota, 2 Accipenser, 3 + +Of these, the Perch, White, Black, and Rock Bass, the Pike-Perch, the +Catfish, the Pike and Muskalonge, the Whitefish, the Lake Trout, and the +Sturgeon are valuable fishes for the table. + +Of the class of Reptiles, we have among the Lizards the Mud-Devil, +(_Menopoma Alleghaniensis_,) which grows in the sluggish streams to +the length of two feet; also _Triton dorsalis_, _Necturus lateralis_, +_Ambystoma punctata_. + +Of the Snakes, we find three venomous species, the Rattlesnake, the +Massasauga, and the Copper-Head. The largest serpents are the Black +Snake, five feet long, and the Milk Snake, from five to six feet in +length. + +Among the Turtles is _Emys picta_, _Chelonura serpentina_, and _Cistuda +clausa_. + +Of the Frogs, we have _Rana sylvatica_, _Rana palustris_, and _Rana +pipiens_, nearly two feet long, and loud-voiced in proportion,--a +Bull-Frog, indeed! + +Various theories and speculations have been formed as to the origin of +the prairies. One of them, is, that the forests which formerly occupied +these plains were swept away at some remote period by fire; and that the +annual fires set by the Indians have continued this state of things. +Another theory is, that the violent winds which sweep over them have +prevented the growth of trees; a third, that want of rain forbids their +growth; a fourth, that the agency of water has produced the effect; +and lastly, a learned professor at the last meeting of the Scientific +Convention put forth his theory, which was, that the real cause of the +absence of trees from the prairies is the mechanical condition of the +soil, which is, he thinks, too fine,--a coarse, rocky soil being, in his +estimation, a necessary condition of the growth of trees. + +Most of these theories seem to be inconsistent with the plain facts of +the case. First, we know that these prairies existed in their present +condition when the first white man visited them, two hundred years ago; +and also that similar treeless plains exist in South America and Central +Africa, and have so existed ever since those countries were known. We +are told by travellers in those regions, that the natives have the same +custom of annually burning the dry grass and herbage for the same reason +that our Indians did it, and that the early white settlers kept up the +custom,--namely, to promote the growth of young and tender feed for the +wild animals which the former hunted and the cattle which the latter +live by grazing. + +Another fact, well known to all settlers in the prairie, is, that it is +only necessary to keep out the fires by fences or ditches, and a thick +growth of trees will spring up on the prairies. Many fine groves now +exist all over Illinois, where nothing grew twenty years ago but the +wild grasses and weeds; and we have it on record, that locust-seed, sown +on the prairie near Quincy, in four years produced trees with a diameter +of trunk of four to six inches, and in seven years had become large +enough for posts and rails. So with fruit-trees, which nowhere flourish +with more strength and vigor than in this soil,--too much so, indeed, +since they are apt to run to wood rather than fruit. Moreover, the soil +in the groves and on the river bottoms, where trees naturally grow, is +the same, chemically and mechanically, as that of the open prairie; the +same winds sweep over both, and the same rain falls upon both; so that +it would seem that the absence of trees cannot be attributed wholly to +fire, water, wind, or soil, but is owing to a combination of two or more +of those agencies. + +But from whatever cause the prairies originated, they have no doubt been +perpetuated by the fires which annually sweep over their surface. Where +the soil is too wet to sustain a heavy growth of grass, there is no +prairie. Timber is found along the streams, almost invariably,--and, +where the banks are high and dry, will usually be found on the east bank +of those streams whose course is north and south. This is caused by the +fact that the prevailing winds are from the west, and bring the fire +with them till it reaches the stream, which forms a barrier and protects +the vegetation on the other side. + +If any State in the Union is adapted to agriculture, and the various +branches of rural economy, such as stock-raising, wool-growing, or +fruit-culture, it must surely be Illinois, where the fertile natural +meadows invite the plough, without the tedious process of clearing off +timber, which, in many parts of the country, makes it the labor of a +lifetime to bring a farm under good cultivation. Here, the farmer who is +satisfied with such crops as fifty bushels of corn to the acre, eighteen +of wheat, or one hundred of potatoes, has nothing to do but to plough, +sow, and reap; no manure, and but little attention, being necessary +to secure a yield like this. Hence a man of very small means can soon +become independent on the prairies. If, however, one is ambitious of +raising good crops, and doing the best he can with his land, let him +manure liberally and cultivate diligently; nowhere will land pay for +good treatment better than here. + +Mr. J. Ambrose Wight, of Chicago, the able editor of the "Prairie +Farmer," writes as follows:-- + +"From an acquaintance with Illinois lands and Illinois farmers, of +eighteen years, during thirteen of which I have been editor of the +'Prairie Farmer,' I am prepared to give the following as the rates of +produce which may be had per acre, with ordinary culture:-- + + Winter Wheat, 15 to 25 Bushels. + Spring " 10 to 20 " + Corn, 40 to 70 " + Oats, 40 to 60 " + Potatoes, 100 to 200 " + Grass, Timothy and Clover, 1-1/2 to 3 Tons. + +"_Ordinary culture_, on prairie lands, is not what is meant by the term +in the Eastern or Middle States. It means here, no manure, and commonly +but once, or at most twice, ploughing, on perfectly smooth land, with +long furrows, and no stones or obstructions; where two acres per day +is no hard job for one team. It is often but very poor culture, with +shallow ploughing, and without attention to weeds. I have known crops, +not unfrequently, far greater than these, with but little variation in +their treatment: say, 40 to 50 bushels of winter wheat, 60 to 80 of +oats, and 100 of Indian corn, or 300 of potatoes. _Good culture_, which +means rotation, deep ploughing, farms well stocked, and some manure +applied at intervals of from three to five years, would, in good +seasons, very often approach these latter figures." + +We will now give the results of a very detailed account of the +management of a farm of 240 acres, in Kane County, Illinois, an average +farm as to soil and situation, but probably much above the average in +cultivation,--at least, we should judge so from the intelligent and +business-like manner in which the account is kept; every crop having a +separate account kept with it in Dr. and Cr., to show the net profit or +loss of each. + +23 acres of Wheat, 30 bushels per acre, net profit $453.00 +17-1/2 " " on Corn ground, 22-1/2 " " " 278.50 +9-1/2 " Spring Wheat, 24 " " " 159.70 +2-1/2 " Winter Rye, 22-7/12 " " " 10.25 +5-1/2 " Barley, 33-1/4 " " " 32.55 +12 " Oats, 87-1/2 " " " 174.50 +28-1/2 " Corn, 60 " " " 638.73 +1 " Potatoes, 150 " " " 27.50 +103 Sheep, average weight of fleece, 3-1/2 lbs., " 177.83 +15 head of Cattle and one Colt " 103.00 +1500 lbs. Pork " 35.00 +Fruit, Honey, Bees, and Poultry " 73.75 +21 acres Timothy Seed, 4 bushels per acre, " 123.00 +-------- +$2287.31 + +A farm of this size, so situated, with the proper buildings and stock, +may, at the present price of land, be supposed to represent a capital of +$15,000--on which sum the above account gives an interest of over 15 per +cent. Is there any other part of the country where the same interest can +be realized on farming capital? + +But this farm of 240 acres is a mere retail affair to many farms in the +State. We will give some examples on a larger scale. + +"Winstead Davis came to Jonesboro', Illinois, from Tennessee, thirty +years ago, without means of any kind; now owns many thousand acres of +land, and has under cultivation, this year, from 2500 to 3000 acres." + +"W. Willard, native of Vermont, commenced penniless; now owns more than +10,000 acres of land, and cultivates 2000." + +"Jesse Funk, near Bloomington, Illinois, began the world thirty years +ago, at rail-splitting, at twenty-five cents the hundred. He bought +land, and raised cattle; kept increasing his lands and herds, till he +now owns 7000 acres of land, and sells over 840,000 worth of cattle and +hogs annually. + +"Isaac Funk, brother of the above, began in the same way, at the same +time. He has gone ahead of Jesse; for _he_ owns 27,000 acres of land, +has 4000 in cultivation, and his last year's sales of cattle amounted to +$65,000." + +It is evident that the brothers Funk are men of administrative talent; +they would have made a figure in Wall Street, could have filled cabinet +office at Washington, or, perhaps, could even have "kept a hotel." + +These are but specimens of the large-acred men of Illinois. Hundreds of +others there are, who farm on nearly the same scale. + +The great difficulty in carrying on farming operations on a large scale +in Illinois has always been the scarcity of labor. Land is cheap and +plenty, but labor scarce and dear: exactly the reverse of what obtains +in England, where land is dear and labor cheap. It must be evident that +a different kind of farming would be found here from that in use in +older countries. There, the best policy is to cultivate a few acres +well; here, it has been found more profitable to skim over a large +surface. But within a few years the introduction of labor-saving +machines has changed the conditions of farming, and has rendered it +possible to give good cultivation to large tracts of land with few men. +Many of the crops are now put in by machines, cultivated by machines, +and harvested by machine. If, as seems probable, the steam-plough +of Fawkes shall become a success, the revolution in farming will be +complete. Already some of the large farmers employ wind or steam power +in various ways to do the heavy work, such as cutting and grinding food +for cattle and hogs, pumping water, etc. + +Although the soil and climate of Illinois are well adapted to +fruit-culture, yet, from various causes, it has not, till lately, been +much attended to. The early settlers of Southern and Middle Illinois +were mostly of the Virginia race, Hoosiers,--who are a people of few +wants. If they have hog-meat and hominy, whiskey and tobacco, they are +content; they will not trouble themselves to plant fruit-trees. The +early settlers in the North were, generally, very poor men; they could +not afford to buy fruit-trees, for the produce of which they must wait +several years. Wheat, corn, and hogs were the articles which could be +soonest converted into money, and those they raised. Then the early +attempts at raising fruit were not very successful. The trees were +brought from the East, and were either spoiled by the way, or were +unsuited to this region. But the great difficulty has been the want of +drainage. Fruit-trees cannot be healthy with wet feet for several months +of the year, and this they are exposed to on these level lands. With +proper tile-draining, so that the soil shall be dry and mellow early in +the spring, we think that the apple, the pear, the plum, and the cherry +will succeed on the prairies anywhere in Illinois. The peach and the +grape flourish in the southern part of the State, already, with very +little care; in St. Clair County, the culture of the latter has been +carried on by the Germans for many years, and the average yield of +Catawba wine has been two hundred gallons per acre. The strawberry grows +wild all over the State, both in the timber and the prairie; and the +cultivated varieties give very fine crops. All the smaller fruits do +well here, and the melon family find in this soil their true home; they +are raised by the acre, and sold by the wagon-load, in the neighborhood +of Chicago. + +Stock-raising is undoubtedly the most profitable kind of farming on +the prairies, which are so admirably adapted to this species of rural +economy, and Illinois is already at the head of the cattle-breeding +States. There were shipped from Chicago in 1860, 104,122 head of live +cattle, and 114,007 barrels of beef. + +The Durham breed seems to be preferred by the best stock-farmers, and +they pay great attention to the purity of the race. A herd of one +hundred head of cattle raised near Urbanna, and averaging 1965 pounds +each, took the premium at the World's Fair in New York. Although the +Durhams are remarkable for their large size and early maturity, yet +other breeds are favorites with many farmers,--such as the Devons, the +Herefords, and the Holsteins, the first particularly,--for working +cattle, and for the quality of their beef. There is a sweetness about +the beef fattened upon these prairies which is not found elsewhere, and +is noticed by all travellers who have eaten of that meat at the best +Chicago hotels. + +In fact, Illinois is the paradise of cattle, and there is no sight more +beautiful, in its way, than one of those vast natural meadows in June, +dotted with the red and white cattle, standing belly-deep in rich grass +and gay-colored flowers, and almost too fat and lazy to whisk away +the flies. Even in winter they look comfortable, in their sheltered +barn-yard, surrounded by huge stacks of hay or long ranges of +corn-cribs, chewing the cud of contentment, and untroubled with any +thought of the inevitable journey to Brighton. + +Where corn is so plenty as it is in Illinois, of course hogs will be +plenty also. During the year 1860, two hundred and seventy-five thousand +porkers rode into Chicago by railroad, eighty-five thousand of which +pursued their journey, still living, to Eastern cities,--the balance +remaining behind to be converted into lard, bacon, and salt pork. + +The wholesale way of making beef and pork is this. All summer the cattle +are allowed to run on the prairie, and the hogs in the timber on the +river bottoms. In the autumn, when the corn is ripe, the cattle are +turned into one of those great fields, several hundred acres in extent, +to gather the crop; and after they have done, the hogs come in to pick +up what the cattle have left. + +Sheep do well on the prairies, particularly in the southern part of the +State, where the flocks require little or no shelter in winter. The +prairie wolves formerly destroyed many sheep; but since the introduction +of strychnine for poisoning those voracious animals, the sheep have been +very little troubled. + +Horses and mules are raised extensively, and in the northern counties, +where the Morgans and other good breeds have been introduced, the horses +are as good as in any State of the Union. Theory would predict this +result, since the horse is found always to come to his greatest +perfection in level countries,--as, for instance, the deserts of Arabia, +and the _llanos_ of South America. + +There are two articles in daily and indispensable use, for which the +Northern States have hitherto been dependent on the Southern: Sugar +and Cotton. With regard to the first, the introduction of the Chinese +Sugar-Cane has demonstrated that every farmer in the State can raise +his own sweetening. The experience of several years has proved that the +_Sorghum_ is a hardier plant than corn, and that it will be a sure crop +as far North as latitude 42° or 43°. + +An acre of good prairie will produce 18 tons of the cane, and each ton +gives 60 gallons of juice, which is reduced, by boiling, to 10 gallons +of syrup. This gives 180 gallons of syrup to the acre, worth from 40 to +50 cents a gallon,--say 40 cents, which will give 72 dollars for the +product of an acre of land; from which the expenses of cultivation being +deducted, with rent of land, etc., say 36 dollars, there will remain a +net profit of 36 dollars to the acre, besides the seed, and the fodder +which comes from a third part of the stalk, which is cut off before +sending the remainder to the mill. This is found to be the most +nutritious food that can be used for cattle and horses, and very +valuable for milch cows. These results Lave been obtained from Mr. Luce, +of Plainfield, Will County, who has lately built a steam-mill for making +the syrup from the cane which is raised by the farmers in that vicinity. +In this first year, he manufactured 12,500 gallons of syrup, which sells +readily at fifty cents a gallon. A quantity of it was refined at the +Chicago Sugar-Refinery, and the result was a very agreeable syrup, free +from the peculiar flavor which the home-made Sorghum-syrup usually +has. As yet, no experiments on a large scale have been made to obtain +crystallized sugar from the juice of this cane, it having been, so far, +used more economically in the shape of syrup. That it can be done, +however, is proved by the success of several persons who have tried it +in a small way. In the County of Vermilion, it is estimated that three +hundred thousand gallons of syrup were made in 1860. + +As to Cotton, since the building of the Illinois Central Railroad has +opened the southern part of the State to the world, and let in the +light upon that darkened Egypt, it is found that those people have +been raising their own cotton for many years, from the seed which they +brought with them into the State from Virginia and North Carolina. The +plant has become acclimated, and now ripens its seed in latitude 39° and +40°. Perhaps the culture may be carried still farther, so that cotton +may be raised all over the State. The heat of our summers is tropical, +but they are too short. If, however, the cotton-plant, like Indian corn +and the tomato, can be gradually induced to mature itself in four or +five months, the consequences of such a change can hardly be estimated. + +But whether or not it be possible to raise cotton and sugar profitably +in Illinois, that she is the great bread- and meat-producing State no +one can doubt; and in 1861 it happens that Cotton is King no longer, but +must yield his sceptre to Corn. + +The breadstuffs exported from the Northwest to Europe and to the Cotton +States will this year probably amount to more money than the whole +foreign export of cotton,--the crop which to some persons represents all +that the world contains of value. + + Probable export of Cotton in 1861, three-fourths + of the crop of 4,000,000 bales, 3,000,000 bales, + at $45 . . . . . . . . . $135,000,000 + Estimated export of Breadstuffs + to Europe . . . . . . . . $100,000,000 + Estimated export of Breadstuffs + to Southern States . . . . . . $45,000,000 + ------------ + $145,000,000 + +We are feeding Europe and the Cotton States, who pay us in gold; we +feed the Northern States, who pay us in goods; we are feeding our +starving brothers in Kansas, who have paid us beforehand, by their +heroic devotion to the cause of freedom. Let us hope that their troubles +are nearly over, and that, having passed through more hardships than +have fallen to the lot of any American community, they may soon enter +upon a career of prosperity as signal as have been their misfortunes, so +that the prairies of Kansas may, in their turn, assist in feeding the +world. + +Nothing has done so much for the rapid growth of Illinois as her canal +and railroads. + +As early as 1833 several railroad charters were granted by the +legislature; but the stock was not taken, and nothing was done until the +year 1836, when a vast system of internal improvements was projected, +intended "to be commensurate with the wants of the people,"--that is, +there was to be a railroad to run by every man's door. About thirteen +hundred miles of railroads were planned, a canal was to be built from +Chicago to the Illinois River at Peru, and several rivers were to be +made navigable. The cost of all this it was supposed would be about +eight millions of dollars, and the money was to be raised by loan. In +order that all might have the benefit of this system, it was provided +that two hundred thousand dollars should be distributed among those +counties where none of these improvements were made. To cap the climax +of folly, it was provided that the work should commence on all these +roads simultaneously, at each end, and from the crossings of all the +rivers. + +As no previous survey or estimate had been made, either of the routes, +the cost of the works, or the amount of business to be done on them, it +is not surprising that the State of Illinois soon found herself with a +heavy debt, and nothing to show for it, except a few detached pieces +of railroad embankments and excavations, a half-finished canal, and a +railroad from the Illinois River to Springfield, which cost one million +of dollars, and when finished would not pay for operating it. + +The State staggered on for some ten years under this load of debt, +which, as she could not pay the interest upon it, had increased in 1845 +to some fourteen millions. The project of repudiating the debt was +frequently brought forward by unscrupulous politicians; but to the honor +of the people of Illinois be it remembered, that even in the darkest +times this dishonest scheme found but few friends. + +In 1845, the holders of the canal bonds advanced the sum of $1,700,000 +for the purpose of finishing the canal; and subsequently, William B. +Ogden and a few other citizens of Chicago, having obtained possession of +an old railroad-charter for a road from that city to Galena, got a few +thousand dollars of stock subscribed in those cities, and commenced the +work. The difficulties were very great, from the scarcity of money and +the want of confidence in the success of the enterprise. In most of the +villages along the proposed line there was a strong opposition to having +a railroad built at all, as the people thought it would be the ruin of +their towns. Even in Chicago, croakers were not wanting to predict that +the railroad would monopolize all the trade of the place. + +In the face of all these obstacles, the road was built to the Des +Plaines River, twelve miles,--in a very cheap way, to be sure; as a +second-hand strap-rail was used, and half-worn cars were picked up from +Eastern roads. + +These twelve miles of road between the Des Plaines and Chicago had +always been the terror of travellers. It was a low, wet prairie, without +drainage, and in the spring and autumn almost impassable. At such +seasons one might trace the road by the broken wagons and dead horses +that lay strewn along it. + +To be able to have their loads of grain carried over this dreadful place +for three or four cents a bushel was to the farmers of the Rock River +and Fox River valleys--who, having hauled their wheat from forty to +eighty miles to this Slough of Despond, frequently could get it no +farther--a privilege which they soon began to appreciate. The road had +all it could do, at once. It was a success. There was now no difficulty +in getting the stock taken up, and before long it was finished to Fox +River. It paid from fifteen to twenty per cent to the stockholders, +and the people along the line soon became its warmest friends,--and no +wonder, since it doubled the value of every man's farm on the line. The +next year the road was extended to Rock River, and then to Galena, one +hundred and eighty-five miles. + +This road was the pioneer of the twenty-eight hundred and fifty miles of +railroads which now cross the State in every direction, and which have +hastened the settlement of the prairies at least fifty years. + +Among these lines of railway, the most important, and one of the longest +in America, is the Illinois Central, which is seven hundred and four +miles in length, and traverses the State from South to North, namely:-- + + 1. The main line, from Cairo to La Salla 308 miles + 2. The Galena Branch, from La Salle to Dunleith 146 " + 3. The Chicago Branch, from Chicago to Centralia 250 " + +This great work was accomplished in the short space of four years and +nine months, by the help of a grant of two and a half millions of acres +of land lying along the line. The company have adopted the policy of +selling these lands on long credit to actual settlers; and since the +completion of the road, in 1856, they have sold over a million of acres, +for fifteen millions of dollars, in secured notes, bearing interest. The +remaining lands will probably realize as much more, so that the seven +hundred and four miles of railroad will actually cost the corporators +nothing. + +There are eleven trunk and twenty branch and extension lines, which +centre in Chicago, the earnings of nineteen of which, for the year 1859, +were fifteen millions of dollars. As that, however, was a year of great +depression in business, with a short crop through the Northwest, we +think, in view of the large crop of 1860, and the consequent revival of +business, that the earnings of these nineteen lines will not be less +this year than twenty-two millions of dollars. + +In the early settlement of the State, twenty-five or thirty years ago, +the pioneers being necessarily very liable to want of good shelter, to +bad food and impure water, suffered much from bilious and intermittent +fevers. As the country has become settled, the land brought under +cultivation, and the habits of the people improved, these diseases have +in a great measure disappeared. Other forms of disease have, however, +taken their place, pulmonary affections and fevers of the typhoid type +being more prevalent than formerly; but as most of the immigrants into +Northern Illinois are from Western New York and New England, where this +latter class of diseases prevails, the people are much less alarmed by +them than they used to be by the bilious diseases, though the latter +were really less dangerous. The coughs, colds, and consumptions are old +acquaintances, and through familiarity have lost their terrors. + +The census of 1850 gives the following comparative view of the annual +percentage of deaths in several States:-- + + Massachusetts, . . 1.95 per cent. + Rhode Island, . . 1.52 " + New York, . . . 1.47 " + Ohio, . . . . 1.44 " + Illinois, . . . . 1.36 " + Missouri, . . . 1.80 " + Louisiana, . . . 2.31 " + Texas, . . . 1.43 " + +This table shows that Illinois stands in point of health among the very +highest of the States. + +Having sketched the history and traced the material development of the +Prairie State to the present time, we will close this article with a few +words as to its politics and policy. + +As we have seen, the early settlers of Illinois were from Virginia +and Kentucky, and brought with them the habits, customs, and ideas of +Slaveholders; and though by the sagacity and virtue of a few leading +men the institution of Slavery was kept out, yet for many years the +Democratic Party, always the ally and servant of the Slave-Power, was in +the ascendant. Until 1858, the Legislature and the Executive have always +been Democratic, and the Democratic candidate for the Presidency, from +Jackson down to Buchanan, was sure of the electoral vote of Illinois. +But the growth of the northern half of the State has of late years been +far outstripping that of the southern portion, and the former now has +the majority. We have now a Republican Legislature and a Republican +Governor, and, by the new apportionment soon to be made, the Republican +Party will be much more largely in the ascendant,--so much so, indeed, +that there is no probability of another Democratic Senator being chosen +from Illinois in the next twenty years, Mr. Douglas will be the last of +his race. + +The people of Northern Illinois, who are in future to direct the policy +of the State, are mostly from Western New York and New England. + + "Coelum, non animum mutant." + +They bring with them their unconquered prejudices in favor of freedom; +their great commercial city is as strongly anti-slavery as Worcester +or Syracuse, and has been for years an unsafe spot for a slave-hunter. +Their interests and their sympathies are all with the Northern States. +What idle babble, then, is this theory of a third Confederacy, to be +constructed out of the middle Atlantic States and the Northwest! + +If, as one of our orators says, New England is the brain of this +country, then the Northwest is its bone and muscle, ready to cultivate +its wide prairies and feed the world,--or, if need be, to use the same +strength in crushing treason, and in preserving the Territories for free +settlers. + + + + +CONCERNING FUTURE YEARS + + +Does it ever come across you, my friend, with something of a start, that +things cannot always go on in your lot as they are going now? Does not a +sudden thought sometimes flash upon you, a hasty, vivid glimpse, of what +you will be long hereafter, if you are spared in this world? Our common +way is too much to think that things will always go on as they are +going. Not that we clearly think so: not that we ever put that opinion +in a definite shape, and avow to ourselves that we hold it: but we live +very much under that vague, general impression. We can hardly help it. +When a man of middle age inherits a pretty country-seat, and makes up +his mind that be cannot yet afford to give up business and go to live +there, but concludes that in six or eight years he will be able with +justice to his children to do so, do you think he brings plainly before +him the changes which must be wrought on himself and those around him +by these years? I do not speak of the greatest change of all, which may +come to any of us so very soon: I do not think of what may be done +by unlooked-for accident: I think merely of what must be done by the +passing on of time. I think of possible changes in taste and feeling, +of possible loss of liking for that mode of life. I think of lungs that +will play less freely, and of limbs that will suggest shortened walks, +and dissuade from climbing hills. I think how the children will have +outgrown daisy-chains, or even got beyond the season of climbing trees. +The middle-aged man enjoys the prospect of the time when he shall go to +his country house; and the vague, undefined belief surrounds him, like +an atmosphere, that he and his children, his views and likings, will be +then just such as they are now. He cannot bring it home to him at how +many points change will be cutting into him, and hedging him in, and +paring him down. And we all live very much under that vague impression. +Yet it is in many ways good for us to feel that we are going on, +--passing from the things which surround us,--advancing into the +undefined future, into the unknown land. And I think that sometimes we +all have vivid flashes of such a conviction. I dare say, my friend, you +have seen an old man, frail, soured, and shabby, and you have thought, +with a start, Perhaps _there_ is Myself of Future Years. + +We human beings can stand a great deal. There is great margin allowed by +our constitution, physical and moral. I suppose there is no doubt that +a man may daily for years eat what is unwholesome, breathe air which is +bad, or go through a round of life which is not the best or the right +one for either body or mind, and yet be little the worse. And so men +pass through great trials and through long years, and yet are not +altered so very much. The other day, walking along the street, I saw a +man whom I had not seen for ten years. I knew that since I saw him last +he had gone through very heavy troubles, and that these had sat very +heavily upon him. I remembered how he had lost that friend who was the +dearest to him of all human beings, and I knew how broken down he had +been for many months after that great sorrow came. Yet there he was, +walking along, an unnoticed unit, just like any one else; and he was +looking wonderfully well. No doubt he seemed pale, worn, and anxious: +but he was very well and carefully dressed; he was walking with a brisk, +active step; and I dare say is feeling pretty well reconciled to being +what he is, and to the circumstances amid which he is living. Still, one +felt that somehow a tremendous change had passed over him. I felt +sorry for him, and all the more that he did not seem to feel sorry for +himself. It made me sad to think that some day I should be like him; +that perhaps in the eyes of my juniors I look like him already, careworn +and aging. I dare say in his feeling there was no such sense of falling +off. Perhaps he was tolerably content. He was walking so fast, and +looking so sharp, that I am sure he had no desponding feeling at the +time. Despondency goes with slow movements and with vague looks. The +sense of having materially fallen off is destructive to the eagle-eye. +Yes, he was tolerably content. We can go down-hill cheerfully, save at +the points where it is sharply brought home to us that we are going +down-hill. Lately I sat at dinner opposite an old lady who had the +remains of striking beauty. I remember how much she interested me. Her +hair was false, her teeth were false, her complexion was shrivelled, her +form had lost the round symmetry of earlier years, and was angular and +stiff; yet how cheerful and lively she was! She had gone far down-hill +physically; but either she did not feel her decadence, or she had grown +quite reconciled to it. Her daughter, a blooming matron, was there, +happy, wealthy, good; yet not apparently a whit more reconciled to life +than the aged grandam. It was pleasing, and yet it was sad, to see how +well we can make up our mind to what is inevitable. And such a sight +brings up to one a glimpse of Future Years. The cloud seems to part +before one, and through the rift you discern your earthly track far +away, and a jaded pilgrim plodding along it with weary step; and +though the pilgrim does not look like you, yet you know the pilgrim is +yourself. + +This cannot always go on. To what is it all tending? I am not thinking +now of an outlook so grave, that this is not the place to discuss it. +But I am thinking how everything is going on. In this world there is no +standing still. And everything that belongs entirely to this world, its +interests and occupations, is going on towards a conclusion. It will +all come to an end. It cannot go on forever. I cannot always be writing +sermons as I do now, and going on in this regular course of life. I +cannot always be writing essays. The day will come when I shall have no +more to say, or when the readers of the Magazine will no longer have +patience to listen to me in that kind fashion in which they have +listened so long. I foresee it plainly, this evening,--even while +writing my first essay for the "Atlantic Monthly,"--the time when +the reader shall open the familiar cover, and glance at the table of +contents, and exclaim indignantly, "Here is that tiresome person again: +why will he not cease to weary us?" I write in sober sadness, my friend: +I do not intend any jest. If you do not know that what I have written is +certainly true, you have not lived very long. You have not learned the +sorrowful lesson, that all worldly occupations and interests are wearing +to their close. You cannot keep up the old thing, however much you may +wish to do so. You know how vain anniversaries for the most part are. +You meet with certain old friends, to try to revive the old days; but +the spirit of the old time will not come over you. It is not a spirit +that can be raised at will. It cannot go on forever, that walking down +to church on Sundays, and ascending those pulpit-steps; it will change +to feeling, though I humbly trust it may be long before it shall change +in fact. Don't you all sometimes feel something like that? Don't you +sometimes look about you and say to yourself, That furniture will wear +out: those window-curtains are getting sadly faded; they will not last a +lifetime? Those carpets must be replaced some day; and the old patterns +which looked at you with a kindly, familiar expression, through these +long years, must be among the old familiar faces that are gone. These +are little things, indeed, but they are among the vague recollections +that bewilder our memory; they are among the things which come up in the +strange, confused remembrance of the dying man in the last days of life. +There is an old fir-tree, a twisted, strange-looking fir-tree, which +will be among my last recollections, I know, as it was among my first. +It was always before my eyes, when I was three, four, five years old: I +see the pyramidal top, rising over a mass of shrubbery; I see it always +against a sunset-sky; always in the subdued twilight in which we seem to +see things in distant years. These old friends will die, you think; +who will take their place? You will be an old gentleman, a frail old +gentleman, wondered at by younger men, and telling them long stones +about the days when Lincoln was President, like those which weary you +now about the War of 1812. It will not be the same world then. Your +children will not be always children. Enjoy their fresh youth while it +lasts, for it will not last long. Do not skim over the present too fast, +through a constant habit of onward-looking. Many men of an anxious turn +are so eagerly concerned in providing for the future, that they hardly +remark the blessings of the present. Yet it is only because the future +will some day be present, that it deserves any thought at all. And many +men, instead of heartily enjoying present blessings while they are +present, train themselves to a habit of regarding these things as merely +the foundation on which they are to build some vague fabric of they know +not what. I have known a clergyman, who was very fond of music, and in +whose church the music was very fine, who seemed incapable of enjoying +its solemn beauty as a thing to be enjoyed while passing, but who +persisted in regarding each beautiful strain merely as a promising +indication of what his choir would come at some future time to be. It is +a very bad habit, and one which grows, unless repressed. You, my reader, +when you see your children racing on the green, train yourself to regard +all that as a happy end in itself. Do not grow to think merely that +those sturdy young limbs promise to be stout and serviceable when they +are those of a grown-up man; and rejoice in the smooth little forehead +with its curly hair, without any forethought of how it is to look some +day when overshadowed (as it is sure to be) by the great wig of the Lord +Chancellor. Good advice: let us all try to take it. Let all happy things +be not merely regarded as means, but enjoyed as ends. Yet it is in the +make of our nature to be ever onward-looking; and we cannot help it. +When you get the first number for the year of the magazine which you +take in, you instinctively think of it as the first portion of a new +volume; and you are conscious of a certain, though alight, restlessness +in the thought of a thing incomplete, and of a wish that you had the +volume completed. And sometimes, thus looking onward into the future, +you worry yourself with little thoughts and cares. There is that old +dog: you have had him for many years; he is growing stiff and frail; +what are you to do when he dies? When he is gone, the new dog you get +will never be like him; he may be, indeed, a far handsomer and more +amiable animal, but he will not be your old companion; he will not be +surrounded with all those old associations, not merely with your own +by-past life, but with the lives, the faces, and the voices of those who +have left you, which invest with a certain sacredness even that humble, +but faithful friend. He will not have been the companion of your +youthful walks, when you went at a pace which now you cannot attain. He +will just be a common dog; and who that has reached your years cares +for _that_? The other, indeed, was a dog too; but that was merely the +substratum on which was accumulated a host of recollections: it is _Auld +Lang Syne_ that walks into your study, when your shaggy friend of ten +summers comes stiffly in, and after many querulous turnings lays himself +down on the rug before the fire. Do you not feel the like when you +look at many little matters, and then look into the Future Years? That +harness,--how will you replace it? It will be a pang to throw it by; +and it will be a considerable expense, too, to get a new suit. Then you +think how long harness may continue to be serviceable. I once saw, on a +pair of horses drawing a stage-coach among the hills, a set of harness +which was thirty-five years old. It had been very costly and grand when +new; it had belonged for some of its earliest years to a certain wealthy +nobleman. The nobleman had been for many years in his grave, but there +was his harness still. It was tremendously patched, and the blinkers +were of extraordinary aspect; but it was quite serviceable. There is +comfort for you, poor country parsons! How thoroughly I understand your +feeling about such little things! I know how you sometimes look at your +phaëton or your dog-cart; and even while the morocco is fresh, and the +wheels still are running with their first tires, how you think you see +it after it has grown shabby and old-fashioned. Yes, you remember, +not without a dull kind of pang, that it is wearing out. You have a +neighbor, perhaps, a few miles off, whose conveyance, through the wear +of many years, has become remarkably seedy; and every time you meet it +you think that there you see your own, as it will some day be. Every dog +has his day: but the day of the rational dog is overclouded in a fashion +unknown to his inferior fellow-creature; it is overclouded by the +anticipation of the coming day which will not be his. You remember how +that great, though morbid man, John Poster, could not heartily enjoy the +summer weather, for thinking how every sunny day that shone upon him +was a downward step towards the winter gloom. Each indication that the +season was progressing, even though progressing as yet only to greater +beauty, filled him with great grief. "I have seen a fearful sight +to-day," he would say,--"I have seen a buttercup." And we know, of +course, that in his case there was nothing like affectation; it was only +that, unhappily for himself, the bent of his mind was so onward-looking, +that he saw only a premonition of the snows of December in the roses of +June. It would be a blessing, if we could quite discard the tendency. +And while your trap runs smoothly and noiselessly, while the leather is +fresh and the paint unscratched, do not worry yourself with visions of +the day when it will rattle and creak, and when you will make it wait +for you at the corner of back-streets when you drive into town. Do not +vex yourself by fancying that you will never have heart to send off the +old carriage, nor by wondering where you shall find the money to buy a +new one. + +Have you ever read the "Life of Mansie Wauch, Tailor in Dalkeith," by +that pleasing poet and most amiable man, the late David Macbeth Moir? +I have been looking into it lately; and I have regretted much that the +Lowland Scotch dialect is so imperfectly understood in England, and that +even where so far understood its raciness is so little felt; for great +as is the popularity of that work, it is much less known than it +deserves to be. Only a Scotchman can thoroughly appreciate it. It is +curious, and yet it is not curious, to find the pathos and the polish of +one of the most touching and elegant of poets in the man who has +with such irresistible humor, sometimes approaching to the farcical, +delineated humble Scotch life. One passage in the book always struck me +very much. We have in it the poet as well as the humorist and it is a +perfect example of what I have been trying to describe in the pages +which you have read. I mean the passage in which Mansie tells us of a +sudden glimpse which, in circumstances of mortal terror, he once had of +the future. On a certain "awful night" the tailor was awakened by cries +of alarm, and, looking out, he saw the next house to his own was on fire +from cellar to garret. The earnings of poor Mansie's whole life were +laid out on his stock in trade and his furniture, and it appeared likely +that these would be at once destroyed. + +"Then," says he, "the darkness of the latter days came over my spirit +like a vision before the prophet Isaiah; and I could see nothing in the +years to come but beggary and starvation,--myself a fallen-back old man, +with an out-at-the-elbows coat, a greasy hat, and a bald brow, +hirpling over a staff, requeeshting an awmous; Nanse a broken-hearted +beggar-wife, torn down to tatters, and weeping like Rachel when she +thought on better days; and poor wee Benjie going from door to door with +a meal-pock on his back." + +Ah, there is exquisite pathos _there_, as well as humor; but the thing +for which I have quoted that sentence is its startling truthfulness. You +have all done what Mansie Wauch did, I know. Every one has his own way +of doing it, and it is his own especial picture which each sees; but +there has appeared to us, as to Mansie, (I must recur to my old figure,) +as it were a sudden rift in the clouds that conceal the future, and +we have seen the way, far ahead,--the dusty way,--and an aged pilgrim +pacing slowly along it; and in that aged figure we have each recognized +our own young self. How often have I sat down on the mossy wall that +surrounded my churchyard, when I had more time for reverie than I have +now,--sat upon the mossy wall, under a great oak, whose branches came +low down and projected far out,--and looked at the rough gnarled bark, +and at the pacing river, and at the belfry of the little church, and +there and then thought of Mansie Wauch and of his vision of Future +Years! How often in these hours, or in long solitary walks and rides +among the hills, have I had visions, clear as that of Mansie Wauch, of +how I should grow old in my country parish! Do not think that I wish or +intend to be egotistical, my friendly reader. I describe these feelings +and fancies because I think this is the likeliest way in which to reach +and describe your own. There was a rapid little stream that flowed, in +a very lonely place, between the highway and a cottage to which I often +went to see a poor old woman; and when I came out of the cottage, having +made sure that no one saw me, I always took a great leap over the little +stream, which saved going round a little way. And never once, for +several years, did I thus cross it without seeing a picture as clear to +the mind's eye as Mansie Wauch's,--a picture which made me walk very +thoughtfully along for the next mile or two. It was curious to think how +one was to get through the accustomed duty after having grown old and +frail. The day would come when the brook could be crossed in that brisk +fashion no more. It must be an odd thing for the parson to walk as an +old man into the pulpit, still his own, which was his own when he was a +young man of six-and-twenty. What a crowd of old remembrances must be +present each Sunday to the clergyman's mind, who has served the same +parish and preached in the same church for fifty years! Personal +identity, continued through the successive stages of life, is a +commonplace thing to think of; but when it is brought home to your own +case and feeling, it is a very touching and a very bewildering thing. +There are the same trees and hills as when you were a boy; and when each +of us comes to his last days in this world, how short a space it will +seem since we were little children! Let us humbly hope, that, in that +brief space parting the cradle from the grave, we may (by help from +above) have accomplished a certain work which will cast its blessed +influence over all the years and all the ages before us. Yet it remains +a strange thing to look forward and to see yourself with gray hair, and +not much even of that; to see your wife an old woman, and your little +boy or girl grown up into manhood or womanhood. It is more strange still +to fancy you see them all going on as usual in the round of life, and +you no longer among them. You see your empty chair. There is your +writing-table and your inkstand; there are your books, not so carefully +arranged as they used to be; perhaps, on the whole, less indication than +you might have hoped that they miss you. All this is strange when you +bring it home to your own case; and that hundreds of millions have felt +the like makes it none the less strange to you. The commonplaces of life +and death are not commonplace when they befall ourselves. It was in +desperate hurry and agitation that Mansie Wauch saw his vision; and in +like circumstances you may have yours too. But for the most part such +moods come in leisure,--in saunterings through the autumn woods,--in +reveries by the winter fire. + +I do not think, thus musing upon our occasional glimpses of the Future, +of such fancies as those of early youth,--fancies and anticipations of +greatness, of felicity, of fame; I think of the onward views of men +approaching middle age, who have found their place and their work in +life, and who may reasonably believe, that, save for great unexpected +accidents, there will be no very material change in their lot till that +"change come" to which Job looked forward four thousand years since. +There are great numbers of educated folk who are likely always to live +in the same kind of house, to have the same establishment, to associate +with the same class of people, to walk along the same streets, to look +upon the same hills, as long as they live. The only change will be the +gradual one which will be wrought by advancing years. + +And the onward view of such people in such circumstances is generally a +very vague one. It is only now and then that there comes the startling +clearness of prospect so well set forth by Mansie Wauch. Yet sometimes, +when such a vivid view comes, it remains for days, and is a painful +companion of your solitude. Don't you remember, clerical reader of +thirty-two, having seen a good deal of an old parson, rather sour in +aspect, rather shabby-looking, sadly pinched for means, and with powers +dwarfed by the sore struggle with the world to maintain his family and +to keep up a respectable appearance upon his limited resources; perhaps +with his mind made petty and his temper spoiled by the little worries, +the petty malignant tattle and gossip and occasional insolence of a +little backbiting village? and don't you remember how for days you felt +haunted by a sort of nightmare that there was what you would be, if you +lived so long? Yes; you know how there have been times when for ten days +together that jarring thought would intrude, whenever your mind was +disengaged from work; and sometimes, when you went to bed, that thought +kept you awake for hours. You knew the impression was morbid, and you +were angry with yourself for your silliness; but you could not drive it +away. + +It makes a great difference in the prospect of Future Years, if you are +one of those people who, even after middle age, may still make a great +rise in life. This will prolong the restlessness which in others is +sobered down at forty: it will extend the period during which you will +every now and then have brief seasons of feverish anxiety, hope, and +fear, followed by longer stretches of blank disappointment. And it will +afford the opportunity of experiencing a vividly new sensation, and of +turning over a quite new leaf, after most people have settled to the +jog-trot at which the remainder of the pilgrimage is to be covered. A +clergyman of the Church of England may be made a bishop, and exchange a +quiet rectory for a palace. No doubt the increase of responsibility is +to a conscientious man almost appalling; but surely the rise in life +is great. There you are, one of four-and-twenty, selected out of near +twenty thousand. It is possible, indeed, that you may feel more reason +for shame than for elation at the thought. A barrister unknown to fame, +but of respectable standing, may be made a judge. Such a man may even, +if he gets into the groove, be gradually pushed on till he reaches an +eminence which probably surprises himself as much as any one else. A +good speaker in Parliament may at sixty or seventy be made a Cabinet +Minister. And we can all imagine what indescribable pride and elation +must in such cases possess the wife and daughters of the man who has +attained this decided step in advance. I can say sincerely that I never +saw human beings walk with so airy tread, and evince so fussily their +sense of a greatness more than mortal, as the wife and the daughter of +an amiable but not able bishop I knew in my youth, when they came to +church on the Sunday morning on which the good man preached for the +first time in his lawn sleeves. Their heads were turned for the time; +but they gradually came right again, as the ladies became accustomed to +the summits of human affairs. Let it be said for the bishop himself, +that there was not a vestige of that sense of elevation about him. He +looked perfectly modest and unaffected. His dress was remarkably ill put +on, and his sleeves stuck out in the most awkward fashion ever assumed +by drapery. I suppose that sometimes these rises in life come very +unexpectedly. I have heard of a man who, when he received a letter from +the Prime Minister of the day offering him a place of great dignity, +thought the letter was a hoax, and did not notice it for several days. +You could not certainly infer from his modesty what has proved to be the +fact, that he has filled his place admirably well. The possibility of +such material changes must no doubt tend to prolong the interest in +life, which is ready to flag as years go on. But perhaps with the +majority of men the level is found before middle age, and no very great +worldly change awaits them. The path stretches on, with its ups and +downs; and they only hope for strength for the day. But in such men's +lot of humble duty and quiet content there remains room for many fears. +All human beings who are as well off as they can ever be, and so who +have little room for hope, seem to be liable to the invasion of great +fear as they look into the future. It seems to be so with kings, and +with great nobles. Many such have lived in a nervous dread of change, +and have ever been watching the signs of the times with apprehensive +eyes. Nothing that can happen can well make such better; and so they +suffer from the vague foreboding of something which will make them +worse. And the same law reaches to those in whom hope is narrowed down, +not by the limit of grand possibility, but of little,--not by the fact +that they have got all that mortal can get, but by the fact that they +have got the little which is all that Providence seems to intend to give +to _them_. And, indeed, there is something that is almost awful, when +your affairs are all going happily, when your mind is clear and equal +to its work, when your bodily health is unbroken, when your home is +pleasant, when your income is ample, when your children are healthy and +merry and hopeful,--in looking on to Future Years. The more happy +you are, the more there is of awe in the thought how frail are the +foundations of your earthly happiness,--what havoc may be made of them +by the chances of even a single day. It is no wonder that the solemnity +and awfulness of the Future have been felt so much, that the languages +of Northern Europe have, as I dare say you know, no word which expresses +the essential notion of Futurity. You think, perhaps, of _shall_ +and _will_. Well, these words have come now to convey the notion of +Futurity; but they do so only in a secondary fashion. Look to their +etymology, and you will see that they _imply_ Futurity, but do not +_express_ it. _I shall_ do such a thing means _I am bound to do it, I am +under an obligation to do it. I will_ do such a thing means _I intend to +do it. It is my present purpose to do it_. Of course, if you are under +an obligation to do anything, or if it be your intention to do anything, +the probability is that the thing will be done; but the Northern family +of languages ventures no nearer than _that_ towards the expression of +the bare, awful idea of Future Time. It was no wonder that Mr. Croaker +was able to east a gloom upon the gayest circle, and the happiest +conjuncture of circumstances, by wishing that all might be as well that +day six months. Six months! What might that time not do? Perhaps you +have not read a little poem of Barry Cornwall's, the idea of which must +come home to the heart of most of us:-- + + "Touch us gently, Time! + Let us glide adown thy stream + Gently,--as we sometimes glide + Through a quiet dream. + Humble voyagers are we, + Husband, wife, and children three;-- + One is lost,--an angel, fled + To the azure overhead. + + "Touch us gently, Time! + We've not proud nor soaring wings: + _Our_ ambition, our content, + Lies in simple things. + Humble voyagers are we, + O'er life's dim, unsounded sea, + Seeking only some calm clime:-- + Touch us gently, gentle Time!" + +I know that sometimes, my friend, you will not have much sleep, if, when +you lay your head on your pillow, you begin to think how much depends +upon your health and life. You have reached now that time at which you +value life and health not so much for their service to yourself, as for +their needfulness to others. There is a petition familiar to me in this +Scotch country, where people make their prayers for themselves, which +seems to me to possess great solemnity and force, when we think of +all that is implied in it. It is, _Spare useful lives!_ One life, the +slender line of blood passing into and passing out of one human heart, +may decide the question, whether wife and children shall grow up +affluent, refined, happy, yes, and _good_, or be reduced to hard +straits, with all the manifold evils which grow of poverty in the case +of those who have been reduced to it after knowing other things. You +often think, I doubt not, in quiet hours, what would become of your +children, if you were gone. You have done, I trust, what you can to care +for them, even from your grave: you think sometimes of a poetical figure +of speech amid the dry technical phrases of English law: you know what +is meant by the law of _Mortmain_; and you like to think that even your +_dead hand_ may be felt to be kindly intermeddling yet in the affairs of +those who were your dearest: that some little sum, slender, perhaps, but +as liberal as you could make it, may come in periodically when it is +wanted, and seem like the gift of a thoughtful heart and a kindly hand +which are far away. Yes, cut down your present income to any extent, +that you may make some provision for your children after you are dead. +You do not wish that they should have the saddest of all reasons for +taking care of you, and trying to lengthen out your life. But even after +you have done everything which your small means permit, you will still +think, with an anxious heart, of the possibilities of Future Years. A +man or woman who has children has very strong reason for wishing to live +as long as may be, and has no right to trifle with health or life. +And sometimes, looking out into days to come, you think of the little +things, hitherto so free from man's heritage of care, as they may some +day be. You see them shabby, and early anxious: can _that_ be the little +boy's rosy face, now so pale and thin? You see them in a poor room, in +which you recognize your study-chairs with the hair coming out of the +cushions, and a carpet which you remember now threadbare and in holes. + +It is no wonder at all that people are so anxious about money. Money +means every desirable material thing on earth, and the manifold +immaterial things which come of material possessions. Poverty is the +most comprehensive earthly evil; all conceivable evils, temporal, +spiritual, and eternal, may come of _that_. Of course, great temptations +attend its opposite; and the wise man's prayer will be what it was long +ago,--"Give me neither poverty nor riches." But let us have no nonsense +talked about money being of no consequence. The want of it has made many +a father and mother tremble at the prospect of being taken from their +children; the want of it has embittered many a parent's dying hours. +You hear selfish persons talking vaguely about faith. You find such +heartless persons jauntily spending all they get on themselves, and then +leaving their poor children to beggary, with the miserable pretext that +they are doing all this through their abundant trust in God. Now this is +not faith; it is insolent presumption. It is exactly as if a man should +jump from the top of St. Paul's, and say that he had faith that the +Almighty would keep him from being dashed to pieces on the pavement. +There is a high authority as to such cases,--"Thou shalt not tempt the +Lord thy God." If God had promised that people should never fall into +the miseries of penury under any circumstances, it would be faith to +trust that promise, however unlikely of fulfilment it might seem in any +particular case. But God has made no such promise; and if you leave your +children without provision, you have no right to expect that they +shall not suffer the natural consequences of your heartlessness and +thoughtlessness. True faith lies in your doing everything you possibly +can, and _then_ humbly trusting in God. And if, after you have done your +very best, you must still go, with but a blank outlook for those you +leave, why, _then_ you may trust them to the Husband of the widow and +Father of the fatherless. Faith, as regards such matters, means firm +belief that God will do all He has promised to do, however difficult or +unlikely. But some people seem to think that faith means firm belief +that God will do whatever they think would suit them, however +unreasonable, and however flatly in the face of all the established laws +of His government. + +We all have it in our power to make ourselves miserable, if we look +far into Future Years and calculate their probabilities of evil, and +steadily anticipate the worst. It is not expedient to calculate too far +ahead. Of course, the right way in this, as in other things, is +the middle way: we are not to run either into the extreme of +over-carefulness and anxiety on the one hand, or of recklessness and +imprudence on the other. But as mention has been made of faith, it may +safely be said that we are forgetful of that rational trust in God which +is at once our duty and our inestimable privilege, if we are always +looking out into the future, and vexing ourselves with endless fears as +to how things are to go then. There is no divine promise, that, if a +reckless blockhead leaves his children to starve, they shall not starve. +And a certain inspired volume speaks with extreme severity of the man +who fails to provide for them of his own house. But there is a divine +promise which says to the humble Christian,--"As thy days, so shall thy +strength be." If your affairs are going on fairly now, be thankful, +and try to do your duty, and to do your best, as a Christian man and a +prudent man, and then leave the rest to God. Your children are about +you; no doubt they may die, and it is fit enough that you should not +forget the fragility of your most prized possessions; it is fit enough +that you should sometimes sit by the fire and look at the merry faces +and listen to the little voices, and think what it would be to lose +them. But it is not needful, or rational, or Christian-like, to be +always brooding on that thought. And when they grow up, it may be hard +to provide for them. The little thing that is sitting on your knee may +before many years be alone in life, thousands of miles from you and from +his early home, an insignificant item in the bitter price which Britain +pays for her Indian Empire. It is even possible, though you hardly for a +moment admit _that_ thought, that the child may turn out a heartless +and wicked man, and prove your shame and heartbreak: all wicked and +heartless men have been the children of somebody; and many of them, +doubtless, the children of those who surmised the future as little as +Eve did when she smiled upon the infant Cain. And the fireside by which +you sit, now merry and noisy enough, may grow lonely,--lonely with the +second loneliness, not the hopeful solitude of youth looking forward, +but the desponding loneliness of age looking back. And it is so with +everything else. Your health may break down. Some fearful accident may +befall you. The readers of the magazine may cease to care for your +articles. People may get tired of your sermons. People may stop buying +your books, your wine, your groceries, your milk and cream. Younger +men may take away your legal business. Yet how often these fears prove +utterly groundless! It was good and wise advice, given by one who had +managed, with a cheerful and hopeful spirit, to pass through many trying +and anxious years, to "take short views":--not to vex and worry yourself +by planning too far ahead. And a wiser than the wise and cheerful Sydney +Smith had anticipated his philosophy. You remember Who said, "Take no +thought"--that is, no over-anxious and over-careful thought--"for the +morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself." +Did you ever sail over a blue summer sea towards a mountainous coast, +frowning, sullen, gloomy: and have you not seen the gloom retire before +you as you advanced; the hills, grim in the distance, stretch into sunny +slopes when you neared them; and the waters smile in cheerful light, +that looked so black when they were far away? And who is there that has +not seen the parallel in actual life? We have all known the anticipated +ills of life--the danger that looked so big, the duty that looked so +arduous, the entanglement that we could not see our way through--prove +to have been nothing more than spectres on the far horizon; and when +at length we reached them, all their difficulty had vanished into air, +leaving us to think what fools we had been for having so needlessly +conjured up phantoms to disturb our quiet. Yes, there is no doubt of +it, a very great part of all we suffer in this world is from the +apprehension of things that never come. I remember well how a dear +friend, whom I (and many more) lately lost, told me many times of his +fears as to what he would do in a certain contingency which both he +and I thought was quite sure to come sooner or later. I know that the +anticipation of it caused him some of the most anxious hours of a very +anxious, though useful and honored life. How vain his fears proved! He +was taken from this world before what he had dreaded had cast its most +distant shadow. Well, let me try to discard the notion which has been +sometimes worrying me of late, that perhaps I have written nearly as +many essays as any one will care to read. Don't let any of us give way +to fears which may prove to have been entirely groundless. + +And then, if we are really spared to see those trials we sometimes +think of, and which it is right that we should sometimes think of, the +strength for them will come at the time. They will not look nearly so +black, and we shall be enabled to bear them bravely. There is in human +nature a marvellous power of accommodation to circumstances. We can +gradually make up our mind to almost anything. If this were a sermon +instead of an essay, I should explain my theory of how this comes to +be. I see in all this something beyond the mere natural instinct of +acquiescence in what is inevitable; something beyond the benevolent law +in the human mind, that it shall adapt itself to whatever circumstances +it may be placed in; something beyond the doing of the gentle comforter +Time. Yes, it is wonderful what people can go through, wonderful what +people can get reconciled to. I dare say my friend Smith, when his hair +began to fall off, made frantic efforts to keep it on. I have no doubt +he anxiously tried all the vile concoctions which quackery advertises in +the newspapers, for the advantage of those who wish for luxuriant locks. +I dare say for a while it really weighed upon his mind, and disturbed +his quiet, that he was getting bald. But now he has quite reconciled +himself to his lot; and with a head smooth and sheeny as the egg of +the ostrich, Smith goes on through life, and feels no pang at the +remembrance of the ambrosial curls of his youth. Most young people, +I dare say, think it will be a dreadful thing to grow old: a girl of +eighteen thinks it must be an awful sensation to be thirty. Believe me, +not at all. You are brought to it bit by bit; and when you reach the +spot, you rather like the view. And it is so with graver things. We grow +able to do and to bear that which it is needful that we should do and +bear. As is the day, so the strength proves to be. And you have heard +people tell you truly, that they have been enabled to bear what they +never thought they could have come through with their reason or their +life. I have no fear for the Christian man, so he keeps to the path of +duty. Straining up the steep hill, his heart will grow stout in just +proportion to its steepness. Yes, and if the call to martyrdom came, I +should not despair of finding men who would show themselves equal to it, +even in this commonplace age, and among people who wear Highland cloaks +and knickerbockers. The martyr's strength would come with the martyr's +day. It is because there is no call for it now, that people look so +little like it. + +It is very difficult, in this world, to strongly enforce a truth, +without seeming to push it into an extreme. You are very apt, in +avoiding one error, to run into the opposite error; forgetting that +truth and right lie generally between two extremes. And in agreeing with +Sydney Smith, as to the wisdom and the duty of "taking short views," let +us take care of appearing to approve the doings of those foolish and +unprincipled people who will keep no outlook into the future time at +all. A bee, you know, cannot see more than a single inch before it; and +there are many men, and perhaps more women, who appear, as regards their +domestic concerns, to be very much of bees: not bees in the respect of +being busy; but bees in the respect of being blind. You see this in all +ranks of life. You see it in the artisan, earning good wages, yet with +every prospect of being weeks out of work next summer or winter, who yet +will not be persuaded to lay by a little in preparation for a rainy day. +You see it in the country gentleman, who, having five thousand a year; +spends ten thousand a year; resolutely shutting his eyes to the certain +and not very remote consequences. You see it in the man who walks into a +shop and buys a lot of things which he has not the money to pay for, +in the vague hope that something will turn up. It is a comparatively +thoughtful and anxious class of men who systematically overcloud the +present by anticipations of the future. The more usual thing is to +sacrifice the future to the present; to grasp at what in the way of +present gratification or gain can be got, with very little thought of +the consequences. You see silly women, the wives of men whose families +are mainly dependent on their lives, constantly urging on their husbands +to extravagances which eat up the little provision which might have been +made for themselves and their children when he is gone who earned their +bread. There is no sadder sight, I think, than that which is not a very +uncommon sight, the careworn, anxious husband, laboring beyond his +strength, often sorrowfully calculating how he may make the ends to +meet, denying himself in every way; and the extravagant idiot of a wife, +bedizened with jewelry and arrayed in velvet and lace, who tosses away +his hard earnings in reckless extravagance; in entertainments which +he cannot afford, given to people who do not care a rush for him; in +preposterous dress; in absurd furniture; in needless men-servants; in +green-grocers above measure; in resolute aping of the way of living of +people with twice or three times the means. It is sad to see all the +forethought, prudence, and moderation of the wedded pair confined to one +of them. You would say that it will not be any solid consolation to the +widow, when the husband is fairly worried into his grave at last,--when +his daughters have to go out as governesses, and she has to let +lodgings,--to reflect that while he lived they never failed to have +Champagne at his dinner-parties; and that they had three men to wait at +table on such occasions, while Mr. Smith, next door, had never more than +one and a maidservant. If such idiotic women would but look forward, and +consider how all this must end! If the professional man spends all he +earns, what remains when the supply is cut off; when the toiling head +and hand can toil no more? Ah, a little of the economy and management +which must perforce be practised after _that_ might have tended +powerfully to put off the evil day. Sometimes the husband is merely the +careworn drudge who provides what the wife squanders. Have you not known +such a thing as that a man should be laboring under an Indian sun, and +cutting down every personal expense to the last shilling, that he might +send a liberal allowance to his wife in England; while she meanwhile +was recklessly spending twice what was thus sent her; running up +overwhelming accounts, dashing about to public balls, paying for a +bouquet what cost the poor fellow far away much thought to save, +giving costly entertainments at home, filling her house with idle and +empty-headed scapegraces, carrying on scandalous flirtations; till +it becomes a happy thing, if the certain ruin she is bringing on her +husband's head is cut short by the needful interference of Sir Cresswell +Cresswell? There are cases in which tarring and feathering would soothe +the moral sense of the right-minded onlooker. And even where things are +not so bad as in the case of which we have been thinking, it remains +the social curse of this age, that people with a few hundreds a year +determinedly act in various respects as if they had as many thousands. +The dinner given by a man with eight hundred a year, in certain regions +of the earth which I could easily point out, is, as regards food, wine, +and attendance, precisely the same as the dinner given by another man +who has five thousand a year. When will this end? When will people +see its silliness? In truth, you do not really, as things are in this +country, make many people better off by adding a little or a good deal +to their yearly income. For in all probability they were living up to +the very extremity of their means before they got the addition; and in +all probability the first thing they do, on getting the addition, is so +far to increase their establishment and their expense that it is just +as hard a struggle as ever to make the ends meet. It would not be a +pleasant arrangement, that a man who was to be carried across the +straits from England to France should be fixed on a board so weighted +that his mouth and nostrils should be at the level of the water, thus +that he should be struggling for life, and barely escaping drowning +all the way. Yet hosts of people, whom no one proposes to put under +restraint, do as regards their income and expenditure a precisely +analogous thing. They deliberately weight themselves to that degree that +their heads are barely above water, and that any unforeseen emergency +dips their heads under. They rent a house a good deal dearer than they +can justly afford; and they have servants more and more expensive than +they ought; and by many such things they make sure that their progress +through life shall be a drowning struggle: while, if they would +rationally resolve and manfully confess that they cannot afford to have +things as richer folk have them, and arrange their way of living in +accordance with what they can afford, they would enjoy the feeling of +ease and comfort; they would not be ever on the wretched stretch on +which they are now, nor keeping up the hollow appearance of what is +not the fact. But there are folk who make it a point of honor never to +admit, that, in doing or not doing anything, they are actuated for an +instant by so despicable a consideration as the question whether or not +they can afford it. And who shall reckon up the brains which this social +calamity has driven into disease, or the early paralytic shocks which it +has brought on? + +When you were very young, and looked forward to Future Years, did +you ever feel a painful fear that you might outgrow your early home +affections, and your associations with your native scenes? Did you ever +think to yourself,--Will the day come when I shall have been years away +from that river's side, and yet not care? I think we have all known the +feeling. O plain church, to which I used to go when I was a child, and +where I used to think the singing so very splendid! O little room, where +I used to sleep! and you, tall tree, on whose topmost branch I cut the +initials which perhaps the reader knows! did I not even then wonder to +myself if the time and would ever come when I should be far away from +you,--far away, as now, for many years, and not likely to go back,--and +yet feel entirely indifferent to the matter? and did not I even then +feel a strange pain in the fear that very likely it might? These +things come across the mind of a little boy with a curious grief and +bewilderment. Ah, there is something strange in the inner life of a +thoughtful child of eight years old! I would rather see a faithful +record of his thoughts, feelings, fancies, and sorrows, for a single +week, than know all the political events that have happened during that +space in Spain, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Russia, and Turkey. Even amid +the great grief at leaving home for school in your early days, did you +not feel a greater grief to think that the day might come when you would +not care at all; when your home ties and affections would be outgrown; +when you would be quite content to live on, month after month, far from +parents, sisters, brothers, and feel hardly a perceptible blank when you +remembered that they were far away? But it is of the essence of such +fears, that, when the thing comes that you were afraid of, it has ceased +to be fearful; still it is with a little pang that you sometimes call to +remembrance how much you feared it once. It is a daily regret, though +not a very acute one, (more's the pity,) to be thrown much, in middle +life, into the society of an old friend whom as a boy you had regarded +as very wise, and to be compelled to observe that he is a tremendous +fool. You struggle with the conviction; you think it wrong to give in to +it; but you cannot help it. But it would have been a sharper pang to the +child's heart, to have impressed upon the child the fact, that "Good Mr. +Goose is a fool, and some day you will understand that he is." In those +days one admits no imperfection in the people and the things one likes. +You like a person; and _he is good. That_ seems the whole case. You do +not go into exceptions and reservations. I remember how indignant I +felt, as a boy, at reading some depreciatory criticism of the "Waverley +Novels." The criticism was to the effect that the plots generally +dragged at first, and were huddled up at the end. But to me the novels +were enchaining, enthralling; and to hint a defect in them stunned one. +In the boy's feeling, if a thing be good, why, there cannot be anything +bad about it. But in the man's mature judgment, even in the people he +likes best, and in the things he appreciates most highly, there are many +flaws and imperfections. It does not vex us much now to find that this +is so; but it would have greatly vexed us many years since to have +been told that it would be so. I can well imagine, that, if you told a +thoughtful and affectionate child, how well he would some day get on, +far from his parents and his home, his wish would be that any evil might +befall him rather than that! We shrink with terror from the prospect of +things which we can take easily enough when they come. I dare say Lord +Chancellor Thurlow was moderately sincere when he exclaimed in the House +of Peers, "When I forget my king, may my God forget me!" And you will +understand what Leigh Hunt meant, when, in his pleasant poem of "The +Palfrey," he tells us of a daughter who had lost a very bad and +heartless father by death, that, + + "The daughter wept, and wept the more, + To think her tears would soon be o'er." + +Even in middle age, one sad thought which comes in the prospect of +Future Years is of the change which they are sure to work upon many of +our present views and feelings. And the change, in many cases, will be +to the worse. One thing is certain,--that your temper will grow worse, +if it do not grow better. Years will sour it, if they do not mellow it. +Another certain thing is, that, if you do not grow wiser, you will be +growing more foolish. It is very true that there is no fool so foolish +as an old fool. Let us hope, my friend, that, whatever be our honest +worldly work, it may never lose its interest. We must always speak +humbly about the changes which coming time will work upon us, upon even +our firmest resolutions and most rooted principles; or I should say for +myself that I cannot even imagine myself the same being, with bent less +resolute and heart less warm to that best of all employments which is +the occupation of my life. But there are few things which, as we grow +older, impress us more deeply than the transitoriness of thoughts and +feelings in human hearts. + +Nor am I thinking of contemptible people only, when I say so. I am not +thinking of the fellow who is pulled up in court in an action for breach +of promise of marriage, and who in one letter makes vows of unalterable +affection, and in another letter, written a few weeks or months later, +tries to wriggle out of his engagement. Nor am I thinking of the weak, +though well-meaning lady, who devotes herself in succession to a great +variety of uneducated and unqualified religious instructors; who tells +you one week how she has joined the flock of Mr. A., the converted +prize-fighter, and how she regards him as by far the most improving +preacher she ever heard; and who tells you the next week that she has +seen through the prize-fighter, that he has gone and married a wealthy +Roman Catholic, and that now she has resolved to wait on the ministry of +Mr. B., an enthusiastic individual who makes shoes during the week and +gives sermons on Sundays, and in whose addresses she finds exactly what +suits her. I speak of the better feelings and purposes of wiser, if not +better folk. Let me think here of pious emotions and holy resolutions, +of the best and purest frames of heart and mind. Oh, if we could all +always remain at our best! And after all, permanence is the great test. +In the matter of Christian faith and feeling, in the matter of all our +worthier principles and purposes, that which lasts longest is best. +This, indeed, is true of most things. The worth of anything depends much +upon its durability,--upon the wear that is in it. A thing that is +merely a fine flash and over only disappoint. The highest authority has +recognized this. You remember Who said to his friends, before leaving +them, that He would have them bring forth fruit, and much fruit. But +not even _that_ was enough. The fairest profession for a time, the most +earnest labor for a time, the most ardent affection for a time, would +not suffice. And so the Redeemer's words were,--"I have chosen you, and +ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that _your +fruit should remain."_ Well, let us trust, that, in the most solemn of +all respects, only progress shall be brought to us by all the changes of +Future Years. + +But it is quite vain to think that feelings, as distinguished from +principles, shall not lose much of their vividness, freshness, and +depth, as time goes on. You cannot now by any effort revive the +exultation you felt at some unexpected great success, nor the +heart-sinking of some terrible loss or trial. You know how women, after +the death of a child, determine that every day, as long as they live, +they will visit the little grave. And they do so for a time, +sometimes for a long time; but they gradually leave off. You know how +burying-places are very trimly and carefully kept at first, and how +flowers are hung upon the stone; but these things gradually cease. You +know how many husbands and wives, after their partner's death, determine +to give the remainder of life to the memory of the departed, and would +regard with sincere horror the suggestion that it was possible they +should ever marry again; but after a while they do. And you will even +find men, beyond middle age, who made a tremendous work at their first +wife's death, and wore very conspicuous mourning, who in a very few +months may be seen dangling after some new fancy, and who in the +prospect of their second marriage evince an exhilaration that approaches +to crackiness. It is usual to speak of such things in a ludicrous +manner; but I confess the matter seems to me anything but one to laugh +at. I think that the rapid dying out of warm feelings, the rapid +change of fixed resolutions, is one of the most sorrowful subjects of +reflection which it is possible to suggest. Ah, my friends, after we +die, it would not be expedient, even if it were possible, to come back. +Many of us would not like to find how very little they miss us. But +still, it is the manifest intention of the Creator that strong feelings +should be transitory. The sorrowful thing is when they pass and leave +absolutely no trace behind them. There should always he some corner kept +in the heart for a feeling which once possessed it all. Let us look at +the case temperately. Let us face and admit the facts. The healthy body +and mind can get over a great deal; but there are some things which it +is not to the credit of our nature should ever be entirely got over. +Here are sober truth, and sound philosophy, and sincere feeling +together, in the words of Philip van Artevelde:-- + + "Well, well, she's gone, + And I have tamed my sorrow. Pain and grief + Are transitory things, no less than joy; + And though they leave us not the men we were, + Yet they do leave us. You behold me here, + A man bereaved, with something of a blight + Upon the early blossoms of his life, + And its first verdure,--having not the less + A living root, and drawing from the earth + Its vital juices, from the air its powers: + And surely as man's heart and strength are whole, + His appetites regerminate, his heart + Reopens, and his objects and desires + Spring up renewed." + +But though Artevelde speaks truly and well, you remember how Mr. +Taylor, in that noble play, works out to our view the sad sight of the +deterioration of character, the growing coarseness and harshness, +the lessening tenderness and kindliness, which are apt to come with +advancing years. Great trials, we know, passing over us, may influence +us either for the worse or the better; and unless our nature is a very +obdurate and poor one, though they may leave us, they will not leave us +the men we were. Once, at a public meeting, I heard a man in eminent +station make a speech. I had never seen him before; but I remembered an +inscription which I had read, in a certain churchyard far away, upon the +stone that marked the resting-place of his young wife, who had died many +years before. I thought of its simple words of manly and hearty sorrow. +I knew that the eminence he had reached had not come till she who would +have been proudest of it was beyond knowing it or caring for it. And I +cannot say with what interest and satisfaction I thought I could trace, +in the features which were sad without the infusion of a grain of +sentimentalism, in the subdued and quiet tone of the man's whole aspect +and manner and address, the manifest proof that he had not shut down the +leaf upon that old page of his history, that he had never quite got over +that great grief of earlier years. One felt better and more hopeful for +the sight. I suppose many people, after meeting some overwhelming loss +or trial, have fancied that they would soon die; but that is almost +invariably a delusion. Various dogs have died of a broken heart, but +very few human beings. The Inferior creature has pined away at his +master's loss: as for _us_, it is not that one would doubt the depth +and sincerity of sorrow, but that there is more endurance in our +constitution, and that God has appointed that grief shall rather mould +and influence than kill. It is a much sadder sight than an early death, +to see human beings live on after heavy trial, and sink into something +very unlike their early selves and very inferior to their early selves. +I can well believe that many a human being, if he could have a glimpse +in innocent youth of what he will be twenty or thirty years after, would +pray in anguish to be taken before coming to _that!