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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poet at the Breakfast Table
+by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
+
+(The Physician and Poet, not the Jurist O. W. Holmes, Jr.)
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Poet at the Breakfast Table
+
+Author: Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
+
+
+Release Date: August 15, 2006 [EBook #2666]
+Last Updated: February 18, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POET AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE ***
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+THE POET AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE
+
+by Oliver Wendell Holmes
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+In this, the third series of Breakfast-Table conversations, a slight
+dramatic background shows off a few talkers and writers, aided by
+certain silent supernumeraries. The machinery is much like that of
+the two preceding series. Some of the characters must seem like old
+acquaintances to those who have read the former papers. As I read these
+over for the first time for a number of years, I notice one character;
+presenting a class of beings who have greatly multiplied during
+the interval which separates the earlier and later Breakfast-Table
+papers,--I mean the scientific specialists. The entomologist, who
+confines himself rigidly to the study of the coleoptera, is intended
+to typify this class. The subdivision of labor, which, as we used to
+be told, required fourteen different workmen to make a single pin,
+has reached all branches of knowledge. We find new terms in all the
+Professions, implying that special provinces have been marked off, each
+having its own school of students. In theology we have many curious
+subdivisions; among the rest eschatology, that is to say, the geography,
+geology, etc., of the “undiscovered country;” in medicine, if the
+surgeon who deals with dislocations of the right shoulder declines to
+meddle with a displacement on the other side, we are not surprised, but
+ring the bell of the practitioner who devotes himself to injuries of the
+left shoulder.
+
+On the other hand, we have had or have the encyclopaedic intelligences
+like Cuvier, Buckle, and more emphatically Herbert Spencer, who take all
+knowledge, or large fields of it, to be their province. The author of
+“Thoughts on the Universe” has something in common with these, but he
+appears also to have a good deal about him of what we call the humorist;
+that is, an individual with a somewhat heterogeneous personality, in
+which various distinctly human elements are mixed together, so as to
+form a kind of coherent and sometimes pleasing whole, which is to a
+symmetrical character as a breccia is to a mosaic.
+
+As for the Young Astronomer, his rhythmical discourse may be taken
+as expressing the reaction of what some would call “the natural man”
+ against the unnatural beliefs which he found in that lower world to
+which he descended by day from his midnight home in the firmament.
+
+I have endeavored to give fair play to the protest of gentle and
+reverential conservatism in the letter of the Lady, which was not
+copied from, but suggested by, one which I received long ago from a lady
+bearing an honored name, and which I read thoughtfully and with profound
+respect.
+
+December, 1882.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.
+
+It is now nearly twenty years since this book was published. Being the
+third of the Breakfast-Table series, it could hardly be expected to
+attract so much attention as the earlier volumes. Still, I had no
+reason to be disappointed with its reception. It took its place with
+the others, and was in some points a clearer exposition of my views and
+feelings than either of the other books, its predecessors. The poems
+“Homesick in Heaven” and the longer group of passages coming from the
+midnight reveries of the Young Astronomer have thoughts in them not so
+fully expressed elsewhere in my writings.
+
+The first of these two poems is at war with our common modes of thought.
+In looking forward to rejoining in a future state those whom we have
+loved on earth,--as most of us hope and many of us believe we shall,--we
+are apt to forget that the same individuality is remembered by one
+relative as a babe, by another as an adult in the strength of maturity,
+and by a third as a wreck with little left except its infirmities and
+its affections. The main thought of this poem is a painful one to some
+persons. They have so closely associated life with its accidents that
+they expect to see their departed friends in the costume of the time
+in which they best remember them, and feel as if they should meet the
+spirit of their grandfather with his wig and cane, as they habitually
+recall him to memory.
+
+The process of scientific specialization referred to and illustrated in
+this record has been going on more actively than ever during these last
+twenty years. We have only to look over the lists of the Faculties and
+teachers of our Universities to see the subdivision of labor carried
+out as never before. The movement is irresistible; it brings with
+it exactness, exhaustive knowledge, a narrow but complete
+self-satisfaction, with such accompanying faults as pedantry,
+triviality, and the kind of partial blindness which belong to
+intellectual myopia. The specialist is idealized almost into sublimity
+in Browning's “Burial of the Grammarian.” We never need fear that he
+will undervalue himself. To be the supreme authority on anything is
+a satisfaction to self-love next door to the precious delusions of
+dementia. I have never pictured a character more contented with himself
+than the “Scarabee” of this story.
+
+BEVERLY FARMS, MASS., August 1, 1891. O. W. H.
+
+
+
+
+THE POET AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+The idea of a man's “interviewing” himself is rather odd, to be sure.
+But then that is what we are all of us doing every day. I talk half
+the time to find out my own thoughts, as a school-boy turns his pockets
+inside out to see what is in them. One brings to light all sorts of
+personal property he had forgotten in his inventory.
+
+--You don't know what your thoughts are going to be beforehand? said the
+“Member of the Haouse,” as he calls himself.
+
+--Why, of course I don't. Bless your honest legislative soul, I suppose
+I have as many bound volumes of notions of one kind and another in my
+head as you have in your Representatives' library up there at the State
+House. I have to tumble them over and over, and open them in a hundred
+places, and sometimes cut the leaves here and there, to find what I
+think about this and that. And a good many people who flatter themselves
+they are talking wisdom to me, are only helping me to get at the shelf
+and the book and the page where I shall find my own opinion about the
+matter in question.
+
+--The Member's eyes began to look heavy.
+
+--It 's a very queer place, that receptacle a man fetches his talk out
+of. The library comparison does n't exactly hit it. You stow away some
+idea and don't want it, say for ten years. When it turns up at last it
+has got so jammed and crushed out of shape by the other ideas packed
+with it, that it is no more like what it was than a raisin is like a
+grape on the vine, or a fig from a drum like one hanging on the tree.
+Then, again, some kinds of thoughts breed in the dark of one's mind like
+the blind fishes in the Mammoth Cave. We can't see them and they can't
+see us; but sooner or later the daylight gets in and we find that some
+cold, fishy little negative has been spawning all over our beliefs, and
+the brood of blind questions it has given birth to are burrowing round
+and under and butting their blunt noses against the pillars of faith we
+thought the whole world might lean on. And then, again, some of our old
+beliefs are dying out every year, and others feed on them and grow fat,
+or get poisoned as the case may be. And so, you see, you can't tell what
+the thoughts are that you have got salted down, as one may say, till
+you run a streak of talk through them, as the market people run a
+butterscoop through a firkin.
+
+Don't talk, thinking you are going to find out your neighbor, for you
+won't do it, but talk to find out yourself. There is more of you--and
+less of you, in spots, very likely--than you know.
+
+--The Member gave a slight but unequivocal start just here. It does seem
+as if perpetual somnolence was the price of listening to other people's
+wisdom. This was one of those transient nightmares that one may have in
+a doze of twenty seconds. He thought a certain imaginary Committee of
+Safety of a certain imaginary Legislature was proceeding to burn down
+his haystack, in accordance with an Act, entitled an Act to make the
+Poor Richer by making the Rich Poorer. And the chairman of the committee
+was instituting a forcible exchange of hats with him, to his manifest
+disadvantage, for he had just bought him a new beaver. He told this
+dream afterwards to one of the boarders.
+
+There was nothing very surprising, therefore, in his asking a question
+not very closely related to what had gone before.
+
+--Do you think they mean business?
+
+--I beg your pardon, but it would be of material assistance to me in
+answering your question if I knew who “they” might happen to be.
+
+--Why, those chaps that are setting folks on to burn us all up in our
+beds. Political firebugs we call 'em up our way. Want to substitoot the
+match-box for the ballot-box. Scare all our old women half to death.
+
+--Oh--ah--yes--to be sure. I don't believe they say what the papers put
+in their mouths any more than that a friend of mine wrote the letter
+about Worcester's and Webster's Dictionaries, that he had to disown the
+other day. These newspaper fellows are half asleep when they make up
+their reports at two or three o'clock in the morning, and fill out the
+speeches to suit themselves. I do remember some things that sounded
+pretty bad,--about as bad as nitro-glycerine, for that matter. But I
+don't believe they ever said 'em, when they spoke their pieces, or if
+they said 'em I know they did n't mean 'em. Something like this, wasn't
+it? If the majority didn't do something the minority wanted 'em to, then
+the people were to burn up our cities, and knock us down and jump on our
+stomachs. That was about the kind of talk, as the papers had it; I don't
+wonder it scared the old women.
+
+--The Member was wide awake by this time.
+
+--I don't seem to remember of them partickler phrases, he said.
+
+--Dear me, no; only levelling everything smack, and trampling us under
+foot, as the reporters made it out. That means FIRE, I take it, and
+knocking you down and stamping on you, whichever side of your person
+happens to be uppermost. Sounded like a threat; meant, of course, for
+a warning. But I don't believe it was in the piece as they spoke
+it,--could n't have been. Then, again, Paris wasn't to blame,--as much
+as to say--so the old women thought--that New York or Boston would n't
+be to blame if it did the same thing. I've heard of political gatherings
+where they barbecued an ox, but I can't think there 's a party in this
+country that wants to barbecue a city. But it is n't quite fair to
+frighten the old women. I don't doubt there are a great many people
+wiser than I am that would n't be hurt by a hint I am going to give
+them. It's no matter what you say when you talk to yourself, but when
+you talk to other people, your business is to use words with reference
+to the way in which those other people are like to understand them.
+These pretended inflammatory speeches, so reported as to seem full
+of combustibles, even if they were as threatening as they have been
+represented, would do no harm if read or declaimed in a man's study
+to his books, or by the sea-shore to the waves. But they are not so
+wholesome moral entertainment for the dangerous classes. Boys must not
+touch off their squibs and crackers too near the powder-magazine. This
+kind of speech does n't help on the millennium much.
+
+--It ain't jest the thing to grease your ex with ile o' vitrul, said the
+Member.
+
+--No, the wheel of progress will soon stick fast if you do. You can't
+keep a dead level long, if you burn everything down flat to make it.
+Why, bless your soul, if all the cities of the world were reduced ashes,
+you'd have a new set of millionnaires in a couple of years or so, out
+of the trade in potash. In the mean time, what is the use of setting the
+man with the silver watch against the man with the gold watch, and the
+man without any watch against them both?
+
+--You can't go agin human natur', said the Member
+
+--You speak truly. Here we are travelling through desert together like
+the children of Israel. Some pick up more manna and catch more quails
+than others and ought to help their hungry neighbors more than they do;
+that will always be so until we come back to primitive Christianity, the
+road to which does not seem to be via Paris, just now; but we don't want
+the incendiary's pillar of a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night
+to lead us in the march to civilization, and we don't want a Moses who
+will smite rock, not to bring out water for our thirst, but petroleum to
+burn us all up with.
+
+--It is n't quite fair to run an opposition to the other funny speaker,
+Rev. Petroleum V. What 's-his-name,--spoke up an anonymous boarder.
+
+--You may have been thinking, perhaps, that it was I,--I, the Poet, who
+was the chief talker in the one-sided dialogue to which you have
+been listening. If so, you were mistaken. It was the old man in the
+spectacles with large round glasses and the iron-gray hair. He does a
+good deal of the talking at our table, and, to tell the truth, I rather
+like to hear him. He stirs me up, and finds me occupation in various
+ways, and especially, because he has good solid prejudices, that one
+can rub against, and so get up and let off a superficial intellectual
+irritation, just as the cattle rub their backs against a rail (you
+remember Sydney Smith's contrivance in his pasture) or their sides
+against an apple-tree (I don't know why they take to these so
+particularly, but you will often find the trunk of an apple-tree as
+brown and smooth as an old saddle at the height of a cow's ribs). I
+think they begin rubbing in cold blood, and then, you know, l'appetit
+vient en mangeant, the more they rub the more they want to. That is the
+way to use your friend's prejudices. This is a sturdy-looking personage
+of a good deal more than middle age, his face marked with strong manly
+furrows, records of hard thinking and square stand-up fights with life
+and all its devils. There is a slight touch of satire in his discourse
+now and then, and an odd way of answering one that makes it hard to
+guess how much more or less he means than he seems to say. But he is
+honest, and always has a twinkle in his eye to put you on your guard
+when he does not mean to be taken quite literally. I think old Ben
+Franklin had just that look. I know his great-grandson (in pace!) had
+it, and I don't doubt he took it in the straight line of descent, as he
+did his grand intellect.
+
+The Member of the Haouse evidently comes from one of the lesser inland
+centres of civilization, where the flora is rich in checkerberries
+and similar bounties of nature, and the fauna lively with squirrels,
+wood-chucks, and the like; where the leading sportsmen snare patridges,
+as they are called, and “hunt” foxes with guns; where rabbits are
+entrapped in “figgery fours,” and trout captured with the unpretentious
+earth-worm, instead of the gorgeous fly; where they bet prizes for
+butter and cheese, and rag-carpets executed by ladies more than seventy
+years of age; where whey wear dress-coats before dinner, and cock their
+hats on one side when they feel conspicuous and distinshed; where they
+say--Sir to you in their common talk and have other Arcadian and bucolic
+ways which are highly unobjectionable, but are not so much admired in
+cities, where the people are said to be not half so virtuous.
+
+There is with us a boy of modest dimensions, not otherwise especially
+entitled to the epithet, who ought be six or seven years old, to judge
+by the gap left by his front milk teeth, these having resigned in favor
+of their successors, who have not yet presented their credentials. He
+is rather old for an enfant terrible, and quite too young to have grown
+into the bashfulness of adolescence; but he has some of the qualities
+of both these engaging periods of development, The member of the Haouse
+calls him “Bub,” invariably, such term I take to be an abbreviation
+of “Beelzeb,” as “bus” is the short form of “omnibus.” Many eminently
+genteel persons, whose manners make them at home anywhere, being
+evidently unaware of true derivation of this word, are in the habit
+of addressing all unknown children by one of the two terms, “bub” and
+“sis,” which they consider endears them greatly to the young people, and
+recommends them to the acquaintance of their honored parents, if
+these happen to accompany them. The other boarders commonly call our
+diminutive companion That Boy. He is a sort of expletive at the table,
+serving to stop gaps, taking the same place a washer does that makes a
+loose screw fit, and contriving to get driven in like a wedge between
+any two chairs where there is a crevice. I shall not call that boy by
+the monosyllable referred to, because, though he has many impish traits
+at present, he may become civilized and humanized by being in good
+company. Besides, it is a term which I understand is considered vulgar
+by the nobility and gentry of the Mother Country, and it is not to be
+found in Mr. Worcester's Dictionary, on which, as is well known, the
+literary men of this metropolis are by special statute allowed to be
+sworn in place of the Bible. I know one, certainly, who never takes his
+oath on any other dictionary, any advertising fiction to the contrary,
+notwithstanding.
+
+I wanted to write out my account of some of the other boarders, but a
+domestic occurrence--a somewhat prolonged visit from the landlady, who
+is rather too anxious that I should be comfortable broke in upon the
+continuity of my thoughts, and occasioned--in short, I gave up writing
+for that day.
+
+--“I wonder if anything like this ever happened. Author writing, jacks?”
+
+ “To be, or not to be: that is the question
+ Whether 't is nobl--”
+
+--“William, shall we have pudding to-day, or flapjacks?”
+
+--“Flapjacks, an' it please thee, Anne, or a pudding, for that matter;
+or what thou wilt, good woman, so thou come not betwixt me and my
+thought.”
+
+--Exit Mistress Anne, with strongly accented closing of the door and
+murmurs to the effect: “Ay, marry, 't is well for thee to talk as if
+thou hadst no stomach to fill. We poor wives must swink for our masters,
+while they sit in their arm-chairs growing as great in the girth through
+laziness as that ill-mannered fat man William hath writ of in his books
+of players' stuff. One had as well meddle with a porkpen, which hath
+thorns all over him, as try to deal with William when his eyes be
+rolling in that mad way.”
+
+William--writing once more--after an exclamation in strong English of
+the older pattern,--
+
+ “Whether 't is nobler--nobler--nobler--”
+
+To do what? O these women! these women! to have puddings or flapjacks!
+Oh!--
+
+ “Whether 't is nobler--in the mind--to suffer
+ The slings--and arrows--of--”
+
+Oh! Oh! these women! I will e'en step over to the parson's and have a
+cup of sack with His Reverence for methinks Master Hamlet hath forgot
+that which was just now on his lips to speak.
+
+So I shall have to put off making my friends acquainted with the other
+boarders, some of whom seem to me worth studying and describing. I have
+something else of a graver character for my readers. I am talking, you
+know, as a poet; I do not say I deserve the name, but I have taken
+it, and if you consider me at all it must be in that aspect. You will,
+therefore, be willing to run your eyes over a few pages read, of course
+by request, to a select party of the boarders.
+
+ THE GAMBREL-ROOFED HOUSE AND ITS OUTLOOK.
+
+ A PANORAMA, WITH SIDE-SHOWS.
+
+My birthplace, the home of my childhood and earlier and later boyhood,
+has within a few months passed out of the ownership of my family into
+the hands of that venerable Alma Mater who seems to have renewed her
+youth, and has certainly repainted her dormitories. In truth, when I
+last revisited that familiar scene and looked upon the flammantia mania
+of the old halls, “Massachusetts” with the dummy clock-dial, “Harvard”
+ with the garrulous belfry, little “Holden” with the sculptured
+unpunishable cherub over its portal, and the rest of my early
+brick-and-mortar acquaintances, I could not help saying to myself that
+I had lived to see the peaceable establishment of the Red Republic of
+Letters.
+
+Many of the things I shall put down I have no doubt told before in a
+fragmentary way, how many I cannot be quite sure, as I do not very often
+read my own prose works. But when a man dies a great deal is said of him
+which has often been said in other forms, and now this dear old house
+is dead to me in one sense, and I want to gather up my recollections and
+wind a string of narrative round them, tying them up like a nosegay
+for the last tribute: the same blossoms in it I have often laid on its
+threshold while it was still living for me.
+
+We Americans are all cuckoos,--we make our homes in the nests of other
+birds. I have read somewhere that the lineal descendants of the man
+who carted off the body of William Rufus, with Walter Tyrrel's arrow
+sticking in it, have driven a cart (not absolutely the same one,
+I suppose) in the New Forest, from that day to this. I don't quite
+understand Mr. Ruskin's saying (if he said it) that he couldn't get
+along in a country where there were no castles, but I do think we lose
+a great deal in living where there are so few permanent homes. You will
+see how much I parted with which was not reckoned in the price paid for
+the old homestead.
+
+I shall say many things which an uncharitable reader might find fault
+with as personal. I should not dare to call myself a poet if I did not;
+for if there is anything that gives one a title to that name, it is that
+his inner nature is naked and is not ashamed. But there are many such
+things I shall put in words, not because they are personal, but because
+they are human, and are born of just such experiences as those who hear
+or read what I say are like to have had in greater or less measure.
+I find myself so much like other people that I often wonder at the
+coincidence. It was only the other day that I sent out a copy of verses
+about my great-grandmother's picture, and I was surprised to find how
+many other people had portraits of their great-grandmothers or other
+progenitors, about which they felt as I did about mine, and for whom
+I had spoken, thinking I was speaking for myself only. And so I am not
+afraid to talk very freely with you, my precious reader or listener. You
+too, Beloved, were born somewhere and remember your birthplace or your
+early home; for you some house is haunted by recollections; to some roof
+you have bid farewell. Your hand is upon mine, then, as I guide my pen.
+Your heart frames the responses to the litany of my remembrance. For
+myself it is a tribute of affection I am rendering, and I should put it
+on record for my own satisfaction, were there none to read or to listen.
+
+I hope you will not say that I have built a pillared portico of
+introduction to a humble structure of narrative. For when you look at
+the old gambrel-roofed house, you will see an unpretending mansion, such
+as very possibly you were born in yourself, or at any rate such a place
+of residence as your minister or some of your well-to-do country cousins
+find good enough, but not at all too grand for them. We have stately
+old Colonial palaces in our ancient village, now a city, and a thriving
+one,--square-fronted edifices that stand back from the vulgar highway,
+with folded arms, as it were; social fortresses of the time when
+the twilight lustre of the throne reached as far as our half-cleared
+settlement, with a glacis before them in the shape of a long broad
+gravel-walk, so that in King George's time they looked as formidably to
+any but the silk-stocking gentry as Gibraltar or Ehrenbreitstein to a
+visitor without the password. We forget all this in the kindly welcome
+they give us to-day; for some of them are still standing and doubly
+famous, as we all know. But the gambrel-roofed house, though stately
+enough for college dignitaries and scholarly clergymen, was not one of
+those old Tory, Episcopal-church-goer's strongholds. One of its doors
+opens directly upon the green, always called the Common; the other,
+facing the south, a few steps from it, over a paved foot-walk, on the
+other side of which is the miniature front yard, bordered with lilacs
+and syringas. The honest mansion makes no pretensions. Accessible,
+companionable, holding its hand out to all, comfortable, respectable,
+and even in its way dignified, but not imposing, not a house for his
+Majesty's Counsellor, or the Right Reverend successor of Him who had not
+where to lay his head, for something like a hundred and fifty years it
+has stood in its lot, and seen the generations of men come and go like
+the leaves of the forest. I passed some pleasant hours, a few years
+since, in the Registry of Deeds and the Town Records, looking up
+the history of the old house. How those dear friends of mine, the
+antiquarians, for whose grave councils I compose my features on the
+too rare Thursdays when I am at liberty to meet them, in whose human
+herbarium the leaves and blossoms of past generations are so carefully
+spread out and pressed and laid away, would listen to an expansion of
+the following brief details into an Historical Memoir!
+
+The estate was the third lot of the eighth “Squadron” (whatever that
+might be), and in the year 1707 was allotted in the distribution of
+undivided lands to “Mr. ffox,” the Reverend Jabez Fox of Woburn, it may
+be supposed, as it passed from his heirs to the first Jonathan Hastings;
+from him to his son, the long remembered College Steward; from him in
+the year 1792 to the Reverend Eliphalet Pearson, Professor of Hebrew
+and other Oriental languages in Harvard College, whose large personality
+swam into my ken when I was looking forward to my teens; from him the
+progenitors of my unborn self.
+
+I wonder if there are any such beings nowadays as the great Eliphalet,
+with his large features and conversational basso profundo, seemed to me.
+His very name had something elephantine about it, and it seemed to me
+that the house shook from cellar to garret at his footfall. Some have
+pretended that he had Olympian aspirations, and wanted to sit in the
+seat of Jove and bear the academic thunderbolt and the aegis inscribed
+Christo et Ecclesiae. It is a common weakness enough to wish to find
+one's self in an empty saddle; Cotton Mather was miserable all his days,
+I am afraid, after that entry in his Diary: “This Day Dr. Sewall was
+chosen President, for his Piety.”
+
+There is no doubt that the men of the older generation look bigger and
+more formidable to the boys whose eyes are turned up at their venerable
+countenances than the race which succeeds them, to the same boys grown
+older. Everything is twice as large, measured on a three-year-olds
+three-foot scale as on a thirty-year-olds six-foot scale; but age
+magnifies and aggravates persons out of due proportion. Old people are
+a kind of monsters to little folks; mild manifestations of the terrible,
+it may be, but still, with their white locks and ridged and grooved
+features, which those horrid little eyes exhaust of their details,
+like so many microscopes not exactly what human beings ought to be. The
+middle-aged and young men have left comparatively faint impressions
+in my memory, but how grandly the procession of the old clergymen who
+filled our pulpit from time to time, and passed the day under our roof,
+marches before my closed eyes! At their head the most venerable David
+Osgood, the majestic minister of Medford, with massive front and shaggy
+over-shadowing eyebrows; following in the train, mild-eyed John Foster
+of Brighton, with the lambent aurora of a smile about his pleasant
+mouth, which not even the “Sabbath” could subdue to the true Levitical
+aspect; and bulky Charles Steams of Lincoln, author of “The Ladies'
+Philosophy of Love. A Poem. 1797” (how I stared at him! he was the first
+living person ever pointed out to me as a poet); and Thaddeus Mason
+Harris of Dorchester (the same who, a poor youth, trudging along, staff
+in hand, being then in a stress of sore need, found all at once that
+somewhat was adhering to the end of his stick, which somewhat proved to
+be a gold ring of price, bearing the words, “God speed thee, Friend!”),
+already in decadence as I remember him, with head slanting forward and
+downward as if looking for a place to rest in after his learned labors;
+and that other Thaddeus, the old man of West Cambridge, who outwatched
+the rest so long after they had gone to sleep in their own churchyards,
+that it almost seemed as if he meant to sit up until the morning of the
+resurrection; and bringing up the rear, attenuated but vivacious little
+Jonathan Homer of Newton, who was, to look upon, a kind of expurgated,
+reduced and Americanized copy of Voltaire, but very unlike him in
+wickedness or wit. The good-humored junior member of our family
+always loved to make him happy by setting him chirruping about Miles
+Coverdale's Version, and the Bishop's Bible, and how he wrote to his
+friend Sir Isaac (Coffin) about something or other, and how Sir Isaac
+wrote back that he was very much pleased with the contents of his
+letter, and so on about Sir Isaac, ad libitum,--for the admiral was his
+old friend, and he was proud of him. The kindly little old gentleman
+was a collector of Bibles, and made himself believe he thought he should
+publish a learned Commentary some day or other; but his friends looked
+for it only in the Greek Calends,--say on the 31st of April, when that
+should come round, if you would modernize the phrase. I recall also one
+or two exceptional and infrequent visitors with perfect distinctness:
+cheerful Elijah Kellogg, a lively missionary from the region of the
+Quoddy Indians, with much hopeful talk about Sock Bason and his tribe;
+also poor old Poor-house-Parson Isaac Smith, his head going like a
+China mandarin, as he discussed the possibilities of the escape of
+that distinguished captive whom he spoke of under the name, if I
+can reproduce phonetically its vibrating nasalities of “General
+Mmbongaparty,”--a name suggestive to my young imagination of a
+dangerous, loose-jointed skeleton, threatening us all like the armed
+figure of Death in my little New England Primer.
+
+I have mentioned only the names of those whose images come up pleasantly
+before me, and I do not mean to say anything which any descendant might
+not read smilingly. But there were some of the black-coated gentry whose
+aspect was not so agreeable to me. It is very curious to me to look back
+on my early likes and dislikes, and see how as a child I was attracted
+or repelled by such and such ministers, a good deal, as I found out
+long afterwards, according to their theological beliefs. On the whole,
+I think the old-fashioned New England divine softening down into
+Arminianism was about as agreeable as any of them. And here I may
+remark, that a mellowing rigorist is always a much pleasanter object to
+contemplate than a tightening liberal, as a cold day warming up to 32
+Fahrenheit is much more agreeable than a warm one chilling down to
+the same temperature. The least pleasing change is that kind of mental
+hemiplegia which now and then attacks the rational side of a man at
+about the same period of life when one side of the body is liable to
+be palsied, and in fact is, very probably, the same thing as palsy, in
+another form. The worst of it is that the subjects of it never seem to
+suspect that they are intellectual invalids, stammerers and cripples
+at best, but are all the time hitting out at their old friends with the
+well arm, and calling them hard names out of their twisted mouths.
+
+It was a real delight to have one of those good, hearty, happy,
+benignant old clergymen pass the Sunday, with us, and I can remember
+some whose advent made the day feel almost like “Thanksgiving.” But
+now and then would come along a clerical visitor with a sad face and a
+wailing voice, which sounded exactly as if somebody must be lying dead
+up stairs, who took no interest in us children, except a painful one, as
+being in a bad way with our cheery looks, and did more to unchristianize
+us with his woebegone ways than all his sermons were like to accomplish
+in the other direction. I remember one in particular, who twitted me so
+with my blessings as a Christian child, and whined so to me about the
+naked black children who, like the “Little Vulgar Boy,” “had n't got no
+supper and hadn't got no ma,” and hadn't got no Catechism, (how I wished
+for the moment I was a little black boy!) that he did more in that one
+day to make me a heathen than he had ever done in a month to make a
+Christian out of an infant Hottentot. What a debt we owe to our friends
+of the left centre, the Brooklyn and the Park Street and the
+Summer street ministers; good, wholesome, sound-bodied, one-minded,
+cheerful-spirited men, who have taken the place of those wailing
+poitrinaires with the bandanna handkerchiefs round their meagre throats
+and a funeral service in their forlorn physiognomies! I might have been
+a minister myself, for aught I know, if this clergyman had not looked
+and talked so like an undertaker.
+
+All this belongs to one of the side-shows, to which I promised those who
+would take tickets to the main exhibition should have entrance gratis.
+If I were writing a poem you would expect, as a matter of course, that
+there would be a digression now and then.
+
+To come back to the old house and its former tenant, the Professor of
+Hebrew and other Oriental languages. Fifteen years he lived with his
+family under its roof. I never found the slightest trace of him until a
+few years ago, when I cleaned and brightened with pious hands the brass
+lock of “the study,” which had for many years been covered with a thick
+coat of paint. On that I found scratched; as with a nail or fork, the
+following inscription:
+
+ E PE
+
+Only that and nothing more, but the story told itself. Master Edward
+Pearson, then about as high as the lock, was disposed to immortalize
+himself in monumental brass, and had got so far towards it, when a
+sudden interruption, probably a smart box on the ear, cheated him of his
+fame, except so far as this poor record may rescue it. Dead long ago. I
+remember him well, a grown man, as a visitor at a later period; and,
+for some reason, I recall him in the attitude of the Colossus of Rhodes,
+standing full before a generous wood-fire, not facing it, but quite the
+contrary, a perfect picture of the content afforded by a blazing hearth
+contemplated from that point of view, and, as the heat stole through
+his person and kindled his emphatic features, seeming to me a pattern of
+manly beauty. What a statue gallery of posturing friends we all have in
+our memory! The old Professor himself sometimes visited the house after
+it had changed hands. Of course, my recollections are not to be wholly
+trusted, but I always think I see his likeness in a profile face to be
+found among the illustrations of Rees's Cyclopaedia. (See Plates, Vol.
+IV., Plate 2, Painting, Diversities of the Human Face, Fig. 4.)
+
+And now let us return to our chief picture. In the days of my earliest
+remembrance, a row of tall Lombardy poplars mounted guard on the western
+side of the old mansion. Whether, like the cypress, these trees suggest
+the idea of the funeral torch or the monumental spire, whether their
+tremulous leaves make wits afraid by sympathy with their nervous
+thrills, whether the faint balsamic smell of their foliage and their
+closely swathed limbs have in them vague hints of dead Pharaohs
+stiffened in their cerements, I will guess; but they always seemed to
+me to give an of sepulchral sadness to the house before which stood
+sentries. Not so with the row of elms which you may see leading up
+towards the western entrance. I think the patriarch of them all went
+over in the great gale of 1815; I know I used to shake the youngest of
+them with my hands, stout as it is now, with a trunk that would defy the
+bully of Crotona, or the strong man whose liaison with the Lady Delilah
+proved so disastrous.
+
+The College plain would be nothing without its elms. As the long hair of
+a woman is a glory to her, are these green tresses that bank themselves
+against sky in thick clustered masses the ornament and the pride of the
+classic green. You know the “Washington elm,” or if you do not, you had
+better rekindle our patriotism by reading the inscription, which tells
+you that under its shadow the great leader first drew his sword at the
+head of an American army. In a line with that you may see two others:
+the coral fan, as I always called it from its resemblance in form to
+that beautiful marine growth, and a third a little farther along. I have
+heard it said that all three were planted at the same time, and that
+the difference of their growth is due to the slope of the ground,--the
+Washington elm being lower than either of the others. There is a row of
+elms just in front of the old house on the south. When I was a child
+the one at the southwest corner was struck by lightning, and one of
+its limbs and a long ribbon of bark torn away. The tree never fully
+recovered its symmetry and vigor, and forty years and more afterwards a
+second thunderbolt crashed upon it and set its heart on fire, like those
+of the lost souls in the Hall of Eblis. Heaven had twice blasted it, and
+the axe finished what the lightning had begun.
+
+The soil of the University town is divided into patches of sandy and
+of clayey ground. The Common and the College green, near which the old
+house stands, are on one of the sandy patches. Four curses are the local
+inheritance: droughts, dust, mud, and canker-worms. I cannot but think
+that all the characters of a region help to modify the children born in
+it. I am fond of making apologies for human nature, and I think I
+could find an excuse for myself if I, too, were dry and barren and
+muddy-witted and “cantankerous,”--disposed to get my back up, like those
+other natives of the soil.
+
+I know this, that the way Mother Earth treats a boy shapes out a kind
+of natural theology for him. I fell into Manichean ways of thinking from
+the teaching of my garden experiences. Like other boys in the country,
+I had my patch of ground, to which, in the spring-time, I entrusted the
+seeds furnished me, with a confident trust in their resurrection and
+glorification in the better world of summer. But I soon found that my
+lines had fallen in a place where a vegetable growth had to run the
+gauntlet of as many foes and dials as a Christian pilgrim. Flowers would
+not Blow; daffodils perished like criminals in their cone demned caps,
+without their petals ever seeing daylight; roses were disfigured with
+monstrous protrusions through their very centres,--something that looked
+like a second bud pushing through the middle of the corolla; lettuces
+and cabbages would not head; radishes knotted themselves until they
+looked like centenerians' fingers; and on every stem, on every leaf,
+and both sides of it, and at the root of everything that dew, was a
+professional specialist in the shape of grub, caterpillar, aphis, or
+other expert, whose business it was to devour that particular part,
+and help order the whole attempt at vegetation. Such experiences must
+influence a child born to them. A sandy soil, where nothing flourishes
+but weeds and evil beasts of small dimensions, must breed different
+qualities in its human offspring from one of those fat and fertile spots
+which the wit whom I have once before noted described so happily that,
+if I quoted the passage, its brilliancy would spoil one of my pages, as
+a diamond breastpin sometimes kills the social effect of the wearer, who
+might have passed for a gentleman without it. Your arid patch of earth
+should seem to the natural birthplace of the leaner virtues and the
+abler vices,--of temperance and the domestic proprieties on the one
+hand, with a tendency to light weights in groceries and provisions, and
+to clandestine abstraction from the person on the other, as opposed to
+the free hospitality, the broadly planned burglaries, and the largely
+conceived homicides of our rich Western alluvial regions. Yet Nature is
+never wholly unkind. Economical as she was in my unparadised Eden, hard
+as it was to make some of my floral houris unveil, still the damask
+roses sweetened the June breezes, the bladed and plumed flower-de-luces
+unfolded their close-wrapped cones, and larkspurs and lupins, lady's
+delights,--plebeian manifestations of the pansy,--self-sowing marigolds,
+hollyhocks, the forest flowers of two seasons, and the perennial lilacs
+and syringas,--all whispered to' the winds blowing over them that some
+caressing presence was around me.
+
+Beyond the garden was “the field,” a vast domain of four acres or
+thereabout, by the measurement of after years, bordered to the north by
+a fathomless chasm,--the ditch the base-ball players of the present era
+jump over; on the east by unexplored territory; on the south by a barren
+enclosure, where the red sorrel proclaimed liberty and equality under
+its drapeau rouge, and succeeded in establishing a vegetable commune
+where all were alike, poor, mean, sour, and uninteresting; and on the
+west by the Common, not then disgraced by jealous enclosures, which
+make it look like a cattle-market. Beyond, as I looked round, were
+the Colleges, the meeting-house, the little square market-house, long
+vanished; the burial-ground where the dead Presidents stretched their
+weary bones under epitaphs stretched out at as full length as their
+subjects; the pretty church where the gouty Tories used to kneel on
+their hassocks; the district schoolhouse, and hard by it Ma'am Hancock's
+cottage, never so called in those days, but rather “tenfooter”; then
+houses scattered near and far, open spaces, the shadowy elms, round
+hilltops in the distance, and over all the great bowl of the sky. Mind
+you, this was the WORLD, as I first knew it; terra veteribus cognita, as
+Mr. Arrowsmith would have called it, if he had mapped the universe of my
+infancy:
+
+But I am forgetting the old house again in the landscape. The worst of
+a modern stylish mansion is, that it has no place for ghosts. I watched
+one building not long since. It had no proper garret, to begin with,
+only a sealed interval between the roof and attics, where a spirit could
+not be accommodated, unless it were flattened out like Ravel, Brother,
+after the millstone had fallen on him. There was not a nook or a corner
+in the whole horse fit to lodge any respectable ghost, for every part
+was as open to observation as a literary man's character and condition,
+his figure and estate, his coat and his countenance, are to his (or her)
+Bohemian Majesty on a tour of inspection through his (or her) subjects'
+keyholes.
+
+Now the old house had wainscots, behind which the mice were always
+scampering and squeaking and rattling down the plaster, and enacting
+family scenes and parlor theatricals. It had a cellar where the cold
+slug clung to the walls, and the misanthropic spider withdrew from the
+garish day; where the green mould loved to grow, and the long white
+potato-shoots went feeling along the floor, if haply they might find
+the daylight; it had great brick pillars, always in a cold sweat with
+holding up the burden they had been aching under day and night far a
+century and more; it had sepulchral arches closed by rough doors that
+hung on hinges rotten with rust, behind which doors, if there was not
+a heap of bones connected with a mysterious disappearance of long ago,
+there well might have been, for it was just the place to look for them.
+It had a garret; very nearly such a one as it seems to me one of us
+has described in one of his books; but let us look at this one as I
+can reproduce it from memory. It has a flooring of laths with ridges
+of mortar squeezed up between them, which if you tread on you will go
+to--the Lord have mercy on you! where will you go to?--the same being
+crossed by narrow bridges of boards, on which you may put your feet, but
+with fear and trembling. Above you and around you are beams and joists,
+on some of which you may see, when the light is let in, the marks of the
+conchoidal clippings of the broadaxe, showing the rude way in which the
+timber was shaped as it came, full of sap, from the neighboring forest.
+It is a realm of darkness and thick dust, and shroud-like cobwebs
+and dead things they wrap in their gray folds. For a garret is like a
+seashore, where wrecks are thrown up and slowly go to pieces. There is
+the cradle which the old man you just remember was rocked in; there is
+the ruin of the bedstead he died on; that ugly slanting contrivance used
+to be put under his pillow in the days when his breath came hard; there
+is his old chair with both arms gone, symbol of the desolate time when
+he had nothing earthly left to lean on; there is the large wooden reel
+which the blear-eyed old deacon sent the minister's lady, who thanked
+him graciously, and twirled it smilingly, and in fitting season bowed it
+out decently to the limbo of troublesome conveniences. And there are old
+leather portmanteaus, like stranded porpoises, their mouths gaping in
+gaunt hunger for the food with which they used to be gorged to bulging
+repletion; and old brass andirons, waiting until time shall revenge them
+on their paltry substitutes, and they shall have their own again, and
+bring with them the fore-stick and the back-log of ancient days; and
+the empty churn, with its idle dasher, which the Nancys and Phoebes, who
+have left their comfortable places to the Bridgets and Norahs, used to
+handle to good purpose; and the brown, shaky old spinning-wheel, which
+was running, it may be, in the days when they were hinging the Salem
+witches.
+
+Under the dark and haunted garret were attic chambers which themselves
+had histories. On a pane in the northeastern chamber may be read these
+names:
+
+“John Tracy,” “Robert Roberts,” “Thomas Prince;” “Stultus” another hand
+had added. When I found these names a few years ago (wrong side up, for
+the window had been reversed), I looked at once in the Triennial to find
+them, for the epithet showed that they were probably students. I found
+them all under the years 1771 and 1773. Does it please their thin ghosts
+thus to be dragged to the light of day? Has “Stultus” forgiven the
+indignity of being thus characterized?
+
+The southeast chamber was the Library Hospital. Every scholar should
+have a book infirmary attached his library. There should find a
+peaceable refuge the many books, invalids from their birth, which
+are sent “with the best regards of the Author”; the respected, but
+unpresentable cripples which have lost cover; the odd volumes of honored
+sets which go mourning all their days for their lost brother; the
+school-books which have been so often the subjects of assault and
+battery, that they look as if the police must know them by heart; these
+and still more the pictured story-books, beginning with Mother Goose
+(which a dear old friend of mine has just been amusing his philosophic
+leisure with turning most ingeniously and happily into the tongues of
+Virgil and Homer), will be precious mementos by and by, when children
+and grandchildren come along. What would I not give for that dear little
+paper-bound quarto, in large and most legible type, on certain pages of
+which the tender hand that was the shield of my infancy had crossed out
+with deep black marks something awful, probably about BEARS, such as
+once tare two-and-forty of us little folks for making faces, and the
+very name of which made us hide our heads under the bedclothes.
+
+I made strange acquaintances in that book infirmary up in the southeast
+attic. The “Negro Plot” at New York helped to implant a feeling in me
+which it took Mr. Garrison a good many years to root out. “Thinks I to
+Myself,” an old novel, which has been attributed to a famous statesman,
+introduced me to a world of fiction which was not represented on the
+shelves of the library proper, unless perhaps by Coelebs in Search of a
+Wife, or allegories of the bitter tonic class, as the young doctor that
+sits on the other side of the table would probably call them. I always,
+from an early age, had a keen eye for a story with a moral sticking out
+of it, and gave it a wide berth, though in my later years I have
+myself written a couple of “medicated novels,” as one of my dearest and
+pleasantest old friends wickedly called them, when somebody asked her if
+she had read the last of my printed performances. I forgave the satire
+for the charming esprit of the epithet. Besides the works I have
+mentioned, there was an old, old Latin alchemy book, with the manuscript
+annotations of some ancient Rosicrucian, in the pages of which I had
+a vague notion that I might find the mighty secret of the Lapis
+Philosophorum, otherwise called Chaos, the Dragon, the Green Lion, the
+Quinta Essentia, the Soap of Sages, the Vinegar of Philosophers, the Dew
+of Heavenly Grace, the Egg, the Old Man, the Sun, the Moon, and by all
+manner of odd aliases, as I am assured by the plethoric little book
+before me, in parchment covers browned like a meerschaum with the smoke
+of furnaces and the thumbing of dead gold seekers, and the fingering of
+bony-handed book-misers, and the long intervals of dusty slumber on the
+shelves of the bouquiniste; for next year it will be three centuries
+old, and it had already seen nine generations of men when I caught its
+eye (Alchemiae Doctrina) and recognized it at pistol-shot distance as a
+prize, among the breviaries and Heures and trumpery volumes of the
+old open-air dealer who exposed his treasures under the shadow of St.
+Sulpice. I have never lost my taste for alchemy since I first got hold
+of the Palladium Spagyricum of Peter John Faber, and sought--in vain,
+it is true--through its pages for a clear, intelligible, and practical
+statement of how I could turn my lead sinkers and the weights of
+tall kitchen clock into good yellow gold, specific gravity 19.2, and
+exchangeable for whatever I then wanted, and for many more things than
+I was then aware of. One of the greatest pleasures of childhood found
+in the mysteries which it hides from the skepticism of the elders, and
+works up into small mythologies of its own. I have seen all this
+played over again in adult life,--the same delightful bewilderment
+semi-emotional belief in listening to the gaseous praises of this or
+that fantastic system, that I found in the pleasing mirages conjured
+up for me by the ragged old volume I used to pore over in the southeast
+attic-chamber.
+
+The rooms of the second story, the chambers of birth and death, are
+sacred to silent memories.
+
+Let us go down to the ground-floor. I should have begun with this, but
+that the historical reminiscences of the old house have been recently
+told in a most interesting memoir by a distinguished student of our
+local history. I retain my doubts about those “dents” on the floor of
+the right-hand room, “the study” of successive occupants, said to have
+been made by the butts of the Continental militia's firelocks, but this
+was the cause to which the story told me in childhood laid them. That
+military consultations were held in that room when the house was General
+Ward's headquarters, that the Provincial generals and colonels and other
+men of war there planned the movement which ended in the fortifying
+of Bunker's Hill, that Warren slept in the house the night before the
+battle, that President Langdon went forth from the western door and
+prayed for God's blessing on the men just setting forth on their bloody
+expedition,--all these things have been told, and perhaps none of them
+need be doubted.
+
+But now for fifty years and more that room has been a meeting-ground for
+the platoons and companies which range themselves at the scholar's word
+of command. Pleasant it is to think that the retreating host of books is
+to give place to a still larger army of volumes, which have seen service
+under the eye of a great commander. For here the noble collection of him
+so freshly remembered as our silver-tongued orator, our erudite scholar,
+our honored College President, our accomplished statesman, our courtly
+ambassador, are to be reverently gathered by the heir of his name,
+himself not unworthy to be surrounded by that august assembly of the
+wise of all ages and of various lands and languages.
+
+Could such a many-chambered edifice have stood a century and a half and
+not have had its passages of romance to bequeath their lingering
+legends to the after-time? There are other names on some of the small
+window-panes, which must have had young flesh-and-blood owners, and
+there is one of early date which elderly persons have whispered was
+borne by a fair woman, whose graces made the house beautiful in the eyes
+of the youth of that time. One especially--you will find the name of
+Fortescue Vernon, of the class of 1780, in the Triennial Catalogue--was
+a favored visitor to the old mansion; but he went over seas, I think
+they told me, and died still young, and the name of the maiden which is
+scratched on the windowpane was never changed. I am telling the story
+honestly, as I remember it, but I may have colored it unconsciously, and
+the legendary pane may be broken before this for aught I know. At least,
+I have named no names except the beautiful one of the supposed hero of
+the romantic story.
+
+It was a great happiness to have been born in an old house haunted by
+such recollections, with harmless ghosts walking its corridors, with
+fields of waving grass and trees and singing birds, and that vast
+territory of four or five acres around it to give a child the sense that
+he was born to a noble principality. It has been a great pleasure
+to retain a certain hold upon it for so many years; and since in the
+natural course of things it must at length pass into other hands, it
+is a gratification to see the old place making itself tidy for a new
+tenant, like some venerable dame who is getting ready to entertain a
+neighbor of condition. Not long since a new cap of shingles adorned this
+ancient mother among the village--now city--mansions. She has dressed
+herself in brighter colors than she has hitherto worn, so they tell
+me, within the last few days. She has modernized her aspects in several
+ways; she has rubbed bright the glasses through which she looks at the
+Common and the Colleges; and as the sunsets shine upon her through
+the flickering leaves or the wiry spray of the elms I remember from my
+childhood, they will glorify her into the aspect she wore when President
+Holyoke, father of our long since dead centenarian, looked upon her in
+her youthful comeliness.
+
+The quiet corner formed by this and the neighboring residences has
+changed less than any place I can remember. Our kindly, polite, shrewd,
+and humorous old neighbor, who in former days has served the town
+as constable and auctioneer, and who bids fair to become the oldest
+inhabitant of the city, was there when I was born, and is living there
+to-day. By and by the stony foot of the great University will plant
+itself on this whole territory, and the private recollections which
+clung so tenaciously and fondly to the place and its habitations will
+have died with those who cherished them.
+
+Shall they ever live again in the memory of those who loved them here
+below? What is this life without the poor accidents which made it our
+own, and by which we identify ourselves? Ah me! I might like to be a
+winged chorister, but still it seems to me I should hardly be quite
+happy if I could not recall at will the Old House with the Long Entry,
+and the White Chamber (where I wrote the first verses that made me
+known, with a pencil, stans pede in uno, pretty, nearly), and the Little
+Parlor, and the Study, and the old books in uniforms as varied as those
+of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company used to be, if my memory
+serves me right, and the front yard with the Star-of-Bethlehems growing,
+flowerless, among the grass, and the dear faces to be seen no more there
+or anywhere on this earthly place of farewells.
+
+I have told my story. I do not know what special gifts have been granted
+or denied me; but this I know, that I am like so many others of my
+fellow-creatures, that when I smile, I feel as if they must; when I cry,
+I think their eyes fill; and it always seems to me that when I am most
+truly myself I come nearest to them and am surest of being listened to
+by the brothers and sisters of the larger family into which I was born
+so long ago. I have often feared they might be tired of me and what I
+tell them. But then, perhaps, would come a letter from some quiet body
+in some out-of-the-way place, which showed me that I had said something
+which another had often felt but never said, or told the secret of
+another's heart in unburdening my own. Such evidences that one is in
+the highway of human experience and feeling lighten the footsteps
+wonderfully. So it is that one is encouraged to go on writing as long as
+the world has anything that interests him, for he never knows how many
+of his fellow-beings he may please or profit, and in how many places his
+name will be spoken as that of a friend.
+
+In the mood suggested by my story I have ventured on the poem that
+follows. Most people love this world more than they are willing to
+confess, and it is hard to conceive ourselves weaned from it so as to
+feel no emotion at the thought of its most sacred recollections, even
+after a sojourn of years, as we should count the lapse of earthly
+time,--in the realm where, sooner or later, all tears shall be wiped
+away. I hope, therefore, the title of my lines will not frighten those
+who are little accustomed to think of men and women as human beings in
+any state but the present.
+
+ HOMESICK IN HEAVEN.
+
+ THE DIVINE VOICE.
+
+ Go seek thine earth-born sisters,--thus the Voice
+ That all obey,--the sad and silent three;
+ These only, while the hosts of heaven rejoice,
+ Smile never: ask them what their sorrows be:
+
+ And when the secret of their griefs they tell,
+ Look on them with thy mild, half-human eyes;
+ Say what thou wast on earth; thou knowest well;
+ So shall they cease from unavailing sighs.
+
+ THE ANGEL.
+
+ --Why thus, apart,--the swift-winged herald spake,
+ --Sit ye with silent lips and unstrung lyres
+ While the trisagion's blending chords awake
+ In shouts of joy from all the heavenly choirs?
+
+ THE FIRST SPIRIT.
+
+ --Chide not thy sisters,--thus the answer came;
+ --Children of earth, our half-weaned nature clings
+ To earth's fond memories, and her whispered name
+ Untunes our quivering lips, our saddened strings;
+
+ For there we loved, and where we love is home,
+ Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts,
+ Though o'er us shine the jasper-lighted dome:--
+
+ The chain may lengthen, but it never parts!
+
+ Sometimes a sunlit sphere comes rolling by,
+ And then we softly whisper,--can it be?
+ And leaning toward the silvery orb, we try
+ To hear the music of its murmuring sea;
+
+ To catch, perchance, some flashing glimpse of green,
+ Or breathe some wild-wood fragrance, wafted through
+ The opening gates of pearl, that fold between
+ The blinding splendors and the changeless blue.
+
+ THE ANGEL.
+
+ --Nay, sister, nay! a single healing leaf
+ Plucked from the bough of yon twelve-fruited tree,
+ Would soothe such anguish,--deeper stabbing grief
+ Has pierced thy throbbing heart--
+
+ THE FIRST SPIRIT.
+
+ --Ah, woe is me!
+ I from my clinging babe was rudely torn;
+ His tender lips a loveless bosom pressed
+ Can I forget him in my life new born?
+ O that my darling lay upon my breast!
+
+ THE ANGEL.
+
+ --And thou?
+
+ THE SECOND SPIRIT.
+
+ I was a fair and youthful bride,
+
+ The kiss of love still burns upon my cheek,
+ He whom I worshipped, ever at my side,
+ --Him through the spirit realm in vain I seek.
+
+ Sweet faces turn their beaming eyes on mine;
+ Ah! not in these the wished-for look I read;
+ Still for that one dear human smile I pine;
+ Thou and none other!--is the lover's creed.
+
+ THE ANGEL.
+
+ --And whence thy sadness in a world of bliss
+ Where never parting comes, nor mourner's tear?
+ Art thou, too, dreaming of a mortal's kiss
+ Amid the seraphs of the heavenly sphere?
+
+ THE THIRD SPIRIT.
+
+ --Nay, tax not me with passion's wasting fire;
+ When the swift message set my spirit free,
+ Blind, helpless, lone, I left my gray-haired sire;
+ My friends were many, he had none save me.
+
+ I left him, orphaned, in the starless night;
+ Alas, for him no cheerful morning's dawn!
+ I wear the ransomed spirit's robe of white,
+ Yet still I hear him moaning, She is gone!
+
+ THE ANGEL.
+
+ --Ye know me not, sweet sisters?--All in vain
+ Ye seek your lost ones in the shapes they wore;
+ The flower once opened may not bud again,
+ The fruit once fallen finds the stem no more.
+
+ Child, lover, sire,--yea, all things loved below,
+ Fair pictures damasked on a vapor's fold,
+ Fade like the roseate flush, the golden glow,
+ When the bright curtain of the day is rolled.
+
+ I was the babe that slumbered on thy breast.
+ --And, sister, mine the lips that called thee bride.
+ --Mine were the silvered locks thy hand caressed,
+ That faithful hand, my faltering footstep's guide!
+
+ Each changing form, frail vesture of decay,
+ The soul unclad forgets it once hath worn,
+ Stained with the travel of the weary day,
+ And shamed with rents from every wayside thorn.
+
+ To lie, an infant, in thy fond embrace,
+ To come with love's warm kisses back to thee,
+ To show thine eyes thy gray-haired father's face,
+ Not Heaven itself could grant; this may not be!
+
+ Then spread your folded wings, and leave to earth
+ The dust once breathing ye have mourned so long,
+ Till Love, new risen, owns his heavenly birth,
+ And sorrow's discords sweeten into song!
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+I am going to take it for granted now and henceforth, in my report of
+what was said and what was to be seen at our table, that I have secured
+one good, faithful, loving reader, who never finds fault, who never gets
+sleepy over my pages, whom no critic can bully out of a liking for me,
+and to whom I am always safe in addressing myself. My one elect may be
+man or woman, old or young, gentle or simple, living in the next block
+or on a slope of Nevada, my fellow-countryman or an alien; but one such
+reader I shall assume to exist and have always in my thought when I am
+writing.
+
+A writer is so like a lover! And a talk with the right listener is so
+like an arm-in-arm walk in the moonlight with the soft heartbeat just
+felt through the folds of muslin and broadcloth! But it takes very
+little to spoil everything for writer, talker, lover. There are a great
+many cruel things besides poverty that freeze the genial current of the
+soul, as the poet of the Elegy calls it. Fire can stand any wind, but is
+easily blown out, and then come smouldering and smoke, and profitless,
+slow combustion without the cheerful blaze which sheds light all
+round it. The one Reader's hand may shelter the flame; the one blessed
+ministering spirit with the vessel of oil may keep it bright in spite of
+the stream of cold water on the other side doing its best to put it out.
+
+I suppose, if any writer, of any distinguishable individuality, could
+look into the hearts of all his readers, he might very probably find one
+in his parish of a thousand or a million who honestly preferred him
+to any other of his kind. I have no doubt we have each one of us,
+somewhere, our exact facsimile, so like us in all things except the
+accidents of condition, that we should love each other like a pair
+of twins, if our natures could once fairly meet. I know I have my
+counterpart in some State of this Union. I feel sure that there is an
+Englishman somewhere precisely like myself. (I hope he does not drop his
+h's, for it does not seem to me possible that the Royal Dane could have
+remained faithful to his love for Ophelia, if she had addressed him as
+'Amlet.) There is also a certain Monsieur, to me at this moment unknown,
+and likewise a Herr Von Something, each of whom is essentially my
+double. An Arab is at this moment eating dates, a mandarin is
+just sipping his tea, and a South-Sea-Islander (with undeveloped
+possibilities) drinking the milk of a cocoa-nut, each one of whom, if
+he had been born in the gambrel-roofed house, and cultivated my little
+sand-patch, and grown up in “the study” from the height of Walton's
+Polyglot Bible to that of the shelf which held the Elzevir Tacitus and
+Casaubon's Polybius, with all the complex influences about him that
+surrounded me, would have been so nearly what I am that I should have
+loved him like a brother,--always provided that I did not hate him for
+his resemblance to me, on the same principle as that which makes bodies
+in the same electric condition repel each other.
+
+For, perhaps after all, my One Reader is quite as likely to be not
+the person most resembling myself, but the one to whom my nature is
+complementary. Just as a particular soil wants some one element
+to fertilize it, just as the body in some conditions has a kind of
+famine--for one special food, so the mind has its wants, which do not
+always call for what is best, but which know themselves and are as
+peremptory as the salt-sick sailor's call for a lemon or a raw potato,
+or, if you will, as those capricious “longings,” which have a certain
+meaning, we may suppose, and which at any rate we think it reasonable to
+satisfy if we can.
+
+I was going to say something about our boarders the other day when I got
+run away with by my local reminiscences. I wish you to understand that
+we have a rather select company at the table of our boarding-house.
+
+Our Landlady is a most respectable person, who has seen better days, of
+course,--all landladies have,--but has also, I feel sure, seen a good
+deal worse ones. For she wears a very handsome silk dress on state
+occasions, with a breastpin set, as I honestly believe, with genuine
+pearls, and appears habitually with a very smart cap, from under which
+her gray curls come out with an unmistakable expression, conveyed in the
+hieratic language of the feminine priesthood, to the effect that while
+there is life there is hope. And when I come to reflect on the many
+circumstances which go to the making of matrimonial happiness, I cannot
+help thinking that a personage of her present able exterior, thoroughly
+experienced in all the domestic arts which render life comfortable,
+might make the later years of some hitherto companionless bachelor very
+endurable, not to say pleasant.
+
+The condition of the Landlady's family is, from what I learn, such as to
+make the connection I have alluded to, I hope with delicacy, desirable
+for incidental as well as direct reasons, provided a fitting match could
+be found. I was startled at hearing her address by the familiar name
+of Benjamin the young physician I have referred to, until I found on
+inquiry, what I might have guessed by the size of his slices of pie and
+other little marks of favoritism, that he was her son. He has recently
+come back from Europe, where he has topped off his home training with
+a first-class foreign finish. As the Landlady could never have educated
+him in this way out of the profits of keeping boarders, I was not
+surprised when I was told that she had received a pretty little property
+in the form of a bequest from a former boarder, a very kind-hearted,
+worthy old gentleman who had been long with her and seen how hard she
+worked for food and clothes for herself and this son of hers, Benjamin
+Franklin by his baptismal name. Her daughter had also married well, to
+a member of what we may call the post-medical profession, that, namely,
+which deals with the mortal frame after the practitioners of the healing
+art have done with it and taken their leave. So thriving had this
+son-in-law of hers been in his business, that his wife drove about in
+her own carriage, drawn by a pair of jet-black horses of most dignified
+demeanor, whose only fault was a tendency to relapse at once into a walk
+after every application of a stimulus that quickened their pace to a
+trot; which application always caused them to look round upon the driver
+with a surprised and offended air, as if he had been guilty of a grave
+indecorum.
+
+The Landlady's daughter had been blessed with a number of children,
+of great sobriety of outward aspect, but remarkably cheerful in their
+inward habit of mind, more especially on the occasion of the death of
+a doll, which was an almost daily occurrence, and gave them immense
+delight in getting up a funeral, for which they had a complete miniature
+outfit. How happy they were under their solemn aspect! For the head
+mourner, a child of remarkable gifts, could actually make the tears
+run down her cheeks,--as real ones as if she had been a grown person
+following a rich relative, who had not forgotten his connections, to his
+last unfurnished lodgings.
+
+So this was a most desirable family connection for the right man to step
+into,--a thriving, thrifty mother-in-law, who knew what was good for the
+sustenance of the body, and had no doubt taught it to her daughter; a
+medical artist at hand in case the luxuries of the table should happen
+to disturb the physiological harmonies; and in the worst event, a
+sweet consciousness that the last sad offices would be attended to with
+affectionate zeal, and probably a large discount from the usual charges.
+
+It seems as if I could hardly be at this table for a year, if I should
+stay so long, without seeing some romance or other work itself out
+under my eyes; and I cannot help thinking that the Landlady is to be
+the heroine of the love-history like to unfold itself. I think I see the
+little cloud in the horizon, with a silvery lining to it, which may end
+in a rain of cards tied round with white ribbons. Extremes meet, and who
+so like to be the other party as the elderly gentleman at the other end
+of the table, as far from her now as the length of the board permits? I
+may be mistaken, but I think this is to be the romantic episode of the
+year before me. Only it seems so natural it is improbable, for you never
+find your dropped money just where you look for it, and so it is with
+these a priori matches.
+
+This gentleman is a tight, tidy, wiry little man, with a small, brisk
+head, close-cropped white hair, a good wholesome complexion, a quiet,
+rather kindly face, quick in his movements, neat in his dress, but fond
+of wearing a short jacket over his coat, which gives him the look of
+a pickled or preserved schoolboy. He has retired, they say, from a
+thriving business, with a snug property, suspected by some to be rather
+more than snug, and entitling him to be called a capitalist, except that
+this word seems to be equivalent to highway robber in the new gospel of
+Saint Petroleum. That he is economical in his habits cannot be denied,
+for he saws and splits his own wood, for exercise, he says,--and makes
+his own fires, brushes his own shoes, and, it is whispered, darns a hole
+in a stocking now and then,--all for exercise, I suppose. Every summer
+he goes out of town for a few weeks. On a given day of the month a wagon
+stops at the door and takes up, not his trunks, for he does not indulge
+in any such extravagance, but the stout brown linen bags in which he
+packs the few conveniences he carries with him.
+
+I do not think this worthy and economical personage will have much to do
+or to say, unless he marries the Landlady. If he does that, he will play
+a part of some importance,--but I don't feel sure at all. His talk is
+little in amount, and generally ends in some compact formula condensing
+much wisdom in few words, as that a man, should not put all his eggs in
+one basket; that there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of
+it; and one in particular, which he surprised me by saying in pretty
+good French one day, to the effect that the inheritance of the world
+belongs to the phlegmatic people, which seems to me to have a good deal
+of truth in it.
+
+The other elderly personage, the old man with iron-gray hair and large
+round spectacles, sits at my right at table. He is a retired college
+officer, a man of books and observation, and himself an author. Magister
+Artium is one of his titles on the College Catalogue, and I like best
+to speak of him as the Master, because he has a certain air of authority
+which none of us feel inclined to dispute. He has given me a copy of a
+work of his which seems to me not wanting in suggestiveness, and which I
+hope I shall be able to make some use of in my records by and by. I said
+the other day that he had good solid prejudices, which is true, and I
+like him none the worse for it; but he has also opinions more or
+less original, valuable, probable, fanciful; fantastic, or whimsical,
+perhaps, now and then; which he promulgates at table somewhat in the
+tone of imperial edicts. Another thing I like about him is, that he
+takes a certain intelligent interest in pretty much everything that
+interests other people. I asked him the other day what he thought most
+about in his wide range of studies.
+
+--Sir,--said he,--I take stock in everything that concerns anybody.
+Humani nihil,--you know the rest. But if you ask me what is my
+specialty, I should say, I applied myself more particularly to the
+contemplation of the Order of Things.
+
+--A pretty wide subject,--I ventured to suggest.
+
+--Not wide enough, sir,--not wide enough to satisfy the desire of a mind
+which wants to get at absolute truth, without reference to the empirical
+arrangements of our particular planet and its environments. I want to
+subject the formal conditions of space and time to a new analysis, and
+project a possible universe outside of the Order of Things. But I have
+narrowed myself by studying the actual facts of being. By and by--by and
+by--perhaps--perhaps. I hope to do some sound thinking in heaven--if
+I ever get there,--he said seriously, and it seemed to me not
+irreverently.
+
+--I rather like that,--I said. I think your telescopic people are, on
+the whole, more satisfactory than your microscopic ones.
+
+--My left-hand neighbor fidgeted about a little in his chair as I said
+this. But the young man sitting not far from the Landlady, to whom my
+attention had been attracted by the expression of his eyes, which seemed
+as if they saw nothing before him, but looked beyond everything, smiled
+a sort of faint starlight smile, that touched me strangely; for until
+that moment he had appeared as if his thoughts were far away, and I
+had been questioning whether he had lost friends lately, or perhaps had
+never had them, he seemed so remote from our boarding-house life. I
+will inquire about him, for he interests me, and I thought he seemed
+interested as I went on talking.
+
+--No,--I continued,--I don't want to have the territory of a man's mind
+fenced in. I don't want to shut out the mystery of the stars and
+the awful hollow that holds them. We have done with those hypaethral
+temples, that were open above to the heavens, but we can have attics and
+skylights to them. Minds with skylights,--yes,--stop, let us see if we
+can't get something out of that.
+
+One-story intellects, two--story intellects, three story intellects with
+skylights. All fact--collectors, who have no aim beyond their facts,
+are one-story men. Two-story men compare, reason, generalize, using
+the labors of the fact-collectors as well as their own. Three-story men
+idealize, imagine, predict; their best illumination comes from above,
+through the skylight. There are minds with large ground floors, that can
+store an infinite amount of knowledge; some librarians, for instance,
+who know enough of books to help other people, without being able to
+make much other use of their knowledge, have intellects of this class.
+Your great working lawyer has two spacious stories; his mind is clear,
+because his mental floors are large, and he has room to arrange his
+thoughts so that he can get at them,--facts below, principles above, and
+all in ordered series; poets are often narrow below, incapable of clear
+statement, and with small power of consecutive reasoning, but full of
+light, if sometimes rather bare of furniture, in the attics.
+
+--The old Master smiled. I think he suspects himself of a three-story
+intellect, and I don't feel sure that he is n't right.
+
+--Is it dark meat or white meat you will be helped to?--said the
+Landlady, addressing the Master.
+
+--Dark meat for me, always,--he answered. Then turning to me, he began
+one of those monologues of his, such as that which put the Member of the
+Haouse asleep the other day.
+
+--It 's pretty much the same in men and women and in books and
+everything, that it is in turkeys and chickens. Why, take your poets,
+now, say Browning and Tennyson. Don't you think you can say which is
+the dark-meat and which is the white-meat poet? And so of the people
+you know; can't you pick out the full-flavored, coarse-fibred characters
+from the delicate, fine-fibred ones? And in the same person, don't you
+know the same two shades in different parts of the character that you
+find in the wing and thigh of a partridge? I suppose you poets may
+like white meat best, very probably; you had rather have a wing than a
+drumstick, I dare say.