_ Mansie Wauch's +glimpse of destitution was bad enough; but a million times worse is a +glimpse of hardened and unabashed sin and shame. And it would be no +comfort--it would be an aggravation in that view--to think that by the +time you have reached that miserable point, you will have grown pretty +well reconciled to it. _That_ is the worst of all. To be wicked and +depraved, and to feel it, and to be wretched under it, is bad enough; +but it is a great deal worse to have fallen into that depth of moral +degradation and to feel that really you don't care. The instinct of +accommodation is not always a blessing. It is happy for us, that, though +in youth we hoped to live in a castle or a palace, we can make up our +mind to live in a little parsonage or a quiet street in a country town. +It is happy for us, that, though in youth we hoped to be very great and +famous, we are so entirely reconciled to being little and unknown. But +it is not happy for the poor girl who walks the Haymarket at night that +she feels her degradation so little. It is not happy that she has come +to feel towards her miserable life so differently now from what she +would have felt towards it, had it been set before her while she was the +blooming, thoughtless creature in the little cottage in the country. It +is only by fits and starts that the poor drunken wretch, living in a +garret upon a little pittance allowed him by his relations, who was once +a man of character and hope, feels what a sad pitch he has come to. If +you could get him to feel it constantly, there would be some hope of his +reclamation even yet. + +It seems to me a very comforting thought, in looking on to Future Years, +if you are able to think that you are in a profession or a calling from +which you will never retire. For the prospect of a total change in your +mode of life, and the entire cessation of the occupation which for many +years employed the greater part of your waking thoughts, and all this +amid the failing powers and flagging hopes of declining years, is both a +sad and a perplexing prospect to a thoughtful person. For such a person +cannot regard this great change simply in the light of a rest from toil +and worry; he will know quite well what a blankness and listlessness and +loss of interest in life will come of feeling all at once that you have +nothing at all to do. And so it is a great blessing, if your vocation be +one which is a dignified and befitting one for an old man to be engaged +in, one that beseems his gravity--and his long experience, one that +beseems even his slow movements and his white hairs. It is a pleasant +thing to see an old man a judge; his years become the judgment-seat. But +then the old man can hold such an office only while he retains strength +of body and mind efficiently to perform its duties; and he must do all +his work for himself: and accordingly a day must come when the venerable +Chancellor resigns the Great Seal; when the aged Justice or Baron must +give up his place; and when these honored Judges, though still retaining +considerable vigor, but vigor less than enough for their hard work, are +compelled to feel that their occupation is gone. And accordingly I +hold that what is the best of all professions, for many reasons, is +especially so for this, that you need never retire from it. In the +Church you need not do all your duty yourself. You may get assistance to +supplement your own lessening strength. The energetic young curate or +curates may do that part of the parish work which exceeds the power of +the aging incumbent, while the entire parochial machinery has still the +advantage of being directed by his wisdom and experience, and while the +old man is still permitted to do what he can with such strength as is +spared to him, and to feel that he is useful in the noblest cause yet. +And even to extremest age and frailty,--to age and frailty which would +long since have incapacitated the judge for the bench,--the parish +clergyman may take some share in the much-loved duty in which he has +labored so long. He may still, though briefly, and only now and then, +address his flock from the pulpit, in words which his very feebleness +will make far more touchingly effective than the most vigorous eloquence +and the richest and fullest tones of his young coadjutors. There never +will be, within the sacred walls, a silence and reverence more +profound than when the withered kindly face looks as of old upon the +congregation, to whose fathers its owner first ministered, and which has +grown up mainly under his instruction,--and when the voice that falls +familiarly on so many ears tells again, quietly and earnestly, the old +story which we all need so much to hear. And he may still look in at the +parish school, and watch the growth of a generation that is to do the +work of life when he is in his grave; and kindly smooth the children's +heads; and tell them how One, once a little child, and never more +than a young man, brought salvation alike to young and old. +He may still sit by the bedside of the sick and dying, and +speak to such with the sympathy and the solemnity of one who does +not forget that the last great realities are drawing near to both. But +there are vocations which are all very well for young or middle-aged +people, but which do not quite suit the old. Such is that of the +barrister. Wrangling and hair-splitting, browbeating and bewildering +witnesses, making coarse jokes to excite the laughter of common +jury-men, and addressing such with clap-trap bellowings, are not the +work for gray-headed men. If such remain at the bar, rather let them +have the more refined work of the Equity Courts, where you +address judges, and not juries; and where you spare clap-trap and +misrepresentation, if for no better reason, because you know that these +will not stand you in the slightest stead. The work which best befits +the aged, the work for which no mortal can ever become too venerable and +dignified or too weak and frail, is the work of Christian usefulness and +philanthropy. And it is a beautiful sight to see, as I trust we all have +seen, _that_ work persevered in with the closing energies of life. It +is a noble test of the soundness of the principle that prompted to its +first undertaking. It is a hopeful and cheering sight to younger men, +looking out with something of fear to the temptations and trials of the +years before them. Oh! if the gray-haired clergyman, with less now, +indeed, of physical strength and mere physical warmth, yet preaches, +with the added weight and solemnity of his long experience, the same +blessed doctrines now, after forty years, that he preached in his +early prime; if the philanthropist of half a century since is the +philanthropist still,--still kind, hopeful, and unwearied, though with +the snows of age upon his head, and the hand that never told its fellow +of what it did now trembling as it does the deed of mercy; then I think +that even the most doubtful will believe that the principle and the +religion of such men were a glorious reality! The sternest of all +touchstones of the genuineness of our better feelings is the fashion in +which they stand the wear of years. + +But my shortening space warns me to stop; and I must cease, for the +present, from these thoughts of Future Years,--cease, I mean, from +writing about that mysterious tract before us: who can cease from +thinking of it? You remember how the writer of that little poem which +has been quoted asks Time to touch gently him and his. Of course he +spoke as a poet, stating the case fancifully,--but not forgetting, that, +when we come to sober sense, we must prefer our requests to an Ear more +ready to hear us and a Hand more ready to help. It is not to Time that I +shall apply to lead me through life into immortality! And I cannot think +of years to come without going back to a greater poet, whom we need not +esteem the less because his inspiration was loftier than that of the +Muses, who has summed up so grandly in one comprehensive sentence all +the possibilities which could befall _him_ in the days and ages before +him. "Thou shall guide me with Thy counsel, and afterward receive me to +glory!" Let us humbly trust that in that sketch, round and complete, of +all that can ever come to us, my readers and I may be able to read the +history of our Future Years! + + + + +BROTHER JONATHAN'S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE. + + + She has gone,--she has left us in passion and pride,-- + Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side! + She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow, + And turned on her brother the face of a foe! + + O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, + We can never forget that our hearts have been one,-- + Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty's name, + From the fountain of blood with the finger of flame! + + You were always too ready to fire at a touch; + But we said, "She is hasty,--she does not mean much." + We have scowled, when you uttered some turbulent threat; + But Friendship still whispered, "Forgive and forget!" + + Has our love all died out? Have its altars grown cold? + Has the curse come at last which the fathers foretold? + Then Nature must teach us the strength of the chain + That her petulant children would sever in vain. + + They may fight till the buzzards are gorged with their spoil, + Till the harvest grows black as it rots in the soil, + Till the wolves and the catamounts troop from their caves, + And the shark tracks the pirate, the lord of the waves: + + In vain is the strife! When its fury is past, + Their fortunes must flow in one channel at last, + As the torrents that rush from the mountains of snow + Roll mingled in peace through the valleys below. + + Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky: + Man breaks not the medal, when God cuts the die! + Though darkened with sulphur, though cloven with steel, + The blue arch will brighten, the waters will heal! + + O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, + There are battles with Fate that can never be won! + The star-flowering banner must never be furled, + For its blossoms of light are the hope of the world! + + Go, then, our rash sister! afar and aloof,-- + Run wild in the sunshine away from our roof; + But when your heart aches and your feet have grown sore, + Remember the pathway that leads to our door! + + + + +ORIGINAL MEMORIALS OF MRS. PIOZZI. + + +Ninety years ago, one of the pleasantest houses near London, for the +society that gathered within it, was Mr., or rather, Mrs. Thrale's, +at Streatham Park. To be a guest there was to meet the best people in +England, and to hear such good talk that much of it has not lost its +flavor even yet. Strawberry Hill, Holland House, or any other famous +house of that day, has left but faint memories of itself, compared with +those of Streatham. Boswell, the most sagacious of men in the hunt after +good company, had the good wit and good fortune to get entrance here. +One day, in 1769, Dr. Johnson delivered him "a very polite card" from +Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, inviting him to Streatham. "On the 6th of October, +I complied," he says, "with their obliging invitation, and found, at +an elegant villa six miles from town, every circumstance that can make +society pleasing." Upon the walls of the library hung portraits of the +master and mistress of the house, and of their most familiar friends and +guests, all by Sir Joshua. Madame d'Arblay, in her most entertaining +"Diary," gives a list of them,--and a list is all that is needed of such +famous names. "Mrs. Thrale and her eldest daughter were in one piece, +over the fireplace, at full length. The rest of the pictures were all +three-quarters. Mr. Thrale was over the door leading to his study. +The general collection then began by Lord Sandys and Lord Westcote, +(Lyttelton,) two early noble friends of Mr. Thrale. Then followed Dr. +Johnson, Mr. Burke, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Murphy, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Baretti, +Sir Robert Chambers, and Sir Joshua Reynolds himself,--all painted in +the highest style of this great master, who much delighted in this his +Streatham Gallery. There was place left but for one more frame when the +acquaintance with Dr. Burney began at Streatham." + +A household which had such men for its intimates must have had a more +than common charm in itself, and at Streatham this charm lay chiefly in +the character of its mistress. It was Mrs. Thrale who had the rare power +"to call together the most select company when it pleased her." In 1770 +she was thirty years old. A small and not beautiful woman, but with +a variety of expression that more than compensated for the want of +handsome features, with a frank, animated manner, and that highest tact +which sets guests at ease, there was something specially attractive in +her first address. But beyond this she was the pleasantest converser of +all the ladies of the day. In that art in which one "has all mankind for +competitors," there was no one equal to her in her way. Gifted with the +readiest of well-stored memories, with a lively wit and sprightly fancy, +with a strong desire to please and an ambition to shine, she never +failed to win admiration, while her sweetness of temper and delicate +consideration for others gained for her a general regard. For many years +she was the friend who did most to make Johnson's life happy. He was a +constant inmate at Streatham. "I long thought you," wrote he, "the first +of womankind." It was her "kindness which soothed twenty years of a life +radically wretched." "To see and hear you," he wrote, "is always to hear +wit and to see virtue." She belonged, in truth, to the most serviceable +class of women,--by no means to the highest order of her sex. She was +not a woman of deep heart, or of noble or tender feeling; but she had +kindly and ready sympathies, and such a disposition to please as gave +her the capacity of pleasing. Her very faults added to her success. She +was vain and ambitious; but her vanity led her to seek the praises of +others, and her ambition taught her how to gain them. She was selfish; +but she pleased herself not at the expense of others, but by paying them +attentions which returned to her in personal gratifications. She was +made for such a position as that which she held at Streatham. The +highest eulogy of her is given in an incidental way by Boswell. He +reports Johnson as saying one day, "'How few of his friends' houses +would a man choose to be at when he is sick!' He mentioned one or two. I +recollect only Thrale's." + +All the world of readers know the main incidents of Mrs. Thrale's life. +Her own books, Boswell, Madame d'Arblay, have made us almost as familiar +with her as with Dr. Johnson himself. Not yet have people got tired of +wondering at her marriage with Piozzi, or of amusing themselves with +the gossip of the old lady who remained a wit at eighty years old, and, +having outlived her great contemporaries, was happy in not outliving +her own faculties. Few characters not more remarkable have been more +discussed than hers. Macaulay, with characteristic unfairness, gave +a view of her conduct which Mr. Hayward, in his recently published +entertaining volumes,[A] shows to have been in great part the invention +of the great essayist's lively and unprincipled imagination. In the +autobiographical memorials of Mrs. Piozzi, now for the first time +printed, there is much that throws light on her life, and her relations +with her contemporaries. They do not so much raise one's respect for +her, as present her to us as a very natural and generally likable sort +of woman, even in those acts of her life which have been the most +blamed. + +[Footnote A: _Autobiography, Letters, and Literary Remains of Mrs. +Piozzi (Thrale)_. Edited, with Notes and an Introductory Account of her +Life and Writings, by A. Hayward, Esq., Q.C. In Two Volumes. London, +1861. Reprinted by Ticknor & Fields.] + +If she had but died while she was mistress of Streatham, we should have +only delightful recollections of her. She would have been one of the +most agreeable famous women on record. But the last forty years of her +life were not as charming as the first. Her weaknesses gained mastery +over her, her vanity led her into follies, and she who had once been the +favorite correspondent of Dr. Johnson now appears as the correspondent +of such inferior persona that no association is connected with their +names. Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. Piozzi are two different persons. One +belongs to Streatham, the other to Bath; one is "always young and always +pretty," the other a rouged old woman. But it is unfair to push the +contrast too far. Mrs. Piozzi at seventy or eighty was as sprightly, +as good-natured, as Mrs. Thrale at thirty or forty. She never lost her +vivacity, never her desire to please. But it is a sadly different thing +to please Dr. Johnson, Burke, or Sir Joshua, and to please + + Those real genuine no-mistake Tom Thumbs, + The little people fed on great men's crumbs. + +One of the most marked and least satisfactory expressions of Mrs. +Piozzi's character during her later years was a fancy that she took to +Conway, a young and handsome actor, who appeared in Bath, where she was +then living, in the year 1819. From the time of her first acquaintance +with him, till her death, in 1821, she treated him with the most +flattering regard,--with an affection, indeed, that might be called +motherly, had there not been in it an element of excitement which was +neither maternal nor dignified. Conway was a gentleman in feeling, and +seems to have had not only a grateful sense of the old lady's partiality +for him, but a sincere interest also in hearing from her of the days and +the friends of her youth. So she wrote letters to him, gave him books +filled with annotations, (it was a favorite habit of hers to write notes +on the margins of books,) wrote for him the story of her life, and drew +on the resources of her marvellous memory for his amusement. The old +woman's kindness was one of the few bright things in poor Conway's +unhappy life. His temperament was morbidly sensitive; and when, in 1821, +while acting in London, Theodore Hook attacked him in the most cruel +and offensive manner in the columns of the "John Bull," he threw up his +engagement, determined to act no more in London, and for a time left the +stage. A year or two afterwards he came to this country, and met with a +very considerable success. But he fancied himself underrated, and, after +performing in Philadelphia in the winter of 1826, he took passage for +Charleston, and on the voyage threw himself overboard and was lost. His +effects were afterwards sold by auction in New York. Among them were +many interesting relics and memorials of Mrs. Piozzi. Mr. Hayward +mentions "a copy of the folio edition of Young's 'Night Thoughts,' in +which he had made a note of its having been presented to him by his +'dearly attached friend, the celebrated Mrs. Piozzi.'" But there were +other books of far greater interest and value than this. There was, as +we have been informed, a copy of Malone's Shakspeare, with numerous +notes in the handwriting of Dr. Johnson,--and a copy of "Prayers and +Meditations by Samuel Johnson," with several additional manuscript +prayers, and Mrs. Piozzi's name upon one of the fly-leaves. But more +curious still was a copy of Mrs. Piozzi's "Journey through France, +Italy, and Germany," both volumes of which are full of marginal notes, +while, inserted at the beginning and the end, are many pages of Mrs. +Piozzi's beautifully written manuscript, containing a narrative and +anecdotes of portions of her life. These volumes now lie before us,[B] +and their unpublished contents are as lively, as entertaining, and as +rich in autobiographic illustration, as any of the material of which Mr. +Hayward's recent book is composed. + +[Footnote B: This unique copy of the _Journey through France_, etc., is +in the possession of Mr. Duncan C. Pell, of Newport, R.I. It is to his +liberality that we are indebted for the privilege of laying before +the readers of the Atlantic the following portions of Mrs. Piozzi's +manuscript.] + +On the first fly-leaf is the following inscription:-- + +"These Books do not in any wise belong to me; they are the property of +William Augustus Conway, Esq., who left them to my care, for purpose of +putting notes, when he quitted Bath, May 14, 1819. + +"Hester Lynch Piozzi writes this for fear lest her death happening +before his return, these books might be confounded among the others in +her study." + +On the next page the narrative begins, and with a truly astonishing +spirit for the writing of a woman in her eightieth year. Her old +vivacity is still natural to her; there is nothing forced in the +pleasantry of this introduction. + +"A Lady once--'t was many years ago--asked me to lend her a book out +of my library at Streatham Park. 'A book of entertainment,' said J, 'of +course.' 'That I don't know or rightly comprehend;' was her odd answer; +'I wish for an _Abridgment_.' 'An Abridgment of what?' '_That_,' she +replied, 'you must tell _me_, my Dear; for I am no reader, like you and +Dr. Johnson; I only remember that the last book I read was very pretty, +and my husband called it an Abridgment.'.... And if I give some account +of myself here in these few little sheets prefixed to my 'Journey thro' +Italy,' you must kindly accept + +"The Abridgment." + +The first pages of the manuscript are occupied by Mrs. Piozzi with an +account of her family and of her own early life. They contain in brief +the same narrative that she gave in her "Autobiographical Memoirs," +printed by Mr. Hayward, in his first volume. Here is a story, however, +which we do not remember to have seen before. + +"My heart was free, my head full of Authors, Actors, Literature in every +shape; and I had a dear, dear friend, an old Dr. Collier, who said he +was sixty-six years old, I remember, the day I was sixteen, and whose +instructions I prized beyond all the gayeties of early life: nor have I +ever passed a day since we parted in which I have not recollected with +gratitude the boundless obligations that I owe him. He was intimate with +the famous James Harris of Salisbury, Lord Malmesbury's father, of whom +you have heard how Charles Townshend said, when he took his seat in the +House of Commons,--'Who is this man?'--to his next neighbour; +'I never saw him before.' 'Who? Why, Harris the author, that wrote one +book about Grammar [so he did] and one about Virtue.' 'What does he come +here for?' replies Spanish Charles; 'he will find neither Grammar nor +Virtue _here_.' Well, my dear old Dr. Collier had much of both, and +delighted to shake the superflux of his full mind over mine, ready to +receive instruction conveyed with so much tender assiduity." + +In both her autobiographies, the printed as well as the manuscript, Mrs. +Piozzi speaks in very cold and disparaging terms of her first husband, +Mr. Thrale. Her marriage with him had not been a love-match; but we +suspect that the long course of years had been unfavorable to his memory +in her recollection, and that the blame with which his friends visited +her second marriage, which was in all respects an affair of the heart, +produced in her a certain bitterness of feeling toward Mr. Thrale, as if +he had been the author of these reproaches. It is impossible to believe +that he was as indifferent to her as she represents, and that her +marriage with him was not moderately happy. Had it been otherwise, +however well appearances might have been kept up, Dr. Johnson could +hardly have been deceived concerning the truth, and would hardly have +ventured to write to her in his letter of consolation upon Mr. Thrale's +death in 1781,-- + +"He that has given you happiness in marriage, to a degree of which, +without personal knowledge, I should have thought the description +fabulous, can give you another mode of happiness as a mother." + +One of her most decided intellectual characteristics was her +versatility, or, to give it a harder name, what Johnson called her +"instability of attention." Dulness was, in her code, the unpardonable +sin. Variety was the charm of life, and of books. She never dwelt long +on one idea. Her letters and her books are pieces of mosaic-work, the +bits of material being put together without any regular pattern, but +often with a pretty effect. Here is an illustration of her style. + +"In a few years (our Letters tell the date) Johnson was introduced; and +now I must laugh at a ridiculous _Retrospection_. When I was a very +young wench, scarce twelve years old I trust, my notice was strongly +attracted by a Mountebank in some town we were passing through. 'What a +fine fellow!' said I; 'dear Papa, do ask him to dinner with us at our +inn!--or, at least, Merry Andrew, because he could tell us such _clever +stories of his master_.' My Father laughed sans intermission an hour by +the dial, as Jacques once at Motley.--Yet did dear Mr. Conway's fancy +for H.L.P.'s conversation grow up, at first, out of something not unlike +this, when, his high-polished mind and fervid imagination taking fire +from the tall Beacon bearing Dr. Johnson's fame above the clouds, he +thought some information might perhaps be gained by talk with the old +female who so long _carried coals to it_. She has told all, or nearly +all, she knew,-- + + 'And like poor Andrew must advance, + Mean mimic of her master's dance;-- + But similes, like songs in love, + Describing much, too little prove.' + +"So now, leaving Prior's pretty verses, and leaving Dr. Johnson too, who +was himself severely censured for his rough criticism on a writer who +had pleased all in our Augustan age of Literature, poor H.L.P. turns +egotist at eighty, and tells her own adventures." + +But the octogenarian egotist has something to tell about beside herself. +Here is a passage of interest to the student of Shakspearian localities, +and bearing on a matter in dispute from the days of Malone and Chalmers. + +"For a long time, then,--or I thought it such,--my fate was bound up +with the old Globe Theatre, upon the Bankside, Southwark; the alley it +had occupied having been purchased and thrown down by Mr. Thrale to +make an opening before the windows of our dwelling-house. When it lay +desolate in a black heap of rubbish, my Mother, one day, in joke, +called it the Ruins of Palmyra; and after they had laid it down in a +grass-plot, Palmyra was the name it went by, I suppose, among the clerks +and servants of the brew-house; for when the Quaker Barclay bought the +whole, I read that name with wonder in the Writings."--"But there +were really curious remains of the old Globe Playhouse, which, though +hexagonal in form without, was round within, as circles contain more +space than other shapes, and Bees make their cells in hexagons only +because that figure best admits of junction. Before I quitted the +premises, however, I learned that Tarleton, the actor of those times, +was not buried at St. Saviour's, Southwark, as he wished, near Massinger +and Cower, but at Shoreditch Church. _He_ was the first of the +profession whose fame was high enough to have his portrait solicited for +to be set up as a Sign; and none but he and Garrick, I believe, ever +obtained that honour. Mr. Dance's picture of our friend David lives in a +copy now in Oxford St.,--the character, King Richard." + +Somewhat more than three years after her first husband's death, Mrs. +Thrale, in spite of the opposition of her friends, the repugnance of +her daughters, and the sneers of society, married Piozzi. He was a poor +Italian gentleman, whose only fortune was in his voice and his musical +talent. He had been for some time an admired public singer in London and +Paris. There was nothing against him but the opinion of society. Mrs. +Thrale set this opinion at defiance: a rash thing for a woman to do, and +hardly an excusable one in her case; for she was aware that she would +thus alienate her daughters, and offend her best friends. But she was in +love with him; and though for a time she tried to struggle against her +passion, it finally prevailed over her prudence, her pride, and such +affections as she had for others. Her health suffered during +the struggle, the termination of which she thus narrates in her +"Abridgment." The account differs in some slight particulars from that +in her "Autobiographical Memoirs"; but a comparison between the two +serves rather to confirm than to impugn her general accuracy. + +"I hoped," she says, "in defiance of probability, to live my sorrows +out, and marry the man of my choice. Health, however, began to give +way, as my Letters to Dr. Johnson testify; and when my kind physician, +Dobson, from Liverpool, found it in actual and positive danger,--'Now,' +said he, 'I have respected your delicacy long enough; tell me at once +who he is that holds _such_ a life in his power: for write to him I must +and will; it is my sacred duty.' 'Dear Sir,' said I, 'the difficulty +is to keep him at a distance. Speak to these cruel girls, if you will +speak.' 'One of whose lives your assiduous tenderness,' cried he, +'saved, with my little help, only a month ago!'--and ran up-stairs to +the ladies. 'We know,' was their reply, 'that she is fretting after a +fellow; but where he is--you may ask her--we know not.' 'He is at Milan, +with his friend the Marquis of Aracieli,' said I,--'from whom I had a +letter last week, requesting Piozzi's recall from banishment, as he +gallantly terms it, little conscious of what I suffer.' So we wrote; and +he returned on the eleventh day after receiving the letter. Meanwhile +my health mended, and I waited on the lasses to their own house at +Brighthelmstone, leaving Miss Nicholson, a favorite friend of theirs, +and all their intolerably insolent servants, with them. Piozzi's return +accelerated the recovery of your poor friend, and we married in both +Churches,--at St. James', Bath, on St. James' Day, 1784,--thirty-five +years ago now that I write this Abridgment. When we came to examine +Papers, however, our attorney, Greenland, discovered a _suppression_ +of fifteen hundred pounds, which helped pay our debts, discharge the +mortgage, etc., as Piozzi, like Portia, permitted me not to sleep by his +side with an unquiet soul. He settled everything with his own money, +depended on God and my good constitution for our living long and happily +together,--and so we did, twenty-five years,--said change of scenery +would complete the cure, and carried me off in triumph, as he called +it, to shew his friends in Italy the foreign wife he had so long been +sighing for. 'Ah, Madam!' said the Marquis, when he first saluted me, +'we used to blame dear Piozzi;--now we envy him!'" + +Of Mrs. Piozzi's journey on the Continent we shall speak in another +article. After a residence abroad of two years and a half, she and her +husband returned to London in March, 1787. Mrs. Piozzi had come home +determined to resume, if it were possible, her old place in society, and +to assert herself against the attacks of wits and newspapers, and the +coldness of old friends. She had been hardly and unfairly dealt with +by the public, in regard to her marriage. The appearance, during +her absence, of her volume of "Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson" had given +unfriendly critics an opportunity to pass harsh judgment upon her +literary merits, and had excited the jealousy of rival biographers +of the dead lion. Boswell, Hawkins, Baretti, Chalmers, Peter Pindar, +Gifford, Horace Walpole, all had their fling at her. Never was an +innocent woman in private life more unfeelingly abused, or her name +dragged before the public more wantonly, in squibs and satires, jests +and innuendoes. The women who transgress social conventionalities are +often treated as if they had violated the rules of morals. But she was +not to be put down in this way. Her temperament enabled her to escape +much of the pain which a more sensitive person would have suffered. She +hardened herself against the malice of her satirists; and in doing so, +her character underwent an essential change. She was truly happy with +Piozzi, and she preserved, by strength of will, an inexhaustible fund of +good spirits. + +On first reaching London, "we drove," she writes in the Conway MSS., "to +the Royal Hotel in Pall Mall, and, arriving early, I proposed going to +the Play. There was a small front box, in those days, which held only +two; it made the division, or connexion, with the side boxes, and, +being unoccupied, we sat in it, and saw Mrs. Siddons act Imogen, I well +remember, and Mrs. Jordan, Priscilla Tomboy. Mr. Piozzi was amused, and +the next day was spent in looking at houses, counting the cards left +by old acquaintances, etc. The lady-daughters came, behaved with cold +civility, and asked what I thought of their decision concerning Cecilia, +then at school--No reply was made, or a gentle one; but she was the +first cause of contention among us. The lawyers gave her into my care, +and we took her home to our new habitation in Hanover Square, which we +opened with Music, cards, etc., on, I think, the 22 March. Miss Thrales +refused their company; so we managed as well as we could. Our affairs +were in good order, and money ready for spending. The World, as it is +called, appeared good-humored, and we were soon followed, respected, and +admired. The summer months sent us about visiting and pleasuring, ... +and after another gay London season, Streatham Park, unoccupied by +tenants, called us as if _really home_. Mr. Piozzi, with more generosity +than prudence, spent two thousand pounds on repairing and furnishing it +in 1790;--and we had danced all night, I recollect, when the news came +of Louis Seize's escape from, and recapture by, his rebel subjects." + +Poor old woman, who could thus write of her own daughters!--poor old +woman, who had not heart enough either to keep the love of her children +or to grieve for its loss! Cecilia was her fourth and youngest child, +and her story, as her mother tells it, may as well be finished here. +After speaking in her manuscript of a claim on some Oxfordshire +property, disputed by her daughters, she says, in words hard and cold +as steel,--"We threw it up, therefore, and contented ourselves with the +plague Cecilia gave us, who, by dint of intriguing lovers, teazed my +soul out before she was fifteen,--when she fortunately ran away, +jumping out of the window at Streatham Park, with Mr. Mostyn of +Segraid,--a young man to whom Sir Thomas Mostyn's title will go, if he +does not marry, but whose property, being much encumbered, made him no +match for Cecy and her forty thousand pounds; and we were censured +for not taking better care, and suffering her to wed a _Welsh_ +gentleman,--object of ineffable contempt to the daughters of Mr. Thrale, +with whom she always held correspondence while living with us, who +indulged her in every expense and every folly,--although allowed only +one hundred and forty pounds per ann. on her account." + +After two or three years spent in London, the Piozzis resided for some +time at Streatham,--how changed in mistress and in guests from the +Streatham of which Mrs. Thrale had been the presiding genius! But after +a while they removed to Wales, where, on an old family estate belonging +to Mrs. Piozzi, they built a house, and christened the place with the +queer Welsh-Italian compound name of Brynbella. "Mr. Piozzi built the +house for me, he said; my own old chateau, Bachygraig by name, tho' very +curious, was wholly uninhabitable; and we called the Italian villa he +set up as mine in the Vale of Cluid, North Wales, Brynbella, or the +beautiful brow, making the name half Welsh and half Italian, as we +were." Here they lived, with occasional visits to other places, during +the remainder of Piozzi's life. "Our head quarters were in Wales, where +dear Piozzi repaired my church, built a new vault for my old ancestors, +chose the place in it where he and I are to repose together..... He +lived some twenty-five years with me, however, but so punished with +Gout that we found Bath the best wintering-place for many, many +seasons.--Mrs. Siddons' last appearance there he witnessed, when she +played Calista to Dimond's Lothario, in which he looked _so_ like +Garrick it shocked us _all three_, I believe; for Garrick adored Mr. +Piozzi, and Siddons hated the little great man to her heart. Poor +Dimond! he was a well-bred, pleasing, worthy creature, and did the +honours of his own house and table with peculiar grace indeed. No +likeness in private life or manner,--none at all; no wit, no fun, no +frolic humour had Mr. Dimond:--no grace, no dignity, no real unaffected +elegance of mien or behaviour had his predecessor, David,--whose +partiality to my fastidious husband was for that reason never returned. +Merriment, difficult for _him_ to comprehend, made no amends for the +want of that which no one understood better;--so he hated all the wits +but Murphy." + +And now that we are on anecdotes of the Theatre, here is another good +story, which belongs to a somewhat earlier time, but of which Mrs. +Piozzi does not mention the exact date. "The Richmond Theatre at that +time attracted all literary people's attention, while a Coterie of +Gentlemen and Noblemen and Ladies entertained themselves with getting up +Plays, and acting them at the Duke of Richmond's house, Whitehall. Lee's +'Theodosius' was the favorite. Lord Henry Fitzgerald played Varanus very +well,--for a Dilettante; and Lord Derby did his part surprisingly. But +there was a song to be sung to Athenais, while she, resolving to take +poison, sits in a musing attitude. Jane Holman--then Hamilton--_would_ +sing an air of Sacchini, and the manager _would not_ hear Italian words. +The ballad appointed by the author was disapproved by all, and I pleased +everybody by my fortunate fancy of adapting some English verses to the +notes of Sacchini's song; and Jane Hamilton sung them enchantingly:-- + + 'Vain's the breath of Adulation, + Vain the tears of tenderest Passion, + Whilst a strong Imagination + Holds the wandering Mind away; + Art in vain attempts to borrow + Notes to soothe a rooted sorrow; + Fixed to die, and die to-morrow, + What can touch her soul to-day?' + +"The lines were printed, but I lost them. 'What a wild Tragedy is this!' +said I to Hannah More, who was one of the audience. 'Wild enough,' was +her reply; 'but there's good Poetry in it, and good Passion, _and they +will always do_.' + +"Hannah More never goes now to a Theatre. How long is H.L. Piozzi likely +to be seen there? How long will Mr. Conway keep the stage?" + +In the year 1798, the family of Mr. Piozzi having suffered greatly from +the French invasion of Lombardy, he sent for the son of his youngest +brother, a "little boy just turned of five years old." "We have got him +here," wrote Mrs. Piozzi in a letter from Bath, dated January, 1799, +published by Mr. Hayward, "and his uncle will take him to school next +week." "As he was by a lucky chance baptized, in compliment to me, John +Salusbury, [Salusbury was her family name,] he will be known in England +by no other, and it will be forgotten he is a foreigner." "My poor +little boy from Lombardy said, as I walked with him across our market, +'These are sheeps' heads, are they not, aunt? I saw a hasket of men's +heads at Brescia.'" Little John, though he went to school, was often at +home. After writing of the troubles with her own daughters, Mrs. Piozzi +says in the manuscript before us,--"Had we vexations enough? We had +certainly many pleasures. The house in Wales was beautiful, and the Boy +was beautiful too. Mr. Piozzi said I had spoiled my own children and was +spoiling his. My reply was, that I loved spoiling people, and hated any +one I could not spoil. Am I not now trying to spoil dear Mr. Conway?" + +Piozzi was not far from wrong in his judgment of her treatment of this +boy, if we may trust to her complaints of his coldness and indifference +to her. In 1814, at the time of his marriage, five years after Piozzi's +death, she gave to him her Welsh estate; and it may have been a greater +satisfaction to her than any gratification of the affections could have +afforded, to see him, before she died, high sheriff of his county, and +knighted as Sir John Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury. + +There was little gayety in the life at Brynbella, or at Bath,--and the +society that Mrs. Piozzi now saw was made up chiefly of new and for the +most part uninteresting acquaintances. The old Streatham set, with a few +exceptions, were dead, and of the few that remained none retained their +former relations with its mistress. But she suffered little from the +change, was contented to win and accept the flattery of inferior people, +and, instead of spending her faculties in soothing the "radically +wretched life" of Johnson, used them, perhaps not less happily, in +lightening the sufferings of Piozzi during his last years. She tells a +touching story of him in these days. + +"Piozzi's fine hand upon the organ and pianoforte deserted him. Gout, +such as I never knew, fastened on his fingers, distorting them into +every dreadful shape. ... A little girl, shewn to him as a musical +wonder of five years old, said,' Pray, Sir, why are your fingers wrapped +up in black silk so?' 'My Dear,' replied he, 'they are in mourning for +my Voice.' 'Oh, me!' cries the child, _'is she dead_?' He sung an easy +song, and the Baby exclaimed, 'Ah, Sir! you are very naughty,--you tell +fibs!' Poor Dears! and both gone now!!" + +There were no morbid sensibilities in Mrs. Piozzi's composition. She can +tell all her sorrows without ever a tear. A mark of exclamation looks +better than a blot. And yet she had suffered; but it had been with such +suffering as makes the soul hard rather than tender. The pages with +which she ends this narrative of her life are curiously characteristic. + +"When life was gradually, but perceptibly, closing round him [Piozzi] at +Bath, in 1808, I asked him if he would wish to converse with a Romish +priest,--we had full opportunity there. 'By no means,' said he. 'Call +Mr. Leman of the Crescent.' We did so,--poor Bessy ran and fetched him. +Mr. Piozzi received the blessed Sacrament at his hands; but recovered +sufficiently to go home and die in his own house. I sent for Salusbury, +but he came three hours too late,--his master, Mr. Shephard, with him. +In another year he went to Oxford, where he spent me above seven hundred +pounds per annum, and kept me in continual terror lest the bad habits of +the place should ruin him, body, soul, and purse. His old school-fellow, +Smythe Owen,--then. Pemberton,--accompanied him, and to that gentleman's +sister he of course gave his heart. The Lady and her friends took +advantage of my fondness, and insisted on my giving up the Welsh +estate. I did so, hoping to live at last with my own children, at +Streatham Park;--there, however, I found no solace of the sort. So, +after entangling my purse with new repairing and furnishing that place, +retirement to Bath with my broken heart and fortune was all I could wish +or expect. Thither I hasted, heard how the possessors of Brynbella, +lived and thrived, but + + 'Who set the twigs will he remember + Who is in haste to sell the timber?' + +"Well, no matter! One day before I left it there was talk how Love had +always Interest annexed to it. 'Nay, then,' said I, 'what is my love +for Salusbury?' 'Oh!' replied Shephard, 'there is Interest there. Mrs. +Piozzi cannot, could not, I am sure, exist without some one upon whom to +energize her affections; his Uncle is gone, and she is much obliged +to young Salusbury for being ready at her hand to pet and spoil; +her children will not suffer her to love them, and'--with a coarse +laugh--'what will she do when this fellow throws her off, as he soon +will?' Shephard was right enough. I sunk into a stupor, worse far +than all the torments I had endured: but when Canadian Indians take a +prisoner, dear Mr. Conway knows what agonies they put them to; the +man bears all without complaining,--smokes, dances, triumphs in his +anguish,-- + + 'For the son of Alcnoomak shall never complain.' + +"When a little remission comes, however, then comes the torpor too;--he +cannot then be waked by pain or moderate pleasure: and such was my +case, when your talents roused, your offered friendship opened my heart +to enjoyment Oh! never say hereafter that the obligations are on your +side. Without you, dulness, darkness, stagnation of every faculty would +have enveloped and extinguished all the powers of hapless + +"H.L.P." + +The picture that Mrs. Piozzi paints of herself in these last words is a +sad one. She herself was unconscious, however, of its real sadness. In +its unintentional revelations it shows us the feebleness without the +dignity of old age, vivacity without freshness of intellect, the +pretence without the reality of sentiment. "Hapless H.L.P."--to have +lived to eighty years, and to close the record of so long a life with +such words! + +A little more than a year after this "Abridgment" was written, in May, +1821, Mrs. Piozzi died. Her children, from whom she had lived separated, +were around her death-bed.[C] + +[Footnote C: It is but four years ago that the Viscountess Keith, Mrs. +Piozzi's eldest daughter, died. She was ninety-five years old. Her long +life connected our generation with that of Johnson and Burke. She was +the last survivor of the Streatham "set,"--for, as "Queeney," she had +held a not unimportant place in it. She was at Johnson's death-bed. At +their last interview he said,--"My dear child, we part forever in this +world; let us part as Christian friends should; let us pray together." + +It was in 1808 that Miss Thrale married Lord Keith, a distinguished +naval officer. + +In _The Gentleman's Magazine_, for May, 1657, is an interesting notice +of Lady Keith. "During many years," it is there said, "Viscountess Keith +held a distinguished position in the highest circles of the fashionable +world in London; but during the latter portion of her life.... her time +was almost entirely devoted to works of charity and to the performance +of religious duties. No one ever did more for the good of others, and +few ever did so much in so unostentatious a manner."] + +In judging her, it is to be borne in mind that the earlier and the later +portions of her life are widely different from each other. As we have +before said, Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. Piozzi are two distinct persons. Mrs. +Thrale, whom the world smiled upon, whom the wits liked and society +courted, who had the best men in England for her friends, is a woman who +will always be pleasant in memory. Her unaffected grace, her kindliness, +her good-humor, her talents, make her perpetually charming. She was +helped by her surroundings to be good, pleasant, and clever; and she +will always keep her place as one of the most attractive figures in the +circle which was formed by Johnson, and Burke, and Reynolds, and Fanny +Burney, and others scarcely less conspicuous. But Mrs. Piozzi, whom the +world frowned upon, whom the wits jeered at, and society neglected, +whose friends nobody now knows, will be best remembered and best liked +as having once been Mrs. Thrale. There is no great charge against her; +she was more sinned against than sinning; she was only weak and foolish, +only degenerated from her first excellence. And even in her old age some +traits of her youthful charms remain, and, seeing these, we regard +her with a tender compassion, and remember of her only the bright +helpfulness and freshness of her younger days, when Johnson "loved her, +esteemed her, reverenced her, and thought her the first of womankind." + + * * * * * + + +THE NIGER, AND ITS EXPLORERS. + + +A century ago, the interior of Africa was a sealed book to the civilized +world. Candace, Queen of the Ethiopians, had been noticed in Holy Writ; +the Nile with Thebes and Memphis on its banks, and a ship-canal to +the Red Sea with triremes on its surface, had not escaped the eye of +Herodotus: but the countries which gave birth to Queen and River were +alike unknown. The sunny fountains, the golden sands, the palmy plains +of Africa were to be traced in the verses of the poet; but he dealt +neither in latitude nor longitude. The maps presented a _terra +incognita_, or sterile mountains, where modern travellers have found +rivers, lakes, and alluvial basins,--or exhibited barren wastes, where +recent discoveries find rich meadows annually flowed, studded with +walled towns and cities, enlivened by herds of cattle, or cultivated in +plantations of maize and cotton. + +Although the northern coast of Africa had once been the granary of +Carthage and Rome, cultivation had receded, and the corn-ship of +antiquity had given place to the felucca of the corsair, preying upon +the commerce of Europe. A few caravans, laden with a little ivory and +gold-dust or a few packages of drugs and spices, crept across the +Desert, and the slave-trade principally, if not alone, drew to Africa +the attention of civilized nations. Egypt, Tripoli and Tunis, Turkey and +the Spanish Provinces, the West India Isles and the Southern States, +knew it as the mart where human beings were bought and sold; and +Christians were reconciled to the traffic by the hope that it might +contribute to the moral, if not physical, welfare of the captive, by his +removal to a more civilized region. + +During the last three centuries, millions of Africans have perished +either on their way to slavery or in exhausting toil under a tropical +sun; and the flag of England has been the most prominent in this +demoralizing traffic. But it is due to England to say, that, since she +withdrew from it, she has aimed to atone for the past by a noble +and persevering devotion to the improvement of Africa. By repeated +expeditions, by missions, treaties, colonies, and incentives to +commerce, she has spread her light over the interior, and is now +recognized both by the tribes of the Desert and by civilized nations as +the great protector of Africa, and both geography and commerce owe to +her most of their advances on the African continent. + +So little was known of Africa, that, when Mungo Park made his report, in +1798, of the discovery of the Niger, and described large cities on its +banks, and vessels of fifty tons burden navigating its waters, the world +was incredulous; and his subsequent fate threw a cloud over the subject +which was not entirely dispelled until his course was traced and his +statements verified by modern travellers. + +The route of Dr. Park was from the west coast, near Sierra Leone, to the +upper branches of the Niger. On his second expedition he took with him +a detachment of British soldiers, and a number of civilians, fresh from +England, none of whom survived him. It appears from his journal that his +men followed the foot-paths of the natives, slept in the open air, were +exposed to the dews at night, and were overtaken by the rainy season +before they embarked upon the Niger. Unacclimated, with no proper means +of conveyance, no suitable clothing, and no precautions against +the fever of the country, they nearly all became victims to their +indiscretions. Park, however, at length launched his schooner on the +Niger, passed the city of Timbuctoo, and, with two or three Englishmen, +followed the river more than a thousand miles to Boussa. Reaching the +rapids at this point in a low stage of the water, he was so indiscreet +as to fire on the natives, and was drowned in his attempt to escape from +them; but his fate remained in uncertainty for eighteen years. + +The long struggle with Napoleon, the fearful loss of life which attended +the journey of Park, and the doubts as to his fate, checked for many +years the exploration of Africa. In 1821, a third attempt to explore +the Niger was made by a Major Laing, who failed in his efforts to reach +Timbuctoo, and fell a victim to Mahometan intolerance. + +In 1822, a new effort was made by England to reach the interior, and +Messrs. Denham and Clapperton joined the caravan from Tripoli, and +crossed the Desert to the Soudan. They explored the country to the ninth +degree of north latitude, found large Negro and Mahometan states in the +interior, and visited Saccatoo, Kano, Murfeia, Tangalra, and other large +towns, some of which contained twenty or thirty thousand people. + +In their journal we find a vivid sketch of a Negro army marching from +Bornou to the South, with horsemen in coats-of-mail, as in the days of +chivalry, and armed, as in those days, with lances and bows and arrows. +A glowing description is given of the ravages that attended their march. +When they entered an enemy's country, desolation marked their path, +houses and corn-fields were destroyed, all the full-grown males were put +to death, and the women and children reduced to servitude. + +It was obvious that an incessant struggle was in progress between the +Mahometan and Negro states, and that the Mahometan faith and Arab blood +were slowly gaining an ascendency over the Negro even down to the +equator. The conquering tribes, by intermarriage with the females, +were gradually changing the race, and introducing greater energy and +intelligence; and the mixed races have exhibited great proficiency in +various branches of manufacture. The invaders took with them large herds +of cattle, and pursued a pastoral life, leaving the culture of the land +principally to the Negro. + +In 1825 Clapperton made his second expedition to the interior, +accompanied by Richard Lander. In this journey the adventurous +travellers landed at Badagry, and crossed through Yarriba to the Niger. +On their way they spent several days at Katunga, the capital of Yarriba, +a city so extensive that one of its streets is described as five miles +in length. The town of Koofo, with twenty thousand inhabitants, as also +large cotton-plantations, are mentioned by these travellers; and some +idea of the territory they explored may be formed from the following +extract from their narrative:-- + +"The further we penetrate into the country, the more dense we find the +population to be, and civilization becomes at every step more strikingly +apparent. Large towns, at a distance of only a few miles from each +other, we were informed, lay on all sides of us, the inhabitants of +which pay the greatest respect to the laws, and live under a regular +form of government." + +It is to this fertile, populous, and peaceful region of the interior +that the most successful efforts of the English missionaries have been +of late directed. + +In this expedition, Captain Clapperton died of the fever of the country. +His faithful servant, Lander, after publishing his journal, returned to +Africa, in 1830, with his brother, landed at Badagry, and again crossed +the country to the Niger. + +At Boussa, they obtained the first authentic information of the death of +Park, and recovered his gun, robe, and other relics. Here, embarking in +canoes, they ascended the river through its rapids to Yaouri, and +thence traced it to the sea in the Bight of Benin. On their way, they +discovered the Benue, which joins the Niger two hundred and seventy +miles from the ocean, with a volume of water and a width nearly equal to +its own. They encountered a large number of canoes, nearly fifty feet +in length, armed in some cases with a brass six-pounder at the bow, and +each manned by sixty or seventy men actively engaged in the slave-trade. +Forty of these canoes were found together at Eboe, near the mouth of the +Niger. + +During the interval between the two expeditions of Lander to trace the +course of this mysterious river, France was exploring its upper waters. + +In 1827, René Caillié, a Frenchman, adopting the disguise of a +Mahometan, left the western coast at Kakundy, a few miles north of +Sierra Leone, and crossed the intervening highlands to the affluents of +the Niger, which he struck within two hundred and fifty miles of the +coast. + +He first came to the Tankesso, a rapid stream flowing into the Niger +just below its cascades, and noticed here a mountain of pale pink quartz +in regular strata of eighteen inches in thickness, a few miles below +which the river flows in a wide and tranquil stream through extensive +plains, which it fertilizes by its inundations. One hundred miles below, +at Boure, were rich gold mines within twenty miles of the Niger. In the +dry season, he found its waters very cold and waist-deep. + +Caillié travelled by narrow paths impervious to horses or carriages, and +with a party of natives bearing merchandise on their heads. His route +was through a country gradually ascending and occasionally mountainous, +but fertile in the utmost degree, and watered by numerous streams and +rivulets which kept the verdure constantly fresh, with delightful plains +that required only the labor of the husbandman to produce everything +necessary for human life. + +Proceeding westward, he reached the main Niger, which he found, at +the close of the dry season, and before it had received its principal +tributaries, nine feet deep and nine hundred feet in width, with a +velocity of two and a half miles an hour. + +To this point, where the river becomes navigable for steamers, a common +road or railway of three hundred miles in length might be easily +constructed from Sierra Leone; and it is a little surprising that Great +Britain, with her solicitude to reach the interior, should not have been +tempted by the fertility, gold mines, and navigable waters in the rear +of Sierra Leone, so well pictured by Caillié, to open at least a common +highway to the Niger, an enterprise which might be effected for fifty +thousand pounds. Although this may be so easily accomplished, the +principal route to the interior of Africa is still the caravan track +from Tripoli through the Desert, requiring three months by a hazardous +and most fatiguing journey of fifteen hundred miles. The first movement +for a road to the interior has been recently made in Yarriba, by T.J. +Bowen, the American Baptist missionary, who pronounces it to be the +prerequisite to civilization and Christianity. + +Caillié readied the Niger in May, just as the rainy reason commenced, +but, finding no facilities for descending the stream, he proceeded to +the southwest, crossed many of its affluents, traversed a rich country, +and, having exposed himself to the fever and met with many detentions, +finally embarked in the succeeding March at Djenne, in a vessel of +seventy tons burden, for Timbuctoo. He describes this vessel as one +hundred feet in length, fourteen feet broad, and drawing seven feet +of water. It was laden with rice, millet, and cotton, and manned by +twenty-one men, who propelled the frail bark by poles and paddles. With +a flotilla of sixty of these vessels he descended the Niger several +hundred miles to Timbuctoo. He speaks of the river as varying from half +to three-fourths of a mile in width, annually overflowing its banks and +irrigating a large basin generally destitute of trees. After paying toll +to the Tasaareks, a Moorish tribe, on the way, and losing one of the +flotilla, he landed safely at Timbuctoo, and probably was the first +European who visited that remote city, although Adams, an American +sailor wrecked on the coast, claims to have been carried there before as +a captive. + +From the narratives of Park, Clapperton, Lander, and Caillié, confirmed +by Bairkie and Barth, the latter of whom explored the banks of the Niger +from Timbuctoo to Boussa, it has been ascertained to be a noble stream, +navigable for nearly twenty-five hundred miles, with an average width +of more than half a mile, and an average depth of three fathoms, +--comparing favorably with our own Mississippi. There appears to be but +one portion of the stream difficult for navigation, and that is the +portion from Yaouri to Lagaba, a distance of eighty miles. In this space +are several reefs and ledges, mostly bare at low water, and the river is +narrowed in width by mountains on either side; but in the wet season it +overflows its banks at this point, and is then navigated by the larger +class of canoes. There can be little doubt that it is susceptible of +navigation above and below by the largest class of river steamers, and +that the rapids themselves may in the higher stages of water be ascended +by the American high-pressure steamers which navigate our Western +rivers, drawing, as they do in low stages of the Ohio and Missouri, but +sixteen to eighteen inches. + +As soon as it was ascertained that the Niger reached the ocean in the +Bight of Benin, and that its upper waters had been navigated by Caillié +and Park, a private association, aided by the British government, fitted +out a brig and several steamers, with a large party of scientific men, +who, in 1833, entered the Niger from the sea. + +Great Britain, though enterprising and persevering, is slow in adapting +means to ends, and made a series of mistakes in her successive +expeditions, which might have been avoided, if she would have +condescended to profit by the experience of her children on this side of +the Atlantic. + +The expedition of 1833 was deficient in many things. The power and speed +of the steamers were insufficient, their draught of water too great, and +they were so long delayed in their outfit and in their sea-voyage that +they found the river falling, and were detained by shoals and sand-bars. +The accommodations were unsuitable; and the men, exposed to a bad +atmosphere among the mangroves at the mouth of the river, and confined +in the holds of the vessels, were attacked by fever, and but ten of them +survived. The expedition, however, succeeded in reaching Rabba, on the +Niger, five hundred miles from the sea, ascended the Benue, eighty miles +above the confluence, and charts were made and soundings taken for the +distance explored. + +In 1842 the British government made a new effort to explore the Niger, +and built for that purpose three iron steamers, the Wilberforce, Albert, +and Soudan, vessels of one hundred to one hundred and thirty-nine feet +in length. The error committed in the first expedition, of too great +draught, was avoided; but the steamers had so little power and keel that +their voyage to the Niger was both tedious and hazardous, and their +speed was found insufficient to make more than three knots per hour +against the current of the river. Arriving on the coast late in the +season, they were unable to ascend above the points already explored, +and the officers and men, suffering from the tedious navigation, close +cabins, and effluvia from the falling river, lost one-fourth of their +number by fever, while the African Kroomen, accustomed to the climate +and sleeping on the open deck, enjoyed perfect health. It was the +intention of government to establish a model farm and mission at the +confluence of the Niger and Benue; but the officers, discouraged by +sickness, abandoned their original purpose, and the expedition proved +another failure, involving a loss of at least sixty thousand pounds. + +After the lapse of twelve years, it was ascertained that private +steamers and sailing vessels were resorting to the Niger, and that an +active trade was springing up in palm-oil, the trees producing which +fringe the banks of the river for some hundreds of miles from the sea; +and in 1853, a Liverpool merchant, McGregor Laird, who had accompanied +the former expedition, fitted out, with the aid of government, the +Pleiad steamer for a voyage up the Niger. + +One would imagine that by this time the British government would have +corrected their former errors; and a part were corrected. The speed of +this steamer surpassed that of her predecessors, and her draught did not +exceed five feet. She was well provided with officers, and a crew of +native Kroomen from the coast; and she was supplied with ample stores +of quinine. But, singular as it may appear, this steamer, destined, to +ascend the great rivers up which the former expedition found a strong +breeze flowing daily, was not furnished with a _sail_; and although the +banks of the Niger were lined with forest-trees, and the supply of coal +was sufficient for a few days only, not a single _axe_ or _saw_ was +provided for cutting wood, and the Kroomen hired from the coast were +compelled to trim off with shingle-hatchets nearly all the fuel used +in ascending the river,--and in descending, the steamer was obliged to +drift down with the current. Moreover, she was but one hundred feet +in length, with an engine and boiler occupying thirty feet of her +bold,--thus leaving but thirty-five feet at each end for officers, men, +and stores. Neither state-room, cabin, nor awning was provided on deck +to shelter the crew from an African sun. + +With all these deficiencies, however, they achieved a partial triumph. +Entering the river in July, they ascended the southern branch, now +known as the Benue, for a distance of seven hundred miles from the sea, +reaching Adamawa, a Mahometan state of the Soudan. On the fifteenth of +August they encountered the rise of waters, and found the Benue nearly a +mile in width and from one to three fathoms in depth. They observed it +overflowing its banks for miles and irrigatin extensive and fertile +plains to the depth of several feet, and saw reason to believe that this +river, which flows westerly from the interior, may be navigated at least +one thousand miles from the sea. As Dr. Barth visited it at a city +several hundred miles above the point reached by the Pleiad, and found +it flowing with a wide and deep current, it may be regarded as the +gateway into the interior of Africa. + +One of our light Western steamers, manned by our Western boatmen and +axemen, with its three decks, lofty staterooms, superior speed, +and light draught, would have been most admirably fitted for this +exploration. + +But the expedition, with all its deficiencies, achieved a further +triumph. Dr. Bairkie, by using quinine freely, and by removing the beds +of the officers from the stifling cabins to the deck, escaped the loss +of a single man, although four months on the river,--thus demonstrating +that the white man can reach the interior of Africa in safety, a problem +quite as important to be solved as the course and capacity of the Niger +and its branches. + +Thus have been opened to navigation the waters of the Mysterious River. + +When the Landers first floated down the stream in their canoe, thirty +years since, they found vast forests and little cultivation, and the +natives seemed to have no commerce except in slaves and yams for their +support. But an officer who accompanied the several steam expeditions +was astonished in his last visit to see the change which a few years +had produced. New and populous towns had sprung up, extensive groves +of palm-trees and gardens lined the banks, and vessels laden with oil, +yams, ground-nuts, and ivory indicated the progress of legitimate +commerce. + +The narrative of Dr. Bairkie, a distinguished German scholar, who has +written an account of the voyage of the Pleiad, will be found both +interesting and instructive; and we may some day expect another volume, +for he has returned to the scene of his adventures. + +Another German in the service of Great Britain has given us a vivid +picture of Central Africa north of the equator. Dr. Henry Barth has +recently published, in four octavo volumes, a narrative of his travels +in Africa for five years preceding 1857. During this period, he +accompanied the Sheik of Bornou, one of the chief Negro states of +Africa, on his march as far south as the Benue, explored the borders of +Lake Tsadda, crossed the Niger at Sai, and visited the far-famed city +of Timbuctoo. Here he incurred some danger from the fanaticism of +the Moslems; but his command of Arabic, his tact and adroitness in +distinguishing the Protestant worship of the Deity from the homage +paid by Roman Catholics to images of the Virgin and Saints, and in +illustrating the points in which his Protestant faith agreed with the +Koran, extricated him from his embarrassment. + +Dr. Barth found various Negro cities with a population ranging from +fifteen to twenty thousand, and observed large fields of rice, cotton, +tobacco, and millet. On his way to Timbuctoo, he saw a field of this +last-named grain in which the stalks stood twenty-four feet high. Our +Patent Office should secure some of the seed which he has doubtless +conveyed to Europe. The following prices, which he names, give us an +idea of the cheapness of products in Central Africa:--An ox two dollars, +a sheep fifty cents, tobacco one to two cents per pound. + +From the sketch we have given of the Niger and its branches, and of the +countries bordering upon them, it would appear to be the proper policy +of Great Britain and other commercial nations to open a way from Sierra +Leone to the Niger, and to establish a colony near the confluence of +this river with the Benue. From this point, which is easily accessible +from the sea and the ports of the British colonies on the western coast +of Africa, light steamers may probably ascend to Sego and Djenne, +encountering no difficulties except at the rapids near Boussa, and may +penetrate into the heart of the Soudan. In this region are mines of +lead, copper, gold, and iron, a rich soil, adapted to cotton, rice, +indigo, sugar, coffee, and vegetable butter, with very cheap labor. With +steamers controlling the rivers, a check could here be given to the +slave-trade, and to the conflicts between the Moors and Negroes, and +Christianity have a fair prospect of diffusion. Such a colony is +strongly recommended by Lieutenant Allen, who accompanied the +expeditions of 1833 and 1842; and there can be no doubt that it would +attract the caravans from the remote interior, and put an end to the +perilous and tedious expeditions across the Desert. + + + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_Benvenuto Rambaldi da Imola Illustrato nella Vita e nelle Opere, e di +lui Comento Latino sulla Divina Commedia di Dante Allghieri voltalo in +Italiano dall' Avvocato_ GIOVANNI TAMBURINI. Imola. 1855-56. 3 vol. +in 8vo. [The Commentary of Benvenuto Rambaldi of Imola on the _Divina +Commedia_, translated from Latin into Italian, by Giovanni Tamburini.] + +Almost five centuries have passed since Benvenuto of Imola, one of +the most distinguished men of letters of his time, was called by the +University of Bologna to read a course of lectures upon the "Divina +Commedia" before the students at that famous seat of learning. From +that time till the present, a great part of his "Comment" has lain in +manuscript, sharing the fate of the other earliest commentaries on the +poem of Dante, not one of which, save that of Boccaccio, was given to +the press till within a few years. This neglect is the more strange, +since it was from the writers of the fourteenth century, almost +contemporary as they were with Dante, that the most important +illustrations both of the letter and of the sense of the "Divina +Commedia" were naturally to be looked for. When they wrote, the lapse of +time had not greatly obscured the memory of the events which the poet +had recorded, or to which he had referred. The studies with which he had +been familiar, the external sources from which he had drawn inspiration, +had undergone no essential change in direction or in nature. The same +traditions and beliefs possessed the intellects of men. Similar social +and political influences moulded their characters. The distance that +separated Dante from his first commentators was mainly due to the +surpassing nature of his genius, which, in some sort, made him, and +still makes him, a stranger to all men, and very little to changes like +those which have slowly come about in the passage of centuries, and +which divide his modern readers from the poet. + +It was the intention of Benvenuto, as he tells us, "to elucidate what +was dark in the poem being veiled under figures, and to explain what +was involved in its multiplex meanings." But his Comment is more +illustrative than analytic, more literal than imaginative, and its chief +value lies in the abundance of current legends which it contains, and +in the number of stories related in it, which exhibit the manners or +illustrate the history of the times. So great, indeed, is the value +of this portion of his work, that Muratori, to whom a large debt of +gratitude is due from all students of Italian history, published in +1738, in the first volume of his "Antiquitates Italicae Medii Aevi," a +selection of such passages, amounting altogether to about one half of +the whole Comment. However satisfactory this incomplete publication +might be to the mere historical investigator, the students of the +"Divina Commedia" could not but regret that the complete work had not +been printed,--and they accordingly welcomed with satisfaction the +announcement, a few years since, of the volumes whose title stands at +the head of this article, which professed to contain a translation of +the whole Comment. It seemed a pity, indeed, that it should have been +thought worth while to translate a book addressing itself to a very +limited number of readers, most of whom were quite as likely to +understand the original Latin as the modern Italian, while also a +special value attached to the style and form in which it was first +written. But no one could have suspected what "translation" meant in the +estimation of the Signor Tamburini, whose name appears on the title-page +as that of the translator. + +_Traduttore--traditore_, "Translator--traitor," says the proverb; and of +all traitors shielded under the less offensive name, Signor Tamburini +is beyond comparison the worst we have ever had the misfortune to +encounter. A place is reserved for him in that lowest depth in which, +according to Dante's system, traitors are punished. + +It appears from his preface that Signor Tamburini is not without +distinction in the city of Imola. He has been President of the Literary +Academy named that of "The Industrious." To have been President of all +Academy in the Roman States implies that the person bearing this honor +was either an ecclesiastic or a favorite of ecclesiastics. Hitherto, +no one could hold such an office without having his election to it +confirmed by a central board of ecclesiastical inspectors (_la Sacra +Congregazione degli Studj_) at Rome. The reason for noticing this fact +in connection with Signor Tamburini will soon become apparent. + +In his preface, Signor Tamburini declares that in the first division of +the poem he has kept his translation close to the original, while in +the two later divisions he had been _meno legato_, "less exact," in his +rendering. This acknowledgment, however unsatisfactory to the reader, +presented at least an appearance of fairness. But, from a comparison of +Signor Tamburini's work with the portions of the original preserved by +Muratori, we have satisfied ourselves that his honesty is on a level +with his capacity as a translator, and what his capacity is we propose +to enable our readers to judge for themselves. For our own part, we have +been unable to distinguish any important difference in the methods of +translation followed in the three parts of the Comment. + +So far as we are aware, this book has not met with its dues in Europe. +The well-known Dantophilist, Professor Blanc of Halle, speaks of it in a +note to a recent essay (_Versuch einer blos philogischen Erklärung der +Göttlichen Komödie_, von Dr. L.G. Blanc, Halle, 1860, p. 5) as "a +miserably unsatisfactory translation," but does not give the grounds of +his assertion. We intend to show that a grosser literary imposition has +seldom been attempted than in these volumes. It is an outrage on the +memory of Dante not less than on that of Benvenuto. The book is worse +than worthless to students; for it is not only full of mistakes of +carelessness, stupidity, and ignorance, but also of wilful perversions +of the meaning of the original by additions, alterations, and omissions. +The three large volumes contain few pages which do not afford examples +of mutilation or misrepresentation of Benvenuto's words. We will begin +our exhibition of the qualities of the Procrustean mistranslator with +an instance of his almost incredible carelessness, which is, however, +excusable in comparison with his more wilful faults. Opening the first +volume at page 397, we find the following sentence,--which we put side +by side with the original as given by Muratori. The passage relates to +the 33d and succeeding verses of Canto XVI. + +TAMBURINI + +Qui Dante fa menzione di Guido Guerra, e meravigliano molti della +modestia dell' autore, che da costui e dalla di lui moglie tragga +l'origine sua, mentre poteva derivarla care di gratitudine affettuosa a +quella,--Gualdrada,--stipito suo,--dandole nome e tramandandola quasi +all' eternità, mentre per sè stessa sarebbe forse rimasta sconosciuta. + +BENVENUTO. + +Et primo incepit a digniori, scilicet a Guidone Guerra; et circa istius +descriptionem lectori est aliqualiter immorandum, quia multi mirantur, +immo truffantur ignoranter, quod Dantes, qui poterat describere istum +praeclarum virum a claris progenitoribus et ejus claris gestis, +describit eum ab una femina, avita sua, Domna Gualdrada. Sed certe +Auctor fecit talem descriptionem tam laudabiliter quam prudenter, ut +heic implicite tangeret originem famosae stirpis istius, et ut daret +meritam famam et laudem huic mulieri dignissimae. + +A literal translation will afford the most telling comment on the nature +of the Italian version. + +TRANSLATION. + +Here Dante makes mention of Guido Guerras, and many marvel at the +modesty of the Author, in deriving his own origin from him and from his +wife, when he might have derived it from a more noble source. But I find +in such modesty the greater merit, in that he did not wish to fail in +affectionate gratitude toward her,--Gualdrada,--his ancestress,--giving +her name and handing her down as it were to eternity, while she by +herself would perhaps have remained unknown. + +TRANSLATION. + +In the first place he began with the worthiest, namely, Guido Guerra; +and in regard to the description of this man it is to be dwelt upon a +little by the reader, because scoff at Dante, because, when he might +have described this very distinguished man by his distinguished +ancestors and his distinguished deeds, he does describe him by a woman, +his grandmother, the Lady Gualdrada. But certainly the author did this +not less praiseworthily than wisely, that he might here, by implication, +touch upon the origin of that famous family, and might give a merited +fame and praise to this most worthy woman. + +It will be noticed that Signor Tamburini makes Dante derive _his own_ +origin from Gualdrada,--a mistake from which the least attention to the +original text, or the slightest acquaintance with the biography of the +poet, would have saved him. + +Another amusing instance of stupidity occurs in the comment on the 135th +verse of Canto XXVIII., where, speaking of the young king, son of Henry +II. of England, Benvenuto says, "Note here that this youth was like +another Titus the son of Vespasian, who, according to Suetonius, was +called the love and delight of the human race." This simple sentence is +rendered in the following astounding manner: "John [the young king] was, +according to Suetonius, another Titus Vespasian, the love and joy of the +human race"! + +Again, in giving the account of Guido da Montefeltro, (_Inferno_, Canto +XXVII.,) Benvenuto says on the lines, + + --e poi fui Cordeliero, + Credendomi si cinto fare ammenda, + +"And then I became a Cordelier, believing thus girt to make +amends,"--"That is, hoping under such a dress of misery and poverty +to make amends for my sins; but others did not believe in him [in his +repentance]. Wherefore Dominus Malatesta, having learned from one of +his household that Dominus Guido had become a Minorite Friar, took +precautions that he should not be made the guardian of Rimini." This +last sentence is rendered by our translator,--"One of the household +of Malatesta related to me (!) that Ser Guido adopted the dress of a +Minorite Friar, and sought by every means not to be appointed guardian +of Rimini." A little farther on the old commentator says,--"He died and +was buried in Ancona, and I have heard many things about him which may +afford a sufficient hope of his salvation"; but he is made to say by +Signor Tamburini,--"After his death and burial in Ancona many works of +power were ascribed to him, and I have a sweet hope that he is saved." + +We pass over many instances of similar misunderstanding of Benvenuto's +easily intelligible though inelegant Latin, to a blunder which would be +extraordinary in any other book, by which our translator has ruined a +most characteristic story in the comment on the 112th verse of Canto +XIV. of the "Purgatory." We must give here the two texts. + +BENVENUTO + +Et heic nota, ut videas, si magna nobilitas vigebat paulo ante in +Bretenorio, quod tempore istius Guidonis, quando aliquis vir nobilis +et honorabilis applicabat ad terram, magna contentio erat inter multos +nobiles de Bretenorio, in cujus domum ille talis forensis deberet +declinare. Propter quod concorditer convenerunt inter se, quod columna +lapidea figeretur in medio plateae cum multis annulis ferreis, et omnis +superveniens esset hospes illius ad cujus annulum alligaret equum. + +TRANSLATION. + +And here take notice, that you may see if great nobility flourished a +little before this time in Brettinoro, that, in the days of this Guido, +when any noble and honorable man came to the place, there was a great +rivalry among the many nobles of Brettinoro, as to which of them should +receive the stranger in his house. Wherefore they harmoniously agreed +that a column of stone should be set up in the middle of the square, +furnished with many iron rings, and any one who arrived should be the +guest of him to whose ring he might tie his horse. + + +TAMBURINI. + +Al tempo di Guido in Brettinoro anche i nobili aravano le terre; ma +insorsero discordie fra essi, e sparve la innocenza di vita, e con essa +la liberalità. I brettinoresi determinarono di alzare in piazza una +colonna con intorno tanti anelli di ferro, quanto le nobili famiglie di +quel castello, e chi fosse arrivato ed avesse legato il cavallo ad uno +de' predetti anelli, doveva esser ospite della famiglia, che indicava l' +anello cui il cavallo era attaccato. + +TRANSLATION. + +In the time of Guido in Brettinoro even the nobles ploughed the land; +but discords arose among them, and innocence of life disappeared, and +with it liberality. The people of Brettinoro determined to erect in the +pub lic square a column with as many iron rings upon it as there were +noble families in that stronghold, and he who should arrive and tie his +horse to one of those rings was to be the guest of the family pointed +out by the ring to which the horse was attached. + +Surely, Signor Tamburini has fixed the dunce's cap on his own head so +that it can never he taken off. The commonest Latin phrases, which the +dullest schoolboy could not mistranslate, he misunderstands, turning +the pleasant sense of the worthy commentator into the most +self-contradictory nonsense. + +"Ad confirmandum propositum," says Benvenuto, "oceurrit mihi res +jocosa,"[A]--"In confirmation of this statement, a laughable matter +occurs to me"; and he goes on to relate a story about the famous +astrologer Pietro di Abano. But our translator is not content without +making him stultify himself, and renders the words we have quoted, "A +maggiore conferma referiro un fatto a me accaduto"; that is, he makes +Benvenuto say, "I will report an incident that happened to me," and then +go on to tell the story of Pietro di Abano, which had no more to do with +him than with Signor Tamburini himself. + +[Footnote A: Comment on Purg. xvi. 80.] + +We might fill page after page with examples such as these of the +distortions and corruptions of Benvenuto's meaning which we have noted +on the margin of this so-called translation. But we have given more than +enough to prove the charge of incompetence against the President of +the "Academy of the Industrious," and we pass on to exhibit him now no +longer as simply an ignoramus, but as a mean and treacherous rogue. + +Among the excellent qualities of Benvenuto there are few more marked +than his freedom in speaking his opinion of rulers and ecclesiastics, +and in holding up their vices to reproach, while at the same time he +shows a due spirit of respect for proper civil and ecclesiastical +authority. In this he imitates the temper of the poet upon whose work he +comments,--and in so doing he has left many most valuable records of +the character and manners especially of the clergy of those days--He +loved a good story, and he did not hesitate to tell it even when it went +hard against the priests. He knew and he would not hide the corruptions +of the Church, and he was not the man to spare the vices which were +sapping the foundations not so much of the Church as of religion itself. +But his translator is of a different order of men, one of the devout +votaries of falsehood and concealment; and he has done his best to +remove some of the most characteristic touches of Benvenuto's work, +regarding them as unfavorable to the Church, which even now in the +nineteenth century cannot well bear to have exposed the sins committed +by its rulers and its clergy in the thirteenth or fourteenth. Signor +Tamburini has sought the favor of ecclesiastics, and gained the contempt +of such honest men as have the ill-luck to meet with his book. Wherever +Benvenuto uses a phrase or tells an anecdote which can be regarded as +bearing in any way against the Church, we may be sure to find it either +omitted or softened down in this Papalistic version. We give a few +specimens. + +In the comment on Canto III. of the "Inferno," Benvenuto says, speaking +of Dante's great enemy, Boniface VIII.,--"Auctor ssepissime dicit +de ipso Bonifacio magna mala, qui de rei veritate fuit magnanimus +peccator": "Our author very often speaks exceedingly ill of Boniface, +who was in very truth a grand sinner." This sentence is omitted in the +translation. + +Again, on the well-known verse, (_Inferno,_ xix. 53,) "Se' tu già costì +ritto, Bonifazio?" Benvenuto commenting says,--"Auctor quando ista +scripsit, viderat pravam vitam Bonifacii, ct ejus mortem rabidam. +Ideo bene judicavit eum damnatum.... Heic dictus Nicolaus improperat +Bonifacio duo mala. Primo, quia Sponsam Christ! fraudulenter assumpsit +de manu simplicis Pastoris. Secundo, quia etiam earn more meretricis +tractavit, simoniacc vendcndo eam, et tyrannice tractando": "The author, +when he wrote these things, had witnessed the evil life of Boniface, and +his raving death. Therefore he well judged him to be damned.... And +here the aforementioned Pope Nicholas charges two crimes upon Boniface: +first, that he had taken the Bride of Christ by deceit from the hand of +a simple-minded Pastor; second, that he had treated her as a harlot, +simoniacally selling her, and tyrannically dealing with her." + +These two sentences are omitted by the translator; and the long further +account which Benvenuto gives of the election and rule of Boniface is +throughout modified by him in favor of this "_magnanimus peccator_." And +so also the vigorous narrative of the old commentator concerning Pope +Nicholas III. is deprived of its most telling points: "Nam fuit primus +in cujus curia palam committeretur Simonia per suos attinentes. +Quapropter multum ditavit eos possessionibus, pecuniis et castellis, +super onmes Romanos": "For he was the first at whose court Simony was +openly committed in favor of his adherents. Whereby he greatly enriched +them with possessions, money, and strongholds, above all the Romans." +"Sed quod Clerici capiunt raro dimittunt": "What the clergy have once +laid hands on, they rarely give up." Nothing of this is found in +the Italian,--and history fails of her dues at the hands of this +tender-conscienced modernizer of Benvenuto. The comment on the whole +canto is in this matter utterly vitiated. + +In the comment on Canto XXIX. of the "Inferno," which is full of +historic and biographic material of great interest, but throughout +defaced by the license of the translator, occurs a passage in regard +to the Romagna, which is curious not only as exhibiting the former +condition of that beautiful and long-suffering portion of Italy, but +also as applying to its recent state and its modern grievances. + +BENVENUTO. + +Judicio meo mihi videtur quod quatuor deduxerunt eam nobilem provinciam +ad tantam desolationem. Primum est avaritia Pastorum Ecclesiae, qui nunc +vendunt unam terram, nunc aliam; et nunc unus favet uni Tyranno, nunc +alius alteri, secundum quod saepe mutantur officiales. Secundum est +pravitas Tyrannorum suorum, qui semper inter se se lacerant et rodunt, +et subditos excoriant. Tertium est fertilitas locorum ipsius provinciae, +cujus pinguedo allicit barbaros et externos in praedam. Quartum est +invidia, quae viget in cordibus ipsorum incolarum. + +TAMBURINI. + +Per me ritengo, che quattro fossero le cagioni per cui la Romagna +si ridusse a tanta desolazione: l' abuso per avarizia di alcuni +ecclesiastici, che alienarono or una, or un' altra terra, e si misero +d' accordo coi tiranni,--i tiranni stessi che sempre erano discordi fra +loro a danno de' sudditi,--la fertilità de' terreni, che troppo alletta +gli strani, ed i barbari,--l' invidia, che regna fra gli stessi roma +gnuoli. + + +"In my judgment," says Benvenuto, who speaks with the authority of long +experience and personal observation, "it seems to me that four things +have brought that noble province to so great desolation. The first of +which is, the avarice of the Pastors of the Church, who now sell one +tract of its land, and now another; while one favors one Tyrant, and +another another, so that the men in authority are often changed. The +second is, the wickedness of the Tyrants themselves, who are always +tearing and biting each other, and fleecing their subjects. The third +is, the fertility of the province itself, which by its very richness +allures barbarians and foreigners to prey upon it. The fourth is, that +spirit of jealousy which flourishes in the hearts of the inhabitants +themselves." It will be noticed that the translator changes the phrase, +"the avarice of the Pastors of the Church," into "the avarice of some +ecclesiastics," while throughout the passage, as indeed throughout every +page of the work, the vigor of Benvenuto's style and the point of +his animated sentences are quite lost in the flatness of a dull and +inaccurate paraphrase. + +A passage in which the spirit of the poet has fully roused his manly +commentator is the noble burst of indignant reproach with which +he inveighs against and mourns over Italy in Canto VI. of the +"Purgatory":-- + + Ahi serva Italia, di dolore ostello, + Nave senza nocchiero in gran tempesta, + Non donna di provincie, ma bordello. + +"Nota metaphoram pulcram: sicut enim in lupanari venditur caro humana +pretio sine pudore, ita meretrix magna, idest Curia Romana, et Curia +Imperialis, vendunt libertatem Italicam.... Ad Italiam concurrunt omnes +barbarae nationes cum aviditate ad ipsam conculcandam.... Et heic, +Lector, me excusabis, qui antequam ulterius procedam, cogor facere +invectivam contra Dantem. O utinam, Poeta mirifice, rivivisceres modo! +Ubi pax, ubi tranquillitas in Italia?... Nunc autem dicere possim de +tola Italia quod Vergilius tuus de una Urbe dixit: + + ----'Crudelis ubique + Lucutus, ubique pavor, et plurima mortis imago.' + +.... Quanto ergo excusabilius, si fas esset, possem exclamare ad +Omnipotentem quam tu, qui in tempora felicia incidisti, quibus nos omnes +nunc viventes in misera Italia possumus invidere? Ipse ergo, qui potest, +mittat amodo Veltrum, quem tu vidisti in Somno, si tamen umquam venturus +est." + +"Note the beauty of the metaphor: for, as in a brothel the human body is +sold for a price without shame, so the great harlot, the Court of Rome, +and the Imperial Court, sell the liberty of Italy.... All the barbarous +nations rush eagerly upon Italy to trample upon her.... And here, +Reader, thou shalt excuse me, if, before going farther, I am forced to +utter a complaint against Dante. Would that, O marvellous poet, thou +wert now living again! Where is peace, where is tranquillity in +Italy?... But I may say now of all Italy what thy Virgil said of a +single city,--'Cruel mourning everywhere, everywhere alarm, and the +multiplied image of death.' ...With how much more reason, then, were it +but right, might I call upon the Omnipotent, than thou who fellest upon +happy times, which we all now living in wretched Italy may envy! Let +Him, then, who can, speedily send the Hound that thou sawest in thy +dream, if indeed he is ever to come!" + +It would be surprising, but for what we have already seen of the manner +in which Signor Tamburini performs his work, to find that he has here +omitted all reference to the Church, omitted also the address to Dante, +and thus changed the character of the whole passage. + +Again, in the comment on Canto XX. of the "Purgatory," where Benvenuto +gives account of the outrage committed, at the instigation of Philippe +le Bel, by Sciarra Colonna, upon Pope Boniface VIII., at Anagni, the +translator omits the most characteristic portions of the original. + + * * * * * + +BENVENUTO. + +Sed intense dolore superante animum ejus, conversus in rabiem furoris, +coepit se rodere totum. Et sic verificata est prophetia simplicissimi +Coelestini, qui praedixerat sibi: Intrâsti ut Vulpes, Regnabis ut Leo, +Morieris ut Canis. + +TAMBURINI. + +L'angoscia per altro là vinse sul di lui animo, perchè fu preso da tal +dolore, che si mordeva e lacerava le membra, e cosi terminò sua vita. In +tal modo nel corso della vita di Bonifazio fu verificata la profezia di +Celestino. + + * * * * * + +"But his intense mortification overcoming the mind of the Pope, he fell +into a rage of madness, and began to bite himself all over his body. +And thus the prophecy of the simple-minded Celestine came true, who had +predicted to him. Thou hast entered [into the Papacy] like a Fox, thou +wilt reign like a Lion, thou wilt die like a Dog." + +It wilt be observed that the prophecy is referred to by the translator, +but that its stinging words are judiciously left out. + +The mass of omissions such as these is enormous. We go forward to the +comment on Canto XII. of the "Paradiso," which exhibits a multitude of +mutilations and alterations. For instance, in the comment on the lines +in which Dante speaks of St. Dominick as attacking heresies most eagerly +where they were most firmly established, (_dove le resistenze eran più +grosse_,) our translator represents Benvenuto as saying, "That is, most +eagerly in that place, namely, the district of Toulouse, where the +Albigenses had become strong in their heresy and in power." But +Benvenuto says nothing of the sort; his words are, "Idest, ubi erant +majores Haeretici, vel ratione scientiae, vel potentiae. Non enim fecit +sicut quidam moderni Inquisitores, qui non sunt audaces nec solertes, +nisi contra quosdam divites denariis, pauperes amicis, qui non possunt +facere magnam resistentiam, et extorquent ab eis pecunias, quibus postea +emunt Episcopatum." + +"That is, where were the greatest Heretics, either through their +knowledge or their power. For he did not do like some modern +Inquisitors, who are bold and skilful only against such as are rich in +money, but poor in friends, and who cannot make a great resistance, and +from these they squeeze out their money with which they afterwards buy +an Episcopate." + +Such is the way in which what is most illustrative of general history, +or of the personal character of the author himself, is constantly +destroyed by the processes of Signor Tamburini. From the very next page +a passage of real value, as a contemporary judgment upon the orders of +St. Dominick and St. Francis, has utterly disappeared under his hands. +"And here take notice, that our most far-sighted author, from what he +saw of these orders, conjectured what they would become. For, in very +truth, these two illustrious orders of Preachers and Minorites, formerly +the two brightest lights of the world, now have indeed undergone an +eclipse, and are in their decline, and are divided by quarrels and +domestic discords. And consequently it seems as if they were not to last +much longer. Therefore it was well answered by a monk of St. Benedict, +when he was reproached by a Franciscan friar for his wanton life,--When +Francis shall be as old as Benedict, then you may talk to me." + +But there is a still more remarkable instance of Signor Tamburini's +tenderness to the Church, and of the manner in which he cheats his +readers as to the spirit and meaning of the original, in the comment on +the passage in Canto XXI. of the "Paradise," where St. Peter Damiano +rebukes the luxury and pomp of the modern prelates, and mentions, among +their other displays of vanity, the size of their cloaks, "which cover +even their steeds, so that two beasts go under one skin." "Namely," says +the honest old commentator, "the beast of burden, and the beast who is +borne, who in truth is the more beastly of the two. And, indeed, were +the author now alive, he might change his words, and say, So that three +beasts go under one skin,--to wit, a cardinal, a harlot, and a horse; +for thus I have heard of one whom I knew well, that he carried his +mistress to the chase, seated behind him on the croup of his horse or +mule, and he himself was in truth 'as the horse or as the mule, which +have no understanding.'... And wonder not, Reader, if the author as a +poet thus reproach these prelates of the Church; for even great Doctors +and Saints have not been able to abstain from rebukes of this sort +against such men in the Church." Nothing of all this is to be found in +the Italian version. + +But it is not only in omission that the translator shows his devotion +to the Church. He takes upon himself not infrequently to alter the +character of Benvenuto's narratives by the insertion of phrases or the +addition of clauses to which there is nothing corresponding in the +original. The comment on Canto XIX. of the "Inferno" affords several +instances of this unfair procedure. "Among the Cardinals," says +Benvenuto, "was Benedict of Anagni, a man most skilful in managing great +affairs and in the rule of the world; who, moreover, sought the highest +dignity." "Vir astutissimus ad quseque magna negotia et imperia mundi; +qui etiam affectabat summam dignitatem." This appears in the translation +as follows: "Uomo astutissimo, perito d' affari, e conoscitore delle +altre corti: affettava un contegno il più umile, e reservato." "A man +most astute, skilled in affairs, and acquainted with other courts; he +assumed a demeanor the most humble and reserved." A little farther on, +Benvenuto tells us that many, even after the election of Benedict to the +Papacy, reputed Celestine to be still the true and rightful Pope, in +spite of his renunciation, because, they said, such a dignity could not +be renounced. To this statement the translator adds, "because it comes +directly from God,"--a clause for the benefit of readers under the +pontificate of Pius IX. + +In the comment on Canto XIX. of the "Purgatory" occurs the following +striking passage: "Summus Pontificatus, si bene geritur, est summus +honor, summum onus, summa servitus, summus labor. Si vero male, est +summum periculum animae, summum malum, summa miseria, summus pudor. Ergo +dubium est ex omni parte negotium. Ideo bene praefatus Adrianus Papa IV. +dicebat, Cathedram Petri spinosam, et Mantum ejus acutissimis per totum +consertum aculeis, et tantae gravitatis, ut robustissimos premat et +conterat humeros. Et concludebat, Nonne miseria dignus est qui pro tanta +pugnat miseria?" + +"The Papacy, if it be well borne, is the chief of honors, of burdens, of +servitudes, and of labors; but if ill, it is the chief of perils for the +soul, the chief of evils, of miseries, and of shames. Wherefore, it is +throughout a doubtful affair. And well did the aforesaid Pope Adrian IV. +say, that the Chair of Peter was thorny, and his Mantle full of sharpest +stings, and so heavy as to weigh down and bruise the stoutest shoulders; +and, added he, Does not that man deserve pity, who strives for a woe +like this?" + +This passage, so worthy of preservation and of literal translation, is +given by Signor Tamburini as follows: "The tiara is the first of honors, +but also the first and heaviest of burdens, and the most rigorous +slavery; it is the greatest risk of misfortune and of shame. The Papal +mantle is pierced with sharp thorns; who, then, will excuse him who +frets himself for it?" + +But it is not only in passages relating to the Church that the +translator's faithlessness is displayed. Almost every page of his work +exhibits some omission, addition, transposition, or paraphrase, for +which no explanation can be given, and not even an insufficient excuse +be offered. In Canto IX. of the "Paradise," Dante puts into the mouth of +Cunizza, speaking of Foulques of Marseilles, the words, "Before his fame +shall die, the hundredth year shall five times come around." "And note +here," says Benvenuto, "that our author manifestly tells a falsehood; +since of that man there is no longer any fame, even in his own country. +I say, in brief, that the author wishes tacitly to hint that he will +give fame to him by his power,--a fame that shall not die so long as +this book shall live; and if we may conjecture of the future, it is to +last for many ages, since we see that the fame of our author continually +increases. And thus he exhorts men to live virtuously, that the wise may +bestow fame upon them, as he himself has now given it to Cunizza, +and will give it to Foulques." Not a word of this appears in Signor +Tamburini's pages, interesting as it is as an early expression of +confidence in the duration of Dante's fame. + +A similar omission of a curious reference to Dante occurs in the comment +on the 23d verse of Canto XXVII. of the "Inferno," where Benvenuto, +speaking of the power of mental engrossment or moral affections to +overcome physical pain, says, "As I, indeed, have seen a sick man cause +the poem of Dante to be brought to him for relief from the burning pains +of fever." + +Such omissions as these deprive Benvenuto's pages of the charm of +_naïveté_, and of the simple expression of personal experience and +feeling with which they abound in the original, and take from them +a great part of their interest for the general reader. But there +is another class of omissions and alterations which deprives the +translation of value for the special student of the text of Dante,--a +class embracing many of Benvenuto's discussions of disputed readings and +remarks upon verbal forms. Signor Tamburini has thus succeeded in making +his book of no use as an authority, and prevented it from being referred +to by any one desirous of learning Benvenuto's judgment in any case +of difficulty. To point out in detail instances of this kind is not +necessary, after what we have already done. + +The common epithets of critical justice fail in such a case as that of +this work. The facts concerning it, as they present themselves one after +another, are stronger in their condemnation of it than any words. It +would seem as if nothing further could be added to the disgrace of the +translator; but we have still one more charge to prove against him, +worse than the incompetence, the ignorance, and the dishonesty of which +we have already found him guilty. In reading the last volume of his +work, after our suspicions of its character had been aroused, it seemed +to us that we met here and there with sentences which had a familiar +tone, which at least resembled sentences we had elsewhere read. We +found, upon examination, that Signor Tamburini, under the pretence of a +translation of Benvenuto, had inserted through his pages, with a liberal +hand, considerable portions of the well-known notes of Costa, and, more +rarely, of the still later Florentine editor, the Abate Bianchi. It +occurred to us as possible that Costa and Bianchi had in these passages +themselves translated from Benvenuto, and that Signor Tamburini had +simply adopted their versions without acknowledgment, to save himself +the trouble of making a new translation. But we were soon satisfied that +his trickery had gone farther than this, and that he had inserted the +notes of these editors to fill up his own pages, without the slightest +regard to their correspondence with or disagreement from the original +text. It is impossible to discover the motive of this proceeding; for +it certainly would seem to be as easy to translate, after the manner +in which Signor Tamburini translates, as to copy the words of other +authors. Moreover, his thefts seem quite without rule or order: he takes +one note and leaves the next; he copies a part, and leaves the other +part of the same note; he sometimes quotes half a page, sometimes only a +line or two in many pages. Costa's notes on the 98th and 100th verses +of Canto XXI. of the "Paradise" are taken out without the change of a +single word, and so also his note on v. 94 of the next Canto. In this +last instance we have the means of knowing what Benvenuto wrote, +because, although the passage has not been given by Muratori, it is +found in the note by Parenti, in the Florentine edition of the "Divina +Commedia" of 1830. "Vult dicere Benedictus quod miraculosius fuit +Jordanem converti retrorsum, et Mare Rubrum aperiri per medium, quam +si Deus succurreret et provideret istis malis. Ratio est quod utrumque +praedictorum miraculorum fuit contra naturam; sed punire reos et +nocentes naturale est et usitatum, quamvis Deus punierit peccatores +AEgyptios per modum inusitatum supernaturaliter Jordanus sic nominatur +a duobus fontibus, quorum unus vocatur JOR et alius vocatur DAN: inde +JORDANUS, ut ait Hieronymus, locorum orientalium persedulus indagator. +_Volto ritrorso;_ scilicet, versus ortum suum, vel contra: _el mar +fugire;_ idest, et Mare Rubrum fugere hinc inde, quando fecit viam +populo Dei, qui transivit sicco pede: _fu qui mirabile a vedere;_ idest, +miraculosius, _chel soccorso que,_ idest, quam esset mirabile succursum +divinum hic venturum ad puniendos perversos." Now this whole passage is +omitted in Signor Tamburini's work; and in its place appears a literal +transcript from Costa's note, as follows: "Veramente fu più mirabile +cosa vedere il Giordano volto all' indietro o fuggire il mare, quando +così volle Iddio, che non sarebbe vedere qui il provvedimento a quel +male, che per colpa de' traviati religiosi viene alia Chiesa di Dio." + +Another instance of this complete desertion of Benvenuto, and adoption +of another's words, occurs just at the end of the same Canto, v. 150; +and the Florentine edition again gives us the original text. It is even +more inexplicable why the so-called translator should have chosen this +course here than in the preceding instance; for he has copied but a line +and a half from Costa, which is not a larceny of sufficient magnitude to +be of value to the thief. + +We have noted misappropriations of this sort, beside those already +mentioned, in Cantos II. and III. of the "Purgatory," and in Cantos I., +II., XV., XVI., XVIII., XIX., and XXIII., of the "Paradise." There are +undoubtedly others which have not attracted our attention. + +We have now finished our exposure of the false pretences of these +volumes, and of the character of their author. After what has been said +of them, it seems hardly worth while to note, that, though handsome in +external appearance, they are very carelessly and inaccurately printed, +and that they are totally deficient in needed editorial illustrations. +Such few notes of his own as Signor Tamburini has inserted in the course +of the work are deficient alike in intelligence and in object. + +A literary fraud of this magnitude is rarely attempted. A man must be +conscious of being supported by the forces of a corrupt ecclesiastical +literary police before venturing on a transaction of this kind. No shame +can touch the President of the "Academy of the Industrious." His book +has the triple _Imprimatur_ of Rome. It is a comment, not so much on +Dante, as on the low standard of literary honesty under a government +where the press is shackled, where true criticism is forbidden, where +the censorship exerts its power over the dead as well as the living, and +every word must be accommodated to the fancied needs of a despotism the +more exacting from the consciousness of its own decline. + +It is to be hoped, that, with the new freedom of Italian letters, an +edition of the original text of Benvenuto's Comment will be issued under +competent supervision. The old Commentator, the friend of Petrarch and +Boccaccio, deserves this honor, and should have his fame protected +against the assault made upon it by his unworthy compatriot. + + +_Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character_. By E.E. RAMSAY, M.A., +LL.D., F.R. S.E., Dean of Edinburgh. From the Seventh Edinburgh Edition. +Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. + +This book was not made, but grew. The foundation was a short lecture +delivered in Edinburgh. It was so popular that it was published in a +pamphlet form. The popularity of the pamphlet induced Dean Ramsay to +recall many anecdotes illustrating national peculiarities which could +not be compressed into a lyceum address. The result was that the +pamphlet became a thin volume, which grew thicker and thicker as edition +after edition was called for by the curiosity of the public. The +American reprint is from the seventh and last Edinburgh edition, and is +introduced by a genial preface, written especially for American readers. +The author is more than justified in thinking that there are numerous +persons scattered over our country, who, from ties of ancestry or +sympathy with Scotland, will enjoy a record of the quaint sayings and +eccentric acts of her past humorists,--"her original and strong-minded +old ladies,--her excellent and simple parish ministers,--her amusing +parochial half-daft idiots,--her pawky lairds,--and her old-fashioned +and now obsolete domestic servants and retainers." Indeed, the Yankee is +sufficiently allied, morally and intellectually, with the Scotchman, to +appreciate everything that illustrates the peculiarities of Scottish +humor. He has shown this by the delight he has found in those novels +of Scott's which relate exclusively to Scotland. The Englishman, and +perhaps the Frenchman, may have excelled him in the appreciation of +"Ivanhoe" and "Quentin Durward," but we doubt if even the first +has equalled him in the cozy enjoyment of the "Antiquary" and "Guy +Mannering." And Dean Ramsay's book proves how rich and deep was the +foundation in fact of the qualities which Sir Walter has immortalized +in fiction. He has arranged his "Reminiscences of Scottish Life and +Character" under five heads, relating respectively to the religious +feelings and observances, the conviviality, the domestic service, the +language and proverbs, and the peculiarities of the wit and humor of +Scotland. In New England, and wherever in any part of the country +the New-Englander resides, the volume will receive a most cordial +recognition. Dean Ramsay's qualifications for his work are plainly +implied in his evident understanding and enjoyment of the humor of +Scottish character. He writes about that which he feels and knows; and, +without any exercise of analysis and generalization, he subtly conveys +to the reader the inmost spirit of the national life he undertakes to +illustrate by narrative, anecdote, and comment. The finest critical and +artistic skill would be inadequate to insinuate into the mind so +keen and vivid a perception of Scottish characteristics as escape +unconsciously from the simple statements of this true Scotchman, who is +in hearty sympathy with his countrymen. + + +_The Pulpit of the American Revolution: or, The Political Sermons of +the Period of_ 1776. With a Historical Introduction, Notes, and +Illustrations. By JOHN WINGATE THORNTON, A.M. Boston: Gould & Lincoln. +12mo. + +This is a volume worthy a place in every American library, public or +private. It consists of nine discourses by the same number of patriotic +clergymen of the Revolution. Mr. Thornton, the editor, has supplied an +historical introduction, full of curious and interesting matter, and has +also given a special preface to each sermon, with notes explaining all +those allusions in the text which might puzzle an ordinary reader of the +present day. His annotations have not only the value which comes from +patient research, but the charm which proceeds from loving partisanship. +He transports himself into the times about which he writes, and +almost seems to have listened to the sermons he now comes forward to +illustrate. The volume contains Dr. Mayhew's sermon on "Unlimited +Submission," Dr. Chauncy's on the "Repeal of the Stamp Act," Rev. Mr. +Cooke's Election Sermon on the "True Principles of Civil Government," +Rev. Mr. Gordon's "Thanksgiving Sermon in 1774," and the discourses, +celebrated in their day, of Langdon, Stiles, West, Payson, and Howard. +Among these, the first rank is doubtless due to Dr. Mayhew's remarkable +discourse at the West Church on the 30th of January, 1750. The topics +relating to "non-resistance to the higher powers," which Macaulay treats +with such wealth of statement, argument, and illustration, in his +"History of England," are in this sermon discussed with equal +earnestness, energy, brilliancy, fulness, and independence of thought. +If all political sermons were characterized by the rare mental and moral +qualities which distinguish Jonathan Mayhew's, there can be little doubt +that our politicians and statesmen would oppose the intrusion of parsons +into affairs of state on the principle of self-preservation, and not on +any arrogant pretension of superior sagacity, knowledge, and ability. +In the power to inform the people of their rights and teach them their +duties, we would be willing to pit one Mayhew against a score of +Cushings and Rhetts, of Slidells and Yanceys. The fact that Mayhew's +large and noble soul glowed with the inspiration of a quick moral and +religious, as well as common, sense, would not, in our humble opinion, +at all detract from his practical efficiency. + + +_Works of Charles Dickens Household Edition_. Illustrated from Drawings +by F.O.C. Darley and John Gilbert. The Pickwick Papers. New York: W.A. +Townsend & Co. 4 vols. 12mo. + +We have long needed a handsome American edition of the works of the most +popular English novelist of the time, and here we have the first volumes +of one which is superior, in type, paper, illustrations, and general +taste of mechanical execution, to the best English editions. It is to +be published at the rate of two volumes a month until completed, and in +respect both to cheapness and elegance is worthy of the most extensive +circulation. Such an enterprise very properly commences with "The +Pickwick Papers," the work in which the hilarity, humor, and tenderness +of the author's humane and beautiful genius first attracted general +regard; and it is to be followed by equally fine editions of the +romances which succeeded, and, as some think, eclipsed it in merit and +popularity. We most cordially wish success to an undertaking which +promises to substitute the finest workmanship of the Riverside Press for +the bad type and dingy paper of the common editions, and hope that the +publishers will see the propriety of adequately remunerating the author. + +It is pleasant to note that years and hard work have not dimmed the +brightness or impaired the strength of Dickens's mind. The freshness, +vigor, and affluence of his genius are not more evident in the "Old +Curiosity Shop" than in "Great Expectations," the novel he is now +publishing, in weekly parts, in "All the Year Round." Common as is the +churlish custom of depreciating a new work of a favorite author by +petulantly exalting the worth of an old one, no fair reader of "Great +Expectations" will feel inclined to say that Dickens has written +himself out. In this novel he gives us new scenes, new incidents, new +characters, and a new purpose; and from his seemingly exhaustless fund +of genial creativeness, we may confidently look for continual additions +to the works which have already established his fame. The characters +in "Great Expectations" are original, and some of them promise to rank +among his best delineations. Pip, the hero, who, as a child, "was +brought up by hand," and who appears so far to be led by it,--thus +illustrating the pernicious effect in manhood of that mode of taking +nourishment in infancy,--is a delicious creation, quite equal to David +Copperfield. Jaggers, the peremptory lawyer, who carries into ordinary +conduct and conversation the habits of the criminal bar, and bullies and +cross-examines even his dinner and his wine,--Joe, the husband of "the +hand" by which Pip was brought up,--Wopsle, Wemmick, Orlick, the family +of the Pockets, the mysterious Miss Havisham, and the disdainful +Estella, are not repetitions, but personages that the author introduces +to his readers for the first time. The story is not sufficiently +advanced to enable us to judge of its merit, but it has evidently been +carefully meditated, and here and there the reader's curiosity is stung +by fine hints of a secret which the weaver of the plot still contrives +to keep to himself. The power of observation, satire, humor, passion, +description, and style, which the novel exhibits, gives evidence that +Dickens is putting forth in its production his whole skill and strength. + + + + +RECENT AMERICAN PUBLICATIONS + +RECEIVED BY THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + + +A Message from the Sea; and the Uncommercial Traveller. By Charles +Dickens. Philadelphia. T.B. Peterson & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 330. $1.25. + +Secession, Coercion, and Civil War. The Story of 1861. Philadelphia. +T.B. Peterson & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 502. $1.25. + +Thoughts for Holy Week, for Young Persons. By Miss Sewell. Boston. E.P. +Dutton & Co. 24mo. pp. 184. 38 cts. + +Short Family Prayers for Every Morning and Evening of the Week, and for +Particular Occasions. By Jonathan W. Wainwright. Boston. E.P. Dutton & +Co. 12mo. pp. 164. 75 cts. + +The Life of George Washington. By Washington Irving. In Five Volumes. +Vol. IV. of a New Illustrated Edition. New York. G.P. Putnam. 12mo. pp. +479. $1.50. + +The Works of Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam. Collected and edited by +James Spedding and others. Volume XV., being Volume V. of the Literary +and Professional Works. Boston. Brown & Taggard. 12mo. pp. 449. 1.50. + +The Shadowy Land, and other Poems, including, the Guests of Brazil. By +Rev. Gurdon Huntington, A.M. New York. James Miller. 8vo. pp. 506. 1.50. + +History of Latin Christianity, including that of the Popes to the +Pontificate of Nicolas V. By Henry Hart Milman. Vol. VI. New York. +Sheldon & Co. 12mo. pp. 539. $1.50. + +Hebrew Men and Times, from the Patriarchs to the Messiah. By Joseph +Henry Allen. Boston. Walker, Wise, & Co. 12mo. pp. 429. $1.00. + +Suffolk Surnames. By Nathaniel I. Bowditch. Boston. Ticknor & Fields. +8vo. pp. 757. $3.00. + +Twelve Sermons delivered at Antioch College. By Horace Mann. Boston. +Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. pp. 314. $1.00. + +The Crossed Path; or, Basil. A Story of Modern Life. By Wilkie Collins. +Philadelphia. T.B. Peterson & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 317. $1.25. + +Father Tom and the Pope. Splendidly illustrated. Philadelphia. T.B. +Peterson & Brothers. 16mo. paper. pp. 105. 25 cts. + +Our Father and his Family Union. By William Henry Porter. Boston. +Published for the Author. 16mo. pp. 302. 75 cts. + +The Martyr Crisis. A Poem. Chicago. D.B. Cooke & Co. 16mo. pp. 79. 50 +cts. + +The Pickwick Papers. By Charles Dickens. New York. W.A. Townsend & Co. +16mo. 4 vols. 75 cts. per volume. + +Publii Vergilii Maronis Opera. Ex Recensione J. Conington, A.M. New +York. Harper & Brothers. 24mo. pp. 338. 40 cts. + +Thucydides. Recensuit Joannes Gulielmus Donaldson, S.T.P., Coll. SS. +Trin. apud Cantabr. quondam Socius. New York. Harper & Brothers. 2 vols. +24mo. pp. 305 and 298. 80 cts. + +The Ordeal of Free Labor in the British West Indies. By William G. +Sewell. New York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 325. $1.00. + +Trumps. A Novel. By George William Curtis. Illustrated by Augustus +Hoppin. New York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 502. $1.50. + +The Autobiography, Letters, and Literary Remains of Madam Piozzi (Mrs. +Thrale). Edited, with Notes, by A. Hayward. Boston. Ticknor & Fields. +12mo. pp. 531. $1.50. + +The Life and Career of Major John André. By Winthrop Sargent. Boston. +Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. pp. 471. 1.50. + +Currents and Counter-Currents. With other Addresses and Essays. By +Oliver Wendell Holmes. Boston. Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. pp. 406. $1.25. + +The Sable Cloud. A Story. By Rev. Nehemiah Adams. Boston. Ticknor & +Fields. 16mo. pp. 275. 75 cts. + +Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. By John Gibson Lockhart. +Vols. I. and II. Uniform with the Household Edition of the Waverley +Novels. Boston. 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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: Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 7, No. 43, May, 1861 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 19, 2004 [EBook #11170] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY, NO. 43 *** + + + + +Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Tonya Allen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + +A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + +VOL. VII.--MAY, 1861.--NO. XLIII. + + +AGNES OF SORRENTO. + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE OLD TOWN. + + +The setting sunbeams slant over the antique gateway of Sorrento, fusing +into a golden bronze the brown freestone vestments of old Saint Antonio, +who with his heavy stone mitre and upraised hands has for centuries kept +watch thereupon. + +A quiet time he has of it up there in the golden Italian air, in +petrified act of blessing, while orange lichens and green mosses from +year to year embroider quaint patterns on the seams of his sacerdotal +vestments, and small tassels of grass volunteer to ornament the folds +of his priestly drapery, and golden showers of blossoms from some more +hardy plant fall from his ample sleeve-cuffs. Little birds perch and +chitter and wipe their beaks unconcernedly, now on the tip of his nose +and now on the point of his mitre, while the world below goes on its way +pretty much as it did when the good saint was alive, and, in despair of +the human brotherhood, took to preaching to the birds and the fishes. + +Whoever passed beneath this old arched gateway, thus saint-guarded, +in the year of our Lord's grace--, might have seen under its shadow, +sitting opposite to a stand of golden oranges, the little Agnes. + +A very pretty picture was she, reader.--with such a face as you +sometimes see painted in those wayside shrines of sunny Italy, where the +lamp burns pale at evening, and gillyflower and cyclamen are renewed +with every morning. + +She might have been fifteen or thereabouts, but was so small of stature +that she seemed yet a child. Her black hair was parted in a white +unbroken seam down to the high forehead, whose serious arch, like that +of a cathedral-door, spoke of thought and prayer. Beneath the shadows of +this brow lay brown, translucent eyes, into whose thoughtful depths one +might look as pilgrims gaze into the waters of some saintly well, cool +and pure down to the unblemished sand at the bottom. The small lips had +a gentle compression which indicated a repressed strength of feeling; +while the straight line of the nose, and the flexible, delicate nostril, +were perfect as in those sculptured fragments of the antique which the +soil of Italy so often gives forth to the day from the sepulchres of the +past. The habitual pose of the head and face had the shy uplooking grace +of a violet; and yet there was a grave tranquillity of expression, which +gave a peculiar degree of character to the whole figure. + +At the moment at which we have called your attention, the fair head is +bent, the long eyelashes lie softly down on the pale, smooth cheek; for +the Ave Maria bell is sounding from the Cathedral of Sorrento, and the +child is busy with her beads. + +By her side sits a woman of some threescore years, tall, stately, and +squarely formed, with ample breadth of back and size of chest, like the +robust dames of Sorrento. Her strong Roman nose, the firm, determined +outline of her mouth, and a certain energy in every motion, speak the +woman of will and purpose. There is a degree of vigor in the decision +with which she lays down her spindle and bows her head, as a good +Christian of those days would, at the swinging of the evening bell. + +But while the soul of the child in its morning freshness, free from +pressure or conscience of earthly care, rose like an illuminated mist +to heaven, the words the white-haired woman repeated were twined with +threads of worldly prudence,--thoughts of how many oranges she had +sold, with a rough guess at the probable amount for the day,--and her +fingers wandered from her beads a moment to see if the last coin had +been swept from the stand into her capacious pocket, and her eyes +wandering after them suddenly made her aware of the fact that a handsome +cavalier was standing in the gate, regarding her pretty grandchild with +looks of undisguised admiration. + +"Let him look!" she said to herself, with a grim clasp on her +rosary;--"a fair face draws buyers, and our oranges must be turned into +money; but he who does more than look has an affair with me;--so gaze +away, my master, and take it out in buying oranges!--_Ave, Maria! ora +pro nobis, nunc et,_" etc., etc. + +A few moments, and the wave of prayer which had flowed down the quaint +old shadowy street, bowing all heads as the wind bowed the scarlet +tassels of neighboring clover-fields, was passed, and all the world +resumed the work of earth just where they left off when the bell began. + +"Good even to you, pretty maiden!" said the cavalier, approaching the +stall of the orange-woman with the easy, confident air of one secure +of a ready welcome, and bending down on the yet prayerful maiden the +glances of a pair of piercing hazel eyes that looked out on each side of +his aquiline nose with the keenness of a falcon's. + +"Good even to you, pretty one! We shall take you for a saint, and +worship you in right earnest, if you raise not those eyelashes soon." + +"Sir! my lord!" said the girl,--a bright color flushing into her smooth +brown cheeks, and her large dreamy eyes suddenly upraised with a +flutter, as of a bird about to take flight. + +"Agnes, bethink yourself!" said the white-haired dame;--"the gentleman +asks the price of your oranges;--be alive, child!" + +"Ah, my lord," said the young girl, "here are a dozen fine ones." + +"Well, you shall give them me, pretty one," said the young man, throwing +a gold piece down on the stand with a careless ring. + +"Here, Agnes, run to the stall of Raphael the poulterer for change," +said the adroit dame, picking up the gold. + +"Nay, good mother, by your leave," said the unabashed cavalier; "I make +my change with youth and beauty thus!" And with the word he stooped down +and kissed the fair forehead between the eyes. + +"For shame, Sir!" said the elderly woman, raising her distaff,--her +great glittering eyes flashing beneath her silver hair like tongues of +lightning from a white cloud, "Have a care!--this child is named for +blessed Saint Agnes, and is under her protection." + +"The saints must pray for us, when their beauty makes us forget +ourselves," said the young cavalier, with a smile. "Look me in the face, +little one," he added;--"say, wilt thou pray for me?" + +The maiden raised her large serious eyes, and surveyed the haughty, +handsome face with that look of sober inquiry which one sometimes sees +in young children, and the blush slowly faded from, her cheek, as a +cloud fades after sunset. + +"Yes, my lord," she answered, with a grave simplicity,--"I will pray for +you." + +"And hang this upon the shrine of Saint Agnes for my sake," he added, +drawing from his finger a diamond ring, which he dropped into her hand; +and before mother or daughter could add another word or recover from +their surprise, he had thrown the corner of his mantle over his shoulder +and was off down the narrow street, humming the refrain of a gay song. + +"You have struck a pretty dove with that bolt," said another cavalier, +who appeared to have been observing the proceeding, and now, stepping +forward, joined him. + +"Like enough," said the first, carelessly. + +"The old woman keeps her mewed up like a singing-bird," said the second; +"and if a fellow wants speech of her, it's as much as his crown is +worth; for Dame Elsie has a strong arm, and her distaff is known to be +heavy." + +"Upon my word," said the first cavalier, stopping and throwing a glance +backward,--"where do they keep her?" + +"Oh, in a sort of pigeon's nest up above the Gorge; but one never sees +her, except under the fire of her grandmother's eyes. The little one +is brought up for a saint, they say, and goes nowhere but to mass, +confession, and the sacrament." + +"Humph!" said the other, "she looks like some choice old picture of Our +Lady,--not a drop of human blood in her. When I kissed her forehead, she +looked into my face as grave and innocent as a babe. One is tempted to +try what one can do in such a case." + +"Beware the grandmother's distaff!" said the other, laughing. + +"I've seen old women before," said the cavalier, as they turned down the +street and were lost to view. + +Meanwhile the grandmother and granddaughter were roused from the mute +astonishment in which they were gazing after the young cavalier by a +tittering behind them; and a pair of bright eyes looked out upon, them +from beneath a bundle of long, crimson-headed clover, whose rich carmine +tints were touched to brighter life by setting sunbeams. + +There stood Giulietta, the head coquette of the Sorrento girls, with her +broad shoulders, full chest, and great black eyes, rich and heavy as +those of the silver-haired ox for whose benefit she had been cutting +clover. Her bronzed cheek was smooth as that of any statue, and showed a +color like that of an open pomegranate; and the opulent, lazy abundance +of her ample form, with her leisurely movements, spoke an easy and +comfortable nature,--that is to say, when Giulietta was pleased; for it +is to be remarked that there lurked certain sparkles deep down in her +great eyes, which might, on occasion, blaze out into sheet-lightning, +like her own beautiful skies, which, lovely as they are, can thunder +and sulk with terrible earnestness when the fit takes them. At present, +however, her face was running over with mischievous merriment, as she +slyly pinched little Agnes by the ear. + +"So you know not yon gay cavalier, little sister?" she said, looking +askance at her from under her long lashes. + +"No, indeed! What has an honest girl to do with knowing gay cavaliers?" +said Dame Elsie, bestirring herself with packing the remaining oranges +into a basket, which she covered trimly with a heavy linen towel of her +own weaving. "Girls never come to good who let their eyes go walking +through the earth, and have the names of all the wild gallants on +their tongues. Agnes knows no such nonsense,--blessed be her gracious +patroness, with Our Lady and Saint Michael!" + +"I hope there is no harm in knowing what is right before one's eyes," +said Giulietta. "Anybody must be blind and deaf not to know the Lord +Adrian. All the girls in Sorrento know him. They say he is even greater +than he appears,--that he is brother to the King himself; at any rate, a +handsomer and more gallant gentleman never wore spurs." + +"Let him keep to his own kind," said Elsie. "Eagles make bad work in +dovecots. No good comes of such gallants for us." + +"Nor any harm, that I ever heard of," said Giulietta. "But let me see, +pretty one,--what did he give you? Holy Mother! what a handsome ring!" + +"It is to hang on the shrine of Saint Agnes," said the younger girl, +looking up with simplicity. + +A loud laugh was the first answer to this communication. The scarlet +clover-tops shook and quivered with the merriment. + +"To hang on the shrine of Saint Agnes!" Giulietta repeated. "That is a +little too good!" + +"Go, go, you baggage!" said Elsie, wrathfully brandishing her spindle. +"If ever you get a husband, I hope he'll give you a good beating! You +need it, I warrant! Always stopping on the bridge there, to have cracks +with the young men! Little enough you know of saints, I dare say! So +keep away from my child!--Come, Agnes," she said, as she lifted the +orange-basket on to her head; and, straightening her tall form, she +seized the girl by the hand to lead her away. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE DOVE-COT. + + +The old town of Sorrento is situated on an elevated plateau, which +stretches into the sunny waters of the Mediterranean, guarded on all +sides by a barrier of mountains which defend it from bleak winds and +serve to it the purpose of walls to a garden. Here, groves of oranges +and lemons,--with their almost fabulous coincidence of fruitage with +flowers, fill the air with perfume, which blends with that of roses and +jessamines; and the fields are so starred and enamelled with flowers +that they might have served as the type for those Elysian realms sung by +ancient poets. The fervid air is fanned by continual sea-breezes, which +give a delightful elasticity to the otherwise languid climate. Under +all these cherishing influences, the human being develops a wealth and +luxuriance of physical beauty unknown in less favored regions. In the +region about Sorrento one may be said to have found the land where +beauty is the rule and not the exception. The singularity there is not +to see handsome points of physical proportion, but rather to see those +who are without them. Scarce a man, woman, or child you meet who has not +some personal advantage to be commended, while even striking beauty is +common. Also, under these kindly skies, a native courtesy and gentleness +of manner make themselves felt. It would seem as if humanity, rocked +in this flowery cradle, and soothed by so many daily caresses and +appliances of nursing Nature, grew up with all that is kindliest on the +outward,--not repressed and beat in, as under the inclement atmosphere +and stormy skies of the North. + +The town of Sorrento itself overhangs the sea, skirting along rocky +shores, which, hollowed here and there into picturesque grottoes, and +fledged with a wild plumage of brilliant flowers and trailing vines, +descend in steep precipices to the water. Along the shelly beach, at +the bottom, one can wander to look out on the loveliest prospect in the +world. Vesuvius rises with its two peaks softly clouded in blue and +purple mists, which blend with its ascending vapors,--Naples and the +adjoining villages at its base gleaming in the distance like a fringe +of pearls on a regal mantle. Nearer by, the picturesque rocky shores of +the island of Capri seem to pulsate through the dreamy, shifting mists +that veil its sides; and the sea shimmers and glitters like the neck +of a peacock with an iridescent mingling of colors: the whole air is a +glorifying medium, rich in prismatic hues of enchantment. + +The town on three sides is severed from the main land by a gorge two +hundred feet in depth and forty or fifty in breadth, crossed by a bridge +resting on double arches, the construction of which dates back to +the time of the ancient Romans. This bridge affords a favorite +lounging-place for the inhabitants, and at evening a motley assemblage +may be seen lolling over its moss-grown sides,--men with their +picturesque knit caps of scarlet or brown falling gracefully on one +shoulder, and women with their shining black hair and the enormous pearl +earrings which are the pride and heirlooms of every family. The present +traveller at Sorrento may remember standing on this bridge and looking +down the gloomy depths of the gorge, to where a fair villa, with its +groves of orange-trees and gardens, overhangs the tremendous depths +below. + +Hundreds of years since, where this villa now stands was the simple +dwelling of the two women whose history we have begun to tell you. There +you might have seen a small stone cottage with a two-arched arcade +in front, gleaming brilliantly white out of the dusky foliage of an +orange-orchard. The dwelling was wedged like a bird-box between two +fragments of rock, and behind it the land rose rocky, high, and steep, +so as to form a natural wall. A small ledge or terrace of cultivated +land here hung in air,--below it, a precipice of two hundred feet down +into the Gorge of Sorrento. A couple of dozen orange-trees, straight +and tall, with healthy, shining bark, here shot up from the fine black +volcanic soil, and made with their foliage a twilight shadow on the +ground, so deep that no vegetation, save a fine velvet moss, could +dispute their claim to its entire nutritious offices. These trees were +the sole wealth of the women and the sole ornament of the garden; but, +as they stood there, not only laden with golden fruit, but fragrant with +pearly blossoms, they made the little rocky platform seem a perfect +Garden of the Hesperides. The stone cottage, as we have said, had an +open, whitewashed arcade in front, from which one could look down into +the gloomy depths of the gorge, as into some mysterious underworld. +Strange and weird it seemed, with its fathomless shadows and its wild +grottoes, over which hung, silently waving, long pendants of ivy, while +dusky gray aloes uplifted their horned heads from great rock-rifts, like +elfin spirits struggling upward out of the shade. Nor was wanting the +usual gentle poetry of flowers; for white iris leaned its fairy pavilion +over the black void like a pale-cheeked princess from the window of some +dark enchanted castle, and scarlet geranium and golden broom and crimson +gladiolus waved and glowed in the shifting beams of the sunlight. Also +there was in this little spot what forms the charm of Italian gardens +always,--the sweet song and prattle of waters. A clear mountain-spring +burst through the rock on one side of the little cottage, and fell with +a lulling noise into a quaint moss-grown water-trough, which had been in +former times the sarcophagus of some old Roman sepulchre. Its sides were +richly sculptured with figures and leafy scrolls and arabesques, into +which the sly-footed lichens with quiet growth had so insinuated +themselves as in some places almost to obliterate the original design; +while, round the place where the water fell, a veil of ferns and +maiden's-hair, studded with tremulous silver drops, vibrated to its +soothing murmur. The superfluous waters, drained off by a little channel +on one side, were conducted through the rocky parapet of the garden, +whence they trickled and tinkled from rock to rock, falling with a +continual drip among the swaying ferns and pendent ivy-wreaths, till +they reached the little stream at the bottom of the gorge. This parapet +or garden-wall was formed of blocks or fragments of what had once been +white marble, the probable remains of the ancient tomb from which the +sarcophagus was taken. Here and there a marble acanthus-leaf, or the +capital of an old column, or a fragment of sculpture jutted from under +the mosses, ferns, and grasses with which prodigal Nature had filled +every interstice and carpeted the whole. These sculptured fragments +everywhere in Italy seem to whisper from the dust, of past life and +death, of a cycle of human existence forever gone, over whose tomb the +life of to-day is built. + +"Sit down and rest, my dove," said Dame Elsie to her little charge, as +they entered their little inclosure. + +Here she saw for the first time, what she had not noticed in the heat +and hurry of her ascent, that the girl was panting and her gentle bosom +rising and falling in thick heart-beats, occasioned by the haste with +which she had drawn her onward. + +"Sit down, dearie, and I will get you a bit of supper." + +"Yes, grandmother, I will. I must tell my beads once for the soul of the +handsome gentleman that kissed my forehead to-night." + +"How did you know that he was handsome, child?" said the old dame, with +some sharpness in her voice. + +"He bade me look on him, grandmother, and I saw it." + +"You must put such thoughts away, child," said the old dame. + +"Why must I?" said the girl, looking up with an eye as clear and +unconscious as that of a three-year old child. + +"If she does not think, why should I tell her?" said Dame Elsie, as she +turned to go into the house, and left the child sitting on the mossy +parapet that overlooked the gorge. Thence she could see far off, not +only down the dim, sombre abyss, but out to the blue Mediterranean +beyond, now calmly lying in swathing-bands of purple, gold, and orange, +while the smoky cloud that overhung Vesuvius became silver and rose in +the evening light. + +There is always something of elevation and parity that seems to come +over one from being in an elevated region. One feels morally as well as +physically above the world, and from that clearer air able to look down +on it calmly with disengaged freedom. Our little maiden, sat for a few +moments gazing, her large brown eyes dilating with a tremulous lustre, +as if tears were half of a mind to start in them, and her lips apart +with a delicate earnestness, like one who is pursuing some pleasing +inner thought. Suddenly rousing herself, she began by breaking the +freshest orange-blossoms from the golden-fruited trees, and, kissing and +pressing them to her bosom, she proceeded to remove the faded flowers of +the morning from before a little rude shrine in the rock, where, in a +sculptured niche, was a picture of the Madonna and Child, with a locked +glass door in front of it. The picture was a happy transcript of one of +the fairest creations of the religious school of Florence, done by one +of those rustic copyists of whom Italy is full, who appear to possess +the instinct of painting, and to whom we owe many of those sweet +faces which sometimes look down on us by the way-side from rudest and +homeliest shrines. + +The poor fellow by whom it had been painted was one to whom years before +Dame Elsie had given food and shelter for many months during a lingering +illness; and he had painted so much of his dying heart and hopes into it +that it had a peculiar and vital vividness in its power of affecting the +feelings. Agnes had been familiar with this picture from early infancy. +No day of her life had the flowers failed to be freshly placed before +it. It had seemed to smile down sympathy on her childish joys, and to +cloud over with her childish sorrows. It was less a picture to her than +a presence; and the whole air of the little orange-garden seemed to be +made sacred by it. When she had arranged her flowers, she kneeled down +and began to say prayers for the soul of the young gallant. + +"Holy Jesus," she said, "he is young, rich, handsome, and a king's +brother; and for all these things the Fiend may tempt him to forget his +God and throw away his soul. Holy Mother, give him good counsel!" + +"Come, child, to your supper," said Dame Elsie. "I have milked the +goats, and everything is ready." + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE GORGE. + + +After her light supper was over, Agnes took her distaff, wound with +shining white flax, and went and seated herself in her favorite place, +on the low parapet that overlooked the gorge. + +This ravine, with its dizzy depths, its waving foliage, its dripping +springs, and the low murmur of the little stream that pursued its way +far down at the bottom, was one of those things which stimulated her +impressible imagination, and filled her with a solemn and vague delight. +The ancient Italian tradition made it the home of fauns and dryads, wild +woodland creatures, intermediate links between vegetable life and that +of sentient and reasoning humanity. The more earnest faith that came in +with Christianity, if it had its brighter lights in an immortality of +blessedness, had also its deeper shadows in the intenser perceptions it +awakened of sin and evil, and of the mortal struggle by which the human +spirit must avoid endless woe and rise to endless felicity. The myths +with which the colored Italian air was filled in mediaeval ages no +longer resembled those graceful, floating, cloud-like figures one sees +in the ancient chambers of Pompeii,--the bubbles and rainbows of human +fancy, rising aimless and buoyant, with a mere freshness of animal life, +against a black background of utter and hopeless ignorance as to man's +past or future. They were rather expressed by solemn images of +mournful, majestic angels and of triumphant saints, or fearful, warning +presentations of loathsome fiends. Each lonesome gorge and sombre dell +had tales no more of tricky fauns and dryads, but of those restless, +wandering demons who, having lost their own immortality of blessedness, +constantly lie in wait to betray frail humanity, and cheat it of that +glorious inheritance bought by the Great Redemption. + +The education of Agnes had been one which rendered her whole system +peculiarly sensitive and impressible to all influences from the +invisible and unseen. Of this education we shall speak more particularly +hereafter. At present we see her sitting in the twilight on the +moss-grown marble parapet, her distaff, with its silvery flax, lying +idly in her hands, and her widening dark eyes gazing intently into the +gloomy gorge below, from which arose the far-off complaining babble of +the brook at the bottom and the shiver and sigh of evening winds +through the trailing ivy. The white mist was slowly rising, wavering, +undulating, and creeping its slow way up the sides of the gorge. Now it +hid a tuft of foliage, and now it wreathed itself around a horned clump +of aloes, and, streaming far down below it in the dimness, made it seem +like the goblin robe of some strange, supernatural being. + +The evening light had almost burned out in the sky: only a band of vivid +red lay low in the horizon out to sea, and the round full moon was just +rising like a great silver lamp, while Vesuvius with its smoky top began +in the obscurity to show its faintly flickering fires. A vague agitation +seemed to oppress the child; for she sighed deeply, and often repeated +with fervor the Ave Maria. + +At this moment there began to rise from the very depths of the gorge +below her the sound of a rich tenor voice, with a slow, sad modulation, +and seeming to pulsate upward through the filmy, shifting mists. It was +one of those voices which seem fit to be the outpouring of some spirit +denied all other gifts of expression, and rushing with passionate fervor +through this one gate of utterance. So distinctly were the words spoken, +that they seemed each one to rise as with a separate intelligence out of +the mist, and to knock at the door of the heart. + + Sad is my life, and lonely! + No hope for me, + Save thou, my love, my only, + I see! + + Where art then, O my fairest? + Where art thou gone? + Dove of the rock, I languish + Alone! + + They say thou art so saintly, + Who dare love thee? + Yet bend thine eyelids holy + On me! + + Though heaven alone possess thee, + Thou dwell'st above, + Yet heaven, didst thou but know it, + Is love. + +There was such an intense earnestness in these sounds, that large tears +gathered in the wide, dark eyes, and fell one after another upon the +sweet alyssum and maiden's-hair that grew in the crevices of the marble +wall. She shivered and drew away from the parapet, and thought of +stories she had heard the nuns tell of wandering spirits who sometimes +in lonesome places pour forth such entrancing music as bewilders the +brain of the unwary listener, and leads him to some fearful destruction. + +"Agnes!" said the sharp voice of old Elsie, appearing at the +door,--"here! where are you?" + +"Here, grandmamma." + +"Who's that singing this time o' night?" + +"I don't know, grandmamma." + +Somehow the child felt as if that singing were strangely sacred to +her,--a _rapport_ between her and something vague and invisible, which +might yet become dear. + +"Is't down in the gorge?" said the old woman, coming with her heavy, +decided step to the parapet, and looking over, her keen black eyes +gleaming like dagger-blades info the mist. "If there's anybody there," +she said, "let them go away, and not be troubling honest women with any +of their caterwauling. Come, Agnes," she said, pulling the girl by the +sleeve, "you must be tired, my lamb! and your evening-prayers are always +so long, best be about them, girl, so that old grandmamma may put you to +bed. What ails the girl? Been crying! Your hand is cold as a stone." + +"Grandmamma, what if that might be a spirit?" she said. "Sister Rosa +told me stories of singing spirits that have been in this very gorge." + +"Likely enough," said Dame Elsie; "but what's that to us? Let 'em sing! +--so long as we don't listen, where's the harm done? We will sprinkle +holy water all round the parapet, and say the office of Saint Agnes, and +let them sing till they are hoarse." + +Such was the triumphant view which this energetic good woman took of the +power of the means of grace which her church placed at her disposal. + +Nevertheless, while Agnes was kneeling at her evening-prayers, the old +dame consoled herself with a soliloquy, as with a brush she vigorously +besprinkled the premises with holy water. + +"Now, here's the plague of a girl! If she's handsome,--and nobody wants +one that isn't,--why, then, it's a purgatory to look after her. This one +is good enough,--none of your hussies, like Giulietta: but the better +they are, the more sure to have fellows after them. A murrain on that +cavalier,--king's brother, or what not!--it was he serenading, I'll be +bound. I must tell Antonio, and have the girl married, for aught I see: +and I don't want to give her to him either; he didn't bring her up. +There's no peace for us mothers. Maybe I'll tell Father Francesco about +it. That's the way poor little Isella was carried away. Singing is of +the Devil, I believe; it always bewitches girls. I'd like to have poured +some hot oil down the rocks: I'd have made him squeak in another tone, I +reckon. Well, well! I hope I shall come in for a good seat in paradise +for all the trouble I've had with her mother, and am like to have with +her,--that's all!" + +In an hour more, the large, round, sober moon was shining fixedly on +the little mansion in the rocks, silvering the glossy darkness of the +orange-leaves, while the scent of the blossoms arose like clouds about +the cottage. The moonlight streamed through the unglazed casement, and +made a square of light on the little bed where Agnes was sleeping, +in which square her delicate face was framed, with its tremulous and +spiritual expression most resembling in its sweet plaintive purity some +of the Madonna faces of Fra Angelico,--those tender wild-flowers of +Italian religion and poetry. + +By her side lay her grandmother, with those sharp, hard, clearly cut +features, so worn and bronzed by time, so lined with labor and care, as +to resemble one of the Fates in the picture of Michel Angelo; and even +in her sleep she held the delicate lily hand of the child in her own +hard, brown one, with a strong and determined clasp. + +While they sleep, we must tell something more of the story of the little +Agnes,--of what she is, and what are the causes which have made her +such. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHO AND WHAT. + + +Old Elsie was not born a peasant. Originally she was the wife of +a steward in one of those great families of Rome whose state and +traditions were princely. Elsie, as her figure and profile and all her +words and movements indicated, was of a strong, shrewd, ambitious, and +courageous character, and well disposed to turn to advantage every gift +with which Nature had endowed her. + +Providence made her a present of a daughter whose beauty was wonderful, +even in a country where beauty is no uncommon accident. In addition to +her beauty, the little Isella had quick intelligence, wit, grace, and +spirit. As a child she became the pet and plaything of the Duchess whom +Elsie served. This noble lady, pressed by the _ennui_ which is always +the moth and rust on the purple and gold of rank and wealth, had, +as other noble ladies had in those days, and have now, sundry pets: +greyhounds, white and delicate, that looked as if they were made of +Sevres china; spaniels with long silky ears and fringy paws; apes and +monkeys, that made at times sad devastations in her wardrobe; and a most +charming little dwarf, that was ugly enough to frighten the very owls, +and spiteful as he was ugly. She had, moreover, peacocks, and macaws, +and parrots, and all sorts of singing-birds, and falcons of every breed, +and horses, and hounds,--in short, there is no saying what she did not +have. One day she took it into her head to add the little Isella to the +number of her acquisitions. With the easy grace of aristocracy, she +reached out her jewelled hand and took Elsie's one flower to add to her +conservatory,--and Elsie was only too proud to have it so. + +Her daughter was kept constantly about the person of the Duchess, and +instructed in all the wisdom which would have been allowed her, had she +been the Duchess's own daughter, which, to speak the truth, was in +those days nothing very profound,--consisting of a little singing and +instrumentation, a little embroidery and dancing, with the power of +writing her own name and of reading a love-letter. + +All the world knows that the very idea of a pet is something to be +spoiled for the amusement of the pet-owner; and Isella was spoiled in +the most particular and circumstantial manner. She had suits of apparel +for every day in the year, and jewels without end,--for the Duchess was +never weary of trying the effect of her beauty in this and that costume; +so that she sported through the great grand halls and down the long +aisles of the garden much like a bright-winged hummingbird, or a +damsel-fly all green and gold. She was a genuine child of Italy,--full +of feeling, spirit, and genius,--alive in every nerve to the +finger-tips; and under the tropical sunshine of her mistress's favor she +grew as an Italian rose-bush does, throwing its branches freakishly over +everything in a wild labyrinth of perfume, brightness, and thorns. + +For a while her life was a triumph, and her mother triumphed with her at +an humble distance. The Duchess had no daughter, and was devoted to her +with the blind fatuity with which ladies of rank at times will invest +themselves in a caprice. She arrogated to herself all the praises of her +beauty and wit, allowed her to flirt and make conquests to her heart's +content, and engaged to marry her to some handsome young officer of her +train, when she had done being amused with her. + +Now we must not wonder that a young head of fifteen should have been +turned by this giddy elevation, nor that an old head of fifty should +have thought all things were possible in the fortune of such a favorite. +Nor must we wonder that the young coquette, rich in the laurels of a +hundred conquests, should have turned her bright eyes on the son and +heir, when he came home from the University of Bologna. Nor is it to be +wondered at that this same son and heir, being a man as well as a duke's +son, should have done as other men did,--fallen desperately in love with +this dazzling, sparkling, piquant mixture of matter and spirit, which no +university can prepare a young man to comprehend,--which always seemed +to run from him, and yet always threw a Parthian shot behind her as she +fled. Nor is it to be wondered at, if this same duke's son, after a week +or two, did not know whether he was on his head or his heels, or whether +the sun rose in the east or the south, or where he stood, or whither he +was going. + +In fact, the youthful pair very soon came into that dream-land where are +no more any points of the compass, no more division of time, no more +latitude and longitude, no more up and down, but only a general +wandering among enchanted groves and singing nightingales. + +It was entirely owing to old Elsie's watchful shrewdness and address +that the lovers came into this paradise by the gate of marriage; for the +young man was ready to offer anything at the feet of his divinity, as +the old mother was not slow to perceive. + +So they stood at the altar, for the time being a pair of as true lovers +as Romeo and Juliet: but then, what has true love to do with the son of +a hundred generations and heir to a Roman principality? + +Of course, the rose of love, having gone through all its stages of bud +and blossom into full flower, must next begin to drop its leaves. Of +course. Who ever heard of an immortal rose? + +The time of discovery came. Isella was found to be a mother; and then +the storm burst upon her and drabbled her in the dust as fearlessly as +the summer-wind sweeps down and besmirches the lily it has all summer +been wooing and flattering. + +The Duchess was a very pious and moral lady, and of course threw her +favorite out into the street as a vile weed, and virtuously ground her +down under her jewelled high-heeled shoes. + +She could have forgiven her any common frailty;--of course it was +natural that the girl should have been seduced by the all-conquering +charms of her son;--but aspire to _marriage_ with their house!--pretend +to be her son's _wife_! Since the time of Judas had such treachery ever +been heard of? + +Something was said of the propriety of walling up the culprit alive,--a +mode of disposing of small family-matters somewhat _a la mode_ in those +times. But the Duchess acknowledged herself foolishly tender, and unable +quite to allow this very obvious propriety in the case. + +She contented herself with turning mother and daughter into the streets +with every mark of ignominy, which was reduplicated by every one of her +servants, lackeys, and court-companions, who, of course, had always +known just how the thing must end. + +As to the young Duke, he acted as a well-instructed young nobleman +should, who understands the great difference there is between the tears +of a duchess and those of low-born women. No sooner did he behold his +conduct in the light of his mother's countenance than he turned his +back on his low marriage with edifying penitence. He did not think it +necessary to convince his mother of the real existence of a union whose +very supposition made her so unhappy, and occasioned such an uncommonly +disagreeable and tempestuous state of things in the well-bred circle +where his birth called him to move. Being, however, a religious youth, +he opened his mind to his family-confessor, by whose advice he sent a +messenger with a large sum of money to Elsie, piously commending her and +her daughter to the Divine protection. He also gave orders for an entire +new suit of raiment for the Virgin Mary in the family-chapel, including +a splendid set of diamonds, and promised unlimited candles to the altar +of a neighboring convent. If all this could not atone for a youthful +error, it was a pity. So he thought, as he drew on his riding-gloves +and went off on a hunting-party, like a gallant and religious young +nobleman. + +Elsie, meanwhile, with her forlorn and disgraced daughter, found a +temporary asylum in a neighboring mountain-village, where the poor, +bedrabbled, broken-winged song-bird soon panted and fluttered her little +life away. + +When the once beautiful and gay Isella had been hidden in the grave, +cold and lonely, there remained a little wailing infant, which Elsie +gathered to her bosom. + +Grim, dauntless, and resolute, she resolved, for the sake of this +hapless one, to look life in the face once more, and try the battle +under other skies. + +Taking the infant in her arms, she travelled with her far from the scene +of her birth, and set all her energies at work to make for her a better +destiny than that which had fallen to the lot of her unfortunate mother. + +She set about to create her nature and order her fortunes with that sort +of downright energy with which resolute people always attack the problem +of a new human existence. This child _should be happy_; the rocks on +which her mother was wrecked she should never strike upon,--they were +all marked on Elsie's chart. Love had been the root of all poor Isella's +troubles,--and Agnes never should know love, till taught it safely by a +husband of Elsie's own choosing. + +The first step of security was in naming her for the chaste Saint Agnes, +and placing her girlhood under her special protection. Secondly, which +was quite as much to the point, she brought her up laboriously in habits +of incessant industry,--never suffering her to be out of her sight, or +to have any connection or friendship, except such as could be carried on +under the immediate supervision of her piercing black eyes. Every night +she put her to bed as if she had been an infant, and, wakening her again +in the morning, took her with her in all her daily toils,--of which, to +do her justice, she performed all the hardest portion, leaving to the +girl just enough to keep her hands employed and her head steady. + +The peculiar circumstance which had led her to choose the old town +of Sorrento for her residence, in preference to any of the beautiful +villages which impearl that fertile plain, was the existence there of +a flourishing convent dedicated to Saint Agnes, under whose protecting +shadow her young charge might more securely spend the earlier years of +her life. + +With this view, having hired the domicile we have already described, +she lost no time in making the favorable acquaintance of the +sisterhood,--never coming to them empty-handed. The finest oranges of +her garden, the whitest flax of her spinning, were always reserved as +offerings at the shrine of the patroness whom she sought to propitiate +for her grandchild. + +In her earliest childhood the little Agnes was led toddling to the +shrine by her zealous relative; and at the sight of her fair, sweet, +awe-struck face, with its viny mantle of encircling curls, the torpid +bosoms of the sisterhood throbbed with a strange, new pleasure, which +they humbly hoped was not sinful,--as agreeable things, they found, +generally were. They loved the echoes of her little feet down the damp, +silent aisles of their chapel, and her small, sweet, slender voice, as +she asked strange baby-questions, which, as usual with baby-questions, +hit all the insoluble points of philosophy and theology exactly on the +head. + +The child became a special favorite with the Abbess, Sister Theresa, a +tall, thin, bloodless, sad-eyed woman, who looked as if she might have +been cut out of one of the glaciers of Monte Rosa, but in whose heart +the little fair one had made herself a niche, pushing her way up +through, as you may have seen a lovely blue-fringed gentian standing in +a snow-drift of the Alps with its little ring of melted snow around it. + +Sister Theresa offered to take care of the child at any time when the +grandmother wished to be about her labors; and so, during her early +years, the little one was often domesticated for days together at the +Convent. A perfect mythology of wonderful stories encircled her, which +the good sisters were never tired of repeating to each other. They +were the simplest sayings and doings of childhood,--handfuls of such +wild-flowers as bespread the green turf of nursery-life everywhere, but +miraculous blossoms in the eyes of these good women, whom Saint Agnes +had unwittingly deprived of any power of making comparisons or ever +having Christ's sweetest parable of the heavenly kingdom enacted in +homes of their own. + +Old Jocunda, the porteress, never failed to make a sensation with her +one stock-story of how she found the child standing on her head and +crying,--having been put into this reversed position in consequence of +climbing up on a high stool to get her little fat hand into the vase of +holy water, failing in which Christian attempt, her heels went up and +her head down, greatly to her dismay. + +"Nevertheless," said old Jocunda, gravely, "it showed an edifying turn +in the child; and when I lifted the little thing up, it stopped crying +the minute its little fingers touched the water, and it made a cross on +its forehead as sensible as the oldest among us. Ah, sisters! there's +grace there, or I'm mistaken." + +All the signs of an incipient saint were, indeed, manifested in the +little one. She never played the wild and noisy plays of common +children, but busied herself in making altars and shrines, which she +adorned with the prettiest flowers of the gardens, and at which she +worked hour after hour in the quietest and happiest earnestness. Her +dreams were a constant source of wonder and edification in the Convent, +for they were all of angels and saints; and many a time, after hearing +one, the sisterhood crossed themselves, and the Abbess said, _"Ex oribus +parvulorum."