+
+--Why, yes,--said I,--I suppose some of us do. Perhaps it is because a
+bird flies with his white-fleshed limbs and walks with the dark-fleshed
+ones. Besides, the wing-muscles are nearer the heart than the
+leg-muscles.
+
+I thought that sounded mighty pretty, and paused a moment to pat myself
+on the back, as is my wont when I say something that I think of superior
+quality. So I lost my innings; for the Master is apt to strike in at the
+end of a bar, instead of waiting for a rest, if I may borrow a musical
+phrase. No matter, just at this moment, what he said; but he talked the
+Member of the Haouse asleep again.
+
+They have a new term nowadays (I am speaking to you, the Reader)
+for people that do a good deal of talking; they call them
+“conversationists,” or “conversationalists “; talkists, I suppose, would
+do just as well. It is rather dangerous to get the name of being one
+of these phenomenal manifestations, as one is expected to say something
+remarkable every time one opens one's mouth in company. It seems hard
+not to be able to ask for a piece of bread or a tumbler of water,
+without a sensation running round the table, as if one were an electric
+eel or a torpedo, and couldn't be touched without giving a shock. A
+fellow is n't all battery, is he? The idea that a Gymnotus can't swallow
+his worm without a coruscation of animal lightning is hard on that
+brilliant but sensational being. Good talk is not a matter of will at
+all; it depends--you know we are all half-materialists nowadays--on a
+certain amount of active congestion of the brain, and that comes when it
+is ready, and not before. I saw a man get up the other day in a pleasant
+company, and talk away for about five minutes, evidently by a pure
+effort of will. His person was good, his voice was pleasant, but anybody
+could see that it was all mechanical labor; he was sparring for wind, as
+the Hon. John Morrissey, M. C., would express himself. Presently,--
+
+Do you,--Beloved, I am afraid you are not old enough,--but do you
+remember the days of the tin tinder-box, the flint, and steel? Click!
+click! click!--Al-h-h! knuckles that time! click! click! CLICK! a spark
+has taken, and is eating into the black tinder, as a six-year-old eats
+into a sheet of gingerbread.
+
+Presently, after hammering away for his five minutes with mere words,
+the spark of a happy expression took somewhere among the mental
+combustibles, and then for ten minutes we had a pretty, wandering,
+scintillating play of eloquent thought, that enlivened, if it did not
+kindle, all around it. If you want the real philosophy of it, I will
+give it to you. The chance thought or expression struck the nervous
+centre of consciousness, as the rowel of a spur stings the flank of a
+racer. Away through all the telegraphic radiations of the nervous cords
+flashed the intelligence that the brain was kindling, and must be fed
+with something or other, or it would burn itself to ashes.
+
+And all the great hydraulic engines poured in their scarlet blood, and
+the fire kindled, and the flame rose; for the blood is a stream that,
+like burning rock-oil, at once kindles, and is itself the fuel. You
+can't order these organic processes, any more than a milliner can make
+a rose. She can make something that looks like a rose, more or less,
+but it takes all the forces of the universe to finish and sweeten that
+blossom in your button-hole; and you may be sure that when the orator's
+brain is in a flame, when the poet's heart is in a tumult, it is
+something mightier than he and his will that is dealing with him! As
+I have looked from one of the northern windows of the street which
+commands our noble estuary,--the view through which is a picture on an
+illimitable canvas and a poem in innumerable cantos,--I have sometimes
+seen a pleasure-boat drifting along, her sail flapping, and she seeming
+as if she had neither will nor aim. At her stern a man was laboring to
+bring her head round with an oar, to little purpose, as it seemed to
+those who watched him pulling and tugging. But all at once the wind of
+heaven, which had wandered all the way from Florida or from Labrador,
+it may be, struck full upon the sail, and it swelled and rounded itself,
+like a white bosom that had burst its bodice, and--
+
+--You are right; it is too true! but how I love these pretty phrases! I
+am afraid I am becoming an epicure in words, which is a bad thing to be,
+unless it is dominated by something infinitely better than itself.
+But there is a fascination in the mere sound of articulated breath; of
+consonants that resist with the firmness of a maid of honor, or half or
+wholly yield to the wooing lips; of vowels that flow and murmur, each
+after its kind; the peremptory b and p, the brittle k, the vibrating r,
+the insinuating s, the feathery f, the velvety v, the bell-voiced m, the
+tranquil broad a, the penetrating e, the cooing u, the emotional o, and
+the beautiful combinations of alternate rock and stream, as it were,
+that they give to the rippling flow of speech,--there is a fascination
+in the skilful handling of these, which the great poets and even
+prose-writers have not disdained to acknowledge and use to recommend
+their thought. What do you say to this line of Homer as a piece of
+poetical full-band music? I know you read the Greek characters with
+perfect ease, but permit me, just for my own satisfaction, to put it
+into English letters:--
+
+ Aigle pamphanoosa di' aitheros ouranon ike!
+
+as if he should have spoken in our poorer phrase of
+
+ Splendor far shining through ether to heaven ascending.
+
+That Greek line, which I do not remember having heard mention of
+as remarkable, has nearly every consonantal and vowel sound in the
+language. Try it by the Greek and by the English alphabet; it is a
+curiosity. Tell me that old Homer did not roll his sightless eyeballs
+about with delight, as he thundered out these ringing syllables! It
+seems hard to think of his going round like a hand-organ man, with such
+music and such thought as his to earn his bread with. One can't help
+wishing that Mr. Pugh could have got at him for a single lecture, at
+least, of the “Star Course,” or that he could have appeared in the Music
+Hall, “for this night only.”
+
+--I know I have rambled, but I hope you see that this is a delicate way
+of letting you into the nature of the individual who is, officially,
+the principal personage at our table. It would hardly do to describe
+him directly, you know. But you must not think, because the lightning
+zigzags, it does not know where to strike.
+
+I shall try to go through the rest of my description of our boarders
+with as little of digression as is consistent with my nature. I think
+we have a somewhat exceptional company. Since our Landlady has got up in
+the world, her board has been decidedly a favorite with persons a little
+above the average in point of intelligence and education. In fact,
+ever since a boarder of hers, not wholly unknown to the reading public,
+brought her establishment into notice, it has attracted a considerable
+number of literary and scientific people, and now and then a politician,
+like the Member of the House of Representatives, otherwise called the
+Great and General Court of the State of Massachusetts. The consequence
+is, that there is more individuality of character than in a good many
+similar boardinghouses, where all are business-men, engrossed in the
+same pursuit of money-making, or all are engaged in politics, and so
+deeply occupied with the welfare of the community that they can think
+and talk of little else.
+
+At my left hand sits as singular-looking a human being as I remember
+seeing outside of a regular museum or tent-show. His black coat shines
+as if it had been polished; and it has been polished on the wearer's
+back, no doubt, for the arms and other points of maximum attrition are
+particularly smooth and bright. Round shoulders,--stooping over
+some minute labor, I suppose. Very slender limbs, with bends like
+a grasshopper's; sits a great deal, I presume; looks as if he might
+straighten them out all of a sudden, and jump instead of walking. Wears
+goggles very commonly; says it rests his eyes, which he strains in
+looking at very small objects. Voice has a dry creak, as if made by
+some small piece of mechanism that wanted oiling. I don't think he is
+a botanist, for he does not smell of dried herbs, but carries a
+camphorated atmosphere about with him, as if to keep the moths from
+attacking him. I must find out what is his particular interest. One
+ought to know something about his immediate neighbors at the table.
+This is what I said to myself, before opening a conversation with him.
+Everybody in our ward of the city was in a great stir about a certain
+election, and I thought I might as well begin with that as anything.
+
+--How do you think the vote is likely to go tomorrow?--I said.
+
+--It isn't to-morrow,--he answered,--it 's next month.
+
+--Next month!--said I.--Why, what election do you mean?
+
+--I mean the election to the Presidency of the Entomological Society,
+sir,--he creaked, with an air of surprise, as if nobody could by any
+possibility have been thinking of any other. Great competition, sir,
+between the dipterists and the lepidopterists as to which shall get
+in their candidate. Several close ballotings already; adjourned for a
+fortnight. Poor concerns, both of 'em. Wait till our turn comes.
+
+--I suppose you are an entomologist?--I said with a note of
+interrogation.
+
+-Not quite so ambitious as that, sir. I should like to put my eyes
+on the individual entitled to that name! A society may call itself an
+Entomological Society, but the man who arrogates such a broad title as
+that to himself, in the present state of science, is a pretender, sir,
+a dilettante, an impostor! No man can be truly called an entomologist,
+sir; the subject is too vast for any single human intelligence to grasp.
+
+--May I venture to ask,--I said, a little awed by his statement and
+manner,--what is your special province of study?
+
+I am often spoken of as a Coleopterist,--he said,--but I have no right
+to so comprehensive a name. The genus Scarabaeus is what I have chiefly
+confined myself to, and ought to have studied exclusively. The beetles
+proper are quite enough for the labor of one man's life. Call me a
+Scarabaeist if you will; if I can prove myself worthy of that name, my
+highest ambition will be more than satisfied.
+
+I think, by way of compromise and convenience, I shall call him the
+Scarabee. He has come to look wonderfully like those creatures,--the
+beetles, I mean,--by being so much among them. His room is hung round
+with cases of them, each impaled on a pin driven through him, something
+as they used to bury suicides. These cases take the place for him
+of pictures and all other ornaments. That Boy steals into his room
+sometimes, and stares at them with great admiration, and has himself
+undertaken to form a rival cabinet, chiefly consisting of flies, so far,
+arranged in ranks superintended by an occasional spider.
+
+The old Master, who is a bachelor, has a kindly feeling for this little
+monkey, and those of his kind.
+
+--I like children,--he said to me one day at table,--I like 'em, and I
+respect 'em. Pretty much all the honest truth-telling there is in the
+world is done by them. Do you know they play the part in the household
+which the king's jester, who very often had a mighty long head under his
+cap and bells, used to play for a monarch? There 's no radical club
+like a nest of little folks in a nursery. Did you ever watch a baby's
+fingers? I have, often enough, though I never knew what it was to own
+one.--The Master paused half a minute or so,--sighed,--perhaps at
+thinking what he had missed in life,--looked up at me a little vacantly.
+I saw what was the matter; he had lost the thread of his talk.
+
+--Baby's fingers,--I intercalated.
+
+-Yes, yes; did you ever see how they will poke those wonderful little
+fingers of theirs into every fold and crack and crevice they can get at?
+That is their first education, feeling their way into the solid facts
+of the material world. When they begin to talk it is the same thing over
+again in another shape. If there is a crack or a flaw in your answer
+to their confounded shoulder-hitting questions, they will poke and poke
+until they have got it gaping just as the baby's fingers have made a
+rent out of that atom of a hole in his pinafore that your old eyes never
+took notice of. Then they make such fools of us by copying on a small
+scale what we do in the grand manner. I wonder if it ever occurs to our
+dried-up neighbor there to ask himself whether That Boy's collection
+of flies is n't about as significant in the Order of Things as his own
+Museum of Beetles?
+
+--I couldn't help thinking that perhaps That Boy's questions about the
+simpler mysteries of life might have a good deal of the same kind of
+significance as the Master's inquiries into the Order of Things.
+
+--On my left, beyond my next neighbor the Scarabee, at the end of the
+table, sits a person of whom we know little, except that he carries
+about him more palpable reminiscences of tobacco and the allied sources
+of comfort than a very sensitive organization might find acceptable.
+The Master does not seem to like him much, for some reason or
+other,--perhaps he has a special aversion to the odor of tobacco. As
+his forefinger shows a little too distinctly that he uses a pen, I shall
+compliment him by calling him the Man of Letters, until I find out more
+about him.
+
+--The Young Girl who sits on my right, next beyond the Master, can
+hardly be more than nineteen or twenty years old. I wish I could paint
+her so as to interest others as much as she does me. But she has not a
+profusion of sunny tresses wreathing a neck of alabaster, and a cheek
+where the rose and the lily are trying to settle their old quarrel with
+alternating victory. Her hair is brown, her cheek is delicately pallid,
+her forehead is too ample for a ball-room beauty's. A single faint line
+between the eyebrows is the record of long--continued anxious efforts to
+please in the task she has chosen, or rather which has been forced upon
+her. It is the same line of anxious and conscientious effort which I saw
+not long since on the forehead of one of the sweetest and truest singers
+who has visited us; the same which is so striking on the masks of
+singing women painted upon the facade of our Great Organ,--that
+Himalayan home of harmony which you are to see and then die, if you
+don't live where you can see and hear it often. Many deaths have
+happened in a neighboring large city from that well-known complaint,
+Icterus Invidiosorum, after returning from a visit to the Music Hall.
+The invariable symptom of a fatal attack is the Risus Sardonicus.--But
+the Young Girl. She gets her living by writing stories for a newspaper.
+Every week she furnishes a new story. If her head aches or her heart
+is heavy, so that she does not come to time with her story, she falls
+behindhand and has to live on credit. It sounds well enough to say
+that “she supports herself by her pen,” but her lot is a trying one; it
+repeats the doom of the Danaides. The “Weekly Bucket” has no bottom, and
+it is her business to help fill it. Imagine for one moment what it is
+to tell a tale that must flow on, flow ever, without pausing; the lover
+miserable and happy this week, to begin miserable again next week and
+end as before; the villain scowling, plotting, punished; to scowl,
+plot, and get punished again in our next; an endless series of woes and
+busses, into each paragraph of which the forlorn artist has to throw all
+the liveliness, all the emotion, all the graces of style she is mistress
+of, for the wages of a maid of all work, and no more recognition or
+thanks from anybody than the apprentice who sets the types for the paper
+that prints her ever-ending and ever-beginning stories. And yet she has
+a pretty talent, sensibility, a natural way of writing, an ear for
+the music of verse, in which she sometimes indulges to vary the dead
+monotony of everlasting narrative, and a sufficient amount of invention
+to make her stories readable. I have found my eyes dimmed over them
+oftener than once, more with thinking about her, perhaps, than about
+her heroes and heroines. Poor little body! Poor little mind! Poor
+little soul! She is one of that great company of delicate, intelligent,
+emotional young creatures, who are waiting, like that sail I spoke of,
+for some breath of heaven to fill their white bosoms,--love, the
+right of every woman; religious emotion, sister of love, with the same
+passionate eyes, but cold, thin, bloodless hands,--some enthusiasm of
+humanity or divinity; and find that life offers them, instead, a seat
+on a wooden bench, a chain to fasten them to it, and a heavy oar to pull
+day and night. We read the Arabian tales and pity the doomed lady who
+must amuse her lord and master from day to day or have her head cut off;
+how much better is a mouth without bread to fill it than no mouth at all
+to fill, because no head? We have all round us a weary-eyed company of
+Scheherezades! This is one of them, and I may call her by that name when
+it pleases me to do so.
+
+The next boarder I have to mention is the one who sits between the Young
+Girl and the Landlady. In a little chamber into which a small thread of
+sunshine finds its way for half an hour or so every day during a month
+or six weeks of the spring or autumn, at all other times obliged to
+content itself with ungilded daylight, lives this boarder, whom, without
+wronging any others of our company, I may call, as she is very generally
+called in the household, The Lady. In giving her this name it is not
+meant that there are no other ladies at our table, or that the handmaids
+who serve us are not ladies, or to deny the general proposition that
+everybody who wears the unbifurcated garment is entitled to that
+appellation. Only this lady has a look and manner which there is no
+mistaking as belonging to a person always accustomed to refined and
+elegant society. Her style is perhaps a little more courtly and gracious
+than some would like. The language and manner which betray the habitual
+desire of pleasing, and which add a charm to intercourse in the higher
+social circles, are liable to be construed by sensitive beings unused to
+such amenities as an odious condescension when addressed to persons of
+less consideration than the accused, and as a still more odious--you
+know the word--when directed to those who are esteemed by the world as
+considerable person ages. But of all this the accused are fortunately
+wholly unconscious, for there is nothing so entirely natural and
+unaffected as the highest breeding.
+
+From an aspect of dignified but undisguised economy which showed itself
+in her dress as well as in her limited quarters, I suspected a story
+of shipwrecked fortune, and determined to question our Landlady. That
+worthy woman was delighted to tell the history of her most distinguished
+boarder. She was, as I had supposed, a gentlewoman whom a change of
+circumstances had brought down from her high estate.
+
+--Did I know the Goldenrod family?--Of course I did.--Well, the Lady,
+was first cousin to Mrs. Midas Goldenrod. She had been here in her
+carriage to call upon her,--not very often.--Were her rich relations
+kind and helpful to her?--Well, yes; at least they made her presents
+now and then. Three or four years ago they sent her a silver waiter, and
+every Christmas they sent her a boquet,--it must cost as much as five
+dollars, the Landlady thought.
+
+--And how did the Lady receive these valuable and useful gifts?
+
+--Every Christmas she got out the silver waiter and borrowed a glass
+tumbler and filled it with water, and put the boquet in it and set it
+on the waiter. It smelt sweet enough and looked pretty for a day or
+two, but the Landlady thought it wouldn't have hurt 'em if they'd sent a
+piece of goods for a dress, or at least a pocket-handkercher or two,
+or something or other that she could 'a' made some kind of use of;
+but beggars must n't be choosers; not that she was a beggar, for she'd
+sooner die than do that if she was in want of a meal of victuals. There
+was a lady I remember, and she had a little boy and she was a widow,
+and after she'd buried her husband she was dreadful poor, and she was
+ashamed to let her little boy go out in his old shoes, and copper-toed
+shoes they was too, because his poor little ten--toes--was a coming out
+of 'em; and what do you think my husband's rich uncle,--well, there
+now, it was me and my little Benjamin, as he was then, there's no use
+in hiding of it,--and what do you think my husband's uncle sent me but a
+plaster of Paris image of a young woman, that was,--well, her appearance
+wasn't respectable, and I had to take and wrap her up in a towel and
+poke her right into my closet, and there she stayed till she got her
+head broke and served her right, for she was n't fit to show folks.
+You need n't say anything about what I told you, but the fact is I was
+desperate poor before I began to support myself taking boarders, and a
+lone woman without her--her--
+
+The sentence plunged into the gulf of her great remembered sorrow, and
+was lost to the records of humanity.
+
+--Presently she continued in answer to my questions: The Lady was not
+very sociable; kept mostly to herself. The Young Girl (our Scheherezade)
+used to visit her sometimes, and they seemed to like each other, but the
+Young Girl had not many spare hours for visiting. The Lady never found
+fault, but she was very nice in her tastes, and kept everything about
+her looking as neat and pleasant as she could.
+
+--What did she do?--Why, she read, and she drew pictures, and she did
+needlework patterns, and played on an old harp she had; the gilt was
+mostly off, but it sounded very sweet, and she sung to it sometimes,
+those old songs that used to be in fashion twenty or thirty years ago,
+with words to 'em that folks could understand.
+
+Did she do anything to help support herself?--The Landlady couldn't say
+she did, but she thought there was rich people enough that ought to buy
+the flowers and things she worked and painted.
+
+All this points to the fact that she was bred to be an ornamental rather
+than what is called a useful member of society. This is all very well
+so long as fortune favors those who are chosen to be the ornamental
+personages; but if the golden tide recedes and leaves them stranded,
+they are more to be pitied than almost any other class. “I cannot dig,
+to beg I am ashamed.”
+
+I think it is unpopular in this country to talk much about gentlemen and
+gentlewomen. People are touchy about social distinctions, which no doubt
+are often invidious and quite arbitrary and accidental, but which it
+is impossible to avoid recognizing as facts of natural history. Society
+stratifies itself everywhere, and the stratum which is generally
+recognized as the uppermost will be apt to have the advantage in easy
+grace of manner and in unassuming confidence, and consequently be
+more agreeable in the superficial relations of life. To compare these
+advantages with the virtues and utilities would be foolish. Much of the
+noblest work in life is done by ill-dressed, awkward, ungainly persons;
+but that is no more reason for undervaluing good manners and what we
+call high-breeding, than the fact that the best part of the sturdy labor
+of the world is done by men with exceptionable hands is to be urged
+against the use of Brown Windsor as a preliminary to appearance in
+cultivated society.
+
+I mean to stand up for this poor lady, whose usefulness in the world
+is apparently problematical. She seems to me like a picture which has
+fallen from its gilded frame and lies, face downward, on the dusty
+floor. The picture never was as needful as a window or a door, but it
+was pleasant to see it in its place, and it would be pleasant to see
+it there again, and I, for one, should be thankful to have the Lady
+restored by some turn of fortune to the position from which she has been
+so cruelly cast down.
+
+--I have asked the Landlady about the young man sitting near her, the
+same who attracted my attention the other day while I was talking, as
+I mentioned. He passes most of his time in a private observatory, it
+appears; a watcher of the stars. That I suppose gives the peculiar look
+to his lustrous eyes. The Master knows him and was pleased to tell me
+something about him.
+
+You call yourself a Poet,--he said,--and we call you so, too, and so
+you are; I read your verses and like 'em. But that young man lives in a
+world beyond the imagination of poets, let me tell you. The daily
+home of his thought is in illimitable space, hovering between the two
+eternities. In his contemplations the divisions of time run together,
+as in the thought of his Maker. With him also,--I say it not
+profanely,--one day is as a thousand years and a thousand years as one
+day.
+
+This account of his occupation increased the interest his look had
+excited in me, and I have observed him more particularly and found out
+more about him. Sometimes, after a long night's watching, he looks so
+pale and worn, that one would think the cold moonlight had stricken him
+with some malign effluence such as it is fabled to send upon those who
+sleep in it. At such times he seems more like one who has come from a
+planet farther away from the sun than our earth, than like one of
+us terrestrial creatures. His home is truly in the heavens, and he
+practises an asceticism in the cause of science almost comparable to
+that of Saint Simeon Stylites. Yet they tell me he might live in luxury
+if he spent on himself what he spends on science. His knowledge is
+of that strange, remote character, that it seems sometimes almost
+superhuman. He knows the ridges and chasms of the moon as a surveyor
+knows a garden-plot he has measured. He watches the snows that gather
+around the poles of Mars; he is on the lookout for the expected comet at
+the moment when its faint stain of diffused light first shows itself; he
+analyzes the ray that comes from the sun's photosphere; he measures the
+rings of Saturn; he counts his asteroids to see that none are missing,
+as the shepherd counts the sheep in his flock. A strange unearthly
+being; lonely, dwelling far apart from the thoughts and cares of
+the planet on which he lives,--an enthusiast who gives his life to
+knowledge; a student of antiquity, to whom the records of the geologist
+are modern pages in the great volume of being, and the pyramids a
+memorandum of yesterday, as the eclipse or occultation that is to take
+place thousands of years hence is an event of to-morrow in the diary
+without beginning and without end where he enters the aspect of the
+passing moment as it is read on the celestial dial.
+
+In very marked contrast with this young man is the something more than
+middle-aged Register of Deeds, a rusty, sallow, smoke-dried looking
+personage, who belongs to this earth as exclusively as the other
+belongs to the firmament. His movements are as mechanical as those of
+a pendulum,--to the office, where he changes his coat and plunges into
+messuages and building-lots; then, after changing his coat again, back
+to our table, and so, day by day, the dust of years gradually gathering
+around him as it does on the old folios that fill the shelves all round
+the great cemetery of past transactions of which he is the sexton.
+
+Of the Salesman who sits next him, nothing need be said except that he
+is good-looking, rosy, well-dressed, and of very polite manners, only a
+little more brisk than the approved style of carriage permits, as one
+in the habit of springing with a certain alacrity at the call of a
+customer.
+
+You would like to see, I don't doubt, how we sit at the table, and I
+will help you by means of a diagram which shows the present arrangement
+of our seats.
+
+ 4 3 2 1 14 13
+ ---------------------------------
+ | O O O O O O |
+ | |
+ 5 | O Breakfast-Table O |12
+ | |
+ | O O O O O O |
+ ---------------------------------
+ 6 7 8 9 10 11
+
+ 1. The Poet.
+ 2. The Master Of Arts.
+ 3. The Young Girl (Scheherezade).
+ 4. The Lady.
+ 5. The Landlady.
+ 6. Dr. B. Franklin.
+ 7. That Boy.
+ 8. The Astronomer.
+ 9. The Member of the Haouse.
+ 10. The Register of Deeds.
+ 11. The Salesman.
+ 12. The Capitalist.
+ 13. The Man of Letters(?).
+ 14. The Scarabee.
+
+Our young Scheherezade varies her prose stories now and then, as I told
+you, with compositions in verse, one or two of which she has let me look
+over. Here is one of them, which she allowed me to copy. It is from a
+story of hers, “The Sun-Worshipper's Daughter,” which you may find in
+the periodical before mentioned, to which she is a contributor, if your
+can lay your hand upon a file of it. I think our Scheherezade has never
+had a lover in human shape, or she would not play so lightly with the
+firebrands of the great passion.
+
+ FANTASIA.
+
+ Kiss mine eyelids, beauteous Morn,
+ Blushing into life new-born!
+ Lend me violets for my hair,
+ And thy russet robe to wear,
+ And thy ring of rosiest hue
+ Set in drops of diamond dew!
+
+ Kiss my cheek, thou noontide ray,
+ From my Love so far away!
+ Let thy splendor streaming down
+ Turn its pallid lilies brown,
+ Till its darkening shades reveal
+ Where his passion pressed its seal!
+
+ Kiss my lips, thou Lord of light,
+ Kiss my lips a soft good night!
+ Westward sinks thy golden car;
+ Leave me but the evening star,
+ And my solace that shall be,
+ Borrowing all its light from thee!
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+The old Master was talking about a concert he had been to hear.--I don't
+like your chopped music anyway. That woman--she had more sense in her
+little finger than forty medical societies--Florence Nightingale--says
+that the music you pour out is good for sick folks, and the music you
+pound out isn't. Not that exactly, but something like it. I have been
+to hear some music-pounding. It was a young woman, with as many white
+muslin flounces round her as the planet Saturn has rings, that did it.
+She--gave the music-stool a twirl or two and fluffed down on to it like
+a whirl of soap-suds in a hand-basin. Then she pushed up her cuffs as
+if she was going to fight for the champion's belt. Then she worked
+her wrists and her hands, to limber 'em, I suppose, and spread out her
+fingers till they looked as though they would pretty much cover the
+key-board, from the growling end to the little squeaky one. Then those
+two hands of hers made a jump at the keys as if they were a couple of
+tigers coming down on a flock of black and white sheep, and the piano
+gave a great howl as if its tail had been trod on. Dead stop,--so still
+you could hear your hair growing. Then another jump, and another howl,
+as if the piano had two tails and you had trod on both of 'em at once,
+and, then a grand clatter and scramble and string of jumps, up and down,
+back and forward, one hand over the other, like a stampede of rats and
+mice more than like anything I call music. I like to hear a woman sing,
+and I like to hear a fiddle sing, but these noises they hammer out of
+their wood and ivory anvils--don't talk to me, I know the difference
+between a bullfrog and a woodthrush and--
+
+Pop! went a small piece of artillery such as is made of a stick of elder
+and carries a pellet of very moderate consistency. That Boy was in his
+seat and looking demure enough, but there could be no question that he
+was the artillery-man who had discharged the missile. The aim was not a
+bad one, for it took the Master full in the forehead, and had the effect
+of checking the flow of his eloquence. How the little monkey had learned
+to time his interruptions I do not know, but I have observed more than
+once before this, that the popgun would go off just at the moment when
+some one of the company was getting too energetic or prolix. The Boy
+isn't old enough to judge for himself when to intervene to change the
+order of conversation; no, of course he isn't. Somebody must give him
+a hint. Somebody.--Who is it? I suspect Dr. B. Franklin. He looks too
+knowing. There is certainly a trick somewhere. Why, a day or two ago I
+was myself discoursing, with considerable effect, as I thought, on some
+of the new aspects of humanity, when I was struck full on the cheek by
+one of these little pellets, and there was such a confounded laugh that
+I had to wind up and leave off with a preposition instead of a good
+mouthful of polysyllables. I have watched our young Doctor, however, and
+have been entirely unable to detect any signs of communication between
+him and this audacious child, who is like to become a power among us,
+for that popgun is fatal to any talker who is hit by its pellet. I have
+suspected a foot under the table as the prompter, but I have been unable
+to detect the slightest movement or look as if he were making one,
+on the part of Dr. Benjamin Franklin. I cannot help thinking of the
+flappers in Swift's Laputa, only they gave one a hint when to speak and
+another a hint to listen, whereas the popgun says unmistakably, “Shut
+up!”
+
+--I should be sorry to lose my confidence in Dr. B. Franklin, who seems
+very much devoted to his business, and whom I mean to consult about
+some small symptoms I have had lately. Perhaps it is coming to a new
+boarding-house. The young people who come into Paris from the provinces
+are very apt--so I have been told by one that knows--to have an attack
+of typhoid fever a few weeks or months after their arrival. I have not
+been long enough at this table to get well acclimated; perhaps that is
+it. Boarding-House Fever. Something like horse-ail, very likely,--horses
+get it, you know, when they are brought to city stables. A little “off
+my feed,” as Hiram Woodruff would say. A queer discoloration about my
+forehead. Query, a bump? Cannot remember any. Might have got it against
+bedpost or something while asleep. Very unpleasant to look so. I wonder
+how my portrait would look, if anybody should take it now! I hope not
+quite so badly as one I saw the other day, which I took for the end man
+of the Ethiopian Serenaders, or some traveller who had been exploring
+the sources of the Niger, until I read the name at the bottom and found
+it was a face I knew as well as my own.
+
+I must consult somebody, and it is nothing more than fair to give our
+young Doctor a chance. Here goes for Dr. Benjamin Franklin.
+
+The young Doctor has a very small office and a very large sign, with a
+transparency at night big enough for an oyster-shop. These young
+doctors are particularly strong, as I understand, on what they call
+diagnosis,--an excellent branch of the healing art, full of satisfaction
+to the curious practitioner, who likes to give the right Latin name to
+one's complaint; not quite so satisfactory to the patient, as it is not
+so very much pleasanter to be bitten by a dog with a collar round his
+neck telling you that he is called Snap or Teaser, than by a dog without
+a collar. Sometimes, in fact, one would a little rather not know the
+exact name of his complaint, as if he does he is pretty sure to look it
+out in a medical dictionary, and then if he reads, This terrible disease
+is attended with vast suffering and is inevitably mortal, or any such
+statement, it is apt to affect him unpleasantly.
+
+I confess to a little shakiness when I knocked at Dr. Benjamin's office
+door. “Come in!” exclaimed Dr. B. F. in tones that sounded ominous and
+sepulchral. And I went in.
+
+I don't believe the chambers of the Inquisition ever presented a more
+alarming array of implements for extracting a confession, than our young
+Doctor's office did of instruments to make nature tell what was the
+matter with a poor body.
+
+There were Ophthalmoscopes and Rhinoscopes and Otoscopes and
+Laryngoscopes and Stethoscopes; and Thermometers and Spirometers and
+Dynamometers and Sphygmometers and Pleximeters; and Probes and Probangs
+and all sorts of frightful inquisitive exploring contrivances;
+and scales to weigh you in, and tests and balances and pumps and
+electro-magnets and magneto-electric machines; in short, apparatus for
+doing everything but turn you inside out.
+
+Dr. Benjamin set me down before his one window and began looking at me
+with such a superhuman air of sagacity, that I felt like one of those
+open-breasted clocks which make no secret of their inside arrangements,
+and almost thought he could see through me as one sees through a shrimp
+or a jelly-fish. First he looked at the place inculpated, which had a
+sort of greenish-brown color, with his naked eyes, with much corrugation
+of forehead and fearful concentration of attention; then through
+a pocket-glass which he carried. Then he drew back a space, for a
+perspective view. Then he made me put out my tongue and laid a slip of
+blue paper on it, which turned red and scared me a little. Next he took
+my wrist; but instead of counting my pulse in the old-fashioned way,
+he fastened a machine to it that marked all the beats on a sheet of
+paper,--for all the world like a scale of the heights of mountains, say
+from Mount Tom up to Chimborazo and then down again, and up again, and
+so on. In the mean time he asked me all sorts of questions about myself
+and all my relatives, whether we had been subject to this and that
+malady, until I felt as if we must some of us have had more or less of
+them, and could not feel quite sure whether Elephantiasis and Beriberi
+and Progressive Locomotor Ataxy did not run in the family.
+
+After all this overhauling of myself and my history, he paused and
+looked puzzled. Something was suggested about what he called an
+“exploratory puncture.” This I at once declined, with thanks. Suddenly a
+thought struck him. He looked still more closely at the discoloration I
+have spoken of.
+
+--Looks like--I declare it reminds me of--very rare! very curious! It
+would be strange if my first case--of this kind--should be one of our
+boarders!
+
+What kind of a case do you call it?--I said, with a sort of feeling that
+he could inflict a severe or a light malady on me, as if he were a judge
+passing sentence.
+
+--The color reminds me,--said Dr. B. Franklin,--of what I have seen in a
+case of Addison's Disease, Morbus Addisonii.
+
+--But my habits are quite regular,--I said; for I remembered that the
+distinguished essayist was too fond of his brandy and water, and
+I confess that the thought was not pleasant to me of following Dr.