_ Always sweet, dutiful, submissive, cradling herself every +night with a lulling of sweet hymns and infant murmur of prayers, and +found sleeping in her little white bed with her crucifix clasped to her +bosom, it was no wonder that the Abbess thought her the special favorite +of her divine patroness, and, like her, the subject of an early vocation +to be the celestial bride of One fairer than the children of men, who +should snatch her away from all earthly things, to be united to Him in a +celestial paradise. + +As the child grew older, she often sat at evening, with wide, wondering +eyes, listening over and over again to the story of the fair Saint +Agnes:--How she was a princess, living in her father's palace, of such +exceeding beauty and grace that none saw her but to love her, yet of +such sweetness and humility as passed all comparison; and how, when a +heathen prince would have espoused her to his son, she said, "Away from +me, tempter! for I am betrothed to a lover who is greater and fairer +than any earthly suitor,--he is so fair that the sun and moon are +ravished by his beauty, so mighty that the angels of heaven are his +servants"; how she bore meekly with persecutions and threatenings and +death for the sake of this unearthly love; and when she had poured out +her blood, how she came to her mourning friends in ecstatic vision, all +white and glistening, with a fair lamb by her side, and bade them weep +not for her, because she was reigning with Him whom on earth she had +preferred to all other lovers. There was also the legend of the fair +Cecilia, the lovely musician whom angels had rapt away to their choirs; +the story of that queenly saint, Catharine, who passed through the +courts of heaven, and saw the angels crowned with roses and lilies, and +the Virgin on her throne, who gave her the wedding-ring that espoused +her to be the bride of the King Eternal. + +Fed with such legends, it could not be but that a child with a +sensitive, nervous organization and vivid imagination should have grown +up with an unworldly and spiritual character, and that a poetic mist +should have enveloped all her outward perceptions similar to that +palpitating veil of blue and lilac vapor that enshrouds the Italian +landscape. + +Nor is it to be marvelled at, if the results of this system of education +went far beyond what the good old grandmother intended. For, though a +stanch good Christian, after the manner of those times, yet she had not +the slightest mind to see her grand-daughter a nun; on the contrary, +she was working day and night to add to her dowry, and had in her eye +a reputable middle-aged blacksmith, who was a man of substance and +prudence, to be the husband and keeper of her precious treasure. In a +home thus established she hoped to enthrone herself, and provide for the +rearing of a generation of stout-limbed girls and boys who should grow +up to make a flourishing household in the land. This subject she had +not yet broached to her grand-daughter, though daily preparing to do +so,--deferring it, it must be told, from a sort of jealous, yearning +craving to have wholly to herself the child for whom she had lived so +many years. + +Antonio, the blacksmith to whom this honor was destined, was one of +those broad-backed, full-chested, long-limbed fellows one shall often +see around Sorrento, with great, kind, black eyes like those of an ox, +and all the attributes of a healthy, kindly, animal nature. Contentedly +he hammered away at his business; and certainly, had not Dame Elsie +of her own providence elected him to be the husband of her fair +grand-daughter, he would never have thought of the matter himself; but, +opening the black eyes aforenamed upon the girl, he perceived that she +was fair, and also received an inner light through Dame Elsie as to the +amount of her dowry; and, putting these matters together, conceived a +kindness for the maiden, and awaited with tranquillity the time when he +should be allowed to commence his wooing. + + + + +REST AND MOTION. + + +Motion and Rest are the two feet upon which existence goes. All action +and all definite power result from the intimacy and consent of these +opposite principles. If, therefore, one would construct any serviceable +mechanism, he must incorporate into it, and commonly in a manifold way, +a somewhat passive, a somewhat contrary, and, as it were, inimical to +action, though action be the sole aim and use of his contrivance. Thus, +the human body is penetrated by the passive and powerless skeleton, +which is a mere weight upon the muscles, a part of the burden that, +nevertheless, it enables them to bear. The lever of Archimedes would +push the planet aside, provided only it were supplied with its +indispensable complement, a fulcrum, or fixity: without this it will not +push a pin. The block of the pulley must have its permanent attachment; +the wheel of the locomotive engine requires beneath it the fixed rail; +the foot of the pedestrian, solid earth; the wing of the bird rests upon +the relatively stable air to support his body, and upon his body to gain +power over the air. Nor is it alone of operations mechanical that the +law holds good: it is universal; and its application to pure mental +action may be shown without difficulty. A single act of the mind is +represented by the formation of a simple sentence. The process consists, +first, in the mind's _fixing upon and resting in_ an object, which +thereby becomes the subject of the sentence; and, secondly, in +predication, which is movement, represented by the verb. The reader will +easily supply himself with instances and illustrations of this, and need +not, therefore, be detained. + +In the economy of animal and vegetable existence, as in all that Nature +makes, we observe the same inevitable association. Here is perpetual +fixity of form, perpetual flux of constituent,--the ideas of Nature +never changing, the material realization of them never ceasing to +change. A horse is a horse through all the ages; yet the horse of to-day +is changed from the horse of yesterday. + +If one of these principles seem to get the start, and to separate +itself, the other quickly follows. No sooner, for example, does any +person perform an initial deed, proceeding purely (let us suppose) from +free will, than Nature in him begins to repose therein, and consequently +inclines to its repetition for the mere reason that it has been once +done. This is Habit, which makes action passive, and is the greatest of +labor-saving inventions. Custom is the habit of society, holding the +same relation to progressive genius. It is the sleeping partner in the +great social firm; it is thought and force laid up and become +fixed capital. Annihilate this,--as in the French Revolution was +attempted,--and society is at once reduced to its bare immediate force, +and must scratch the soil with its fingers. + +Sometimes these principles seem to be strictly hostile to each other and +in no respect reciprocal, as where habit in the individual and custom in +society oppose themselves bitterly to free will and advancing thought: +yet even here the special warfare is but the material of a broader and +more subtile alliance. An obstinate fixity in one's bosom often serves +as a rock on which to break the shell of some hard inclosed faculty. +Upon stepping-stones of our _slain_ selves we mount to new altitudes. So +do the antagonisms of these principles in the broader field of society +equally conceal a fundamental reciprocation. By the opposition to +his thought of inert and defiant custom, the thinker is compelled to +interrogate his consciousness more deeply and sacredly; and being +cut off from that sympathy which has its foundation in similarity of +temperaments and traditions, he must fall back with simpler abandonment +upon the pure idea, and must seek responses from that absolute nature of +man which the men of his time are not human enough to afford him. This +absolute nature, this divine identity in man, underrunning times, +temperaments, individualities, is that which poet and prophet must +address: yet to speak _to_ it, they must speak _from_ it; to be heard +by the universal heart, they must use a universal language. But +this marvellous vernacular can be known to him alone whose heart is +universal, in whom even self-love is no longer selfish, but is a pure +respect to his own being as it is Being. Well it is, therefore, that +here and there one man should be so denied all petty and provincial +claim to attention, that only by speaking to Man as Man, and in the +sincerest vernacular of the human soul, he can find audience; for thus +it shall become his need, for the sake of joy no less than of duty, to +know himself purely as man, and to yield himself wholly to his immortal +humanity. Thus does fixed custom force back the most moving souls, until +they touch the springs of inspiration, and are indued with power: then, +at once potent and pure, they gush into history, to be influences, to +make epochs, and to prevail over that through whose agency they first +obtained strength. + +Thus, everywhere, through all realms, do the opposite principles of Rest +and Motion depend upon and reciprocally empower each other. In every +act, mechanical, mental, social, must both take part and consent +together; and upon the perfection of this consent depends the quality +of the action. Every progress is conditioned on a permanence; every +permanence _lives_ but in and through progress. Where all, and with +equal and simultaneous impulse, strives to move, nothing can move, but +chaos is come; where all refuses to move, and therefore stagnates, decay +supervenes, which is motion, though a motion downward. + +Having made this general statement, we proceed to say that there are two +chief ways in which these universal opposites enter into reciprocation. +The first and more obvious is the method of alternation, or of rest +_from_ motion; the other, that of continuous equality, which may be +called a rest _in_ motion. These two methods, however, are not mutually +exclusive, but may at once occupy the same ground, and apply to the same +objects,--as oxygen and nitrogen severally fill the same space, to the +full capacity of each, as though the other were absent. + +Instances of the alternation, either total or approximative, of these +principles are many and familiar. They may be seen in the systole and +diastole of the heart; in the alternate activity and passivity of the +lungs; in the feet of the pedestrian, one pausing while the other +proceeds; in the waving wings of birds; in the undulation of the sea; in +the creation and propagation of sound, and the propagation, at least, +of light; in the alternate acceleration and retardation of the earth's +motion in its orbit, and in the waving of its poles. In all vibrations +and undulations there is a going and returning, between which must exist +minute periods of repose; but in many instances the return is simply a +relaxation or a subsidence, and belongs, therefore, to the department of +rest. Discourse itself, it will be observed, has its pauses, seasons of +repose thickly interspersed in the action of speech; and besides these +has its accented and unaccented syllables, emphatic and unemphatic +words,--illustrating thus in itself the law which it here affirms. +History is full of the same thing; the tides of faith and feeling now +ascend and now subside, through all the ages, in the soul of humanity; +each new affirmation prepares the way for new doubt, each honest doubt +in the end furthers and enlarges belief; the pendulum of destiny swings +to and fro forever, and earth's minutest life and heaven's remotest star +swing with it, rising but to fall, and falling that they may rise again. +So does rhythm go to the very bottom of the world: the heart of Nature +pulses, and the echoing shore and all music and the throbbing heart and +swaying destinies of man but follow and proclaim the law of her inward +life. + +The universality and mutual relationship of these primal principles +have, perhaps, been sufficiently set forth; and this may be the place to +emphasize the second chief point,--that the perfection of this mutuality +measures the degree of excellence in all objects and actions. It +will everywhere appear, that, the more regular and symmetrical their +relationship, the more beautiful and acceptable are its results. For +example, sounds proceeding from vibrations wherein the strokes and +pauses are in invariable relation are such sounds as we denominate +_musical._ Accordingly all sounds are musical at a sufficient distance, +since the most irregular undulations are, in a long journey through the +air, wrought to an equality, and made subject to exact law,--as in +this universe all irregularities are sure to be in the end. Thus, the +thunder, which near at hand is a wild crash, or nearer yet a crazy +crackle, is by distance deepened and refined into that marvellous bass +which we all know. And doubtless the jars, the discords, and moral +contradictions of time, however harsh and crazy at the outset, flow +into exact undulation along the ether of eternity, and only as a pure +proclamation of law attain to the ear of Heaven. Nay, whoso among men is +able to plant his ear high enough above this rude clangor may, in like +manner, so hear it, that it shall be to him melody, solace, fruition, +a perpetual harvest of the heart's dearest wishes, a perpetual +corroboration of that which faith affirms. + +We may therefore easily understand why musical sounds _are_ musical, why +they are acceptable and moving, while those affront the sense in which +the minute reposes are capricious, and, as it were, upon ill terms with +the movements. The former appeal to what is most universal and cosmical +within us,--to the pure Law, the deep Nature in our breasts; they fall +in with the immortal rhythm of life itself, which the others encounter +and impugn. + +It will be seen also that verse differs from prose as musical sounds +from ordinary tones; and having so deep a ground in Nature, rhythmical +speech will be sure to continue, in spite of objection and protest, were +it, if possible, many times more energetic than that of Mr. Carlyle. But +always the best prose has a certain rhythmic emphasis and cadence: in +Milton's grander passages there is a symphony of organs, the bellows of +the mighty North (one might say) filling their pipes; Goldsmith's flute +still breathes through his essays; and in the ampler prose of Bacon +there is the swell of a summer ocean, and you can half fancy you hear +the long soft surge falling on the shore. Also in all good writing, +as in good reading, the pauses suffer no slight; they are treated +handsomely; and each sentence rounds gratefully and clearly into rest. +Sometimes, indeed, an attempt is made to react in an illegitimate way +this force of firm pauses, as in exaggerated French style, wherein the +writer seems never to stride or to run, but always to jump like a frog. + +Again, as reciprocal opposites, our two principles should be of equal +dignity and value. To concede, however, the equality of rest with motion +must, for an American, be not easy; and it is therefore in point to +assert and illustrate this in particular. What better method of doing so +than that of taking some one large instance in Nature, if such can +be found, and allowing this, after fair inspection, to stand for all +others? And, as it happens, just what we require is quite at hand;--the +alternation of Day and Night, of sleep and waking, is so broad, obvious, +and familiar, and so mingled with our human interests, that its two +terms are easily subjected to extended and clear comparison; while also +it deserves discussion upon its own account, apart from its relation to +the general subject. + +Sleep is now popularly known to be coextensive with Life,--inseparable +from vital existence of whatever grade. The rotation of the earth +is accordingly implied, as was happily suggested by Paley, in the +constitution of every animal and every plant. It is quite evident, +therefore, that this necessity was not laid upon, man through some +inadvertence of Nature; on the contrary, this arrangement must be such +as to her seemed altogether suitable, and, if suitable, economical. +Eager men, however, avaricious of performance, do not always regard it +with entire complacency. Especially have the saints been apt to set up +a controversy with Nature in this particular, submitting with infinite +unwillingness to the law by which they deem themselves, as it were, +defrauded of life and activity in so large measure. In form, to be +sure, their accusation lies solely against themselves; they reproach +themselves with sleeping beyond need, sleeping for the mere luxury and +delight of it; but the venial self-deception is quite obvious,--nothing +plainer than that it is their necessity itself which is repugnant to +them, and that their wills are blamed for not sufficiently withstanding +and thwarting it. Pious William Law, for example, is unable to disparage +sleep enough for his content. "The poorest, dullest refreshment of the +body," he calls it,... "such a dull, stupid state of existence, that +even among animals we despise them most which are most drowsy." +You should therefore, so he urges, "begin the day in the spirit of +renouncing sleep." Baxter, also,--at that moment a walking catalogue +and epitome of all diseases,--thought himself guilty for all sleep he +enjoyed beyond three hours a day. More's Utopians were to rise at very +early hours, and attend scientific lectures before breakfast. + +Ambition and cupidity, which, in their way, are no whit less earnest and +self-sacrificing than sanctity, equally look upon sleep as a wasteful +concession to bodily wants, and equally incline to limit such concession +to its mere minimum. Commonplaces accordingly are perpetually +circulating in the newspapers, especially in such as pretend to a +didactic tone, wherein all persons are exhorted to early rising, to +resolute abridgment of the hours of sleep, and the like. That Sir Walter +Raleigh slept but five hours in twenty-four; that John Hunter, Frederick +the Great, and Alexander von Humboldt slept but four; that the Duke of +Wellington made it an invariable rule to "turn out" whenever he felt +inclined to turn over, and John Wesley to arise upon his first awaking: +instances such as these appear on parade with the regularity of militia +troops at muster; and the precept duly follows,--"Whoso would not be +insignificant, let him go and do likewise." "All great men have been +early risers," says my newspaper. + +Of late, indeed, a better knowledge of the laws of health, or perhaps +only a keener sense of its value and its instability, begins to +supersede these rash inculcations; and paragraphs due to some discreet +Dr. Hall make the rounds of the press, in which we are reminded that +early rising, in order to prove a benefit, rather than a source of +mischief, must be duly matched with early going to bed. The one, we are +told, will by no means answer without the other. As yet, however, this +is urged upon hygienic grounds alone; it is a mere concession to the +body, a bald necessity that we hampered mortals lie under; which +necessity we are quite at liberty to regret and accuse, though we cannot +with safety resist it. Sleep is still admitted to be a waste of time, +though one with which Nature alone is chargeable. And I own, not without +reluctance, that the great authority of Plato can be pleaded for this +low view of its functions. In the "Laws" he enjoins a due measure +thereof, but for the sake of health alone, and adds, that the sleeper +is, for the time, of no more value than the dead. Clearly, mankind would +sustain some loss of good sense, were all the dullards and fat-wits +taken away; and Sancho Panza, with his hearty, "Blessings on the man +that invented sleep!" here ekes out the scant wisdom of sages. The +talking world, however, of our day takes part with the Athenian against +the Manchegan philosopher, and, while admitting the present necessity of +sleep, does not rejoice in its original invention. If, accordingly, in a +computation of the length of man's life, the hours passed in slumber are +carefully deducted, and considered as forming no part of available time, +not even the medical men dispute the justice of such procedure. They +have but this to say:--"The stream of life is not strong enough to keep +the mill of action always going; we must therefore periodically shut +down the gate and allow the waters to accumulate; and he ever loses more +than he gains who attempts any avoidance of this natural necessity." + +As medical men, they are not required, perhaps, to say more; and we will +be grateful to them for faithfully urging this,--especially when we +consider, that, under the sage arrangements now existing, all that the +physician does for the general promotion of health is done in defiance +of his own interests. We, however, have further questions to ask. Why is +not the life-stream more affluent? Sleep _is_ needful,--but _wherefore_? +The physician vindicates the sleeper; but the philosopher must vindicate +Nature. + +It is surely one step toward an elucidation of this matter to observe +that the necessity here accused is not one arbitrarily laid upon us _by_ +Nature, but one existing _in_ Nature herself, and appertaining to the +very conception of existence. The elucidation, however, need not pause +at this point. The assumption that sleep is a piece of waste, as being a +mere restorative for the body, and not a service or furtherance to the +mind,--this must be called in question and examined closely; for it is +precisely in this assumption, as I deem, that the popular judgment goes +astray. _Is_ sleep any such arrest and detention of the mind? That it is +a shutting of those outward gates by which impressions flow in upon the +soul is sufficiently obvious; but who can assure us that it is equally +a closing of those inward and skyward gates through which come +the reinforcements of faculty, the strength that masters and uses +impression? I persuade myself, on the contrary, that it is what Homer +called it, _divine_,--able, indeed, to bring the blessing of a god; and +that hours lawfully passed under the pressure of its heavenly palms are +fruitful, not merely negatively, but positively, not only as recruiting +exhausted powers, and enabling us to be awake again, but by direct +contribution to the resources of the soul and the uses of life; that, in +fine, one awakes farther on in _life_, as well as farther on in _time_, +than he was at falling asleep. This deeper function of the night, what +is it? + +Sleep is, first of all, a filter, or sieve. It strains off the +impressions that engross, but not enrich us,--that superfluous +_material_ of experience which, either from glutting excess, or from +sheer insignificance, cannot be spiritualized, made human, transmuted +into experience itself. Every man in our day, according to the measure +of his sensibility, and with some respect also to his position, is +_mobbed_ by impressions, and must fight as for his life, if he escape +being taken utterly captive by them. It is our perpetual peril that +our lives shall become so sentient as no longer to be reflective or +artistic,--so beset and infested by the immediate as to lose all +amplitude, all perspective, and to become mere puppets of the present, +mere Chinese pictures, a huddle of foreground without horizon, or +heaven, or even earthly depth and reach. It is easy to illustrate this +miserable possibility. A man, for example, in the act of submitting +to the extraction of a tooth, is, while the process lasts, one of the +poorest poor creatures with whose existence the world might be taunted. +His existence is but skin-deep, and contracted to a mere point at that: +no vision and faculty divine, no thoughts that wander through eternity, +now: a tooth, a jaw, and the iron of the dentist,--these constitute, for +the time being, his universe. Only when this monopolizing, enslaving, +sensualizing impression has gone by, may what had been a point of pained +and quivering animality expand once more to the dimensions of a human +soul. Kant, it is said, could withdraw his attention from the pain of +gout by pure mental engagement, but found the effort dangerous to +his brain, and accordingly was fain to submit, and be no more than +a toe-joint, since evil fate would have it so. These extreme cases +exemplify a process of impoverishment from which we all daily suffer. +The external, the immediate, the idiots of the moment, telling tales +that signify nothing, yet that so overcry the suggestion of our deeper +life as by the sad and weary to be mistaken for the discourse of life +itself,--these obtrude themselves upon us, and multiply and brag and +brawl about us, until we have neither room for better guests, nor +spirits for their entertainment. We are like schoolboys with eyes out at +the windows, drawn by some rattle of drum and squeak of fife, who would +study, were they but deaf. Reproach sleep as a waste, forsooth! It is +this tyrannical attraction to the surface, that indeed robs us of time, +and defrauds us of the uses of life. We cannot hear the gods for the +buzzing of flies. We are driven to an idle industry,--the idlest of all +things. + +And to this description of loss men are nowadays peculiarly exposed. +The modern world is all battle-field; the smoke, the dust, the din fill +every eye and ear; and the hill-top of Lucretius, where is it? The +indispensable, terrible newspaper, with its late allies, the Titans and +sprites of steam and electricity,--bringing to each retired nook, +and thrusting in upon each otherwise peaceful household, the crimes, +follies, fears, solicitudes, doubts, problems of all kingdoms and +peoples,--exasperates the former Scotch mist of impressions into a +flooding rain, and almost threatens to swamp the brain of mankind. The +incitement to thought is ever greater; but the possibility of thinking, +especially of thinking in a deep, simple, central way, is ever less. +Problems multiply, but how to attend to them is ever a still greater +problem. Guests of the intellect and imagination accumulate until the +master of the house is pushed out of doors, and hospitality ceases from +the mere excess of its occasion. That must be a greater than Homer who +should now do Homer's work. He, there in his sweet, deep-skied Ionia, +privileged with an experience so simple and yet so salient and powerful, +might well hope to act upon this victoriously by his spirit, might hope +to transmute it, as indeed he did, into melodious and enduring human +suggestion. Would it have been all the same, had he lived in our +type-setting modern world, with its multitudinous knowledges, its +aroused conscience, its spurred and yet thwarted sympathies, its new +incitements to egotism also, and new tools and appliances for egotism +to use,--placed, as it were, in the focus of a vast whispering-gallery, +where all the sounds of heaven and earth came crowding, contending, +incessant upon his ear? One sees at a glance how the serious thought and +poetry of Greece cling to a few master facts, not being compelled to +fight always with the many-headed monster of detail; and this suggests +to me that our literature may fall short of Grecian amplitude, depth, +and simplicity, not wholly from inferiority of power, but from +complications appertaining to our position. + +The problem of our time is, How to digest and assimilate the Newspaper? +To complain of it, to desire its abolition, is an anachronism of the +will: it is to complain that time proceeds, and that events follow each +other in due sequence. It is hardly too bold to say that the newspaper +_is_ the modern world, as distinct from the antique and the mediaeval. +It represents, by its advent, that epoch in human history wherein +each man must begin, in proportion to his capability of sympathy and +consideration, to collate his private thoughts, fortunes, interests with +those of the human race at large. We are now in the crude openings of +this epoch, fevered by its incidents and demands; and one of its tokens +is a general exhaustion of the nervous system and failure of health, +both here and in Europe,--those of most sensitive spirit, and least +retired and sheltered from the impressions of the time, suffering most. +All this will end, _must_ end, victoriously. In the mean time can we not +somewhat adjust ourselves to this new condition? + +One thing we can and must not fail to do: we can learn to understand and +appreciate Rest. In particular, we should build up and reinforce the +powers of the night to offset this new intensity of the day. Such, +indeed, as the day now is has it ever been, though in a less degree: +always it has cast upon men impressions significant, insignificant, and +of an ill significance, promiscuously and in excess; and always sleep +has been the filter of memory, the purifier of experience, providing a +season that follows closely upon the impressions of the day, ere yet +they are too deeply imbedded, in which our deeper life may pluck away +the adhering burrs from its garments, and arise disburdened, clean, and +free. I make no doubt that Death also performs, though in an ampler and +more thorough way, the same functions. It opposes the tyranny of memory. +For were our experience to go on forever accumulating, unwinnowed, +undiminished, every man would sooner or later break down beneath it; +every man would be crushed by his own traditions, becoming a grave to +himself, and drawing the clods over his own head. To relieve us of these +accidental accretions, to give us back to ourselves, is the use, +in part, of that sleep which rounds each day, and of that other +sleep--brief, but how deep!--which rounds each human life. + +Accordingly, he who sleeps well need not die so soon,--even as in the +order of Nature he will not. He has that other and rarer half of a good +memory, namely, a good forgetting. For none remembers so ill as he that +remembers all. "A great German scholar affirmed that he knew not what +it was to forget." Better have been born an idiot! An unwashed +memory,--faugh! To us moderns and Americans, therefore, who need +above all things to forget well,--our one imperative want being a +simplification of experience,--to us, more than to all other men, is +requisite, in large measure of benefit, the winnowing-fan of sleep, +sleep with its choices and exclusions, if we would not need the offices +of death too soon. + +But a function of yet greater depth and moment remains to be indicated. +Sleep enables the soul not only to shed away that which is foreign, +but to adopt and assimilate whatever is properly its own. Dr. Edward +Johnson, a man of considerable penetration, though not, perhaps, of a +balanced judgment, has a dictum to the effect that the formation of +blood goes on during our waking hours, but the composition of tissue +during those of sleep. I know not upon what grounds of evidence +this statement is made; but one persuades himself that it must be +approximately true of the body, since it is undoubtedly so of the soul. +Under the eye of the sun the fluid elements of character are supplied; +but the final edification takes place beneath the stars. Awake, we +think, feel, act; sleeping, we _become_. Day feeds our consciousness; +night, out of those stores which action has accumulated, nourishes the +vital unconsciousness, the pure unit of the man. During sleep, the valid +and serviceable experience of the day is drawn inward, wrought upon by +spiritual catalysis, transmitted into conviction, sentiment, character, +life, and made part of that which is to attract and assimilate all +subsequent experience. Who, accordingly, has not awaked to find some +problem already solved with which he had vainly grappled on the +preceding day? It is not merely that in the morning our invigorated +powers work more efficiently, and enable us to reach this solution +immediately _after_ awaking. Often, indeed, this occurs; but there are +also numerous instances--and such alone are in point--wherein the work +is complete _before_ one's awakening: not unfrequently it is by the +energy itself of the new perception that the soft bonds of slumber are +first broken; the soul hails its new dawn with so lusty a cheer, +that its clarion reaches even to the ear of the body, and we are +unconsciously murmuring the echoes of that joyous salute while yet the +iris-hued fragments of our dreams linger about us. The poet in the +morning, if true divine slumber have been vouchsafed him, finds his +mind enriched with sweeter imaginations, the thinker with profounder +principles and wider categories: neither begins the new day where +he left the old, but each during his rest has silently, wondrously, +advanced to fresh positions, commanding the world now from nobler +summits, and beholding around him an horizon beyond that over which +yesterday's sun rose and set. Milton gives us testimony very much in +point:-- + + "My celestial patroness, who deigns + Her nightly visitation unimplored, + And dictates to me slumb'ring." + +Thus, in one important sense, is day the servant of night, action the +minister of rest. I fancy, accordingly, that Marcus Antoninus may give +Heraclitus credit for less than his full meaning in saying that "men +asleep are then also laboring"; for he understands him to signify only +that through such the universe is still accomplishing its ends. Perhaps +he meant to indicate what has been here affirmed,--that in sleep one's +personal destiny is still ripening, his true life proceeding. + +But if, as the instance which has been under consideration suggests, +these two principles are of equal dignity, it will follow that the +ability to rest profoundly is of no less estimation than the ability to +work powerfully. Indeed, is it not often the condition upon which great +and sustained power of action depends? The medal must have two sides. +"Danton," says Carlyle, "was a great nature that could rest." Were not +the force and terror of his performance the obverse fact? I do not +now mean, however true it would be, to say that without rest physical +resources would fail, and action be enfeebled in consequence; I mean +that the soul which wants the attitude of repose wants the condition of +power. There is a petulant and meddlesome industry which proceeds from +spiritual debility, and causes more; it is like the sleeplessness and +tossing of exhausted nervous patients, which arises from weakness, and +aggravates its occasion. As few things are equally wearisome, so few are +equally wasteful, with a perpetual indistinct sputter of action, whereby +nothing is done and nothing let alone. Half the world _breaks_ out with +action; its performance is cutaneous, of the nature of tetter. Hence is +it that in the world, with such a noise of building, so few edifices are +reared. + +We require it as a pledge of the sanity of our condition, and consequent +wholesomeness of our action, that we can withhold our hand, and +leave the world in that of its Maker. No man is quite necessary to +Omnipotence; grass grew before we were born, and doubtless will continue +to grow when we are dead. If we act, let it be because our soul has +somewhat to bring forth, and not because our fingers itch. We have in +these days been emphatically instructed that all speech not rooted in +silence, rooted, that is, in pure, vital, silent Nature, is +poor and unworthy; but we should be aware that action equally +requires this solemn and celestial perspective, this issue out of the +never-trodden, noiseless realms of the soul. Only that which comes from +a divine depth can attain to a divine height. + +There is a courage of withholding and forbearing greater than any other +courage; and before this Fate itself succumbs. Wellington won the +Battle of Waterloo by heroically standing still; and every hour of that +adventurous waiting was heaping up significance for the moment when at +length he should cry, "Up, Guards, and at them !" What Cecil said of +Raleigh, "He can toil terribly," has been styled "an electric touch"; +but the "masterly inactivity" of Sir James Mackintosh, happily +appropriated by Mr. Calhoun, carries an equal appeal to intuitive sense, +and has already become proverbial. He is no sufficient hero who in the +delays of Destiny, when his way is hedged up and his hope deferred, +cannot reserve his strength and bide his time. The power of acting +greatly includes that of greatly abstaining from action. The leader of +an epoch in affairs should therefore be some Alfred, Bruce, Gustavus +Vasa, Cromwell, Washington, Garibaldi, who can wait while the iron of +opportunity heats at the forge of time; and then, in the moment of its +white glow, can so smite as to shape it forever to the uses of mankind. + +One should be able not only to wait, but to wait strenuously, sternly, +immovably, rooted in his repose like a mountain oak in the soil; for +it may easily happen that the necessity of refraining shall be most +imperative precisely when, the external pressure toward action is most +vehement. Amid the violent urgency of events, therefore, one should +learn the art of the mariner, who, in time of storm lies to, with sails +mostly furled, until milder gales permit him again to spread sail +and stretch away. With us, as with him, even a fair wind may blow so +fiercely that one cannot safely run before it. There are movements with +whose direction we sympathize, which are yet so ungoverned that we lose +our freedom and the use of our reason in committing ourselves to +them. So the seaman who runs too long before the increasing gale has +thereafter no election; go on he must, for there is death in pausing, +though it be also death to proceed. Learn, therefore, to wait. Is there +not many a one who never arrives at fruit, for no better reason than +that he persists in plucking his own blossoms? Learn to wait. Take time, +with the smith, to raise your arm, if you would deliver a telling blow. + +Does it seem wasteful, this waiting? Let us, then, remind ourselves that +excess and precipitation are more than wasteful,--they are directly +destructive. The fire that blazes beyond bounds not warms the house, +but burns it down, and only helps infinitesimally to warm the wide +out-of-doors. Any live snail will out-travel a wrecked locomotive, and +besides will leave no trail of slaughter on its track. Though despatch +be the soul of business, yet he who outruns his own feet comes to the +ground, and makes no despatch,--unless it be of himself. Hurry is the +spouse of Flurry, and the father of Confusion. Extremes meet, and +overaction steadfastly returns to the effect of non-action,--bringing, +however, the seven devils of disaster in its company. The ocean storm +which heaps the waves so high may, by a sufficient increase, blow them +down again; and in no calm is the sea so level as in the extremest +hurricane. + +Persistent excess of outward performance works mischief in one of two +directions,--either upon the body or on the soul. If one will not +accommodate himself to this unreasonable quantity by abatement of +quality,--if he be resolute to put love, faith, and imagination into +his labor, and to be alive to the very top of his brain,--then the body +enters a protest, and dyspepsia, palsy, phthisis, insanity, or somewhat +of the kind, ensues. Commonly, however, the tragedy is different from +this, and deeper. Commonly, in these cases, action loses height as it +gains lateral surface; the superior faculties starve, being robbed of +sustenance by this avarice of performance, and consequently of supply, +on the part of the lower,--they sit at second table, and eat of +remainder-crumbs. The delicate and divine sprites, that should bear the +behests of the soul to the will and to the houses of thought in the +brain her intuitions, are crowded out from the streets of the cerebral +cities by the mob and trample of messengers bound upon baser errands; +and thus is the soul deprived of service, and the man of inspiration. +The man becomes, accordingly, a great merchant who values a cent, but +does not value a human sentiment; or a lawyer who can convince a jury +that white is black, but cannot convince himself that white is white, +God God, and the sustaining faiths of great souls more than moonshine. +So if the apple-tree will make too much wood, it can bear no fruit; +during summer it is full of haughty thrift, but the autumn, which brings +grace to so many a dwarfed bush and low shrub, shows it naked and in +shame. + +How many mistake the crowing of the cock for the rising of the sun, +albeit the cock often crows at midnight, or at the moon's rising, or +only at the advent of a lantern and a tallow candle! And yet what +a bloated, gluttonous devourer of hopes and labors is this same +precipitation! All shores are strown with wrecks of barks that went too +soon to sea. And if you launch even your well-built ship at half-tide, +what will it do but strike bottom, and stick there? The perpetual +tragedy of literary history, in especial, is this. What numbers of young +men, gifted with great imitative quickness, who, having, by virtue of +this, arrived at fine words and figures of speech, set off on their +nimble rhetorical Pegasus, keep well out of the Muse's reach ever +after! How many go conspicuously through life, snapping their smart +percussion-caps upon empty barrels, because, forsooth, powder and ball +do not come of themselves, and it takes time to load! + +I know that there is a divine impatience, a rising of the waters of love +and noble pain till they _must_ overflow, with or without the hope of +immediate apparent use, and no matter what swords and revenges impend. +History records a few such defeats which are worth thousands of ordinary +victories. Yet the rule is, that precipitation comes of levity. +Eagerness is shallow. Haste is but half-earnest. If an apple is found +to grow mellow and seemingly ripe much before its fellows on the same +bough, you will probably discover, upon close inspection, that there is +a worm in it. + +To be sure, any time is too soon with those who dote upon Never. There +are such as find Nature precipitate and God forward. They would have +effect limp at untraversable distances behind cause; they would keep +destiny carefully abed and feed it upon spoon-victual. They play duenna +to the universe, and are perpetually on the _qui vive_, lest it escape, +despite their care, into improprieties. The year is with them too fast +by so much as it removes itself from the old almanac. The reason is that +_they_ are the old almanac. Or, more distinctly, they are at odds with +universal law, and, knowing that to them it can come only as judgment +and doom, they, not daring to denounce the law itself, fall to the trick +of denouncing its agents as visionaries, and its effects as premature. +The felon always finds the present an unseasonable day on which to be +hanged: the sheriff takes another view of the matter. + +But the error of these consists, not in realizing good purposes too +slowly and patiently, but in failing effectually to purpose good at +all. To those who truly are making it the business of their lives to +accomplish worthy aims, this counsel cannot come amiss,--TAKE TIME. +Take a year in which to thread a needle, rather than go dabbing at the +texture with the naked thread. And observe, that there is an excellence +and an efficacy of slowness, no less than of quickness. The armadillo +is equally secure of his prey with the hawk or leopard; and Sir Charles +Bell mentions a class of thieves in India, who, having, through +extreme patience and command of nerve, acquired the power of motion +imperceptibly slow, are the most formidable of all peculators, and +almost defy precaution. And to leave these low instances, slowness +produced by profoundness of feeling and fineness of perception +constitutes that divine patience of genius without which genius does not +exist. Mind lingers where appetite hurries on; it is only the Newtons +who stay to meditate over the fall of an apple, too trivial for the +attention of the clown. It is by this noble slowness that the highest +minds faintly emulate that inconceivable deliberateness and delicacy of +gradation with which solar systems are built and worlds habilitated. + +Now haste and intemperance are the Satans that beset virtuous Americans. +And these mischiefs are furthered by those who should guard others +against them. The Rev. Dr. John Todd, in a work, not destitute of merit, +entitled "The Student's Manual," urges those whom he addresses to study, +while about it, with their utmost might, crowding into an hour as much +work as it can possibly be made to contain; so, he says, they will +increase the power of the brain. But this is advice not fit to be given +to a horse, much less to candidates for the graces of scholarly manhood. +I read that race-horses, during the intervals between their public +contests, are permitted only occasionally and rarely to be driven at +their extreme speed, but are assiduously made to _walk_ several hours +each day. By this constancy of _moderate_ exercise they preserve health +and suppleness of limb, without exhaustion of strength. And it appears, +that, were such an animal never to be taken from the stable but to be +pushed to the top of his speed, he would be sure to make still greater +speed toward ruin. Why not be as wise for men as for horses? + +And here I desire to lay stress upon one point, which American students +will do well to consider gravely,--_It is a_ PURE, _not a strained and +excited, attention which has signal prosperity._ Distractions, tempests, +and head-winds in the brain, by-ends, the sidelong eyes of vanity, the +overleaping eyes of ambition, the bleared eyes of conceit,--these are +they which thwart study and bring it to nought. Nor these only, but all +impatience, all violent eagerness, all passionate and perturbed feeling, +fill the brain with thick and hot blood, suited to the service of +desire, unfit for the uses of thought. Intellect can be served only by +the finest properties of the blood; and if there be any indocility +of soul, any impurity of purpose, any coldness or carelessness, any +prurience or crude and intemperate heat, then base spirits are sent down +from the seat of the soul to summon the sanguineous forces; and these +gather a crew after their own kind. Purity of attention, then, is the +magic that the scholar may use; and let him know, that, the purer it is, +the more temperate, tranquil, reposeful. Truth is not to be run down +with fox-hounds; she is a divinity, and divinely must he draw nigh who +will gain her presence. Go to, thou bluster-brain! Dost thou think to +learn? Learn docility first, and the manners of the skies. And thou +egotist, thinkest thou that these eyes of thine, smoky with the fires of +diseased self-love, and thronged with deceiving wishes, shall perceive +the essential and eternal? They shall see only silver and gold, houses +and lands, reputes, supremacies, fames, and, as instrumental to these, +the forms of logic and seemings of knowledge. If thou wilt discern the +truth, desire IT, not its accidents and collateral effects. Rest in the +pursuit of it, putting _simplicity of quest_ in the place of either +force or wile; and such quest cannot be unfruitful. + +Let the student, then, shun an excited and spasmodic tension of brain, +and he will gain more while expending less. It is not toil, it is morbid +excitement, that kills; and morbid excitement in constant connection +with high mental endeavor is, of all modes and associations of +excitement, the most disastrous. Study as the grass grows, and your old +age--and its laurels--shall be green. + +Already, however, we are trenching upon that more intimate relationship +of the great opposites under consideration which has been designated +Rest _in_ Motion. More intimate relationship, I say,--at any rate, +more subtile, recondite, difficult of apprehension and exposition, and +perhaps, by reason of this, more central and suggestive. An example +of this in its physical aspect may be seen in the revolutions of the +planets, and in all orbital or circular motion. For such, it will be +at once perceived, is, in strictness of speech, _fixed and stationary_ +motion: it is, as Sir Isaac Newton demonstrated, an exact and equal +obedience, in the same moment, to the law of fixity and the law of +progression. Observe especially, that it is not, like merely retarded +motion, a partial neutralization of each principle by the other, an +imbecile Aristotelian compromise and half-way house between the two; +but it is at once, and in virtue of the same fact, perfect Rest _and_ +perfect Motion. A revolving body is not hindered, but the same impulse +which begot its movement causes this perpetually to return into itself. + +Now the principles that are seen to govern the material universe are +but a large-lettered display of those that rule in perfect humanity. +Whatsoever makes distinguished order and admirableness in Nature makes +the same in man; and never was there a fine deed that was not begot of +the same impulse and ruled by the same laws to which solar systems are +due. I desire, accordingly, here to take up and emphasize the statement +previously made in a general way,--that the secret of perfection in +all that appertains to man--in morals, manners, art, politics--must +be sought in such a correspondence and reciprocation of these great +opposites as the motions of the planets perfectly exemplify. + +It must not, indeed, be overlooked or unacknowledged, that the planets +do not move in exact circles, but diverge slightly into ellipses. The +fact is by no means without significance, and that of an important kind. +Pure circular motion is the type of perfection in the universe as +a _whole_, but each part of the whole will inevitably express its +partiality, will acknowledge its special character, and upon the +frankness of this confession its comeliness will in no small degree +depend; nevertheless, no sooner does the eccentricity, or individuality, +become so great as to suggest disloyalty to the idea of the whole, +than ugliness ensues. Thus, comets are portents, shaking the faith of +nations, not supporting it, like the stars. So among men. Nature is +at pains to secure divergence, magnetic variation, putting into every +personality and every powerful action some element of irregularity +and imperfection; and her reason for doing so is, that irregularity +appertains to the state of growth, and is the avenue of access to higher +planes and broader sympathies; still, as the planets, though not moving +in perfect circles, yet come faithfully round to the same places, and +accomplish _the ends_ of circular motion, so in man, the divergence must +be special, not total, no act being the mere arc of a circle, and yet +_revolution_ being maintained. And to the beauty of characters and +deeds, it is requisite that they should never seem even to imperil +fealty to the universal idea. Revolution perfectly exact expresses only +necessity, not voluntary fidelity; but departure, _still deferential to +the law of the whole_, in evincing freedom elevates its obedience +into fealty and noble faithfulness: by this measure of eccentricity, +centricity is not only emphasized, but immeasurably exalted. + +But having made this full and willing concession to the element of +individuality in persons and of special character in actions, we are at +liberty to resume the general thesis,--that orbital rest of movement +furnishes the type of perfect excellence, and suggests accordingly the +proper targe of aspiration and culture. + +In applying this law, we will take first a low instance, wherein the +opposite principles stand apart, rather upon terms of outward covenant, +or of mere mixture, than of mutual assimilation. _Man_ is infinite; +_men_ are finite: the purest aspect of great laws never appears in +collections and aggregations, yet the same laws rule here as in the +soul, and such excellence as is possible issues from the same sources. +As an instance, accordingly, of that ruder reciprocation which may +obtain among multitudes, I name the Roman Legion. + +It is said that the success of the armies of Rome is not fully accounted +for, until one takes into account the constitution of this military +body. It united, in an incomparable degree, the different advantages +of fixity and fluency. Moderate in size, yet large enough to give the +effect of mass, open in texture, yet compact in form, it afforded to +every man room for individual prowess, while it left no man to his +individual strength. Each soldier leaned and rested upon the Legion, +a body of six thousand men; yet around each was a space in which his +movements might be almost as free, rapid, and individual as though he +had possessed the entire field to himself. The Macedonian Phalanx was a +marvel of mass, but it was mass not penetrated with mobility; it could +move, indeed could be said to have an existence, only as a whole; +its decomposed parts were but _debris_. The Phalanx, therefore, was +terrible, the constituent parts of it imbecile; and the Battle of +Cynocephalae finally demonstrated its inferiority, for the various +possible exigencies of battle, to the conquering Legion. The brave +rabble of Gauls and Goths, on the other hand, illustrated all that +private valor, not reposing upon any vaster and more stable strength, +has power to achieve; but these rushing torrents of prowess dashed +themselves into vain spray upon the coordinated and reposing courage of +Rome. + +The same perpetual opposites must concur to produce the proper form and +uses of the State,--though they here appear in a much more elevated +form. Rest is here known as _Law_, motion as _Liberty_. In the true +commonwealth, these, so far from being mutually destructive or +antagonistic, incessantly beget and vivify each other; so that Law +is the expression and guaranty of Freedom, while Freedom flows +spontaneously into the forms of Justice. Neither of these can exist, +neither can be properly _conceived of_, apart from its correlative +opposite. Nor will any condition of mere truce, or of mere mechanical +equilibrium, suffice. Nothing suffices but a reciprocation so active and +total that each is constantly resolving itself into the other. + +The notion of Rousseau, which is countenanced by much of the +phraseology, to say the least, of the present day, was, indeed, quite +contrary to this. He assumed freedom to exist only where law is not, +that is, in the savage state, and to be surrendered, piece for piece, +with every acknowledgment of social obligation. Seldom was ever so +plausible a doctrine equally false. Law is properly _the public +definition of freedom and the affirmation of its sacredness and +inviolability as so defined_; and only in the presence of it, either +express or implicit, does man become free. Duty and privilege are one +and the same, however men may set up a false antagonism between them; +and accordingly social obligation can subtract nothing from the +privilege and prerogative of liberty. Consequently, the freedom which is +defined as the negation of social duty and obligation is not true regal +freedom, but is that worst and basest of all tyrannies, the tyranny of +pure egotism, masked in the semblance of its divine contrary. That, +be it observed, is the freest society, in which the noblest and most +delicate human powers find room and secure respect,--wherein the +loftiest and costliest spiritualities are most invited abroad by +sympathetic attraction. Now among savages little obtains appreciation, +save physical force and its immediate allies: the divine fledglings of +the human soul, instead of being sweetly drawn and tempted forth, are +savagely menaced, rudely repelled; whatsoever is finest in the man, +together with the entire nature of woman, lies, in that low temperature, +enchained and repressed, like seeds in a frozen soil. The harsh, +perpetual contest with want and lawless rivalry, to which all +uncivilized nations are doomed, permits only a few low powers, and those +much the same in all,--lichens, mosses, rude grasses, and other coarse +cryptogamous growths,--to develop themselves; since these alone can +endure the severities of season and treatment to which all that would +clothe the fields of the soul must remain exposed. Meanwhile the utmost +of that wicked and calamitous suppression of faculty, which constitutes +the essence and makes the tragedy of human slavery, is equally effected +by the inevitable isolation and wakeful trampling and consequent +barrenness of savage life. Liberty without law is not liberty; and the +converse may be asserted with like confidence. + +Where, then, the fixed term, State, or Law, and the progressive term, +Person, or Freewill, are in relations of reciprocal support and mutual +reproduction, there alone is freedom, there alone public order. We were +able to command this truth from the height of our general proposition, +and closer inspection shows those anticipations to have been correct. + +But man is greater than men; and for the finest aspect of high laws, we +must look to individual souls, not to masses. + +What is the secret of noble manners? Orbital action, always returning +into and compensating itself. The gentleman, in offering his respect to +others, offers an equal, or rather the same, respect to himself; and his +courtesies may flow without stint or jealous reckoning, because they +feed their source, being not an expenditure, but a circulation. +Submitting to the inward law of honor and the free sense of what befits +a man,--to a law perpetually made and spontaneously executed in his +own bosom, the instant flowering of his own soul,--he commands his own +obedience, and he obeys his own commanding. Though throned above all +nations, a king of kings, yet the faithful humble vassal of his own +heart; though he serve, yet regal, doing imperial service; he escapes +outward constraint by inward anticipation; and all that could he rightly +named as his duty to others, he has, ere demand, already discovered, and +engaged in, as part of his duty to himself. Now it is the expression of +royal freedom in loyal service, of sovereignty in obedience, courage in +concession, and strength in forbearance, which makes manners noble. Low +may he bow, not with loss, but with access of dignity, who bows with an +elevated and ascending heart: there is nothing loftier, nothing less +allied to abject behavior, than this grand lowliness. The worm, because +it is low, cannot be lowly; but man, uplifted in token of supremacy, may +kneel in adoration, bend in courtesy, and stoop in condescension. Only a +great pride, that is, a great and reverential repose in one's own being, +renders possible a noble humility, which is a great and reverential +acknowledgment of the being of others; this humility in turn sustains a +higher self-reverence; this again resolves itself into a more majestic +humility; and so run, in ever enhancing wave, the great circles of +inward honor and outward grace. And without this self-sustaining +return of the action into itself, each quality feeding itself from its +correlative opposite, there can be no high behavior. This is the reason +why qualities loftiest in kind and largest in measure are vulgarly +mistaken, not for their friendly opposites, but for their mere +contraries,--why a very profound sensibility, a sensibility, too, +peculiarly of the spirit, not of nerve only, is sure to be named +coldness, as Mr. Ruskin recently remarks,--why vast wealth of good +pride, in its often meek acceptance of wrong, in its quiet ignoring +of insult, in its silent superiority to provocation, passes with +the superficial and petulant for poverty of pride and mere +mean-spiritedness,--why a courage which is not partial, but _total_, +coexisting, as it always does, with a noble peacefulness, with a noble +inaptness for frivolous hazards, and a noble slowness to take offence, +is, in its delays and forbearances, thought by the half-courageous to +be no better than cowardice;--it is, as we have said, because great +qualities revolve and repose in orbits of reciprocation with their +opposites, which opposites are by coarse and ungentle eyes misdeemed to +be contraries. Feeling transcendently deep and powerful is unimpassioned +and far lower-voiced than indifference and unfeelingness, being wont +to express itself, not by eloquent ebullition, but by extreme +understatement, or even by total silence. Sir Walter Raleigh, when at +length he found himself betrayed to death--and how basely betrayed!--by +Sir Lewis Stukely, only said, "Sir Lewis, these actions will not turn to +your credit." The New Testament tells us of a betrayal yet more quietly +received. These are instances of noble manners. + +What actions are absolutely moral is determined by application of the +same law,--those only which repose wholly in themselves, being to +themselves at once motive and reward. "Miserable is he," says the +"Bhagavad Gita," "whose motive to action lies, not in the action itself, +but in its reward." Duty purchased with covenant of special delights is +not duty, but is the most pointed possible denial of it. The just man +looks not beyond justice; the merciful reposes in acts of mercy; and +he who would be bribed to equity and goodness is not only bad, but +shameless. But of this no further words. + +Rest is sacred, celestial, and the appreciation of it and longing for +it are mingled with the religious sentiment of all nations. I cannot +remember the time when there was not to me a certain ineffable +suggestion in the apostolic words, "There remaineth, therefore, a rest +for the people of God." But the repose of the godlike must, as that of +God himself, be _infinitely_ removed from mere sluggish inactivity; +since the conception of action is the conception of existence +itself,--that is, of Being in the act of self-manifestation. Celestial +rest is found in action so universal, so purely identical with the great +circulations of Nature, that, like the circulation of the blood and the +act of breathing, it is not a subtraction from vital resource, but is, +on the contrary, part of the very fact of life and all its felicities. +This does not exclude rhythmic or recreative rest; but the need of such +rest detracts nothing from pleasure or perfection. In heaven also, if +such figure of speech be allowable, may be that toil which shall render +grateful the cessation from toil, and give sweetness to sleep; but right +weariness has its own peculiar delight, no less than right exercise; +and as the glories of sunset equal those of dawn, so with equal, though +diverse pleasure, should noble and temperate labor take off its sandals +for evening repose, and put them on to go forth "beneath the opening +eyelids of the morn." Yet, allowing a place for this rhythm in the +detail and close inspection even of heavenly life, it still holds true +on the broad scale, that pure beauty and beatitude are found there only +where life and character sweep in orbits of that complete expression +which is at once divine labor and divine repose. + +Observe, now, that this rest-motion, as being without waste or loss, is +a _manifested immortality_, since that which wastes not ends not; and +therefore it puts into every motion the very character and suggestion of +immortal life. Yea, one deed rightly done, and the doer is in heaven, +--is of the company of immortals. One deed so done that in it is _no_ +mortality; and in that deed the meaning of man's history,--the meaning, +indeed, and the glory, of existence itself,--are declared. Easy, +therefore, it is to see how any action may be invested with universal +significance and the utmost conceivable charm. The smaller the realm and +the humbler the act into which this amplitude and universality of spirit +are carried, the more are they emphasized and set off; so that, without +opportunity of unusual occasion, or singular opulence of natural power, +a man's life may possess all that majesty which the imagination pictures +in archangels and in gods. Indeed, it is but simple statement of fact to +say, that he who rests _utterly_ in his action shall belittle not only +whatsoever history has recorded, but all which that poet of poets, +Mankind, has ever dreamed or fabled of grace and greatness. He shall +not peer about with curiosity to spy approbation, or with zeal to defy +censure; he shall not know if there be a spectator in the world; his +most public deed shall be done in a divine privacy, on which no eye +intrudes,--his most private in the boundless publicities of Nature; his +deed, when done, falls away from him, like autumn apples from their +boughs, no longer his, but the world's and destiny's; neither the +captive of yesterday nor the propitiator of to-morrow, he abides simply, +majestically, like a god, in being and doing. Meanwhile, blame and +praise whirl but as unrecognized cloudlets of gloom or glitter beneath +his feet, enveloping and often blinding those who utter them, but to him +never attaining. + +It is not easy at present to suggest the real measure and significance +of such manhood, because this age has debased its imagination, by the +double trick, first, of confounding man with his body, and next, of +considering the body, not as a symbol of truth, but only as an agent in +the domain of matter,--comparing its size with the sum total of physical +space, and its muscular power with the sum total of physical forces. Yet + + "What know we greater than the soul?" + +A man is no outlying province, nor does any province lie beyond him. +East, West, North, South, and height and depth are contained in his +bosom, the poles of his being reaching more widely, his zenith and nadir +being more sublime and more profound. We are cheated by nearness and +intimacy. Let us look at man with a telescope, and we shall find no star +or constellation of sweep so grand, no nebulae or star-dust so provoking +and suggestive to fancy. In truth, there are no words to say how either +large or small, how significant or insignificant, men may be. Though +solar and stellar systems amaze by their grandeur of scale, yet is true +manhood the maximum of Nature; though microscopic and sub-microscopic +protophyta amaze by their inconceivable littleness, yet is mock manhood +Nature's minimum. The latter is the only negative quantity known to +Nature; the former the only revelation of her entire heart. + +In concluding, need I say that only the pure can repose in his +action,--only he obtain deliverance by his deed, and after deliverance +from it? The egotism, the baseness, the partialities that are in our +performance are hooks and barbs by which it wounds and wearies us in the +passage, and clings to us being past. + +Law governs all; no favor is shown; the event is as it must be; only he +who has no blinding partiality toward himself, who is whole and one with +the whole, he who is Nature and Law and divine Necessity, can be blest +with that blessedness which Nature is able to give only by her presence. +There is a labor and a rest that are the same, one fact, one felicity; +in this are power, beauty, immortality; by existence as a whole it is +always perfectly exemplified; to man, as the eye of existence, it is +also possible; but it is possible to him only as he is purely man,--only +as he abandons himself to the divine principles of his life: in other +words, this Sabbath remaineth in very deed to no other than the people +of God. + + * * * * * + + +LIGHTS OF THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT. + + +At the opening of the present century, the Lake District of Cumberland +and Westmoreland was groaned over by some residents as fast losing its +simplicity. The poet Gray had been the first to describe its natural +features in an express manner; and his account of the views above +Keswick and Grasmere was quoted, sixty years since, as evidence of +the spoiling process which had gone on since the introduction of +civilization from the South. Gray remarked on the absence of red roofs, +gentlemen's houses, and garden-walls, and on the uniform character of +the humble farmsteads and gray cottages under their sycamores in the +vales. Wordsworth heard and spoke a good deal of the innovations which +had modified the scene in the course of the thirty years which elapsed +between Gray's visits (in 1767-69) and his own settlement in the Lake +District; but he lived to say more, at the end of half a century, of the +wider and deeper changes which time had wrought in the aspect of the +country and the minds and manners of the people. According to his +testimony, and that of Southey, the barbarism was of a somewhat gross +character at the end of the last century; the magistrates were careless +of the condition of the society in which they bore authority; the clergy +were idle or worse,--"marrying and burying machines," as Southey told +Wilberforce; and the morality of the people, such as it was, was +ascribed by Wordsworth, in those his days of liberalism in politics, to +the state of republican equality in which they lived. Excellent, fussy +Mr. Wilberforce thought, when he came for some weeks into the District, +that the Devil had had quite time enough for sowing tares while the +clergy were asleep; so he set to work to sow a better seed; and we find +in his diary that he went into house after house "to talk religion to +the people." I do not know how he was received; but at this day the +people are puzzled at that kind of domestic intervention, so unsuitable +to their old-fashioned manners,--one old dame telling with wonder, some +little time since, that a young lady had called and sung a hymn to +her, but had given her nothing at the end for listening. The rough +independence of the popular manners even now offends persons of a +conventional habit of mind; and when poets and philosophers first came +from southern parts to live here, the democratic tone of feeling and +behavior was more striking than it is now or will ever be again. + +Before the Lake poets began to give the public an interest in the +District, some glimpses of it were opened by the well-known literary +ladies of the last century who grouped themselves round their young +favorite, Elizabeth Smith. I do not know whether her name and fame have +reached America; but in my young days she was the English school-girls' +subject of admiration and emulation. She had marvellous powers of +acquisition, and she translated the Book of Job, and a good deal from +the German,--introducing Klopstock to us at a time when we hardly knew +the most conspicuous names in German literature. Elizabeth Smith was an +accomplished girl in all ways. There is a damp, musty-looking house, +with small windows and low ceilings, at Coniston, where she lived with +her parents and sister, for some years before her death. We know, from +Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton's and the Bowdlers' letters, how Elizabeth and +her sister lived in the beauty about them, rambling, sketching, and +rowing their guests on the lake. In one of her rambles, Elizabeth sat +too long under a heavy dew. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, which +never left her, and died in rapid decline. Towards the last she was +carried out daily from the close and narrow rooms at home, and laid in a +tent pitched in a field just across the road, whence she could overlook +the lake, and the range of mountains about its head. On that spot now +stands Tent Lodge, the residence of Tennyson and his bride after their +marriage. One of my neighbors, who first saw the Lake District in early +childhood, has a solemn remembrance of the first impression. The tolling +of the bell of Hawkeshead church was heard from afar; and it was tolling +for the funeral of Elizabeth Smith. Her portrait is before me now,--the +ingenuous, child-like face, with the large dark eyes which alone show +that it is not the portrait of a child. It was through her that a large +proportion of the last generation of readers first had any definite +associations with Coniston. + +Wordsworth had, however, been in that church many a time, above twenty +years before, when at Hawkeshead school. He used to tell that his mother +had praised him for going into the church, one week-day, to see a woman +do penance in a white sheet. She considered it good for his morals. But +when he declared himself disappointed that nobody had given him a penny +for his attendance, as he had somehow expected, his mother told him he +was served right for going to church from such an inducement. He spoke +with gratitude of an usher at that school, who put him in the way +of learning the Latin, which had been a sore trouble at his native +Cockermouth, from unskilful teaching. Our interest in him at that +school, however, is from his having there first conceived the idea of +writing verse. His master set the boys, as a task, to write a poetical +theme,--"The Summer Vacation"; and Master William chose to add to it +"The Return to School." He was then fourteen; and he was to be double +that age before he returned to the District and took up his abode there. + +He had meantime gone through his college course, as described in his +Memoirs, and undergone strange conditions of opinion and feeling in +Paris during the Revolution; had lived in Dorsetshire, with his faithful +sister; had there first seen Coleridge, and had been so impressed by the +mind and discourse of that wonderful young philosopher as to remove to +Somersetshire to be near him; had seen Klopstock in Germany, and lived +there for a time; and had passed through other changes of residence and +places, when we find him again among the Lakes in 1779, still with his +sister by his side, and their brother John, and Coleridge, who had never +been in the District before. + +As they stood on the margin of Grasmere, the scene was more like what +Gray saw than what is seen at this day. The churchyard was bare of the +yews which now distinguish it,--for Sir George Beaumont had them planted +at a later time; and where the group of kindred and friends--the +Wordsworths and their relatives--now lie, the turf was level and +untouched. The iron rails and indefensible monuments, which Wordsworth +so reprobated half a century later, did not exist. The villas which stud +the slopes, the great inns which bring a great public, were uncreated; +and there was only the old Roman road where the Wishing-Gate is, or the +short cut by the quarries to arrive by from the South, instead of the +fine mail-road which now winds between the hills and the margin of +the lake. John Wordsworth guided his brother and Coleridge through +Grisedale, over a spur of Helvellyn, to see Ullswater; and Coleridge has +left a characteristic testimony of the effect of the scenery upon him. +It was "a day when light and darkness coexisted in contiguous masses, +and the earth and sky were but one. Nature lived for us in all her +wildest accidents." He tells how his eyes were dim with tears, and +how imagination and reality blended their objects and impressions. +Wordsworth's account of the same excursion is in as admirable contrast +with Coleridge's as their whole mode of life and expression was, from +first to last. With the carelessness of the popular mind in such cases, +the British public had already almost confounded the two men and their +works, as it soon after mixed up Southey with both; whereas they were +all as unlike each other as any three poets could well be. + +Coleridge and Wordsworth were both contemplative, it is true, while +Southey was not: but the remarkable thing about Coleridge was the +exclusiveness of his contemplative tendencies, by which one set of +faculties ran riot in his mind and life, making havoc among his powers, +and a dismal wreck of his existence. The charm and marvel of his +discourse upset all judgments during his life, and for as long as his +voice remained in the ear of his enchanted hearers; but, apart from the +spell, it is clear to all sober and trained thinkers that Coleridge +wandered away from truth and reality in the midst of his vaticinations, +as the _clairvoyant_ does in the midst of his previsions, so as to +mislead and bewilder, while inspiring and intoxicating the hearer or +reader. He recorded, in regard to himself, that "history and particular +facts lost all interest" in his mind after his first launch into +metaphysics; and he remained through life incapable of discerning +reality from inborn images. Wordsworth took alarm at the first +experience of such a tendency in himself, and relates that he used to +catch at the trees and palings by the roadside to satisfy himself of +existences out of himself; but Coleridge encouraged this subjective +exclusiveness, to the destruction of the balance of his mind and the +_morale_ of his nature. He was himself a wild poem; and he discoursed +wild poems to us,--musical romances from Dreamland; but the luxury to +himself and us was bought by injury to others which was altogether +irreparable, and pardonable only on the ground that the balance of his +mind was destroyed by a fatal intellectual, in addition to physical +intemperance. In him we see an extreme case of a life of contemplation +uncontrolled by will and unchecked by action. His faculty of will +perished, and his prerogative of action died out. His contemplations +must necessarily be worth just so much the less to us as his mental +structure was deformed,--extravagantly developed in one direction, and +dwarfed in another. + +The singularity in Wordsworth's case, on the other hand, is that his +contemplative tendencies not only coexisted with, but were implicated +with, the most precise and vivid apprehension of small realities. There +was no proportion in his mind; and vaticination and twaddle rolled +off his eloquent tongue as chance would have it. At one time he would +discourse like a seer, on the slightest instigation, by the hour +together; and next, he would hold forth with equal solemnity, on the +pettiest matter of domestic economy. I have known him take up some +casual notice of a "beck" (brook) in the neighborhood, and discourse +of brooks for two hours, till his hearers felt as if they were by the +rivers of waters in heaven; and next, he would talk on and on, till +stopped by some accident, on his doubt whether Mrs. Wordsworth gave a +penny apiece or a half-penny apiece for trapped mice to a little girl +who had undertaken to clear the house of them. It has been common to +regret that he held the office of Stamp-Distributor in the District; but +it was probably a great benefit to his mind as well as his fortunes. It +was something that it gave him security and ease as to the maintenance +of his family; but that is less important than its necessitating a +certain amount of absence from home, and intercourse with men on +business. He was no reader in mature life; and the concentration of his +mind on his own views, and his own genius, and the interests of his home +and neighborhood, caused some foibles, as it was; and it might have been +almost fatal, but for some office which allowed him to gratify his love +of out-door life at the same time that it led him into intercourse +with men in another capacity than as listeners to himself, or peasants +engrossed in their own small concerns. + +Southey was not contemplative or speculative, and it could only have +been because he lived at the Lakes and was Coleridge's brother-in-law +that he was implicated with the two speculative poets at all. It has +been carelessly reported by Lake tourists that Southey was not beloved +among his neighbors, while Wordsworth was; and that therefore the latter +was the better man, in a social sense. It should be remembered that +Southey was a working man, and that the other two were not; and, +moreover, it should never be for a moment forgotten that Southey worked +double-tides to make up for Coleridge's idleness. While Coleridge was +dreaming and discoursing, Southey was toiling to maintain Coleridge's +wife and children. He had no time and no attention to spare for +wandering about and making himself at home with the neighbors. This +practice came naturally to Wordsworth; and a kind and valued neighbor he +was to all the peasants round. Many a time I have seen him in the road, +in Scotch bonnet and green spectacles, with a dozen children at his +heels and holding his cloak, while he cut ash-sticks for them from the +hedge, hearing all they had to say or talking to them. Southey, on the +other hand, took his constitutional walk at a fixed hour, often reading +as he went. Two families depended on him; and his duty of daily labor +was not only distinctive, but exclusive. He was always at work at home, +while Coleridge was doing nothing but talking, and Wordsworth was +abroad, without thinking whether he was at work or play. Seen from the +stand-point of conscience and of moral generosity, Southey's was the +noblest life of the three; and Coleridge's was, of course, nought. +I own, however, that, considering the tendency of the time to make +literature a trade, or at least a profession, I cannot help feeling +Wordsworth's to have been the most privileged life of them all. He had +not work enough to do; and his mode of life encouraged an excess of +egoism: but he bore all the necessary retribution of this in his latter +years; and the whole career leaves an impression of an airy freedom and +a natural course of contemplation, combined with social interest and +action, more healthy than the existence of either the delinquent or the +exemplary comrade with whom he was associated in the public view. + +I have left my neighbors waiting long on the margin of Grasmere. That +was before I was born; but I could almost fancy I had seen them there. + +I observed that Wordsworth's report of their trip was very unlike +Coleridge's. When his sister had left them, he wrote to her, describing +scenes by brief precise touches which draw the picture that Coleridge +blurs with grand phrases. Moreover, Wordsworth tells sister Dorothy that +John will give him forty pounds to buy a bit of land by the lake, where +they may build a cottage to live in henceforth. He says, also, that +there is a small house vacant near the spot.--They took that house; +and thus the Wordsworths became "Lakers." They entered that well-known +cottage at Grasmere on the shortest day (St. Thomas's) of 1799. Many +years afterwards, Dorothy wrote of the aspect of Grasmere on her arrival +that winter evening,--the pale orange lights on the lake, and the +reflection of the mountains and the island in the still waters. She +had wandered about the world in an unsettled way; and now she had cast +anchor for life,--not in that house, but within view of that valley. + +All readers of Wordsworth, on either side the Atlantic, believe +that they know that cottage, (described in the fifth book of the +"Excursion,") with its little orchard, and the moss house, and the +tiny terrace behind, with its fine view of the lake and the basin of +mountains. There the brother and sister lived for some years in a very +humble way, making their feast of the beauty about them. Wordsworth was +fond of telling how they had meat only two or three times a week; and he +was eager to impress on new-comers--on me among others--the prudence of +warning visitors that they must make up their minds to the scantiest +fare. He was as emphatic about this, laying his finger on one's arm to +enforce it, as about catching mice or educating the people. It was vain +to say that one would rather not invite guests than fail to provide for +them; he insisted that the expense would be awful, and assumed that his +sister's and his own example settled the matter. I suppose they were +poor in those days; but it was not for long. A devoted sister Dorothy +was. Too late it appeared that she had sacrificed herself to aid and +indulge her brother. When her mind was gone, and she was dying by +inches, Mrs. Wordsworth offered me the serious warning that she gave +whenever occasion allowed, against overwalking. She told me that Dorothy +had, not occasionally only, but often, walked forty miles in a day to +give her brother her presence. To repair the ravages thus caused she +took opium; and the effect on her exhausted frame was to overthrow her +mind. This was when she was elderly. For a long course of years, she +was a rich household blessing to all connected with her. She shared her +brother's peculiarity of investing trifles with solemnity, or rather, +of treating all occasions alike (at least in writing) with pedantic +elaboration; but she had the true poet's, combined with the true woman's +nature; and the fortunate man had, in wife and sister, the two best +friends of his life. + +The Wordsworths were the originals of the Lake _coterie,_ as we have +seen. Born at Cockermouth, and a pupil at the Hawkeshead school, +Wordsworth was looking homewards when he settled in the District. The +others came in consequence. Coleridge brought his family to Greta Hall, +near Keswick; and with them came Mrs. Lovell, one of the three Misses +Fricker, of whom Coleridge and Southey had married two. Southey was +invited to visit Greta Hall, the year after the Wordsworths settled at +Grasmere; and thus they became acquainted. They had just met before, in +the South; but they had yet to learn to know each other; and there was +sufficient unlikeness between them to render this a work of some time +and pains. It was not long before Southey, instead of Coleridge, was +the lessee of Greta Hall; and soon after Coleridge took his departure, +leaving his wife and children, and also the Lovells, a charge upon +Southey, who had no more fortune than Coleridge, except in the +inexhaustible wealth of a heart, a will, and a conscience. Wordsworth +married in 1802; and then the two poets passed through their share of +the experience of human life, a few miles apart, meeting occasionally on +some mountain ridge or hidden dale, and in one another's houses, drawn +closer by their common joys and sorrows, but never approximating in +the quality of their genius, or in the stand-points from which they +respectively looked out upon human affairs. They had children, loved +them, and each lost some of them; and they felt tenderly for each other +when each little grave was opened. Southey, the most amiable of men in +domestic life, gentle, generous, serene, and playful, grew absolutely +ferocious about politics, as his articles in the "Quarterly Review" +showed all the world. Wordsworth, who had some of the irritability and +pettishness, mildly described by himself as "gentle stirrings of the +mind," which occasionally render great men ludicrously like children, +and who was, moreover, highly conservative after his early democratic +fever had passed off, grew more and more liberal with advancing years. +I do not mean that he verged towards the Reformers,--but that he became +more enlarged, tolerant, and generally sympathetic in his political +views and temper. It thus happened that society at a distance took up +a wholly wrong impression of the two men,--supposing Southey to be an +ill-conditioned bigot, and Wordsworth a serene philosopher, far above +being disturbed by troubles in daily life, or paying any attention to +party-politics. He showed some of his ever-growing liberality, by the +way, in speaking of this matter of temper. In old age, he said that the +world certainly does get on in minor morals: that when he was young +"everybody had a temper"; whereas now no such thing is allowed; +amiability is the rule; and an imperfect temper is an offence and a +misfortune of a distinctive character. + +Among the letters which now and then arrived from strangers, in the +early days of Wordsworth's fame, was one which might have come from +Coleridge, if they had never met. It was full of admiration and +sympathy, expressed as such feelings would be by a man whose analytical +and speculative faculties predominated over all the rest. The writer +was, indeed, in those days, marvellously like Coleridge,--subtile in +analysis to excess, of gorgeous imagination, bewitching discourse, fine +scholarship, with a magnificent power of promising and utter incapacity +in performing, and with the same habit of intemperance in opium. By +his own account, his "disease was to meditate too much and observe too +little." I need hardly explain that this was De Quincey; and when I have +said that, I need hardly explain further that advancing time and closer +acquaintance made the likeness to Coleridge bear a smaller and smaller +proportion to the whole character of the man. + +In return for his letter of admiration and sympathy, he received an +invitation to the Grasmere valley. More than once he set forth to avail +himself of it; but when within a few miles, the shyness under which in +those days he suffered overpowered his purpose, and he turned back. +After having achieved the meeting, however, he soon announced his +intention of settling in the valley; and he did so, putting his wife +and children eventually into the cottage which the Wordsworths had now +outgrown and left. There was little in him to interest or attach a +family of regular domestic habits, like the Wordsworths, given to active +employment, sensible thrift, and neighborly sympathy. It was universally +known that a great poem of Wordsworth's was reserved for posthumous +publication, and kept under lock and key meantime. De Quincey had so +remarkable a memory that he carried off by means of it the finest +passage of the poem,--or that which the author considered so; and +he published that passage in a magazine article, in which he gave +a detailed account of the Wordsworths' household, connections, and +friends, with an analysis of their characters and an exhibition of their +faults. This was in 1838, a dozen years before the poet's death. The +point of interest is,--How did the wronged family endure the wrong? They +were quiet about it,--that is, sensible and dignified; but Wordsworth +was more. A friend of his and mine was talking with him over the fire, +just when De Quincey's disclosures were making the most noise, and +mentioned the subject. Wordsworth begged to be spared hearing anything +about them, saying that the man had long passed away from the family +life and mind, and he did not wish to disturb himself about what could +not be remedied. My friend acquiesced, saying, "Well, I will tell you +only one thing that he says, and then we will talk of something else. He +says your wife is too good for you." The old man's dim eyes lighted up +instantly, and he started from his seat, and flung himself against +the mantel-piece, with his back to the fire, as he cried with loud +enthusiasm, "And that's _true! There_ he is right!" + +It was by his written disclosures only that De Quincey could do much +mischief; for it was scarcely possible to be prejudiced by anything he +could say. The whole man was grotesque; and it must have been a singular +image that his neighbors in the valley preserved in their memory. A +frail-looking, diminutive man, with narrow chest and round shoulders and +features like those of a dying patient, walking with his hands behind +him, his hat on the back of his head, and his broad lower lip projected, +as if he had something on his tongue that wanted listening to,--such was +his aspect; and if one joined company with him, the strangeness grew +from moment to moment. His voice and its modulations were a perfect +treat. As for what he had to say, it was everything from odd comment on +a passing trifle, eloquent enunciation of some truth, or pregnant +remark on some lofty subject, down to petty gossip, so delivered as to +authorize a doubt whether it might not possibly be an awkward effort +at observing something outside of himself, or at getting a grasp of +something that he supposed actual. That he should have so supposed was +his weakness, and the retribution for the peculiar intemperance which +depraved his nature and alienated from their proper use powers which +should have made him one of the first philosophers of his age. His +singular organization was fatally deranged in its action before it could +show its best quality, and his is one of the cases in which we cannot be +wrong in attributing moral disease directly to physical disturbance; and +it would no doubt have been dropped out of notice, if he had been able +to abstain from comment on the characters and lives of other people. +Justice to them compels us to accept and use the exposures he offers us +of himself. + +About the time of De Quincey's settlement at Grasmere, Wilson, the +future CHRISTOPHER NORTH, bought the Elleray estate, on the banks of +Windermere. He was then just of age,--supreme in all manly sports, +physically a model man, and intellectually, brimming with philosophy and +poetry. He came hither a rather spoiled child of fortune, perhaps; but +he was soon sobered by a loss of property which sent him to his studies +for the bar. Scott was an excellent friend to him at that time; and so +strong and prophetic was Wilson's admiration of his patron, that he +publicly gave him the name of "The Great Magician" before the first +"Waverley Novel" was published. Within ten years from his getting a +foothold on Windermere banks, he had raised periodical literature to a +height unknown before in our time, by his contributions to "Blackwood's +Magazine"; and he seemed to step naturally into the Moral Philosophy +Chair in Edinburgh in 1820. Christopher North has perhaps conveyed to +foreign, and untravelled English, readers as true a conception of our +Lake scenery and its influences in one way as Wordsworth in another. +The very spirit of the moorland, lake, brook, tarn, ghyll, and ridge +breathes from his prose poetry: and well it might. He wandered alone for +a week together beside the trout-streams and among the highest tarns. He +spent whole days in his boat, coasting the bays of the lake, or floating +in the centre, or lying reading in the shade of the trees on the +islands. He led with a glorious pride the famous regatta on Windermere, +when Canning was the guest of the Boltons at Storrs, and when Scott, +Wordsworth, and Southey were of the company; and he liked almost as well +steering the packet-boat from Waterhead to Bowness, till the steamer +drove out the old-fashioned conveyance. He sat at the stern, +immovable, with his hand on the rudder, looking beyond the company of +journeymen-carpenters, fish- and butter-women, and tourists, with a +gaze on the water-and-sky-line which never shifted. Sometimes a learned +professor or a brother sportsman was with him; but he spoke no word, and +kept his mouth peremptorily shut under his beard. It was a sight worth +taking the voyage for; and it was worth going a long round to see him +standing on the shore,--"reminding one of the first man, Adam," (as was +said of him,) in his best estate,--the tall, broad frame, large head, +marked features, and long hair; and the tread which shook the ground, +and the voice which roused the echoes afar and made one's heart-strings +vibrate within. These attributes made strangers turn to look at him on +the road, and fixed all eyes on him in the ball-room at Ambleside, when +any local object induced him to be a steward. Every old boatman and +young angler, every hoary shepherd and primitive housewife in the +uplands and dales, had an enthusiasm for him. He could enter into the +solemnity of speculation with Wordsworth while floating at sunset on the +lake; and not the less gamesomely could he collect a set of good fellows +under the lamp at his supper-table, and take off Wordsworth's or +Coleridge's monologues to the life. There was that between them which +must always have precluded a close sympathy; and their faults were just +what each could least allow for in another. Of Wilson's it is enough to +say that Scott's injunction to him to "leave off sack, purge, and live +cleanly," if he wished for the Moral Philosophy Chair, was precisely +what was needed. It was still needed some time after, when, though a +Professor of Moral Philosophy, he was seen, with poor Campbell, leaving +a tavern one morning, in Edinburgh, haggard and red-eyed, hoarse and +exhausted,--not only the feeble Campbell, but the mighty Wilson,--they +having sat together twenty-four hours, discussing poetry and wine with +all their united energies. This sort of thing was not to the taste of +Wordsworth or Southey, any more than their special complacencies were +venerable to the humor of Christopher North. Yet they could cordially +admire one another; and when sorrows came over them, in dreary +impartiality, they could feel reverently and deeply for each other. When +Southey lost his idolized boy, Herbert, and had to watch over his insane +wife, always his dearest friend, and all the dearer for her helpless +and patient suffering under an impenetrable gloom,--when Wordsworth was +bereaved of the daughter who made the brightness of his life in his old +age,--and when Wilson was shaken to the centre by the loss of his wife, +and mourned alone in the damp shades of Elleray, where he would allow +not a twig to be cut from the trees she loved,--the sorrow of each moved +them all. Elleray was a gloomy place then, and Wilson never surmounted +the melancholy which beset him there; and he wisely parted with it +some years before his death. The later depression in his case was in +proportion to the earlier exhilaration. His love of Nature and of genial +human intercourse had been too exuberant; and he became incapable of +enjoyment from either, in his last years. He never recovered from an +attack of pressure on the brain, and died paralyzed in the spring of +1854. He had before gone from among us with his joy; and then we heard +that he had dropped out of life with his griefs; and our beautiful +region, and the region of life, were so much the darker in a thousand +eyes. + +While speaking of Elleray, we should pay a passing tribute of gratitude +to an older worthy of that neighborhood,--the well-known Bishop of +Llandaff, Richard Watson, who did more for the beauty of Windermere than +any other person. There is nothing to praise in the damp old mansion +at Calgarth, set down in low ground, and actually with its back to the +lake, and its front windows commanding no view; but the woods are the +glory of Bishop Watson. He was not a happy prelate, believing himself +undervalued and neglected, and fretting his heart over his want of +promotion; but be must have had many a blessed hour while planting +those woods for which many generations will be grateful to him. Let +the traveller remember him, when looking abroad from Miller Brow, near +Bowness. Below lies the whole length of Windermere, from the white +houses of Clappersgate, nestling under Loughrigg at the head, to the +Beacon at the foot. The whole range of both shores, with their bays +and coves and promontories, can be traced; and the green islands are +clustered in the centre; and the whole gradation of edifices is seen, +from Wray Castle, on its rising ground, to the tiny boat-houses, each +on its creek. All these features are enhanced in beauty by the Calgarth +woods, which cover the undulations of hill and margin beneath and +around, rising and falling, spreading and contracting, with green +meadows interposed, down to the white pebbly strand. To my eye, this +view is unsurpassed by any in the District. + +Bishop Watson's two daughters were living in the neighborhood till two +years ago,--antique spinsters, presenting us with a most vivid specimen +of the literary female life of the last century. They were excellent +women, differing from the rest of society chiefly in their notion that +superior people should show their superiority in all the acts of their +lives,--that literary people should talk literature, and scientific +people science, and so on; and they felt affronted, as if set down among +common people, when an author talked about common things in a common +way. They did their best to treat their friends to wit and polite +letters; and they expected to be ministered to in the same fashion. This +was rather embarrassing to visitors to whom it had never occurred to +talk for any other purpose than to say what presented itself at the +moment; but it is a privilege to have known those faithful sisters, and +to have seen in them a good specimen of the literary society of the last +century. + +There is another spot in that neighborhood which strangers look up to +with interest from the lake itself,--Dovenest, the abode of Mrs. Hemans +for the short time of her residence at the Lakes. She saw it for the +first time from the lake, as her published correspondence tells, and +fell in love with it; and as it was vacant at the time, she went into it +at once. Many of my readers will remember her description of the garden +and the view from it, the terrace, the circular grass-plot with its one +tall white rose-tree. "You cannot imagine," she wrote, in 1830, "how I +delight in that fair, solitary, neglected-looking tree." The tree is not +neglected now. Dovenest is inhabited by Mrs. Hemans's then young friend, +the Rev. R.P. Graves; and it has recovered from the wildness and +desolation of thirty years ago, while looking as secluded as ever among +the woods on the side of Wansfell. + +All this time, illustrious strangers were coming, year by year, to visit +residents, or to live among the mountains for a few weeks. There was +Wilberforce, spending part of a summer at Rayrigg, on the lake shore. +One of his boys asked him, "Why should you not buy a house here? and +then we could come every year." The reply was characteristic:--that it +would be very delightful; but that the world is lying, in a manner, +under the curse of God; that we have something else to do than to enjoy +fine prospects; and that, though it may be allowable to taste the +pleasure now and then, we ought to wait till the other life to enjoy +ourselves. Such was the strait-lacing in which the good man was forever +trying to compress his genial, buoyant, and grateful nature.--Scott came +again and again; and Wordsworth and Southey met to do him honor. The +tourist must remember the Swan Inn,--the white house beyond Grasmere, +under the skirts of Helvellyn. There Scott went daily for a glass of +something good, while Wordsworth's guest, and treated with the homely +fare of the Grasmere cottage. One morning, his host, himself, and +Southey went up to the Swan, to start thence with ponies for the ascent +of Helvellyn. The innkeeper saw them coming, and accosted Scott with +"Eh, Sir! ye're come early for your draught to-day!"--a disclosure which +was not likely to embarrass his host at all. Wordsworth was probably the +least-discomposed member of the party.--Charles Lamb and his sister once +popped in unannounced on Coleridge at Keswick, and spent three weeks in +the neighborhood. We can all fancy the little man on the top of Skiddaw, +with his mind full as usual of quips and pranks, and struggling with the +emotions of mountain-land, so new and strange to a Cockney, such as he +truly described himself. His loving readers do not forget his statement +of the comparative charms of Skiddaw and Fleet Street; and on the spot +we quote his exclamations about the peak, and the keen air there, and +the look over into Scotland, and down upon a sea of mountains which made +him giddy. We are glad he came and enjoyed a day, which, as he said, +would stand out like a mountain in his life; but we feel that he could +never have followed his friends hither,--Coleridge and Wordsworth,--and +have made himself at home. The warmth of a city and the hum of human +voices all day long were necessary to his spirits. As to his passage at +arms with Southey,--everybody's sympathies are with Lamb; and he +only vexes us by his humility and gratitude at being pardoned by the +aggressor, whom he had in fact humiliated in all eyes but his own. It +was one of Southey's spurts of insolent bigotry; and Lamb's plea for +tolerance and fair play was so sound as to make it a poor affectation in +Southey to assume a pardoning air; but, if Lamb's kindly and sensitive +nature could not sustain him in so virtuous an opposition, it is well +that the two men did not meet on the top of Skiddaw.--Canning's visit to +Storrs, on Windermere, was a great event in its day; and Lockhart tells +us, in his "Life of Scott," what the regatta was like, when Wilson +played Admiral, and the group of local poets, and Scott, were in the +train of the statesman. Since that day, it has been a common thing for +illustrious persons to appear in our valleys. Statesmen, churchmen, +university-men, princes, peers, bishops, authors, artists, flock hither; +and during the latter years of Wordsworth's life, the average number +of strangers who called at Rydal Mount in the course of the season was +eight hundred. + +During the growth of the District from its wildness to this thronged +state, a minor light of the region was kindling, flickering, failing, +gleaming, and at last going out,--anxiously watched and tended, but to +little purpose. The life of Hartley Coleridge has been published by his +family; and there can, therefore, be no scruple in speaking of him here. +The remembrance of him haunts us all,--almost as his ghost haunts his +kind landlady. Long after his death, she used to "hear him at night +laughing in his room," as he used to do when he lived there. A peculiar +laugh it was, which broke out when fancies crossed him, whether he was +alone or in company. Travellers used to look after him on the road, and +guides and drivers were always willing to tell about him; and still +his old friends almost expect to see Hartley at any turn,--the little +figure, with the round face, marked by the blackest eyebrows and +eyelashes, and by a smile and expression of great eccentricity. As we +passed, he would make a full stop in the road, face about, take off his +black-and-white straw hat, and bow down to the ground. The first glance +in return was always to see whether he was sober. The Hutchinsons must +remember him. He was one of the audience, when they held their concert +under the sycamores in Mr. Harrison's grounds at Ambleside; and he +thereupon wrote a sonnet,[A] doubtless well known in America. When I +wanted his leave to publish that sonnet, in an account of "Frolics with +the Hutchinsons," it was necessary to hunt him up, from public-house +to public-house, early in the morning. It is because these things are +universally known,--because he was seen staggering in the road, and +spoken of by drivers and lax artisans as an alehouse comrade, that I +speak of him here, in order that I may testify how he was beloved and +cherished by the best people in his neighborhood. I can hardly speak +of him myself as a personal acquaintance; for I could not venture on +inviting him to my house. I saw what it was to others to be subject to +day-long visits from him, when he would ask for wine, and talk from +morning to night,--and a woman, solitary and busy, could not undertake +that sort of hospitality; but I saw how forbearing his friends were, and +why,--and I could sympathize in their regrets when he died. I met him +in company occasionally, and never saw him sober; but I have heard from +several common friends of the charm of his conversation, and the beauty +of his gentle and affectionate nature. He was brought into the District +when four years old; and it does not appear that he ever had a chance +allowed him of growing into a sane man. Wordsworth used to say that +Hartley's life's failure arose mainly from his having grown up "wild +as the breeze,"--delivered over, without help or guardianship, to the +vagaries of an imagination which overwhelmed all the rest of him. There +was a strong constitutional likeness to his father, evident enough to +all; but no pains seem to have been taken on any hand to guard him from +the snare, or to invigorate his will, and aid him in self-discipline. +The great catastrophe, the ruinous blow, which rendered him hopeless, is +told in the Memoir; but there are particulars which help to account for +it. Hartley had spent his school-days under a master as eccentric as he +himself ever became. The Rev. John Dawes of Ambleside was one of the +oddities that may be found in the remote places of modern England. He +had no idea of restraint, for himself or his pupils; and when they +arrived, punctually or not, for morning school, they sometimes found the +door shut, and chalked with "Gone a-hunting," or "Gone a-fishing," or +gone away somewhere or other. Then Hartley would sit down under the +bridge, or in the shadow of the wood, or lie on the grass on the +hill-side, and tell tales to his schoolfellows for hours. His mind was +developed by the conversation of his father and his father's friends; +and he himself had a great friendship with Professor Wilson, who always +stood by him with a pitying love. He had this kind of discursive +education, but no discipline; and when he went to college, he was at the +mercy of any who courted his affection, intoxicated his imagination, and +then led him into vice. His Memoir shows how he lost his fellowship at +Oriel College, Oxford, at the end of his probationary year. He had been +warned by the authorities against his sin of intemperance; and he bent +his whole soul to get through that probationary year. For eleven months, +and many days of the twelfth, he lived soberly and studied well. Then +the old tempters agreed in London to go down to Oxford and get hold of +Hartley. They went down on the top of the coach, got access to his room, +made him drunk, and carried him with them to London; and he was not to +be found when he should have passed. The story of his death is but too +like this. + +[Footnote A: + +SONNET + +TO TENNYSON, AFTER HEARING ABBY HUTCHINSON SING "THE MAY-QUEEN" AT +AMBLESIDE. + + I would, my friend, indeed, thou hadst been + here + Last night, beneath the shadowy sycamore, + To hear the lines, to me well known before, + Embalmed in music so translucent clear. + Each word of thine came singly to the ear, + Yet all was blended in a flowing stream. + It had the rich repose of summer dream, + The light distinct of frosty atmosphere. + Still have I loved thy verse, yet never knew + How sweet it was, till woman's voice invested + The pencilled outline with the living hue, + And every note of feeling proved and tested. + What might old Pindar be, if once again + The harp and voice were trembling with his + strain! +] + +His fellowship lost, he came, ruinously humbled, to live in this +District, at first under compulsion to take pupils, whom, of course, he +could not manage. On the death of his mother, an annuity was purchased +for him, and paid quarterly, to keep him out of debt, if possible. He +could not take care of money, and he was often hungry, and often begged +the loan of a sixpence; and when the publicans made him welcome to what +he pleased to have, in consideration of the company he brought together, +to hear his wonderful talk, his wit, and his dreams, he was helpless in +the snare. We must remember that he was a fine scholar, as well as a +dreamer and a humorist; and there was no order of intellect, from the +sage to the peasant, which could resist the charm of his discourse. He +had taken his degree with high distinction at Oxford; and yet the old +Westmoreland "statesman," who, offered whiskey and water, accepts the +one and says the other can be had anywhere, would sit long to hear what +Hartley had to tell of what he had seen or dreamed. At gentlemen's +tables, it was a chance how he might talk,--sublimely, sweetly, or with +a want of tact which made sad confusion. In the midst of the great +black-frost at the close of 1848, he was at a small dinner-party at +the house of a widow lady, about four miles from his lodgings. During +dinner, some scandal was talked about some friends of his to whom he +was warmly attached. He became excited on their behalf,--took Champagne +before he had eaten enough, and, before the ladies left the table, was +no longer master of himself. His host, a very young man, permitted some +practical joking: brandy was ordered, and given to the unconscious +Hartley; and by eleven o'clock he was clearly unfit to walk home alone. +His hostess sent her footman with him, to see him home. The man took him +through Ambleside, and then left him to find his way for the other two +miles. The cold was as severe as any ever known in this climate; and it +was six in the morning when his landlady heard some noise in the porch, +and found Hartley stumbling in. She put him to bed, put hot bricks to +his feet, and tried all the proper means; and in the middle of the day +he insisted on getting up and going out. He called at the house of a +friend, Dr. S----, near Ambleside. The kind physician scolded him for +coming out, sent for a carriage, took him home, and put him to bed. He +never rose again, but died on the 6th of January, 1849. The young host +and the old hostess have followed him, after deeply deploring that +unhappy day. + +It was sweet, as well as sorrowful, to see how he was mourned. +Everybody, from his old landlady, who cared for him like a mother, to +the infant-school children, missed Hartley Coleridge. I went to his +funeral at Grasmere. The rapid Rotha rippled and dashed over the stones +beside the churchyard; the yews rose dark from the faded grass of the +graves; and in mighty contrast to both, Helvellyn stood, in wintry +silence, and sheeted with spotless snow. Among the mourners Wordsworth +was conspicuous, with his white hair and patriarchal aspect. He had +no cause for painful emotions on his own account; for he had been a +faithful friend to the doomed victim who was now beyond the reach of his +tempters. While there was any hope that stern remonstrance might rouse +the feeble will and strengthen the suffering conscience to relieve +itself, such remonstrance was pressed; and when the case was past hope, +Wordsworth's door was ever open to his old friend's son. Wordsworth +could stand by that open grave without a misgiving about his own share +in the scene which was here closing; and calm and simply grave he +looked. He might mourn over the life; but he could scarcely grieve at +the death. The grave was close behind the family group of the Wordsworth +tombs. It shows, above the name and dates, a sculptured crown of thorns +and Greek cross, with the legend, "By thy Cross and Passion, Good Lord, +deliver me!" + +One had come and gone meantime who was as express a contrast to Hartley +Coleridge as could be imagined,--a man of energy, activity, stern +self-discipline, and singular strength of will. Such a cast of character +was an inexplicable puzzle to poor Hartley. He showed this by giving his +impression of another person of the same general mode of life,--that +A.B. was "a monomaniac about everything." It was to rest a hard-worked +mind and body, and to satisfy a genuine need of his nature, that Dr. +Arnold came here from Rugby with his family,--first, to lodgings for an +occasional holiday, and afterwards to a house of his own, at Christmas +and Midsummer, and with the intention of living permanently at Fox How, +when he should give up his work at Rugby. + +He was first at a house at the foot of Rydal Mount, at Christmas, 1831, +"with the road on one side of the garden, and the Rotha on the other, +which goes brawling away under our windows with its perpetual music. The +higher mountains that bound our view are all snow-capped; but it is all +snug, and warm, and green in the valley. Nowhere on earth have I ever +seen a spot of more perfect and enjoyable beauty, with not a single +object out of tune with it, look which way I will." He built Fox How, +two or three years later, and at once began his course of hospitality by +having lads of the sixth form as his guests,--not for purposes of study, +but of recreation, and, yet more, to give them that element of education +which consists in familiarity with the noblest natural scenery. The hue +and cry which arose when he showed himself a reformer, in Church matters +as in politics, followed him here, as we see by his letters; and it was +not till his "Life and Correspondence" appeared that his neighbors here +understood him. It has always been difficult, perhaps, for them to +understand anything modern, or at all vivacious. Everybody respected Dr. +Arnold for his energy and industry, his services to education, and his +devotedness to human welfare; but they were afraid of his supposed +opinions. Not the less heartily did he honor everything that was +admirable in them; and when he was gone, they remembered his ways, and +cherished every trace of him, in a manner which showed how they would +have made much of him, if their own timid prejudices had not stood in +the way. They point out to this day the spot where they saw him stand, +without his hat, on Rotha bridge, watching the gush of the river +under the wooded bank, or gazing into the basin of vapors within the +_cul-de-sac_ of Fairfield,--the same view which he looked on from his +study, as he sat on his sofa, surrounded by books. The neighbors show +the little pier at Waterhead whence he watched the morning or the +evening light on the lake, the place where he bathed, and the tracks in +the mountains which led to his favorite ridges. Everybody has read his +"Life and Correspondence," and therefore knows what his mode of life was +here, and how great was his enjoyment of it. We have all read of the +mountain-trips in summer, and the skating on Rydal Lake in winter,--and +how his train of children enjoyed everything with him, as far as they +could. It was but for a few years; and the time never came for him to +retire hither from Rugby. In June, 1842, he had completed his fourteenth +year at Rugby, and was particularly in need, under some harassing cares, +of the solace and repose which a few hours more would have brought him, +when he was cut off by an illness of two hours. On the day when he was +to have been returning to Fox How, some of his children were travelling +thence to his funeral. His biographer tells us how strong was the +consternation at Rugby, when the tidings spread on that Sunday morning, +"Dr. Arnold is dead." Not slight was the emotion throughout this valley, +when the news passed from house to house, the next day. As I write, I +see the windows which were closed that day, and the trees round the +house,--so grown up since he walked among them!--and the course of the +Rotha, which winds and ripples at the foot of his garden. I never saw +him, for I did not come here till two years after; but I have seen his +widow pass on into her honored old age, and his children part off into +their various homes, and their several callings in life,--to meet in +the beloved house at Fox How, at Christmas, and at many another time. + +This leaves only Southey and the Wordsworths; and their ending was not +far off. The old poet had seen almost too much of these endings. One +day, when I found a stoppage in the road at the foot of Rydal Mount, +from a sale of furniture, such as is common in this neighborhood every +spring and autumn, I met Mr. Wordsworth,--not looking observant and +amused, but in his blackest mood of melancholy, and evidently wanting to +get out of the way. He said he did not like the sight: he had seen so +many of these sales; he had seen Southey's, not long before; and these +things reminded him how soon there must be a sale at Rydal Mount. It was +remarked by a third person that this was rather a wilful way of being +miserable; but I never saw a stronger love of life than there was in +them all, even so late in their day as this. Mrs. Wordsworth, then past +her three-score years and ten, observed to me that the worst of living +here was that it made one so unwilling to go. It seems but lately that +she said so; yet she nursed to their graves her daughter and her husband +and his sister, and she herself became blind; so that it was not hard +"to go," when the time came. + +Southey's decline was painful to witness,--even as his beloved wife's +had been to himself. He never got over her loss; and his mind was +decidedly shaken before he made the second marriage which has been so +much talked over. One most touching scene there was when he had become +unconscious of all that was said and done around him. Mrs. Southey had +been careless of her own interests about money when she married him, and +had sought no protection for her own property. When there was manifestly +no hope of her husband's mind ever recovering, his brother assembled the +family and other witnesses, and showed them a kind of will which he had +drawn up, by which Mrs. Southey's property was returned to herself, +intact. He said they were all aware that their relative could not, in +his condition, make a will, and that he was even unaware of what they +were doing; but that it was right that they should, pledge themselves by +some overt act to fulfil what would certainly have been his wish. The +bowed head could not be raised, but the nerveless hand was guided to +sign the instrument; and all present agreed to respect it as if it +were a veritable will,--as of course they did. The decline was full of +painful circumstances; and it must have been with a heart full of sorrow +that Wordsworth walked over the hills to attend the funeral. + +The next funeral was that of his own daughter Dora,--Mrs. Quillinan. A +story has got about, as untrue as it is disagreeable, that Dora lost +her health from her father's opposition to her marriage, and that +Wordsworth's excessive grief after her death was owing to remorse. I can +myself testify to her health having been very good for a considerable +interval between that difficulty and her last illness; and this is +enough, of itself, to dispose of the story. Her parents considered +the marriage an imprudent one; but after securing sufficient time for +consideration, they said that she must judge for herself; and there were +fine qualities in Mr. Quillinan which could not but win their affection +and substantial regard. His first wife, a friend of Dora Wordsworth's, +was carried out of the house in which she had just been confined, from +fire in the middle of the night; she died from the shock; and she died +recommending her husband and her friend to marry. Such is the understood +history of the case. After much delay they did marry, and lived near +Rydal Mount, where Dora was, as always, the light of the house, as long +as she could go to it. But, after a long and painful decline, she died +in 1847. Her husband followed soon after Wordsworth's death. He lies in +the family corner of Grasmere churchyard, between his two wives. This +appeared to be the place reserved for Mrs. Wordsworth, so that Dora +would lie between her parents. There seemed now to be no room left for +the solitary survivor, and many wondered what would be done; but all had +been thought of. Wordsworth's grave had been made deep enough for two; +and there his widow now rests. + +There was much vivid life in them, however clearly the end was +approaching, when I first knew them in 1845. The day after my arrival at +a friend's house, they called on me, excited by two kinds of interest. +Wordsworth had been extremely gratified by hearing, through a book of +mine, how his works were estimated by certain classes of readers in the +United States; and he and Mrs. Wordsworth were eager to learn facts and +opinions about mesmerism, by which I had just recovered from a +long illness, and which they hoped might avail in the case of a +daughter-in-law, then in a dying state abroad. After that day, I met +them frequently, and was at their house, when I could go. On occasion of +my first visit, I was struck by an incident which explained the ridicule +we have all heard thrown on the old poet for a self-esteem which he was +merely too simple to hide. Nothing could be easier than to make a quiz +of what he said to me; but to me it seemed delightful. As he at once +talked of his poems, I thought I might; and I observed that he might +be interested in knowing which of his poems had been Dr. Channing's +favorite. Seeing him really interested, I told him that I had not been +many hours under Dr. Channing's roof before he brought me "The Happy +Warrior," which, he said, moved him more than any other in the +whole series. Wordsworth remarked,--and repeated the remark very +earnestly,--that this was evidently applicable to the piece, "not as +a poem, not as fulfilling the conditions of poetry, but as a chain of +extremely valuable _thoughts_." Then he repeated emphatically,--"a chain +of extremely _valuable_ thoughts!" This was so true that it seemed as +natural for him to say it as Dr. Channing, or any one else. + +It is indisputable that his mind and manners were hurt by the prominence +which his life at the Lakes--a life very public, under the name of +seclusion--gave, in his own eyes; to his own works and conversation; but +he was less absorbed in his own objects, less solemn, less severed from +ordinary men than is supposed, and has been given out by strangers, who, +to the number of eight hundred in a year, have been received by him with +a bow, asked to see the garden-terraces where he had meditated this and +that work, and dismissed with another bow, and good wishes for their +health and pleasure,--the host having, for the most part, not heard, or +not attended to, the name of his visitor. I have seen him receive in +that way a friend, a Commissioner of Education, whom I ventured to take +with me, (a thing I very rarely did,) and in the evening have had a +message asking if I knew how Mr. Wordsworth could obtain an interview +with this very gentleman, who was said to be in the neighborhood. All +this must be very bad for anybody; and so was the distinction of having +early chosen this District for a home. When I first came, I told my +friends here that I was alarmed for myself, when I saw the spirit of +insolence which seemed to possess the cultivated residents, who really +did virtually assume that the mountains and vales were somehow their +property, or at least a privilege appropriate to superior people +like themselves. Wordsworth's sonnets about the railway were a mild +expression of his feelings in this direction; and Mrs. Wordsworth, +in spite of her excellent sense, took up his song, and declared with +unusual warmth that green fields, with daisies and buttercups, were as +good for Lancashire operatives as our lakes and valleys. I proposed that +the people should judge of this for themselves; but there was no end to +ridicule of "the people from Birthwaite" (the end of the railway, five +miles off). Some had been seen getting their dinner in the churchyard, +and others inquiring how best to get up Loughrigg,--"evidently, quite +puzzled, and not knowing where to go." My reply, "that they would know +next time," was not at all sympathized in. The effect of this exclusive +temper was pernicious in the neighborhood. A petition to Parliament +against the railway was not brought to me, as it was well known that +I would not sign it; but some little girls undertook my case; and the +effect of their parroting of Mr. Wordsworth, about "ourselves" and "the +common people" who intrude upon us, was as sad as it was absurd. The +whole matter ended rather remarkably. When all were gone but Mrs. +Wordsworth, and she was blind, a friend who was as a daughter to her +remarked, one summer day, that there were some boys on the Mount in +the garden. "Ah!" said Mrs. Wordsworth, "there is no end to those +people;--boys from Birthwaite!--boys from Birthwaite!" It was the Prince +of Wales, with a companion or two. + +The notion of Wordsworth's solemnity and sublimity, as something +unremitting, was a total mistake. It probably arose from the want of +proportion in his mind, as in his sister's, before referred to. But he +relished the common business of life, and not only could take in, but +originate a joke. I remember his quizzing a common friend of ours,--one +much esteemed by us all,--who had a wonderful ability of falling asleep +in an instant, when not talking. Mr. Wordsworth told me of the extreme +eagerness of this gentleman, Mrs. Wordsworth, and himself, to see the +view over Switzerland from the ridge of the Jura. Mrs. Wordsworth could +not walk so fast as the gentlemen, and her husband let the friend go on +by himself. When they arrived, a minute or two after him, they found him +sitting on a stone in face of all Switzerland, fast asleep. When Mr. +Wordsworth mimicked the sleep, with his head on one side, anybody +could have told whom he was quizzing.--He and Mrs. Wordsworth, but too +naturally impressed with the mischief of overwalking in the case of +women, took up a wholly mistaken notion that I walked too much. One day +I was returning from a circuit of ten miles with a guest, when we +met the Wordsworths. They asked where we had been. "By Red Bank to +Grasmere." Whereupon Mr. Wordsworth laid his hand on my guest's arm, +saying, "There, there! take care what you are about! don't let her lead +you about! I can tell you, she has killed off half the gentlemen in the +county!"--Mrs. Hemans tells us, that, before she had known him many +hours, she was saying to him, "Dear me, Mr. Wordsworth! how can you be +so giddy?" + +His interest in common things never failed. It has been observed that +he and Mrs. Wordsworth did incalculable good by the example they +unconsciously set the neighborhood of respectable thrift. There are no +really poor people at Rydal, because the great lady at the Hall, Lady Le +Fleming, takes care that there shall be none,--at the expense of great +moral mischief. But there is a prevalent recklessness, grossness, and +mingled extravagance and discomfort in the family management, which, I +am told, was far worse when the Wordsworths came than it is now. Going +freely among the neighbors, and welcoming and helping them familiarly, +the Wordsworths laid their own lives open to observation; and the +mingled carefulness and comfort--the good thrift, in short--wrought as +a powerful lesson all around. As for what I myself saw,--they took a +practical interest in my small purchase of land for my abode; and Mr. +Wordsworth often came to consult upon the plan and progress of the +house. He used to lie on the grass, beside the young oaks, before the +foundations were dug; and he referred me to Mrs. Wordsworth as the best +possible authority about the placing of windows and beds. He climbed to +the upper rooms before there was a staircase; and we had to set Mrs. +Wordsworth as a watch over him, when there was a staircase, but no +balustrade. When the garden was laid out, he planted a stone-pine +(which is flourishing) under the terrace-wall, washed his hands in the +watering-pot, and gave the place and me at once his blessing and some +thrifty counsel. When I began farming, he told me an immense deal about +his cow; and both of them came to see my first calf, and ascertain +whether she had the proper marks of the handsome short-horn of the +region. The distinctive impression which the family made on the minds +of the people about them was that of practical ability; and it was +thoroughly well conveyed by the remark of a man at Rydal, on hearing +some talk of Mrs. Wordsworth, a few days after the poet's death: +--"She's a gay [rare] clever body, who will carry on the business as +well as any of 'em." + +Nothing could be more affecting than to watch the silent changes in Mrs. +Wordsworth's spirits during the ten years which followed the death of +her daughter. For many months her husband's gloom was terrible, in the +evenings, or in dull weather. Neither of them could see to read much; +and the poet was not one who ever pretended to restrain his emotions, +or assume a cheerfulness which he did not feel. We all knew that the +mother's heart was the bereaved one, however impressed the father's +imagination might be by the picture of his own desolation; and we saw +her mute about her own trial, and growing whiter in the face and smaller +from month to month, while he put no restraint upon his tears and +lamentations. The winter evenings were dreary; and in hot summer days +the aged wife had to follow him, when he was missed for any time, lest +he should be sitting in the sun without his hat. Often she found him +asleep on the heated rock. His final illness was wearing and dreary to +her; but there her part was clear, and she was adequate to it. "You +are going to Dora," she whispered to him, when the issue was no longer +doubtful. She thought he did not hear or heed; but some hours after, +when some one opened the curtain, he said, "Are you Dora?" Composed and +cheerful in the prospect of his approaching rest, and absolutely without +solicitude for herself, the wife was everything to him till the last +moment; and when he was gone, the anxieties of the self-forgetting woman +were over. She attended his funeral, and afterwards chose to fill her +accustomed place among the guests who filled the house. She made tea +that evening as usual; and the lightening of her spirits from that time +forward was evident. It was a lovely April day, the 23d, (Shakspeare's +birth--and death-day,) when her task of nursing closed. The news spread +fast that the old poet was gone; and we all naturally turned our eyes up +to the roof under which he lay. There, above and amidst the young green +of the woods, the modest dwelling shone in the sunlight. The smoke went +up thin and straight into the air; but the closed windows gave the place +a look of death. There he was lying whom we should see no more. + +The poor sister remained for five years longer. Travellers, American +and others, must remember having found the garden-gate locked at Rydal +Mount, and perceiving the reason why, in seeing a little garden-chair, +with an emaciated old lady in it, drawn by a nurse round and round the +gravelled space before the house. That was Miss Wordsworth, taking her +daily exercise. It was a great trouble, at times, that she could not be +placed in some safe privacy; and Wordsworth's feudal loyalty was put to +a severe test in the matter. It had been settled that a cottage should +be built for his sister, in a field of his, beyond the garden. The plan +was made, and the turf marked out, and the digging about to begin, +when the great lady at the Hall, Lady Le Fleming, interfered with a +prohibition. She assumed the feudal prerogative of determining what +should or should not be built on all the lands over which the Le +Flemings have borne sway; and her extraordinary determination was, that +no dwelling should be built, except on the site of a former one! We +could scarcely believe we had not been carried back into the Middle +Ages, when we heard it; but the old poet, whom any sovereign in Europe +would have been delighted to gratify, submitted with a good grace, and +thenceforth robbed his sister's feet, and coaxed and humored her at +home,--trusting his guests to put up with the inconveniences of her +state, as he could not remove them from sight and hearing. After she was +gone also, Mrs. Wordsworth, entirely blind, and above eighty years of +age, seemed to have no cares, except when the errors and troubles of +others touched her judgment or sympathy. She was well cared for by +nieces and friends. Her plain common sense and cheerfulness appeared +in one of the last things she said, a few hours before her death. She +remarked on the character of the old hymns, practical and familiar, +which people liked when she was young, and which answered some purposes +better than the sublimer modern sort. She repeated part of a child's +hymn,--very homely, about going straight to school, and taking care of +the books, and learning the lesson well,--and broke off, saying, "There! +if you want to hear the rest, ask the Bishop o' London. _He_ knows it." + +Then, all were gone; and there remained only the melancholy breaking up +of the old home which had been interesting to the world for forty-six +years. Mrs. Wordsworth died in January, 1859. In the May following, the +sale took place which Wordsworth had gloomily foreseen so many years +before. Everything of value was reserved, and the few articles desired +by strangers were bought by commission; and thus the throng at the sale +was composed of the ordinary elements. The spectacle was sufficiently +painful to make it natural for old friends to stay away. Doors and +windows stood wide. The sofa and tea-table where the wisest and best +from all parts of the world had held converse were turned out to be +examined and bid for. Anybody who chose passed the sacred threshold; the +auctioneer's hammer was heard on the terrace; and the hospitable parlor +and kitchen were crowded with people swallowing tea in the intervals of +their business. One farmer rode six-and-thirty miles that morning to +carry home something that had belonged to Wordsworth; and, in default of +anything better, he took a patched old table-cover. There was a bed +of anemones under the windows, at one end of the house; and a bed of +anemones is a treasure in our climate. It was in full bloom in the +morning; and before sunset, every blossom was gone, and the bed was +trampled into ruin. It was dreary work! The two sons live at a distance; +and the house is let to tenants of another name. + +I perceive that I have not noticed the poet's laureateship. The truth +is, the office never seemed to belong to him; and we forgot it, when +not specially reminded of it. We did not like to think of him in +court-dress, going through the ceremonies of levee or ball, in his +old age. His white hair and dim eyes were better at home among the +mountains. + +There stand the mountains, from age to age; and there run the rivers, +with their full and never-pausing tide, while those who came to live and +grow wise beside them are all gone! One after another, they have lain +down to their everlasting rest in the valleys where their step and their +voices were as familiar as the points of the scenery. The region has +changed much since they came as to a retreat. It was they who caused the +change, for the most part; and it was not for them to complain of it; +but the consequence is, that with them has passed away a peculiar +phase of life in England. It is one which can neither be continued +nor repeated. The Lake District is no longer a retreat; and any other +retreat must have different characteristics, and be illumined by some +different order of lights. The case being so, I have felt no scruple in +asking the attention of my readers to a long story, and to full details +of some of the latest Lights of the Lake District. + + + + +PINK AND BLUE. + + +Everybody knows that a _departing_ guest has the most to say. The touch +of the door-knob sends to his lips a thousand things which _must_ be +told. Is it strange, then, that old people, knowing they have "made out +their visit," and feeling themselves brimful of wisdom and experience, +should wish to speak from the fulness of their hearts to those whom they +must so shortly leave? + +Nobody thinks it strange. The world expects it, and, as a general thing, +bears it patiently. Knowing how universal is this spirit of forbearance, +I should, perhaps, have forever held my peace, lest I might abuse +good-nature, had it not been for some circumstances which will be +related a little farther on. + +My little place of business (I am the goldsmith of our village) has long +been the daily resort of several of my particular cronies. They are men +of good minds,--some of them quite literary; for we count, as belonging +to our set, the lawyer, the schoolmaster, the doctor, men of business, +men of no business, and sometimes even the minister. As may be supposed, +our discussions take a wide range: I can give no better notion of _how_ +wide than to say that we discuss everything in the papers. Yesterday +was a snow-storm, but the meeting was held just the same. It was in the +afternoon. The schoolmaster came in late with a new magazine, from which +he read, now and then, for the general edification. + +"Ah!" said he, "if this be true, we can all write for the papers." + +"How's that?" we asked. + +"Why, it says here, that, if the true experience of any human heart were +written, it would be worth more than the best tale ever invented." + +It was a terribly stormy day. The snow came whirling against the two +windows of my shop, clinging to the outside, making it twilight within. +I had given up work; for my eyes are not what they were, and I have to +favor them. Nobody spoke for a while; all had been set to thinking. +Those few words had sent us all back, back, back, thirty, forty, fifty +years, to call up the past. We were gazing upon forms long since +perished, listening to voices long ago hushed forever. Could those forms +have been summoned before us, how crowded would have been my little +shop! Could those voices have been heard, how terrible the discord, the +cries of the wretched mingling with the shouts of the happy ones! There +was a dead silence. The past was being questioned. Would it reply? + +At last some one said,-- + +"Try it." + +"But," said another, "it would fill a whole book." + +"Take up one branch, then; for instance, our--well, our courting-days. +Let each one tell how he won his wife." + +"But shall we get any money by it?" + +"To be sure we shall. Do you think people write for nothing? '_Worth +more_' are the very words used; 'worth more' _what?_ Money, of course." + +"But what shall we do with all our money?" + +"Buy a library for the use of us all. We will draw lots to see who shall +write first; and if he succeeds, the others can follow in order." + +And thus we agreed. + +I was rather sorry the lot fell upon me; for I was always bashful, and +never thought much of myself but once. I think my bashfulness was mostly +owing to my knowing myself to be not very good-looking. I believe that I +am not considered a bad-looking old man; indeed, people who remember me +at twenty-five say that I have grown handsome every year since. + +I do not intend giving a description of myself at that age, but shall +confine myself principally to what was suggested by my friend, as above +mentioned,--namely, how I won my wife. + +It is astonishing how a man may be deluded. Knowing, as I did, just the +facts in the case, regarding my face and figure, yet the last day of the +year 1817 found me in the full belief that I was quite a good-looking +and every way a desirable young man. This was the third article in my +creed. The second was, that Eleanor Sherman loved me; and the first, +that I loved her. It is curious how I became settled in the third +article by means of the second. + +I had spent hours before my looking-glass, trying to make it give in +that I was good-looking. But never was a glass so set in its way. In +vain I used my best arguments, pleaded before it hour after hour, +re-brushed my hair, re-tied my cravat, smiled, bowed, and so forth, and +so forth. "Ill-looking and awkward!" was my only response. At last it +went so far as to intimate that I had, with all the rest, a _conceited_ +look. This was not to be borne, and I withdrew in disgust. The +argument should be carried on in my own heart. Pure reasoning only was +trustworthy. Philosophers assured us that our senses were not to be +trusted. How easy and straightforward the mental process! "Eleanor loves +me; therefore I cannot look ill!" + +It was on the last day of the year I have mentioned, that, just having, +for the fortieth time, arrived at the above conclusion, I prepared to go +forth upon the most delightful of all possible errands. All day I had +been dwelling upon it, wondering at what hour it would be most proper to +go. At three o'clock, I arrayed myself in my Sunday-clothes. I gave a +parting glance of triumph at my glass, and stepped briskly forth upon +the crispy snow. I met people well wrapped up, with mouth and nose +covered, and saw men leave working to thrash their hands. It must have +been cold, therefore; but I felt none of it. + +Her house was half a mile distant. 'T was on a high bank a little back +from the road, of one story in front, and two at the sides. It was what +was called a single house; the front showed only two windows, with a +door near the corner. The sides were painted yellow, the front white, +with a green door. There was an orchard behind, and two poplar-trees +before it. The pathway up the bank was sprinkled with ashes. I had +frequently been as far as the door with her, evenings when I waited upon +her home; but I had never before approached the house by daylight,--that +is, any nearer than the road. I had never _said_ anything; it wasn't +time; but I had given her several little things, and had tried to be her +beau every way that I knew. + +Before I began to notice her, I had never been about much with the +young folks,--partly because I was bashful, and partly because I was so +clumsy-looking. I was more in earnest, therefore, than if I had been +in the habit of running after the girls. After I began to like her, +I watched every motion,--at church, at evening meetings, at +singing-school; and a glance from her eye seemed to fall right upon my +heart. She had been very friendly and sociable with me, always thanked +me very prettily for what little trifles I gave her, and never refused +my company home. She would put her hand within my arm without a moment's +hesitation, chatting all the while, never seeming in the least to +suspect the shiver of joy which shot through my whole frame from the +little hand upon my coat-sleeve. + +I had long been pondering in my mind, in my walks by day and my +lyings-down at night, what should be the next step, what _overt act_ +I might commit; for something told me it was not yet time to _say_ +anything. + +What could have been more fortunate for my wishes, then, than the +project set on foot by the young people, of a grand sleighing-party on +New-Year's evening? They were mostly younger than myself, especially the +girls. Eleanor was but seventeen, I was twenty-three. But I determined +to join this party, and it was to invite Eleanor that I arrayed myself +and set forth, as above mentioned. It was a bold step for a bashful +man,--I mean now the _inviting_ part. + +I had thought over, coming along, just what words I should use; but, as +I mounted the bank, I felt the words, ideas, and all, slipping out at +the ends of my fingers. If it had been a thickly settled place, I should +not have thought much about being watched; but, as there was only +one house in sight, I was sure that not a motion was lost, that my +proceedings would be duly reported, and discussed by the whole village. +All these considerations rendered my situation upon the stone step at +the front-door very peculiar. + +I knew the family were in the back part of the house; for the shutters +of the front-room were tightly closed, as, indeed, they always were, +except on grand occasions. Nevertheless, knocking at the front-door +seemed the right thing to do, and I did it. With a terrible choking in +my throat, and wondering all the while _who_ would come to open, I did +it. I knocked three times. Nobody came. Peddlers, I had observed in like +cases, opened the outside door and knocked at the inner. I tried this +with no better result. I then ventured to open the inner door softly, +and with feelings of awe I stood alone in the spare-room. + +By the light which streamed in through the holes in the tops of the +shutters I distinguished the green painted chairs backed up stiffly +against the wall, the striped homespun carpet, andirons crossed in the +fireplace, with shovel and tongs to match, the big Bible on the table +under the glass, a _waxwork_ on the high mahogany desk in the corner, +and a few shells and other ornaments upon the mantelshelf. + +The terrible order and gloom oppressed me. I felt that it was no slight +thing to venture thus unbidden into the spare-room,--the room set apart +from common uses, and opened only on great occasions: evening-meetings, +weddings, or funerals. But, in the midst of all my tribulation, one +other thought would come,--I don't exactly like to tell it, but then +I believe I promised to keep nothing back;--well, then, if I must,--I +thought that this spare-room was the place where Eleanor would make up +the fire, when--when I was far enough along to come regularly every +Sunday night. With that thought my courage revived. I heard voices in +the next room, the pounding of a flat-iron, and a frequent step across +the floor. I gave a loud rap. The door opened, and Eleanor herself +appeared. She had on a spotted calico gown, with a string of gold beads +around her neck. She held in her hand a piece of fan coral. I felt +myself turning all colors, stammered, hesitated, and believed in my +heart that she would think me a fool. Very likely she did; for I really +suppose that she never, till then, thought that I _meant anything_. + +She contrived, however, to pick out my meaning from the midst of the odd +words and parts of sentences offered her, and replied that she would let +me know that evening. As she did not invite me to the kitchen, the only +thing left me to do was to say good-afternoon and depart. I don't know +which were the queerest,--my feelings in going up or in coming down the +bank. + +When fairly in the road, happening to glance back at the house, I saw +that one half of a shutter was open, and that a man was watching me. He +drew back before I could recognize him. That evening was singing-school. +That was why I went to invite Eleanor in the afternoon. I was afraid +some other fellow would ask her before school was out. + +When I got there, I found all the young folks gathered about the stove. +Something was going on. I pressed in, and found Harry Harlow. He had +been gone a year at sea, and had arrived that forenoon in the stage from +Boston. They were all listening to his wonderful stories. + +When school was over, I stepped up close to Eleanor and offered my arm. +She drew back a little, and handed me a small package. Harry stepped up +on the other side. She took his arm, and they went off slowly together. +I stood still a moment to watch them. When they turned the corner, I +went off alone. Confounded, wonder-struck, I plunged on through the +snow-drifts, seeing, feeling, knowing nothing but the package in my +hand. I found mother sitting by the fire. She and I lived together,--she +and I, and that was all. I knew I should find her with her little round +table drawn up to the fire, her work laid aside, and the Bible open. She +never went to bed with me out. + +I didn't want to tell her. I wouldn't for the world, if I could have had +the opening of my package all to myself. She asked me if I had fastened +the back-door. I sat down by the fire and slowly undid the string. A +silver thimble fell on the bricks. There was also an artificial flower +made of feathers, a copy of verses headed "To a Pair of Bright Eyes," +cut from the county newspaper, a cherry-colored neck-ribbon, a +smelling-bottle, and, at the bottom, a note. I knew well enough what was +in the note. + +"MR. ALLEN,-- + +"I must decline your invitation to the sleigh-ride; and I hope you will +not be offended, if I ask you not to go about with me any more. I think +you are a very good young man, and, as an acquaintance, I like you very +much. + +"Respectfully yours, + +"ELEANOR SHERMAN. + +"P.S.--With this note you will find the things you have given me." + +I took the iron tongs which stood near, picked up the thimble and +dropped it into the midst of the hot coals, then the flower, then the +verses, then the ribbon, then the smelling-bottle, and would gladly have +added myself. + +My mother and I were everything to each other. We two were all that +remained of a large family. I had always confided in her; but still I +was sorry that I had opened the package there. I might have taken it to +my chamber. But then she would have known, she _must_ have known from my +manner, that something was wrong with me. I think, on the whole, I was +glad to have her know the worst. I knew that my mother worshipped me; +but she was not one of those who let their feelings be seen on common +occasions. I gave her the note, and no more was needed. She tried to +comfort me, as mothers will; but I would not be comforted. It was my +first great heart-trouble, and I was weighed down beneath it. She drew +me towards her, I leaned my head upon her shoulder, and was not ashamed +that she knew of the hot tears upon my cheeks. At last I heard her +murmuring softly,-- + +"Oh, what shall I do? He is all I have, and he is so miserable! How can +I bear his sorrow?" + +I think it was the recollection of these words which induced me +afterwards to hide my feelings, that she might not suffer on my account. + +The next day was clear and bright. The sleighing was perfect. I was +miserable. I had not slept. I could not eat. I dared not go into the +village to encounter the jokes which I was certain awaited me there. +Early in the evening, just as the moon rose, I took my stand behind a +clump of trees, half-way up a hill, where I knew the sleighs must pass. + +There I stood, feeling neither cold nor weariness, waiting, watching, +listening for the sleigh-bells. At last I heard them, first faintly, +then louder and louder, until they reached the bottom of the hill. +Slowly they came up, passing, one after another, by my hiding-place. +There were ten sleighs in all. She and Harry were in the fourth. The +moon shone full in their faces, and his looked just as I had often felt; +but I had never dared to show it as Harry did. I felt sure that he would +kiss her. A blue coverlet was wrapped around them, and he was tucking it +in on her side. The hill was steep just there, so that they were obliged +to move quite slowly. They were talking earnestly, and I heard my name. +I was not sure at first; but afterwards I knew. + +"I never thought of his being in earnest before. He is a great deal +older than I, and I never thought that anybody so homely and awkward as +he could suppose"-- + +"Jingle, jingle, jingle," and that was all I heard. I held myself still, +watched the sleighs disappear, one after another, over the brow of the +hill, listened till the last note of the last bell was lost in the +distance, then turned and ran. + +I ran as if I had left my misery behind, and every step were taking me +farther from it. But when I reached home, there it was, aching, aching +in my heart, just the same as before. And there it stayed. Even now, I +can hardly bear to think of those terrible days and nights. But for my +mother's sake I tried to seem cheerful, though I no longer went about +with the young folks. I applied myself closely to my business, sawed my +mother's wood for exercise, learned to paint, and read novels and poetry +for amusement. + +Thus time passed on. The little boys began to call themselves young men, +and me an old _bach_; and into this character I contentedly settled +down. My wild oats, of which I had had but scant measure, I considered +sown. My sense of my own ill-looks became morbid. I hardly looked at a +female except my mother, lest she'd think that I "_could suppose_." +The old set were mostly married off. Eleanor married the young sailor. +People spoke of her as being high-tempered, as being extravagant, +spending in fine clothes the money he earned at the risk of his life. I +don't know that it made any difference to my feelings. It might. At the +time she turned me off, I think I should have married her, knowing she +had those faults. But she removed to the city, and by degrees time and +absence wore off the edge of my grief. My mother lost part of her little +property, and I was obliged to exert myself that she might miss none of +her accustomed comforts. She was a good mother, thoughtful and tender, +sympathizing not only in my troubles, but in my every-day pursuits, my +work, my books, my paintings. + +When I was about thirty, Jane Wood came to live near us. Her mother and +young sister came with her. They rented a small house just across the +next field from us. Although ours, therefore, might have been considered +an infected neighborhood, yet I never supposed myself in the slightest +danger, because I had had the disease. Nevertheless, having an abiding +sense of my own ugliness, I should not have ventured into the immediate +presence of the Woods, _except_ on works of necessity and mercy. + +The younger sister was taken very ill with the typhus fever. It was +customary, in our village, for the neighbors, in such cases, to be very +helpful. Mother was with them day and night, and, when she could not go +herself, used to send me to see if they wanted anything, for they had no +men-folks. + +I seldom saw Jane, and when I did, I never looked at her. I mean, I did +not look her full in the face. It was to her mother that I made all my +offers of assistance. + +This habit of shunning the society of all young females, and +particularly of the Wood girls, was by no means occasioned by any fears +in regard to my own safety. Far from it. I considered myself as one set +apart from all mankind,--set apart, and fenced in, by my own personal +disadvantages. The thought of my caring for a girl, or of being cared +for by a girl, never even occurred to me. "Taboo," so far as I was +concerned, was written upon them all. The marriage state I saw from afar +off. Beautiful and bright it looked in the distance, like the Promised +Land to true believers. Some visions I beheld of its beautiful angels +walking in shining robes; strains of its sweet melody were sometimes +wafted across the distance; but I might never enter there. It was no +land of promise to me. A gulf, dark and impassable, lay between. And +beside all this, as I have already intimated, I considered myself out of +danger. My life's lesson had been learned. I knew it by heart. What more +could be expected of me? + +But, after all, we can't go right against our natures; and it is not the +nature of man to look upon the youthful and the elderly female exactly +in the same light. The feelings with which they are approached are +essentially different, whether he who approaches be seventeen or +seventy. Thus, in conversing with the old lady Wood, I was quite at +my ease. When the invalid began to get well, I often carried her nice +little messes, which my mother prepared, and was generally lucky enough +to find Mrs. Wood,--for I always went in at the back-door. She asked me, +one day, if I could lend Ellen something to read,--for she was then just +about well enough to amuse herself with a book, but not strong enough to +work. Now I always had (so my mother said) a kind and obliging way with +me, and had, besides, a great pride in my library. I was delighted that +anybody wanted to read my books, and hurried home to make a selection. + +That very afternoon, I took over an armful. Nobody was in the kitchen; +so I sat down to wait. The door of the little keeping-room was open, and +I knew by their voices that some great discussion was going on. I tipped +over a cricket to make them aware of my presence. The door was opened +wide, and Mrs. Wood appeared. + +"Now here is Mr. Allen," she exclaimed. "Let us get his opinion." + +Then she took me in, where they were holding solemn council over a straw +bonnet and various colored ribbons. She introduced me to Ellen, whom I +had never before met. She was a merry-looking, black-eyed maiden, and +the roses were already blooming out again upon her cheeks. She was very +young,--not more than fifteen or sixteen. + +"Now, Mr. Allen," said Jane, (she was not so bashful to me as I was to +her,) "let us have your opinion upon these trimmings. Remember, though, +that pink and blue can't go together." + +She turned her face full upon me, and I looked straight into her eyes. +I really believe it was the first time I had done so. They were +beautifully blue, with long dark lashes. She had been a little excited +by the discussion, and her cheeks were like two roses. A strange +boldness came over me. + +"How can I remember that," I answered, "when I see in your face that +pink and blue _do_ go together?" + +Never, till within a few years, could I account for this sudden +boldness. I have now no doubt that I spoke by what spiritualists call +"impression." We were all surprised, and I most of all. Jane laughed, +and looked pinker than before. She would as soon have expected a +compliment from the town pump, and I felt it. + +I knew nothing of bonnets, but I had studied painting, and was a judge +of colors. I made a selection, and could see that they were again +surprised at my good taste. I then offered my books, spoke of the +different authors, turned to what I thought might particularly please +them, and, before I knew it, was all aglow with the unusual excitement +of conversation. I saw that they were not without cultivation, and that +they had a quick appreciation of literary merit. + +And thus an acquaintance commenced. I called often, for it seemed a +pleasant thing to do. As my excuse, I took with me my books, papers, +and all the new publications which reached me. I always thought they +appeared very glad to see me. + +Being strangers in the place, they saw but little company, and it seemed +to be nothing more than my duty to call in now and then in a neighborly +way. I talked quite easily; for among books I felt at home. They talked +easily, too; for they (I say it in no ill-natured way) were women. They +began to consider my frequent calling as a matter of course, and always +smiled upon me when I entered. I felt that they congratulated themselves +upon finding me out. They had penetrated the ice, and found open sea +beyond. I speak of it in this way, because I afterwards overheard Ellen +joking her sister about discovering the Northwest Passage to my heart. + +This was in the fall of the year, when the evenings were getting quite +long. They were fond of reading, but had not much time for it. I was +fond of reading, and had many long evenings at my disposal. It followed, +therefore, that I read aloud, while they worked. With the "Pink and +Blue" just opposite, I read evening after evening. At first I used to +look up frequently, to see how such and such a passage would strike her; +but one evening Ellen asked me, in a laughing, half-saucy sort of way, +why I didn't look at _her_ sometimes to see how _she_ liked things. This +made me color up; and Jane colored up, too. After that I kept my eyes on +my book; but I always knew when she stopped her work and raised her +head at the interesting parts, and always hoped she didn't see the red +flushes spreading over my face, and always wished, too, that she would +look away,--for, somehow, my voice would not go on smoothly. + +Those red flushes were to myself most mysterious. Nevertheless, they +continued, and even appeared to be on the increase. At first, I felt +them only while reading; then, upon entering the room; and at last +they began to come before I got across the field. Still I felt no real +uneasiness, but, on the contrary, was glad I could be of so much use to +the family. Never before was the want of men-folks felt so little by a +family of women-folks. I did errands, split kindling, dug "tracks," (_i. +e._, paths in the snow,) and glued broken furniture. + +I always thought of Jane as "Pink and Blue." Sometimes I thought from +her manner that she would a little rather I wouldn't come so often. I +thought she didn't look up at me so pleasantly as she used to at first, +and seemed a little stiff; but, as I had a majority in my favor, I +continued my visits. I always had one good look at her when I said +good-night; but it made the red come, so that I had to hurry out before +she saw. It seemed to me that her cheeks then looked pinker than ever, +and the two colors, pink and blue, seemed to mingle and float before my +eyes all the way home. "Pink and blue," "pink and blue." How those two +little words kept running in my head, and, I began to fear, in my heart +too!--for no sooner would I close my eyes at night than those delicate +pink cheeks and blue eyes would appear before me. They haunted my +dreams, and were all ready to greet me at waking. + +I was completely puzzled. It reminded me of old times. Seemed just like +being in love again. Could it be possible that I was liable to a second +attack? + +One night I took a new book and hurried across the field to the Woods', +for I never was easy till I saw "Pink and Blue" face to face; and +then,--why, then, I was not at all easy. I felt the red flushes coming +long before I reached the house. As soon as I entered the room, I felt +that she was missing. I must have looked blank; for Mrs. Wood began +to explain immediately, that Jane was not well, and had gone to +bed;--nothing serious; but she had thought it better for her not to +sit up. I remained and read as usual, but, as it seemed to me, to bare +walls. I had become so accustomed to reading with "Pink and Blue" just +opposite, to watching for the dropping of her work and the raising of +her eyes to my face, that I really seemed on this occasion to be reading +to no purpose whatever. I went home earlier than usual, very sober and +very full of thought. My mother noticed it, and inquired if they were +well at Mrs. Wood's. So I told her about Jane. + +That night my eyes were fully opened. I was in love. Yes, the old +disease was upon me, and my last state was worse than my first,--just as +much so as Jane was superior to Eleanor. The discovery threw me into +the greatest distress. Hour after hour I walked the floor, in my own +chamber, trying to reason the love from my heart,--but in vain; and at +length, tossing myself on the bed, I almost cursed the hour in which I +first saw the Woods. I called myself fool, dolt, idiot, for thus running +my head a second time into the noose. It may seem strange, but the +thought that she might possibly care for me never once occurred to my +mind. Eleanor's words in the sleigh still rang in my ears: "I never +thought that anybody so homely and awkward could suppose"--No, I must +not "suppose." Once, in the midst of it all, I calmed down, took a +light, and, very deliberately walking to the glass, took a complete view +of my face and figure,--but with no other effect than to settle me more +firmly in my wretchedness. Towards morning I grew calmer, and resolved +to look composedly upon my condition, and decide what should be done. + +While I was considering whether or not to continue my visits at the +Woods', I fell asleep just where I had thrown myself, outside the bed, +in overcoat and boots. I dreamed of seeing "Pink and Blue" carried off +by some horrid monster,--which, upon examination, proved to be myself. +The sun shining in my face woke me, and I remembered that I had decided +upon nothing. The best thing seemed to be to snap off the acquaintance +and quit the place. But then I could not leave my mother. No, I must +keep where I was,--and if I kept where I was, I must keep on at the +Woods',--and if I kept on at the Woods', I should keep on feeling just +as I did, and perhaps--more so. I resolved, finally, to remain where +I was, and to take no abrupt step, (which might cause remark,) but +to break off my visits gradually. The first week, I could skip one +night,--the next, two,--and so on,--using my own judgment about tapering +off the acquaintance gradually and gracefully to an imperceptible point. +The way appearing plain at last, how that _unloving_ might be made easy, +I assumed a cheerful air, and went down to breakfast. My mother looked +up rather anxiously at my entrance; but her anxiety evidently vanished +at sight of my face. + +It did not seem to me quite right to forsake the Woods that morning; for +some snow had fallen during the night, and I felt it incumbent upon me +to dig somewhat about the doors. With my trousers tucked into my boots, +I trod a new path across the field. It would have seemed strange not to +go in; so I went in and warmed my feet at the kitchen-fire. Only Mrs. +Wood was there; but I made no inquiries. Not knowing what to say, I rose +to go; but, just at that minute, the mischievous Ellen came running out +of the keeping-room and wanted to know where I was going. Why didn't I +come in and see Jane? So I went in to see Jane, saying my prayers, as I +went,--that is, praying that I might not grow foolish again. But I did. +I don't believe any man could have helped it. She was reclining upon +a couch which was drawn towards the fire. I sat down as far from that +couch as the size of the room would allow. She looked pale and really +ill, but raised her blue eyes when she said good-morning; and then--the +hot flushes began to come. She looked red, too, and I thought she had +a settled fever. I wanted to say something, but didn't know what. Some +things seemed too warm, others too cold. At last I thought,--"Why, +_anybody_ can say to anybody, 'How do you do?'" So I said,-- + +"Miss Wood, how do you do, this morning?" + +She looked up, surprised; for I tried hard to stiffen my words, and had +succeeded admirably. + +"Not very unwell, I thank you, Sir," she replied; but I knew she was +worse than the night before. My situation grew unbearable, and I rose to +go. + +"Mr. Allen, what do you think about Jane?" said Ellen. "You know about +sickness, don't you? Come, feel her pulse, and see if she will have a +fever." And she drew me towards the lounge. + +My heart was in my throat, and my face was on fire. Jane flushed up, and +I thought she was offended at my presumption. What could I do? Ellen +held out to me the little soft hand; but I dared not touch it, unless I +asked her first. + +"Miss Wood," I asked, "shall I mind Ellen?" + +"Of course you will," exclaimed Ellen. "Tell him yes, Jane." + +Then Jane smiled and said,-- + +"Yes, if he is willing." + +And I took her wrist in my thumb and finger. The pulse was quick and the +skin dry and hot. I think I would have given a year's existence to clasp +that hand between my own, and to stroke down her hair. I hardly knew how +I didn't do it; and the fear that I should made me drop her arm in +a hurry, as if it had burned my fingers. Ellen stared. I bade them +good-morning abruptly, and left the room and the house. "This, then," I +thought, as I strode along towards the village, "is the beginning of the +ending!" + +That evening, I felt in duty bound to go, as a neighbor, to inquire for +the sick. I went, but found no one below. When Ellen came down, she said +that Jane was quite ill. I remained in the keeping-room all the evening, +mostly alone, asked if I could do anything for them, and obtained some +commissions for the next day at the village. + +Jane's illness, though long, was not dangerous,--at least, not to her. +To me it was most perilous, particularly the convalescence; for then I +could be of so much use to her! The days were long and spring-like. Wild +flowers appeared. She liked them, and I managed that she should never be +without a bunch of them. She liked paintings, and I brought over my own +portfolio. She must have wondered at the number of violets and roses +therein. The readings went on and seemed more delicious than ever. I +owned a horse and chaise, and for a whole week debated whether it would +be safe for me to take her to drive. But I didn't; for I should have +been obliged to hand her in, to help her out, and to sit close beside +her all alone. All that could never be done without my betraying myself. +But she got well without any drives; and by the latter part of April, +when the evenings had become very short, I thought it high time to begin +to skip one. I began on Monday. I kept away all day, all the evening, +and all the next day. Tuesday evening, just before dark, I took the path +across the field. The two girls were at work making a flower-garden. +"Pink and Blue" had a spade, and was actually spading up the ground. I +caught it from her hand so quickly that she looked up almost frightened. +Her face was flushed with exercise; but her blue eyes looked tired. How +I reproached myself for not coming sooner! At dark, I went in with them. +We took our accustomed seats, and I read. "Paradise regained" was what I +kept thinking of. Once, when I moved my seat, that I might be directly +opposite Jane, who was lying on the coach, I thought I saw Ellen and her +mother exchange glances. I was suspected, then,--and with all the pains +I had taken, too. This rather upset me; and what with my joy at being +with Jane, my exertions to hide it, and my mortification at being +discovered, my reading, I fear, was far from satisfactory. + +The next morning I went early to the flower-garden, and, before anybody +was stirring, had it all hoed and raked over, so that no more hard work +could be done there. I didn't go in. Thursday night I went again, and +again Saturday night. The next week I skipped two evenings, and the +next, three, and flattered myself I was doing bravely. Jane never asked +me why I came so seldom, but Ellen did frequently; and I always replied +that I was very busy. Those were truly days of suffering. Nevertheless, +having formed my resolution, I determined to abide by it. God only knew +what it cost me. On the beautiful May mornings, and during the long +"after tea," which always comes into country-life, I could watch them, +watch her, from my window, while the planting, watering, and weeding +went on in the flower-garden. I saw them go in at dark, saw the light +appear in the keeping-room, and fancied them sitting at their work, +wondering, perhaps, that nobody came to read to them. + +One day, when I had not been there for three days and nights, I +received, while at work in my shop, a sudden summons from home. My +mother, the little boy said, was very sick. I hurried home in great +agitation. I could not bear the thought that sickness or death should +reach my dear mother. Mrs. Wood met me at the door, to say that a +physician had been sent for, but that my mother was relieved and there +was no immediate danger. I hurried to her chamber and found--Jane by +her bedside. For all my anxiety about my mother, I felt the hot flush +spreading over my face. It seemed so good to see her taking care of my +mother! In my agitation, I caught hold of her hand and spoke before I +thought. + +"Oh, Jane," I whispered, "I am so glad you are here!" + +Her face turned as red as fire. I thought she was angry at my boldness, +or, perhaps, because I called her Jane. + +"Excuse me," said I. "I am so agitated about mother that I hardly know +what I am about." + +When the doctor came, he gave hopes that my mother would recover; but +she never did. She suffered little, but grew weaker and weaker every +day. Jane was with her day and night; for my mother liked her about her +bed better than anybody. Oh, what a strange two weeks were those! My +mother was so much to me, how could I give her up? She was the only +person on earth who cared for me, and she must die! Yet side by side in +my heart with this great grief was the great joy of living, day after +day, night after night, under the same roof with Jane. By necessity +thrown constantly with her, feeling bound to see that she, too, did not +get sick, with watching and weariness,--yet feeling myself obliged to +measure my words, to keep up an unnatural stiffness, lest I should break +down, and she know all my weakness! + +At last all was over,--my mother was dead. It is of no use,--I never can +put into words the frenzied state of my feelings at that time. I had not +even the poor comfort of grieving like other people. I ground my teeth +and almost cursed myself, when the feeling would come that sorrow for +my mother's death was mingled with regrets that there was no longer any +excuse for my remaining in the same neighborhood with Jane. I reproached +myself with having made my mother's death-bed a place of happiness; for +my conscience told me that those two weeks had been, in one sense, the +happiest of my life. + +By what I then experienced I knew that our connection must be broken off +entirely. Half-way work had already been tried too long. Sitting by the +dead body of my mother, gazing upon that face which, ever since I could +remember, had reflected my own joys and sorrows, I resolved to decide +once for all upon my future course. I was without a single tie. In all +the wide world, not a person cared whether I lived or died. One part of +the wide world, then, was as good for me as another. There was but one +little spot where I must not remain; all the rest was free to me. I took +the map of the world. I was a little past thirty, healthy, and should +probably, accidents excepted, live out the time allotted to man. I +divided the land mapped out before me into fifteen portions. I would +live two years in each; then, being an old man, I would gradually draw +nearer to this forbidden "little spot," inquire what had become of the +Woods, and settle down in the same little house, patiently to await my +summons. My future life being thus all mapped out, I arose with calmness +to perform various little duties which yet remained to be done before +the funeral could take place. + +Beautiful flowers were in the room; a few white ones were at my mother's +breast. Jane brought them. She had done everything, and I had not even +thanked her. How could I, in that stiff way I had adopted towards her? + +My father was buried beneath an elm-tree, at the farthest corner of the +garden. I had my mother laid by his side. When the funeral was over, +Mrs. Wood and her daughters remained at the house to arrange matters +somewhat, and to give directions to the young servant, who was now my +only housekeeper. At one time I was left alone with Jane; the others +were up stairs. Feeling that any emotion on my part might reasonably be +attributed to my affliction, I resolved to thank her for her kindness. I +rushed suddenly up to her, and, seizing her hand, pressed it between my +own. + +"I want to thank you, Jane," I began, "but--I cannot." + +And I could not, for I trembled all over, and something choked me so +that I could not speak more. + +"Oh, don't, Mr. Allen!" she said; and the tone in which she uttered the +words startled me. + +It seemed as if they came from the very depths of her being. Feeling +that I could not control myself, I rushed out and gained my own chamber. +What passed there between myself and my great affliction can never be +told. + +In a week's time all was ready for my departure. I gave away part of the +furniture to some poor relations of my father's. My mother's clothing +and the silver spoons, which were marked with her maiden name, I locked +up in a trunk, and asked Mrs. Wood to take care of it. She inquired +where I was going, and I said I didn't know. I didn't, for I was not to +decide until I reached Boston. I think she thought my mind was impaired +by grief, and it was. I spent the last evening there. They knew I was to +start the next forenoon in the stage, and they really seemed very sober. +No reading was thought of. Jane had her knitting-work, and Mrs. Wood +busied herself about her mending. The witchy little Ellen was quite +serious. She sat in a low chair by the fire, sometimes stirring up the +coals and sometimes the conversation. Jane appeared restless. I feared +she was overwearied with watching and her long attendance on my mother, +for her face was pale and she had a headache. She left the room several +times. I felt uneasy while she was out; but no less so when she came +back,--for there was a strange look about her eyes. + +At last I summoned all my courage and rose to depart. + +"I will not say good-bye," I said, in a strange, hollow voice; "I will +only shake hands, and bid you good-night." + +I shook hands with them all,--Jane last. Her hand was as cold as clay. I +dared not try to speak, but rushed abruptly from the house. Another long +night of misery! + +When I judged, from the sounds below stairs, that my little servant had +breakfast ready, I went down and forced myself to eat; for I was feeling +deathly faint, and knew I needed food. I gave directions for the +disposition of some remaining articles, and for closing the house, then +walked rapidly towards the public-house in the village, where my trunks +had already been carried. I was very glad that I should not have to pass +the Woods'. I saw the girls out in their garden just before I left, and +took a last long look, but was sorry I did; it did me no good. + +I was to go to Boston in the stage, and then take a vessel to New York, +whence I might sail for any part of the world. When I arrived at the +tavern, the Boston stage was just in, and the driver handed me a letter. +It was from the mate of the vessel, saying that his sailing would be +delayed two days, and requesting me to take a message from him to his +family, who lived in a small village six miles back from what was called +the stage-road. I went on horseback, performed my errand, dined with the +family, and returned at dark to the inn. After supper, it occurred to me +to go to the Woods' and surprise them. I wanted to see just what they +were doing, and just how they looked,--just how _she_ looked. But a +moment's reflection convinced me that I had much better not. But be +quiet I could not, and I strolled out of the back-door of the inn, and +so into a wide field behind. There was a moon, but swift dark clouds +were flying across it, causing alternate light and shadow. I strayed +on through field and meadow, hardly knowing whither I went, yet with a +half-consciousness that I should find myself at the end by my mother's +grave. I felt, therefore, no surprise when I saw that I was approaching, +through a field at the back of my garden, the old elm-tree. As I drew +near the grave, the moon, appearing from behind a cloud, showed me the +form of a woman leaning against the tree. She wore no bonnet,--nothing +but a shawl thrown over her head. Her face was turned from me, but I +knew those features, even in the indistinct moonlight, and my heart gave +a sudden leap, as I pressed eagerly forward. She turned in affright, +half screamed, half ran, then, recognizing me, remained still as a +statue. + +"Mr. Allen, you here? I thought you were gone," she said, at last. + +"Jane, you here?" said I. "You ought not; the night is damp; you will +get sick." + +Nevertheless, I went on talking, told what had detained me, described +my journey and visit, and inquired after her family, as if I had been a +month absent. I never talked so easily before; for I knew she was not +looking in my face, and forgot how my voice might betray me. I spoke of +my mother, of how much she was to me, of my utter loneliness, and even +of my plans for the future. + +"But I am keeping you too long," I exclaimed, at last; "this evening air +is bad; you must go home." + +I walked along with her, up through the garden, and along the road +towards her house. I did not offer my arm, for I dared not trust myself +so near. The evening wind was cool, and I took off my hat to let it blow +upon my forehead, for my head was hot and my brain in a whirl. We came +to a stop at the gate, beneath an apple-tree, then in full bloom. I +think now that my mind at that time was not--exactly sound. The severe +mental discipline which I had forced upon myself, the long striving to +subdue the strongest feelings of a man's heart, together with my real +heart-grief at my mother's death, were enough, certainly, to craze any +one. I _was_ crazy; for I only meant to say "Good-bye," but I said, +"Good-bye, Jane; I would give the world to stay, but I must go." I +thought I was going to take her hand; but, instead of that, I took her +face between my own two hands, and turned it up towards mine. First I +kissed her cheeks. "That is for the pink," I said. Then her eyes. "And +that is for the blue. And now I go. You won't care, will you, Jane, that +I kissed you? I shall never trouble you any more; you know you will +never see me again. Good-bye, Jane!" + +I grasped her hand tightly and turned away. I thought I was off, but she +did not let go my hand. I paused, as if to hear what she had to say. She +had hitherto spoken but little; she had no need, for I had talked with +all the rapidity of insanity. She tried to speak now, but her voice was +husky, and she almost whispered. + +"Why do you go?" she asked. + +"Because I _must_, Jane," I replied. "I _must_ go." + +"And _why_ must you go?" she asked. + +"Oh, Jane, don't ask me why I must go; you wouldn't, if you knew"-- + +There I stopped. She spoke again. There was a strange tone in her voice, +and I could feel that she was trembling all over. + +"_Don't_ go, Henry." + +Never before had she called me Henry, and this, together with her strong +emotion and the desire she expressed for me to stay, shot a bright +thought of joy through my soul. It was the very first moment that I +had entertained the possibility of her caring for me. I seemed another +being. Strange thoughts flashed like lightning across my mind. My +resolve was taken. + +"Who cares whether I go or stay?" I asked. + +"_I_ care," said she. + +I took both her hands in mine, and, looking full in her face, said, in a +low voice,-- + +"Jane, _how much_ do you care?" + +"A whole heart full," she replied, in a voice as low and as earnest as +my own. + +She was leaning on the fence; I leaned back beside her, for I grew sick +and faint, thinking of the great joy that might be coming. + +"Jane," said I, solemnly, "you wouldn't _marry me_, would you?" + +"Certainly not," she replied. "How can I, when you have never asked me?" + +"Jane," said I, and my voice sounded strange even to myself, "I hope you +are not trifling;--you never would dare, did you know the state I am in, +that I _have_ been in for--oh, so long! But I can't have hidden all my +love. Can't you see how my life almost is hanging upon your answer? +Jane, do you love me, and will you be my wife?" + +"Henry," she replied, softly, but firmly, "I _do_ love you. I have loved +you a long, long time, and I shall be proud to be your wife, if--you +think me worthy." + +It was more than I could bear. The sleepless nights, the days of almost +entire fasting, together with all my troubles, had been too much for me. +I was weak in body and in mind. + +"Oh, Jane!" was all I could say. Then, leaning my head upon her +shoulder, I cried like a child. It didn't seem childish then. + +"Oh, but, Henry, I won't, then, if you feel so badly about it," said +she, half laughing. Then, changing her tone, she begged me to become +calm. But in vain. The barriers were broken down, and the tide of +emotion, long suppressed, must gush forth. She evidently came to this +conclusion. She stood quiet and silent, and at last began timidly +stroking my hair. I shall never forget the first touch of her hand upon +my forehead. It soothed me, or else my emotion was spent; for, after a +while, I became quite still. + +"Oh, Jane," I whispered, "my sorrow I could bear; but this strange +happiness overwhelms me. Can it be true? Oh, it is a fearful thing to be +so happy! How came you to love me, Jane? You are so beautiful, and I--I +am so"---- + +"You are so good, Henry!" she exclaimed, earnestly,--"too good for me! +You are a true-hearted, noble soul, worthy the love of any woman. If you +weren't so bashful," she continued, in a lower tone, "I should not say +so much; but--do you suppose nobody is happy but yourself? There is +somebody who scarcely more than an hour ago was weeping bitter tears, +feeling that the greatest joy of her life was gone forever. But now her +joy has returned to her, her heart is glad, she trembles with happiness. +Oh, Henry, 'it is a fearful thing to be so happy!'" + +I could not answer; so I drew her close up to me. She was mine now, and +why should I not press her closely to my heart,--that heart so brimful +of love for her? There was a little bench at the foot of the apple-tree, +and there I made her sit down by me and answer the many eager questions +I had to ask. I forgot all about the dampness and the evening air. +She told how her mother had liked me from the first,--how they were +informed, by some few acquaintances they had made in the village, of my +early disappointment, and also of the peculiar state of mind into which +I was thrown by those early troubles; but when she began to love me she +couldn't tell. She had often thought I cared for her,--mentioned the day +when I found her at my mother's bedside, also the day of the funeral; +but so well had I controlled my feelings that she was never sure until +that night. + +"I trust you will not think me unmaidenly, Henry," said she, looking +timidly up in my face. "You won't think worse of me, will you, for--for +almost offering myself to you?" + +There was but one answer to this, and I failed not to give it. 