+Johnson's advice, with the slight variation of giving my days and my
+nights to trying on the favorite maladies of Addison.
+
+--Temperance people are subject to it!--exclaimed Dr. Benjamin, almost
+exultingly, I thought.
+
+--But I had the impression that the author of the Spectator was
+afflicted with a dropsy, or some such inflated malady, to which persons
+of sedentary and bibacious habits are liable. [A literary swell,--I
+thought to myself, but I did not say it. I felt too serious.]
+
+--The author of the Spectator!--cried out Dr. Benjamin,--I mean the
+celebrated Dr. Addison, inventor, I would say discoverer, of the
+wonderful new disease called after him.
+
+--And what may this valuable invention or discovery consist in?--I
+asked, for I was curious to know the nature of the gift which this
+benefactor of the race had bestowed upon us.
+
+--A most interesting affection, and rare, too. Allow me to look closely
+at that discoloration once more for a moment. Cutis cenea, bronze skin,
+they call it sometimes--extraordinary pigmentation--a little more to
+the light, if you please--ah! now I get the bronze coloring admirably,
+beautifully! Would you have any objection to showing your case to the
+Societies of Medical Improvement and Medical Observation?
+
+[--My case! O dear!] May I ask if any vital organ is commonly involved
+in this interesting complaint?--I said, faintly.
+
+--Well, sir,--the young Doctor replied,--there is an organ which is
+--sometimes--a little touched, I may say; a very curious and ingenious
+little organ or pair of organs. Did you ever hear of the Capsulae,
+Suprarenales?
+
+--No,--said I,--is it a mortal complaint?--I ought to have known better
+than to ask such a question, but I was getting nervous and thinking
+about all sorts of horrid maladies people are liable to, with horrid
+names to match.
+
+--It is n't a complaint,--I mean they are not a complaint,--they are two
+small organs, as I said, inside of you, and nobody knows what is the use
+of them. The most curious thing is that when anything is the matter with
+them you turn of the color of bronze. After all, I didn't mean to say I
+believed it was Morbus Addisonii; I only thought of that when I saw the
+discoloration.
+
+So he gave me a recipe, which I took care to put where it could do no
+hurt to anybody, and I paid him his fee (which he took with the air of a
+man in the receipt of a great income) and said Good-morning.
+
+--What in the name of a thousand diablos is the reason these confounded
+doctors will mention their guesses about “a case,” as they call it, and
+all its conceivable possibilities, out loud before their patients? I
+don't suppose there is anything in all this nonsense about “Addison's
+Disease,” but I wish he hadn't spoken of that very interesting ailment,
+and I should feel a little easier if that discoloration would leave my
+forehead. I will ask the Landlady about it,--these old women often
+know more than the young doctors just come home with long names for
+everything they don't know how to cure. But the name of this complaint
+sets me thinking. Bronzed skin! What an odd idea! Wonder if it spreads
+all over one. That would be picturesque and pleasant, now, wouldn't it?
+To be made a living statue of,--nothing to do but strike an attitude.
+Arm up--so--like the one in the Garden. John of Bologna's Mercury--thus
+on one foot. Needy knife-grinder in the Tribune at Florence. No, not
+“needy,” come to think of it. Marcus Aurelius on horseback. Query. Are
+horses subject to the Morbus Addisonii? Advertise for a bronzed living
+horse--Lyceum invitations and engagements--bronze versus brass.--What
+'s the use in being frightened? Bet it was a bump. Pretty certain I
+bumped my forehead against something. Never heard of a bronzed man
+before. Have seen white men, black men, red men, yellow men, two or
+three blue men, stained with doctor's stuff; some green ones, from the
+country; but never a bronzed man. Poh, poh! Sure it was a bump. Ask
+Landlady to look at it.
+
+--Landlady did look at it. Said it was a bump, and no mistake.
+Recommended a piece of brown paper dipped in vinegar. Made the house
+smell as if it were in quarantine for the plague from Smyrna, but
+discoloration soon disappeared,--so I did not become a bronzed man after
+all,--hope I never shall while I am alive. Should n't mind being done
+in bronze after I was dead. On second thoughts not so clear about it,
+remembering how some of them look that we have got stuck up in public;
+think I had rather go down to posterity in an Ethiopian Minstrel
+portrait, like our friend's the other day.
+
+--You were kind enough to say, I remarked to the Master, that you read
+my poems and liked them. Perhaps you would be good enough to tell me
+what it is you like about them?
+
+The Master harpooned a breakfast-roll and held it up before me.--Will
+you tell me,--he said,--why you like that breakfast-roll?--I suppose he
+thought that would stop my mouth in two senses. But he was mistaken.
+
+--To be sure I will,--said I.--First, I like its mechanical
+consistency; brittle externally,--that is for the teeth, which want
+resistance to be overcome; soft, spongy, well tempered and flavored
+internally, that is for the organ of taste; wholesome, nutritious,--that
+is for the internal surfaces and the system generally.
+
+--Good,--said the Master, and laughed a hearty terrestrial laugh.
+
+I hope he will carry that faculty of an honest laugh with him wherever
+he goes,--why shouldn't he? The “order of things,” as he calls it, from
+which hilarity was excluded, would be crippled and one-sided enough. I
+don't believe the human gamut will be cheated of a single note after
+men have done breathing this fatal atmospheric mixture and die into the
+ether of immortality!
+
+I did n't say all that; if I had said it, it would have brought a pellet
+from the popgun, I feel quite certain.
+
+The Master went on after he had had out his laugh.--There is one thing
+I am His Imperial Majesty about, and that is my likes and dislikes.
+What if I do like your verses,--you can't help yourself. I don't doubt
+somebody or other hates 'em and hates you and everything you do, or ever
+did, or ever can do. He is all right; there is nothing you or I like
+that somebody does n't hate. Was there ever anything wholesome that was
+not poison to somebody? If you hate honey or cheese, or the products
+of the dairy,--I know a family a good many of whose members can't touch
+milk, butter, cheese, and the like, why, say so, but don't find fault
+with the bees and the cows. Some are afraid of roses, and I have known
+those who thought a pond-lily a disagreeable neighbor. That Boy will
+give you the metaphysics of likes and dislikes. Look here,--you young
+philosopher over there,--do you like candy?
+
+That Boy.--You bet! Give me a stick and see if I don't.
+
+And can you tell me why you like candy?
+
+That Boy.--Because I do.
+
+--There, now, that is the whole matter in a nutshell. Why do your teeth
+like crackling crust, and your organs of taste like spongy crumb,
+and your digestive contrivances take kindly to bread rather than
+toadstools--
+
+That Boy (thinking he was still being catechised).--Because they do.
+
+Whereupon the Landlady said, Sh! and the Young Girl laughed, and the
+Lady smiled; and Dr. Ben Franklin kicked him, moderately, under the
+table, and the Astronomer looked up at the ceiling to see what had
+happened, and the Member of the Haouse cried, Order! Order! and the
+Salesman said, Shut up, cash-boy! and the rest of the boarders kept on
+feeding; except the Master, who looked very hard but half approvingly
+at the small intruder, who had come about as nearly right as most
+professors would have done.
+
+--You poets,--the Master said after this excitement had calmed down,
+--you poets have one thing about you that is odd. You talk about
+everything as if you knew more about it than the people whose business
+it is to know all about it. I suppose you do a little of what we
+teachers used to call “cramming” now and then?
+
+--If you like your breakfast you must n't ask the cook too many
+questions,--I answered.
+
+--Oh, come now, don't be afraid of letting out your secrets. I have
+a notion I can tell a poet that gets himself up just as I can tell a
+make-believe old man on the stage by the line where the gray skullcap
+joins the smooth forehead of the young fellow of seventy. You'll confess
+to a rhyming dictionary anyhow, won't you?
+
+--I would as lief use that as any other dictionary, but I don't want it.
+When a word comes up fit to end a line with I can feel all the rhymes
+in the language that are fit to go with it without naming them. I have
+tried them all so many times, I know all the polygamous words and all
+the monogamous ones, and all the unmarrying ones,--the whole lot that
+have no mates,--as soon as I hear their names called. Sometimes I run
+over a string of rhymes, but generally speaking it is strange what
+a short list it is of those that are good for anything. That is the
+pitiful side of all rhymed verse. Take two such words as home and world.
+What can you do with chrome or loam or gnome or tome? You have dome,
+foam, and roam, and not much more to use in your pome, as some of our
+fellow-countrymen call it. As for world, you know that in all human
+probability somebody or something will be hurled into it or out of it;
+its clouds may be furled or its grass impearled; possibly something may
+be whirled, or curled, or have swirled, one of Leigh Hunt's words, which
+with lush, one of Keats's, is an important part of the stock in trade of
+some dealers in rhyme.
+
+--And how much do you versifiers know of all those arts and sciences you
+refer to as if you were as familiar with them as a cobbler is with his
+wax and lapstone?
+
+--Enough not to make too many mistakes. The best way is to ask some
+expert before one risks himself very far in illustrations from a branch
+he does not know much about. Suppose, for instance, I wanted to use the
+double star to illustrate anything, say the relation of two human souls
+to each other, what would I--do? Why, I would ask our young friend
+there to let me look at one of those loving celestial pairs through his
+telescope, and I don't doubt he'd let me do so, and tell me their names
+and all I wanted to know about them.
+
+--I should be most happy to show any of the double stars or whatever
+else there might be to see in the heavens to any of our friends at this
+table,--the young man said, so cordially and kindly that it was a real
+invitation.
+
+--Show us the man in the moon,--said That Boy.--I should so like to
+see a double star!--said Scheherezade, with a very pretty air of smiling
+modesty.
+
+--Will you go, if we make up a party?--I asked the Master.
+
+--A cold in the head lasts me from three to five days,--answered
+the Master.--I am not so very fond of being out in the dew like
+Nebuchadnezzar: that will do for you young folks.
+
+--I suppose I must be one of the young folks, not so young as our
+Scheherezade, nor so old as the Capitalist,--young enough at any rate to
+want to be of the party. So we agreed that on some fair night when the
+Astronomer should tell us that there was to be a fine show in the skies,
+we would make up a party and go to the Observatory. I asked the Scarabee
+whether he would not like to make one of us.
+
+--Out of the question, sir, out of the question. I am altogether too
+much occupied with an important scientific investigation to devote any
+considerable part of an evening to star-gazing.
+
+--Oh, indeed,--said I,--and may I venture to ask on what particular
+point you are engaged just at present?
+
+-Certainly, sir, you may. It is, I suppose, as difficult and important
+a matter to be investigated as often comes before a student of natural
+history. I wish to settle the point once for all whether the Pediculus
+Mellitae is or is not the larva of Meloe.
+
+[--Now is n't this the drollest world to live in that one could imagine,
+short of being in a fit of delirium tremens? Here is a fellow-creature
+of mine and yours who is asked to see all the glories of the firmament
+brought close to him, and he is too busy with a little unmentionable
+parasite that infests the bristly surface of a bee to spare an hour or
+two of a single evening for the splendors of the universe! I must get a
+peep through that microscope of his and see the pediculus which occupies
+a larger space in his mental vision than the midnight march of the solar
+systems.--The creature, the human one, I mean, interests me.]
+
+--I am very curious,--I said,--about that pediculus melittae,--(just as
+if I knew a good deal about the little wretch and wanted to know more,
+whereas I had never heard him spoken of before, to my knowledge,)--could
+you let me have a sight of him in your microscope?
+
+--You ought to have seen the way in which the poor dried-up little
+Scarabee turned towards me. His eyes took on a really human look, and
+I almost thought those antennae-like arms of his would have stretched
+themselves out and embraced me. I don't believe any of the boarders
+had ever shown any interest in--him, except the little monkey of a Boy,
+since he had been in the house. It is not strange; he had not seemed to
+me much like a human being, until all at once I touched the one point
+where his vitality had concentrated itself, and he stood revealed a man
+and a brother.
+
+--Come in,--said he,--come in, right after breakfast, and you shall see
+the animal that has convulsed the entomological world with questions as
+to his nature and origin.
+
+--So I went into the Scarabee's parlor, lodging-room, study, laboratory,
+and museum,--a--single apartment applied to these various uses, you
+understand.
+
+--I wish I had time to have you show me all your treasures,--I said,
+--but I am afraid I shall hardly be able to do more than look at the
+bee-parasite. But what a superb butterfly you have in that case!
+
+--Oh, yes, yes, well enough,--came from South America with the beetle
+there; look at him! These Lepidoptera are for children to play with,
+pretty to look at, so some think. Give me the Coleoptera, and the kings
+of the Coleoptera are the beetles! Lepidoptera and Neuroptera for little
+folks; Coleopteras for men, sir!
+
+--The particular beetle he showed me in the case with the magnificent
+butterfly was an odious black wretch that one would say, Ugh! at, and
+kick out of his path, if he did not serve him worse than that. But he
+looked at it as a coin-collector would look at a Pescennius Niger, if
+the coins of that Emperor are as scarce as they used to be when I was
+collecting half-penny tokens and pine-tree shillings and battered bits
+of Roman brass with the head of Gallienus or some such old fellow on
+them.
+
+--A beauty!--he exclaimed,--and the only specimen of the kind in
+this country, to the best of my belief. A unique, sir, and there is a
+pleasure in exclusive possession. Not another beetle like that short of
+South America, sir.
+
+--I was glad to hear that there were no more like it in this
+neighborhood, the present supply of cockroaches answering every purpose,
+so far as I am concerned, that such an animal as this would be likely to
+serve.
+
+--Here are my bee-parasites,--said the Scarabee, showing me a box full
+of glass slides, each with a specimen ready mounted for the microscope.
+I was most struck with one little beast flattened out like a turtle,
+semi-transparent, six-legged, as I remember him, and every leg
+terminated by a single claw hooked like a lion's and as formidable for
+the size of the creature as that of the royal beast.
+
+--Lives on a bumblebee, does he?--I said. That's the way I call it.
+Bumblebee or bumblybee and huckleberry. Humblebee and whortleberry for
+people that say Woos-ses-ter and Nor-wich.
+
+--The Scarabee did not smile; he took no interest in trivial matters
+like this.
+
+--Lives on a bumblebee. When you come to think of it, he must lead a
+pleasant kind of life. Sails through the air without the trouble
+of flying. Free pass everywhere that the bee goes. No fear of being
+dislodged; look at those six grappling-hooks. Helps himself to such
+juices of the bee as he likes best; the bee feeds on the choicest
+vegetable nectars, and he feeds on the bee. Lives either in the air or
+in the perfumed pavilion of the fairest and sweetest flowers. Think what
+tents the hollyhocks and the great lilies spread for him! And wherever
+he travels a band of music goes with him, for this hum which wanders by
+us is doubtless to him a vast and inspiring strain of melody.--I
+thought all this, while the Scarabee supposed I was studying the minute
+characters of the enigmatical specimen.
+
+--I know what I consider your pediculus melittae, I said at length.
+
+Do you think it really the larva of meloe?
+
+--Oh, I don't know much about that, but I think he is the best cared
+for, on the whole, of any animal that I know of; and if I wasn't a man
+I believe I had rather be that little sybarite than anything that feasts
+at the board of nature.
+
+--The question is, whether he is the larva of meloe,--the Scarabee said,
+as if he had not heard a word of what I had just been saying.---If I
+live a few years longer it shall be settled, sir; and if my epitaph
+can say honestly that I settled it, I shall be willing to trust my
+posthumous fame to that achievement.
+
+I said good morning to the specialist, and went off feeling not only
+kindly, but respectfully towards him. He is an enthusiast, at any rate,
+as “earnest” a man as any philanthropic reformer who, having passed his
+life in worrying people out of their misdoings into good behavior, comes
+at last to a state in which he is never contented except when he is
+making somebody uncomfortable. He does certainly know one thing well,
+very likely better than anybody in the world.
+
+I find myself somewhat singularly placed at our table between a minute
+philosopher who has concentrated all his faculties on a single subject,
+and my friend who finds the present universe too restricted for his
+intelligence. I would not give much to hear what the Scarabee says about
+the old Master, for he does not pretend to form a judgment of anything
+but beetles, but I should like to hear what the Master has to say about
+the Scarabee. I waited after breakfast until he had gone, and then asked
+the Master what he could make of our dried-up friend.
+
+--Well,--he said,--I am hospitable enough in my feelings to him and all
+his tribe. These specialists are the coral-insects that build up a reef.
+By and by it will be an island, and for aught we know may grow into a
+continent. But I don't want to be a coral-insect myself. I had rather be
+a voyager that visits all the reefs and islands the creatures build,
+and sails over the seas where they have as yet built up nothing. I am
+a little afraid that science is breeding us down too fast into
+coral-insects. A man like Newton or Leibnitz or Haller used to paint a
+picture of outward or inward nature with a free hand, and stand back and
+look at it as a whole and feel like an archangel; but nowadays you have
+a Society, and they come together and make a great mosaic, each man
+bringing his little bit and sticking it in its place, but so taken up
+with his petty fragment that he never thinks of looking at the picture
+the little bits make when they are put together. You can't get any talk
+out of these specialists away from their own subjects, any more than you
+can get help from a policeman outside of his own beat.
+
+--Yes,--said I,--but why should n't we always set a man talking about
+the thing he knows best?
+
+--No doubt, no doubt, if you meet him once; but what are you going to do
+with him if you meet him every day? I travel with a man and we want
+to make change very often in paying bills. But every time I ask him to
+change a pistareen, or give me two fo'pencehappennies for a ninepence,
+or help me to make out two and thrippence (mark the old Master's
+archaisms about the currency), what does the fellow do but put his hand
+in his pocket and pull out an old Roman coin; I have no change, says he,
+but this assarion of Diocletian. Mighty deal of good that'll do me!
+
+--It isn't quite so handy as a few specimens of the modern currency
+would be, but you can pump him on numismatics.
+
+--To be sure, to be sure. I've pumped a thousand men of all they could
+teach me, or at least all I could learn from 'em; and if it comes to
+that, I never saw the man that couldn't teach me something. I can get
+along with everybody in his place, though I think the place of some of
+my friends is over there among the feeble-minded pupils, and I don't
+believe there's one of them, I couldn't go to school to for half an hour
+and be the wiser for it. But people you talk with every day have got
+to have feeders for their minds, as much as the stream that turns
+a millwheel has. It isn't one little rill that's going to keep the
+float-boards turning round. Take a dozen of the brightest men you can
+find in the brightest city, wherever that may be,--perhaps you and I
+think we know,--and let 'em come together once a month, and you'll find
+out in the course of a year or two the ones that have feeders from all
+the hillsides. Your common talkers, that exchange the gossip of the day,
+have no wheel in particular to turn, and the wash of the rain as it runs
+down the street is enough for them.
+
+--Do you mean you can always see the sources from which a man fills his
+mind,--his feeders, as you call them?
+
+-I don't go quite so far as that,--the Master said.--I've seen men
+whose minds were always overflowing, and yet they did n't read much nor
+go much into the world. Sometimes you'll find a bit of a pond-hole in a
+pasture, and you'll plunge your walking-stick into it and think you
+are going to touch bottom. But you find you are mistaken. Some of these
+little stagnant pond-holes are a good deal deeper than you think; you
+may tie a stone to a bed-cord and not get soundings in some of 'em. The
+country boys will tell you they have no bottom, but that only means that
+they are mighty deep; and so a good many stagnant, stupid-seeming
+people are a great deal deeper than the length of your intellectual
+walking-stick, I can tell you. There are hidden springs that keep the
+little pond-holes full when the mountain brooks are all dried up. You
+poets ought to know that.
+
+--I can't help thinking you are more tolerant towards the specialists
+than I thought at first, by the way you seemed to look at our dried-up
+neighbor and his small pursuits.
+
+--I don't like the word tolerant,--the Master said.--As long as
+the Lord can tolerate me I think I can stand my fellow-creatures.
+Philosophically, I love 'em all; empirically, I don't think I am very
+fond of all of 'em. It depends on how you look at a man or a woman. Come
+here, Youngster, will you? he said to That Boy.
+
+The Boy was trying to catch a blue-bottle to add to his collection,
+and was indisposed to give up the chase; but he presently saw that the
+Master had taken out a small coin and laid it on the table, and felt
+himself drawn in that direction.
+
+Read that,--said the Master.
+
+U-n-i-ni United States of America 5 cents.
+
+The Master turned the coin over. Now read that.
+
+In God is our t-r-u-s-t--trust. 1869.
+
+--Is that the same piece of money as the other one?
+
+--There ain't any other one,--said the Boy, there ain't but one, but
+it's got two sides to it with different reading.
+
+--That 's it, that 's it,--said the Master,--two sides to everybody, as
+there are to that piece of money. I've seen an old woman that wouldn't
+fetch five cents if you should put her up for sale at public auction;
+and yet come to read the other side of her, she had a trust in God
+Almighty that was like the bow anchor of a three-decker. It's faith in
+something and enthusiasm for something that makes a life worth looking
+at. I don't think your ant-eating specialist, with his sharp nose and
+pin-head eyes, is the best every-day companion; but any man who knows
+one thing well is worth listening to for once; and if you are of the
+large-brained variety of the race, and want to fill out your programme
+of the Order of Things in a systematic and exhaustive way, and get all
+the half-notes and flats and sharps of humanity into your scale, you'd a
+great deal better shut your front door and open your two side ones
+when you come across a fellow that has made a real business of doing
+anything.
+
+--That Boy stood all this time looking hard at the five-cent piece.
+
+--Take it,--said the Master, with a good-natured smile.
+
+--The Boy made a snatch at it and was off for the purpose of investing
+it.
+
+--A child naturally snaps at a thing as a dog does at his meat,--said
+the Master.--If you think of it, we've all been quadrupeds. A child
+that can only crawl has all the instincts of a four-footed beast. It
+carries things in its mouth just as cats and dogs do. I've seen the
+little brutes do it over and over again. I suppose a good many children
+would stay quadrupeds all their lives, if they didn't learn the trick of
+walking on their hind legs from seeing all the grown people walking in
+that way.
+
+--Do you accept Mr. Darwin's notions about the origin of the race?--said
+I.
+
+The Master looked at me with that twinkle in his eye which means that he
+is going to parry a question.
+
+--Better stick to Blair's Chronology; that settles it. Adam and Eve,
+created Friday, October 28th, B. C. 4004. You've been in a ship for a
+good while, and here comes Mr. Darwin on deck with an armful of sticks
+and says, “Let's build a raft, and trust ourselves to that.”
+
+If your ship springs a leak, what would you do?
+
+He looked me straight in the eyes for about half a minute.--If I heard
+the pumps going, I'd look and see whether they were gaining on the leak
+or not. If they were gaining I'd stay where I was.--Go and find out
+what's the matter with that young woman.
+
+I had noticed that the Young Girl--the storywriter, our Scheherezade, as
+I called her--looked as if she had been crying or lying awake half the
+night. I found on asking her,--for she is an honest little body and is
+disposed to be confidential with me for some reason or other,--that she
+had been doing both.
+
+--And what was the matter now, I questioned her in a semi-paternal kind
+of way, as soon as I got a chance for a few quiet words with her.
+
+She was engaged to write a serial story, it seems, and had only got as
+far as the second number, and some critic had been jumping upon it, she
+said, and grinding his heel into it, till she couldn't bear to look at
+it. He said she did not write half so well as half a dozen other young
+women. She did n't write half so well as she used to write herself. She
+hadn't any characters and she had n't any incidents. Then he went
+to work to show how her story was coming out, trying to anticipate
+everything she could make of it, so that her readers should have nothing
+to look forward to, and he should have credit for his sagacity in
+guessing, which was nothing so very wonderful, she seemed to think.
+Things she had merely hinted and left the reader to infer, he told right
+out in the bluntest and coarsest way. It had taken all the life out of
+her, she said. It was just as if at a dinner-party one of the guests
+should take a spoonful of soup and get up and say to the company, “Poor
+stuff, poor stuff; you won't get anything better; let's go somewhere
+else where things are fit to eat.”
+
+What do you read such things for, my dear? said I.
+
+The film glistened in her eyes at the strange sound of those two soft
+words; she had not heard such very often, I am afraid.
+
+--I know I am a foolish creature to read them, she answered,--but I
+can't help it; somebody always sends me everything that will make me
+wretched to read, and so I sit down and read it, and ache all over for
+my pains, and lie awake all night.
+
+--She smiled faintly as she said this, for she saw the sub-ridiculous
+side of it, but the film glittered still in her eyes. There are a good
+many real miseries in life that we cannot help smiling at, but they are
+the smiles that make wrinkles and not dimples. “Somebody always sends
+her everything that will make her wretched.” Who can those creatures be
+who cut out the offensive paragraph and send it anonymously to us, who
+mail the newspaper which has the article we had much better not have
+seen, who take care that we shall know everything which can, by any
+possibility, help to make us discontented with ourselves and a little
+less light-hearted than we were before we had been fools enough to
+open their incendiary packages? I don't like to say it to myself, but I
+cannot help suspecting, in this instance, the doubtful-looking personage
+who sits on my left, beyond the Scarabee. I have some reason to think
+that he has made advances to the Young Girl which were not favorably
+received, to state the case in moderate terms, and it may be that he is
+taking his revenge in cutting up the poor girl's story. I know this very
+well, that some personal pique or favoritism is at the bottom of half
+the praise and dispraise which pretend to be so very ingenuous and
+discriminating. (Of course I have been thinking all this time and
+telling you what I thought.)
+
+--What you want is encouragement, my dear, said I,--I know that as well,
+as you. I don't think the fellows that write such criticisms as you
+tell me of want to correct your faults. I don't mean to say that you can
+learn nothing from them, because they are not all fools by any means,
+and they will often pick out your weak points with a malignant sagacity,
+as a pettifogging lawyer will frequently find a real flaw in trying to
+get at everything he can quibble about. But is there nobody who will
+praise you generously when you do well,--nobody that will lend you a
+hand now while you want it,--or must they all wait until you have made
+yourself a name among strangers, and then all at once find out that you
+have something in you? Oh,--said the girl, and the bright film gathered
+too fast for her young eyes to hold much longer,--I ought not to be
+ungrateful! I have found the kindest friend in the world. Have you ever
+heard the Lady--the one that I sit next to at the table--say anything
+about me?
+
+I have not really made her acquaintance, I said. She seems to me a
+little distant in her manners and I have respected her pretty evident
+liking for keeping mostly to herself.
+
+--Oh, but when you once do know her! I don't believe I could write
+stories all the time as I do, if she didn't ask me up to her chamber,
+and let me read them to her. Do you know, I can make her laugh and cry,
+reading my poor stories? And sometimes, when I feel as if I had written
+out all there is in me, and want to lie down and go to sleep and never
+wake up except in a world where there are no weekly papers,--when
+everything goes wrong, like a car off the track,--she takes hold and
+sets me on the rails again all right.
+
+--How does she go to work to help you?
+
+--Why, she listens to my stories, to begin with, as if she really liked
+to hear them. And then you know I am dreadfully troubled now and then
+with some of my characters, and can't think how to get rid of them. And
+she'll say, perhaps, Don't shoot your villain this time, you've shot
+three or four already in the last six weeks; let his mare stumble and
+throw him and break his neck. Or she'll give me a hint about some new
+way for my lover to make a declaration. She must have had a good many
+offers, it's my belief, for she has told me a dozen different ways for
+me to use in my stories. And whenever I read a story to her, she always
+laughs and cries in the right places; and that's such a comfort, for
+there are some people that think everything pitiable is so funny,
+and will burst out laughing when poor Rip Van Winkle--you've seen Mr.
+Jefferson, haven't you?--is breaking your heart for you if you have
+one. Sometimes she takes a poem I have written and reads it to me so
+beautifully, that I fall in love with it, and sometimes she sets my
+verses to music and sings them to me.
+
+--You have a laugh together sometimes, do you?
+
+--Indeed we do. I write for what they call the “Comic Department” of
+the paper now and then. If I did not get so tired of story-telling, I
+suppose I should be gayer than I am; but as it is, we two get a little
+fun out of my comic pieces. I begin them half-crying sometimes, but
+after they are done they amuse me. I don't suppose my comic pieces are
+very laughable; at any rate the man who makes a business of writing me
+down says the last one I wrote is very melancholy reading, and that if
+it was only a little better perhaps some bereaved person might pick out
+a line or two that would do to put on a gravestone.
+
+--Well, that is hard, I must confess. Do let me see those lines which
+excite such sad emotions.
+
+--Will you read them very good-naturedly? If you will, I will get the
+paper that has “Aunt Tabitha.” That is the one the fault-finder said
+produced such deep depression of feeling. It was written for the “Comic
+Department.” Perhaps it will make you cry, but it was n't meant to.
+
+--I will finish my report this time with our Scheherezade's poem, hoping
+that--any critic who deals with it will treat it with the courtesy due
+to all a young lady's literary efforts.
+
+ AUNT TABITHA.
+
+ Whatever I do, and whatever I say,
+ Aunt Tabitha tells me that isn't the way;
+ When she was a girl (forty summers ago)
+ Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so.
+
+ Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice!
+ But I like my own way, and I find it so nice!
+ And besides, I forget half the things I am told;
+ But they all will come back to me--when I am old.
+
+ If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt,
+ He may chance to look in as I chance to look out;
+ She would never endure an impertinent stare,
+ It is horrid, she says, and I mustn't sit there.
+
+ A walk in the moonlight has pleasures, I own,
+ But it is n't quite safe to be walking alone;
+ So I take a lad's arm,--just for safety, you know,
+ But Aunt Tabitha tells me they didn't do so.
+
+ How wicked we are, and how good they were then!
+ They kept at arm's length those detestable men;
+ What an era of virtue she lived in!--But stay
+ Were the men all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day?
+
+ If the men were so wicked, I'll ask my papa
+ How he dared to propose to my darling mamma;
+ Was he like the rest of them? Goodness! Who knows
+ And what shall I say if a wretch should propose?
+
+ I am thinking if aunt knew so little of sin,
+ What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been!
+ And her grand-aunt--it scares me--how shockingly sad.
+ That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad!
+
+ A martyr will save us, and nothing else can;
+ Let me perish--to rescue some wretched young man!
+ Though when to the altar a victim I go,
+ Aunt Tabitha'll tell me she never did so!
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+The old Master has developed one quality of late for which I am afraid I
+hardly gave him credit. He has turned out to be an excellent listener.
+
+--I love to talk,--he said,--as a goose loves to swim. Sometimes I think
+it is because I am a goose. For I never talked much at any one time in
+my life without saying something or other I was sorry for.
+
+--You too!--said I--Now that is very odd, for it is an experience I
+have habitually. I thought you were rather too much of a philosopher
+to trouble yourself about such small matters as to whether you had said
+just what you meant to or not; especially as you know that the person
+you talk to does not remember a word of what you said the next morning,
+but is thinking, it is much more likely, of what she said, or how her
+new dress looked, or some other body's new dress which made--hers look
+as if it had been patched together from the leaves of last November.
+That's what she's probably thinking about.
+
+--She!--said the Master, with a look which it would take at least half a
+page to explain to the entire satisfaction of thoughtful readers of both
+sexes.
+
+--I paid the respect due to that most significant monosyllable, which,
+as the old Rabbi spoke it, with its targum of tone and expression, was
+not to be answered flippantly, but soberly, advisedly, and after a pause
+long enough for it to unfold its meaning in the listener's mind. For
+there are short single words (all the world remembers Rachel's Helas!)
+which are like those Japanese toys that look like nothing of any
+significance as you throw them on the water, but which after a little
+time open out into various strange and unexpected figures, and then you
+find that each little shred had a complicated story to tell of itself.
+
+-Yes,--said I, at the close of this silent interval, during which the
+monosyllable had been opening out its meanings,--She. When I think of
+talking, it is of course with a woman. For talking at its best being an
+inspiration, it wants a corresponding divine quality of receptiveness;
+and where will you find this but in woman?
+
+The Master laughed a pleasant little laugh,--not a harsh, sarcastic one,
+but playful, and tempered by so kind a look that it seemed as if every
+wrinkled line about his old eyes repeated, “God bless you,” as the
+tracings on the walls of the Alhambra repeat a sentence of the Koran.
+
+I said nothing, but looked the question, What are you laughing at?
+
+--Why, I laughed because I couldn't help saying to myself that a woman
+whose mind was taken up with thinking how she looked, and how her pretty
+neighbor looked, wouldn't have a great deal of thought to spare for all
+your fine discourse.
+
+--Come, now,--said I,--a man who contradicts himself in the course of
+two minutes must have a screw loose in his mental machinery. I never
+feel afraid that such a thing can happen to me, though it happens often
+enough when I turn a thought over suddenly, as you did that five-cent
+piece the other day, that it reads differently on its two sides. What I
+meant to say is something like this. A woman, notwithstanding she is the
+best of listeners, knows her business, and it is a woman's business to
+please. I don't say that it is not her business to vote, but I do say
+that a woman who does not please is a false note in the harmonies of
+nature. She may not have youth, or beauty, or even manner; but she must
+have something in her voice or expression, or both, which it makes you
+feel better disposed towards your race to look at or listen to. She
+knows that as well as we do; and her first question after you have been
+talking your soul into her consciousness is, Did I please? A woman never
+forgets her sex. She would rather talk with a man than an angel, any
+day.