'Twas a +very earnest answer, and she drew back a little. Her voice grew lower +and lower, while she told how, at my shaking hands the night before, she +almost fainted,--how she longed to say "Stay," but dared not, for I was +so stiff and cold: how could she say, "Don't go, Mr. Allen; please stay +and marry me"?--how she passed a wretched night and day, and walked out +at evening to be alone,--how she felt that she could go nowhere but to +my mother's grave,--and, finally, how overwhelmed with joy she was when +I came upon her so suddenly. + +All this she told me, speaking softly and slowly, for which I was +thankful; for I liked to feel the sweet words of healing, dropping one +by one upon my heart. + +In the midst of our talk, we heard the front-door of the house open. + +"They are coming to look for me," said Jane. "You will go in?" + +Hand in hand we walked up the pathway. We met Ellen half-way down. She +started with surprise at seeing me. + +"Why, Mr. Allen!" she exclaimed, "I thought you a hundred miles off. +Why, Jane, mother was afraid you had fallen down the well." + +She tripped gayly into the house. + +"Mother!" she called out,--"you sent me for one, and I have brought you +two." + +Jane and I walked in hand in hand; for I would not let her go. Her +mother looked surprised, but well pleased. + +"Mrs. Wood," said I, "Jane has asked me to stay, and I am going to." + +Nothing more was needed; our faces told the rest. + +"Now Heaven be praised," she replied, "that we are still to have you +with us! I could not help thinking, that, if you only knew how much we +cared for you, you would not have been in such a hurry to leave us." And +she glanced significantly towards Jane. + +The rest of the evening was spent in the most interesting explanations. +I passed the night at the village inn, as I had intended,--passed it, +not in sleep, but in planning and replanning, and in trying to persuade +myself that "Pink and Blue" was my own to keep. + +The next day I spent at the Woods'. It was the first really happy day of +my life. In the afternoon, I took a long walk with Jane, through green +lanes, and orchards white and fragrant with blossoms. In the evening, +the family assembled, and we held sweet council together. It was decided +unanimously, that, situated as I was, there was no reason for delaying +the wedding,--that I should repossess myself of the furniture I had +given away, by giving new in exchange, the old being dearer to both Jane +and myself,--and, finally, that our wedding should be very quiet, and +should take place as soon as Jane could be got ready. Through it all I +sat like one in a dream, assenting to everything, for everything seemed +very desirable. + +As soon as possible, I reopened my house, and established myself there +with the same little servant. It took Jane about a month to get ready, +and it took me some years to feel wholly my own happiness. + +The old house is still standing; but after Mrs. Wood died, and Ellen was +married, we moved into the village; for the railroad came very near us, +cutting right through the path "across the field." I had the bodies of +my father and mother removed to the new cemetery. + +My wife has been to me a lifelong blessing, my heart's joy and comfort. +They who have not tried it can never know how much love there is in a +woman's heart. The pink still lingers on her cheek, and her blue eye has +that same expression which so bewitched me in my younger days. The spell +has never been broken. I am an old man and she is an old woman, and, +though I don't do it before folks, lest they call us two old fools, yet, +when I come in and find her all alone, I am free to own that I do hug +and kiss her, and always mean to. If anybody is inclined to laugh, let +him just come and see how beautiful she is. + +Our sons are away now, and all our daughters are married but one. I'm +glad they haven't taken her,--she looks so much as her mother did when I +first knew her. Her name is Jane Wood Allen. She goes in the village by +the name of Jennie Allen; but I like Jane better,--Jane Wood. + +That is a true account of "How I won my wife." + + + + +POMEGRANATE-FLOWERS. + + + The street was narrow, close, and dark, + And flanked with antique masonry, + The shelving eaves left for an ark + But one long strip of summer sky. + But one long line to bless the eye-- + The thin white cloud lay not so high, + Only some brown bird, skimming nigh, + From wings whence all the dew was dry + Shook down a dream of forest scents, + Of odorous blooms and sweet contents, + Upon the weary passers-by. + + Ah, few but haggard brows had part + Below that street's uneven crown, + And there the murmurs of the mart + Swarmed faint as hums of drowsy noon. + With voices chiming in quaint tune + From sun-soaked hulls long wharves adown, + The singing sailors rough and brown + Won far melodious renown, + Here, listening children ceasing play, + And mothers sad their well-a-way, + In this old breezy sea-board town. + + Ablaze on distant banks she knew, + Spreading their bowls to catch the sun, + Magnificent Dutch tulips grew + With pompous color overrun. + By light and snow from heaven won + Their misty web azaleas spun; + Low lilies pale as any nun, + Their pensile bells rang one by one; + And spicing all the summer air + Gold honeysuckles everywhere + Their trumpets blew in unison. + + Than where blood-cored carnations stood + She fancied richer hues might be, + Scents rarer than the purple hood + Curled over in the fleur-de-lis. + Small skill in learned names had she, + Yet whatso wealth of land or sea + Had ever stored her memory, + She decked its varied imagery + Where, in the highest of the row + Upon a sill more white than snow, + She nourished a pomegranate-tree. + + Some lover from a foreign clime, + Some roving gallant of the main, + Had brought it on a gay spring-time, + And told her of the nacar stain + The thing would wear when bloomed again. + Therefore all garden growths in vain + Their glowing ranks swept through her brain, + The plant was knit by subtile chain + To all the balm of Southern zones, + The incenses of Eastern thrones, + The tinkling hem of Aaron's train. + + The almond shaking in the sun + On some high place ere day begin, + Where winds of myrrh and cinnamon + Between the tossing plumes have been, + It called before her, and its kin + The fragrant savage balaustine + Grown from the ruined ravelin + That tawny leopards couch them in; + But this, if rolling in from seas + It only caught the salt-fumed breeze, + Would have a grace they might not win. + + And for the fruit that it should bring, + One globe she pictured, bright and near, + Crimson, and throughly perfuming + All airs that brush its shining sphere. + In its translucent atmosphere + Afrite and Princess reappear,-- + Through painted panes the scattered spear + Of sunrise scarce so warm and clear,-- + And pulped with such a golden juice, + Ambrosial, that one cannot choose + But find the thought most sumptuous cheer. + + Of all fair women she was queen, + And all her beauty, late and soon, + O'ercame you like the mellow sheen + Of some serene autumnal noon. + Her presence like a sweetest tune + Accorded all your thoughts in one. + Than last year's alder-tufts in June + Browner, yet lustrous as a moon + Her eyes glowed on you, and her hair + With such an air as princes wear + She trimmed black-braided in a crown. + + A perfect peace prepared her days, + Few were her wants and small her care, + No weary thoughts perplexed her ways, + She hardly knew if she were fair. + + Bent lightly at her needle there + In that small room stair over stair, + All fancies blithe and debonair + She deftly wrought on fabrics rare, + All clustered moss, all drifting snow, + All trailing vines, all flowers that blow, + Her daedal fingers laid them bare. + + Still at the slowly spreading leaves + She glanced up ever and anon, + If yet the shadow of the eaves + Had paled the dark gloss they put on. + But while her smile like sunlight shone, + The life danced to such blossom blown + That all the roses ever known, + Blanche of Provence, Noisette, or Yonne, + Wore no such tint as this pale streak + That damasked half the rounding cheek + Of each bud great to bursting grown. + + And when the perfect flower lay free, + Like some great moth whose gorgeous wings + Fan o'er the husk unconsciously, + Silken, in airy balancings,-- + She saw all gay dishevellings + Of fairy flags, whose revellings + Illumine night's enchanted rings. + So royal red no blood of kings + She thought, and Summer in the room + Sealed her escutcheon on their bloom, + In the glad girl's imaginings. + + Now, said she, in the heart of the woods + The sweet south-winds assert their power, + And blow apart the snowy snoods + Of trilliums in their thrice-green bower. + Now all the swamps are flushed with dower + Of viscid pink, where, hour by hour, + The bees swim amorous, and a shower + Reddens the stream where cardinals tower. + Far lost in fern of fragrant stir + Her fancies roam, for unto her + All Nature came in this one flower. + + Sometimes she set it on the ledge + That it might not be quite forlorn + Of wind and sky, where o'er the edge, + Some gaudy petal, slowly borne, + Fluttered to earth in careless scorn, + Caught, for a fallen piece of morn + From kindling vapors loosely shorn, + By urchins ragged and wayworn, + Who saw, high on the stone embossed, + A laughing face, a hand that tossed + A prodigal spray just freshly torn. + + What wizard hints across them fleet,-- + These heirs of all the town's thick sin, + Swift gypsies of the tortuous street, + With childhood yet on cheek and chin! + What voices dropping through the din + An airy murmuring begin,-- + These floating flakes, so fine and thin, + Were they and rock-laid earth akin? + Some woman of the gods was she, + The generous maiden in her glee? + And did whole forests grow within? + + A tissue rare as the hoar-frost, + White as the mists spring dawns condemn, + The shadowy wrinkles round her lost, + She wrought with branch and anadem, + Through the fine meshes netting them, + Pomegranate-flower and leaf and stem. + Dropping it o'er her diadem + To float below her gold-stitched hem, + Some duchess through the court should sail + Hazed in the cloud of this white veil, + As when a rain-drop mists a gem. + + Her tresses once when this was done, + --Vanished the skein, the needle bare,-- + She dressed with wreaths vermilion + Bright as a trumpet's dazzling blare. + Nor knew that in Queen Dido's hair, + Loading the Carthaginian air, + Ancestral blossoms flamed as fair + As any ever hanging there. + While o'er her cheek their scarlet gleam + Shot down a vivid varying beam, + Like sunshine on a brown-bronzed pear. + + And then the veil thrown over her, + The vapor of the snowy lace + Fell downward, as the gossamer + Tossed from the autumn winds' wild race + Falls round some garden-statue's grace. + Beneath, the blushes on her face + Fled with the Naiad's shifting chase + When flashing through a watery space. + And in the dusky mirror glanced + A splendid phantom, where there danced + All brilliances in paler trace. + + A spicery of sweet perfume, + As if from regions rankly green + And these rich hoards of bud and bloom, + Lay every waft of air between. + Out of some heaven's unfancied screen + The gorgeous vision seemed to lean. + The Oriental kings have seen + Less beauty in their dais-queen, + And any limner's pencil then + Had drawn the eternal love of men, + But twice Chance will not intervene. + + For soon with scarce a loving sigh + She lifts it off half unaware, + While through the clinging folds held high, + Arachnean in a silver snare + Her rosy fingers nimbly fare, + Till gathered square with dainty care. + But still she leaves the flowery flare + --Such as Dame Venus' self might wear-- + Where first she placed them, since they blow + More bounteous color hanging so, + And seem more native to the air. + + Anon the mellow twilight came + With breath of quiet gently freed + From sunset's felt but unseen flame. + Then by her casement wheeled in speed + Strange films, and half the wings indeed + That steam in rainbows o'er the mead, + Now magnified in mystery, lead + Great revolutions to her heed. + And leaning out, the night o'erhead, + Wind-tossed in many a shining thread, + Hung one long scarf of glittering brede. + + Then as it drew its streamers there, + And furled its sails to fill and flaunt + Along fresh firmaments of air + When ancient morn renewed his chant,-- + She sighed in thinking on the plant + Drooping so languidly aslant; + Fancied some fierce noon's forest-haunt + Where wild red things loll forth and pant, + Their golden antlers wave, and still + Sigh for a shower that shall distil + The largess gracious nights do grant. + + The oleanders in the South + Drape gray hills with their rose, she thought, + The yellow-tasselled broom through drouth + Bathing in half a heaven is caught. + Jasmine and myrtle flowers are sought + By winds that leave them fragrance-fraught. + To them the wild bee's path is taught, + The crystal spheres of rain are brought, + Beside them on some silent spray + The nightingales sing night away, + The darkness wooes them in such sort. + + But this, close shut beneath a roof, + Knows not the night, the tranquil spell, + The stillness of the wildwood ouphe, + The magic dropped on moor and fell. + No cool dew soothes its fiery shell, + Nor any star, a red sardel, + Swings painted there as in a well. + Dyed like a stream of muscadel + No white-skinned snake coils in its cup + To drink its soul of sweetness up, + A honeyed hermit in his cell. + + No humming-bird in emerald coat, + Shedding the light, and bearing fain + His ebon spear, while at his throat + The ruby corselet sparkles plain, + On wings of misty speed astain + With amber lustres, hangs amain, + And tireless hums his happy strain; + Emperor of some primeval reign, + Over the ages sails to spill + The luscious juice of this, and thrill + Its very heart with blissful pain. + + As if the flowers had taken flight + Or as the crusted gems should shoot + From hidden hollows, or as the light + Had blossomed into prisms to flute + Its secret that before was mute, + Atoms where fire and tint dispute, + No humming-birds here hunt their fruit. + No burly bee with banded suit + Here dusts him, no full ray by stealth + Sifts through it stained with warmer wealth + Where fair fierce butterflies salute. + + Nor night nor day brings to my tree, + She thought, the free air's choice extremes, + But yet it grows as joyfully + And floods my chamber with its beams, + So that some tropic land it seems + Where oranges with ruddy gleams, + And aloes, whose weird flowers the creams + Of long rich centuries one deems, + Wave through the softness of the gloom,-- + And these may blush a deeper bloom + Because they gladden so my dreams. + + The sudden street-lights in moresque + Broke through her tender murmuring, + And on her ceiling shades grotesque + Reeled in a bacchanalian swing. + Then all things swam, and like a ring + Of bubbles welling from a spring + Breaking in deepest coloring + Flower-spirits paid her minist'ring. + Sleep, fusing all her senses, soon + Fanned over her in drowsy rune + All night long a pomegranate wing. + + * * * * * + + +THE PRAIRIE STATE. + + +On the head-waters of the Wabash, near Lake Erie, we first meet with +those grassy plains to which the early French explorers of the West gave +the name of Prairies. In Southern Michigan, they become more frequent; +in the State of Indiana, still more so; and when we arrive in Illinois, +we find ourselves in the Prairie State proper, three-quarters of its +territory being open meadow, or prairie. Southern Wisconsin is partly of +this character, and, on crossing the Mississippi, most of the surface of +both Iowa and Minnesota is also prairie. + +Illinois, with little exception, is one vast prairie,--dotted, it is +true, with groves, and intersected with belts of timber, but still one +great open plain. This State, then, being the type of the prairie lands, +a sketch of its history, political, physical, and agricultural, will +tolerably well represent that of the whole prairie region. + +The State of Illinois was originally part of Florida, and belonged to +Spain, by the usual tenure of European title in the sixteenth century, +when the King of France or Spain was endowed by His Holiness with half +a continent; the rights of the occupants of the soil never for a moment +being considered. So the Spaniard, in 1541, having planted his flag at +the mouth of the Mississippi, became possessed of the whole of the vast +region watered by its tributary streams, and Illinois and Wisconsin +became Spanish colonies, and all their native inhabitants vassals of His +Most Catholic Majesty. The settlement of the country was, however, +never attempted by the Spaniards, who devoted themselves to their more +lucrative colonies in South America. + +The French missionaries and fur-traders found their way from Canada into +these parts at an early day; and in 1667 Robert de la Salle made his +celebrated explorations, in which he took possession of the territory of +Illinois in behalf of the French crown. And here we may remark, that the +relations of the Jesuits and early explorers give a delightful picture +of the native inhabitants of the prairies. Compared with their savage +neighbors, the Illini seem to have been a favored people. The climate +was mild, and the soil so fertile as to afford liberal returns even to +their rude husbandry; the rivers and lakes abounded in fish and fowl; +the groves swarmed with deer and turkeys,--bustards the French called +them, after the large gallinaceous bird which they remembered on the +plains of Normandy; and the vast expanse of the prairies was blackened +by herds of wild cattle, or buffaloes. The influence of this fair and +fertile land seems to have been felt by its inhabitants. They came to +meet Father Marquette, offering the calumet, brilliant with many-colored +plumes, with the gracious greeting,--"How beautiful is the sun, O +Frenchman, when thou comest to us! Thou shalt enter in peace all our +dwellings." A very different reception from that offered by the stern +savages of Jamestown and Plymouth to John Smith and Miles Standish! +So, in peace and plenty, remained for many years this paradise in the +prairies. + +About the year 1700, Illinois was included in Louisiana, and came under +the sway of Louis XIV., who, in 1712, presented to Anthony Crozat the +whole territory of Louisiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin,--a truly royal +gift! + +The fortunate recipient, however, having spent vast sums upon the +territory without any returns, surrendered his grant to the crown a +few years afterwards; and a trading company, called the Company of the +Indies, was got up by the famous John Law, on the basis of these lands. +The history of that earliest of Western land-speculations is too well +known to need repetition; suffice it to say, that it was conducted upon +a scale of magnificence in comparison with which our modern imitations +in 1836 and 1856 were feeble indeed. A monument of it stood not many +years ago upon the banks of the Mississippi, in the ruins of Fort +Chartres, which was built by Law when at the height of his fortune, at +a cost of several millions of livres, and which toppled over into the +river in a recent inundation. + +In 1759 the French power in North America was broken forever by Wolfe, +upon the Plains of Abraham; and in 1763, by the Treaty of Paris, all the +French possessions upon this continent were ceded to England, and the +territory of the Illinois became part of the British empire. + +Pontiac, the famous Ottawa chief, after fighting bravely on the French +side through the war, refused to be transferred with the territory; he +repaired to Illinois, where he was killed by a Peoria Indian. His tribe, +the Ottawas, with their allies, the Pottawattomies and Chippewas, +in revenge, made war upon the Peorias and their confederates, the +Kaskaskias and Cahoklas, in which contest these latter tribes were +nearly exterminated. + +At this time, the French population of Illinois amounted to about three +thousand persons, who were settled along the Mississippi and Illinois +rivers, where their descendants remain to this day, preserving a +well-defined national character in the midst of the great flood of +Anglo-American immigration which rolls around them. + +Illinois remained under British rule till the year 1778, when George +Rogers Clarke, with four companies of Virginia rangers, marched from +Williamsburg, a distance of thirteen hundred miles, through a hostile +wilderness, captured the British posts of Kaskaskia and Cahokia, and +annexed a territory larger than Great Britain to the new Republic. Many +of Colonel Clarke's rangers, pleased with the beauty and fertility of +the country, settled in Illinois; but the Indians were so numerous and +hostile, that the settlers were obliged to live in fortified stations, +or block-houses, and the population remained very scanty for many years. + +In 1809 Illinois was made into a separate Territory, and Ninian Edwards +appointed its first Governor. + +During the War of 1812, Tecumseh, an Indian chief of remarkable ability, +endeavored to form a coalition of all the tribes against the Americans, +but with only partial success. He inflicted severe losses upon them, +but was finally defeated and slain at the Battle of the Thames, leaving +behind him the reputation of being the greatest hero and noblest patriot +of his race. + +In 1818, Illinois, then having a population of about forty-five +thousand, was admitted into the Union. The State was formed out of that +territory which by the Ordinance of 1787 was dedicated to freedom; but +there was a strong party in the State who wished for the introduction +of slavery, and in order to effect this it was necessary to call a +convention to amend the Constitution. On this arose a desperate contest +between the two principles, and it ended in the triumph of freedom. +Among those opposed to the introduction of slavery were Morris Birkbeck, +Governor Coles, David Blackwell, Judge Lockwood, and Daniel P. Cook. +It was a fitting memorial of the latter, that the County of Cook, +containing the great commercial city of Chicago, should bear his name. +The names of the pro-slavery leaders we will leave to oblivion. + +In 1824 the lead mines near Galena began to be worked to advantage, +and thousands of persons from Southern Illinois and Missouri swarmed +thither. The Illinoisans ran up the river in the spring, worked in the +mines during the summer, and returned to their homes down the river in +the autumn,--thus resembling in their migrations the fish so common in +the Western waters, called the Sucker. It was also observed that great +hordes of uncouth ruffians came up to the mines from Missouri, and it +was therefore said that she had vomited forth all her worst population. +Thenceforth the Missourians were called "Pukes," and the people of +Illinois "Suckers." + +From 1818 to 1830, the commerce of the State made but small progress. +At this time, there were one or two small steamboats upon the Illinois +River, but most of the navigation was carried on in keel-boats. The +village merchants were mere retailers; they purchased no produce, except +a few skins and furs, and a little beeswax and honey. The farmers along +the rivers did their own shipping,--building flat-boats, which, having +loaded with corn, flour, and bacon, they would float down to New +Orleans, which was the only market accessible to them. The voyage was +long, tedious, and expensive, and when the farmer arrived, he found +himself in a strange city, where all were combined against him, and +often he was cheated out of his property,--returning on foot by a long +and dangerous journey to a desolate farm, which had been neglected +during his absence. Thus two crops were sometimes lost in taking one to +market. + +The manners and customs of the people were simple and primitive. The +costume of the men was a raccoon-skin cap, linsey hunting-shirt, +buck-skin leggings and moccasons, with a butcher-knife in the belt. +The women wore cotton or woollen frocks, striped with blue dye and +Turkey-red, and spun, woven, and made with their own hands; they went +barefooted and bareheaded, except on Sundays, when they covered the head +with a cotton handkerchief. It is told of a certain John Grammar, for +many years a representative from Union County, and a man of some note +in the State councils, though he could neither read nor write, that in +1816, when he was first elected, lacking the necessary apparel, he and +his sons gathered a large quantity of hazel-nuts, which they took to +the nearest town and sold for enough blue strouding to make a suit of +clothes. The pattern proved to be scanty, and the women of the household +could only get out a very bob-tailed coat and leggings. With these Mr. +Grammar started for Kaskaskia, the seat of government, and these he +continued to wear till the passage of an appropriation bill enabled him +to buy a civilized pair of breeches. + +The distinctions in manners and dress between the higher and lower +classes were more marked than at present; for while John Grammar wore +blue strouding, we are told that Governor Edwards dressed in fine +broadcloth, white-topped boots, and a gold-laced cloak, and rode about +the country in a fine carriage, driven by a negro. + +In those days justice was administered without much parade or ceremony. +The judges held their courts mostly in log houses or in the bar-rooms of +taverns, fitted up with a temporary bench for the judge, and chairs for +the lawyers and jurors. At the first Circuit Court in Washington County, +held by Judge John Reynolds, the sheriff, on opening the court, went out +into the yard, and said to the people, "Boys, come in; our John is going +to hold court." The judges were unwilling to decide questions of law, +preferring to submit everything to the jury, and seldom gave them +instructions, if they could avoid it. A certain judge, being ambitious +to show his learning, gave very pointed directions to the jury, but +they could not agree on a verdict. The judge asked the cause of their +difference, when the foreman answered with great simplicity,--"Why, +Judge, this 'ere's the difficulty: the jury wants to know whether that +'ar what you told us, when we went out, was r'aly the law, or whether it +was on'y jist your notion." + +In the spring of 1831, Black Hawk, a Sac chief, dissatisfied with the +treaty by which his tribe had been removed across the Mississippi, +recrossed the river at the head of three or four hundred warriors, and +drove away the white settlers from his old lands near the mouth of the +Rock River. This was considered an invasion of the State, and Governor +Reynolds called for volunteers. Fifteen hundred men answered the +summons, and the Indians were driven out. The next spring, however, +Black Hawk returned with a larger force, and commenced hostilities by +killing some settlers on Indian Creek, not far from Ottawa. A large +force of volunteers was again called out, but in the first encounter the +whites were beaten, which success encouraged the Sacs and Foxes so much +that they spread themselves over the whole of the country between the +Mississippi and the Lake, and kept up a desultory warfare for three or +four months against the volunteer troops. About the middle of July, a +body of volunteers under General Henry of Illinois pursued the Indians +into Wisconsin, and by forced marches brought them to action near the +Mississippi, before the United States troops, under General Atkinson, +could come up. The Indians fought desperately, but were unable to stand +long before the courage and superior numbers of the whites. They escaped +across the river with the loss of nearly three hundred, killed in the +action, or drowned in the retreat. The loss of the Illinois volunteers +was about thirty, killed and wounded. + +This defeat entirely broke the power of the Sacs and Foxes, and they +sued for peace. Black Hawk, and some of his head men, were taken +prisoners, and kept in confinement for several months, when, after a +tour through the country, to show them the numbers and power of the +whites, they were set at liberty on the west side of the Mississippi. In +1840 Black Hawk died, at the age of eighty years, on the banks of the +great river which he loved so well. + +After the Black-Hawk War, the Indian title being extinguished, and the +country open to settlers, Northern Illinois attracted great attention, +and increased wonderfully in wealth and population. + +In 1830, the population of the State amounted to 157,445; in 1840, to +476,183; in 1850, to 851,470; in 1860, to 1,719,496. + + * * * * * + +Situated in the centre of the United States, the State of Illinois +extends from 37 deg. to 42 deg. 30' N. latitude, and from 10 deg. 47' to 14 deg. 26' W. +longitude from Washington. The State is 378 miles long from North to +South, and 212 miles broad from East to West. Its area is computed at +55,408 square miles, or 35,459,200 acres, less than two millions of +which are called swamp lands, the remaining thirty-three millions being +tillable land of unsurpassed fertility. + +The State of Illinois forms the lower part of that slope which embraces +the greater part of Indiana, and of which Lake Michigan, with its +shores, forms the upper part. At the lowest part of this slope, and of +the State, is the city of Cairo, situated about 350 feet above the +level of the Gulf of Mexico, at the confluence of the Ohio and the +Mississippi; hence, the highest place in Illinois being only 800 feet +above the level of the sea, it will appear that the whole State, though +containing several hilly sections, is a pretty level plain, being, with +the exception of Delaware and Louisiana, the flattest country in the +Union. + +The State contains about twenty-five considerable streams, and brooks +and rivulets innumerable. There are no large lakes within its borders, +though it has some sixty miles of Lake Michigan for its boundary on the +east. Small clear lakes and ponds abound, particularly in the northern +portion of the State. + +As to the quality of the soil, Illinois is divided as follows:-- + +First, the alluvial land on the margins of the rivers, and extending +back from half a mile to six or eight miles. This soil is of +extraordinary fertility, and, wherever it is elevated, makes the best +farming land in the State. Where it is low, and exposed to inundations, +it is very unsafe to attempt its cultivation. The most extensive tract +of this kind is the so-called American Bottom, which received this name +when it was the western boundary of the United States. It extends from +the junction of the Kaskaskia and Mississippi, along the latter, to the +mouth of the Missouri, containing about 288,000 acres. + +Secondly, the table-land, fifty to a hundred feet higher than the +alluvial; it consists principally of prairies, which, according to their +respectively higher or lower situations, are either dry or marshy. + +Thirdly, the hilly sections of the State, which, consisting alternately +of wood and prairie, are not, on the whole, as fertile as either the +alluvial or the table-land. + +There are no mountains in Illinois; but in the southern as well as the +northern part, there are a few hills. Near the banks of the principal +rivers the ground is elevated into bluffs, on which may be still found +the traces left by water, which was evidently once much higher than +it now is; whence it is inferred, that, where the fertile plains of +Illinois now extend, there must once have been a vast sheet of water, +the mud deposited by which formed the soil, thus accounting for the +great fertility of the prairies. + + * * * * * + +As we have said, the entire area of Illinois seems at one period to +have been an ocean-bed, which has not since been disturbed by any +considerable upheaval. The present irregularities of the surface are +clearly traceable to the washing out and carrying away of the earth. The +Illinois River has washed out a valley about two hundred and fifty feet +deep, and from one and a half to six miles wide. The perfect regularity +of the beds of mountain limestone, sandstone, and coal, as they are +found protruding from the bluffs on each side of this valley, on the +same levels, is pretty conclusive evidence that the valley itself owes +its existence to the action of water. That the channels of the rivers +have been gradually sunken, we may distinctly see by the shores of the +Upper Mississippi, where are walls of rock, rising perpendicularly, +which extend from Lake Pepin to below the mouth of the Wisconsin, as if +they were walls built of equal height by the hand of man. Wherever the +river describes a curve, walls may be found on the convex side of it. + +The upper coal formation occupies three-fifths of the State, commencing +at 41 deg. 12' North latitude, where, as also along the Mississippi, whose +banks it touches between the places of its junction with the Illinois +and Missouri rivers, it is enclosed by a narrow layer of calcareous +coal. The shores of Lake Michigan, and that narrow strip of land, which, +commencing near them, runs along the northern bank of the Illinois +towards its southwestern bend, until it meets Rock River at its mouth, +belong to the Devonian system. The residue of the northern part of the +State consists of Silurian strata, which, containing the rich lead mines +of Galena in the northwest corner of the State, rise at intervals into +conical hills, giving the landscape a character different from that of +the middle or southern portion. Scattered along the banks of rivers, and +in the middle of prairies, are frequently found large masses of granite +and other primitive rocks. Since the nearest beds of primitive rocks +first appear in Minnesota and the northern part of Wisconsin, their +presence here can be accounted for only by assuming that at the time +this region was covered with water they were floated down from the +North, enclosed and supported in masses of ice, which, melting, allowed +the rocks to sink to the bottom. A still further proof of the presence +of the ocean here in former times is to be found in the sea-shells which +occur upon many of the higher knolls and bluffs west of the Mississippi +in Iowa. + +Illinois contains probably more coal than any other State in the Union. +It is mined at a small depth below the surface, and crops out upon the +banks of most of the streams in the middle of the State. These mines +have been very imperfectly worked till within a few years; but it is +found, that, as the work goes deeper, the quality of the coal improves, +and in some of the later excavations is equal to the best coals of Ohio +and Pennsylvania, and will undoubtedly prove a source of immense wealth +to the State. + +The two northwestern counties of the State form a part of the richest +and most extensive lead region in the world. During the year 1855, the +product of these mines, shipped from the single port of Galena, was +430,365 pigs of lead, worth $1,732,219.02. + +Copper has been found in large quantities in the northern counties, and +also in the southern portion of the State. Some of the zinc ores are +found in great quantities at the lead mines near Galena, but have not +yet been utilized. Silver has been found in St. Clair County, whence +Silver Creek has derived its name. It is said that in early times the +French sunk a shaft here, from which they obtained large quantities of +the metal. Iron is found in many parts of the State, and the ores have +been worked to considerable extent. + +Among other valuable mineral products may be mentioned porcelain and +potter's clay, fire clay, fuller's earth, limestone of many varieties, +sandstone, marble, and salt springs. + + * * * * * + +Illinois has an average temperature, which, if compared with that of +Europe, corresponds to that of Middle Germany; its winters are more +severe than those of Copenhagen, and its summers as warm as those of +Milan or Palermo. Compared with other States of the Union, Northern +Illinois possesses a temperature similar to that of Southern New York, +while the temperature of Southern Illinois will not differ much from +that of Kentucky or Virginia. By observations of the thermometer during +twenty years, in the southern part of the State, on the Mississippi, the +mercury, once in that period, fell to-25 deg., and four times it rose above +100 deg., Fahrenheit. + +The prevailing winds are either western or southeastern. The severest +storms are those coming from the west, which traverse the entire space +between the Rocky Mountains and the Atlantic coast in forty-eight hours. + +There are on an average eighty-nine rainy days in the year; the quantity +of rain falling amounts to forty-two inches,--the smallest amount +being in January, and the largest in June. The average number of +thunder-storms in a year is forty-nine; of clear days, one hundred and +thirty-seven; of changeable days, one hundred and eighty-three; and of +days without sunshine, forty-five. + + * * * * * + +The vegetation of the State forms the connecting link between +the Flora of the Northeastern States and that of the Upper +Mississippi,--exhibiting, besides the plants common to all the States +lying between the Mississippi and the Atlantic Ocean, such as are, +properly speaking, natives of the Western prairies, not being found +east of the Alleghany Mountains. Immense grassy plains, interlaced with +groves, which are found also along the watercourses, cover two-thirds of +the entire area of the State in the North, while the southern part is +garnished with heavy timber. + +No work which we have seen gives so good an account of the Flora of the +prairies as the one by Frederick Gerhard, called "Illinois as it is." We +have been indebted to this work for a good deal of valuable matter, and +shall now make some further extracts from it. + +"Before we finally turn our backs on the last scattered houses of the +village, we find both sides of the road lined with ugly worm-fences, +which are overtopped by the various species of Helianthus, Thistles, +Biennial Gaura, and the Illinoisian Bell-flower with cerulean blossoms, +and other tall weeds. Here may also be found the coarse-haired +_Asclepias tuberosa_, with fiery red umbels, the strong-scented _Monarda +fistulosa_, and an umbelliferous plant, the grass-like, spiculated +leaves of which recall to mind the Southern Agaves, the _Eryngo._ Among +these children of Nature rises the civilized plant, the Indian Corn, +with its stalks nearly twelve feet high." + +"Having now arrived at the end of the cultivated lands, we enter upon +the dry prairies, extending up the bluffs, where we meet the small +vermilion Sorrel _(Rumex acetosella)_ and Mouse-ear, which, however, do +not reside here as foreigners, but as natives, like many other plants +that remind the European of his native country, as, for instance, the +Dandelion _(Taraxacum officinale)_; a kind of Rose, _(Rosa lucida,)_ +with its sweet-scented blossoms, has a great predilection for this dry +soil. With surprise we meet here also with many plants with hairy, +greenish-gray leaves and stalk-covers, as, for instance, the _Onosmodium +molle, Hieracium longipilum, Pycnanthemum pilosum, Chrysopsis villosa, +Amorpha canescens, Tephrosia Virginiana, Lithospermum canescens;_ +between which the immigrated Mullein _(Verbuscum thapsus)_ may be found. +The pebbly fragments of the entire slope, which during spring-time +were sparingly covered with dwarfish herbs, such as the _Androsace +occidentalis, Draba Caroliniana, Plantago Virginica, Scutellaria +parvula,_ are now crowded with plants of taller growth and variegated +blossoms. _Rudbeckia hirta_, with its numerous radiating blossoms of a +lively yellow, and the closely allied _Echinacea purpurea_, whose long +purple rays hang down from a ruddy hemispherical disc, are the most +remarkable among plants belonging to the genus _Compositoe_, which +blossom early in summer; in the latter part of summer follow innumerable +plants of the different species,_Liatris, Vernonia, Aster, Solidago, +Helianthus, etc."_ + +"We approach a sinuous chasm of the bluffs, having better soil and +underwood, which, thin at first, increases gradually in density. +Low bushes, hardly a foot high, are formed by the American Thistle, +_(Ceanothus Americanus,)_ a plant whose leaves were used instead of tea, +in Boston, during the Revolution. Next follow the Hazel-bush, _(Corylus +Americana,)_ the fiery-red _Castilleja coccinea,_ and the yellow +Canadian Louse-wort; the _Dipteracanthus strepens_, with great blue +funnel-shaped blossoms, and the _Gerardia pedicularia_, are fond of +such places; and where the bushes grow higher, and the _Rhus glabra, +Zanthoxylum Americanum, Ptelea trifoliata, Staphylea trifolia,_ together +with _Ribes-Rubus Pyrus, Cornus, and Cratoegus,_ form an almost +impenetrable thicket, surrounded and garlanded by the round-leaved, +rough Bindweed, _(Smilax rotundifolia,)_ and _Dioscorea villosa_, the +Climbing Rose, _(Rosa setigera,) Celastrus scandens_, remarkable for its +beautiful red fruits, _Clematis Virginiana, Polygonum, Convolvulus, and +other vines, these weedy herbs attempt to overtop the bushes." + +"We now enter upon the illimitable prairie which lies before us, the +fertile prairie, in whose undulating surface the moisture is retained; +this waits for cultivation, and will soon be deprived of its flowery +attire, and bear plain, but indispensable grain. Those who have not yet +seen such a prairie should not imagine it like a cultivated meadow, but +rather a heaving sea of tall herbs and plants, decking it with every +variety of color. + +"In the summer, the yellow of the large _Composite_ will predominate, +intermingled with the blue of the Tradescantias, the fiery red of the +Lilies, (_Lilium Philadelphicum_ and _Lilium Canadense_,) the purple of +the Phlox, the white of the _Cacalia tuberosa, Melanthium Virginicum,_ +and the umbelliferous plants. In spring, small-sized plants bloom here, +such as the Anemone, with its blue and white blossoms, the Palmated +Violet, the Ranunculus, which are the first ornaments of the prairies in +spring; then follow the Esculent Sea-Onion, _Pentaloplius longiflorus, +Lithospermum hirtum, Cynthia Virginica,_ and _Baptisia leucophaea_. +As far as the eye reaches, no house nor tree can be seen; but where +civilization has come, the farmer has planted small rows of the quickly +growing Black Acacia, which affords shelter from the sun to his cattle +and fuel for his hearth." + +"We now enter the level part of the forest, which has a rich black soil. +Great sarmentous plants climb here up to the tops of the trees: wild +Grapes, the climbing, poisonous Sumach, (_Rhus toxicodendron,_) and the +vine-like Cinque-foil, which transforms withered, naked trunks into +green columns, Bignonias, with their brilliant scarlet trumpet-flowers, +are the most remarkable. The _Thuja occidentalis,_ which may be met +with in European gardens, stands in mournful solitude on the margins of +pools; here and there an isolalod Cedar, (_Juniperus Virginiana_) +and the low Box-tree, (_Taxus Canadensis_) are in Illinois the only +representatives of the evergreens, forests of which first appear in the +northern part of Wisconsin and Minnesota." + +"Flowers of the most brilliant hues bedeck the rivers' banks; above +all, the _Lobelia cardinalis_ and _Lobelia syphilitica_, of the deepest +carmine and cerulean tinge, the yellow _Cassia Marilandica_, and the +delicate _Rosa blanda_, a rose without thorns; also the _Scrophularia +nodosa_." + +"On the marshy ground thrive the _Iris versicolor, Asclepias incarnata_, +the Primrose-tree, Liver-wort, the tall _Physostegia Virginiana_, with +rosy-red blossoms, and the _Helenium autumnale_, in which the yellow +color predominates. In spring, the dark violet blossom of the _Amorpha +fruticosa_ diffuses its fragrance." + +"Entering a boat on the river, where we cannot touch the bottom with the +oar, we perceive a little white flower waving to and fro, supported +by long spiral halms between straight, grass-like leaves. This is the +_Vallisneria spiralis_, a remarkable plant, which may be also met with +in Southern Europe, especially in the Canal of Languedoc, and regarding +the fructification of which different opinions prevail." + +"Nearer to the land, we observe similar grass-like leaves, but with +little yellow stellated flowers: these belong to the order of _Schollera +graminea_. Other larger leaves belong to the Amphibious Polygony, and +different species of the _Potamogeton,_ the ears of whose blossoms rise +curiously above the surface of the water. Clearing our way through a +row of tall swamp weeds, _Zizania aquatica, Scirpus lacustris, Scirpus +pungens_, among which the white flowers of _Sparganium ramosum_ and +_Sagittaria variabilis_ are conspicuous, we steer into a large inlet +entirely covered with the broad leaves of the _Nymphaea odorala_ and the +_Nelumbium luteum_, of which the former waves its beautiful flower on +the surface of the river, while the latter, the queen, in fact, of +the waters, proudly raises her magnificent crown upon a perpendicular +footstalk. On the opposite bank, the evening breeze lifts the triangular +leaves and rosy-red flowers of the Marsh-Mallow, overhung by Gray +Willows and the Silver-leaved Maple and the Red Maple, on which a flock +of white herons have alighted." + +In all the rivers and swamps of the Northwest grows the Wild Rice, +(_Zizania aquatica,_) a plant which was' formerly very important to the +Indians as food, and now attracts vast flocks of waterfowl to feed upon +it in the season. In autumn the squaws used to go in their canoes +to these natural rice-fields, and, bending the tall stalks over the +gunwale, beat out the heads of grain with their paddles into the canoe. +It is mentioned among the dainties at Hiawatha's wedding-feast:-- + + "Haunch of deer, and hump of bison, + Yellow cakes of the Momdamin, + And the wild rice of the river." + +The Fruits of the forest are Strawberries, Blackberries, Raspberries, +Gooseberries, in some barren spots Whortleberries, Mulberries, +Grapes, Wild Plums and Cherries, Crab-Apples, the Persimmon, Pawpaw, +Hickory-nuts, Hazel-nuts, and Walnuts. + +The Timber-trees are,--of the Oaks, _Quercus alba, Quercus macrocarpa, +Quercus tinctoria, Quercus imbricaria,--Hard and Soft Maples_,--and of +the Hickories, _Carya alba, Carya tomentosa, and Carya amara_. Other +useful timber-trees are the Ash, Cherry, several species of Elm, Linden, +and Ironwood (_Carpinus Americana_). + +Of Medicinal Plants, we find _Cassia Marilandica, Polygala Senega, +Sanguinaria Canadensis, Lobelia inflata, Phytolacca decandra, +Podophyllum peliatum, Sassafras officinale_. + +Various species of the Vine are native here, and the improved varieties +succeed admirably in the southern counties. + +The early travellers in this region mention the great herds of wild +cattle which roamed over the prairies in those times, but the last +Buffalo on the east side of the Mississippi was killed in 1832; and now +the hunter who would see this noble game must travel some hundreds of +miles west, to the head-waters of the Kansas or the Platte. The Elk, +which was once so common in Illinois, has also receded before the white +man, and the Deer is fast following his congener. On the great prairies +south of Chicago, where, fifteen years ago, one might find twenty deer +in a day's tramp, not one is now to be seen. Two species of Hare occur +here, and several Tree Squirrels, the Red, Black, Gray, Mottled, and the +Flying; besides these, there are two or three which live under ground. +The Beaver is nearly or quite extinct, but the Otter remains, and the +Musk-Rat abounds on all the river-banks and marshes. + +Of carnivorous animals, we have the Panther and Black Bear in the wooded +portions of the State, though rare; the Lynx, the Gray and Black Wolf, +and the Prairie Wolf; the Skunk, the Badger, the Woodchuck, the Raccoon, +and, in the southern part of the State, the Opossum. + +Mr. Lapham of Wisconsin has published a list of the birds of that State, +which will also answer for Northern Illinois. He enumerates two hundred +and ninety species, which, we think, is below the number which visit the +central parts of Illinois. From the central position of this State, +most of the birds of the United States are found here at one season or +another. For instance, among the rapacious birds, we have the three +Eagles which visit America, the White-Headed, the Washington, and +the Golden or Royal Eagle. Of Hawks and Falcons, fourteen or fifteen +species, among which are the beautiful Swallow-tailed Hawk, and that +noble falcon, the Peregrine. Ten or twelve Owls, among which, as a rare +visitor, we find the Great Gray Owl, (_Syrnium cinereum_,) and the Snowy +Owl, which is quite common in the winter season on the prairies, preying +upon grouse and hares. Of the Vultures, we have two, as summer visitors, +the Turkey-Buzzard and the Black Vulture. + +Of omnivorous birds, sixteen or eighteen species, among which is the +Raven, which here takes the place of the Crow, the two species not being +able to live together, as the stronger robber drives away the weaker. Of +the insectivorous birds, some sixty or seventy species are found here, +among which is the Mocking-Bird, in the middle and southern districts. +Thirty-five to forty species of granivorous birds, among which we +occasionally find in winter that rare Arctic bird, the Evening Grosbeak. +Of the _Zygodachyli_, fourteen species, among which is found the Paquet, +in the southern part of the State. _Tenuirostres_, five species. Of the +Kingfishers, one species. Swallows and Goat-suckers, nine species. Of +the Pigeons, two, the Turtle-Dove and the Passenger Pigeon, of which the +latter visit us twice a year, in immense flocks. + +Of the gallinaceous birds, the Turkey, which is found in the heavy +timber in the river bottoms; the Quail, which has become very abundant +all over the State, within twenty years, following, it would seem, the +march of civilization and settlement; the Ruffed Grouse, abundant in the +timber, but never seen on the prairie; the Pinnated Grouse, or Prairie +Hen, always found on the open plains. These birds increased very much in +number after the settlement of the State, owing probably to the increase +of food for them, and the decrease of their natural enemies, the prairie +wolves; but since the building of railroads, so many are killed to +supply the demands of New York and other Eastern cities, that they are +now decreasing very rapidly, and in a very few years the sportsman will +have to cross the Mississippi to find a pack of grouse. The Sharp-tailed +Grouse, an occasional visitor in winter from Wisconsin, is found in the +timbered country. + +Of wading birds, from forty to fifty species, among which the Sand-Hill +Crane is very abundant, and the Great White or Whooping Crane very rare, +although supposed by some authors to be the same bird in different +stages of plumage. + +Of the lobe-footed birds, seven species, of which is the rare and +beautiful Wilson's Phalarope, which breeds in the wet prairies near +Chicago. + +Of web-footed birds, about forty species, among which are two Swans and +five Geese. Among the Ducks, the Canvas-Back is found; but, owing to the +want of its favorite food in the Chesapeake, the _Vallisneria_, it is, +in our waters, a very ordinary duck, as an article of food. + +The waters of Illinois abound with fish, of which class we enumerate,-- + + Species Species + + Percidae, 3 Pomotis, 2 + Labrax, 3 Cottus, 2 + Lucioperca, 2 Corvina, 1 + Huro, 1 Pimelodus, 5 + Centrarchus, 3 Leuciscus, 6 + Hydrargea, 2 Corregomus, 3 + Esox, 3 Amia, 1 + Hyodon, 1 Lepidosteus, 3 + Lota, 2 Accipenser, 3 + +Of these, the Perch, White, Black, and Rock Bass, the Pike-Perch, the +Catfish, the Pike and Muskalonge, the Whitefish, the Lake Trout, and the +Sturgeon are valuable fishes for the table. + +Of the class of Reptiles, we have among the Lizards the Mud-Devil, +(_Menopoma Alleghaniensis_,) which grows in the sluggish streams to +the length of two feet; also _Triton dorsalis_, _Necturus lateralis_, +_Ambystoma punctata_. + +Of the Snakes, we find three venomous species, the Rattlesnake, the +Massasauga, and the Copper-Head. The largest serpents are the Black +Snake, five feet long, and the Milk Snake, from five to six feet in +length. + +Among the Turtles is _Emys picta_, _Chelonura serpentina_, and _Cistuda +clausa_. + +Of the Frogs, we have _Rana sylvatica_, _Rana palustris_, and _Rana +pipiens_, nearly two feet long, and loud-voiced in proportion,--a +Bull-Frog, indeed! + +Various theories and speculations have been formed as to the origin of +the prairies. One of them, is, that the forests which formerly occupied +these plains were swept away at some remote period by fire; and that the +annual fires set by the Indians have continued this state of things. +Another theory is, that the violent winds which sweep over them have +prevented the growth of trees; a third, that want of rain forbids their +growth; a fourth, that the agency of water has produced the effect; +and lastly, a learned professor at the last meeting of the Scientific +Convention put forth his theory, which was, that the real cause of the +absence of trees from the prairies is the mechanical condition of the +soil, which is, he thinks, too fine,--a coarse, rocky soil being, in his +estimation, a necessary condition of the growth of trees. + +Most of these theories seem to be inconsistent with the plain facts of +the case. First, we know that these prairies existed in their present +condition when the first white man visited them, two hundred years ago; +and also that similar treeless plains exist in South America and Central +Africa, and have so existed ever since those countries were known. We +are told by travellers in those regions, that the natives have the same +custom of annually burning the dry grass and herbage for the same reason +that our Indians did it, and that the early white settlers kept up the +custom,--namely, to promote the growth of young and tender feed for the +wild animals which the former hunted and the cattle which the latter +live by grazing. + +Another fact, well known to all settlers in the prairie, is, that it is +only necessary to keep out the fires by fences or ditches, and a thick +growth of trees will spring up on the prairies. Many fine groves now +exist all over Illinois, where nothing grew twenty years ago but the +wild grasses and weeds; and we have it on record, that locust-seed, sown +on the prairie near Quincy, in four years produced trees with a diameter +of trunk of four to six inches, and in seven years had become large +enough for posts and rails. So with fruit-trees, which nowhere flourish +with more strength and vigor than in this soil,--too much so, indeed, +since they are apt to run to wood rather than fruit. Moreover, the soil +in the groves and on the river bottoms, where trees naturally grow, is +the same, chemically and mechanically, as that of the open prairie; the +same winds sweep over both, and the same rain falls upon both; so that +it would seem that the absence of trees cannot be attributed wholly to +fire, water, wind, or soil, but is owing to a combination of two or more +of those agencies. + +But from whatever cause the prairies originated, they have no doubt been +perpetuated by the fires which annually sweep over their surface. Where +the soil is too wet to sustain a heavy growth of grass, there is no +prairie. Timber is found along the streams, almost invariably,--and, +where the banks are high and dry, will usually be found on the east bank +of those streams whose course is north and south. This is caused by the +fact that the prevailing winds are from the west, and bring the fire +with them till it reaches the stream, which forms a barrier and protects +the vegetation on the other side. + +If any State in the Union is adapted to agriculture, and the various +branches of rural economy, such as stock-raising, wool-growing, or +fruit-culture, it must surely be Illinois, where the fertile natural +meadows invite the plough, without the tedious process of clearing off +timber, which, in many parts of the country, makes it the labor of a +lifetime to bring a farm under good cultivation. Here, the farmer who is +satisfied with such crops as fifty bushels of corn to the acre, eighteen +of wheat, or one hundred of potatoes, has nothing to do but to plough, +sow, and reap; no manure, and but little attention, being necessary +to secure a yield like this. Hence a man of very small means can soon +become independent on the prairies. If, however, one is ambitious of +raising good crops, and doing the best he can with his land, let him +manure liberally and cultivate diligently; nowhere will land pay for +good treatment better than here. + +Mr. J. Ambrose Wight, of Chicago, the able editor of the "Prairie +Farmer," writes as follows:-- + +"From an acquaintance with Illinois lands and Illinois farmers, of +eighteen years, during thirteen of which I have been editor of the +'Prairie Farmer,' I am prepared to give the following as the rates of +produce which may be had per acre, with ordinary culture:-- + + Winter Wheat, 15 to 25 Bushels. + Spring " 10 to 20 " + Corn, 40 to 70 " + Oats, 40 to 60 " + Potatoes, 100 to 200 " + Grass, Timothy and Clover, 1-1/2 to 3 Tons. + +"_Ordinary culture_, on prairie lands, is not what is meant by the term +in the Eastern or Middle States. It means here, no manure, and commonly +but once, or at most twice, ploughing, on perfectly smooth land, with +long furrows, and no stones or obstructions; where two acres per day +is no hard job for one team. It is often but very poor culture, with +shallow ploughing, and without attention to weeds. I have known crops, +not unfrequently, far greater than these, with but little variation in +their treatment: say, 40 to 50 bushels of winter wheat, 60 to 80 of +oats, and 100 of Indian corn, or 300 of potatoes. _Good culture_, which +means rotation, deep ploughing, farms well stocked, and some manure +applied at intervals of from three to five years, would, in good +seasons, very often approach these latter figures." + +We will now give the results of a very detailed account of the +management of a farm of 240 acres, in Kane County, Illinois, an average +farm as to soil and situation, but probably much above the average in +cultivation,--at least, we should judge so from the intelligent and +business-like manner in which the account is kept; every crop having a +separate account kept with it in Dr. and Cr., to show the net profit or +loss of each. + +23 acres of Wheat, 30 bushels per acre, net profit $453.00 +17-1/2 " " on Corn ground, 22-1/2 " " " 278.50 +9-1/2 " Spring Wheat, 24 " " " 159.70 +2-1/2 " Winter Rye, 22-7/12 " " " 10.25 +5-1/2 " Barley, 33-1/4 " " " 32.55 +12 " Oats, 87-1/2 " " " 174.50 +28-1/2 " Corn, 60 " " " 638.73 +1 " Potatoes, 150 " " " 27.50 +103 Sheep, average weight of fleece, 3-1/2 lbs., " 177.83 +15 head of Cattle and one Colt " 103.00 +1500 lbs. Pork " 35.00 +Fruit, Honey, Bees, and Poultry " 73.75 +21 acres Timothy Seed, 4 bushels per acre, " 123.00 +-------- +$2287.31 + +A farm of this size, so situated, with the proper buildings and stock, +may, at the present price of land, be supposed to represent a capital of +$15,000--on which sum the above account gives an interest of over 15 per +cent. Is there any other part of the country where the same interest can +be realized on farming capital? + +But this farm of 240 acres is a mere retail affair to many farms in the +State. We will give some examples on a larger scale. + +"Winstead Davis came to Jonesboro', Illinois, from Tennessee, thirty +years ago, without means of any kind; now owns many thousand acres of +land, and has under cultivation, this year, from 2500 to 3000 acres." + +"W. Willard, native of Vermont, commenced penniless; now owns more than +10,000 acres of land, and cultivates 2000." + +"Jesse Funk, near Bloomington, Illinois, began the world thirty years +ago, at rail-splitting, at twenty-five cents the hundred. He bought +land, and raised cattle; kept increasing his lands and herds, till he +now owns 7000 acres of land, and sells over 840,000 worth of cattle and +hogs annually. + +"Isaac Funk, brother of the above, began in the same way, at the same +time. He has gone ahead of Jesse; for _he_ owns 27,000 acres of land, +has 4000 in cultivation, and his last year's sales of cattle amounted to +$65,000." + +It is evident that the brothers Funk are men of administrative talent; +they would have made a figure in Wall Street, could have filled cabinet +office at Washington, or, perhaps, could even have "kept a hotel." + +These are but specimens of the large-acred men of Illinois. Hundreds of +others there are, who farm on nearly the same scale. + +The great difficulty in carrying on farming operations on a large scale +in Illinois has always been the scarcity of labor. Land is cheap and +plenty, but labor scarce and dear: exactly the reverse of what obtains +in England, where land is dear and labor cheap. It must be evident that +a different kind of farming would be found here from that in use in +older countries. There, the best policy is to cultivate a few acres +well; here, it has been found more profitable to skim over a large +surface. But within a few years the introduction of labor-saving +machines has changed the conditions of farming, and has rendered it +possible to give good cultivation to large tracts of land with few men. +Many of the crops are now put in by machines, cultivated by machines, +and harvested by machine. If, as seems probable, the steam-plough +of Fawkes shall become a success, the revolution in farming will be +complete. Already some of the large farmers employ wind or steam power +in various ways to do the heavy work, such as cutting and grinding food +for cattle and hogs, pumping water, etc. + +Although the soil and climate of Illinois are well adapted to +fruit-culture, yet, from various causes, it has not, till lately, been +much attended to. The early settlers of Southern and Middle Illinois +were mostly of the Virginia race, Hoosiers,--who are a people of few +wants. If they have hog-meat and hominy, whiskey and tobacco, they are +content; they will not trouble themselves to plant fruit-trees. The +early settlers in the North were, generally, very poor men; they could +not afford to buy fruit-trees, for the produce of which they must wait +several years. Wheat, corn, and hogs were the articles which could be +soonest converted into money, and those they raised. Then the early +attempts at raising fruit were not very successful. The trees were +brought from the East, and were either spoiled by the way, or were +unsuited to this region. But the great difficulty has been the want of +drainage. Fruit-trees cannot be healthy with wet feet for several months +of the year, and this they are exposed to on these level lands. With +proper tile-draining, so that the soil shall be dry and mellow early in +the spring, we think that the apple, the pear, the plum, and the cherry +will succeed on the prairies anywhere in Illinois. The peach and the +grape flourish in the southern part of the State, already, with very +little care; in St. Clair County, the culture of the latter has been +carried on by the Germans for many years, and the average yield of +Catawba wine has been two hundred gallons per acre. The strawberry grows +wild all over the State, both in the timber and the prairie; and the +cultivated varieties give very fine crops. All the smaller fruits do +well here, and the melon family find in this soil their true home; they +are raised by the acre, and sold by the wagon-load, in the neighborhood +of Chicago. + +Stock-raising is undoubtedly the most profitable kind of farming on +the prairies, which are so admirably adapted to this species of rural +economy, and Illinois is already at the head of the cattle-breeding +States. There were shipped from Chicago in 1860, 104,122 head of live +cattle, and 114,007 barrels of beef. + +The Durham breed seems to be preferred by the best stock-farmers, and +they pay great attention to the purity of the race. A herd of one +hundred head of cattle raised near Urbanna, and averaging 1965 pounds +each, took the premium at the World's Fair in New York. Although the +Durhams are remarkable for their large size and early maturity, yet +other breeds are favorites with many farmers,--such as the Devons, the +Herefords, and the Holsteins, the first particularly,--for working +cattle, and for the quality of their beef. There is a sweetness about +the beef fattened upon these prairies which is not found elsewhere, and +is noticed by all travellers who have eaten of that meat at the best +Chicago hotels. + +In fact, Illinois is the paradise of cattle, and there is no sight more +beautiful, in its way, than one of those vast natural meadows in June, +dotted with the red and white cattle, standing belly-deep in rich grass +and gay-colored flowers, and almost too fat and lazy to whisk away +the flies. Even in winter they look comfortable, in their sheltered +barn-yard, surrounded by huge stacks of hay or long ranges of +corn-cribs, chewing the cud of contentment, and untroubled with any +thought of the inevitable journey to Brighton. + +Where corn is so plenty as it is in Illinois, of course hogs will be +plenty also. During the year 1860, two hundred and seventy-five thousand +porkers rode into Chicago by railroad, eighty-five thousand of which +pursued their journey, still living, to Eastern cities,--the balance +remaining behind to be converted into lard, bacon, and salt pork. + +The wholesale way of making beef and pork is this. All summer the cattle +are allowed to run on the prairie, and the hogs in the timber on the +river bottoms. In the autumn, when the corn is ripe, the cattle are +turned into one of those great fields, several hundred acres in extent, +to gather the crop; and after they have done, the hogs come in to pick +up what the cattle have left. + +Sheep do well on the prairies, particularly in the southern part of the +State, where the flocks require little or no shelter in winter. The +prairie wolves formerly destroyed many sheep; but since the introduction +of strychnine for poisoning those voracious animals, the sheep have been +very little troubled. + +Horses and mules are raised extensively, and in the northern counties, +where the Morgans and other good breeds have been introduced, the horses +are as good as in any State of the Union. Theory would predict this +result, since the horse is found always to come to his greatest +perfection in level countries,--as, for instance, the deserts of Arabia, +and the _llanos_ of South America. + +There are two articles in daily and indispensable use, for which the +Northern States have hitherto been dependent on the Southern: Sugar +and Cotton. With regard to the first, the introduction of the Chinese +Sugar-Cane has demonstrated that every farmer in the State can raise +his own sweetening. The experience of several years has proved that the +_Sorghum_ is a hardier plant than corn, and that it will be a sure crop +as far North as latitude 42 deg. or 43 deg.. + +An acre of good prairie will produce 18 tons of the cane, and each ton +gives 60 gallons of juice, which is reduced, by boiling, to 10 gallons +of syrup. This gives 180 gallons of syrup to the acre, worth from 40 to +50 cents a gallon,--say 40 cents, which will give 72 dollars for the +product of an acre of land; from which the expenses of cultivation being +deducted, with rent of land, etc., say 36 dollars, there will remain a +net profit of 36 dollars to the acre, besides the seed, and the fodder +which comes from a third part of the stalk, which is cut off before +sending the remainder to the mill. This is found to be the most +nutritious food that can be used for cattle and horses, and very +valuable for milch cows. These results Lave been obtained from Mr. Luce, +of Plainfield, Will County, who has lately built a steam-mill for making +the syrup from the cane which is raised by the farmers in that vicinity. +In this first year, he manufactured 12,500 gallons of syrup, which sells +readily at fifty cents a gallon. A quantity of it was refined at the +Chicago Sugar-Refinery, and the result was a very agreeable syrup, free +from the peculiar flavor which the home-made Sorghum-syrup usually +has. As yet, no experiments on a large scale have been made to obtain +crystallized sugar from the juice of this cane, it having been, so far, +used more economically in the shape of syrup. That it can be done, +however, is proved by the success of several persons who have tried it +in a small way. In the County of Vermilion, it is estimated that three +hundred thousand gallons of syrup were made in 1860. + +As to Cotton, since the building of the Illinois Central Railroad has +opened the southern part of the State to the world, and let in the +light upon that darkened Egypt, it is found that those people have +been raising their own cotton for many years, from the seed which they +brought with them into the State from Virginia and North Carolina. The +plant has become acclimated, and now ripens its seed in latitude 39 deg. and +40 deg.. Perhaps the culture may be carried still farther, so that cotton +may be raised all over the State. The heat of our summers is tropical, +but they are too short. If, however, the cotton-plant, like Indian corn +and the tomato, can be gradually induced to mature itself in four or +five months, the consequences of such a change can hardly be estimated. + +But whether or not it be possible to raise cotton and sugar profitably +in Illinois, that she is the great bread- and meat-producing State no +one can doubt; and in 1861 it happens that Cotton is King no longer, but +must yield his sceptre to Corn. + +The breadstuffs exported from the Northwest to Europe and to the Cotton +States will this year probably amount to more money than the whole +foreign export of cotton,--the crop which to some persons represents all +that the world contains of value. + + Probable export of Cotton in 1861, three-fourths + of the crop of 4,000,000 bales, 3,000,000 bales, + at $45 . . . . . . . . . $135,000,000 + Estimated export of Breadstuffs + to Europe . . . . . . . . $100,000,000 + Estimated export of Breadstuffs + to Southern States . . . . . . $45,000,000 + ------------ + $145,000,000 + +We are feeding Europe and the Cotton States, who pay us in gold; we +feed the Northern States, who pay us in goods; we are feeding our +starving brothers in Kansas, who have paid us beforehand, by their +heroic devotion to the cause of freedom. Let us hope that their troubles +are nearly over, and that, having passed through more hardships than +have fallen to the lot of any American community, they may soon enter +upon a career of prosperity as signal as have been their misfortunes, so +that the prairies of Kansas may, in their turn, assist in feeding the +world. + +Nothing has done so much for the rapid growth of Illinois as her canal +and railroads. + +As early as 1833 several railroad charters were granted by the +legislature; but the stock was not taken, and nothing was done until the +year 1836, when a vast system of internal improvements was projected, +intended "to be commensurate with the wants of the people,"--that is, +there was to be a railroad to run by every man's door. About thirteen +hundred miles of railroads were planned, a canal was to be built from +Chicago to the Illinois River at Peru, and several rivers were to be +made navigable. The cost of all this it was supposed would be about +eight millions of dollars, and the money was to be raised by loan. In +order that all might have the benefit of this system, it was provided +that two hundred thousand dollars should be distributed among those +counties where none of these improvements were made. To cap the climax +of folly, it was provided that the work should commence on all these +roads simultaneously, at each end, and from the crossings of all the +rivers. + +As no previous survey or estimate had been made, either of the routes, +the cost of the works, or the amount of business to be done on them, it +is not surprising that the State of Illinois soon found herself with a +heavy debt, and nothing to show for it, except a few detached pieces +of railroad embankments and excavations, a half-finished canal, and a +railroad from the Illinois River to Springfield, which cost one million +of dollars, and when finished would not pay for operating it. + +The State staggered on for some ten years under this load of debt, +which, as she could not pay the interest upon it, had increased in 1845 +to some fourteen millions. The project of repudiating the debt was +frequently brought forward by unscrupulous politicians; but to the honor +of the people of Illinois be it remembered, that even in the darkest +times this dishonest scheme found but few friends. + +In 1845, the holders of the canal bonds advanced the sum of $1,700,000 +for the purpose of finishing the canal; and subsequently, William B. +Ogden and a few other citizens of Chicago, having obtained possession of +an old railroad-charter for a road from that city to Galena, got a few +thousand dollars of stock subscribed in those cities, and commenced the +work. The difficulties were very great, from the scarcity of money and +the want of confidence in the success of the enterprise. In most of the +villages along the proposed line there was a strong opposition to having +a railroad built at all, as the people thought it would be the ruin of +their towns. Even in Chicago, croakers were not wanting to predict that +the railroad would monopolize all the trade of the place. + +In the face of all these obstacles, the road was built to the Des +Plaines River, twelve miles,--in a very cheap way, to be sure; as a +second-hand strap-rail was used, and half-worn cars were picked up from +Eastern roads. + +These twelve miles of road between the Des Plaines and Chicago had +always been the terror of travellers. It was a low, wet prairie, without +drainage, and in the spring and autumn almost impassable. At such +seasons one might trace the road by the broken wagons and dead horses +that lay strewn along it. + +To be able to have their loads of grain carried over this dreadful place +for three or four cents a bushel was to the farmers of the Rock River +and Fox River valleys--who, having hauled their wheat from forty to +eighty miles to this Slough of Despond, frequently could get it no +farther--a privilege which they soon began to appreciate. The road had +all it could do, at once. It was a success. There was now no difficulty +in getting the stock taken up, and before long it was finished to Fox +River. It paid from fifteen to twenty per cent to the stockholders, +and the people along the line soon became its warmest friends,--and no +wonder, since it doubled the value of every man's farm on the line. The +next year the road was extended to Rock River, and then to Galena, one +hundred and eighty-five miles. + +This road was the pioneer of the twenty-eight hundred and fifty miles of +railroads which now cross the State in every direction, and which have +hastened the settlement of the prairies at least fifty years. + +Among these lines of railway, the most important, and one of the longest +in America, is the Illinois Central, which is seven hundred and four +miles in length, and traverses the State from South to North, namely:-- + + 1. The main line, from Cairo to La Salla 308 miles + 2. The Galena Branch, from La Salle to Dunleith 146 " + 3. The Chicago Branch, from Chicago to Centralia 250 " + +This great work was accomplished in the short space of four years and +nine months, by the help of a grant of two and a half millions of acres +of land lying along the line. The company have adopted the policy of +selling these lands on long credit to actual settlers; and since the +completion of the road, in 1856, they have sold over a million of acres, +for fifteen millions of dollars, in secured notes, bearing interest. The +remaining lands will probably realize as much more, so that the seven +hundred and four miles of railroad will actually cost the corporators +nothing. + +There are eleven trunk and twenty branch and extension lines, which +centre in Chicago, the earnings of nineteen of which, for the year 1859, +were fifteen millions of dollars. As that, however, was a year of great +depression in business, with a short crop through the Northwest, we +think, in view of the large crop of 1860, and the consequent revival of +business, that the earnings of these nineteen lines will not be less +this year than twenty-two millions of dollars. + +In the early settlement of the State, twenty-five or thirty years ago, +the pioneers being necessarily very liable to want of good shelter, to +bad food and impure water, suffered much from bilious and intermittent +fevers. As the country has become settled, the land brought under +cultivation, and the habits of the people improved, these diseases have +in a great measure disappeared. Other forms of disease have, however, +taken their place, pulmonary affections and fevers of the typhoid type +being more prevalent than formerly; but as most of the immigrants into +Northern Illinois are from Western New York and New England, where this +latter class of diseases prevails, the people are much less alarmed by +them than they used to be by the bilious diseases, though the latter +were really less dangerous. The coughs, colds, and consumptions are old +acquaintances, and through familiarity have lost their terrors. + +The census of 1850 gives the following comparative view of the annual +percentage of deaths in several States:-- + + Massachusetts, . . 1.95 per cent. + Rhode Island, . . 1.52 " + New York, . . . 1.47 " + Ohio, . . . . 1.44 " + Illinois, . . . . 1.36 " + Missouri, . . . 1.80 " + Louisiana, . . . 2.31 " + Texas, . . . 1.43 " + +This table shows that Illinois stands in point of health among the very +highest of the States. + +Having sketched the history and traced the material development of the +Prairie State to the present time, we will close this article with a few +words as to its politics and policy. + +As we have seen, the early settlers of Illinois were from Virginia +and Kentucky, and brought with them the habits, customs, and ideas of +Slaveholders; and though by the sagacity and virtue of a few leading +men the institution of Slavery was kept out, yet for many years the +Democratic Party, always the ally and servant of the Slave-Power, was in +the ascendant. Until 1858, the Legislature and the Executive have always +been Democratic, and the Democratic candidate for the Presidency, from +Jackson down to Buchanan, was sure of the electoral vote of Illinois. +But the growth of the northern half of the State has of late years been +far outstripping that of the southern portion, and the former now has +the majority. We have now a Republican Legislature and a Republican +Governor, and, by the new apportionment soon to be made, the Republican +Party will be much more largely in the ascendant,--so much so, indeed, +that there is no probability of another Democratic Senator being chosen +from Illinois in the next twenty years, Mr. Douglas will be the last of +his race. + +The people of Northern Illinois, who are in future to direct the policy +of the State, are mostly from Western New York and New England. + + "Coelum, non animum mutant." + +They bring with them their unconquered prejudices in favor of freedom; +their great commercial city is as strongly anti-slavery as Worcester +or Syracuse, and has been for years an unsafe spot for a slave-hunter. +Their interests and their sympathies are all with the Northern States. +What idle babble, then, is this theory of a third Confederacy, to be +constructed out of the middle Atlantic States and the Northwest! + +If, as one of our orators says, New England is the brain of this +country, then the Northwest is its bone and muscle, ready to cultivate +its wide prairies and feed the world,--or, if need be, to use the same +strength in crushing treason, and in preserving the Territories for free +settlers. + + + + +CONCERNING FUTURE YEARS + + +Does it ever come across you, my friend, with something of a start, that +things cannot always go on in your lot as they are going now? Does not a +sudden thought sometimes flash upon you, a hasty, vivid glimpse, of what +you will be long hereafter, if you are spared in this world? Our common +way is too much to think that things will always go on as they are +going. Not that we clearly think so: not that we ever put that opinion +in a definite shape, and avow to ourselves that we hold it: but we live +very much under that vague, general impression. We can hardly help it. +When a man of middle age inherits a pretty country-seat, and makes up +his mind that be cannot yet afford to give up business and go to live +there, but concludes that in six or eight years he will be able with +justice to his children to do so, do you think he brings plainly before +him the changes which must be wrought on himself and those around him +by these years? I do not speak of the greatest change of all, which may +come to any of us so very soon: I do not think of what may be done +by unlooked-for accident: I think merely of what must be done by the +passing on of time. I think of possible changes in taste and feeling, +of possible loss of liking for that mode of life. I think of lungs that +will play less freely, and of limbs that will suggest shortened walks, +and dissuade from climbing hills. I think how the children will have +outgrown daisy-chains, or even got beyond the season of climbing trees. +The middle-aged man enjoys the prospect of the time when he shall go to +his country house; and the vague, undefined belief surrounds him, like +an atmosphere, that he and his children, his views and likings, will be +then just such as they are now. He cannot bring it home to him at how +many points change will be cutting into him, and hedging him in, and +paring him down. And we all live very much under that vague impression. +Yet it is in many ways good for us to feel that we are going on, +--passing from the things which surround us,--advancing into the +undefined future, into the unknown land. And I think that sometimes we +all have vivid flashes of such a conviction. I dare say, my friend, you +have seen an old man, frail, soured, and shabby, and you have thought, +with a start, Perhaps _there_ is Myself of Future Years. + +We human beings can stand a great deal. There is great margin allowed by +our constitution, physical and moral. I suppose there is no doubt that +a man may daily for years eat what is unwholesome, breathe air which is +bad, or go through a round of life which is not the best or the right +one for either body or mind, and yet be little the worse. And so men +pass through great trials and through long years, and yet are not +altered so very much. The other day, walking along the street, I saw a +man whom I had not seen for ten years. I knew that since I saw him last +he had gone through very heavy troubles, and that these had sat very +heavily upon him. I remembered how he had lost that friend who was the +dearest to him of all human beings, and I knew how broken down he had +been for many months after that great sorrow came. Yet there he was, +walking along, an unnoticed unit, just like any one else; and he was +looking wonderfully well. No doubt he seemed pale, worn, and anxious: +but he was very well and carefully dressed; he was walking with a brisk, +active step; and I dare say is feeling pretty well reconciled to being +what he is, and to the circumstances amid which he is living. Still, one +felt that somehow a tremendous change had passed over him. I felt +sorry for him, and all the more that he did not seem to feel sorry for +himself. It made me sad to think that some day I should be like him; +that perhaps in the eyes of my juniors I look like him already, careworn +and aging. I dare say in his feeling there was no such sense of falling +off. Perhaps he was tolerably content. He was walking so fast, and +looking so sharp, that I am sure he had no desponding feeling at the +time. Despondency goes with slow movements and with vague looks. The +sense of having materially fallen off is destructive to the eagle-eye. +Yes, he was tolerably content. We can go down-hill cheerfully, save at +the points where it is sharply brought home to us that we are going +down-hill. Lately I sat at dinner opposite an old lady who had the +remains of striking beauty. I remember how much she interested me. Her +hair was false, her teeth were false, her complexion was shrivelled, her +form had lost the round symmetry of earlier years, and was angular and +stiff; yet how cheerful and lively she was! She had gone far down-hill +physically; but either she did not feel her decadence, or she had grown +quite reconciled to it. Her daughter, a blooming matron, was there, +happy, wealthy, good; yet not apparently a whit more reconciled to life +than the aged grandam. It was pleasing, and yet it was sad, to see how +well we can make up our mind to what is inevitable. And such a sight +brings up to one a glimpse of Future Years. The cloud seems to part +before one, and through the rift you discern your earthly track far +away, and a jaded pilgrim plodding along it with weary step; and +though the pilgrim does not look like you, yet you know the pilgrim is +yourself. + +This cannot always go on. To what is it all tending? I am not thinking +now of an outlook so grave, that this is not the place to discuss it. +But I am thinking how everything is going on. In this world there is no +standing still. And everything that belongs entirely to this world, its +interests and occupations, is going on towards a conclusion. It will +all come to an end. It cannot go on forever. I cannot always be writing +sermons as I do now, and going on in this regular course of life. I +cannot always be writing essays. The day will come when I shall have no +more to say, or when the readers of the Magazine will no longer have +patience to listen to me in that kind fashion in which they have +listened so long. I foresee it plainly, this evening,--even while +writing my first essay for the "Atlantic Monthly,"--the time when +the reader shall open the familiar cover, and glance at the table of +contents, and exclaim indignantly, "Here is that tiresome person again: +why will he not cease to weary us?" I write in sober sadness, my friend: +I do not intend any jest. If you do not know that what I have written is +certainly true, you have not lived very long. You have not learned the +sorrowful lesson, that all worldly occupations and interests are wearing +to their close. You cannot keep up the old thing, however much you may +wish to do so. You know how vain anniversaries for the most part are. +You meet with certain old friends, to try to revive the old days; but +the spirit of the old time will not come over you. It is not a spirit +that can be raised at will. It cannot go on forever, that walking down +to church on Sundays, and ascending those pulpit-steps; it will change +to feeling, though I humbly trust it may be long before it shall change +in fact. Don't you all sometimes feel something like that? Don't you +sometimes look about you and say to yourself, That furniture will wear +out: those window-curtains are getting sadly faded; they will not last a +lifetime? Those carpets must be replaced some day; and the old patterns +which looked at you with a kindly, familiar expression, through these +long years, must be among the old familiar faces that are gone. These +are little things, indeed, but they are among the vague recollections +that bewilder our memory; they are among the things which come up in the +strange, confused remembrance of the dying man in the last days of life. +There is an old fir-tree, a twisted, strange-looking fir-tree, which +will be among my last recollections, I know, as it was among my first. +It was always before my eyes, when I was three, four, five years old: I +see the pyramidal top, rising over a mass of shrubbery; I see it always +against a sunset-sky; always in the subdued twilight in which we seem to +see things in distant years. These old friends will die, you think; +who will take their place? You will be an old gentleman, a frail old +gentleman, wondered at by younger men, and telling them long stones +about the days when Lincoln was President, like those which weary you +now about the War of 1812. It will not be the same world then. Your +children will not be always children. Enjoy their fresh youth while it +lasts, for it will not last long. Do not skim over the present too fast, +through a constant habit of onward-looking. Many men of an anxious turn +are so eagerly concerned in providing for the future, that they hardly +remark the blessings of the present. Yet it is only because the future +will some day be present, that it deserves any thought at all. And many +men, instead of heartily enjoying present blessings while they are +present, train themselves to a habit of regarding these things as merely +the foundation on which they are to build some vague fabric of they know +not what. I have known a clergyman, who was very fond of music, and in +whose church the music was very fine, who seemed incapable of enjoying +its solemn beauty as a thing to be enjoyed while passing, but who +persisted in regarding each beautiful strain merely as a promising +indication of what his choir would come at some future time to be. It is +a very bad habit, and one which grows, unless repressed. You, my reader, +when you see your children racing on the green, train yourself to regard +all that as a happy end in itself. Do not grow to think merely that +those sturdy young limbs promise to be stout and serviceable when they +are those of a grown-up man; and rejoice in the smooth little forehead +with its curly hair, without any forethought of how it is to look some +day when overshadowed (as it is sure to be) by the great wig of the Lord +Chancellor. Good advice: let us all try to take it. Let all happy things +be not merely regarded as means, but enjoyed as ends. Yet it is in the +make of our nature to be ever onward-looking; and we cannot help it. +When you get the first number for the year of the magazine which you +take in, you instinctively think of it as the first portion of a new +volume; and you are conscious of a certain, though alight, restlessness +in the thought of a thing incomplete, and of a wish that you had the +volume completed. And sometimes, thus looking onward into the future, +you worry yourself with little thoughts and cares. There is that old +dog: you have had him for many years; he is growing stiff and frail; +what are you to do when he dies? When he is gone, the new dog you get +will never be like him; he may be, indeed, a far handsomer and more +amiable animal, but he will not be your old companion; he will not be +surrounded with all those old associations, not merely with your own +by-past life, but with the lives, the faces, and the voices of those who +have left you, which invest with a certain sacredness even that humble, +but faithful friend. He will not have been the companion of your +youthful walks, when you went at a pace which now you cannot attain. He +will just be a common dog; and who that has reached your years cares +for _that_? The other, indeed, was a dog too; but that was merely the +substratum on which was accumulated a host of recollections: it is _Auld +Lang Syne_ that walks into your study, when your shaggy friend of ten +summers comes stiffly in, and after many querulous turnings lays himself +down on the rug before the fire. Do you not feel the like when you +look at many little matters, and then look into the Future Years? That +harness,--how will you replace it? It will be a pang to throw it by; +and it will be a considerable expense, too, to get a new suit. Then you +think how long harness may continue to be serviceable. I once saw, on a +pair of horses drawing a stage-coach among the hills, a set of harness +which was thirty-five years old. It had been very costly and grand when +new; it had belonged for some of its earliest years to a certain wealthy +nobleman. The nobleman had been for many years in his grave, but there +was his harness still. It was tremendously patched, and the blinkers +were of extraordinary aspect; but it was quite serviceable. There is +comfort for you, poor country parsons! How thoroughly I understand your +feeling about such little things! I know how you sometimes look at your +phaeton or your dog-cart; and even while the morocco is fresh, and the +wheels still are running with their first tires, how you think you see +it after it has grown shabby and old-fashioned. Yes, you remember, +not without a dull kind of pang, that it is wearing out. You have a +neighbor, perhaps, a few miles off, whose conveyance, through the wear +of many years, has become remarkably seedy; and every time you meet it +you think that there you see your own, as it will some day be. Every dog +has his day: but the day of the rational dog is overclouded in a fashion +unknown to his inferior fellow-creature; it is overclouded by the +anticipation of the coming day which will not be his. You remember how +that great, though morbid man, John Poster, could not heartily enjoy the +summer weather, for thinking how every sunny day that shone upon him +was a downward step towards the winter gloom. Each indication that the +season was progressing, even though progressing as yet only to greater +beauty, filled him with great grief. "I have seen a fearful sight +to-day," he would say,--"I have seen a buttercup." And we know, of +course, that in his case there was nothing like affectation; it was only +that, unhappily for himself, the bent of his mind was so onward-looking, +that he saw only a premonition of the snows of December in the roses of +June. It would be a blessing, if we could quite discard the tendency. +And while your trap runs smoothly and noiselessly, while the leather is +fresh and the paint unscratched, do not worry yourself with visions of +the day when it will rattle and creak, and when you will make it wait +for you at the corner of back-streets when you drive into town. Do not +vex yourself by fancying that you will never have heart to send off the +old carriage, nor by wondering where you shall find the money to buy a +new one. + +Have you ever read the "Life of Mansie Wauch, Tailor in Dalkeith," by +that pleasing poet and most amiable man, the late David Macbeth Moir? +I have been looking into it lately; and I have regretted much that the +Lowland Scotch dialect is so imperfectly understood in England, and that +even where so far understood its raciness is so little felt; for great +as is the popularity of that work, it is much less known than it +deserves to be. Only a Scotchman can thoroughly appreciate it. It is +curious, and yet it is not curious, to find the pathos and the polish of +one of the most touching and elegant of poets in the man who has +with such irresistible humor, sometimes approaching to the farcical, +delineated humble Scotch life. One passage in the book always struck me +very much. We have in it the poet as well as the humorist and it is a +perfect example of what I have been trying to describe in the pages +which you have read. I mean the passage in which Mansie tells us of a +sudden glimpse which, in circumstances of mortal terror, he once had of +the future. On a certain "awful night" the tailor was awakened by cries +of alarm, and, looking out, he saw the next house to his own was on fire +from cellar to garret. The earnings of poor Mansie's whole life were +laid out on his stock in trade and his furniture, and it appeared likely +that these would be at once destroyed. + +"Then," says he, "the darkness of the latter days came over my spirit +like a vision before the prophet Isaiah; and I could see nothing in the +years to come but beggary and starvation,--myself a fallen-back old man, +with an out-at-the-elbows coat, a greasy hat, and a bald brow, +hirpling over a staff, requeeshting an awmous; Nanse a broken-hearted +beggar-wife, torn down to tatters, and weeping like Rachel when she +thought on better days; and poor wee Benjie going from door to door with +a meal-pock on his back." + +Ah, there is exquisite pathos _there_, as well as humor; but the thing +for which I have quoted that sentence is its startling truthfulness. You +have all done what Mansie Wauch did, I know. Every one has his own way +of doing it, and it is his own especial picture which each sees; but +there has appeared to us, as to Mansie, (I must recur to my old figure,) +as it were a sudden rift in the clouds that conceal the future, and +we have seen the way, far ahead,--the dusty way,--and an aged pilgrim +pacing slowly along it; and in that aged figure we have each recognized +our own young self. How often have I sat down on the mossy wall that +surrounded my churchyard, when I had more time for reverie than I have +now,--sat upon the mossy wall, under a great oak, whose branches came +low down and projected far out,--and looked at the rough gnarled bark, +and at the pacing river, and at the belfry of the little church, and +there and then thought of Mansie Wauch and of his vision of Future +Years! How often in these hours, or in long solitary walks and rides +among the hills, have I had visions, clear as that of Mansie Wauch, of +how I should grow old in my country parish! Do not think that I wish or +intend to be egotistical, my friendly reader. I describe these feelings +and fancies because I think this is the likeliest way in which to reach +and describe your own. There was a rapid little stream that flowed, in +a very lonely place, between the highway and a cottage to which I often +went to see a poor old woman; and when I came out of the cottage, having +made sure that no one saw me, I always took a great leap over the little +stream, which saved going round a little way. And never once, for +several years, did I thus cross it without seeing a picture as clear to +the mind's eye as Mansie Wauch's,--a picture which made me walk very +thoughtfully along for the next mile or two. It was curious to think how +one was to get through the accustomed duty after having grown old and +frail. The day would come when the brook could be crossed in that brisk +fashion no more. It must be an odd thing for the parson to walk as an +old man into the pulpit, still his own, which was his own when he was a +young man of six-and-twenty. What a crowd of old remembrances must be +present each Sunday to the clergyman's mind, who has served the same +parish and preached in the same church for fifty years! Personal +identity, continued through the successive stages of life, is a +commonplace thing to think of; but when it is brought home to your own +case and feeling, it is a very touching and a very bewildering thing. +There are the same trees and hills as when you were a boy; and when each +of us comes to his last days in this world, how short a space it will +seem since we were little children! Let us humbly hope, that, in that +brief space parting the cradle from the grave, we may (by help from +above) have accomplished a certain work which will cast its blessed +influence over all the years and all the ages before us. Yet it remains +a strange thing to look forward and to see yourself with gray hair, and +not much even of that; to see your wife an old woman, and your little +boy or girl grown up into manhood or womanhood. It is more strange still +to fancy you see them all going on as usual in the round of life, and +you no longer among them. You see your empty chair. There is your +writing-table and your inkstand; there are your books, not so carefully +arranged as they used to be; perhaps, on the whole, less indication than +you might have hoped that they miss you. All this is strange when you +bring it home to your own case; and that hundreds of millions have felt +the like makes it none the less strange to you. The commonplaces of life +and death are not commonplace when they befall ourselves. It was in +desperate hurry and agitation that Mansie Wauch saw his vision; and in +like circumstances you may have yours too. But for the most part such +moods come in leisure,--in saunterings through the autumn woods,--in +reveries by the winter fire. + +I do not think, thus musing upon our occasional glimpses of the Future, +of such fancies as those of early youth,--fancies and anticipations of +greatness, of felicity, of fame; I think of the onward views of men +approaching middle age, who have found their place and their work in +life, and who may reasonably believe, that, save for great unexpected +accidents, there will be no very material change in their lot till that +"change come" to which Job looked forward four thousand years since. +There are great numbers of educated folk who are likely always to live +in the same kind of house, to have the same establishment, to associate +with the same class of people, to walk along the same streets, to look +upon the same hills, as long as they live. The only change will be the +gradual one which will be wrought by advancing years. + +And the onward view of such people in such circumstances is generally a +very vague one. It is only now and then that there comes the startling +clearness of prospect so well set forth by Mansie Wauch. Yet sometimes, +when such a vivid view comes, it remains for days, and is a painful +companion of your solitude. Don't you remember, clerical reader of +thirty-two, having seen a good deal of an old parson, rather sour in +aspect, rather shabby-looking, sadly pinched for means, and with powers +dwarfed by the sore struggle with the world to maintain his family and +to keep up a respectable appearance upon his limited resources; perhaps +with his mind made petty and his temper spoiled by the little worries, +the petty malignant tattle and gossip and occasional insolence of a +little backbiting village? and don't you remember how for days you felt +haunted by a sort of nightmare that there was what you would be, if you +lived so long? Yes; you know how there have been times when for ten days +together that jarring thought would intrude, whenever your mind was +disengaged from work; and sometimes, when you went to bed, that thought +kept you awake for hours. You knew the impression was morbid, and you +were angry with yourself for your silliness; but you could not drive it +away. + +It makes a great difference in the prospect of Future Years, if you are +one of those people who, even after middle age, may still make a great +rise in life. This will prolong the restlessness which in others is +sobered down at forty: it will extend the period during which you will +every now and then have brief seasons of feverish anxiety, hope, and +fear, followed by longer stretches of blank disappointment. And it will +afford the opportunity of experiencing a vividly new sensation, and of +turning over a quite new leaf, after most people have settled to the +jog-trot at which the remainder of the pilgrimage is to be covered. A +clergyman of the Church of England may be made a bishop, and exchange a +quiet rectory for a palace. No doubt the increase of responsibility is +to a conscientious man almost appalling; but surely the rise in life +is great. There you are, one of four-and-twenty, selected out of near +twenty thousand. It is possible, indeed, that you may feel more reason +for shame than for elation at the thought. A barrister unknown to fame, +but of respectable standing, may be made a judge. Such a man may even, +if he gets into the groove, be gradually pushed on till he reaches an +eminence which probably surprises himself as much as any one else. A +good speaker in Parliament may at sixty or seventy be made a Cabinet +Minister. And we can all imagine what indescribable pride and elation +must in such cases possess the wife and daughters of the man who has +attained this decided step in advance. I can say sincerely that I never +saw human beings walk with so airy tread, and evince so fussily their +sense of a greatness more than mortal, as the wife and the daughter of +an amiable but not able bishop I knew in my youth, when they came to +church on the Sunday morning on which the good man preached for the +first time in his lawn sleeves. Their heads were turned for the time; +but they gradually came right again, as the ladies became accustomed to +the summits of human affairs. Let it be said for the bishop himself, +that there was not a vestige of that sense of elevation about him. He +looked perfectly modest and unaffected. His dress was remarkably ill put +on, and his sleeves stuck out in the most awkward fashion ever assumed +by drapery. I suppose that sometimes these rises in life come very +unexpectedly. I have heard of a man who, when he received a letter from +the Prime Minister of the day offering him a place of great dignity, +thought the letter was a hoax, and did not notice it for several days. +You could not certainly infer from his modesty what has proved to be the +fact, that he has filled his place admirably well. The possibility of +such material changes must no doubt tend to prolong the interest in +life, which is ready to flag as years go on. But perhaps with the +majority of men the level is found before middle age, and no very great +worldly change awaits them. The path stretches on, with its ups and +downs; and they only hope for strength for the day. But in such men's +lot of humble duty and quiet content there remains room for many fears. +All human beings who are as well off as they can ever be, and so who +have little room for hope, seem to be liable to the invasion of great +fear as they look into the future. It seems to be so with kings, and +with great nobles. Many such have lived in a nervous dread of change, +and have ever been watching the signs of the times with apprehensive +eyes. Nothing that can happen can well make such better; and so they +suffer from the vague foreboding of something which will make them +worse. And the same law reaches to those in whom hope is narrowed down, +not by the limit of grand possibility, but of little,--not by the fact +that they have got all that mortal can get, but by the fact that they +have got the little which is all that Providence seems to intend to give +to _them_. And, indeed, there is something that is almost awful, when +your affairs are all going happily, when your mind is clear and equal +to its work, when your bodily health is unbroken, when your home is +pleasant, when your income is ample, when your children are healthy and +merry and hopeful,--in looking on to Future Years. The more happy +you are, the more there is of awe in the thought how frail are the +foundations of your earthly happiness,--what havoc may be made of them +by the chances of even a single day. It is no wonder that the solemnity +and awfulness of the Future have been felt so much, that the languages +of Northern Europe have, as I dare say you know, no word which expresses +the essential notion of Futurity. You think, perhaps, of _shall_ +and _will_. Well, these words have come now to convey the notion of +Futurity; but they do so only in a secondary fashion. Look to their +etymology, and you will see that they _imply_ Futurity, but do not +_express_ it. _I shall_ do such a thing means _I am bound to do it, I am +under an obligation to do it. I will_ do such a thing means _I intend to +do it. It is my present purpose to do it_. Of course, if you are under +an obligation to do anything, or if it be your intention to do anything, +the probability is that the thing will be done; but the Northern family +of languages ventures no nearer than _that_ towards the expression of +the bare, awful idea of Future Time. It was no wonder that Mr. Croaker +was able to east a gloom upon the gayest circle, and the happiest +conjuncture of circumstances, by wishing that all might be as well that +day six months. Six months! What might that time not do? Perhaps you +have not read a little poem of Barry Cornwall's, the idea of which must +come home to the heart of most of us:-- + + "Touch us gently, Time! + Let us glide adown thy stream + Gently,--as we sometimes glide + Through a quiet dream. + Humble voyagers are we, + Husband, wife, and children three;-- + One is lost,--an angel, fled + To the azure overhead. + + "Touch us gently, Time! + We've not proud nor soaring wings: + _Our_ ambition, our content, + Lies in simple things. + Humble voyagers are we, + O'er life's dim, unsounded sea, + Seeking only some calm clime:-- + Touch us gently, gentle Time!" + +I know that sometimes, my friend, you will not have much sleep, if, when +you lay your head on your pillow, you begin to think how much depends +upon your health and life. You have reached now that time at which you +value life and health not so much for their service to yourself, as for +their needfulness to others. There is a petition familiar to me in this +Scotch country, where people make their prayers for themselves, which +seems to me to possess great solemnity and force, when we think of +all that is implied in it. It is, _Spare useful lives!_ One life, the +slender line of blood passing into and passing out of one human heart, +may decide the question, whether wife and children shall grow up +affluent, refined, happy, yes, and _good_, or be reduced to hard +straits, with all the manifold evils which grow of poverty in the case +of those who have been reduced to it after knowing other things. You +often think, I doubt not, in quiet hours, what would become of your +children, if you were gone. You have done, I trust, what you can to care +for them, even from your grave: you think sometimes of a poetical figure +of speech amid the dry technical phrases of English law: you know what +is meant by the law of _Mortmain_; and you like to think that even your +_dead hand_ may be felt to be kindly intermeddling yet in the affairs of +those who were your dearest: that some little sum, slender, perhaps, but +as liberal as you could make it, may come in periodically when it is +wanted, and seem like the gift of a thoughtful heart and a kindly hand +which are far away. Yes, cut down your present income to any extent, +that you may make some provision for your children after you are dead. +You do not wish that they should have the saddest of all reasons for +taking care of you, and trying to lengthen out your life. But even after +you have done everything which your small means permit, you will still +think, with an anxious heart, of the possibilities of Future Years. A +man or woman who has children has very strong reason for wishing to live +as long as may be, and has no right to trifle with health or life. +And sometimes, looking out into days to come, you think of the little +things, hitherto so free from man's heritage of care, as they may some +day be. You see them shabby, and early anxious: can _that_ be the little +boy's rosy face, now so pale and thin? You see them in a poor room, in +which you recognize your study-chairs with the hair coming out of the +cushions, and a carpet which you remember now threadbare and in holes. + +It is no wonder at all that people are so anxious about money. Money +means every desirable material thing on earth, and the manifold +immaterial things which come of material possessions. Poverty is the +most comprehensive earthly evil; all conceivable evils, temporal, +spiritual, and eternal, may come of _that_. Of course, great temptations +attend its opposite; and the wise man's prayer will be what it was long +ago,--"Give me neither poverty nor riches." But let us have no nonsense +talked about money being of no consequence. The want of it has made many +a father and mother tremble at the prospect of being taken from their +children; the want of it has embittered many a parent's dying hours. +You hear selfish persons talking vaguely about faith. You find such +heartless persons jauntily spending all they get on themselves, and then +leaving their poor children to beggary, with the miserable pretext that +they are doing all this through their abundant trust in God. Now this is +not faith; it is insolent presumption. It is exactly as if a man should +jump from the top of St. Paul's, and say that he had faith that the +Almighty would keep him from being dashed to pieces on the pavement. +There is a high authority as to such cases,--"Thou shalt not tempt the +Lord thy God." If God had promised that people should never fall into +the miseries of penury under any circumstances, it would be faith to +trust that promise, however unlikely of fulfilment it might seem in any +particular case. But God has made no such promise; and if you leave your +children without provision, you have no right to expect that they +shall not suffer the natural consequences of your heartlessness and +thoughtlessness. True faith lies in your doing everything you possibly +can, and _then_ humbly trusting in God. And if, after you have done your +very best, you must still go, with but a blank outlook for those you +leave, why, _then_ you may trust them to the Husband of the widow and +Father of the fatherless. Faith, as regards such matters, means firm +belief that God will do all He has promised to do, however difficult or +unlikely. But some people seem to think that faith means firm belief +that God will do whatever they think would suit them, however +unreasonable, and however flatly in the face of all the established laws +of His government. + +We all have it in our power to make ourselves miserable, if we look +far into Future Years and calculate their probabilities of evil, and +steadily anticipate the worst. It is not expedient to calculate too far +ahead. Of course, the right way in this, as in other things, is +the middle way: we are not to run either into the extreme of +over-carefulness and anxiety on the one hand, or of recklessness and +imprudence on the other. But as mention has been made of faith, it may +safely be said that we are forgetful of that rational trust in God which +is at once our duty and our inestimable privilege, if we are always +looking out into the future, and vexing ourselves with endless fears as +to how things are to go then. There is no divine promise, that, if a +reckless blockhead leaves his children to starve, they shall not starve. +And a certain inspired volume speaks with extreme severity of the man +who fails to provide for them of his own house. But there is a divine +promise which says to the humble Christian,--"As thy days, so shall thy +strength be." If your affairs are going on fairly now, be thankful, +and try to do your duty, and to do your best, as a Christian man and a +prudent man, and then leave the rest to God. Your children are about +you; no doubt they may die, and it is fit enough that you should not +forget the fragility of your most prized possessions; it is fit enough +that you should sometimes sit by the fire and look at the merry faces +and listen to the little voices, and think what it would be to lose +them. But it is not needful, or rational, or Christian-like, to be +always brooding on that thought. And when they grow up, it may be hard +to provide for them. The little thing that is sitting on your knee may +before many years be alone in life, thousands of miles from you and from +his early home, an insignificant item in the bitter price which Britain +pays for her Indian Empire. It is even possible, though you hardly for a +moment admit _that_ thought, that the child may turn out a heartless +and wicked man, and prove your shame and heartbreak: all wicked and +heartless men have been the children of somebody; and many of them, +doubtless, the children of those who surmised the future as little as +Eve did when she smiled upon the infant Cain. And the fireside by which +you sit, now merry and noisy enough, may grow lonely,--lonely with the +second loneliness, not the hopeful solitude of youth looking forward, +but the desponding loneliness of age looking back. And it is so with +everything else. Your health may break down. Some fearful accident may +befall you. The readers of the magazine may cease to care for your +articles. People may get tired of your sermons. People may stop buying +your books, your wine, your groceries, your milk and cream. Younger +men may take away your legal business. Yet how often these fears prove +utterly groundless! It was good and wise advice, given by one who had +managed, with a cheerful and hopeful spirit, to pass through many trying +and anxious years, to "take short views":--not to vex and worry yourself +by planning too far ahead. And a wiser than the wise and cheerful Sydney +Smith had anticipated his philosophy. You remember Who said, "Take no +thought"--that is, no over-anxious and over-careful thought--"for the +morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself." +Did you ever sail over a blue summer sea towards a mountainous coast, +frowning, sullen, gloomy: and have you not seen the gloom retire before +you as you advanced; the hills, grim in the distance, stretch into sunny +slopes when you neared them; and the waters smile in cheerful light, +that looked so black when they were far away? And who is there that has +not seen the parallel in actual life? We have all known the anticipated +ills of life--the danger that looked so big, the duty that looked so +arduous, the entanglement that we could not see our way through--prove +to have been nothing more than spectres on the far horizon; and when +at length we reached them, all their difficulty had vanished into air, +leaving us to think what fools we had been for having so needlessly +conjured up phantoms to disturb our quiet. Yes, there is no doubt of +it, a very great part of all we suffer in this world is from the +apprehension of things that never come. I remember well how a dear +friend, whom I (and many more) lately lost, told me many times of his +fears as to what he would do in a certain contingency which both he +and I thought was quite sure to come sooner or later. I know that the +anticipation of it caused him some of the most anxious hours of a very +anxious, though useful and honored life. How vain his fears proved! He +was taken from this world before what he had dreaded had cast its most +distant shadow. Well, let me try to discard the notion which has been +sometimes worrying me of late, that perhaps I have written nearly as +many essays as any one will care to read. Don't let any of us give way +to fears which may prove to have been entirely groundless. + +And then, if we are really spared to see those trials we sometimes +think of, and which it is right that we should sometimes think of, the +strength for them will come at the time. They will not look nearly so +black, and we shall be enabled to bear them bravely. There is in human +nature a marvellous power of accommodation to circumstances. We can +gradually make up our mind to almost anything. If this were a sermon +instead of an essay, I should explain my theory of how this comes to +be. I see in all this something beyond the mere natural instinct of +acquiescence in what is inevitable; something beyond the benevolent law +in the human mind, that it shall adapt itself to whatever circumstances +it may be placed in; something beyond the doing of the gentle comforter +Time. Yes, it is wonderful what people can go through, wonderful what +people can get reconciled to. I dare say my friend Smith, when his hair +began to fall off, made frantic efforts to keep it on. I have no doubt +he anxiously tried all the vile concoctions which quackery advertises in +the newspapers, for the advantage of those who wish for luxuriant locks. +I dare say for a while it really weighed upon his mind, and disturbed +his quiet, that he was getting bald. But now he has quite reconciled +himself to his lot; and with a head smooth and sheeny as the egg of +the ostrich, Smith goes on through life, and feels no pang at the +remembrance of the ambrosial curls of his youth. Most young people, +I dare say, think it will be a dreadful thing to grow old: a girl of +eighteen thinks it must be an awful sensation to be thirty. Believe me, +not at all. You are brought to it bit by bit; and when you reach the +spot, you rather like the view. And it is so with graver things. We grow +able to do and to bear that which it is needful that we should do and +bear. As is the day, so the strength proves to be. And you have heard +people tell you truly, that they have been enabled to bear what they +never thought they could have come through with their reason or their +life. I have no fear for the Christian man, so he keeps to the path of +duty. Straining up the steep hill, his heart will grow stout in just +proportion to its steepness. Yes, and if the call to martyrdom came, I +should not despair of finding men who would show themselves equal to it, +even in this commonplace age, and among people who wear Highland cloaks +and knickerbockers. The martyr's strength would come with the martyr's +day. It is because there is no call for it now, that people look so +little like it. + +It is very difficult, in this world, to strongly enforce a truth, +without seeming to push it into an extreme. You are very apt, in +avoiding one error, to run into the opposite error; forgetting that +truth and right lie generally between two extremes. And in agreeing with +Sydney Smith, as to the wisdom and the duty of "taking short views," let +us take care of appearing to approve the doings of those foolish and +unprincipled people who will keep no outlook into the future time at +all. A bee, you know, cannot see more than a single inch before it; and +there are many men, and perhaps more women, who appear, as regards their +domestic concerns, to be very much of bees: not bees in the respect of +being busy; but bees in the respect of being blind. You see this in all +ranks of life. You see it in the artisan, earning good wages, yet with +every prospect of being weeks out of work next summer or winter, who yet +will not be persuaded to lay by a little in preparation for a rainy day. +You see it in the country gentleman, who, having five thousand a year; +spends ten thousand a year; resolutely shutting his eyes to the certain +and not very remote consequences. You see it in the man who walks into a +shop and buys a lot of things which he has not the money to pay for, +in the vague hope that something will turn up. It is a comparatively +thoughtful and anxious class of men who systematically overcloud the +present by anticipations of the future. The more usual thing is to +sacrifice the future to the present; to grasp at what in the way of +present gratification or gain can be got, with very little thought of +the consequences. You see silly women, the wives of men whose families +are mainly dependent on their lives, constantly urging on their husbands +to extravagances which eat up the little provision which might have been +made for themselves and their children when he is gone who earned their +bread. There is no sadder sight, I think, than that which is not a very +uncommon sight, the careworn, anxious husband, laboring beyond his +strength, often sorrowfully calculating how he may make the ends to +meet, denying himself in every way; and the extravagant idiot of a wife, +bedizened with jewelry and arrayed in velvet and lace, who tosses away +his hard earnings in reckless extravagance; in entertainments which +he cannot afford, given to people who do not care a rush for him; in +preposterous dress; in absurd furniture; in needless men-servants; in +green-grocers above measure; in resolute aping of the way of living of +people with twice or three times the means. It is sad to see all the +forethought, prudence, and moderation of the wedded pair confined to one +of them. You would say that it will not be any solid consolation to the +widow, when the husband is fairly worried into his grave at last,--when +his daughters have to go out as governesses, and she has to let +lodgings,--to reflect that while he lived they never failed to have +Champagne at his dinner-parties; and that they had three men to wait at +table on such occasions, while Mr. Smith, next door, had never more than +one and a maidservant. If such idiotic women would but look forward, and +consider how all this must end! If the professional man spends all he +earns, what remains when the supply is cut off; when the toiling head +and hand can toil no more? Ah, a little of the economy and management +which must perforce be practised after _that_ might have tended +powerfully to put off the evil day. Sometimes the husband is merely the +careworn drudge who provides what the wife squanders. Have you not known +such a thing as that a man should be laboring under an Indian sun, and +cutting down every personal expense to the last shilling, that he might +send a liberal allowance to his wife in England; while she meanwhile +was recklessly spending twice what was thus sent her; running up +overwhelming accounts, dashing about to public balls, paying for a +bouquet what cost the poor fellow far away much thought to save, +giving costly entertainments at home, filling her house with idle and +empty-headed scapegraces, carrying on scandalous flirtations; till +it becomes a happy thing, if the certain ruin she is bringing on her +husband's head is cut short by the needful interference of Sir Cresswell +Cresswell? There are cases in which tarring and feathering would soothe +the moral sense of the right-minded onlooker. And even where things are +not so bad as in the case of which we have been thinking, it remains +the social curse of this age, that people with a few hundreds a year +determinedly act in various respects as if they had as many thousands. +The dinner given by a man with eight hundred a year, in certain regions +of the earth which I could easily point out, is, as regards food, wine, +and attendance, precisely the same as the dinner given by another man +who has five thousand a year. When will this end? When will people +see its silliness? In truth, you do not really, as things are in this +country, make many people better off by adding a little or a good deal +to their yearly income. For in all probability they were living up to +the very extremity of their means before they got the addition; and in +all probability the first thing they do, on getting the addition, is so +far to increase their establishment and their expense that it is just +as hard a struggle as ever to make the ends meet. It would not be a +pleasant arrangement, that a man who was to be carried across the +straits from England to France should be fixed on a board so weighted +that his mouth and nostrils should be at the level of the water, thus +that he should be struggling for life, and barely escaping drowning +all the way. Yet hosts of people, whom no one proposes to put under +restraint, do as regards their income and expenditure a precisely +analogous thing. They deliberately weight themselves to that degree that +their heads are barely above water, and that any unforeseen emergency +dips their heads under. They rent a house a good deal dearer than they +can justly afford; and they have servants more and more expensive than +they ought; and by many such things they make sure that their progress +through life shall be a drowning struggle: while, if they would +rationally resolve and manfully confess that they cannot afford to have +things as richer folk have them, and arrange their way of living in +accordance with what they can afford, they would enjoy the feeling of +ease and comfort; they would not be ever on the wretched stretch on +which they are now, nor keeping up the hollow appearance of what is +not the fact. But there are folk who make it a point of honor never to +admit, that, in doing or not doing anything, they are actuated for an +instant by so despicable a consideration as the question whether or not +they can afford it. And who shall reckon up the brains which this social +calamity has driven into disease, or the early paralytic shocks which it +has brought on? + +When you were very young, and looked forward to Future Years, did +you ever feel a painful fear that you might outgrow your early home +affections, and your associations with your native scenes? Did you ever +think to yourself,--Will the day come when I shall have been years away +from that river's side, and yet not care? I think we have all known the +feeling. O plain church, to which I used to go when I was a child, and +where I used to think the singing so very splendid! O little room, where +I used to sleep! and you, tall tree, on whose topmost branch I cut the +initials which perhaps the reader knows! did I not even then wonder to +myself if the time and would ever come when I should be far away from +you,--far away, as now, for many years, and not likely to go back,--and +yet feel entirely indifferent to the matter? and did not I even then +feel a strange pain in the fear that very likely it might? These +things come across the mind of a little boy with a curious grief and +bewilderment. Ah, there is something strange in the inner life of a +thoughtful child of eight years old! I would rather see a faithful +record of his thoughts, feelings, fancies, and sorrows, for a single +week, than know all the political events that have happened during that +space in Spain, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Russia, and Turkey. Even amid +the great grief at leaving home for school in your early days, did you +not feel a greater grief to think that the day might come when you would +not care at all; when your home ties and affections would be outgrown; +when you would be quite content to live on, month after month, far from +parents, sisters, brothers, and feel hardly a perceptible blank when you +remembered that they were far away? But it is of the essence of such +fears, that, when the thing comes that you were afraid of, it has ceased +to be fearful; still it is with a little pang that you sometimes call to +remembrance how much you feared it once. It is a daily regret, though +not a very acute one, (more's the pity,) to be thrown much, in middle +life, into the society of an old friend whom as a boy you had regarded +as very wise, and to be compelled to observe that he is a tremendous +fool. You struggle with the conviction; you think it wrong to give in to +it; but you cannot help it. But it would have been a sharper pang to the +child's heart, to have impressed upon the child the fact, that "Good Mr. +Goose is a fool, and some day you will understand that he is." In those +days one admits no imperfection in the people and the things one likes. +You like a person; and _he is good. That_ seems the whole case. You do +not go into exceptions and reservations. I remember how indignant I +felt, as a boy, at reading some depreciatory criticism of the "Waverley +Novels." The criticism was to the effect that the plots generally +dragged at first, and were huddled up at the end. But to me the novels +were enchaining, enthralling; and to hint a defect in them stunned one. +In the boy's feeling, if a thing be good, why, there cannot be anything +bad about it. But in the man's mature judgment, even in the people he +likes best, and in the things he appreciates most highly, there are many +flaws and imperfections. It does not vex us much now to find that this +is so; but it would have greatly vexed us many years since to have +been told that it would be so. I can well imagine, that, if you told a +thoughtful and affectionate child, how well he would some day get on, +far from his parents and his home, his wish would be that any evil might +befall him rather than that! We shrink with terror from the prospect of +things which we can take easily enough when they come. I dare say Lord +Chancellor Thurlow was moderately sincere when he exclaimed in the House +of Peers, "When I forget my king, may my God forget me!" And you will +understand what Leigh Hunt meant, when, in his pleasant poem of "The +Palfrey," he tells us of a daughter who had lost a very bad and +heartless father by death, that, + + "The daughter wept, and wept the more, + To think her tears would soon be o'er." + +Even in middle age, one sad thought which comes in the prospect of +Future Years is of the change which they are sure to work upon many of +our present views and feelings. And the change, in many cases, will be +to the worse. One thing is certain,--that your temper will grow worse, +if it do not grow better. Years will sour it, if they do not mellow it. +Another certain thing is, that, if you do not grow wiser, you will be +growing more foolish. It is very true that there is no fool so foolish +as an old fool. Let us hope, my friend, that, whatever be our honest +worldly work, it may never lose its interest. We must always speak +humbly about the changes which coming time will work upon us, upon even +our firmest resolutions and most rooted principles; or I should say for +myself that I cannot even imagine myself the same being, with bent less +resolute and heart less warm to that best of all employments which is +the occupation of my life. But there are few things which, as we grow +older, impress us more deeply than the transitoriness of thoughts and +feelings in human hearts. + +Nor am I thinking of contemptible people only, when I say so. I am not +thinking of the fellow who is pulled up in court in an action for breach +of promise of marriage, and who in one letter makes vows of unalterable +affection, and in another letter, written a few weeks or months later, +tries to wriggle out of his engagement. Nor am I thinking of the weak, +though well-meaning lady, who devotes herself in succession to a great +variety of uneducated and unqualified religious instructors; who tells +you one week how she has joined the flock of Mr. A., the converted +prize-fighter, and how she regards him as by far the most improving +preacher she ever heard; and who tells you the next week that she has +seen through the prize-fighter, that he has gone and married a wealthy +Roman Catholic, and that now she has resolved to wait on the ministry of +Mr. B., an enthusiastic individual who makes shoes during the week and +gives sermons on Sundays, and in whose addresses she finds exactly what +suits her. I speak of the better feelings and purposes of wiser, if not +better folk. Let me think here of pious emotions and holy resolutions, +of the best and purest frames of heart and mind. Oh, if we could all +always remain at our best! And after all, permanence is the great test. +In the matter of Christian faith and feeling, in the matter of all our +worthier principles and purposes, that which lasts longest is best. +This, indeed, is true of most things. The worth of anything depends much +upon its durability,--upon the wear that is in it. A thing that is +merely a fine flash and over only disappoint. The highest authority has +recognized this. You remember Who said to his friends, before leaving +them, that He would have them bring forth fruit, and much fruit. But +not even _that_ was enough. The fairest profession for a time, the most +earnest labor for a time, the most ardent affection for a time, would +not suffice. And so the Redeemer's words were,--"I have chosen you, and +ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that _your +fruit should remain."_ Well, let us trust, that, in the most solemn of +all respects, only progress shall be brought to us by all the changes of +Future Years. + +But it is quite vain to think that feelings, as distinguished from +principles, shall not lose much of their vividness, freshness, and +depth, as time goes on. You cannot now by any effort revive the +exultation you felt at some unexpected great success, nor the +heart-sinking of some terrible loss or trial. You know how women, after +the death of a child, determine that every day, as long as they live, +they will visit the little grave. And they do so for a time, +sometimes for a long time; but they gradually leave off. You know how +burying-places are very trimly and carefully kept at first, and how +flowers are hung upon the stone; but these things gradually cease. You +know how many husbands and wives, after their partner's death, determine +to give the remainder of life to the memory of the departed, and would +regard with sincere horror the suggestion that it was possible they +should ever marry again; but after a while they do. And you will even +find men, beyond middle age, who made a tremendous work at their first +wife's death, and wore very conspicuous mourning, who in a very few +months may be seen dangling after some new fancy, and who in the +prospect of their second marriage evince an exhilaration that approaches +to crackiness. It is usual to speak of such things in a ludicrous +manner; but I confess the matter seems to me anything but one to laugh +at. I think that the rapid dying out of warm feelings, the rapid +change of fixed resolutions, is one of the most sorrowful subjects of +reflection which it is possible to suggest. Ah, my friends, after we +die, it would not be expedient, even if it were possible, to come back. +Many of us would not like to find how very little they miss us. But +still, it is the manifest intention of the Creator that strong feelings +should be transitory. The sorrowful thing is when they pass and leave +absolutely no trace behind them. There should always he some corner kept +in the heart for a feeling which once possessed it all. Let us look at +the case temperately. Let us face and admit the facts. The healthy body +and mind can get over a great deal; but there are some things which it +is not to the credit of our nature should ever be entirely got over. +Here are sober truth, and sound philosophy, and sincere feeling +together, in the words of Philip van Artevelde:-- + + "Well, well, she's gone, + And I have tamed my sorrow. Pain and grief + Are transitory things, no less than joy; + And though they leave us not the men we were, + Yet they do leave us. You behold me here, + A man bereaved, with something of a blight + Upon the early blossoms of his life, + And its first verdure,--having not the less + A living root, and drawing from the earth + Its vital juices, from the air its powers: + And surely as man's heart and strength are whole, + His appetites regerminate, his heart + Reopens, and his objects and desires + Spring up renewed." + +But though Artevelde speaks truly and well, you remember how Mr. +Taylor, in that noble play, works out to our view the sad sight of the +deterioration of character, the growing coarseness and harshness, +the lessening tenderness and kindliness, which are apt to come with +advancing years. Great trials, we know, passing over us, may influence +us either for the worse or the better; and unless our nature is a very +obdurate and poor one, though they may leave us, they will not leave us +the men we were. Once, at a public meeting, I heard a man in eminent +station make a speech. I had never seen him before; but I remembered an +inscription which I had read, in a certain churchyard far away, upon the +stone that marked the resting-place of his young wife, who had died many +years before. I thought of its simple words of manly and hearty sorrow. +I knew that the eminence he had reached had not come till she who would +have been proudest of it was beyond knowing it or caring for it. And I +cannot say with what interest and satisfaction I thought I could trace, +in the features which were sad without the infusion of a grain of +sentimentalism, in the subdued and quiet tone of the man's whole aspect +and manner and address, the manifest proof that he had not shut down the +leaf upon that old page of his history, that he had never quite got over +that great grief of earlier years. One felt better and more hopeful for +the sight. I suppose many people, after meeting some overwhelming loss +or trial, have fancied that they would soon die; but that is almost +invariably a delusion. Various dogs have died of a broken heart, but +very few human beings. The Inferior creature has pined away at his +master's loss: as for _us_, it is not that one would doubt the depth +and sincerity of sorrow, but that there is more endurance in our +constitution, and that God has appointed that grief shall rather mould +and influence than kill. It is a much sadder sight than an early death, +to see human beings live on after heavy trial, and sink into something +very unlike their early selves and very inferior to their early selves. +I can well believe that many a human being, if he could have a glimpse +in innocent youth of what he will be twenty or thirty years after, would +pray in anguish to be taken before coming to _that!_ Mansie Wauch's +glimpse of destitution was bad enough; but a million times worse is a +glimpse of hardened and unabashed sin and shame. And it would be no +comfort--it would be an aggravation in that view--to think that by the +time you have reached that miserable point, you will have grown pretty +well reconciled to it. _That_ is the worst of all. To be wicked and +depraved, and to feel it, and to be wretched under it, is bad enough; +but it is a great deal worse to have fallen into that depth of moral +degradation and to feel that really you don't care. The instinct of +accommodation is not always a blessing. It is happy for us, that, though +in youth we hoped to live in a castle or a palace, we can make up our +mind to live in a little parsonage or a quiet street in a country town. +It is happy for us, that, though in youth we hoped to be very great and +famous, we are so entirely reconciled to being little and unknown. But +it is not happy for the poor girl who walks the Haymarket at night that +she feels her degradation so little. It is not happy that she has come +to feel towards her miserable life so differently now from what she +would have felt towards it, had it been set before her while she was the +blooming, thoughtless creature in the little cottage in the country. It +is only by fits and starts that the poor drunken wretch, living in a +garret upon a little pittance allowed him by his relations, who was once +a man of character and hope, feels what a sad pitch he has come to. If +you could get him to feel it constantly, there would be some hope of his +reclamation even yet. + +It seems to me a very comforting thought, in looking on to Future Years, +if you are able to think that you are in a profession or a calling from +which you will never retire. For the prospect of a total change in your +mode of life, and the entire cessation of the occupation which for many +years employed the greater part of your waking thoughts, and all this +amid the failing powers and flagging hopes of declining years, is both a +sad and a perplexing prospect to a thoughtful person. For such a person +cannot regard this great change simply in the light of a rest from toil +and worry; he will know quite well what a blankness and listlessness and +loss of interest in life will come of feeling all at once that you have +nothing at all to do. And so it is a great blessing, if your vocation be +one which is a dignified and befitting one for an old man to be engaged +in, one that beseems his gravity--and his long experience, one that +beseems even his slow movements and his white hairs. It is a pleasant +thing to see an old man a judge; his years become the judgment-seat. But +then the old man can hold such an office only while he retains strength +of body and mind efficiently to perform its duties; and he must do all +his work for himself: and accordingly a day must come when the venerable +Chancellor resigns the Great Seal; when the aged Justice or Baron must +give up his place; and when these honored Judges, though still retaining +considerable vigor, but vigor less than enough for their hard work, are +compelled to feel that their occupation is gone. And accordingly I +hold that what is the best of all professions, for many reasons, is +especially so for this, that you need never retire from it. In the +Church you need not do all your duty yourself. You may get assistance to +supplement your own lessening strength. The energetic young curate or +curates may do that part of the parish work which exceeds the power of +the aging incumbent, while the entire parochial machinery has still the +advantage of being directed by his wisdom and experience, and while the +old man is still permitted to do what he can with such strength as is +spared to him, and to feel that he is useful in the noblest cause yet. +And even to extremest age and frailty,--to age and frailty which would +long since have incapacitated the judge for the bench,--the parish +clergyman may take some share in the much-loved duty in which he has +labored so long. He may still, though briefly, and only now and then, +address his flock from the pulpit, in words which his very feebleness +will make far more touchingly effective than the most vigorous eloquence +and the richest and fullest tones of his young coadjutors. There never +will be, within the sacred walls, a silence and reverence more +profound than when the withered kindly face looks as of old upon the +congregation, to whose fathers its owner first ministered, and which has +grown up mainly under his instruction,--and when the voice that falls +familiarly on so many ears tells again, quietly and earnestly, the old +story which we all need so much to hear. And he may still look in at the +parish school, and watch the growth of a generation that is to do the +work of life when he is in his grave; and kindly smooth the children's +heads; and tell them how One, once a little child, and never more +than a young man, brought salvation alike to young and old. +He may still sit by the bedside of the sick and dying, and +speak to such with the sympathy and the solemnity of one who does +not forget that the last great realities are drawing near to both. But +there are vocations which are all very well for young or middle-aged +people, but which do not quite suit the old. Such is that of the +barrister. Wrangling and hair-splitting, browbeating and bewildering +witnesses, making coarse jokes to excite the laughter of common +jury-men, and addressing such with clap-trap bellowings, are not the +work for gray-headed men. If such remain at the bar, rather let them +have the more refined work of the Equity Courts, where you +address judges, and not juries; and where you spare clap-trap and +misrepresentation, if for no better reason, because you know that these +will not stand you in the slightest stead. The work which best befits +the aged, the work for which no mortal can ever become too venerable and +dignified or too weak and frail, is the work of Christian usefulness and +philanthropy. And it is a beautiful sight to see, as I trust we all have +seen, _that_ work persevered in with the closing energies of life. It +is a noble test of the soundness of the principle that prompted to its +first undertaking. It is a hopeful and cheering sight to younger men, +looking out with something of fear to the temptations and trials of the +years before them. Oh! if the gray-haired clergyman, with less now, +indeed, of physical strength and mere physical warmth, yet preaches, +with the added weight and solemnity of his long experience, the same +blessed doctrines now, after forty years, that he preached in his +early prime; if the philanthropist of half a century since is the +philanthropist still,--still kind, hopeful, and unwearied, though with +the snows of age upon his head, and the hand that never told its fellow +of what it did now trembling as it does the deed of mercy; then I think +that even the most doubtful will believe that the principle and the +religion of such men were a glorious reality! The sternest of all +touchstones of the genuineness of our better feelings is the fashion in +which they stand the wear of years. + +But my shortening space warns me to stop; and I must cease, for the +present, from these thoughts of Future Years,--cease, I mean, from +writing about that mysterious tract before us: who can cease from +thinking of it? You remember how the writer of that little poem which +has been quoted asks Time to touch gently him and his. Of course he +spoke as a poet, stating the case fancifully,--but not forgetting, that, +when we come to sober sense, we must prefer our requests to an Ear more +ready to hear us and a Hand more ready to help. It is not to Time that I +shall apply to lead me through life into immortality! And I cannot think +of years to come without going back to a greater poet, whom we need not +esteem the less because his inspiration was loftier than that of the +Muses, who has summed up so grandly in one comprehensive sentence all +the possibilities which could befall _him_ in the days and ages before +him. "Thou shall guide me with Thy counsel, and afterward receive me to +glory!" Let us humbly trust that in that sketch, round and complete, of +all that can ever come to us, my readers and I may be able to read the +history of our Future Years! + + + + +BROTHER JONATHAN'S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE. + + + She has gone,--she has left us in passion and pride,-- + Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side! + She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow, + And turned on her brother the face of a foe! + + O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, + We can never forget that our hearts have been one,-- + Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty's name, + From the fountain of blood with the finger of flame! + + You were always too ready to fire at a touch; + But we said, "She is hasty,--she does not mean much." + We have scowled, when you uttered some turbulent threat; + But Friendship still whispered, "Forgive and forget!" + + Has our love all died out? Have its altars grown cold? + Has the curse come at last which the fathers foretold? + Then Nature must teach us the strength of the chain + That her petulant children would sever in vain. + + They may fight till the buzzards are gorged with their spoil, + Till the harvest grows black as it rots in the soil, + Till the wolves and the catamounts troop from their caves, + And the shark tracks the pirate, the lord of the waves: + + In vain is the strife! When its fury is past, + Their fortunes must flow in one channel at last, + As the torrents that rush from the mountains of snow + Roll mingled in peace through the valleys below. + + Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky: + Man breaks not the medal, when God cuts the die! + Though darkened with sulphur, though cloven with steel, + The blue arch will brighten, the waters will heal! + + O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, + There are battles with Fate that can never be won! + The star-flowering banner must never be furled, + For its blossoms of light are the hope of the world! + + Go, then, our rash sister! afar and aloof,-- + Run wild in the sunshine away from our roof; + But when your heart aches and your feet have grown sore, + Remember the pathway that leads to our door! + + + + +ORIGINAL MEMORIALS OF MRS. PIOZZI. + + +Ninety years ago, one of the pleasantest houses near London, for the +society that gathered within it, was Mr., or rather, Mrs. Thrale's, +at Streatham Park. To be a guest there was to meet the best people in +England, and to hear such good talk that much of it has not lost its +flavor even yet. Strawberry Hill, Holland House, or any other famous +house of that day, has left but faint memories of itself, compared with +those of Streatham. Boswell, the most sagacious of men in the hunt after +good company, had the good wit and good fortune to get entrance here. +One day, in 1769, Dr. Johnson delivered him "a very polite card" from +Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, inviting him to Streatham. "On the 6th of October, +I complied," he says, "with their obliging invitation, and found, at +an elegant villa six miles from town, every circumstance that can make +society pleasing." Upon the walls of the library hung portraits of the +master and mistress of the house, and of their most familiar friends and +guests, all by Sir Joshua. Madame d'Arblay, in her most entertaining +"Diary," gives a list of them,--and a list is all that is needed of such +famous names. "Mrs. Thrale and her eldest daughter were in one piece, +over the fireplace, at full length. The rest of the pictures were all +three-quarters. Mr. Thrale was over the door leading to his study. +The general collection then began by Lord Sandys and Lord Westcote, +(Lyttelton,) two early noble friends of Mr. Thrale. Then followed Dr. +Johnson, Mr. Burke, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Murphy, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Baretti, +Sir Robert Chambers, and Sir Joshua Reynolds himself,--all painted in +the highest style of this great master, who much delighted in this his +Streatham Gallery. There was place left but for one more frame when the +acquaintance with Dr. Burney began at Streatham." + +A household which had such men for its intimates must have had a more +than common charm in itself, and at Streatham this charm lay chiefly in +the character of its mistress. It was Mrs. Thrale who had the rare power +"to call together the most select company when it pleased her." In 1770 +she was thirty years old. A small and not beautiful woman, but with +a variety of expression that more than compensated for the want of +handsome features, with a frank, animated manner, and that highest tact +which sets guests at ease, there was something specially attractive in +her first address. But beyond this she was the pleasantest converser of +all the ladies of the day. In that art in which one "has all mankind for +competitors," there was no one equal to her in her way. Gifted with the +readiest of well-stored memories, with a lively wit and sprightly fancy, +with a strong desire to please and an ambition to shine, she never +failed to win admiration, while her sweetness of temper and delicate +consideration for others gained for her a general regard. For many years +she was the friend who did most to make Johnson's life happy. He was a +constant inmate at Streatham. "I long thought you," wrote he, "the first +of womankind." It was her "kindness which soothed twenty years of a life +radically wretched." "To see and hear you," he wrote, "is always to hear +wit and to see virtue." She belonged, in truth, to the most serviceable +class of women,--by no means to the highest order of her sex. She was +not a woman of deep heart, or of noble or tender feeling; but she had +kindly and ready sympathies, and such a disposition to please as gave +her the capacity of pleasing. Her very faults added to her success. She +was vain and ambitious; but her vanity led her to seek the praises of +others, and her ambition taught her how to gain them. She was selfish; +but she pleased herself not at the expense of others, but by paying them +attentions which returned to her in personal gratifications. She was +made for such a position as that which she held at Streatham. The +highest eulogy of her is given in an incidental way by Boswell. He +reports Johnson as saying one day, "'How few of his friends' houses +would a man choose to be at when he is sick!' He mentioned one or two. I +recollect only Thrale's." + +All the world of readers know the main incidents of Mrs. Thrale's life. +Her own books, Boswell, Madame d'Arblay, have made us almost as familiar +with her as with Dr. Johnson himself. Not yet have people got tired of +wondering at her marriage with Piozzi, or of amusing themselves with +the gossip of the old lady who remained a wit at eighty years old, and, +having outlived her great contemporaries, was happy in not outliving +her own faculties. Few characters not more remarkable have been more +discussed than hers. Macaulay, with characteristic unfairness, gave +a view of her conduct which Mr. Hayward, in his recently published +entertaining volumes,[A] shows to have been in great part the invention +of the great essayist's lively and unprincipled imagination. In the +autobiographical memorials of Mrs. Piozzi, now for the first time +printed, there is much that throws light on her life, and her relations +with her contemporaries. They do not so much raise one's respect for +her, as present her to us as a very natural and generally likable sort +of woman, even in those acts of her life which have been the most +blamed. + +[Footnote A: _Autobiography, Letters, and Literary Remains of Mrs. +Piozzi (Thrale)_. Edited, with Notes and an Introductory Account of her +Life and Writings, by A. Hayward, Esq., Q.C. In Two Volumes. London, +1861. Reprinted by Ticknor & Fields.] + +If she had but died while she was mistress of Streatham, we should have +only delightful recollections of her. She would have been one of the +most agreeable famous women on record. But the last forty years of her +life were not as charming as the first. Her weaknesses gained mastery +over her, her vanity led her into follies, and she who had once been the +favorite correspondent of Dr. Johnson now appears as the correspondent +of such inferior persona that no association is connected with their +names. Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. Piozzi are two different persons. One +belongs to Streatham, the other to Bath; one is "always young and always +pretty," the other a rouged old woman. But it is unfair to push the +contrast too far. Mrs. Piozzi at seventy or eighty was as sprightly, +as good-natured, as Mrs. Thrale at thirty or forty. She never lost her +vivacity, never her desire to please. But it is a sadly different thing +to please Dr. Johnson, Burke, or Sir Joshua, and to please + + Those real genuine no-mistake Tom Thumbs, + The little people fed on great men's crumbs. + +One of the most marked and least satisfactory expressions of Mrs. +Piozzi's character during her later years was a fancy that she took to +Conway, a young and handsome actor, who appeared in Bath, where she was +then living, in the year 1819. From the time of her first acquaintance +with him, till her death, in 1821, she treated him with the most +flattering regard,--with an affection, indeed, that might be called +motherly, had there not been in it an element of excitement which was +neither maternal nor dignified. Conway was a gentleman in feeling, and +seems to have had not only a grateful sense of the old lady's partiality +for him, but a sincere interest also in hearing from her of the days and +the friends of her youth. So she wrote letters to him, gave him books +filled with annotations, (it was a favorite habit of hers to write notes +on the margins of books,) wrote for him the story of her life, and drew +on the resources of her marvellous memory for his amusement. The old +woman's kindness was one of the few bright things in poor Conway's +unhappy life. His temperament was morbidly sensitive; and when, in 1821, +while acting in London, Theodore Hook attacked him in the most cruel +and offensive manner in the columns of the "John Bull," he threw up his +engagement, determined to act no more in London, and for a time left the +stage. A year or two afterwards he came to this country, and met with a +very considerable success. But he fancied himself underrated, and, after +performing in Philadelphia in the winter of 1826, he took passage for +Charleston, and on the voyage threw himself overboard and was lost. His +effects were afterwards sold by auction in New York. Among them were +many interesting relics and memorials of Mrs. Piozzi. Mr. Hayward +mentions "a copy of the folio edition of Young's 'Night Thoughts,' in +which he had made a note of its having been presented to him by his +'dearly attached friend, the celebrated Mrs. Piozzi.'" But there were +other books of far greater interest and value than this. There was, as +we have been informed, a copy of Malone's Shakspeare, with numerous +notes in the handwriting of Dr. Johnson,--and a copy of "Prayers and +Meditations by Samuel Johnson," with several additional manuscript +prayers, and Mrs. Piozzi's name upon one of the fly-leaves. But more +curious still was a copy of Mrs. Piozzi's "Journey through France, +Italy, and Germany," both volumes of which are full of marginal notes, +while, inserted at the beginning and the end, are many pages of Mrs. +Piozzi's beautifully written manuscript, containing a narrative and +anecdotes of portions of her life. These volumes now lie before us,[B] +and their unpublished contents are as lively, as entertaining, and as +rich in autobiographic illustration, as any of the material of which Mr. +Hayward's recent book is composed. + +[Footnote B: This unique copy of the _Journey through France_, etc., is +in the possession of Mr. Duncan C. Pell, of Newport, R.I. It is to his +liberality that we are indebted for the privilege of laying before +the readers of the Atlantic the following portions of Mrs. Piozzi's +manuscript.] + +On the first fly-leaf is the following inscription:-- + +"These Books do not in any wise belong to me; they are the property of +William Augustus Conway, Esq., who left them to my care, for purpose of +putting notes, when he quitted Bath, May 14, 1819. + +"Hester Lynch Piozzi writes this for fear lest her death happening +before his return, these books might be confounded among the others in +her study." + +On the next page the narrative begins, and with a truly astonishing +spirit for the writing of a woman in her eightieth year. Her old +vivacity is still natural to her; there is nothing forced in the +pleasantry of this introduction. + +"A Lady once--'t was many years ago--asked me to lend her a book out +of my library at Streatham Park. 'A book of entertainment,' said J, 'of +course.' 'That I don't know or rightly comprehend;' was her odd answer; +'I wish for an _Abridgment_.' 'An Abridgment of what?' '_That_,' she +replied, 'you must tell _me_, my Dear; for I am no reader, like you and +Dr. Johnson; I only remember that the last book I read was very pretty, +and my husband called it an Abridgment.'.... And if I give some account +of myself here in these few little sheets prefixed to my 'Journey thro' +Italy,' you must kindly accept + +"The Abridgment." + +The first pages of the manuscript are occupied by Mrs. Piozzi with an +account of her family and of her own early life. They contain in brief +the same narrative that she gave in her "Autobiographical Memoirs," +printed by Mr. Hayward, in his first volume. Here is a story, however, +which we do not remember to have seen before. + +"My heart was free, my head full of Authors, Actors, Literature in every +shape; and I had a dear, dear friend, an old Dr. Collier, who said he +was sixty-six years old, I remember, the day I was sixteen, and whose +instructions I prized beyond all the gayeties of early life: nor have I +ever passed a day since we parted in which I have not recollected with +gratitude the boundless obligations that I owe him. He was intimate with +the famous James Harris of Salisbury, Lord Malmesbury's father, of whom +you have heard how Charles Townshend said, when he took his seat in the +House of Commons,--'Who is this man?'--to his next neighbour; +'I never saw him before.' 'Who? Why, Harris the author, that wrote one +book about Grammar [so he did] and one about Virtue.' 'What does he come +here for?' replies Spanish Charles; 'he will find neither Grammar nor +Virtue _here_.' Well, my dear old Dr. Collier had much of both, and +delighted to shake the superflux of his full mind over mine, ready to +receive instruction conveyed with so much tender assiduity." + +In both her autobiographies, the printed as well as the manuscript, Mrs. +Piozzi speaks in very cold and disparaging terms of her first husband, +Mr. Thrale. Her marriage with him had not been a love-match; but we +suspect that the long course of years had been unfavorable to his memory +in her recollection, and that the blame with which his friends visited +her second marriage, which was in all respects an affair of the heart, +produced in her a certain bitterness of feeling toward Mr. Thrale, as if +he had been the author of these reproaches. It is impossible to believe +that he was as indifferent to her as she represents, and that her +marriage with him was not moderately happy. Had it been otherwise, +however well appearances might have been kept up, Dr. Johnson could +hardly have been deceived concerning the truth, and would hardly have +ventured to write to her in his letter of consolation upon Mr. Thrale's +death in 1781,-- + +"He that has given you happiness in marriage, to a degree of which, +without personal knowledge, I should have thought the description +fabulous, can give you another mode of happiness as a mother." + +One of her most decided intellectual characteristics was her +versatility, or, to give it a harder name, what Johnson called her +"instability of attention." Dulness was, in her code, the unpardonable +sin. Variety was the charm of life, and of books. She never dwelt long +on one idea. Her letters and her books are pieces of mosaic-work, the +bits of material being put together without any regular pattern, but +often with a pretty effect. Here is an illustration of her style. + +"In a few years (our Letters tell the date) Johnson was introduced; and +now I must laugh at a ridiculous _Retrospection_. When I was a very +young wench, scarce twelve years old I trust, my notice was strongly +attracted by a Mountebank in some town we were passing through. 'What a +fine fellow!' said I; 'dear Papa, do ask him to dinner with us at our +inn!--or, at least, Merry Andrew, because he could tell us such _clever +stories of his master_.' My Father laughed sans intermission an hour by +the dial, as Jacques once at Motley.--Yet did dear Mr. Conway's fancy +for H.L.P.'s conversation grow up, at first, out of something not unlike +this, when, his high-polished mind and fervid imagination taking fire +from the tall Beacon bearing Dr. Johnson's fame above the clouds, he +thought some information might perhaps be gained by talk with the old +female who so long _carried coals to it_. She has told all, or nearly +all, she knew,-- + + 'And like poor Andrew must advance, + Mean mimic of her master's dance;-- + But similes, like songs in love, + Describing much, too little prove.' + +"So now, leaving Prior's pretty verses, and leaving Dr. Johnson too, who +was himself severely censured for his rough criticism on a writer who +had pleased all in our Augustan age of Literature, poor H.L.P. turns +egotist at eighty, and tells her own adventures." + +But the octogenarian egotist has something to tell about beside herself. +Here is a passage of interest to the student of Shakspearian localities, +and bearing on a matter in dispute from the days of Malone and Chalmers. + +"For a long time, then,--or I thought it such,--my fate was bound up +with the old Globe Theatre, upon the Bankside, Southwark; the alley it +had occupied having been purchased and thrown down by Mr. Thrale to +make an opening before the windows of our dwelling-house. When it lay +desolate in a black heap of rubbish, my Mother, one day, in joke, +called it the Ruins of Palmyra; and after they had laid it down in a +grass-plot, Palmyra was the name it went by, I suppose, among the clerks +and servants of the brew-house; for when the Quaker Barclay bought the +whole, I read that name with wonder in the Writings."--"But there +were really curious remains of the old Globe Playhouse, which, though +hexagonal in form without, was round within, as circles contain more +space than other shapes, and Bees make their cells in hexagons only +because that figure best admits of junction. Before I quitted the +premises, however, I learned that Tarleton, the actor of those times, +was not buried at St. Saviour's, Southwark, as he wished, near Massinger +and Cower, but at Shoreditch Church. _He_ was the first of the +profession whose fame was high enough to have his portrait solicited for +to be set up as a Sign; and none but he and Garrick, I believe, ever +obtained that honour. Mr. Dance's picture of our friend David lives in a +copy now in Oxford St.,--the character, King Richard." + +Somewhat more than three years after her first husband's death, Mrs. +Thrale, in spite of the opposition of her friends, the repugnance of +her daughters, and the sneers of society, married Piozzi. He was a poor +Italian gentleman, whose only fortune was in his voice and his musical +talent. He had been for some time an admired public singer in London and +Paris. There was nothing against him but the opinion of society. Mrs. +Thrale set this opinion at defiance: a rash thing for a woman to do, and +hardly an excusable one in her case; for she was aware that she would +thus alienate her daughters, and offend her best friends. But she was in +love with him; and though for a time she tried to struggle against her +passion, it finally prevailed over her prudence, her pride, and such +affections as she had for others. Her health suffered during +the struggle, the termination of which she thus narrates in her +"Abridgment." The account differs in some slight particulars from that +in her "Autobiographical Memoirs"; but a comparison between the two +serves rather to confirm than to impugn her general accuracy. + +"I hoped," she says, "in defiance of probability, to live my sorrows +out, and marry the man of my choice. Health, however, began to give +way, as my Letters to Dr. Johnson testify; and when my kind physician, +Dobson, from Liverpool, found it in actual and positive danger,--'Now,' +said he, 'I have respected your delicacy long enough; tell me at once +who he is that holds _such_ a life in his power: for write to him I must +and will; it is my sacred duty.' 'Dear Sir,' said I, 'the difficulty +is to keep him at a distance. Speak to these cruel girls, if you will +speak.' 'One of whose lives your assiduous tenderness,' cried he, +'saved, with my little help, only a month ago!'--and ran up-stairs to +the ladies. 'We know,' was their reply, 'that she is fretting after a +fellow; but where he is--you may ask her--we know not.' 'He is at Milan, +with his friend the Marquis of Aracieli,' said I,--'from whom I had a +letter last week, requesting Piozzi's recall from banishment, as he +gallantly terms it, little conscious of what I suffer.' So we wrote; and +he returned on the eleventh day after receiving the letter. Meanwhile +my health mended, and I waited on the lasses to their own house at +Brighthelmstone, leaving Miss Nicholson, a favorite friend of theirs, +and all their intolerably insolent servants, with them. Piozzi's return +accelerated the recovery of your poor friend, and we married in both +Churches,--at St. James', Bath, on St. James' Day, 1784,--thirty-five +years ago now that I write this Abridgment. When we came to examine +Papers, however, our attorney, Greenland, discovered a _suppression_ +of fifteen hundred pounds, which helped pay our debts, discharge the +mortgage, etc., as Piozzi, like Portia, permitted me not to sleep by his +side with an unquiet soul. He settled everything with his own money, +depended on God and my good constitution for our living long and happily +together,--and so we did, twenty-five years,--said change of scenery +would complete the cure, and carried me off in triumph, as he called +it, to shew his friends in Italy the foreign wife he had so long been +sighing for. 'Ah, Madam!' said the Marquis, when he first saluted me, +'we used to blame dear Piozzi;--now we envy him!'" + +Of Mrs. Piozzi's journey on the Continent we shall speak in another +article. After a residence abroad of two years and a half, she and her +husband returned to London in March, 1787. Mrs. Piozzi had come home +determined to resume, if it were possible, her old place in society, and +to assert herself against the attacks of wits and newspapers, and the +coldness of old friends. She had been hardly and unfairly dealt with +by the public, in regard to her marriage. The appearance, during +her absence, of her volume of "Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson" had given +unfriendly critics an opportunity to pass harsh judgment upon her +literary merits, and had excited the jealousy of rival biographers +of the dead lion. Boswell, Hawkins, Baretti, Chalmers, Peter Pindar, +Gifford, Horace Walpole, all had their fling at her. Never was an +innocent woman in private life more unfeelingly abused, or her name +dragged before the public more wantonly, in squibs and satires, jests +and innuendoes. The women who transgress social conventionalities are +often treated as if they had violated the rules of morals. But she was +not to be put down in this way. Her temperament enabled her to escape +much of the pain which a more sensitive person would have suffered. She +hardened herself against the malice of her satirists; and in doing so, +her character underwent an essential change. She was truly happy with +Piozzi, and she preserved, by strength of will, an inexhaustible fund of +good spirits. + +On first reaching London, "we drove," she writes in the Conway MSS., "to +the Royal Hotel in Pall Mall, and, arriving early, I proposed going to +the Play. There was a small front box, in those days, which held only +two; it made the division, or connexion, with the side boxes, and, +being unoccupied, we sat in it, and saw Mrs. Siddons act Imogen, I well +remember, and Mrs. Jordan, Priscilla Tomboy. Mr. Piozzi was amused, and +the next day was spent in looking at houses, counting the cards left +by old acquaintances, etc. The lady-daughters came, behaved with cold +civility, and asked what I thought of their decision concerning Cecilia, +then at school--No reply was made, or a gentle one; but she was the +first cause of contention among us. The lawyers gave her into my care, +and we took her home to our new habitation in Hanover Square, which we +opened with Music, cards, etc., on, I think, the 22 March. Miss Thrales +refused their company; so we managed as well as we could. Our affairs +were in good order, and money ready for spending. The World, as it is +called, appeared good-humored, and we were soon followed, respected, and +admired. The summer months sent us about visiting and pleasuring, ... +and after another gay London season, Streatham Park, unoccupied by +tenants, called us as if _really home_. Mr. Piozzi, with more generosity +than prudence, spent two thousand pounds on repairing and furnishing it +in 1790;--and we had danced all night, I recollect, when the news came +of Louis Seize's escape from, and recapture by, his rebel subjects." + +Poor old woman, who could thus write of her own daughters!