+
+--This frightful speech of mine reached the ear of our Scheherezade, who
+said that it was perfectly shocking and that I deserved to be shown up
+as the outlaw in one of her bandit stories.
+
+Hush, my dear,--said the Lady,--you will have to bring John Milton
+into your story with our friend there, if you punish everybody who
+says naughty things like that. Send the little boy up to my chamber for
+Paradise Lost, if you please. He will find it lying on my table. The
+little old volume,--he can't mistake it.
+
+So the girl called That Boy round and gave him the message; I don't know
+why she should give it, but she did, and the Lady helped her out with a
+word or two.
+
+The little volume--its cover protected with soft white leather from a
+long kid glove, evidently suggesting the brilliant assemblies of the
+days when friends and fortune smiled-came presently and the Lady opened
+it.--You may read that, if you like, she said,--it may show you that
+our friend is to be pilloried in good company.
+
+The Young Girl ran her eye along the passage the Lady pointed out,
+blushed, laughed, and slapped the book down as though she would have
+liked to box the ears of Mr. John Milton, if he had been a contemporary
+and fellow-contributor to the “Weekly Bucket.”--I won't touch the
+thing,--she said.--He was a horrid man to talk so: and he had as many
+wives as Blue-Beard.
+
+--Fair play,--said the Master.--Bring me the book, my little fractional
+superfluity,--I mean you, my nursling,--my boy, if that suits your small
+Highness better.
+
+The Boy brought the book.
+
+The old Master, not unfamiliar with the great epic opened pretty nearly
+to the place, and very soon found the passage: He read, aloud with grand
+scholastic intonation and in a deep voice that silenced the table as if
+a prophet had just uttered Thus saith the Lord:--
+
+ “So spake our sire, and by his countenance seemed
+ Entering on studious thoughts abstruse; which Eve
+ Perceiving--”
+
+went to water her geraniums, to make a short story of it, and left
+the two “conversationists,” to wit, the angel Raphael and the
+gentleman,--there was but one gentleman in society then, you know,--to
+talk it out.
+
+ “Yet went she not, as not with such discourse
+ Delighted, or not capable her ear
+ Of what was high; such pleasure she reserved,
+ Adam relating, she sole auditress;
+ Her husband the relater she preferred
+ Before the angel, and of him to ask
+ Chose rather; he she knew would intermix
+ Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute
+ With conjugal caresses: from his lips
+ Not words alone pleased her.”
+
+Everybody laughed, except the Capitalist, who was a little hard of
+hearing, and the Scarabee, whose life was too earnest for demonstrations
+of that kind. He had his eyes fixed on the volume, however, with eager
+interest.
+
+--The p'int 's carried,--said the Member of the Haouse.
+
+Will you let me look at that book a single minute?--said the Scarabee.
+I passed it to him, wondering what in the world he wanted of Paradise
+Lost.
+
+Dermestes lardarius,--he said, pointing to a place where the edge of one
+side of the outer cover had been slightly tasted by some insect.--Very
+fond of leather while they 're in the larva state.
+
+--Damage the goods as bad as mice,--said the Salesman.
+
+--Eat half the binding off Folio 67,--said the Register of Deeds.
+Something did, anyhow, and it was n't mice. Found the shelf covered with
+little hairy cases belonging to something or other that had no business
+there.
+
+Skins of the Dermestes lardaraus,--said the Scarabee,--you can always
+tell them by those brown hairy coats. That 's the name to give them.
+
+--What good does it do to give 'em a name after they 've eat the binding
+off my folios?--asked the Register of Deeds.
+
+The Scarabee had too much respect for science to answer such a question
+as that; and the book, having served its purposes, was passed back to
+the Lady.
+
+I return to the previous question,--said I,--if our friend the Member of
+the House of Representatives will allow me to borrow the phrase. Womanly
+women are very kindly critics, except to themselves and now and then to
+their own sex. The less there is of sex about a woman, the more she is
+to be dreaded. But take a real woman at her best moment,--well dressed
+enough to be pleased with herself, not so resplendent as to be a
+show and a sensation, with those varied outside influences which set
+vibrating the harmonic notes of her nature stirring in the air about
+her, and what has social life to compare with one of those vital
+interchanges of thought and feeling with her that make an hour
+memorable? What can equal her tact, her delicacy, her subtlety of
+apprehension, her quickness to feel the changes of temperature as the
+warm and cool currents of talk blow by turns? At one moment she is
+microscopically intellectual, critical, scrupulous in judgment as an
+analyst's balance, and the next as sympathetic as the open rose that
+sweetens the wind from whatever quarter it finds its way to her bosom.
+It is in the hospitable soul of a woman that a man forgets he is a
+stranger, and so becomes natural and truthful, at the same time that he
+is mesmerized by all those divine differences which make her a mystery
+and a bewilderment to--
+
+If you fire your popgun at me, you little chimpanzee, I will stick a pin
+right through the middle of you and put you into one of this gentleman's
+beetle-cases!
+
+I caught the imp that time, but what started him was more than I could
+guess. It is rather hard that this spoiled child should spoil such a
+sentence as that was going to be; but the wind shifted all at once, and
+the talk had to come round on another tack, or at least fall off a point
+or two from its course.
+
+--I'll tell you who I think are the best talkers in all probability,
+--said I to the Master, who, as I mentioned, was developing interesting
+talent as a listener,--poets who never write verses. And there are a
+good many more of these than it would seem at first sight. I think you
+may say every young lover is a poet, to begin with. I don't mean either
+that all young lovers are good talkers,--they have an eloquence all
+their own when they are with the beloved object, no doubt, emphasized
+after the fashion the solemn bard of Paradise refers to with such
+delicious humor in the passage we just heard,--but a little talk goes a
+good way in most of these cooing matches, and it wouldn't do to report
+them too literally. What I mean is, that a man with the gift of musical
+and impassioned phrase (and love often deeds that to a young person for
+a while), who “wreaks” it, to borrow Byron's word, on conversation as
+the natural outlet of his sensibilities and spiritual activities, is
+likely to talk better than the poet, who plays on the instrument of
+verse. A great pianist or violinist is rarely a great singer. To write
+a poem is to expend the vital force which would have made one brilliant
+for an hour or two, and to expend it on an instrument with more pipes,
+reeds, keys, stops, and pedals than the Great Organ that shakes New
+England every time it is played in full blast.
+
+Do you mean that it is hard work to write a poem?--said the old
+Master.--I had an idea that a poem wrote itself, as it were, very
+often; that it came by influx, without voluntary effort; indeed, you
+have spoken of it as an inspiration rather than a result of volition.
+
+--Did you ever see a great ballet-dancer?--I asked him.
+
+--I have seen Taglioni,--he answered.--She used to take her steps
+rather prettily. I have seen the woman that danced the capstone on to
+Bunker Hill Monument, as Orpheus moved the rocks by music, the Elssler
+woman,--Fanny Elssler. She would dance you a rigadoon or cut a pigeon's
+wing for you very respectably.
+
+(Confound this old college book-worm,---he has seen everything!)
+
+Well, did these two ladies dance as if it was hard work to them?
+
+--Why no, I should say they danced as if they liked it and couldn't help
+dancing; they looked as if they felt so “corky” it was hard to keep them
+down.
+
+--And yet they had been through such work to get their limbs strong and
+flexible and obedient, that a cart-horse lives an easy life compared to
+theirs while they were in training.
+
+--The Master cut in just here--I had sprung the trap of a reminiscence.
+
+--When I was a boy,--he said,--some of the mothers in our small town,
+who meant that their children should know what was what as well as other
+people's children, laid their heads together and got a dancing-master to
+come out from the city and give instruction at a few dollars a quarter
+to the young folks of condition in the village. Some of their husbands
+were ministers and some were deacons, but the mothers knew what they
+were about, and they did n't see any reason why ministers' and deacons'
+wives' children shouldn't have as easy manners as the sons and daughters
+of Belial. So, as I tell you, they got a dancing-master to come out to
+our place,--a man of good repute, a most respectable man,--madam (to
+the Landlady), you must remember the worthy old citizen, in his
+advanced age, going about the streets, a most gentlemanly bundle of
+infirmities,--only he always cocked his hat a little too much on
+one side, as they do here and there along the Connecticut River, and
+sometimes on our city sidewalks, when they've got a new beaver; they got
+him, I say, to give us boys and girls lessons in dancing and deportment.
+He was as gray and as lively as a squirrel, as I remember him, and used
+to spring up in the air and “cross his feet,” as we called it, three
+times before he came down. Well, at the end of each term there was what
+they called an “exhibition ball,” in which the scholars danced cotillons
+and country-dances; also something called a “gavotte,” and I think one
+or more walked a minuet. But all this is not what--I wanted to say. At
+this exhibition ball he used to bring out a number of hoops wreathed
+with roses, of the perennial kind, by the aid of which a number of
+amazingly complicated and startling evolutions were exhibited; and also
+his two daughters, who figured largely in these evolutions, and whose
+wonderful performances to us, who had not seen Miss Taglioni or Miss
+Elssler, were something quite bewildering, in fact, surpassing the
+natural possibilities of human beings. Their extraordinary powers were,
+however, accounted for by the following explanation, which was accepted
+in the school as entirely satisfactory. A certain little bone in the
+ankles of each of these young girls had been broken intentionally,
+secundum artem, at a very early age, and thus they had been fitted to
+accomplish these surprising feats which threw the achievements of
+the children who were left in the condition of the natural man into
+ignominious shadow.
+
+--Thank you,--said I,--you have helped out my illustration so as to make
+it better than I expected. Let me begin again. Every poem that is worthy
+of the name, no matter how easily it seems to be written, represents
+a great amount of vital force expended at some time or other. When you
+find a beach strewed with the shells and other spoils that belonged once
+to the deep sea, you know the tide has been there, and that the winds
+and waves have wrestled over its naked sands. And so, if I find a poem
+stranded in my soul and have nothing to do but seize it as a wrecker
+carries off the treasure he finds cast ashore, I know I have paid at
+some time for that poem with some inward commotion, were it only an
+excess of enjoyment, which has used up just so much of my vital capital.
+But besides all the impressions that furnished the stuff of the poem,
+there has been hard work to get the management of that wonderful
+instrument I spoke of,--the great organ, language. An artist who works
+in marble or colors has them all to himself and his tribe, but the man
+who moulds his thought in verse has to employ the materials vulgarized
+by everybody's use, and glorify them by his handling. I don't know that
+you must break any bones in a poet's mechanism before his thought
+can dance in rhythm, but read your Milton and see what training, what
+patient labor, it took before he could shape our common speech into his
+majestic harmonies.
+
+It is rather singular, but the same kind of thing has happened to me not
+very rarely before, as I suppose it has to most persons, that just when
+I happened to be thinking about poets and their conditions, this very
+morning, I saw a paragraph or two from a foreign paper which is apt to
+be sharp, if not cynical, relating to the same matter. I can't help
+it; I want to have my talk about it, and if I say the same things that
+writer did, somebody else can have the satisfaction of saying I stole
+them all.
+
+[I thought the person whom I have called hypothetically the Man
+of Letters changed color a little and betrayed a certain awkward
+consciousness that some of us were looking at him or thinking of him;
+but I am a little suspicious about him and may do him wrong.]
+
+That poets are treated as privileged persons by their admirers and the
+educated public can hardly be disputed. That they consider themselves so
+there is no doubt whatever. On the whole, I do not know so easy a way of
+shirking all the civic and social and domestic duties, as to settle it
+in one's mind that one is a poet. I have, therefore, taken great pains
+to advise other persons laboring under the impression that they were
+gifted beings, destined to soar in the atmosphere of song above the
+vulgar realities of earth, not to neglect any homely duty under the
+influence of that impression. The number of these persons is so great
+that if they were suffered to indulge their prejudice against every-day
+duties and labors, it would be a serious loss to the productive
+industry of the country. My skirts are clear (so far as other people are
+concerned) of countenancing that form of intellectual opium-eating in
+which rhyme takes the place of the narcotic. But what are you going to
+do when you find John Keats an apprentice to a surgeon or apothecary? Is
+n't it rather better to get another boy to sweep out the shop and shake
+out the powders and stir up the mixtures, and leave him undisturbed to
+write his Ode on a Grecian Urn or to a Nightingale? Oh yes, the critic
+I have referred to would say, if he is John Keats; but not if he is of
+a much lower grade, even though he be genuine, what there is of him. But
+the trouble is, the sensitive persons who belong to the lower grades
+of the poetical hierarchy do not--know their own poetical limitations,
+while they do feel a natural unfitness and disinclination for many
+pursuits which young persons of the average balance of faculties take to
+pleasantly enough. What is forgotten is this, that every real poet,
+even of the humblest grade, is an artist. Now I venture to say that any
+painter or sculptor of real genius, though he may do nothing more than
+paint flowers and fruit, or carve cameos, is considered a privileged
+person. It is recognized perfectly that to get his best work he must
+be insured the freedom from disturbances which the creative power
+absolutely demands, more absolutely perhaps in these slighter artists
+than in the great masters. His nerves must be steady for him to finish a
+rose-leaf or the fold of a nymph's drapery in his best manner; and
+they will be unsteadied if he has to perform the honest drudgery which
+another can do for him quite as well. And it is just so with the poet,
+though he were only finishing an epigram; you must no more meddle
+roughly with him than you would shake a bottle of Chambertin and expect
+the “sunset glow” to redden your glass unclouded. On the other hand,
+it may be said that poetry is not an article of prime necessity, and
+potatoes are. There is a disposition in many persons just now to deny
+the poet his benefit of clergy, and to hold him no better than other
+people. Perhaps he is not, perhaps he is not so good, half the time; but
+he is a luxury, and if you want him you must pay for him, by not trying
+to make a drudge of him while he is all his lifetime struggling with the
+chills and heats of his artistic intermittent fever.
+
+There may have been some lesser interruptions during the talk I have
+reported as if it was a set speech, but this was the drift of what I
+said and should have said if the other man, in the Review I referred to,
+had not seen fit to meddle with the subject, as some fellow always does,
+just about the time when I am going to say something about it. The old
+Master listened beautifully, except for cutting in once, as I told
+you he did. But now he had held in as long as it was in his nature to
+contain himself, and must have his say or go off in an apoplexy,
+or explode in some way.--I think you're right about the poets,--he
+said.--They are to common folks what repeaters are to ordinary watches.
+They carry music in their inside arrangements, but they want to be
+handled carefully or you put them out of order. And perhaps you must
+n't expect them to be quite as good timekeepers as the professional
+chronometer watches that make a specialty of being exact within a few
+seconds a month. They think too much of themselves. So does everybody
+that considers himself as having a right to fall back on what he calls
+his idiosyncrasy. Yet a man has such a right, and it is no easy thing to
+adjust the private claim to the fair public demand on him. Suppose you
+are subject to tic douloureux, for instance. Every now and then a tiger
+that nobody can see catches one side of your face between his jaws and
+holds on till he is tired and lets go. Some concession must be made to
+you on that score, as everybody can see. It is fair to give you a seat
+that is not in the draught, and your friends ought not to find
+fault with you if you do not care to join a party that is going on a
+sleigh-ride. Now take a poet like Cowper. He had a mental neuralgia, a
+great deal worse in many respects than tic douloureux confined to the
+face. It was well that he was sheltered and relieved, by the cares of
+kind friends, especially those good women, from as many of the burdens
+of life as they could lift off from him. I am fair to the poets,--don't
+you agree that I am?
+
+Why, yes,--I said,--you have stated the case fairly enough, a good deal
+as I should have put it myself.
+
+Now, then,--the Master continued,--I 'll tell you what is necessary to
+all these artistic idiosyncrasies to bring them into good square human
+relations outside of the special province where their ways differ
+from those of other people. I am going to illustrate what I mean by a
+comparison. I don't know, by the way, but you would be disposed to think
+and perhaps call me a wine-bibber on the strength of the freedom with
+which I deal with that fluid for the purposes of illustration. But I
+make mighty little use of it, except as it furnishes me an image now and
+then, as it did, for that matter, to the Disciples and their Master.
+In my younger days they used to bring up the famous old wines, the
+White-top, the Juno, the Eclipse, the Essex Junior, and the rest, in
+their old cobwebbed, dusty bottles. The resurrection of one of these old
+sepulchred dignitaries had something of solemnity about it; it was like
+the disinterment of a king; the bringing to light of the Royal Martyr
+King Charles I., for instance, that Sir Henry Halford gave such an
+interesting account of. And the bottle seemed to inspire a personal
+respect; it was wrapped in a napkin and borne tenderly and reverently
+round to the guests, and sometimes a dead silence went before the first
+gush of its amber flood, and
+
+ “The boldest held his breath
+ For a time.”
+
+But nowadays the precious juice of a long-dead vintage is transferred
+carefully into a cut-glass decanter, and stands side by side with the
+sherry from a corner grocery, which looks just as bright and apparently
+thinks just as well of itself. The old historic Madeiras, which have
+warmed the periods of our famous rhetoricians of the past and burned
+in the impassioned eloquence of our earlier political demigods, have
+nothing to mark them externally but a bit of thread, it may be, round
+the neck of the decanter, or a slip of ribbon, pink on one of them and
+blue on another.
+
+Go to a London club,--perhaps I might find something nearer home that
+would serve my turn,--but go to a London club, and there you will see
+the celebrities all looking alike modern, all decanted off from
+their historic antecedents and their costume of circumstance into the
+every-day aspect of the gentleman of common cultivated society. That is
+Sir Coeur de Lion Plantagenet in the mutton-chop whiskers and the plain
+gray suit; there is the Laureate in a frockcoat like your own, and the
+leader of the House of Commons in a necktie you do not envy. That is the
+kind of thing you want to take the nonsense out of you. If you are not
+decanted off from yourself every few days or weeks, you will think it
+sacrilege to brush a cobweb from your cork by and by. O little
+fool, that has published a little book full of little poems or other
+sputtering tokens of an uneasy condition, how I love you for the one
+soft nerve of special sensibility that runs through your exiguous
+organism, and the one phosphorescent particle in your unilluminated
+intelligence! But if you don't leave your spun-sugar confectionery
+business once in a while, and come out among lusty men,--the bristly,
+pachydermatous fellows that hew out the highways for the material
+progress of society, and the broad-shouldered, out-of-door men that
+fight for the great prizes of life,--you will come to think that the
+spun-sugar business is the chief end of man, and begin to feel and
+look as if you believed yourself as much above common people as that
+personage of whom Tourgueneff says that “he had the air of his own
+statue erected by national subscription.”
+
+--The Master paused and fell into a deep thinking fit, as he does
+sometimes. He had had his own say, it is true, but he had established
+his character as a listener to my own perfect satisfaction, for I, too,
+was conscious of having preached with a certain prolixity.
+
+--I am always troubled when I think of my very limited mathematical
+capacities. It seems as if every well-organized mind should be able to
+handle numbers and quantities through their symbols to an indefinite
+extent; and yet, I am puzzled by what seems to a clever boy with a turn
+for calculation as plain as counting his fingers. I don't think any
+man feels well grounded in knowledge unless he has a good basis of
+mathematical certainties, and knows how to deal with them and apply them
+to every branch of knowledge where they can come in to advantage.
+
+Our Young Astronomer is known for his mathematical ability, and I asked
+him what he thought was the difficulty in the minds that are weak in
+that particular direction, while they may be of remarkable force in
+other provinces of thought, as is notoriously the case with some men of
+great distinction in science.
+
+The young man smiled and wrote a few letters and symbols on a piece of
+paper.--Can you see through that at once?--he said.
+
+I puzzled over it for some minutes and gave it up.
+
+--He said, as I returned it to him, You have heard military men say that
+such a person had an eye for country, have n't you? One man will note
+all the landmarks, keep the points of compass in his head, observe how
+the streams run, in short, carry a map in his brain of any region that
+he has marched or galloped through. Another man takes no note of any of
+these things; always follows somebody else's lead when he can, and gets
+lost if he is left to himself; a mere owl in daylight. Just so some men
+have an eye for an equation, and would read at sight the one that
+you puzzled over. It is told of Sir Isaac Newton that he required no
+demonstration of the propositions in Euclid's Geometry, but as soon as
+he had read the enunciation the solution or answer was plain at once.
+The power may be cultivated, but I think it is to a great degree a
+natural gift, as is the eye for color, as is the ear for music.
+
+--I think I could read equations readily enough,--I said,--if I could
+only keep my attention fixed on them; and I think I could keep my
+attention on them if I were imprisoned in a thinking-cell, such as the
+Creative Intelligence shapes for its studio when at its divinest work.
+
+The young man's lustrous eyes opened very widely as he asked me to
+explain what I meant.
+
+--What is the Creator's divinest work?--I asked.
+
+--Is there anything more divine than the sun; than a sun with its
+planets revolving about it, warming them, lighting them, and giving
+conscious life to the beings that move on them?
+
+--You agree, then, that conscious life is the grand aim and end of
+all this vast mechanism. Without life that could feel and enjoy,
+the splendors and creative energy would all be thrown away. You know
+Harvey's saying, omnia animalia ex ovo,--all animals come from an
+egg. You ought to know it, for the great controversy going on about
+spontaneous generation has brought it into special prominence lately.
+Well, then, the ovum, the egg, is, to speak in human phrase, the
+Creator's more private and sacred studio, for his magnum opus. Now, look
+at a hen's egg, which is a convenient one to study, because it is large
+enough and built solidly enough to look at and handle easily. That would
+be the form I would choose for my thinking-cell. Build me an oval with
+smooth, translucent walls, and put me in the centre of it with Newton's
+“Principia” or Kant's “Kritik,” and I think I shall develop “an eye for
+an equation,” as you call it, and a capacity for an abstraction.
+
+But do tell me,--said the Astronomer, a little incredulously,--what
+there is in that particular form which is going to help you to be a
+mathematician or a metaphysician?
+
+--It is n't help I want, it is removing hindrances. I don't want to see
+anything to draw off my attention. I don't want a cornice, or an angle,
+or anything but a containing curve. I want diffused light and no single
+luminous centre to fix my eye, and so distract my mind from its one
+object of contemplation. The metaphysics of attention have hardly been
+sounded to their depths. The mere fixing the look on any single object
+for a long time may produce very strange effects. Gibbon's well-known
+story of the monks of Mount Athos and their contemplative practice is
+often laughed over, but it has a meaning. They were to shut the door of
+the cell, recline the beard and chin on the breast, and contemplate the
+abdominal centre.
+
+“At first all will be dark and comfortless; but if you persevere day
+and night, you will feel an ineffable joy; and no sooner has the soul
+discovered the place of the heart, than it is involved in a mystic and
+ethereal light.” And Mr. Braid produces absolute anaesthesia, so that
+surgical operations can be performed without suffering to the patient,
+only by making him fix his eyes and his mind on a single object; and
+Newton is said to have said, as you remember, “I keep the subject
+constantly before me, and wait till the first dawnings open slowly by
+little and little into a full and clear light.” These are different, but
+certainly very wonderful, instances of what can be done by attention.
+But now suppose that your mind is in its nature discursive, erratic,
+subject to electric attractions and repulsions, volage; it may be
+impossible for you to compel your attention except by taking away
+all external disturbances. I think the poets have an advantage and a
+disadvantage as compared with the steadier-going people. Life is
+so vivid to the poet, that he is too eager to seize and exhaust its
+multitudinous impressions. Like Sindbad in the valley of precious
+stones, he wants to fill his pockets with diamonds, but, lo! there is
+a great ruby like a setting sun in its glory, and a sapphire that, like
+Bryant's blue gentian, seems to have dropped from the cerulean walls
+of heaven, and a nest of pearls that look as if they might be unhatched
+angel's eggs, and so he hardly knows what to seize, and tries for too
+many, and comes out of the enchanted valley with more gems than he can
+carry, and those that he lets fall by the wayside we call his poems. You
+may change the image a thousand ways to show you how hard it is to make
+a mathematician or a logician out of a poet. He carries the tropics with
+him wherever he goes; he is in the true sense felius naturae, and Nature
+tempts him, as she tempts a child walking through a garden where all the
+finest fruits are hanging over him and dropping round him, where
+
+ The luscious clusters of the vine
+ Upon (his) mouth do crush their wine,
+ The nectarine and curious peach,
+ Into (his) hands themselves do reach;
+
+and he takes a bite out of the sunny side of this and the other, and,
+ever stimulated and never satisfied, is hurried through the garden, and,
+before he knows it, finds himself at an iron gate which opens outward,
+and leaves the place he knows and loves--
+
+--For one he will perhaps soon learn to love and know better,--said the
+Master.--But I can help you out with another comparison, not quite so
+poetical as yours. Why did not you think of a railway-station, where the
+cars stop five minutes for refreshments? Is n't that a picture of the
+poet's hungry and hurried feast at the banquet of life? The traveller
+flings himself on the bewildering miscellany of delicacies spread before
+him, the various tempting forms of ambrosia and seducing draughts of
+nectar, with the same eager hurry and restless ardor that you describe
+in the poet. Dear me! If it wasn't for All aboard! that summons of the
+deaf conductor which tears one away from his half-finished sponge-cake
+and coffee, how I, who do not call myself a poet, but only a questioner,
+should have enjoyed a good long stop--say a couple of thousand years--at
+this way-station on the great railroad leading to the unknown terminus!
+
+--You say you are not a poet,--I said, after a little pause, in which I
+suppose both of us were thinking where the great railroad would land us
+after carrying us into the dark tunnel, the farther end of which no man
+has seen and taken a return train to bring us news about it,--you say
+you are not a poet, and yet it seems to me you have some of the elements
+which go to make one.
+
+--I don't think you mean to flatter me,--the Master answered,--and, what
+is more, for I am not afraid to be honest with you, I don't think you do
+flatter me. I have taken the inventory of my faculties as calmly as if I
+were an appraiser. I have some of the qualities, perhaps I may say many
+of the qualities, that make a man a poet, and yet I am not one. And in
+the course of a pretty wide experience of men--and women--(the Master
+sighed, I thought, but perhaps I was mistaken)--I have met a good many
+poets who were not rhymesters and a good many rhymesters who were not
+poets. So I am only one of the Voiceless, that I remember one of you
+singers had some verses about. I think there is a little music in me,
+but it has not found a voice, and it never will. If I should confess the
+truth, there is no mere earthly immortality that I envy so much as the
+poet's. If your name is to live at all, it is so much more to have it
+live in people's hearts than only in their brains! I don't know that
+one's eyes fill with tears when he thinks of the famous inventor of
+logarithms, but song of Burns's or a hymn of Charles Wesley's goes
+straight to your heart, and you can't help loving both of them, the
+sinner as well as the saint. The works of other men live, but their
+personality dies out of their labors; the poet, who reproduces himself
+in his creation, as no other artist does or can, goes down to posterity
+with all his personality blended with whatever is imperishable in his
+song. We see nothing of the bees that built the honeycomb and stored it
+with its sweets, but we can trace the veining in the wings of insects
+that flitted through the forests which are now coal-beds, kept
+unchanging in the amber that holds them; and so the passion of Sappho,
+the tenderness of Simonides, the purity of holy George Herbert, the
+lofty contemplativeness of James Shirley, are before us to-day as if
+they were living, in a few tears of amber verse. It seems, when one
+reads,
+
+ “Sweet day! so cool, so calm, so bright,”
+
+or,
+
+ “The glories of our birth and state,”
+
+as if it were not a very difficult matter to gain immortality,--such an
+immortality at least as a perishable language can give. A single lyric
+is enough, if one can only find in his soul and finish in his intellect
+one of those jewels fit to sparkle “on the stretched forefinger of
+all time.” A coin, a ring, a string of verses. These last, and hardly
+anything else does. Every century is an overloaded ship that must sink
+at last with most of its cargo. The small portion of its crew that get
+on board the new vessel which takes them off don't pretend to save a
+great many of the bulky articles. But they must not and will not leave
+behind the hereditary jewels of the race; and if you have found and cut
+a diamond, were it only a spark with a single polished facet, it will
+stand a better chance of being saved from the wreck than anything, no
+matter what, that wants much room for stowage.
+
+The pyramids last, it is true, but most of them have forgotten their
+builders' names. But the ring of Thothmes III., who reigned some
+fourteen hundred years before our era, before Homer sang, before the
+Argonauts sailed, before Troy was built, is in the possession of Lord
+Ashburnham, and proclaims the name of the monarch who wore it more than
+three thousand years ago. The gold coins with the head of Alexander the
+Great are some of them so fresh one might think they were newer than
+much of the silver currency we were lately handling. As we have been
+quoting from the poets this morning, I will follow the precedent, and
+give some lines from an epistle of Pope to Addison after the latter had
+written, but not yet published, his Dialogue on Medals. Some of these
+lines have been lingering in my memory for a great many years, but I
+looked at the original the other day and was so pleased with them that I
+got them by heart. I think you will say they are singularly pointed and
+elegant.
+
+ “Ambition sighed; she found it vain to trust
+ The faithless column and the crumbling bust;
+ Huge moles, whose shadows stretched from shore to shore,
+ Their ruins perished, and their place no more!
+ Convinced, she now contracts her vast design,
+ And all her triumphs shrink into a coin.
+ A narrow orb each crowded conquest keeps,
+ Beneath her palm here sad Judaea weeps;
+ Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
+ And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
+ A small Euphrates through the piece is rolled,
+ And little eagles wave their wings in gold.”
+
+It is the same thing in literature. Write half a dozen folios full of
+other people's ideas (as all folios are pretty sure to be), and you
+serve as ballast to the lower shelves of a library, about as like to be
+disturbed as the kentledge in the hold of a ship. Write a story, or a
+dozen stories, and your book will be in demand like an oyster while
+it is freshly opened, and after tha--. The highways of literature are
+spread over with the shells of dead novels, each of which has been
+swallowed at a mouthful by the public, and is done with. But write a
+volume of poems. No matter if they are all bad but one, if that one is
+very good. It will carry your name down to posterity like the ring of
+Thothmes, like the coin of Alexander. I don't suppose one would care a
+great deal about it a hundred or a thousand years after he is dead,
+but I don't feel quite sure. It seems as if, even in heaven, King
+David might remember “The Lord is my Shepherd” with a certain twinge of
+earthly pleasure. But we don't know, we don't know.
+
+--What in the world can have become of That Boy and his popgun while all
+this somewhat extended sermonizing was going on? I don't wonder you
+ask, beloved Reader, and I suppose I must tell you how we got on so
+long without interruption. Well, the plain truth is, the youngster was
+contemplating his gastric centre, like the monks of Mount Athos, but in
+a less happy state of mind than those tranquil recluses, in consequence
+of indulgence in the heterogeneous assortment of luxuries procured with
+the five-cent piece given him by the kind-hearted old Master. But you
+need not think I am going to tell you every time his popgun goes
+off, making a Selah of him whenever I want to change the subject.
+Occasionally he was ill-timed in his artillery practice and
+ignominiously rebuked, sometimes he was harmlessly playful and nobody
+minded him, but every now and then he came in so apropos that I am
+morally certain he gets a hint from somebody who watches the course of
+the conversation, and means through him to have a hand in it and stop
+any of us when we are getting prosy. But in consequence of That Boy's
+indiscretion, we were without a check upon our expansiveness, and ran on
+in the way you have observed and may be disposed to find fault with.
+
+One other thing the Master said before we left the table, after our long
+talk of that day.
+
+--I have been tempted sometimes,--said he, to envy the immediate
+triumphs of the singer. He enjoys all that praise can do for him and at
+the very moment of exerting his talent. And the singing women! Once in
+a while, in the course of my life, I have found myself in the midst of
+a tulip-bed of full-dressed, handsome women in all their glory, and when
+some one among them has shaken her gauzy wings, and sat down before
+the piano, and then, only giving the keys a soft touch now and then to
+support her voice, has warbled some sweet, sad melody intertwined with
+the longings or regrets of some tender-hearted poet, it has seemed to me
+that so to hush the rustling of the silks and silence the babble of the
+buds, as they call the chicks of a new season, and light up the flame of
+romance in cold hearts, in desolate ones, in old burnt-out ones,--like
+mine, I was going to say, but I won't, for it isn't so, and you may
+laugh to hear me say it isn't so, if you like,--was perhaps better than
+to be remembered a few hundred years by a few perfect stanzas, when
+your gravestone is standing aslant, and your name is covered over with a
+lichen as big as a militia colonel's cockade, and nobody knows or cares
+enough about you to scrape it off and set the tipsy old slate-stone
+upright again.
+
+--I said nothing in reply to this, for I was thinking of a sweet singer
+to whose voice I had listened in its first freshness, and which is now
+only an echo in my memory. If any reader of the periodical in which
+these conversations are recorded can remember so far back as the first
+year of its publication, he will find among the papers contributed by
+a friend not yet wholly forgotten a few verses, lively enough in their
+way, headed “The Boys.” The sweet singer was one of this company of
+college classmates, the constancy of whose friendship deserves a better
+tribute than the annual offerings, kindly meant, as they are, which for
+many years have not been wanting at their social gatherings. The small
+company counts many noted personages on its list, as is well known to
+those who are interested in such local matters, but it is not known
+that every fifth man of the whole number now living is more or less of
+a poet,--using that word with a generous breadth of significance. But
+it should seem that the divine gift it implies is more freely dispensed
+than some others, for while there are (or were, for one has taken his
+Last Degree) eight musical quills, there was but one pair of lips which
+could claim any special consecration to vocal melody. Not that one that
+should undervalue the half-recitative of doubtful barytones, or
+the brilliant escapades of slightly unmanageable falsettos, or the
+concentrated efforts of the proprietors of two or three effective notes,
+who may be observed lying in wait for them, and coming down on them
+with all their might, and the look on their countenances of “I too am
+a singer.” But the voice that led all, and that all loved to listen to,
+the voice that was at once full, rich, sweet, penetrating, expressive,
+whose ample overflow drowned all the imperfections and made up for all
+the shortcomings of the others, is silent henceforth forevermore for all
+earthly listeners.
+
+And these were the lines that one of “The Boys,” as they have always
+called themselves for ever so many years, read at the first meeting
+after the voice which had never failed them was hushed in the stillness
+of death.
+
+ J. A.
+
+ 1871.
+
+ One memory trembles on our lips
+ It throbs in every breast;
+ In tear-dimmed eyes, in mirth's eclipse,
+ The shadow stands confessed.
+
+ O silent voice, that cheered so long
+ Our manhood's marching day,
+ Without thy breath of heavenly song,
+ How weary seems the way!
+
+ Vain every pictured phrase to tell
+ Our sorrowing hearts' desire;
+ The shattered harp, the broken shell,
+ The silent unstrung lyre;
+
+ For youth was round us while he sang;
+ It glowed in every tone;
+ With bridal chimes the echoes rang,
+ And made the past our own.
+
+ O blissful dream! Our nursery joys
+ We know must have an end,
+ But love and friendships broken toys
+ May God's good angels mend!
+
+ The cheering smile, the voice of mirth
+ And laughter's gay surprise
+ That please the children born of earth,
+ Why deem that Heaven denies?
+
+ Methinks in that refulgent sphere
+ That knows not sun or moon,
+ An earth-born saint might long to hear
+ One verse of “Bonny Doon”;
+
+ Or walking through the streets of gold
+ In Heaven's unclouded light,
+ His lips recall the song of old
+ And hum “The sky is bright.”
+
+ And can we smile when thou art dead?
+ Ah, brothers, even so!
+ The rose of summer will be red,
+ In spite of winter's snow.
+
+ Thou wouldst not leave us all in gloom
+ Because thy song is still,
+ Nor blight the banquet-garland's bloom
+ With grief's untimely chill.
+
+ The sighing wintry winds complain,
+ The singing bird has flown,
+ --Hark! heard I not that ringing strain,
+ That clear celestial tone?
+
+ How poor these pallid phrases seem,
+ How weak this tinkling line,
+ As warbles through my waking dream
+ That angel voice of thine!
+
+ Thy requiem asks a sweeter lay;
+ It falters on my tongue;
+ For all we vainly strive to say,
+ Thou shouldst thyself have sung!
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+I fear that I have done injustice in my conversation and my report of it
+to a most worthy and promising young man whom I should be very sorry to
+injure in any way. Dr. Benjamin Franklin got hold of my account of my
+visit to him, and complained that I had made too much of the expression
+he used. He did not mean to say that he thought I was suffering from the
+rare disease he mentioned, but only that the color reminded him of it.
+It was true that he had shown me various instruments, among them one
+for exploring the state of a part by means of a puncture, but he did not
+propose to make use of it upon my person. In short, I had colored the
+story so as to make him look ridiculous.
+
+--I am afraid I did,--I said,--but was n't I colored myself so as to
+look ridiculous? I've heard it said that people with the jaundice see
+everything yellow; perhaps I saw things looking a little queerly, with
+that black and blue spot I could n't account for threatening to make
+a colored man and brother of me. But I am sorry if I have done you any
+wrong. I hope you won't lose any patients by my making a little fun of
+your meters and scopes and contrivances. They seem so odd to us outside
+people. Then the idea of being bronzed all over was such an alarming
+suggestion. But I did not mean to damage your business, which I trust is
+now considerable, and I shall certainly come to you again if I have
+need of the services of a physician. Only don't mention the names of any
+diseases in English or Latin before me next time. I dreamed about cutis
+oenea half the night after I came to see you.
+
+Dr. Benjamin took my apology very pleasantly. He did not want to be
+touchy about it, he said, but he had his way to make in the world, and
+found it a little hard at first, as most young men did. People were
+afraid to trust them, no matter how much they knew. One of the old
+doctors asked him to come in and examine a patient's heart for him the
+other day. He went with him accordingly, and when they stood by the
+bedside, he offered his stethoscope to the old doctor. The old doctor
+took it and put the wrong end to his ear and the other to the patient's
+chest, and kept it there about two minutes, looking all the time as wise
+as an old owl. Then he, Dr. Benjamin, took it and applied it properly,
+and made out where the trouble was in no time at all. But what was the
+use of a young man's pretending to know anything in the presence of an
+old owl? I saw by their looks, he said, that they all thought I used the
+stethoscope wrong end up, and was nothing but a 'prentice hand to the
+old doctor.
+
+--I am much pleased to say that since Dr. Benjamin has had charge of a
+dispensary district, and been visiting forty or fifty patients a day, I
+have reason to think he has grown a great deal more practical than when
+I made my visit to his office. I think I was probably one of his first
+patients, and that he naturally made the most of me. But my second trial
+was much more satisfactory. I got an ugly cut from the carving-knife in
+an affair with a goose of iron constitution in which I came off second
+best. I at once adjourned with Dr. Benjamin to his small office, and put
+myself in his hands. It was astonishing to see what a little experience
+of miscellaneous practice had done for him. He did not ask me anymore
+questions about my hereditary predispositions on the paternal and
+maternal sides. He did not examine me with the stethoscope or the
+laryngoscope. He only strapped up my cut, and informed me that it would
+speedily get well by the “first intention,”--an odd phrase enough, but
+sounding much less formidable than cutis oenea.
+
+I am afraid I have had something of the French prejudice which embodies
+itself in the maxim “young surgeon, old physician.” But a young
+physician who has been taught by great masters of the profession, in
+ample hospitals, starts in his profession knowing more than some old
+doctors have learned in a lifetime. Give him a little time to get the
+use of his wits in emergencies, and to know the little arts that do so
+much for a patient's comfort,--just as you give a young sailor time to
+get his sea-legs on and teach his stomach to behave itself,--and he will
+do well enough.
+
+The old Master knows ten times more about this matter and about all the
+professions, as he does about everything else, than I do. My opinion is
+that he has studied two, if not three, of these professions in a regular
+course. I don't know that he has ever preached, except as Charles Lamb
+said Coleridge always did, for when he gets the bit in his teeth he runs
+away with the conversation, and if he only took a text his talk would be
+a sermon; but if he has not preached, he has made a study of theology,
+as many laymen do. I know he has some shelves of medical books in his
+library, and has ideas on the subject of the healing art. He confesses
+to having attended law lectures and having had much intercourse with
+lawyers. So he has something to say on almost any subject that happens
+to come up. I told him my story about my visit to the young doctor, and
+asked him what he thought of youthful practitioners in general and of
+Dr. Benjamin in particular.
+
+I 'll tell you what,--the Master said,--I know something about these
+young fellows that come home with their heads full of “science,” as they
+call it, and stick up their signs to tell people they know how to cure
+their headaches and stomach-aches. Science is a first-rate piece of
+furniture for a man's upper chamber, if he has common sense on the
+ground-floor. But if a man has n't got plenty of good common sense, the
+more science he has the worse for his patient.
+
+--I don't know that I see exactly how it is worse for the patient,--I
+said.
+
+--Well, I'll tell you, and you'll find it's a mighty simple matter. When
+a person is sick, there is always something to be done for him, and done
+at once. If it is only to open or shut a window, if it is only to tell
+him to keep on doing just what he is doing already, it wants a man
+to bring his mind right down to the fact of the present case and its
+immediate needs. Now the present case, as the doctor sees it, is just
+exactly such a collection of paltry individual facts as never was
+before,--a snarl and tangle of special conditions which it is his
+business to wind as much thread out of as he can. It is a good deal as
+when a painter goes to take the portrait of any sitter who happens to
+send for him. He has seen just such noses and just such eyes and just
+such mouths, but he never saw exactly such a face before, and his
+business is with that and no other person's,--with the features of the
+worthy father of a family before him, and not with the portraits he has
+seen in galleries or books, or Mr. Copley's grand pictures of the fine
+old Tories, or the Apollos and Jupiters of Greek sculpture. It is the
+same thing with the patient. His disease has features of its own; there
+never was and never will be another case in all respects exactly like
+it. If a doctor has science without common sense, he treats a fever, but
+not this man's fever. If he has common sense without science, he treats
+this man's fever without knowing the general laws that govern all fevers
+and all vital movements. I 'll tell you what saves these last fellows.
+They go for weakness whenever they see it, with stimulants and
+strengtheners, and they go for overaction, heat, and high pulse, and
+the rest, with cooling and reducing remedies. That is three quarters of
+medical practice. The other quarter wants science and common sense too.
+But the men that have science only, begin too far back, and, before
+they get as far as the case in hand, the patient has very likely gone
+to visit his deceased relatives. You remember Thomas Prince's
+“Chronological History of New England,” I suppose? He begins, you
+recollect, with Adam, and has to work down five thousand six hundred
+and twenty-four years before he gets to the Pilgrim fathers and the
+Mayflower. It was all very well, only it did n't belong there, but got
+in the way of something else. So it is with “science” out of place. By
+far the larger part of the facts of structure and function you find in
+the books of anatomy and physiology have no immediate application to the
+daily duties of the practitioner. You must learn systematically, for
+all that; it is the easiest way and the only way that takes hold of
+the memory, except mere empirical repetition, like that of the
+handicraftsman. Did you ever see one of those Japanese figures with the
+points for acupuncture marked upon it?
+
+--I had to own that my schooling had left out that piece of information.
+
+Well, I 'll tell you about it. You see they have a way of pushing
+long, slender needles into you for the cure of rheumatism and other
+complaints, and it seems there is a choice of spots for the operation,
+though it is very strange how little mischief it does in a good many
+places one would think unsafe to meddle with. So they had a doll made,
+and marked the spots where they had put in needles without doing any
+harm. They must have had accidents from sticking the needles into the
+wrong places now and then, but I suppose they did n't say a great deal
+about those. After a time, say a few centuries of experience, they
+had their doll all spotted over with safe places for sticking in the
+needles. That is their way of registering practical knowledge: We,
+on the other hand, study the structure of the body as a whole,
+systematically, and have no difficulty at all in remembering the track
+of the great vessels and nerves, and knowing just what tracks will be
+safe and what unsafe. It is just the same thing with the geologists.
+Here is a man close by us boring for water through one of our ledges,
+because somebody else got water somewhere else in that way; and a person
+who knows geology or ought to know it, because he has given his life to
+it, tells me he might as well bore there for lager-beer as for water.
+
+--I thought we had had enough of this particular matter, and that
+I should like to hear what the Master had to say about the three
+professions he knew something about, each compared with the others.
+
+What is your general estimate of doctors, lawyers, and ministers?--said
+I.
+
+--Wait a minute, till I have got through with your first question,--said
+the Master.--One thing at a time. You asked me about the young doctors,
+and about our young doctor. They come home tres biens chausses, as a
+Frenchman would say, mighty well shod with professional knowledge. But
+when they begin walking round among their poor patients, they don't
+commonly start with millionnaires,--they find that their new shoes of
+scientific acquirements have got to be broken in just like a pair of
+boots or brogans. I don't know that I have put it quite strong enough.
+Let me try again. You've seen those fellows at the circus that get up on
+horseback so big that you wonder how they could climb into the saddle.
+But pretty soon they throw off their outside coat, and the next minute
+another one, and then the one under that, and so they keep peeling off
+one garment after another till people begin to look queer and think they
+are going too far for strict propriety. Well, that is the way a
+fellow with a real practical turn serves a good many of his scientific
+wrappers, flings 'em off for other people to pick up, and goes right
+at the work of curing stomach-aches and all the other little mean
+unscientific complaints that make up the larger part of every doctor's
+business. I think our Dr. Benjamin is a worthy young man, and if you are
+in need of a doctor at any time I hope you will go to him; and if you
+come off without harm, I will recommend some other friend to try him.
+
+--I thought he was going to say he would try him in his own person, but
+the Master is not fond of committing himself.
+
+Now, I will answer your other question, he said. The lawyers are the
+cleverest men, the ministers are the most learned, and the doctors are
+the most sensible.
+
+The lawyers are a picked lot, “first scholars” and the like, but
+their business is as unsympathetic as Jack Ketch's. There is nothing
+humanizing in their relations with their fellow-creatures. They go for
+the side that retains them. They defend the man they know to be a rogue,
+and not very rarely throw suspicion on the man they know to be innocent.
+Mind you, I am not finding fault with them; every side of a case has a
+right to the best statement it admits of; but I say it does not tend
+to make them sympathetic. Suppose in a case of Fever vs. Patient, the
+doctor should side with either party according to whether the old miser
+or his expectant heir was his employer. Suppose the minister should side
+with the Lord or the Devil, according to the salary offered and other
+incidental advantages, where the soul of a sinner was in question. You
+can see what a piece of work it would make of their sympathies. But the
+lawyers are quicker witted than either of the other professions, and
+abler men generally. They are good-natured, or, if they quarrel, their
+quarrels are above-board. I don't think they are as accomplished as the
+ministers, but they have a way of cramming with special knowledge for
+a case which leaves a certain shallow sediment of intelligence in their
+memories about a good many things. They are apt to talk law in mixed
+company, and they have a way of looking round when they make a point,
+as if they were addressing a jury, that is mighty aggravating, as I once
+had occasion to see when one of 'em, and a pretty famous one, put me on
+the witness-stand at a dinner-party once.
+
+The ministers come next in point of talent. They are far more curious
+and widely interested outside of their own calling than either of the
+other professions. I like to talk with 'em. They are interesting men,
+full of good feelings, hard workers, always foremost in good deeds, and
+on the whole the most efficient civilizing class, working downwards from
+knowledge to ignorance, that is,--not so much upwards, perhaps,--that
+we have. The trouble is, that so many of 'em work in harness, and it
+is pretty sure to chafe somewhere. They feed us on canned meats mostly.
+They cripple our instincts and reason, and give us a crutch of doctrine.
+I have talked with a great many of 'em of all sorts of belief, and I
+don't think they are quite so easy in their minds, the greater number of
+them; nor so clear in their convictions, as one would think to hear 'em
+lay down the law in the pulpit. They used to lead the intelligence of
+their parishes; now they do pretty well if they keep up with it, and
+they are very apt to lag behind it. Then they must have a colleague. The
+old minister thinks he can hold to his old course, sailing right into
+the wind's eye of human nature, as straight as that famous old skipper
+John Bunyan; the young minister falls off three or four points and
+catches the breeze that left the old man's sails all shivering. By
+and by the congregation will get ahead of him, and then it must, have
+another new skipper. The priest holds his own pretty well; the minister
+is coming down every generation nearer and nearer to the common level
+of the useful citizen,--no oracle at all, but a man of more than average
+moral instincts, who, if he knows anything, knows how little he knows.
+The ministers are good talkers, only the struggle between nature and
+grace makes some of 'em a little awkward occasionally. The women do
+their best to spoil 'em, as they do the poets; you find it very pleasant
+to be spoiled, no doubt; so do they. Now and then one of 'em goes over
+the dam; no wonder, they're always in the rapids.
+
+By this time our three ladies had their faces all turned toward the
+speaker, like the weathercocks in a northeaster, and I thought it best
+to switch off the talk on to another rail.
+
+How about the doctors?--I said.
+
+--Theirs is the least learned of the professions, in this country at
+least. They have not half the general culture of the lawyers, nor a
+quarter of that of the ministers. I rather think, though, they are more
+agreeable to the common run of people than the men with black coats or
+the men with green bags. People can swear before 'em if they want to,
+and they can't very well before ministers. I don't care whether they
+want to swear or not, they don't want to be on their good behavior.
+Besides, the minister has a little smack of the sexton about him; he
+comes when people are in extremis, but they don't send for him every
+time they make a slight moral slip, tell a lie for instance, or smuggle
+a silk dress through the customhouse; but they call in the doctor when
+a child is cutting a tooth or gets a splinter in its finger. So it does
+n't mean much to send for him, only a pleasant chat about the news of
+the day; for putting the baby to rights does n't take long. Besides,
+everybody does n't like to talk about the next world; people are modest
+in their desires, and find this world as good as they deserve; but
+everybody loves to talk physic. Everybody loves to hear of strange
+cases; people are eager to tell the doctor of the wonderful cures they
+have heard of; they want to know what is the matter with somebody or
+other who is said to be suffering from “a complication of diseases,” and
+above all to get a hard name, Greek or Latin, for some complaint which
+sounds altogether too commonplace in plain English. If you will only
+call a headache a Cephalgia, it acquires dignity at once, and a patient
+becomes rather proud of it. So I think doctors are generally welcome in
+most companies.
+
+In old times, when people were more afraid of the Devil and of witches
+than they are now, they liked to have a priest or a minister somewhere
+near to scare 'em off; but nowadays, if you could find an old woman
+that would ride round the room on a broomstick, Barnum would build an
+amphitheatre to exhibit her in; and if he could come across a young imp,
+with hoofs, tail, and budding horns, a lineal descendant of one of those
+“daemons” which the good people of Gloucester fired at, and were fired
+at by “for the best part of a month together” in the year 1692, the
+great showman would have him at any cost for his museum or menagerie.
+Men are cowards, sir, and are driven by fear as the sovereign motive.
+Men are idolaters, and want something to look at and kiss and hug, or
+throw themselves down before; they always did, they always will; and if
+you don't make it of wood, you must make it of words, which are just
+as much used for idols as promissory notes are used for values. The
+ministers have a hard time of it without bell and book and holy water;
+they are dismounted men in armor since Luther cut their saddle-girths,
+and you can see they are quietly taking off one piece of iron after
+another until some of the best of 'em are fighting the devil (not the
+zoological Devil with the big D) with the sword of the Spirit, and
+precious little else in the way of weapons of offence or defence. But
+we couldn't get on without the spiritual brotherhood, whatever became of
+our special creeds. There is a genius for religion, just as there is for
+painting or sculpture. It is half-sister to the genius for music, and
+has some of the features which remind us of earthly love. But it lifts
+us all by its mere presence. To see a good man and hear his voice once
+a week would be reason enough for building churches and pulpits. The
+Master stopped all at once, and after about half a minute laughed his
+pleasant laugh.
+
+What is it?--I asked him.
+
+I was thinking of the great coach and team that is carrying us fast
+enough, I don't know but too fast, somewhere or other. The D. D.'s used
+to be the leaders, but now they are the wheel-horses. It's pretty hard
+to tell how much they pull, but we know they can hold back like the---
+
+--When we're going down hill,--I said, as neatly as if I had been a
+High-Church curate trained to snap at the last word of the response, so
+that you couldn't wedge in the tail of a comma between the end of the
+congregation's closing syllable and the beginning of the next petition.
+They do it well, but it always spoils my devotion. To save my life, I
+can't help watching them, as I watch to see a duck dive at the flash of
+a gun, and that is not what I go to church for. It is a juggler's trick,
+and there is no more religion in it than in catching a ball on the fly.
+
+I was looking at our Scheherezade the other day, and thinking what a
+pity it was that she had never had fair play in the world. I wish I knew
+more of her history. There is one way of learning it,--making love to
+her. I wonder whether she would let me and like it. It is an absurd
+thing, and I ought not to confess, but I tell you and you only, Beloved,
+my heart gave a perceptible jump when it heard the whisper of that
+possibility overhead! Every day has its ebb and flow, but such a thought
+as that is like one of those tidal waves they talk about, that rolls in
+like a great wall and overtops and drowns out all your landmarks, and
+you, too, if you don't mind what you are about and stand ready to run
+or climb or swim. Not quite so bad as that, though, this time. I take
+an interest in our Scheherezade. I am glad she did n't smile on the pipe
+and the Bohemian-looking fellow that finds the best part of his life in
+sucking at it. A fine thing, isn't it; for a young woman to marry a man
+who will hold her
+
+ “Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse,”
+
+but not quite so good as his meerschaum? It is n't for me to throw
+stones, though, who have been a Nicotian a good deal more than half my
+days. Cigar-stump out now, and consequently have become very bitter on
+more persevering sinners. I say I take an interest in our Scheherezade,
+but I rather think it is more paternal than anything else, though
+my heart did give that jump. It has jumped a good many times without
+anything very remarkable coming of it.
+
+This visit to the Observatory is going to bring us all, or most of us,
+together in a new way, and it wouldn't be very odd if some of us should
+become better acquainted than we ever have been. There is a chance
+for the elective affinities. What tremendous forces they are, if two
+subjects of them come within range! There lies a bit of iron. All the
+dynamic agencies of the universe are pledged to hold it just in that
+position, and there it will lie until it becomes a heap of red-brown
+rust. But see, I hold a magnet to it,--it looks to you like just such a
+bit of iron as the other,--and lo! it leaves them all,--the tugging of
+the mighty earth; of the ghostly moon that walks in white, trailing the
+snaky waves of the ocean after her; of the awful sun, twice as large
+as a sphere that the whole orbit of the moon would but just girdle,--it
+leaves the wrestling of all their forces, which are at a dead lock with
+each other, all fighting for it, and springs straight to the magnet.
+What a lucky thing it is for well-conducted persons that the maddening
+elective affinities don't come into play in full force very often!
+
+I suppose I am making a good deal more of our prospective visit than
+it deserves. It must be because I have got it into my head that we are
+bound to have some kind of sentimental outbreak amongst us, and that
+this will give a chance for advances on the part of anybody disposed
+in that direction. A little change of circumstance often hastens on a
+movement that has been long in preparation. A chemist will show you a
+flask containing a clear liquid; he will give it a shake or two, and the
+whole contents of the flask will become solid in an instant. Or you
+may lay a little heap of iron-filings on a sheet of paper with a magnet
+beneath it, and they will be quiet enough as they are, but give the
+paper a slight jar and the specks of metal will suddenly find their way
+to the north or the south pole of the magnet and take a definite shape
+not unpleasing to contemplate, and curiously illustrating the laws of
+attraction, antagonism, and average, by which the worlds, conscious
+and unconscious, are alike governed. So with our little party, with
+any little party of persons who have got used to each other; leave them
+undisturbed and they might remain in a state of equilibrium forever;
+but let anything give them a shake or a jar, and the long-striving but
+hindered affinities come all at once into play and finish the work of a
+year in five minutes.
+
+We were all a good deal excited by the anticipation of this visit. The
+Capitalist, who for the most part keeps entirely to himself, seemed
+to take an interest in it and joined the group in the parlor who were
+making arrangements as to the details of the eventful expedition, which
+was very soon to take place. The Young Girl was full of enthusiasm;
+she is one of those young persons, I think, who are impressible, and
+of necessity depressible when their nervous systems are overtasked, but
+elastic, recovering easily from mental worries and fatigues, and only
+wanting a little change of their conditions to get back their bloom
+and cheerfulness. I could not help being pleased to see how much of the
+child was left in her, after all the drudgery she had been through. What
+is there that youth will not endure and triumph over? Here she was;
+her story for the week was done in good season; she had got rid of her
+villain by a new and original catastrophe; she had received a sum of
+money for an extra string of verses,--painfully small, it is true, but
+it would buy her a certain ribbon she wanted for the great excursion;
+and now her eyes sparkled so that I forgot how tired and hollow they
+sometimes looked when she had been sitting up half the night over her
+endless manuscript.
+
+The morning of the day we had looked forward to--promised as good an
+evening as we could wish. The Capitalist, whose courteous and bland
+demeanor would never have suggested the thought that he was a robber and
+an enemy of his race, who was to be trampled underfoot by the beneficent
+regenerators of the social order as preliminary to the universal
+reign of peace on earth and good-will to men, astonished us all with
+a proposal to escort the three ladies and procure a carriage for their
+conveyance. The Lady thanked him in a very cordial way, but said she
+thought nothing of the walk. The Landlady looked disappointed at this
+answer. For her part she was on her legs all day and should be glad
+enough to ride, if so be he was going to have a carriage at any rate. It
+would be a sight pleasanter than to trudge afoot, but she would n't have
+him go to the expense on her account. Don't mention it, madam,--r--said
+the Capitalist, in a generous glow of enthusiasm. As for the Young Girl,
+she did not often get a chance for a drive, and liked the idea of it for
+its own sake, as children do, and she insisted that the Lady should go
+in the carriage with her. So it was settled that the Capitalist should
+take the three ladies in a carriage, and the rest of us go on foot.
+
+The evening behaved as it was bound to do on so momentous an occasion.
+The Capitalist was dressed with almost suspicious nicety. We pedestrians
+could not help waiting to see them off, and I thought he handed the
+ladies into the carriage with the air of a French marquis.
+
+I walked with Dr. Benjamin and That Boy, and we had to keep the little
+imp on the trot a good deal of the way in order not to be too long
+behind the carriage party. The Member of the Haouse walked with our
+two dummies,--I beg their pardon, I mean the Register of Deeds and the
+Salesman.
+
+The Man of Letters, hypothetically so called, walked by himself, smoking
+a short pipe which was very far from suggesting the spicy breezes that
+blow soft from Ceylon's isle.
+
+I suppose everybody who reads this paper has visited one or more
+observatories, and of course knows all about them. But as it may
+hereafter be translated into some foreign tongue and circulated among
+barbarous, but rapidly improving people, people who have as yet no
+astronomers among them, it may be well to give a little notion of what
+kind of place an observatory is.
+
+To begin then: a deep and solid stone foundation is laid in the earth,
+and a massive pier of masonry is built up on it. A heavy block of
+granite forms the summit of this pier, and on this block rests the
+equatorial telescope. Around this structure a circular tower is built,
+with two or more floors which come close up to the pier, but do not
+touch it at any point. It is crowned with a hemispherical dome, which, I
+may remark, half realizes the idea of my egg-shell studio. This dome
+is cleft from its base to its summit by a narrow, ribbon-like opening,
+through which is seen the naked sky. It revolves on cannon-balls, so
+easily that a single hand can move it, and thus the opening may be
+turned towards any point of the compass. As the telescope can be raised
+or depressed so as to be directed to any elevation from the horizon to
+the zenith, and turned around the entire circle with the dome, it can be
+pointed to any part of the heavens. But as the star or other celestial
+object is always apparently moving, in consequence of the real rotatory
+movement of the earth, the telescope is made to follow it automatically
+by an ingenious clock-work arrangement. No place, short of the temple of
+the living God, can be more solemn. The jars of the restless life
+around it do not disturb the serene intelligence of the half-reasoning
+apparatus. Nothing can stir the massive pier but the shocks that shake
+the solid earth itself. When an earthquake thrills the planet, the
+massive turret shudders with the shuddering rocks on which it rests,
+but it pays no heed to the wildest tempest, and while the heavens are
+convulsed and shut from the eye of the far-seeing instrument it waits
+without a tremor for the blue sky to come back. It is the type of the
+true and steadfast man of the Roman poet, whose soul remains unmoved
+while the firmament cracks and tumbles about him. It is the material
+image of the Christian; his heart resting on the Rock of Ages, his eye
+fixed on the brighter world above.
+
+I did not say all this while we were looking round among these wonders,
+quite new to many of us. People don't talk in straight-off sentences
+like that. They stumble and stop, or get interrupted, change a word,
+begin again, miss connections of verbs and nouns, and so on, till they
+blunder out their meaning. But I did let fall a word or two, showing the
+impression the celestial laboratory produced upon me. I rather think
+I must own to the “Rock of Ages” comparison. Thereupon the “Man of
+Letters,” so called, took his pipe from his mouth, and said that he did
+n't go in “for sentiment and that sort of thing. Gush was played out.”
+
+The Member of the Haouse, who, as I think, is not wanting in that homely
+good sense which one often finds in plain people from the huckleberry
+districts, but who evidently supposes the last speaker to be what he
+calls “a tahlented mahn,” looked a little puzzled. My remark seemed
+natural and harmless enough to him, I suppose, but I had been distinctly
+snubbed, and the Member of the Haouse thought I must defend myself,
+as is customary in the deliberative body to which he belongs, when one
+gentleman accuses another gentleman of mental weakness or obliquity. I
+could not make up my mind to oblige him at that moment by showing fight.
+I suppose that would have pleased my assailant, as I don't think he has
+a great deal to lose, and might have made a little capital out of me if
+he could have got a laugh out of the Member or either of the dummies,--I
+beg their pardon again, I mean the two undemonstrative boarders. But I
+will tell you, Beloved, just what I think about this matter.
+
+We poets, you know, are much given to indulging in sentiment, which is a
+mode of consciousness at a discount just now with the new generation of
+analysts who are throwing everything into their crucibles. Now we must
+not claim too much for sentiment. It does not go a great way in deciding
+questions of arithmetic, or algebra, or geometry. Two and two
+will undoubtedly make four, irrespective of the emotions or other
+idiosyncrasies of the calculator; and the three angles of a triangle
+insist on being equal to two right angles, in the face of the most
+impassioned rhetoric or the most inspired verse. But inasmuch as
+religion and law and the whole social order of civilized society, to
+say nothing of literature and art, are so founded on and pervaded by
+sentiment that they would all go to pieces without it, it is a word not
+to be used too lightly in passing judgment, as if it were an element
+to be thrown out or treated with small consideration. Reason may be the
+lever, but sentiment gives you the fulcrum and the place to stand on if
+you want to move the world. Even “sentimentality,” which is sentiment
+overdone, is better than that affectation of superiority to human
+weakness which is only tolerable as one of the stage properties of
+full-blown dandyism, and is, at best, but half-blown cynicism; which
+participle and noun you can translate, if you happen to remember the
+derivation of the last of them, by a single familiar word. There is a
+great deal of false sentiment in the world, as there is of bad logic
+and erroneous doctrine; but--it is very much less disagreeable to hear a
+young poet overdo his emotions, or even deceive himself about them,
+than to hear a caustic-epithet flinger repeating such words as
+“sentimentality” and “entusymusy,”--one of the least admirable of Lord
+Byron's bequests to our language,--for the purpose of ridiculing him
+into silence. An overdressed woman is not so pleasing as she might be,
+but at any rate she is better than the oil of vitriol squirter, whose
+profession it is to teach young ladies to avoid vanity by spoiling their
+showy silks and satins.
+
+The Lady was the first of our party who was invited to look through the
+equatorial. Perhaps this world had proved so hard to her that she was
+pained to think that other worlds existed, to be homes of suffering and
+sorrow. Perhaps she was thinking it would be a happy change when she
+should leave this dark planet for one of those brighter spheres. She
+sighed, at any rate, but thanked the Young Astronomer for the beautiful
+sights he had shown her, and gave way to the next comer, who was That
+Boy, now in a state of irrepressible enthusiasm to see the Man in the
+Moon. He was greatly disappointed at not making out a colossal human
+figure moving round among the shining summits and shadowy ravines of the
+“spotty globe.”
+
+The Landlady came next and wished to see the moon also, in preference to
+any other object. She was astonished at the revelations of the powerful
+telescope. Was there any live creatures to be seen on the moon? she
+asked. The Young Astronomer shook his head, smiling a little at the
+question.--Was there any meet'n'-houses? There was no evidence, he said,
+that the moon was inhabited. As there did not seem to be either air or
+water on its surface, the inhabitants would have a rather hard time of
+it, and if they went to meeting the sermons would be apt to be rather
+dry. If there were a building on it as big as York minster, as big as
+the Boston Coliseum, the great telescopes like Lord Rosse's would make
+it out. But it seemed to be a forlorn place; those who had studied it
+most agreed in considering it a “cold, crude, silent, and desolate” ruin
+of nature, without the possibility, if life were on it, of articulate
+speech, of music, even of sound. Sometimes a greenish tint was seen
+upon its surface, which might have been taken for vegetation, but it was
+thought not improbably to be a reflection from the vast forests of South
+America. The ancients had a fancy, some of them, that the face of the
+moon was a mirror in which the seas and shores of the earth were imaged.
+Now we know the geography of the side toward us about as well as that of
+Asia, better than that of Africa. The Astronomer showed them one of
+the common small photographs of the moon. He assured them that he had
+received letters inquiring in all seriousness if these alleged lunar
+photographs were not really taken from a peeled orange. People had got
+angry with him for laughing at them for asking such a question. Then
+he gave them an account of the famous moon-hoax which came out, he
+believed, in 1835. It was full of the most bare-faced absurdities,
+yet people swallowed it all, and even Arago is said to have treated it
+seriously as a thing that could not well be true, for Mr. Herschel would
+have certainly notified him of these marvellous discoveries. The writer
+of it had not troubled himself to invent probabilities, but had borrowed
+his scenery from the Arabian Nights and his lunar inhabitants from Peter
+Wilkins.