--poor old +woman, who had not heart enough either to keep the love of her children +or to grieve for its loss! Cecilia was her fourth and youngest child, +and her story, as her mother tells it, may as well be finished here. +After speaking in her manuscript of a claim on some Oxfordshire +property, disputed by her daughters, she says, in words hard and cold +as steel,--"We threw it up, therefore, and contented ourselves with the +plague Cecilia gave us, who, by dint of intriguing lovers, teazed my +soul out before she was fifteen,--when she fortunately ran away, +jumping out of the window at Streatham Park, with Mr. Mostyn of +Segraid,--a young man to whom Sir Thomas Mostyn's title will go, if he +does not marry, but whose property, being much encumbered, made him no +match for Cecy and her forty thousand pounds; and we were censured +for not taking better care, and suffering her to wed a _Welsh_ +gentleman,--object of ineffable contempt to the daughters of Mr. Thrale, +with whom she always held correspondence while living with us, who +indulged her in every expense and every folly,--although allowed only +one hundred and forty pounds per ann. on her account." + +After two or three years spent in London, the Piozzis resided for some +time at Streatham,--how changed in mistress and in guests from the +Streatham of which Mrs. Thrale had been the presiding genius! But after +a while they removed to Wales, where, on an old family estate belonging +to Mrs. Piozzi, they built a house, and christened the place with the +queer Welsh-Italian compound name of Brynbella. "Mr. Piozzi built the +house for me, he said; my own old chateau, Bachygraig by name, tho' very +curious, was wholly uninhabitable; and we called the Italian villa he +set up as mine in the Vale of Cluid, North Wales, Brynbella, or the +beautiful brow, making the name half Welsh and half Italian, as we +were." Here they lived, with occasional visits to other places, during +the remainder of Piozzi's life. "Our head quarters were in Wales, where +dear Piozzi repaired my church, built a new vault for my old ancestors, +chose the place in it where he and I are to repose together..... He +lived some twenty-five years with me, however, but so punished with +Gout that we found Bath the best wintering-place for many, many +seasons.--Mrs. Siddons' last appearance there he witnessed, when she +played Calista to Dimond's Lothario, in which he looked _so_ like +Garrick it shocked us _all three_, I believe; for Garrick adored Mr. +Piozzi, and Siddons hated the little great man to her heart. Poor +Dimond! he was a well-bred, pleasing, worthy creature, and did the +honours of his own house and table with peculiar grace indeed. No +likeness in private life or manner,--none at all; no wit, no fun, no +frolic humour had Mr. Dimond:--no grace, no dignity, no real unaffected +elegance of mien or behaviour had his predecessor, David,--whose +partiality to my fastidious husband was for that reason never returned. +Merriment, difficult for _him_ to comprehend, made no amends for the +want of that which no one understood better;--so he hated all the wits +but Murphy." + +And now that we are on anecdotes of the Theatre, here is another good +story, which belongs to a somewhat earlier time, but of which Mrs. +Piozzi does not mention the exact date. "The Richmond Theatre at that +time attracted all literary people's attention, while a Coterie of +Gentlemen and Noblemen and Ladies entertained themselves with getting up +Plays, and acting them at the Duke of Richmond's house, Whitehall. Lee's +'Theodosius' was the favorite. Lord Henry Fitzgerald played Varanus very +well,--for a Dilettante; and Lord Derby did his part surprisingly. But +there was a song to be sung to Athenais, while she, resolving to take +poison, sits in a musing attitude. Jane Holman--then Hamilton--_would_ +sing an air of Sacchini, and the manager _would not_ hear Italian words. +The ballad appointed by the author was disapproved by all, and I pleased +everybody by my fortunate fancy of adapting some English verses to the +notes of Sacchini's song; and Jane Hamilton sung them enchantingly:-- + + 'Vain's the breath of Adulation, + Vain the tears of tenderest Passion, + Whilst a strong Imagination + Holds the wandering Mind away; + Art in vain attempts to borrow + Notes to soothe a rooted sorrow; + Fixed to die, and die to-morrow, + What can touch her soul to-day?' + +"The lines were printed, but I lost them. 'What a wild Tragedy is this!' +said I to Hannah More, who was one of the audience. 'Wild enough,' was +her reply; 'but there's good Poetry in it, and good Passion, _and they +will always do_.' + +"Hannah More never goes now to a Theatre. How long is H.L. Piozzi likely +to be seen there? How long will Mr. Conway keep the stage?" + +In the year 1798, the family of Mr. Piozzi having suffered greatly from +the French invasion of Lombardy, he sent for the son of his youngest +brother, a "little boy just turned of five years old." "We have got him +here," wrote Mrs. Piozzi in a letter from Bath, dated January, 1799, +published by Mr. Hayward, "and his uncle will take him to school next +week." "As he was by a lucky chance baptized, in compliment to me, John +Salusbury, [Salusbury was her family name,] he will be known in England +by no other, and it will be forgotten he is a foreigner." "My poor +little boy from Lombardy said, as I walked with him across our market, +'These are sheeps' heads, are they not, aunt? I saw a hasket of men's +heads at Brescia.'" Little John, though he went to school, was often at +home. After writing of the troubles with her own daughters, Mrs. Piozzi +says in the manuscript before us,--"Had we vexations enough? We had +certainly many pleasures. The house in Wales was beautiful, and the Boy +was beautiful too. Mr. Piozzi said I had spoiled my own children and was +spoiling his. My reply was, that I loved spoiling people, and hated any +one I could not spoil. Am I not now trying to spoil dear Mr. Conway?" + +Piozzi was not far from wrong in his judgment of her treatment of this +boy, if we may trust to her complaints of his coldness and indifference +to her. In 1814, at the time of his marriage, five years after Piozzi's +death, she gave to him her Welsh estate; and it may have been a greater +satisfaction to her than any gratification of the affections could have +afforded, to see him, before she died, high sheriff of his county, and +knighted as Sir John Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury. + +There was little gayety in the life at Brynbella, or at Bath,--and the +society that Mrs. Piozzi now saw was made up chiefly of new and for the +most part uninteresting acquaintances. The old Streatham set, with a few +exceptions, were dead, and of the few that remained none retained their +former relations with its mistress. But she suffered little from the +change, was contented to win and accept the flattery of inferior people, +and, instead of spending her faculties in soothing the "radically +wretched life" of Johnson, used them, perhaps not less happily, in +lightening the sufferings of Piozzi during his last years. She tells a +touching story of him in these days. + +"Piozzi's fine hand upon the organ and pianoforte deserted him. Gout, +such as I never knew, fastened on his fingers, distorting them into +every dreadful shape. ... A little girl, shewn to him as a musical +wonder of five years old, said,' Pray, Sir, why are your fingers wrapped +up in black silk so?' 'My Dear,' replied he, 'they are in mourning for +my Voice.' 'Oh, me!' cries the child, _'is she dead_?' He sung an easy +song, and the Baby exclaimed, 'Ah, Sir! you are very naughty,--you tell +fibs!' Poor Dears! and both gone now!!" + +There were no morbid sensibilities in Mrs. Piozzi's composition. She can +tell all her sorrows without ever a tear. A mark of exclamation looks +better than a blot. And yet she had suffered; but it had been with such +suffering as makes the soul hard rather than tender. The pages with +which she ends this narrative of her life are curiously characteristic. + +"When life was gradually, but perceptibly, closing round him [Piozzi] at +Bath, in 1808, I asked him if he would wish to converse with a Romish +priest,--we had full opportunity there. 'By no means,' said he. 'Call +Mr. Leman of the Crescent.' We did so,--poor Bessy ran and fetched him. +Mr. Piozzi received the blessed Sacrament at his hands; but recovered +sufficiently to go home and die in his own house. I sent for Salusbury, +but he came three hours too late,--his master, Mr. Shephard, with him. +In another year he went to Oxford, where he spent me above seven hundred +pounds per annum, and kept me in continual terror lest the bad habits of +the place should ruin him, body, soul, and purse. His old school-fellow, +Smythe Owen,--then. Pemberton,--accompanied him, and to that gentleman's +sister he of course gave his heart. The Lady and her friends took +advantage of my fondness, and insisted on my giving up the Welsh +estate. I did so, hoping to live at last with my own children, at +Streatham Park;--there, however, I found no solace of the sort. So, +after entangling my purse with new repairing and furnishing that place, +retirement to Bath with my broken heart and fortune was all I could wish +or expect. Thither I hasted, heard how the possessors of Brynbella, +lived and thrived, but + + 'Who set the twigs will he remember + Who is in haste to sell the timber?' + +"Well, no matter! One day before I left it there was talk how Love had +always Interest annexed to it. 'Nay, then,' said I, 'what is my love +for Salusbury?' 'Oh!' replied Shephard, 'there is Interest there. Mrs. +Piozzi cannot, could not, I am sure, exist without some one upon whom to +energize her affections; his Uncle is gone, and she is much obliged +to young Salusbury for being ready at her hand to pet and spoil; +her children will not suffer her to love them, and'--with a coarse +laugh--'what will she do when this fellow throws her off, as he soon +will?' Shephard was right enough. I sunk into a stupor, worse far +than all the torments I had endured: but when Canadian Indians take a +prisoner, dear Mr. Conway knows what agonies they put them to; the +man bears all without complaining,--smokes, dances, triumphs in his +anguish,-- + + 'For the son of Alcnoomak shall never complain.' + +"When a little remission comes, however, then comes the torpor too;--he +cannot then be waked by pain or moderate pleasure: and such was my +case, when your talents roused, your offered friendship opened my heart +to enjoyment Oh! never say hereafter that the obligations are on your +side. Without you, dulness, darkness, stagnation of every faculty would +have enveloped and extinguished all the powers of hapless + +"H.L.P." + +The picture that Mrs. Piozzi paints of herself in these last words is a +sad one. She herself was unconscious, however, of its real sadness. In +its unintentional revelations it shows us the feebleness without the +dignity of old age, vivacity without freshness of intellect, the +pretence without the reality of sentiment. "Hapless H.L.P."--to have +lived to eighty years, and to close the record of so long a life with +such words! + +A little more than a year after this "Abridgment" was written, in May, +1821, Mrs. Piozzi died. Her children, from whom she had lived separated, +were around her death-bed.[C] + +[Footnote C: It is but four years ago that the Viscountess Keith, Mrs. +Piozzi's eldest daughter, died. She was ninety-five years old. Her long +life connected our generation with that of Johnson and Burke. She was +the last survivor of the Streatham "set,"--for, as "Queeney," she had +held a not unimportant place in it. She was at Johnson's death-bed. At +their last interview he said,--"My dear child, we part forever in this +world; let us part as Christian friends should; let us pray together." + +It was in 1808 that Miss Thrale married Lord Keith, a distinguished +naval officer. + +In _The Gentleman's Magazine_, for May, 1657, is an interesting notice +of Lady Keith. "During many years," it is there said, "Viscountess Keith +held a distinguished position in the highest circles of the fashionable +world in London; but during the latter portion of her life.... her time +was almost entirely devoted to works of charity and to the performance +of religious duties. No one ever did more for the good of others, and +few ever did so much in so unostentatious a manner."] + +In judging her, it is to be borne in mind that the earlier and the later +portions of her life are widely different from each other. As we have +before said, Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. Piozzi are two distinct persons. Mrs. +Thrale, whom the world smiled upon, whom the wits liked and society +courted, who had the best men in England for her friends, is a woman who +will always be pleasant in memory. Her unaffected grace, her kindliness, +her good-humor, her talents, make her perpetually charming. She was +helped by her surroundings to be good, pleasant, and clever; and she +will always keep her place as one of the most attractive figures in the +circle which was formed by Johnson, and Burke, and Reynolds, and Fanny +Burney, and others scarcely less conspicuous. But Mrs. Piozzi, whom the +world frowned upon, whom the wits jeered at, and society neglected, +whose friends nobody now knows, will be best remembered and best liked +as having once been Mrs. Thrale. There is no great charge against her; +she was more sinned against than sinning; she was only weak and foolish, +only degenerated from her first excellence. And even in her old age some +traits of her youthful charms remain, and, seeing these, we regard +her with a tender compassion, and remember of her only the bright +helpfulness and freshness of her younger days, when Johnson "loved her, +esteemed her, reverenced her, and thought her the first of womankind." + + * * * * * + + +THE NIGER, AND ITS EXPLORERS. + + +A century ago, the interior of Africa was a sealed book to the civilized +world. Candace, Queen of the Ethiopians, had been noticed in Holy Writ; +the Nile with Thebes and Memphis on its banks, and a ship-canal to +the Red Sea with triremes on its surface, had not escaped the eye of +Herodotus: but the countries which gave birth to Queen and River were +alike unknown. The sunny fountains, the golden sands, the palmy plains +of Africa were to be traced in the verses of the poet; but he dealt +neither in latitude nor longitude. The maps presented a _terra +incognita_, or sterile mountains, where modern travellers have found +rivers, lakes, and alluvial basins,--or exhibited barren wastes, where +recent discoveries find rich meadows annually flowed, studded with +walled towns and cities, enlivened by herds of cattle, or cultivated in +plantations of maize and cotton. + +Although the northern coast of Africa had once been the granary of +Carthage and Rome, cultivation had receded, and the corn-ship of +antiquity had given place to the felucca of the corsair, preying upon +the commerce of Europe. A few caravans, laden with a little ivory and +gold-dust or a few packages of drugs and spices, crept across the +Desert, and the slave-trade principally, if not alone, drew to Africa +the attention of civilized nations. Egypt, Tripoli and Tunis, Turkey and +the Spanish Provinces, the West India Isles and the Southern States, +knew it as the mart where human beings were bought and sold; and +Christians were reconciled to the traffic by the hope that it might +contribute to the moral, if not physical, welfare of the captive, by his +removal to a more civilized region. + +During the last three centuries, millions of Africans have perished +either on their way to slavery or in exhausting toil under a tropical +sun; and the flag of England has been the most prominent in this +demoralizing traffic. But it is due to England to say, that, since she +withdrew from it, she has aimed to atone for the past by a noble +and persevering devotion to the improvement of Africa. By repeated +expeditions, by missions, treaties, colonies, and incentives to +commerce, she has spread her light over the interior, and is now +recognized both by the tribes of the Desert and by civilized nations as +the great protector of Africa, and both geography and commerce owe to +her most of their advances on the African continent. + +So little was known of Africa, that, when Mungo Park made his report, in +1798, of the discovery of the Niger, and described large cities on its +banks, and vessels of fifty tons burden navigating its waters, the world +was incredulous; and his subsequent fate threw a cloud over the subject +which was not entirely dispelled until his course was traced and his +statements verified by modern travellers. + +The route of Dr. Park was from the west coast, near Sierra Leone, to the +upper branches of the Niger. On his second expedition he took with him +a detachment of British soldiers, and a number of civilians, fresh from +England, none of whom survived him. It appears from his journal that his +men followed the foot-paths of the natives, slept in the open air, were +exposed to the dews at night, and were overtaken by the rainy season +before they embarked upon the Niger. Unacclimated, with no proper means +of conveyance, no suitable clothing, and no precautions against +the fever of the country, they nearly all became victims to their +indiscretions. Park, however, at length launched his schooner on the +Niger, passed the city of Timbuctoo, and, with two or three Englishmen, +followed the river more than a thousand miles to Boussa. Reaching the +rapids at this point in a low stage of the water, he was so indiscreet +as to fire on the natives, and was drowned in his attempt to escape from +them; but his fate remained in uncertainty for eighteen years. + +The long struggle with Napoleon, the fearful loss of life which attended +the journey of Park, and the doubts as to his fate, checked for many +years the exploration of Africa. In 1821, a third attempt to explore +the Niger was made by a Major Laing, who failed in his efforts to reach +Timbuctoo, and fell a victim to Mahometan intolerance. + +In 1822, a new effort was made by England to reach the interior, and +Messrs. Denham and Clapperton joined the caravan from Tripoli, and +crossed the Desert to the Soudan. They explored the country to the ninth +degree of north latitude, found large Negro and Mahometan states in the +interior, and visited Saccatoo, Kano, Murfeia, Tangalra, and other large +towns, some of which contained twenty or thirty thousand people. + +In their journal we find a vivid sketch of a Negro army marching from +Bornou to the South, with horsemen in coats-of-mail, as in the days of +chivalry, and armed, as in those days, with lances and bows and arrows. +A glowing description is given of the ravages that attended their march. +When they entered an enemy's country, desolation marked their path, +houses and corn-fields were destroyed, all the full-grown males were put +to death, and the women and children reduced to servitude. + +It was obvious that an incessant struggle was in progress between the +Mahometan and Negro states, and that the Mahometan faith and Arab blood +were slowly gaining an ascendency over the Negro even down to the +equator. The conquering tribes, by intermarriage with the females, +were gradually changing the race, and introducing greater energy and +intelligence; and the mixed races have exhibited great proficiency in +various branches of manufacture. The invaders took with them large herds +of cattle, and pursued a pastoral life, leaving the culture of the land +principally to the Negro. + +In 1825 Clapperton made his second expedition to the interior, +accompanied by Richard Lander. In this journey the adventurous +travellers landed at Badagry, and crossed through Yarriba to the Niger. +On their way they spent several days at Katunga, the capital of Yarriba, +a city so extensive that one of its streets is described as five miles +in length. The town of Koofo, with twenty thousand inhabitants, as also +large cotton-plantations, are mentioned by these travellers; and some +idea of the territory they explored may be formed from the following +extract from their narrative:-- + +"The further we penetrate into the country, the more dense we find the +population to be, and civilization becomes at every step more strikingly +apparent. Large towns, at a distance of only a few miles from each +other, we were informed, lay on all sides of us, the inhabitants of +which pay the greatest respect to the laws, and live under a regular +form of government." + +It is to this fertile, populous, and peaceful region of the interior +that the most successful efforts of the English missionaries have been +of late directed. + +In this expedition, Captain Clapperton died of the fever of the country. +His faithful servant, Lander, after publishing his journal, returned to +Africa, in 1830, with his brother, landed at Badagry, and again crossed +the country to the Niger. + +At Boussa, they obtained the first authentic information of the death of +Park, and recovered his gun, robe, and other relics. Here, embarking in +canoes, they ascended the river through its rapids to Yaouri, and +thence traced it to the sea in the Bight of Benin. On their way, they +discovered the Benue, which joins the Niger two hundred and seventy +miles from the ocean, with a volume of water and a width nearly equal to +its own. They encountered a large number of canoes, nearly fifty feet +in length, armed in some cases with a brass six-pounder at the bow, and +each manned by sixty or seventy men actively engaged in the slave-trade. +Forty of these canoes were found together at Eboe, near the mouth of the +Niger. + +During the interval between the two expeditions of Lander to trace the +course of this mysterious river, France was exploring its upper waters. + +In 1827, Rene Caillie, a Frenchman, adopting the disguise of a +Mahometan, left the western coast at Kakundy, a few miles north of +Sierra Leone, and crossed the intervening highlands to the affluents of +the Niger, which he struck within two hundred and fifty miles of the +coast. + +He first came to the Tankesso, a rapid stream flowing into the Niger +just below its cascades, and noticed here a mountain of pale pink quartz +in regular strata of eighteen inches in thickness, a few miles below +which the river flows in a wide and tranquil stream through extensive +plains, which it fertilizes by its inundations. One hundred miles below, +at Boure, were rich gold mines within twenty miles of the Niger. In the +dry season, he found its waters very cold and waist-deep. + +Caillie travelled by narrow paths impervious to horses or carriages, and +with a party of natives bearing merchandise on their heads. His route +was through a country gradually ascending and occasionally mountainous, +but fertile in the utmost degree, and watered by numerous streams and +rivulets which kept the verdure constantly fresh, with delightful plains +that required only the labor of the husbandman to produce everything +necessary for human life. + +Proceeding westward, he reached the main Niger, which he found, at +the close of the dry season, and before it had received its principal +tributaries, nine feet deep and nine hundred feet in width, with a +velocity of two and a half miles an hour. + +To this point, where the river becomes navigable for steamers, a common +road or railway of three hundred miles in length might be easily +constructed from Sierra Leone; and it is a little surprising that Great +Britain, with her solicitude to reach the interior, should not have been +tempted by the fertility, gold mines, and navigable waters in the rear +of Sierra Leone, so well pictured by Caillie, to open at least a common +highway to the Niger, an enterprise which might be effected for fifty +thousand pounds. Although this may be so easily accomplished, the +principal route to the interior of Africa is still the caravan track +from Tripoli through the Desert, requiring three months by a hazardous +and most fatiguing journey of fifteen hundred miles. The first movement +for a road to the interior has been recently made in Yarriba, by T.J. +Bowen, the American Baptist missionary, who pronounces it to be the +prerequisite to civilization and Christianity. + +Caillie readied the Niger in May, just as the rainy reason commenced, +but, finding no facilities for descending the stream, he proceeded to +the southwest, crossed many of its affluents, traversed a rich country, +and, having exposed himself to the fever and met with many detentions, +finally embarked in the succeeding March at Djenne, in a vessel of +seventy tons burden, for Timbuctoo. He describes this vessel as one +hundred feet in length, fourteen feet broad, and drawing seven feet +of water. It was laden with rice, millet, and cotton, and manned by +twenty-one men, who propelled the frail bark by poles and paddles. With +a flotilla of sixty of these vessels he descended the Niger several +hundred miles to Timbuctoo. He speaks of the river as varying from half +to three-fourths of a mile in width, annually overflowing its banks and +irrigating a large basin generally destitute of trees. After paying toll +to the Tasaareks, a Moorish tribe, on the way, and losing one of the +flotilla, he landed safely at Timbuctoo, and probably was the first +European who visited that remote city, although Adams, an American +sailor wrecked on the coast, claims to have been carried there before as +a captive. + +From the narratives of Park, Clapperton, Lander, and Caillie, confirmed +by Bairkie and Barth, the latter of whom explored the banks of the Niger +from Timbuctoo to Boussa, it has been ascertained to be a noble stream, +navigable for nearly twenty-five hundred miles, with an average width +of more than half a mile, and an average depth of three fathoms, +--comparing favorably with our own Mississippi. There appears to be but +one portion of the stream difficult for navigation, and that is the +portion from Yaouri to Lagaba, a distance of eighty miles. In this space +are several reefs and ledges, mostly bare at low water, and the river is +narrowed in width by mountains on either side; but in the wet season it +overflows its banks at this point, and is then navigated by the larger +class of canoes. There can be little doubt that it is susceptible of +navigation above and below by the largest class of river steamers, and +that the rapids themselves may in the higher stages of water be ascended +by the American high-pressure steamers which navigate our Western +rivers, drawing, as they do in low stages of the Ohio and Missouri, but +sixteen to eighteen inches. + +As soon as it was ascertained that the Niger reached the ocean in the +Bight of Benin, and that its upper waters had been navigated by Caillie +and Park, a private association, aided by the British government, fitted +out a brig and several steamers, with a large party of scientific men, +who, in 1833, entered the Niger from the sea. + +Great Britain, though enterprising and persevering, is slow in adapting +means to ends, and made a series of mistakes in her successive +expeditions, which might have been avoided, if she would have +condescended to profit by the experience of her children on this side of +the Atlantic. + +The expedition of 1833 was deficient in many things. The power and speed +of the steamers were insufficient, their draught of water too great, and +they were so long delayed in their outfit and in their sea-voyage that +they found the river falling, and were detained by shoals and sand-bars. +The accommodations were unsuitable; and the men, exposed to a bad +atmosphere among the mangroves at the mouth of the river, and confined +in the holds of the vessels, were attacked by fever, and but ten of them +survived. The expedition, however, succeeded in reaching Rabba, on the +Niger, five hundred miles from the sea, ascended the Benue, eighty miles +above the confluence, and charts were made and soundings taken for the +distance explored. + +In 1842 the British government made a new effort to explore the Niger, +and built for that purpose three iron steamers, the Wilberforce, Albert, +and Soudan, vessels of one hundred to one hundred and thirty-nine feet +in length. The error committed in the first expedition, of too great +draught, was avoided; but the steamers had so little power and keel that +their voyage to the Niger was both tedious and hazardous, and their +speed was found insufficient to make more than three knots per hour +against the current of the river. Arriving on the coast late in the +season, they were unable to ascend above the points already explored, +and the officers and men, suffering from the tedious navigation, close +cabins, and effluvia from the falling river, lost one-fourth of their +number by fever, while the African Kroomen, accustomed to the climate +and sleeping on the open deck, enjoyed perfect health. It was the +intention of government to establish a model farm and mission at the +confluence of the Niger and Benue; but the officers, discouraged by +sickness, abandoned their original purpose, and the expedition proved +another failure, involving a loss of at least sixty thousand pounds. + +After the lapse of twelve years, it was ascertained that private +steamers and sailing vessels were resorting to the Niger, and that an +active trade was springing up in palm-oil, the trees producing which +fringe the banks of the river for some hundreds of miles from the sea; +and in 1853, a Liverpool merchant, McGregor Laird, who had accompanied +the former expedition, fitted out, with the aid of government, the +Pleiad steamer for a voyage up the Niger. + +One would imagine that by this time the British government would have +corrected their former errors; and a part were corrected. The speed of +this steamer surpassed that of her predecessors, and her draught did not +exceed five feet. She was well provided with officers, and a crew of +native Kroomen from the coast; and she was supplied with ample stores +of quinine. But, singular as it may appear, this steamer, destined, to +ascend the great rivers up which the former expedition found a strong +breeze flowing daily, was not furnished with a _sail_; and although the +banks of the Niger were lined with forest-trees, and the supply of coal +was sufficient for a few days only, not a single _axe_ or _saw_ was +provided for cutting wood, and the Kroomen hired from the coast were +compelled to trim off with shingle-hatchets nearly all the fuel used +in ascending the river,--and in descending, the steamer was obliged to +drift down with the current. Moreover, she was but one hundred feet +in length, with an engine and boiler occupying thirty feet of her +bold,--thus leaving but thirty-five feet at each end for officers, men, +and stores. Neither state-room, cabin, nor awning was provided on deck +to shelter the crew from an African sun. + +With all these deficiencies, however, they achieved a partial triumph. +Entering the river in July, they ascended the southern branch, now +known as the Benue, for a distance of seven hundred miles from the sea, +reaching Adamawa, a Mahometan state of the Soudan. On the fifteenth of +August they encountered the rise of waters, and found the Benue nearly a +mile in width and from one to three fathoms in depth. They observed it +overflowing its banks for miles and irrigatin extensive and fertile +plains to the depth of several feet, and saw reason to believe that this +river, which flows westerly from the interior, may be navigated at least +one thousand miles from the sea. As Dr. Barth visited it at a city +several hundred miles above the point reached by the Pleiad, and found +it flowing with a wide and deep current, it may be regarded as the +gateway into the interior of Africa. + +One of our light Western steamers, manned by our Western boatmen and +axemen, with its three decks, lofty staterooms, superior speed, +and light draught, would have been most admirably fitted for this +exploration. + +But the expedition, with all its deficiencies, achieved a further +triumph. Dr. Bairkie, by using quinine freely, and by removing the beds +of the officers from the stifling cabins to the deck, escaped the loss +of a single man, although four months on the river,--thus demonstrating +that the white man can reach the interior of Africa in safety, a problem +quite as important to be solved as the course and capacity of the Niger +and its branches. + +Thus have been opened to navigation the waters of the Mysterious River. + +When the Landers first floated down the stream in their canoe, thirty +years since, they found vast forests and little cultivation, and the +natives seemed to have no commerce except in slaves and yams for their +support. But an officer who accompanied the several steam expeditions +was astonished in his last visit to see the change which a few years +had produced. New and populous towns had sprung up, extensive groves +of palm-trees and gardens lined the banks, and vessels laden with oil, +yams, ground-nuts, and ivory indicated the progress of legitimate +commerce. + +The narrative of Dr. Bairkie, a distinguished German scholar, who has +written an account of the voyage of the Pleiad, will be found both +interesting and instructive; and we may some day expect another volume, +for he has returned to the scene of his adventures. + +Another German in the service of Great Britain has given us a vivid +picture of Central Africa north of the equator. Dr. Henry Barth has +recently published, in four octavo volumes, a narrative of his travels +in Africa for five years preceding 1857. During this period, he +accompanied the Sheik of Bornou, one of the chief Negro states of +Africa, on his march as far south as the Benue, explored the borders of +Lake Tsadda, crossed the Niger at Sai, and visited the far-famed city +of Timbuctoo. Here he incurred some danger from the fanaticism of +the Moslems; but his command of Arabic, his tact and adroitness in +distinguishing the Protestant worship of the Deity from the homage +paid by Roman Catholics to images of the Virgin and Saints, and in +illustrating the points in which his Protestant faith agreed with the +Koran, extricated him from his embarrassment. + +Dr. Barth found various Negro cities with a population ranging from +fifteen to twenty thousand, and observed large fields of rice, cotton, +tobacco, and millet. On his way to Timbuctoo, he saw a field of this +last-named grain in which the stalks stood twenty-four feet high. Our +Patent Office should secure some of the seed which he has doubtless +conveyed to Europe. The following prices, which he names, give us an +idea of the cheapness of products in Central Africa:--An ox two dollars, +a sheep fifty cents, tobacco one to two cents per pound. + +From the sketch we have given of the Niger and its branches, and of the +countries bordering upon them, it would appear to be the proper policy +of Great Britain and other commercial nations to open a way from Sierra +Leone to the Niger, and to establish a colony near the confluence of +this river with the Benue. From this point, which is easily accessible +from the sea and the ports of the British colonies on the western coast +of Africa, light steamers may probably ascend to Sego and Djenne, +encountering no difficulties except at the rapids near Boussa, and may +penetrate into the heart of the Soudan. In this region are mines of +lead, copper, gold, and iron, a rich soil, adapted to cotton, rice, +indigo, sugar, coffee, and vegetable butter, with very cheap labor. With +steamers controlling the rivers, a check could here be given to the +slave-trade, and to the conflicts between the Moors and Negroes, and +Christianity have a fair prospect of diffusion. Such a colony is +strongly recommended by Lieutenant Allen, who accompanied the +expeditions of 1833 and 1842; and there can be no doubt that it would +attract the caravans from the remote interior, and put an end to the +perilous and tedious expeditions across the Desert. + + + + +REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. + + +_Benvenuto Rambaldi da Imola Illustrato nella Vita e nelle Opere, e di +lui Comento Latino sulla Divina Commedia di Dante Allghieri voltalo in +Italiano dall' Avvocato_ GIOVANNI TAMBURINI. Imola. 1855-56. 3 vol. +in 8vo. [The Commentary of Benvenuto Rambaldi of Imola on the _Divina +Commedia_, translated from Latin into Italian, by Giovanni Tamburini.] + +Almost five centuries have passed since Benvenuto of Imola, one of +the most distinguished men of letters of his time, was called by the +University of Bologna to read a course of lectures upon the "Divina +Commedia" before the students at that famous seat of learning. From +that time till the present, a great part of his "Comment" has lain in +manuscript, sharing the fate of the other earliest commentaries on the +poem of Dante, not one of which, save that of Boccaccio, was given to +the press till within a few years. This neglect is the more strange, +since it was from the writers of the fourteenth century, almost +contemporary as they were with Dante, that the most important +illustrations both of the letter and of the sense of the "Divina +Commedia" were naturally to be looked for. When they wrote, the lapse of +time had not greatly obscured the memory of the events which the poet +had recorded, or to which he had referred. The studies with which he had +been familiar, the external sources from which he had drawn inspiration, +had undergone no essential change in direction or in nature. The same +traditions and beliefs possessed the intellects of men. Similar social +and political influences moulded their characters. The distance that +separated Dante from his first commentators was mainly due to the +surpassing nature of his genius, which, in some sort, made him, and +still makes him, a stranger to all men, and very little to changes like +those which have slowly come about in the passage of centuries, and +which divide his modern readers from the poet. + +It was the intention of Benvenuto, as he tells us, "to elucidate what +was dark in the poem being veiled under figures, and to explain what +was involved in its multiplex meanings." But his Comment is more +illustrative than analytic, more literal than imaginative, and its chief +value lies in the abundance of current legends which it contains, and +in the number of stories related in it, which exhibit the manners or +illustrate the history of the times. So great, indeed, is the value +of this portion of his work, that Muratori, to whom a large debt of +gratitude is due from all students of Italian history, published in +1738, in the first volume of his "Antiquitates Italicae Medii Aevi," a +selection of such passages, amounting altogether to about one half of +the whole Comment. However satisfactory this incomplete publication +might be to the mere historical investigator, the students of the +"Divina Commedia" could not but regret that the complete work had not +been printed,--and they accordingly welcomed with satisfaction the +announcement, a few years since, of the volumes whose title stands at +the head of this article, which professed to contain a translation of +the whole Comment. It seemed a pity, indeed, that it should have been +thought worth while to translate a book addressing itself to a very +limited number of readers, most of whom were quite as likely to +understand the original Latin as the modern Italian, while also a +special value attached to the style and form in which it was first +written. But no one could have suspected what "translation" meant in the +estimation of the Signor Tamburini, whose name appears on the title-page +as that of the translator. + +_Traduttore--traditore_, "Translator--traitor," says the proverb; and of +all traitors shielded under the less offensive name, Signor Tamburini +is beyond comparison the worst we have ever had the misfortune to +encounter. A place is reserved for him in that lowest depth in which, +according to Dante's system, traitors are punished. + +It appears from his preface that Signor Tamburini is not without +distinction in the city of Imola. He has been President of the Literary +Academy named that of "The Industrious." To have been President of all +Academy in the Roman States implies that the person bearing this honor +was either an ecclesiastic or a favorite of ecclesiastics. Hitherto, +no one could hold such an office without having his election to it +confirmed by a central board of ecclesiastical inspectors (_la Sacra +Congregazione degli Studj_) at Rome. The reason for noticing this fact +in connection with Signor Tamburini will soon become apparent. + +In his preface, Signor Tamburini declares that in the first division of +the poem he has kept his translation close to the original, while in +the two later divisions he had been _meno legato_, "less exact," in his +rendering. This acknowledgment, however unsatisfactory to the reader, +presented at least an appearance of fairness. But, from a comparison of +Signor Tamburini's work with the portions of the original preserved by +Muratori, we have satisfied ourselves that his honesty is on a level +with his capacity as a translator, and what his capacity is we propose +to enable our readers to judge for themselves. For our own part, we have +been unable to distinguish any important difference in the methods of +translation followed in the three parts of the Comment. + +So far as we are aware, this book has not met with its dues in Europe. +The well-known Dantophilist, Professor Blanc of Halle, speaks of it in a +note to a recent essay (_Versuch einer blos philogischen Erklaerung der +Goettlichen Komoedie_, von Dr. L.G. Blanc, Halle, 1860, p. 5) as "a +miserably unsatisfactory translation," but does not give the grounds of +his assertion. We intend to show that a grosser literary imposition has +seldom been attempted than in these volumes. It is an outrage on the +memory of Dante not less than on that of Benvenuto. The book is worse +than worthless to students; for it is not only full of mistakes of +carelessness, stupidity, and ignorance, but also of wilful perversions +of the meaning of the original by additions, alterations, and omissions. +The three large volumes contain few pages which do not afford examples +of mutilation or misrepresentation of Benvenuto's words. We will begin +our exhibition of the qualities of the Procrustean mistranslator with +an instance of his almost incredible carelessness, which is, however, +excusable in comparison with his more wilful faults. Opening the first +volume at page 397, we find the following sentence,--which we put side +by side with the original as given by Muratori. The passage relates to +the 33d and succeeding verses of Canto XVI. + +TAMBURINI + +Qui Dante fa menzione di Guido Guerra, e meravigliano molti della +modestia dell' autore, che da costui e dalla di lui moglie tragga +l'origine sua, mentre poteva derivarla care di gratitudine affettuosa a +quella,--Gualdrada,--stipito suo,--dandole nome e tramandandola quasi +all' eternita, mentre per se stessa sarebbe forse rimasta sconosciuta. + +BENVENUTO. + +Et primo incepit a digniori, scilicet a Guidone Guerra; et circa istius +descriptionem lectori est aliqualiter immorandum, quia multi mirantur, +immo truffantur ignoranter, quod Dantes, qui poterat describere istum +praeclarum virum a claris progenitoribus et ejus claris gestis, +describit eum ab una femina, avita sua, Domna Gualdrada. Sed certe +Auctor fecit talem descriptionem tam laudabiliter quam prudenter, ut +heic implicite tangeret originem famosae stirpis istius, et ut daret +meritam famam et laudem huic mulieri dignissimae. + +A literal translation will afford the most telling comment on the nature +of the Italian version. + +TRANSLATION. + +Here Dante makes mention of Guido Guerras, and many marvel at the +modesty of the Author, in deriving his own origin from him and from his +wife, when he might have derived it from a more noble source. But I find +in such modesty the greater merit, in that he did not wish to fail in +affectionate gratitude toward her,--Gualdrada,--his ancestress,--giving +her name and handing her down as it were to eternity, while she by +herself would perhaps have remained unknown. + +TRANSLATION. + +In the first place he began with the worthiest, namely, Guido Guerra; +and in regard to the description of this man it is to be dwelt upon a +little by the reader, because scoff at Dante, because, when he might +have described this very distinguished man by his distinguished +ancestors and his distinguished deeds, he does describe him by a woman, +his grandmother, the Lady Gualdrada. But certainly the author did this +not less praiseworthily than wisely, that he might here, by implication, +touch upon the origin of that famous family, and might give a merited +fame and praise to this most worthy woman. + +It will be noticed that Signor Tamburini makes Dante derive _his own_ +origin from Gualdrada,--a mistake from which the least attention to the +original text, or the slightest acquaintance with the biography of the +poet, would have saved him. + +Another amusing instance of stupidity occurs in the comment on the 135th +verse of Canto XXVIII., where, speaking of the young king, son of Henry +II. of England, Benvenuto says, "Note here that this youth was like +another Titus the son of Vespasian, who, according to Suetonius, was +called the love and delight of the human race." This simple sentence is +rendered in the following astounding manner: "John [the young king] was, +according to Suetonius, another Titus Vespasian, the love and joy of the +human race"! + +Again, in giving the account of Guido da Montefeltro, (_Inferno_, Canto +XXVII.,) Benvenuto says on the lines, + + --e poi fui Cordeliero, + Credendomi si cinto fare ammenda, + +"And then I became a Cordelier, believing thus girt to make +amends,"--"That is, hoping under such a dress of misery and poverty +to make amends for my sins; but others did not believe in him [in his +repentance]. Wherefore Dominus Malatesta, having learned from one of +his household that Dominus Guido had become a Minorite Friar, took +precautions that he should not be made the guardian of Rimini." This +last sentence is rendered by our translator,--"One of the household +of Malatesta related to me (!) that Ser Guido adopted the dress of a +Minorite Friar, and sought by every means not to be appointed guardian +of Rimini." A little farther on the old commentator says,--"He died and +was buried in Ancona, and I have heard many things about him which may +afford a sufficient hope of his salvation"; but he is made to say by +Signor Tamburini,--"After his death and burial in Ancona many works of +power were ascribed to him, and I have a sweet hope that he is saved." + +We pass over many instances of similar misunderstanding of Benvenuto's +easily intelligible though inelegant Latin, to a blunder which would be +extraordinary in any other book, by which our translator has ruined a +most characteristic story in the comment on the 112th verse of Canto +XIV. of the "Purgatory." We must give here the two texts. + +BENVENUTO + +Et heic nota, ut videas, si magna nobilitas vigebat paulo ante in +Bretenorio, quod tempore istius Guidonis, quando aliquis vir nobilis +et honorabilis applicabat ad terram, magna contentio erat inter multos +nobiles de Bretenorio, in cujus domum ille talis forensis deberet +declinare. Propter quod concorditer convenerunt inter se, quod columna +lapidea figeretur in medio plateae cum multis annulis ferreis, et omnis +superveniens esset hospes illius ad cujus annulum alligaret equum. + +TRANSLATION. + +And here take notice, that you may see if great nobility flourished a +little before this time in Brettinoro, that, in the days of this Guido, +when any noble and honorable man came to the place, there was a great +rivalry among the many nobles of Brettinoro, as to which of them should +receive the stranger in his house. Wherefore they harmoniously agreed +that a column of stone should be set up in the middle of the square, +furnished with many iron rings, and any one who arrived should be the +guest of him to whose ring he might tie his horse. + + +TAMBURINI. + +Al tempo di Guido in Brettinoro anche i nobili aravano le terre; ma +insorsero discordie fra essi, e sparve la innocenza di vita, e con essa +la liberalita. I brettinoresi determinarono di alzare in piazza una +colonna con intorno tanti anelli di ferro, quanto le nobili famiglie di +quel castello, e chi fosse arrivato ed avesse legato il cavallo ad uno +de' predetti anelli, doveva esser ospite della famiglia, che indicava l' +anello cui il cavallo era attaccato. + +TRANSLATION. + +In the time of Guido in Brettinoro even the nobles ploughed the land; +but discords arose among them, and innocence of life disappeared, and +with it liberality. The people of Brettinoro determined to erect in the +pub lic square a column with as many iron rings upon it as there were +noble families in that stronghold, and he who should arrive and tie his +horse to one of those rings was to be the guest of the family pointed +out by the ring to which the horse was attached. + +Surely, Signor Tamburini has fixed the dunce's cap on his own head so +that it can never he taken off. The commonest Latin phrases, which the +dullest schoolboy could not mistranslate, he misunderstands, turning +the pleasant sense of the worthy commentator into the most +self-contradictory nonsense. + +"Ad confirmandum propositum," says Benvenuto, "oceurrit mihi res +jocosa,"[A]--"In confirmation of this statement, a laughable matter +occurs to me"; and he goes on to relate a story about the famous +astrologer Pietro di Abano. But our translator is not content without +making him stultify himself, and renders the words we have quoted, "A +maggiore conferma referiro un fatto a me accaduto"; that is, he makes +Benvenuto say, "I will report an incident that happened to me," and then +go on to tell the story of Pietro di Abano, which had no more to do with +him than with Signor Tamburini himself. + +[Footnote A: Comment on Purg. xvi. 80.] + +We might fill page after page with examples such as these of the +distortions and corruptions of Benvenuto's meaning which we have noted +on the margin of this so-called translation. But we have given more than +enough to prove the charge of incompetence against the President of +the "Academy of the Industrious," and we pass on to exhibit him now no +longer as simply an ignoramus, but as a mean and treacherous rogue. + +Among the excellent qualities of Benvenuto there are few more marked +than his freedom in speaking his opinion of rulers and ecclesiastics, +and in holding up their vices to reproach, while at the same time he +shows a due spirit of respect for proper civil and ecclesiastical +authority. In this he imitates the temper of the poet upon whose work he +comments,--and in so doing he has left many most valuable records of +the character and manners especially of the clergy of those days--He +loved a good story, and he did not hesitate to tell it even when it went +hard against the priests. He knew and he would not hide the corruptions +of the Church, and he was not the man to spare the vices which were +sapping the foundations not so much of the Church as of religion itself. +But his translator is of a different order of men, one of the devout +votaries of falsehood and concealment; and he has done his best to +remove some of the most characteristic touches of Benvenuto's work, +regarding them as unfavorable to the Church, which even now in the +nineteenth century cannot well bear to have exposed the sins committed +by its rulers and its clergy in the thirteenth or fourteenth. Signor +Tamburini has sought the favor of ecclesiastics, and gained the contempt +of such honest men as have the ill-luck to meet with his book. Wherever +Benvenuto uses a phrase or tells an anecdote which can be regarded as +bearing in any way against the Church, we may be sure to find it either +omitted or softened down in this Papalistic version. We give a few +specimens. + +In the comment on Canto III. of the "Inferno," Benvenuto says, speaking +of Dante's great enemy, Boniface VIII.,--"Auctor ssepissime dicit +de ipso Bonifacio magna mala, qui de rei veritate fuit magnanimus +peccator": "Our author very often speaks exceedingly ill of Boniface, +who was in very truth a grand sinner." This sentence is omitted in the +translation. + +Again, on the well-known verse, (_Inferno,_ xix. 53,) "Se' tu gia costi +ritto, Bonifazio?" Benvenuto commenting says,--"Auctor quando ista +scripsit, viderat pravam vitam Bonifacii, ct ejus mortem rabidam. +Ideo bene judicavit eum damnatum.... Heic dictus Nicolaus improperat +Bonifacio duo mala. Primo, quia Sponsam Christ! fraudulenter assumpsit +de manu simplicis Pastoris. Secundo, quia etiam earn more meretricis +tractavit, simoniacc vendcndo eam, et tyrannice tractando": "The author, +when he wrote these things, had witnessed the evil life of Boniface, and +his raving death. Therefore he well judged him to be damned.... And +here the aforementioned Pope Nicholas charges two crimes upon Boniface: +first, that he had taken the Bride of Christ by deceit from the hand of +a simple-minded Pastor; second, that he had treated her as a harlot, +simoniacally selling her, and tyrannically dealing with her." + +These two sentences are omitted by the translator; and the long further +account which Benvenuto gives of the election and rule of Boniface is +throughout modified by him in favor of this "_magnanimus peccator_." And +so also the vigorous narrative of the old commentator concerning Pope +Nicholas III. is deprived of its most telling points: "Nam fuit primus +in cujus curia palam committeretur Simonia per suos attinentes. +Quapropter multum ditavit eos possessionibus, pecuniis et castellis, +super onmes Romanos": "For he was the first at whose court Simony was +openly committed in favor of his adherents. Whereby he greatly enriched +them with possessions, money, and strongholds, above all the Romans." +"Sed quod Clerici capiunt raro dimittunt": "What the clergy have once +laid hands on, they rarely give up." Nothing of this is found in +the Italian,--and history fails of her dues at the hands of this +tender-conscienced modernizer of Benvenuto. The comment on the whole +canto is in this matter utterly vitiated. + +In the comment on Canto XXIX. of the "Inferno," which is full of +historic and biographic material of great interest, but throughout +defaced by the license of the translator, occurs a passage in regard +to the Romagna, which is curious not only as exhibiting the former +condition of that beautiful and long-suffering portion of Italy, but +also as applying to its recent state and its modern grievances. + +BENVENUTO. + +Judicio meo mihi videtur quod quatuor deduxerunt eam nobilem provinciam +ad tantam desolationem. Primum est avaritia Pastorum Ecclesiae, qui nunc +vendunt unam terram, nunc aliam; et nunc unus favet uni Tyranno, nunc +alius alteri, secundum quod saepe mutantur officiales. Secundum est +pravitas Tyrannorum suorum, qui semper inter se se lacerant et rodunt, +et subditos excoriant. Tertium est fertilitas locorum ipsius provinciae, +cujus pinguedo allicit barbaros et externos in praedam. Quartum est +invidia, quae viget in cordibus ipsorum incolarum. + +TAMBURINI. + +Per me ritengo, che quattro fossero le cagioni per cui la Romagna +si ridusse a tanta desolazione: l' abuso per avarizia di alcuni +ecclesiastici, che alienarono or una, or un' altra terra, e si misero +d' accordo coi tiranni,--i tiranni stessi che sempre erano discordi fra +loro a danno de' sudditi,--la fertilita de' terreni, che troppo alletta +gli strani, ed i barbari,--l' invidia, che regna fra gli stessi roma +gnuoli. + + +"In my judgment," says Benvenuto, who speaks with the authority of long +experience and personal observation, "it seems to me that four things +have brought that noble province to so great desolation. The first of +which is, the avarice of the Pastors of the Church, who now sell one +tract of its land, and now another; while one favors one Tyrant, and +another another, so that the men in authority are often changed. The +second is, the wickedness of the Tyrants themselves, who are always +tearing and biting each other, and fleecing their subjects. The third +is, the fertility of the province itself, which by its very richness +allures barbarians and foreigners to prey upon it. The fourth is, that +spirit of jealousy which flourishes in the hearts of the inhabitants +themselves." It will be noticed that the translator changes the phrase, +"the avarice of the Pastors of the Church," into "the avarice of some +ecclesiastics," while throughout the passage, as indeed throughout every +page of the work, the vigor of Benvenuto's style and the point of +his animated sentences are quite lost in the flatness of a dull and +inaccurate paraphrase. + +A passage in which the spirit of the poet has fully roused his manly +commentator is the noble burst of indignant reproach with which +he inveighs against and mourns over Italy in Canto VI. of the +"Purgatory":-- + + Ahi serva Italia, di dolore ostello, + Nave senza nocchiero in gran tempesta, + Non donna di provincie, ma bordello. + +"Nota metaphoram pulcram: sicut enim in lupanari venditur caro humana +pretio sine pudore, ita meretrix magna, idest Curia Romana, et Curia +Imperialis, vendunt libertatem Italicam.... Ad Italiam concurrunt omnes +barbarae nationes cum aviditate ad ipsam conculcandam.... Et heic, +Lector, me excusabis, qui antequam ulterius procedam, cogor facere +invectivam contra Dantem. O utinam, Poeta mirifice, rivivisceres modo! +Ubi pax, ubi tranquillitas in Italia?... Nunc autem dicere possim de +tola Italia quod Vergilius tuus de una Urbe dixit: + + ----'Crudelis ubique + Lucutus, ubique pavor, et plurima mortis imago.' + +.... Quanto ergo excusabilius, si fas esset, possem exclamare ad +Omnipotentem quam tu, qui in tempora felicia incidisti, quibus nos omnes +nunc viventes in misera Italia possumus invidere? Ipse ergo, qui potest, +mittat amodo Veltrum, quem tu vidisti in Somno, si tamen umquam venturus +est." + +"Note the beauty of the metaphor: for, as in a brothel the human body is +sold for a price without shame, so the great harlot, the Court of Rome, +and the Imperial Court, sell the liberty of Italy.... All the barbarous +nations rush eagerly upon Italy to trample upon her.... And here, +Reader, thou shalt excuse me, if, before going farther, I am forced to +utter a complaint against Dante. Would that, O marvellous poet, thou +wert now living again! Where is peace, where is tranquillity in +Italy?... But I may say now of all Italy what thy Virgil said of a +single city,--'Cruel mourning everywhere, everywhere alarm, and the +multiplied image of death.' ...With how much more reason, then, were it +but right, might I call upon the Omnipotent, than thou who fellest upon +happy times, which we all now living in wretched Italy may envy! Let +Him, then, who can, speedily send the Hound that thou sawest in thy +dream, if indeed he is ever to come!" + +It would be surprising, but for what we have already seen of the manner +in which Signor Tamburini performs his work, to find that he has here +omitted all reference to the Church, omitted also the address to Dante, +and thus changed the character of the whole passage. + +Again, in the comment on Canto XX. of the "Purgatory," where Benvenuto +gives account of the outrage committed, at the instigation of Philippe +le Bel, by Sciarra Colonna, upon Pope Boniface VIII., at Anagni, the +translator omits the most characteristic portions of the original. + + * * * * * + +BENVENUTO. + +Sed intense dolore superante animum ejus, conversus in rabiem furoris, +coepit se rodere totum. Et sic verificata est prophetia simplicissimi +Coelestini, qui praedixerat sibi: Intrasti ut Vulpes, Regnabis ut Leo, +Morieris ut Canis. + +TAMBURINI. + +L'angoscia per altro la vinse sul di lui animo, perche fu preso da tal +dolore, che si mordeva e lacerava le membra, e cosi termino sua vita. In +tal modo nel corso della vita di Bonifazio fu verificata la profezia di +Celestino. + + * * * * * + +"But his intense mortification overcoming the mind of the Pope, he fell +into a rage of madness, and began to bite himself all over his body. +And thus the prophecy of the simple-minded Celestine came true, who had +predicted to him. Thou hast entered [into the Papacy] like a Fox, thou +wilt reign like a Lion, thou wilt die like a Dog." + +It wilt be observed that the prophecy is referred to by the translator, +but that its stinging words are judiciously left out. + +The mass of omissions such as these is enormous. We go forward to the +comment on Canto XII. of the "Paradiso," which exhibits a multitude of +mutilations and alterations. For instance, in the comment on the lines +in which Dante speaks of St. Dominick as attacking heresies most eagerly +where they were most firmly established, (_dove le resistenze eran piu +grosse_,) our translator represents Benvenuto as saying, "That is, most +eagerly in that place, namely, the district of Toulouse, where the +Albigenses had become strong in their heresy and in power." But +Benvenuto says nothing of the sort; his words are, "Idest, ubi erant +majores Haeretici, vel ratione scientiae, vel potentiae. Non enim fecit +sicut quidam moderni Inquisitores, qui non sunt audaces nec solertes, +nisi contra quosdam divites denariis, pauperes amicis, qui non possunt +facere magnam resistentiam, et extorquent ab eis pecunias, quibus postea +emunt Episcopatum." + +"That is, where were the greatest Heretics, either through their +knowledge or their power. For he did not do like some modern +Inquisitors, who are bold and skilful only against such as are rich in +money, but poor in friends, and who cannot make a great resistance, and +from these they squeeze out their money with which they afterwards buy +an Episcopate." + +Such is the way in which what is most illustrative of general history, +or of the personal character of the author himself, is constantly +destroyed by the processes of Signor Tamburini. From the very next page +a passage of real value, as a contemporary judgment upon the orders of +St. Dominick and St. Francis, has utterly disappeared under his hands. +"And here take notice, that our most far-sighted author, from what he +saw of these orders, conjectured what they would become. For, in very +truth, these two illustrious orders of Preachers and Minorites, formerly +the two brightest lights of the world, now have indeed undergone an +eclipse, and are in their decline, and are divided by quarrels and +domestic discords. And consequently it seems as if they were not to last +much longer. Therefore it was well answered by a monk of St. Benedict, +when he was reproached by a Franciscan friar for his wanton life,--When +Francis shall be as old as Benedict, then you may talk to me." + +But there is a still more remarkable instance of Signor Tamburini's +tenderness to the Church, and of the manner in which he cheats his +readers as to the spirit and meaning of the original, in the comment on +the passage in Canto XXI. of the "Paradise," where St. Peter Damiano +rebukes the luxury and pomp of the modern prelates, and mentions, among +their other displays of vanity, the size of their cloaks, "which cover +even their steeds, so that two beasts go under one skin." "Namely," says +the honest old commentator, "the beast of burden, and the beast who is +borne, who in truth is the more beastly of the two. And, indeed, were +the author now alive, he might change his words, and say, So that three +beasts go under one skin,--to wit, a cardinal, a harlot, and a horse; +for thus I have heard of one whom I knew well, that he carried his +mistress to the chase, seated behind him on the croup of his horse or +mule, and he himself was in truth 'as the horse or as the mule, which +have no understanding.'... And wonder not, Reader, if the author as a +poet thus reproach these prelates of the Church; for even great Doctors +and Saints have not been able to abstain from rebukes of this sort +against such men in the Church." Nothing of all this is to be found in +the Italian version. + +But it is not only in omission that the translator shows his devotion +to the Church. He takes upon himself not infrequently to alter the +character of Benvenuto's narratives by the insertion of phrases or the +addition of clauses to which there is nothing corresponding in the +original. The comment on Canto XIX. of the "Inferno" affords several +instances of this unfair procedure. "Among the Cardinals," says +Benvenuto, "was Benedict of Anagni, a man most skilful in managing great +affairs and in the rule of the world; who, moreover, sought the highest +dignity." "Vir astutissimus ad quseque magna negotia et imperia mundi; +qui etiam affectabat summam dignitatem." This appears in the translation +as follows: "Uomo astutissimo, perito d' affari, e conoscitore delle +altre corti: affettava un contegno il piu umile, e reservato." "A man +most astute, skilled in affairs, and acquainted with other courts; he +assumed a demeanor the most humble and reserved." A little farther on, +Benvenuto tells us that many, even after the election of Benedict to the +Papacy, reputed Celestine to be still the true and rightful Pope, in +spite of his renunciation, because, they said, such a dignity could not +be renounced. To this statement the translator adds, "because it comes +directly from God,"--a clause for the benefit of readers under the +pontificate of Pius IX. + +In the comment on Canto XIX. of the "Purgatory" occurs the following +striking passage: "Summus Pontificatus, si bene geritur, est summus +honor, summum onus, summa servitus, summus labor. Si vero male, est +summum periculum animae, summum malum, summa miseria, summus pudor. Ergo +dubium est ex omni parte negotium. Ideo bene praefatus Adrianus Papa IV. +dicebat, Cathedram Petri spinosam, et Mantum ejus acutissimis per totum +consertum aculeis, et tantae gravitatis, ut robustissimos premat et +conterat humeros. Et concludebat, Nonne miseria dignus est qui pro tanta +pugnat miseria?" + +"The Papacy, if it be well borne, is the chief of honors, of burdens, of +servitudes, and of labors; but if ill, it is the chief of perils for the +soul, the chief of evils, of miseries, and of shames. Wherefore, it is +throughout a doubtful affair. And well did the aforesaid Pope Adrian IV. +say, that the Chair of Peter was thorny, and his Mantle full of sharpest +stings, and so heavy as to weigh down and bruise the stoutest shoulders; +and, added he, Does not that man deserve pity, who strives for a woe +like this?" + +This passage, so worthy of preservation and of literal translation, is +given by Signor Tamburini as follows: "The tiara is the first of honors, +but also the first and heaviest of burdens, and the most rigorous +slavery; it is the greatest risk of misfortune and of shame. The Papal +mantle is pierced with sharp thorns; who, then, will excuse him who +frets himself for it?" + +But it is not only in passages relating to the Church that the +translator's faithlessness is displayed. Almost every page of his work +exhibits some omission, addition, transposition, or paraphrase, for +which no explanation can be given, and not even an insufficient excuse +be offered. In Canto IX. of the "Paradise," Dante puts into the mouth of +Cunizza, speaking of Foulques of Marseilles, the words, "Before his fame +shall die, the hundredth year shall five times come around." "And note +here," says Benvenuto, "that our author manifestly tells a falsehood; +since of that man there is no longer any fame, even in his own country. +I say, in brief, that the author wishes tacitly to hint that he will +give fame to him by his power,--a fame that shall not die so long as +this book shall live; and if we may conjecture of the future, it is to +last for many ages, since we see that the fame of our author continually +increases. And thus he exhorts men to live virtuously, that the wise may +bestow fame upon them, as he himself has now given it to Cunizza, +and will give it to Foulques." Not a word of this appears in Signor +Tamburini's pages, interesting as it is as an early expression of +confidence in the duration of Dante's fame. + +A similar omission of a curious reference to Dante occurs in the comment +on the 23d verse of Canto XXVII. of the "Inferno," where Benvenuto, +speaking of the power of mental engrossment or moral affections to +overcome physical pain, says, "As I, indeed, have seen a sick man cause +the poem of Dante to be brought to him for relief from the burning pains +of fever." + +Such omissions as these deprive Benvenuto's pages of the charm of +_naivete_, and of the simple expression of personal experience and +feeling with which they abound in the original, and take from them +a great part of their interest for the general reader. But there +is another class of omissions and alterations which deprives the +translation of value for the special student of the text of Dante,--a +class embracing many of Benvenuto's discussions of disputed readings and +remarks upon verbal forms. Signor Tamburini has thus succeeded in making +his book of no use as an authority, and prevented it from being referred +to by any one desirous of learning Benvenuto's judgment in any case +of difficulty. To point out in detail instances of this kind is not +necessary, after what we have already done. + +The common epithets of critical justice fail in such a case as that of +this work. The facts concerning it, as they present themselves one after +another, are stronger in their condemnation of it than any words. It +would seem as if nothing further could be added to the disgrace of the +translator; but we have still one more charge to prove against him, +worse than the incompetence, the ignorance, and the dishonesty of which +we have already found him guilty. In reading the last volume of his +work, after our suspicions of its character had been aroused, it seemed +to us that we met here and there with sentences which had a familiar +tone, which at least resembled sentences we had elsewhere read. We +found, upon examination, that Signor Tamburini, under the pretence of a +translation of Benvenuto, had inserted through his pages, with a liberal +hand, considerable portions of the well-known notes of Costa, and, more +rarely, of the still later Florentine editor, the Abate Bianchi. It +occurred to us as possible that Costa and Bianchi had in these passages +themselves translated from Benvenuto, and that Signor Tamburini had +simply adopted their versions without acknowledgment, to save himself +the trouble of making a new translation. But we were soon satisfied that +his trickery had gone farther than this, and that he had inserted the +notes of these editors to fill up his own pages, without the slightest +regard to their correspondence with or disagreement from the original +text. It is impossible to discover the motive of this proceeding; for +it certainly would seem to be as easy to translate, after the manner +in which Signor Tamburini translates, as to copy the words of other +authors. Moreover, his thefts seem quite without rule or order: he takes +one note and leaves the next; he copies a part, and leaves the other +part of the same note; he sometimes quotes half a page, sometimes only a +line or two in many pages. Costa's notes on the 98th and 100th verses +of Canto XXI. of the "Paradise" are taken out without the change of a +single word, and so also his note on v. 94 of the next Canto. In this +last instance we have the means of knowing what Benvenuto wrote, +because, although the passage has not been given by Muratori, it is +found in the note by Parenti, in the Florentine edition of the "Divina +Commedia" of 1830. "Vult dicere Benedictus quod miraculosius fuit +Jordanem converti retrorsum, et Mare Rubrum aperiri per medium, quam +si Deus succurreret et provideret istis malis. Ratio est quod utrumque +praedictorum miraculorum fuit contra naturam; sed punire reos et +nocentes naturale est et usitatum, quamvis Deus punierit peccatores +AEgyptios per modum inusitatum supernaturaliter Jordanus sic nominatur +a duobus fontibus, quorum unus vocatur JOR et alius vocatur DAN: inde +JORDANUS, ut ait Hieronymus, locorum orientalium persedulus indagator. +_Volto ritrorso;_ scilicet, versus ortum suum, vel contra: _el mar +fugire;_ idest, et Mare Rubrum fugere hinc inde, quando fecit viam +populo Dei, qui transivit sicco pede: _fu qui mirabile a vedere;_ idest, +miraculosius, _chel soccorso que,_ idest, quam esset mirabile succursum +divinum hic venturum ad puniendos perversos." Now this whole passage is +omitted in Signor Tamburini's work; and in its place appears a literal +transcript from Costa's note, as follows: "Veramente fu piu mirabile +cosa vedere il Giordano volto all' indietro o fuggire il mare, quando +cosi volle Iddio, che non sarebbe vedere qui il provvedimento a quel +male, che per colpa de' traviati religiosi viene alia Chiesa di Dio." + +Another instance of this complete desertion of Benvenuto, and adoption +of another's words, occurs just at the end of the same Canto, v. 150; +and the Florentine edition again gives us the original text. It is even +more inexplicable why the so-called translator should have chosen this +course here than in the preceding instance; for he has copied but a line +and a half from Costa, which is not a larceny of sufficient magnitude to +be of value to the thief. + +We have noted misappropriations of this sort, beside those already +mentioned, in Cantos II. and III. of the "Purgatory," and in Cantos I., +II., XV., XVI., XVIII., XIX., and XXIII., of the "Paradise." There are +undoubtedly others which have not attracted our attention. + +We have now finished our exposure of the false pretences of these +volumes, and of the character of their author. After what has been said +of them, it seems hardly worth while to note, that, though handsome in +external appearance, they are very carelessly and inaccurately printed, +and that they are totally deficient in needed editorial illustrations. +Such few notes of his own as Signor Tamburini has inserted in the course +of the work are deficient alike in intelligence and in object. + +A literary fraud of this magnitude is rarely attempted. A man must be +conscious of being supported by the forces of a corrupt ecclesiastical +literary police before venturing on a transaction of this kind. No shame +can touch the President of the "Academy of the Industrious." His book +has the triple _Imprimatur_ of Rome. It is a comment, not so much on +Dante, as on the low standard of literary honesty under a government +where the press is shackled, where true criticism is forbidden, where +the censorship exerts its power over the dead as well as the living, and +every word must be accommodated to the fancied needs of a despotism the +more exacting from the consciousness of its own decline. + +It is to be hoped, that, with the new freedom of Italian letters, an +edition of the original text of Benvenuto's Comment will be issued under +competent supervision. The old Commentator, the friend of Petrarch and +Boccaccio, deserves this honor, and should have his fame protected +against the assault made upon it by his unworthy compatriot. + + +_Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character_. By E.E. RAMSAY, M.A., +LL.D., F.R. S.E., Dean of Edinburgh. From the Seventh Edinburgh Edition. +Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. + +This book was not made, but grew. The foundation was a short lecture +delivered in Edinburgh. It was so popular that it was published in a +pamphlet form. The popularity of the pamphlet induced Dean Ramsay to +recall many anecdotes illustrating national peculiarities which could +not be compressed into a lyceum address. The result was that the +pamphlet became a thin volume, which grew thicker and thicker as edition +after edition was called for by the curiosity of the public. The +American reprint is from the seventh and last Edinburgh edition, and is +introduced by a genial preface, written especially for American readers. +The author is more than justified in thinking that there are numerous +persons scattered over our country, who, from ties of ancestry or +sympathy with Scotland, will enjoy a record of the quaint sayings and +eccentric acts of her past humorists,--"her original and strong-minded +old ladies,--her excellent and simple parish ministers,--her amusing +parochial half-daft idiots,--her pawky lairds,--and her old-fashioned +and now obsolete domestic servants and retainers." Indeed, the Yankee is +sufficiently allied, morally and intellectually, with the Scotchman, to +appreciate everything that illustrates the peculiarities of Scottish +humor. He has shown this by the delight he has found in those novels +of Scott's which relate exclusively to Scotland. The Englishman, and +perhaps the Frenchman, may have excelled him in the appreciation of +"Ivanhoe" and "Quentin Durward," but we doubt if even the first +has equalled him in the cozy enjoyment of the "Antiquary" and "Guy +Mannering." And Dean Ramsay's book proves how rich and deep was the +foundation in fact of the qualities which Sir Walter has immortalized +in fiction. He has arranged his "Reminiscences of Scottish Life and +Character" under five heads, relating respectively to the religious +feelings and observances, the conviviality, the domestic service, the +language and proverbs, and the peculiarities of the wit and humor of +Scotland. In New England, and wherever in any part of the country +the New-Englander resides, the volume will receive a most cordial +recognition. Dean Ramsay's qualifications for his work are plainly +implied in his evident understanding and enjoyment of the humor of +Scottish character. He writes about that which he feels and knows; and, +without any exercise of analysis and generalization, he subtly conveys +to the reader the inmost spirit of the national life he undertakes to +illustrate by narrative, anecdote, and comment. The finest critical and +artistic skill would be inadequate to insinuate into the mind so +keen and vivid a perception of Scottish characteristics as escape +unconsciously from the simple statements of this true Scotchman, who is +in hearty sympathy with his countrymen. + + +_The Pulpit of the American Revolution: or, The Political Sermons of +the Period of_ 1776. With a Historical Introduction, Notes, and +Illustrations. By JOHN WINGATE THORNTON, A.M. Boston: Gould & Lincoln. +12mo. + +This is a volume worthy a place in every American library, public or +private. It consists of nine discourses by the same number of patriotic +clergymen of the Revolution. Mr. Thornton, the editor, has supplied an +historical introduction, full of curious and interesting matter, and has +also given a special preface to each sermon, with notes explaining all +those allusions in the text which might puzzle an ordinary reader of the +present day. His annotations have not only the value which comes from +patient research, but the charm which proceeds from loving partisanship. +He transports himself into the times about which he writes, and +almost seems to have listened to the sermons he now comes forward to +illustrate. The volume contains Dr. Mayhew's sermon on "Unlimited +Submission," Dr. Chauncy's on the "Repeal of the Stamp Act," Rev. Mr. +Cooke's Election Sermon on the "True Principles of Civil Government," +Rev. Mr. Gordon's "Thanksgiving Sermon in 1774," and the discourses, +celebrated in their day, of Langdon, Stiles, West, Payson, and Howard. +Among these, the first rank is doubtless due to Dr. Mayhew's remarkable +discourse at the West Church on the 30th of January, 1750. The topics +relating to "non-resistance to the higher powers," which Macaulay treats +with such wealth of statement, argument, and illustration, in his +"History of England," are in this sermon discussed with equal +earnestness, energy, brilliancy, fulness, and independence of thought. +If all political sermons were characterized by the rare mental and moral +qualities which distinguish Jonathan Mayhew's, there can be little doubt +that our politicians and statesmen would oppose the intrusion of parsons +into affairs of state on the principle of self-preservation, and not on +any arrogant pretension of superior sagacity, knowledge, and ability. +In the power to inform the people of their rights and teach them their +duties, we would be willing to pit one Mayhew against a score of +Cushings and Rhetts, of Slidells and Yanceys. The fact that Mayhew's +large and noble soul glowed with the inspiration of a quick moral and +religious, as well as common, sense, would not, in our humble opinion, +at all detract from his practical efficiency. + + +_Works of Charles Dickens Household Edition_. Illustrated from Drawings +by F.O.C. Darley and John Gilbert. The Pickwick Papers. New York: W.A. +Townsend & Co. 4 vols. 12mo. + +We have long needed a handsome American edition of the works of the most +popular English novelist of the time, and here we have the first volumes +of one which is superior, in type, paper, illustrations, and general +taste of mechanical execution, to the best English editions. It is to +be published at the rate of two volumes a month until completed, and in +respect both to cheapness and elegance is worthy of the most extensive +circulation. Such an enterprise very properly commences with "The +Pickwick Papers," the work in which the hilarity, humor, and tenderness +of the author's humane and beautiful genius first attracted general +regard; and it is to be followed by equally fine editions of the +romances which succeeded, and, as some think, eclipsed it in merit and +popularity. We most cordially wish success to an undertaking which +promises to substitute the finest workmanship of the Riverside Press for +the bad type and dingy paper of the common editions, and hope that the +publishers will see the propriety of adequately remunerating the author. + +It is pleasant to note that years and hard work have not dimmed the +brightness or impaired the strength of Dickens's mind. The freshness, +vigor, and affluence of his genius are not more evident in the "Old +Curiosity Shop" than in "Great Expectations," the novel he is now +publishing, in weekly parts, in "All the Year Round." Common as is the +churlish custom of depreciating a new work of a favorite author by +petulantly exalting the worth of an old one, no fair reader of "Great +Expectations" will feel inclined to say that Dickens has written +himself out. In this novel he gives us new scenes, new incidents, new +characters, and a new purpose; and from his seemingly exhaustless fund +of genial creativeness, we may confidently look for continual additions +to the works which have already established his fame. The characters +in "Great Expectations" are original, and some of them promise to rank +among his best delineations. Pip, the hero, who, as a child, "was +brought up by hand," and who appears so far to be led by it,--thus +illustrating the pernicious effect in manhood of that mode of taking +nourishment in infancy,--is a delicious creation, quite equal to David +Copperfield. Jaggers, the peremptory lawyer, who carries into ordinary +conduct and conversation the habits of the criminal bar, and bullies and +cross-examines even his dinner and his wine,--Joe, the husband of "the +hand" by which Pip was brought up,--Wopsle, Wemmick, Orlick, the family +of the Pockets, the mysterious Miss Havisham, and the disdainful +Estella, are not repetitions, but personages that the author introduces +to his readers for the first time. The story is not sufficiently +advanced to enable us to judge of its merit, but it has evidently been +carefully meditated, and here and there the reader's curiosity is stung +by fine hints of a secret which the weaver of the plot still contrives +to keep to himself. The power of observation, satire, humor, passion, +description, and style, which the novel exhibits, gives evidence that +Dickens is putting forth in its production his whole skill and strength. + + + + +RECENT AMERICAN PUBLICATIONS + +RECEIVED BY THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + + +A Message from the Sea; and the Uncommercial Traveller. By Charles +Dickens. Philadelphia. T.B. Peterson & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 330. $1.25. + +Secession, Coercion, and Civil War. The Story of 1861. Philadelphia. +T.B. Peterson & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 502. $1.25. + +Thoughts for Holy Week, for Young Persons. By Miss Sewell. Boston. E.P. +Dutton & Co. 24mo. pp. 184. 38 cts. + +Short Family Prayers for Every Morning and Evening of the Week, and for +Particular Occasions. By Jonathan W. Wainwright. Boston. E.P. Dutton & +Co. 12mo. pp. 164. 75 cts. + +The Life of George Washington. By Washington Irving. In Five Volumes. +Vol. IV. of a New Illustrated Edition. New York. G.P. Putnam. 12mo. pp. +479. $1.50. + +The Works of Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam. Collected and edited by +James Spedding and others. Volume XV., being Volume V. of the Literary +and Professional Works. Boston. Brown & Taggard. 12mo. pp. 449. 1.50. + +The Shadowy Land, and other Poems, including, the Guests of Brazil. By +Rev. Gurdon Huntington, A.M. New York. James Miller. 8vo. pp. 506. 1.50. + +History of Latin Christianity, including that of the Popes to the +Pontificate of Nicolas V. By Henry Hart Milman. Vol. VI. New York. +Sheldon & Co. 12mo. pp. 539. $1.50. + +Hebrew Men and Times, from the Patriarchs to the Messiah. By Joseph +Henry Allen. Boston. Walker, Wise, & Co. 12mo. pp. 429. $1.00. + +Suffolk Surnames. By Nathaniel I. Bowditch. Boston. Ticknor & Fields. +8vo. pp. 757. $3.00. + +Twelve Sermons delivered at Antioch College. By Horace Mann. Boston. +Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. pp. 314. $1.00. + +The Crossed Path; or, Basil. A Story of Modern Life. By Wilkie Collins. +Philadelphia. T.B. Peterson & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 317. $1.25. + +Father Tom and the Pope. Splendidly illustrated. Philadelphia. T.B. +Peterson & Brothers. 16mo. paper. pp. 105. 25 cts. + +Our Father and his Family Union. By William Henry Porter. Boston. +Published for the Author. 16mo. pp. 302. 75 cts. + +The Martyr Crisis. A Poem. Chicago. D.B. Cooke & Co. 16mo. pp. 79. 50 +cts. + +The Pickwick Papers. By Charles Dickens. New York. W.A. Townsend & Co. +16mo. 4 vols. 75 cts. per volume. + +Publii Vergilii Maronis Opera. Ex Recensione J. Conington, A.M. New +York. Harper & Brothers. 24mo. pp. 338. 40 cts. + +Thucydides. Recensuit Joannes Gulielmus Donaldson, S.T.P., Coll. SS. +Trin. apud Cantabr. quondam Socius. New York. Harper & Brothers. 2 vols. +24mo. pp. 305 and 298. 80 cts. + +The Ordeal of Free Labor in the British West Indies. By William G. +Sewell. New York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 325. $1.00. + +Trumps. A Novel. By George William Curtis. Illustrated by Augustus +Hoppin. New York. Harper & Brothers. 12mo. pp. 502. $1.50. + +The Autobiography, Letters, and Literary Remains of Madam Piozzi (Mrs. +Thrale). Edited, with Notes, by A. Hayward. Boston. Ticknor & Fields. +12mo. pp. 531. $1.50. + +The Life and Career of Major John Andre. By Winthrop Sargent. Boston. +Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. pp. 471. 1.50. + +Currents and Counter-Currents. With other Addresses and Essays. By +Oliver Wendell Holmes. Boston. Ticknor & Fields. 12mo. pp. 406. $1.25. + +The Sable Cloud. A Story. By Rev. Nehemiah Adams. Boston. Ticknor & +Fields. 16mo. pp. 275. 75 cts. + +Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. By John Gibson Lockhart. +Vols. I. and II. Uniform with the Household Edition of the Waverley +Novels. Boston. 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