+
+After this lecture the Capitalist stepped forward and applied his eye to
+the lens. I suspect it to have been shut most of the time, for I observe
+a good many elderly people adjust the organ of vision to any optical
+instrument in that way. I suppose it is from the instinct of protection
+to the eye, the same instinct as that which makes the raw militia-man
+close it when he pulls the trigger of his musket the first time. He
+expressed himself highly gratified, however, with what he saw, and
+retired from the instrument to make room for the Young Girl.
+
+She threw her hair back and took her position at the instrument.
+Saint Simeon Stylites the Younger explained the wonders of the moon to
+her,--Tycho and the grooves radiating from it, Kepler and Copernicus
+with their craters and ridges, and all the most brilliant shows of
+this wonderful little world. I thought he was more diffuse and more
+enthusiastic in his descriptions than he had been with the older members
+of the party. I don't doubt the old gentleman who lived so long on the
+top of his pillar would have kept a pretty sinner (if he could have had
+an elevator to hoist her up to him) longer than he would have kept her
+grandmother. These young people are so ignorant, you know. As for our
+Scheherezade, her delight was unbounded, and her curiosity insatiable.
+If there were any living creatures there, what odd things they must be.
+They could n't have any lungs, nor any hearts. What a pity! Did they
+ever die? How could they expire if they didn't breathe? Burn up? No air
+to burn in. Tumble into some of those horrid pits, perhaps, and break
+all to bits. She wondered how the young people there liked it, or
+whether there were any young people there; perhaps nobody was young and
+nobody was old, but they were like mummies all of them--what an idea
+--two mummies making love to each other! So she went on in a rattling,
+giddy kind of way, for she was excited by the strange scene in which
+she found herself, and quite astonished the Young Astronomer with her
+vivacity. All at once she turned to him.
+
+Will you show me the double star you said I should see?
+
+With the greatest pleasure,--he said, and proceeded to wheel the
+ponderous dome, and then to adjust the instrument, I think to the one in
+Andromeda, or that in Cygnus, but I should not know one of them from the
+other.
+
+How beautiful!--she said as she looked at the wonderful object.--One is
+orange red and one is emerald green.
+
+The young man made an explanation in which he said something about
+complementary colors.
+
+Goodness!--exclaimed the Landlady.--What! complimentary to our party?
+
+Her wits must have been a good deal confused by the strange sights of
+the evening. She had seen tickets marked complimentary, she remembered,
+but she could not for the life of her understand why our party should be
+particularly favored at a celestial exhibition like this. On the whole,
+she questioned inwardly whether it might not be some subtle pleasantry,
+and smiled, experimentally, with a note of interrogation in the smile,
+but, finding no encouragement, allowed her features to subside gradually
+as if nothing had happened. I saw all this as plainly as if it had all
+been printed in great-primer type, instead of working itself out in her
+features. I like to see other people muddled now and then, because
+my own occasional dulness is relieved by a good solid background of
+stupidity in my neighbors.
+
+--And the two revolve round each other?--said the Young Girl.
+
+--Yes,--he answered,--two suns, a greater and a less, each shining, but
+with a different light, for the other.
+
+--How charming! It must be so much pleasanter than to be alone in such a
+great empty space! I should think one would hardly care to shine if its
+light wasted itself in the monstrous solitude of the sky. Does not a
+single star seem very lonely to you up there?
+
+--Not more lonely than I am myself,--answered the Young Astronomer.
+
+--I don't know what there was in those few words, but I noticed that
+for a minute or two after they, were uttered I heard the ticking of the
+clock-work that moved the telescope as clearly as if we had all been
+holding our breath, and listening for the music of the spheres.
+
+The Young Girl kept her eye closely applied to the eye-piece of
+the telescope a very long time, it seemed to me. Those double stars
+interested her a good deal, no doubt. When she looked off from the glass
+I thought both her eyes appeared very much as if they had been a little
+strained, for they were suffused and glistening. It may be that she
+pitied the lonely young man.
+
+I know nothing in the world tenderer than the pity that a kind-hearted
+young girl has for a young man who feels lonely. It is true that these
+dear creatures are all compassion for every form of human woe,
+and anxious to alleviate all human misfortunes. They will go to
+Sunday-schools through storms their brothers are afraid of, to teach the
+most unpleasant and intractable classes of little children the age of
+Methuselah and the dimensions of Og the King of Bashan's bedstead. They
+will stand behind a table at a fair all day until they are ready to
+drop, dressed in their prettiest clothes and their sweetest smiles, and
+lay hands upon you, like--so many Lady Potiphars,--perfectly correct
+ones, of course,--to make you buy what you do not want, at prices which
+you cannot afford; all this as cheerfully as if it were not martyrdom
+to them as well as to you. Such is their love for all good objects, such
+their eagerness to sympathize with all their suffering fellow-creatures!
+But there is nothing they pity as they pity a lonely young man.
+
+I am sure, I sympathize with her in this instance. To see a pale student
+burning away, like his own midnight lamp, with only dead men's hands to
+hold, stretched out to him from the sepulchres of books, and dead men's
+souls imploring him from their tablets to warm them over again just for
+a little while in a human consciousness, when all this time there are
+soft, warm, living hands that would ask nothing better than to bring the
+blood back into those cold thin fingers, and gently caressing natures
+that would wind all their tendrils about the unawakened heart which
+knows so little of itself, is pitiable enough and would be sadder still
+if we did not have the feeling that sooner or later the pale student
+will be pretty sure to feel the breath of a young girl against his cheek
+as she looks over his shoulder; and that he will come all at once to an
+illuminated page in his book that never writer traced in characters,
+and never printer set up in type, and never binder enclosed within his
+covers! But our young man seems farther away from life than any student
+whose head is bent downwards over his books. His eyes are turned away
+from all human things. How cold the moonlight is that falls upon his
+forehead, and how white he looks in it! Will not the rays strike
+through to his brain at last, and send him to a narrower cell than this
+egg-shell dome which is his workshop and his prison?
+
+I cannot say that the Young Astronomer seemed particularly impressed
+with a sense of his miserable condition. He said he was lonely, it is
+true, but he said it in a manly tone, and not as if he were repining
+at the inevitable condition of his devoting himself to that particular
+branch of science. Of course, he is lonely, the most lonely being that
+lives in the midst of our breathing world. If he would only stay a
+little longer with us when we get talking; but he is busy almost always
+either in observation or with his calculations and studies, and when the
+nights are fair loses so much sleep that he must make it up by day. He
+wants contact with human beings. I wish he would change his seat and
+come round and sit by our Scheherezade!
+
+The rest of the visit went off well enough, except that the “Man of
+Letters,” so called, rather snubbed some of the heavenly bodies as
+not quite up to his standard of brilliancy. I thought myself that the
+double-star episode was the best part of it.
+
+I have an unexpected revelation to make to the reader. Not long after
+our visit to the Observatory, the Young Astronomer put a package into my
+hands, a manuscript, evidently, which he said he would like to have me
+glance over. I found something in it which interested me, and told him
+the next day that I should like to read it with some care. He seemed
+rather pleased at this, and said that he wished I would criticise it as
+roughly as I liked, and if I saw anything in it which might be dressed
+to better advantage to treat it freely, just as if it were my own
+production. It had often happened to him, he went on to say, to be
+interrupted in his observations by clouds covering the objects he was
+examining for a longer or shorter time. In these idle moments he had put
+down many thoughts, unskilfully he feared, but just as they came into
+his mind. His blank verse he suspected was often faulty. His thoughts he
+knew must be crude, many of them. It would please him to have me amuse
+myself by putting them into shape. He was kind enough to say that I was
+an artist in words, but he held himself as an unskilled apprentice.
+
+I confess I was appalled when I cast my eye upon the title of the
+manuscript, “Cirri and Nebulae.”
+
+--Oh! oh!--I said,--that will never do. People don't know what
+Cirri are, at least not one out of fifty readers. “Wind-Clouds and
+Star-Drifts” will do better than that.
+
+--Anything you like,--he answered,--what difference does it make how you
+christen a foundling? These are not my legitimate scientific offspring,
+and you may consider them left on your doorstep.
+
+--I will not attempt to say just how much of the diction of these lines
+belongs to him, and how much to me. He said he would never claim them,
+after I read them to him in my version. I, on my part, do not wish to be
+held responsible for some of his more daring thoughts, if I should see
+fit to reproduce them hereafter. At this time I shall give only the
+first part of the series of poetical outbreaks for which the young
+devotee of science must claim his share of the responsibility. I may put
+some more passages into shape by and by.
+
+ WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.
+
+ I
+
+ Another clouded night; the stars are hid,
+ The orb that waits my search is hid with them.
+ Patience! Why grudge an hour, a month, a year,
+ To plant my ladder and to gain the round
+ That leads my footsteps to the heaven of fame,
+ Where waits the wreath my sleepless midnights won?
+ Not the stained laurel such as heroes wear
+ That withers when some stronger conqueror's heel
+ Treads down their shrivelling trophies in the dust;
+ But the fair garland whose undying green
+ Not time can change, nor wrath of gods or men!
+
+ With quickened heart-beats I shall hear the tongues
+ That speak my praise; but better far the sense
+ That in the unshaped ages, buried deep
+ In the dark mines of unaccomplished time
+ Yet to be stamped with morning's royal die
+ And coined in golden days,--in those dim years
+ I shall be reckoned with the undying dead,
+ My name emblazoned on the fiery arch,
+ Unfading till the stars themselves shall fade.
+ Then, as they call the roll of shining worlds,
+ Sages of race unborn in accents new
+ Shall count me with the Olympian ones of old,
+ Whose glories kindle through the midnight sky
+ Here glows the God of Battles; this recalls
+ The Lord of Ocean, and yon far-off sphere
+ The Sire of Him who gave his ancient name
+ To the dim planet with the wondrous rings;
+ Here flames the Queen of Beauty's silver lamp,
+ And there the moon-girt orb of mighty Jove;
+ But this, unseen through all earth's aeons past,
+ A youth who watched beneath the western star
+ Sought in the darkness, found, and showed to men;
+ Linked with his name thenceforth and evermore!
+ So shall that name be syllabled anew
+ In all the tongues of all the tribes of men:
+ I that have been through immemorial years
+ Dust in the dust of my forgotten time
+ Shall live in accents shaped of blood-warm breath,
+ Yea, rise in mortal semblance, newly born
+ In shining stone, in undecaying bronze,
+ And stand on high, and look serenely down
+ On the new race that calls the earth its own.
+
+ Is this a cloud, that, blown athwart my soul,
+ Wears a false seeming of the pearly stain
+ Where worlds beyond the world their mingling rays
+ Blend in soft white,--a cloud that, born of earth,
+ Would cheat the soul that looks for light from heaven?
+ Must every coral-insect leave his sign
+ On each poor grain he lent to build the reef,
+ As Babel's builders stamped their sunburnt clay,
+ Or deem his patient service all in vain?
+ What if another sit beneath the shade
+ Of the broad elm I planted by the way,
+ --What if another heed the beacon light
+ I set upon the rock that wrecked my keel,
+ Have I not done my task and served my kind?
+ Nay, rather act thy part, unnamed, unknown,
+ And let Fame blow her trumpet through the world
+ With noisy wind to swell a fool's renown,
+ Joined with some truth be stumbled blindly o'er,
+ Or coupled with some single shining deed
+ That in the great account of all his days
+ Will stand alone upon the bankrupt sheet
+ His pitying angel shows the clerk of Heaven.
+ The noblest service comes from nameless hands,
+ And the best servant does his work unseen.
+ Who found the seeds of fire and made them shoot,
+ Fed by his breath, in buds and flowers of flame?
+ Who forged in roaring flames the ponderous stone,
+ And shaped the moulded metal to his need?
+ Who gave the dragging car its rolling wheel,
+ And tamed the steed that whirls its circling round?
+ All these have left their work and not their names,
+ Why should I murmur at a fate like theirs?
+ This is the heavenly light; the pearly stain
+ Was but a wind-cloud drifting oer the stars!
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+I find I have so many things in common with the old Master of Arts, that
+I do not always know whether a thought was originally his or mine. That
+is what always happens where two persons of a similar cast of mind talk
+much together. And both of them often gain by the interchange. Many
+ideas grow better when transplanted into another mind than in the one
+where they sprang up. That which was a weed in one intelligence becomes
+a flower in the other. A flower, on the other hand, may dwindle down to
+a mere weed by the same change. Healthy growths may become poisonous by
+falling upon the wrong mental soil, and what seemed a night-shade in one
+mind unfold as a morning-glory in the other.
+
+--I thank God,--the Master said,--that a great many people believe a
+great deal more than I do. I think, when it comes to serious matters,
+I like those who believe more than I do better than those who believe
+less.
+
+--Why,--said I,--you have got hold of one of my own working axioms. I
+should like to hear you develop it.
+
+The Member of the Haouse said he should be glad to listen to the debate.
+The gentleman had the floor. The Scarabee rose from his chair and
+departed;--I thought his joints creaked as he straightened himself.
+
+The Young Girl made a slight movement; it was a purely accidental
+coincidence, no doubt, but I saw That Boy put his hand in his pocket
+and pull out his popgun, and begin loading it. It cannot be that our
+Scheherezade, who looks so quiet and proper at the table, can make use
+of That Boy and his catapult to control the course of conversation and
+change it to suit herself! She certainly looks innocent enough; but what
+does a blush prove, and what does its absence prove, on one of these
+innocent faces? There is nothing in all this world that can lie and
+cheat like the face and the tongue of a young girl. Just give her a
+little touch of hysteria,--I don't mean enough of it to make her friends
+call the doctor in, but a slight hint of it in the nervous system,--and
+“Machiavel the waiting-maid” might take lessons of her. But I cannot
+think our Scheherezade is one of that kind, and I am ashamed of
+myself for noting such a trifling coincidence as that which excited my
+suspicion.
+
+--I say,--the Master continued,--that I had rather be in the company of
+those who believe more than I do, in spiritual matters at least, than of
+those who doubt what I accept as a part of my belief.
+
+--To tell the truth,--said I,--I find that difficulty sometimes in
+talking with you. You have not quite so many hesitations as I have in
+following out your logical conclusions. I suppose you would bring some
+things out into daylight questioning that I had rather leave in
+that twilight of half-belief peopled with shadows--if they are only
+shadows--more sacred to me than many realities.
+
+There is nothing I do not question,--said the Master;--I not only begin
+with the precept of Descartes, but I hold all my opinions involving any
+chain of reasoning always open to revision.
+
+--I confess that I smiled internally to hear him say that. The old
+Master thinks he is open to conviction on all subjects; but if you
+meddle with some of his notions and don't get tossed on his horns as if
+a bull had hold of you, I should call you lucky.
+
+--You don't mean you doubt everything?--I said.
+
+--What do you think I question everything for, the Master replied,--if I
+never get any answers? You've seen a blind man with a stick, feeling
+his way along? Well, I am a blind man with a stick, and I find the world
+pretty full of men just as blind as I am, but without any stick. I try
+the ground to find out whether it is firm or not before I rest my weight
+on it; but after it has borne my weight, that question at least is
+answered. It very certainly was strong enough once; the presumption is
+that it is strong enough now. Still the soil may have been undermined,
+or I may have grown heavier. Make as much of that as you will. I say
+I question everything; but if I find Bunker Hill Monument standing as
+straight as when I leaned against it a year or ten years ago, I am not
+very much afraid that Bunker Hill will cave in if I trust myself again
+on the soil of it.
+
+I glanced off, as one often does in talk.
+
+The Monument is an awful place to visit,--I said.--The waves of time
+are like the waves of the ocean; the only thing they beat against
+without destroying it is a rock; and they destroy that at last. But it
+takes a good while. There is a stone now standing in very good order
+that was as old as a monument of Louis XIV. and Queen Anne's day is
+now when Joseph went down into Egypt. Think of the shaft on Bunker Hill
+standing in the sunshine on the morning of January 1st in the year 5872!
+
+It won't be standing,--the Master said.--We are poor bunglers compared
+to those old Egyptians. There are no joints in one of their obelisks.
+They are our masters in more ways than we know of, and in more ways than
+some of us are willing to know. That old Lawgiver wasn't learned in all
+the wisdom of the Egyptians for nothing. It scared people well a couple
+of hundred years ago when Sir John Marsham and Dr. John Spencer ventured
+to tell their stories about the sacred ceremonies of the Egyptian
+priesthood. People are beginning to find out now that you can't study
+any religion by itself to any good purpose. You must have comparative
+theology as you have comparative anatomy. What would you make of a cat's
+foolish little good-for-nothing collar-bone, if you did not know how
+the same bone means a good deal in other creatures,--in yourself, for
+instance, as you 'll find out if you break it? You can't know too much
+of your race and its beliefs, if you want to know anything about your
+Maker. I never found but one sect large enough to hold the whole of me.
+
+--And may I ask what that was?--I said.
+
+--The Human sect,--the Master answered. That has about room enough for
+me,--at present, I mean to say.
+
+--Including cannibals and all?--said I.
+
+-Oh, as to that, the eating of one's kind is a matter of taste, but the
+roasting of them has been rather more a specialty of our own particular
+belief than of any other I am acquainted with. If you broil a saint, I
+don't see why, if you have a mind, you shouldn't serve him up at your--
+
+Pop! went the little piece of artillery. Don't tell me it was accident.
+I know better. You can't suppose for one minute that a boy like that
+one would time his interruptions so cleverly. Now it so happened that
+at that particular moment Dr. B. Franklin was not at the table. You may
+draw your own conclusions. I say nothing, but I think a good deal.
+
+--I came back to the Bunker Hill Monument.--I often think--I said--of
+the dynasty which is to reign in its shadow for some thousands of years,
+it may be.
+
+The “Man of Letters,” so called, asked me, in a tone I did not exactly
+like, whether I expected to live long enough to see a monarchy take the
+place of a republic in this country.
+
+--No,--said I,--I was thinking of something very different. I was
+indulging a fancy of mine about the Man who is to sit at the foot of the
+monument for one, or it may be two or three thousand years. As long as
+the monument stands and there is a city near it, there will always be
+a man to take the names of visitors and extract some small tribute from
+their pockets, I suppose. I sometimes get thinking of the long,
+unbroken succession of these men, until they come to look like one Man;
+continuous in being, unchanging as the stone he watches, looking upon
+the successive generations of human beings as they come and go, and
+outliving all the dynasties of the world in all probability. It has come
+to such a pass that I never speak to the Man of the Monument without
+wanting to take my hat off and feeling as if I were looking down a vista
+of twenty or thirty centuries.
+
+The “Man of Letters,” so called, said, in a rather contemptuous way,
+I thought, that he had n't got so far as that. He was n't quite up to
+moral reflections on toll-men and ticket-takers. Sentiment was n't his
+tap.
+
+He looked round triumphantly for a response: but the Capitalist was a
+little hard of hearing just then; the Register of Deeds was browsing
+on his food in the calm bovine abstraction of a quadruped, and paid no
+attention; the Salesman had bolted his breakfast, and whisked himself
+away with that peculiar alacrity which belongs to the retail dealer's
+assistant; and the Member of the Haouse, who had sometimes seemed to be
+impressed with his “tahlented mahn's” air of superiority to the rest of
+us, looked as if he thought the speaker was not exactly parliamentary.
+So he failed to make his point, and reddened a little, and was not in
+the best humor, I thought, when he left the table. I hope he will not
+let off any of his irritation on our poor little Scheherezade; but the
+truth is, the first person a man of this sort (if he is what I think
+him) meets, when he is out of humor, has to be made a victim of, and I
+only hope our Young Girl will not have to play Jephthah's daughter.
+
+And that leads me to say, I cannot help thinking that the kind of
+criticism to which this Young Girl has been subjected from some person
+or other, who is willing to be smart at her expense, is hurtful and not
+wholesome. The question is a delicate one. So many foolish persons are
+rushing into print, that it requires a kind of literary police to hold
+them back and keep them in order. Where there are mice there must be
+cats, and where there are rats we may think it worth our while to keep
+a terrier, who will give them a shake and let them drop, with all the
+mischief taken out of them. But the process is a rude and cruel one at
+best, and it too often breeds a love of destructiveness for its own sake
+in those who get their living by it. A poor poem or essay does not do
+much harm after all; nobody reads it who is like to be seriously hurt
+by it. But a sharp criticism with a drop of witty venom in it stings a
+young author almost to death, and makes an old one uncomfortable to no
+purpose. If it were my business to sit in judgment on my neighbors,
+I would try to be courteous, at least, to those who had done any good
+service, but, above all, I would handle tenderly those young authors
+who are coming before the public in the flutter of their first or early
+appearance, and are in the trembling delirium of stage-fright already.
+Before you write that brilliant notice of some alliterative Angelina's
+book of verses, I wish you would try this experiment.
+
+Take half a sheet of paper and copy upon it any of Angelina's
+stanzas,--the ones you were going to make fun of, if you will. Now go
+to your window, if it is a still day, open it, and let the half-sheet
+of paper drop on the outside. How gently it falls through the soft
+air, always tending downwards, but sliding softly, from side to side,
+wavering, hesitating, balancing, until it settles as noiselessly as a
+snow-flake upon the all-receiving bosom of the earth! Just such would
+have been the fate of poor Angelina's fluttering effort, if you had left
+it to itself. It would have slanted downward into oblivion so sweetly
+and softly that she would have never known when it reached that harmless
+consummation.
+
+Our epizoic literature is becoming so extensive that nobody is safe from
+its ad infinitum progeny. A man writes a book of criticisms. A Quarterly
+Review criticises the critic. A Monthly Magazine takes up the critic's
+critic. A Weekly Journal criticises the critic of the critic's
+critic, and a daily paper favors us with some critical remarks on the
+performance of the writer in the Weekly, who has criticised the critical
+notice in the Monthly of the critical essay in the Quarterly on the
+critical work we started with. And thus we see that as each flea “has
+smaller fleas that on him prey,” even the critic himself cannot escape
+the common lot of being bitten. Whether all this is a blessing or a
+curse, like that one which made Pharaoh and all his household run to
+their toilet-tables, is a question about which opinions might differ.
+The physiologists of the time of Moses--if there were vivisectors other
+than priests in those days--would probably have considered that other
+plague, of the frogs, as a fortunate opportunity for science, as this
+poor little beast has been the souffre-douleur of experimenters and
+schoolboys from time immemorial.
+
+But there is a form of criticism to which none will object. It is
+impossible to come before a public so alive with sensibilities as this
+we live in, with the smallest evidence of a sympathetic disposition,
+without making friends in a very unexpected way. Everywhere there are
+minds tossing on the unquiet waves of doubt. If you confess to the same
+perplexities and uncertainties that torture them, they are grateful for
+your companionship. If you have groped your way out of the wilderness
+in which you were once wandering with them, they will follow your
+footsteps, it may be, and bless you as their deliverer. So, all at once,
+a writer finds he has a parish of devout listeners, scattered, it is
+true, beyond the reach of any summons but that of a trumpet like the
+archangel's, to whom his slight discourse may be of more value than the
+exhortations they hear from the pulpit, if these last do not happen to
+suit their special needs. Young men with more ambition and intelligence
+than force of character, who have missed their first steps in life and
+are stumbling irresolute amidst vague aims and changing purposes, hold
+out their hands, imploring to be led into, or at least pointed towards,
+some path where they can find a firm foothold. Young women born into a
+chilling atmosphere of circumstance which keeps all the buds of their
+nature unopened and always striving to get to a ray of sunshine, if
+one finds its way to their neighborhood, tell their stories, sometimes
+simply and touchingly, sometimes in a more or less affected and
+rhetorical way, but still stories of defeated and disappointed instincts
+which ought to make any moderately impressible person feel very tenderly
+toward them.
+
+In speaking privately to these young persons, many of whom have literary
+aspirations, one should be very considerate of their human feelings. But
+addressing them collectively a few plain truths will not give any one
+of them much pain. Indeed, almost every individual among them will feel
+sure that he or she is an exception to those generalities which apply so
+well to the rest.
+
+If I were a literary Pope sending out an Encyclical, I would tell these
+inexperienced persons that nothing is so frequent as to mistake an
+ordinary human gift for a special and extraordinary endowment. The
+mechanism of breathing and that of swallowing are very wonderful, and
+if one had seen and studied them in his own person only, he might
+well think himself a prodigy. Everybody knows these and other
+bodily faculties are common gifts; but nobody except editors and
+school-teachers and here and there a literary than knows how common
+is the capacity of rhyming and prattling in readable prose, especially
+among young women of a certain degree of education. In my character of
+Pontiff, I should tell these young persons that most of them labored
+under a delusion. It is very hard to believe it; one feels so full
+of intelligence and so decidedly superior to one's dull relations and
+schoolmates; one writes so easily and the lines sound so prettily to
+one's self; there are such felicities of expression, just like those we
+hear quoted from the great poets; and besides one has been told by
+so many friends that all one had to do was to print and be famous!
+Delusion, my poor dear, delusion at least nineteen times out of twenty,
+yes, ninety-nine times in a hundred.
+
+But as private father confessor, I always allow as much as I can for the
+one chance in the hundred. I try not to take away all hope, unless the
+case is clearly desperate, and then to direct the activities into some
+other channel.
+
+Using kind language, I can talk pretty freely. I have counselled more
+than one aspirant after literary fame to go back to his tailor's board
+or his lapstone. I have advised the dilettanti, whose foolish friends
+praised their verses or their stories, to give up all their deceptive
+dreams of making a name by their genius, and go to work in the study of
+a profession which asked only for the diligent use of average;
+ordinary talents. It is a very grave responsibility which these unknown
+correspondents throw upon their chosen counsellors. One whom you have
+never seen, who lives in a community of which you know nothing, sends
+you specimens more or less painfully voluminous of his writings, which
+he asks you to read over, think over, and pray over, and send back an
+answer informing him whether fame and fortune are awaiting him as the
+possessor of the wonderful gifts his writings manifest, and whether
+you advise him to leave all,--the shop he sweeps out every morning, the
+ledger he posts, the mortar in which he pounds, the bench at which he
+urges the reluctant plane,--and follow his genius whithersoever it may
+lead him. The next correspondent wants you to mark out a whole course
+of life for him, and the means of judgment he gives you are about as
+adequate as the brick which the simpleton of old carried round as an
+advertisement of the house he had to sell. My advice to all the young
+men that write to me depends somewhat on the handwriting and spelling.
+If these are of a certain character, and they have reached a mature age,
+I recommend some honest manual calling, such as they have very probably
+been bred to, and which will, at least, give them a chance of becoming
+President of the United States by and by, if that is any object to them.
+What would you have done with the young person who called on me a good
+many years ago, so many that he has probably forgotten his literary
+effort,--and read as specimens of his literary workmanship lines like
+those which I will favor you with presently? He was an able-bodied,
+grown-up young person, whose ingenuousness interested me; and I am sure
+if I thought he would ever be pained to see his maiden effort in print,
+I would deny myself the pleasure of submitting it to the reader. The
+following is an exact transcript of the lines he showed me, and which I
+took down on the spot:
+
+ “Are you in the vein for cider?
+ Are you in the tune for pork?
+ Hist! for Betty's cleared the larder
+ And turned the pork to soap.”
+
+Do not judge too hastily this sincere effort of a maiden muse. Here was
+a sense of rhythm, and an effort in the direction of rhyme; here was an
+honest transcript of an occurrence of daily life, told with a certain
+idealizing expression, recognizing the existence of impulses, mysterious
+instincts, impelling us even in the selection of our bodily sustenance.
+But I had to tell him that it wanted dignity of incident and grace of
+narrative, that there was no atmosphere to it, nothing of the light that
+never was and so forth. I did not say this in these very words, but I
+gave him to understand, without being too hard upon him, that he had
+better not desert his honest toil in pursuit of the poet's bays. This,
+it must be confessed, was a rather discouraging case. A young person
+like this may pierce, as the Frenchmen say, by and by, but the chances
+are all the other way.
+
+I advise aimless young men to choose some profession without needless
+delay, and so get into a good strong current of human affairs, and
+find themselves bound up in interests with a compact body of their
+fellow-men.
+
+I advise young women who write to me for counsel,--perhaps I do not
+advise them at all, only sympathize a little with them, and listen to
+what they have to say (eight closely written pages on the average, which
+I always read from beginning to end, thinking of the widow's cruse and
+myself in the character of Elijah) and--and--come now, I don't believe
+Methuselah would tell you what he said in his letters to young ladies,
+written when he was in his nine hundred and sixty-ninth year.
+
+But, dear me! how much work all this private criticism involves! An
+editor has only to say “respectfully declined,” and there is the end of
+it. But the confidential adviser is expected to give the reasons of his
+likes and dislikes in detail, and sometimes to enter into an argument
+for their support. That is more than any martyr can stand, but what
+trials he must go through, as it is! Great bundles of manuscripts, verse
+or prose, which the recipient is expected to read, perhaps to recommend
+to a publisher, at any rate to express a well-digested and agreeably
+flavored opinion about; which opinion, nine times out of ten, disguise
+it as we may, has to be a bitter draught; every form of egotism,
+conceit, false sentiment, hunger for notoriety, and eagerness for
+display of anserine plumage before the admiring public;--all these come
+in by mail or express, covered with postage-stamps of so much more cost
+than the value of the waste words they overlie, that one comes at last
+to groan and change color at the very sight of a package, and to dread
+the postman's knock as if it were that of the other visitor whose naked
+knuckles rap at every door.
+
+Still there are experiences which go far towards repaying all these
+inflictions. My last young man's case looked desperate enough; some of
+his sails had blown from the rigging, some were backing in the wind, and
+some were flapping and shivering, but I told him which way to head, and
+to my surprise he promised to do just as I directed, and I do not doubt
+is under full sail at this moment.
+
+What if I should tell my last, my very recent experience with the other
+sex? I received a paper containing the inner history of a young woman's
+life, the evolution of her consciousness from its earliest record of
+itself, written so thoughtfully, so sincerely, with so much firmness and
+yet so much delicacy, with such truth of detail and such grace in the
+manner of telling, that I finished the long manuscript almost at a
+sitting, with a pleasure rarely, almost never experienced in voluminous
+communications which one has to spell out of handwriting. This was from
+a correspondent who made my acquaintance by letter when she was little
+more than a child, some years ago. How easy at that early period to have
+silenced her by indifference, to have wounded her by a careless epithet,
+perhaps even to have crushed her as one puts his heel on a weed! A very
+little encouragement kept her from despondency, and brought back one of
+those overflows of gratitude which make one more ashamed of himself
+for being so overpaid than he would be for having committed any of the
+lesser sins. But what pleased me most in the paper lately received was
+to see how far the writer had outgrown the need of any encouragement of
+mine; that she had strengthened out of her tremulous questionings into a
+self-reliance and self-poise which I had hardly dared to anticipate for
+her. Some of my readers who are also writers have very probably had
+more numerous experiences of this kind than I can lay claim to;
+self-revelations from unknown and sometimes nameless friends, who write
+from strange corners where the winds have wafted some stray words of
+theirs which have lighted in the minds and reached the hearts of those
+to whom they were as the angel that stirred the pool of Bethesda.
+Perhaps this is the best reward authorship brings; it may not imply much
+talent or literary excellence, but it means that your way of thinking
+and feeling is just what some one of your fellow-creatures needed.
+
+--I have been putting into shape, according to his request, some further
+passages from the Young Astronomer's manuscript, some of which the
+reader will have a chance to read if he is so disposed. The conflict in
+the young man's mind between the desire for fame and the sense of its
+emptiness as compared with nobler aims has set me thinking about the
+subject from a somewhat humbler point of view. As I am in the habit of
+telling you, Beloved, many of my thoughts, as well as of repeating what
+was said at our table, you may read what follows as if it were addressed
+to you in the course of an ordinary conversation, where I claimed rather
+more than my share, as I am afraid I am a little in the habit of doing.
+
+I suppose we all, those of us who write in verse or prose, have the
+habitual feeling that we should like to be remembered. It is to be awake
+when all of those who were round us have been long wrapped in slumber.
+It is a pleasant thought enough that the name by which we have been
+called shall be familiar on the lips of those who come after us, and the
+thoughts that wrought themselves out in our intelligence, the emotions
+that trembled through our frames, shall live themselves over again in
+the minds and hearts of others.
+
+But is there not something of rest, of calm, in the thought of gently
+and gradually fading away out of human remembrance? What line have we
+written that was on a level with our conceptions? What page of ours that
+does not betray some weakness we would fain have left unrecorded? To
+become a classic and share the life of a language is to be ever open to
+criticisms, to comparisons, to the caprices of successive generations,
+to be called into court and stand a trial before a new jury, once or
+more than once in every century. To be forgotten is to sleep in peace
+with the undisturbed myriads, no longer subject to the chills and heats,
+the blasts, the sleet, the dust, which assail in endless succession that
+shadow of a man which we call his reputation. The line which dying we
+could wish to blot has been blotted out for us by a hand so tender, so
+patient, so used to its kindly task, that the page looks as fair as if
+it had never borne the record of our infirmity or our transgression.
+And then so few would be wholly content with their legacy of fame. You
+remember poor Monsieur Jacques's complaint of the favoritism shown
+to Monsieur Berthier,--it is in that exquisite “Week in a French
+Country-House.” “Have you seen his room? Have you seen how large it is?
+Twice as large as mine! He has two jugs, a large one and a little one.
+I have only one small one. And a tea-service and a gilt Cupid on the
+top of his looking-glass.” The famous survivor of himself has had his
+features preserved in a medallion, and the slice of his countenance
+seems clouded with the thought that it does not belong to a bust; the
+bust ought to look happy in its niche, but the statue opposite makes
+it feel as if it had been cheated out of half its personality, and the
+statue looks uneasy because another stands on a loftier pedestal.
+But “Ignotus” and “Miserrimus” are of the great majority in that vast
+assembly, that House of Commons whose members are all peers, where to be
+forgotten is the standing rule. The dignity of a silent memory is not
+to be undervalued. Fame is after all a kind of rude handling, and a
+name that is often on vulgar lips seems to borrow something not to be
+desired, as the paper money that passes from hand to hand gains somewhat
+which is a loss thereby. O sweet, tranquil refuge of oblivion, so far
+as earth is concerned, for us poor blundering, stammering, misbehaving
+creatures who cannot turn over a leaf of our life's diary without
+feeling thankful that its failure can no longer stare us in the face!
+Not unwelcome shall be the baptism of dust which hides forever the name
+that was given in the baptism of water! We shall have good company whose
+names are left unspoken by posterity. “Who knows whether the best of men
+be known, or whether there be not more remarkable persons forgot than
+any that stand remembered in the known account of time? The greater part
+must be content to be as though they had not been; to be found in the
+register of God, not in the record of man. Twenty-seven names make up
+the first story before the flood, and the recorded names ever since
+contain not one living century.”
+
+I have my moods about such things as the Young Astronomer has, as we all
+have. There are times when the thought of becoming utterly nothing to
+the world we knew so well and loved so much is painful and oppressive;
+we gasp as if in a vacuum, missing the atmosphere of life we have so
+long been in the habit of breathing. Not the less are there moments
+when the aching need of repose comes over us and the requiescat in pace,
+heathen benediction as it is, sounds more sweetly in our ears than all
+the promises that Fame can hold out to us.
+
+I wonder whether it ever occurred to you to reflect upon another horror
+there must be in leaving a name behind you. Think what a horrid piece of
+work the biographers make of a man's private history! Just imagine the
+subject of one of those extraordinary fictions called biographies coming
+back and reading the life of himself, written very probably by somebody
+or other who thought he could turn a penny by doing it, and having the
+pleasure of seeing
+
+ “His little bark attendant sail,
+ Pursue the triumph and partake the gale.”
+
+The ghost of the person condemned to walk the earth in a biography
+glides into a public library, and goes to the shelf where his mummied
+life lies in its paper cerements. I can see the pale shadow glancing
+through the pages and hear the comments that shape themselves in the
+bodiless intelligence as if they were made vocal by living lips.
+
+“Born in July, 1776!” And my honored father killed at the battle of
+Bunker Hill! Atrocious libeller! to slander one's family at the start
+after such a fashion!
+
+“The death of his parents left him in charge of his Aunt Nancy, whose
+tender care took the place of those parental attentions which should
+have guided and protected his infant years, and consoled him for the
+severity of another relative.”
+
+--Aunt Nancy! It was Aunt Betsey, you fool! Aunt Nancy used to--she has
+been dead these eighty years, so there is no use in mincing matters--she
+used to keep a bottle and a stick, and when she had been tasting a drop
+out of the bottle the stick used to come off the shelf and I had to
+taste that. And here she is made a saint of, and poor Aunt Betsey, that
+did everything for me, is slandered by implication as a horrid tyrant.
+
+“The subject of this commemorative history was remarkable for a
+precocious development of intelligence. An old nurse who saw him at the
+very earliest period of his existence is said to have spoken of him as
+one of the most promising infants she had seen in her long experience.
+At school he was equally remarkable, and at a tender age he received a
+paper adorned with a cut, inscribed REWARD OF MERIT.”
+
+--I don't doubt the nurse said that,--there were several promising
+children born about that time. As for cuts, I got more from the
+schoolmaster's rattan than in any other shape. Didn't one of my teachers
+split a Gunter's scale into three pieces over the palm of my hand?
+And didn't I grin when I saw the pieces fly? No humbug, now, about my
+boyhood!
+
+“His personal appearance was not singularly prepossessing. Inconspicuous
+in stature and unattractive in features.”
+
+--You misbegotten son of an ourang and grandson of an ascidian (ghosts
+keep up with science, you observe), what business have you to be holding
+up my person to the contempt of my posterity? Haven't I been sleeping
+for this many a year in quiet, and don't the dandelions and buttercups
+look as yellow over me as over the best-looking neighbor I have in the
+dormitory? Why do you want to people the minds of everybody that reads
+your good-for-nothing libel which you call a “biography” with your
+impudent caricatures of a man who was a better-looking fellow than
+yourself, I 'll bet you ten to one, a man whom his Latin tutor called
+fommosus puer when he was only a freshman? If that's what it means to
+make a reputation,--to leave your character and your person, and the
+good name of your sainted relatives, and all you were, and all you had
+and thought and felt, so far as can be gathered by digging you out
+of your most private records, to be manipulated and bandied about and
+cheapened in the literary market as a chicken or a turkey or a goose is
+handled and bargained over at a provision stall, is n't it better to be
+content with the honest blue slate-stone and its inscription informing
+posterity that you were a worthy citizen and a respected father of a
+family?
+
+--I should like to see any man's biography with corrections and
+emendations by his ghost. We don't know each other's secrets quite so
+well as we flatter ourselves we do. We don't always know our own secrets
+as well as we might. You have seen a tree with different grafts upon it,
+an apple or a pear tree we will say. In the late summer months the fruit
+on one bough will ripen; I remember just such a tree, and the early
+ripening fruit was the Jargonelle. By and by the fruit of another
+bough will begin to come into condition; the lovely Saint Michael, as
+I remember, grew on the same stock as the Jargonelle in the tree I am
+thinking of; and then, when these have all fallen or been gathered,
+another, we will say the Winter Nelis, has its turn, and so out of the
+same juices have come in succession fruits of the most varied aspects
+and flavors. It is the same thing with ourselves, but it takes us a
+long while to find it out. The various inherited instincts ripen in
+succession. You may be nine tenths paternal at one period of your life,
+and nine tenths maternal at another. All at once the traits of some
+immediate ancestor may come to maturity unexpectedly on one of the
+branches of your character, just as your features at different periods
+of your life betray different resemblances to your nearer or more remote
+relatives.
+
+But I want you to let me go back to the Bunker Hill Monument and the
+dynasty of twenty or thirty centuries whose successive representatives
+are to sit in the gate, like the Jewish monarchs, while the people shall
+come by hundreds and by thousands to visit the memorial shaft until the
+story of Bunker's Hill is as old as that of Marathon.
+
+Would not one like to attend twenty consecutive soirees, at each one of
+which the lion of the party should be the Man of the Monument, at the
+beginning of each century, all the way, we will say, from Anno Domini
+2000 to Ann. Dom. 4000,--or, if you think the style of dating will be
+changed, say to Ann. Darwinii (we can keep A. D. you see) 1872? Will the
+Man be of the Indian type, as President Samuel Stanhope Smith and others
+have supposed the transplanted European will become by and by? Will he
+have shortened down to four feet and a little more, like the Esquimaux,
+or will he have been bred up to seven feet by the use of new chemical
+diets, ozonized and otherwise improved atmospheres, and animal
+fertilizers? Let us summon him in imagination and ask him a few
+questions.
+
+Is n't it like splitting a toad out of a rock to think of this man
+of nineteen or twenty centuries hence coming out from his stony
+dwelling-place and speaking with us? What are the questions we should
+ask him? He has but a few minutes to stay. Make out your own list; I
+will set down a few that come up to me as I write.
+
+--What is the prevalent religious creed of civilization?
+
+--Has the planet met with any accident of importance?
+
+--How general is the republican form of government?
+
+--Do men fly yet?
+
+--Has the universal language come into use?
+
+--Is there a new fuel since the English coal-mines have given out?
+
+--Is the euthanasia a recognized branch of medical science?
+
+--Is the oldest inhabitant still living?
+
+--Is the Daily Advertiser still published?
+
+--And the Evening Transcript?
+
+--Is there much inquiry for the works of a writer of the nineteenth
+century (Old Style) by--the name of--of--
+
+My tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth. I cannot imagine the putting
+of that question without feeling the tremors which shake a wooer as
+he falters out the words the answer to which will make him happy or
+wretched.
+
+Whose works was I going to question him about, do you ask me? Oh, the
+writings of a friend of mine, much esteemed by his relatives and others.
+But it's of no consequence, after all; I think he says he does not care
+much for posthumous reputation.
+
+I find something of the same interest in thinking about one of the
+boarders at our table that I find in my waking dreams concerning the
+Man of the Monument. This personage is the Register of Deeds. He is an
+unemotional character, living in his business almost as exclusively as
+the Scarabee, but without any of that eagerness and enthusiasm which
+belong to our scientific specialist. His work is largely, principally,
+I may say, mechanical. He has developed, however, a certain amount of
+taste for the antiquities of his department, and once in a while brings
+out some curious result of his investigations into ancient documents.
+He too belongs to a dynasty which will last as long as there is such a
+thing as property in land and dwellings. When that is done away with,
+and we return to the state of villanage, holding our tenement-houses,
+all to be of the same pattern, of the State, that is to say, of the
+Tammany Ring which is to take the place of the feudal lord,--the office
+of Register of Deeds will, I presume, become useless, and the dynasty
+will be deposed.
+
+As we grow older we think more and more of old persons and of old things
+and places. As to old persons, it seems as if we never know how much
+they have to tell until we are old ourselves and they have been gone
+twenty or thirty years. Once in a while we come upon some survivor of
+his or her generation that we have overlooked, and feel as if we
+had recovered one of the lost books of Livy or fished up the golden
+candlestick from the ooze of the Tiber. So it was the other day after
+my reminiscences of the old gambrel-roofed house and its visitors. They
+found an echo in the recollections of one of the brightest and liveliest
+of my suburban friends, whose memory is exact about everything except
+her own age, which, there can be no doubt, she makes out a score or two
+of years more than it really is. Still she was old enough to touch some
+lights--and a shadow or two--into the portraits I had drawn, which
+made me wish that she and not I had been the artist who sketched the
+pictures. Among the lesser regrets that mingle with graver sorrows for
+the friends of an earlier generation we have lost, are our omissions to
+ask them so many questions they could have answered easily enough, and
+would have been pleased to be asked. There! I say to myself sometimes,
+in an absent mood, I must ask her about that. But she of whom I am now
+thinking has long been beyond the reach of any earthly questioning, and
+I sigh to think how easily I could have learned some fact which I should
+have been happy to have transmitted with pious care to those who are
+to come after me. How many times I have heard her quote the line about
+blessings brightening as they take their flight, and how true it proves
+in many little ways that one never thinks of until it is too late.
+
+The Register of Deeds is not himself advanced in years. But he borrows
+an air of antiquity from the ancient records which are stored in his
+sepulchral archives. I love to go to his ossuary of dead transactions,
+as I would visit the catacombs of Rome or Paris. It is like wandering
+up the Nile to stray among the shelves of his monumental folios. Here
+stands a series of volumes, extending over a considerable number of
+years, all of which volumes are in his handwriting. But as you go
+backward there is a break, and you come upon the writing of another
+person, who was getting old apparently, for it is beginning to be a
+little shaky, and then you know that you have gone back as far as the
+last days of his predecessor. Thirty or forty years more carry you to
+the time when this incumbent began the duties of his office; his hand
+was steady then; and the next volume beyond it in date betrays the work
+of a still different writer. All this interests me, but I do not see how
+it is going to interest my reader. I do not feel very happy about the
+Register of Deeds. What can I do with him? Of what use is he going to be
+in my record of what I have seen and heard at the breakfast-table? The
+fact of his being one of the boarders was not so important that I was
+obliged to speak of him, and I might just as well have drawn on my
+imagination and not allowed this dummy to take up the room which another
+guest might have profitably filled at our breakfast-table.
+
+I suppose he will prove a superfluity, but I have got him on my hands,
+and I mean that he shall be as little in the way as possible. One always
+comes across people in actual life who have no particular business to
+be where we find them, and whose right to be at all is somewhat
+questionable.
+
+I am not going to get rid of the Register of Deeds by putting him out of
+the way; but I confess I do not see of what service he is going to be to
+me in my record. I have often found, however, that the Disposer of men
+and things understands much better than we do how to place his pawns
+and other pieces on the chess-board of life. A fish more or less in the
+ocean does not seem to amount to much. It is not extravagant to say that
+any one fish may be considered a supernumerary. But when Captain
+Coram's ship sprung a leak and the carpenter could not stop it, and the
+passengers had made up their minds that it was all over with them, all
+at once, without any apparent reason, the pumps began gaining on the
+leak, and the sinking ship to lift herself out of the abyss which was
+swallowing her up. And what do you think it was that saved the ship, and
+Captain Coram, and so in due time gave to London that Foundling Hospital
+which he endowed, and under the floor of which he lies buried? Why, it
+was that very supernumerary fish, which we held of so little account,
+but which had wedged itself into the rent of the yawning planks, and
+served to keep out the water until the leak was finally stopped.
+
+I am very sure it was Captain Coram, but I almost hope it was somebody
+else, in order to give some poor fellow who is lying in wait for the
+periodicals a chance to correct me. That will make him happy for a
+month, and besides, he will not want to pick a quarrel about anything
+else if he has that splendid triumph. You remember Alcibiades and his
+dog's tail.
+
+Here you have the extracts I spoke of from the manuscript placed in my
+hands for revision and emendation. I can understand these alternations
+of feeling in a young person who has been long absorbed in a single
+pursuit, and in whom the human instincts which have been long silent
+are now beginning to find expression. I know well what he wants; a great
+deal better, I think, than he knows himself.
+
+ WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.
+
+ II
+
+ Brief glimpses of the bright celestial spheres,
+ False lights, false shadows, vague, uncertain gleams,
+ Pale vaporous mists, wan streaks of lurid flame,
+ The climbing of the upward-sailing cloud,
+ The sinking of the downward-falling star,
+ All these are pictures of the changing moods
+ Borne through the midnight stillness of my soul.
+
+ Here am I, bound upon this pillared rock,
+ Prey to the vulture of a vast desire
+ That feeds upon my life. I burst my bands
+ And steal a moment's freedom from the beak,
+ The clinging talons and the shadowing plumes;
+ Then comes the false enchantress, with her song;
+ “Thou wouldst not lay thy forehead in the dust
+ Like the base herd that feeds and breeds and dies!
+ Lo, the fair garlands that I weave for thee,
+ Unchanging as the belt Orion wears,
+ Bright as the jewels of the seven-starred Crown,
+ The spangled stream of Berenice's hair!”
+ And so she twines the fetters with the flowers
+ Around my yielding limbs, and the fierce bird
+ Stoops to his quarry,--then to feed his rage
+ Of ravening hunger I must drain my blood
+ And let the dew-drenched, poison-breeding night
+ Steal all the freshness from my fading cheek,
+ And leave its shadows round my caverned eyes.
+ All for a line in some unheeded scroll;
+ All for a stone that tells to gaping clowns,
+ “Here lies a restless wretch beneath a clod
+ Where squats the jealous nightmare men call Fame!”
+
+ I marvel not at him who scorns his kind
+ And thinks not sadly of the time foretold
+ When the old hulk we tread shall be a wreck,
+ A slag, a cinder drifting through the sky
+ Without its crew of fools! We live too long
+ And even so are not content to die,
+ But load the mould that covers up our bones
+ With stones that stand like beggars by the road
+ And show death's grievous wound and ask for tears;
+ Write our great books to teach men who we are,
+ Sing our fine songs that tell in artful phrase
+ The secrets of our lives, and plead and pray
+ For alms of memory with the after time,
+ Those few swift seasons while the earth shall wear
+ Its leafy summers, ere its core grows cold
+ And the moist life of all that breathes shall die;
+ Or as the new-born seer, perchance more wise,
+ Would have us deem, before its growing mass,
+ Pelted with stardust, atoned with meteor-balls,
+ Heats like a hammered anvil, till at last Man
+ and his works and all that stirred itself
+ Of its own motion, in the fiery glow
+ Turns to a flaming vapor, and our orb
+ Shines a new sun for earths that shall be born.
+
+ I am as old as Egypt to myself,
+ Brother to them that squared the pyramids
+ By the same stars I watch. I read the page
+ Where every letter is a glittering world,
+ With them who looked from Shinar's clay-built towers,
+ Ere yet the wanderer of the Midland sea
+ Had missed the fallen sister of the seven.
+ I dwell in spaces vague, remote, unknown,
+ Save to the silent few, who, leaving earth,
+ Quit all communion with their living time.
+ I lose myself in that ethereal void,
+ Till I have tired my wings and long to fill
+ My breast with denser air, to stand, to walk
+ With eyes not raised above my fellow-men.
+ Sick of my unwalled, solitary realm,
+ I ask to change the myriad lifeless worlds
+ I visit as mine own for one poor patch
+ Of this dull spheroid and a little breath
+ To shape in word or deed to serve my kind.
+
+ Was ever giant's dungeon dug so deep,
+ Was ever tyrant's fetter forged so strong,
+ Was e'er such deadly poison in the draught
+ The false wife mingles for the trusting fool,
+ As he whose willing victim is himself,
+ Digs, forges, mingles, for his captive soul?
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+I was very sure that the old Master was hard at work about
+something,--he is always very busy with something,--but I mean something
+particular.
+
+Whether it was a question of history or of cosmogony, or whether he was
+handling a test-tube or a blow-pipe; what he was about I did not feel
+sure; but I took it for granted that it was some crucial question or
+other he was at work on, some point bearing on the thought of the time.
+For the Master, I have observed, is pretty sagacious in striking for the
+points where his work will be like to tell. We all know that class of
+scientific laborers to whom all facts are alike nourishing mental food,
+and who seem to exercise no choice whatever, provided only they can get
+hold of these same indiscriminate facts in quantity sufficient. They
+browse on them, as the animal to which they would not like to be
+compared browses on his thistles. But the Master knows the movement of
+the age he belongs to; and if he seems to be busy with what looks like
+a small piece of trivial experimenting, one may feel pretty sure that he
+knows what he is about, and that his minute operations are looking to a
+result that will help him towards attaining his great end in life,--an
+insight, so far as his faculties and opportunities will allow, into that
+order of things which he believes he can study with some prospect of
+taking in its significance.
+
+I became so anxious to know what particular matter he was busy with,
+that I had to call upon him to satisfy my curiosity. It was with a
+little trepidation that I knocked at his door. I felt a good deal as
+one might have felt on disturbing an alchemist at his work, at the very
+moment, it might be, when he was about to make projection.
+
+--Come in!--said the Master in his grave, massive tones.
+
+I passed through the library with him into a little room evidently
+devoted to his experiments.
+
+--You have come just at the right moment,--he said.--Your eyes are
+better than mine. I have been looking at this flask, and I should like
+to have you look at it.
+
+It was a small matrass, as one of the elder chemists would have called
+it, containing a fluid, and hermetically sealed. He held it up at the
+window; perhaps you remember the physician holding a flask to the light
+in Gerard Douw's “Femme hydropique”; I thought of that fine figure as I
+looked at him. Look!--said he,--is it clear or cloudy?
+
+--You need not ask me that,--I answered. It is very plainly turbid. I
+should think that some sediment had been shaken up in it. What is it,
+Elixir Vitae or Aurum potabile?
+
+--Something that means more than alchemy ever did! Boiled just three
+hours, and as clear as a bell until within the last few days; since then
+has been clouding up.
+
+--I began to form a pretty shrewd guess at the meaning of all this,
+and to think I knew very nearly what was coming next. I was right in
+my conjecture. The Master broke off the sealed end of his little flask,
+took out a small portion of the fluid on a glass rod, and placed it on a
+slip of glass in the usual way for a microscopic examination.
+
+--One thousand diameters,--he said, as he placed it on the stage of the
+microscope.--We shall find signs of life, of course.--He bent over the
+instrument and looked but an instant.
+
+--There they are!--he exclaimed,--look in.
+
+I looked in and saw some objects:
+
+The straight linear bodies were darting backward and forward in every
+direction. The wavy ones were wriggling about like eels or water-snakes.
+The round ones were spinning on their axes and rolling in every
+direction. All of them were in a state of incessant activity, as if
+perpetually seeking something and never finding it.
+
+They are tough, the germs of these little bodies, said the Master.
+--Three hours' boiling has n't killed 'em. Now, then, let us see what
+has been the effect of six hours' boiling.
+
+He took up another flask just like the first, containing fluid and
+hermetically sealed in the same way.
+
+--Boiled just three hours longer than the other, he said,--six hours in
+all. This is the experimentum crucis. Do you see any cloudiness in it?
+
+--Not a sign of it; it is as clear as crystal, except that there may be
+a little sediment at the bottom.
+
+--That is nothing. The liquid is clear. We shall find no signs of
+life.--He put a minute drop of the liquid under the microscope as
+before. Nothing stirred. Nothing to be seen but a clear circle of light.
+We looked at it again and again, but with the same result.
+
+--Six hours kill 'em all, according to this experiment,--said the
+Master.--Good as far as it goes. One more negative result. Do you know
+what would have happened if that liquid had been clouded, and we had
+found life in the sealed flask? Sir, if that liquid had held life in it
+the Vatican would have trembled to hear it, and there would have been
+anxious questionings and ominous whisperings in the halls of Lambeth
+palace! The accepted cosmogonies on trial, sir!
+
+Traditions, sanctities, creeds, ecclesiastical establishments, all
+shaking to know whether my little sixpenny flask of fluid looks muddy
+or not! I don't know whether to laugh or shudder. The thought of an
+oecumenical council having its leading feature dislocated by my trifling
+experiment! The thought, again, of the mighty revolution in human
+beliefs and affairs that might grow out of the same insignificant little
+phenomenon. A wine-glassful of clear liquid growing muddy. If we had
+found a wriggle, or a zigzag, or a shoot from one side to the other, in
+this last flask, what a scare there would have been, to be sure, in
+the schools of the prophets! Talk about your megatherium and your
+megalosaurus,--what are these to the bacterium and the vibrio? These are
+the dreadful monsters of today. If they show themselves where they have
+no business, the little rascals frighten honest folks worse than ever
+people were frightened by the Dragon of Rhodes!
+
+The Master gets going sometimes, there is no denying it, until his
+imagination runs away with him. He had been trying, as the reader sees,
+one of those curious experiments in spontaneous generation, as it is
+called, which have been so often instituted of late years, and by
+none more thoroughly than by that eminent American student of nature
+(Professor Jeffries Wyman) whose process he had imitated with a result
+like his.
+
+We got talking over these matters among us the next morning at the
+breakfast-table.
+
+We must agree they couldn't stand six hours' boiling,--I said.
+
+--Good for the Pope of Rome!--exclaimed the Master.
+
+--The Landlady drew back with a certain expression of dismay in her
+countenance. She hoped he did n't want the Pope to make any more
+converts in this country. She had heard a sermon only last Sabbath, and
+the minister had made it out, she thought, as plain as could be, that
+the Pope was the Man of Sin and that the Church of Rome was--Well, there
+was very strong names applied to her in Scripture.
+
+What was good for the Pope was good for your minister, too, my dear
+madam,--said the Master. Good for everybody that is afraid of what
+people call “science.” If it should prove that dead things come to life
+of themselves, it would be awkward, you know, because then somebody will
+get up and say if one dead thing made itself alive another might, and
+so perhaps the earth peopled itself without any help. Possibly the
+difficulty wouldn't be so great as many people suppose. We might perhaps
+find room for a Creator after all, as we do now, though we see a little
+brown seed grow till it sucks up the juices of half an acre of ground,
+apparently all by its own inherent power. That does not stagger us; I am
+not sure that it would if Mr. Crosses or Mr. Weekes's acarus should
+show himself all of a sudden, as they said he did, in certain mineral
+mixtures acted on by electricity.
+
+The Landlady was off soundings, and looking vacant enough by this time.
+
+The Master turned to me.--Don't think too much of the result of our
+one experiment. It means something, because it confirms those other
+experiments of which it was a copy; but we must remember that a hundred
+negatives don't settle such a question. Life does get into the world
+somehow. You don't suppose Adam had the cutaneous unpleasantness
+politely called psora, do you?
+
+--Hardly,--I answered.--He must have been a walking hospital if he
+carried all the maladies about him which have plagued his descendants.
+
+--Well, then, how did the little beast which is peculiar to that special
+complaint intrude himself into the Order of Things? You don't suppose
+there was a special act of creation for the express purpose of bestowing
+that little wretch on humanity, do you?
+
+I thought, on the whole, I would n't answer that question.
+
+--You and I are at work on the same problem, said the Young Astronomer
+to the Master.--I have looked into a microscope now and then, and I
+have seen that perpetual dancing about of minute atoms in a fluid, which
+you call molecular motion. Just so, when I look through my telescope I
+see the star-dust whirling about in the infinite expanse of ether; or
+if I do not see its motion, I know that it is only on account of its
+immeasurable distance. Matter and motion everywhere; void and rest
+nowhere. You ask why your restless microscopic atoms may not come
+together and become self-conscious and self-moving organisms. I ask why
+my telescopic star-dust may not come together and grow and organize
+into habitable worlds,--the ripened fruit on the branches of the tree
+Yggdrasil, if I may borrow from our friend the Poet's province. It
+frightens people, though, to hear the suggestion that worlds shape
+themselves from star-mist. It does not trouble them at all to see
+the watery spheres that round themselves into being out of the vapors
+floating over us; they are nothing but raindrops. But if a planet can
+grow as a rain-drop grows, why then--It was a great comfort to these
+timid folk when Lord Rosse's telescope resolved certain nebula into
+star-clusters. Sir John Herschel would have told them that this
+made little difference in accounting for the formation of worlds by
+aggregation, but at any rate it was a comfort to them.
+
+--These people have always been afraid of the astronomers,--said the
+Master.--They were shy, you know, of the Copernican system, for a long
+while; well they might be with an oubliette waiting for them if they
+ventured to think that the earth moved round the sun. Science settled
+that point finally for them, at length, and then it was all right,--when
+there was no use in disputing the fact any longer. By and by geology
+began turning up fossils that told extraordinary stories about the
+duration of life upon our planet. What subterfuges were not used to get
+rid of their evidence! Think of a man seeing the fossilized skeleton of
+an animal split out of a quarry, his teeth worn down by mastication, and
+the remains of food still visible in his interior, and, in order to
+get rid of a piece of evidence contrary to the traditions he holds to,
+seriously maintaining that this skeleton never belonged to a living
+creature, but was created with just these appearances; a make-believe,
+a sham, a Barnum's-mermaid contrivance to amuse its Creator and impose
+upon his intelligent children! And now people talk about geological
+epochs and hundreds of millions of years in the planet's history
+as calmly as if they were discussing the age of their deceased
+great-grandmothers. Ten or a dozen years ago people said Sh! Sh! if you
+ventured to meddle with any question supposed to involve a doubt of
+the generally accepted Hebrew traditions. To-day such questions are
+recognized as perfectly fair subjects for general conversation; not in
+the basement story, perhaps, or among the rank and file of the curbstone
+congregations, but among intelligent and educated persons. You may
+preach about them in your pulpit, you may lecture about them, you may
+talk about them with the first sensible-looking person you happen to
+meet, you may write magazine articles about them, and the editor
+need not expect to receive remonstrances from angry subscribers and
+withdrawals of subscriptions, as he would have been sure to not a great
+many years ago. Why, you may go to a tea-party where the clergyman's
+wife shows her best cap and his daughters display their shining
+ringlets, and you will hear the company discussing the Darwinian theory
+of the origin of the human race as if it were as harmless a question as
+that of the lineage of a spinster's lapdog. You may see a fine lady who
+is as particular in her genuflections as any Buddhist or Mahometan saint
+in his manifestations of reverence, who will talk over the anthropoid
+ape, the supposed founder of the family to which we belong, and even go
+back with you to the acephalous mollusk, first cousin to the clams and
+mussels, whose rudimental spine was the hinted prophecy of humanity; all
+this time never dreaming, apparently, that what she takes for a matter
+of curious speculation involves the whole future of human progress and
+destiny.
+
+I can't help thinking that if we had talked as freely as we can and do
+now in the days of the first boarder at this table,--I mean the one who
+introduced it to the public,--it would have sounded a good deal more
+aggressively than it does now.--The old Master got rather warm in
+talking; perhaps the consciousness of having a number of listeners had
+something to do with it.
+
+--This whole business is an open question,--he said,--and there is no
+use in saying, “Hush! don't talk about such things!” People do talk
+about 'em everywhere; and if they don't talk about 'em they think about
+'em, and that is worse,--if there is anything bad about such questions,
+that is. If for the Fall of man, science comes to substitute the RISE
+of man, sir, it means the utter disintegration of all the spiritual
+pessimisms which have been like a spasm in the heart and a cramp in the
+intellect of men for so many centuries. And yet who dares to say that
+it is not a perfectly legitimate and proper question to be discussed,
+without the slightest regard to the fears or the threats of Pope or
+prelate?
+
+Sir, I believe,--the Master rose from his chair as he spoke, and said in
+a deep and solemn tone, but without any declamatory vehemence,--sir, I
+believe that we are at this moment in what will be recognized not many
+centuries hence as one of the late watches in the night of the dark
+ages. There is a twilight ray, beyond question. We know something of the
+universe, a very little, and, strangely enough, we know most of what is
+farthest from us. We have weighed the planets and analyzed the flames of
+the--sun and stars. We predict their movements as if they were machines
+we ourselves had made and regulated. We know a good deal about the earth
+on which we live. But the study of man has been so completely subjected
+to our preconceived opinions, that we have got to begin all over again.
+We have studied anthropology through theology; we have now to begin
+the study of theology through anthropology. Until we have exhausted the
+human element in every form of belief, and that can only be done by what
+we may call comparative spiritual anatomy, we cannot begin to deal with
+the alleged extra-human elements without blundering into all imaginable
+puerilities. If you think for one moment that there is not a single
+religion in the world which does not come to us through the medium of
+a preexisting language; and if you remember that this language embodies
+absolutely nothing but human conceptions and human passions, you will
+see at once that every religion presupposes its own elements as already
+existing in those to whom it is addressed. I once went to a church in
+London and heard the famous Edward Irving preach, and heard some of
+his congregation speak in the strange words characteristic of their
+miraculous gift of tongues. I had a respect for the logical basis of
+this singular phenomenon. I have always thought it was natural that
+any celestial message should demand a language of its own, only to be
+understood by divine illumination. All human words tend, of course, to
+stop short in human meaning. And the more I hear the most sacred terms
+employed, the more I am satisfied that they have entirely and radically
+different meanings in the minds of those who use them. Yet they deal
+with them as if they were as definite as mathematical quantities or
+geometrical figures. What would become of arithmetic if the figure 2
+meant three for one man and five for another and twenty for a third, and
+all the other numerals were in the same way variable quantities? Mighty
+intelligent correspondence business men would have with each other! But
+how is this any worse than the difference of opinion which led a famous
+clergyman to say to a brother theologian, “Oh, I see, my dear sir, your
+God is my Devil.”
+
+Man has been studied proudly, contemptuously, rather, from the point
+of view supposed to be authoritatively settled. The self-sufficiency of
+egotistic natures was never more fully shown than in the expositions of
+the worthlessness and wretchedness of their fellow-creatures given by
+the dogmatists who have “gone back,” as the vulgar phrase is, on their
+race, their own flesh and blood. Did you ever read what Mr. Bancroft
+says about Calvin in his article on Jonathan Edwards?--and mighty well
+said it is too, in my judgment. Let me remind you of it, whether you
+have read it or not. “Setting himself up over against the privileged
+classes, he, with a loftier pride than theirs, revealed the power of a
+yet higher order of nobility, not of a registered ancestry of fifteen
+generations, but one absolutely spotless in its escutcheon, preordained
+in the council chamber of eternity.” I think you'll find I have got that
+sentence right, word for word, and there 's a great deal more in it than
+many good folks who call themselves after the reformer seem to be aware
+of. The Pope put his foot on the neck of kings, but Calvin and his
+cohort crushed the whole human race under their heels in the name of the
+Lord of Hosts. Now, you see, the point that people don't understand
+is the absolute and utter humility of science, in opposition to this
+doctrinal self-sufficiency. I don't doubt this may sound a little
+paradoxical at first, but I think you will find it is all right. You
+remember the courtier and the monarch,--Louis the Fourteenth, wasn't
+it?--never mind, give the poor fellows that live by setting you right a
+chance. “What o'clock is it?” says the king. “Just whatever o'clock your
+Majesty pleases,” says the courtier. I venture to say the monarch was a
+great deal more humble than the follower, who pretended that his master
+was superior to such trifling facts as the revolution of the planet. It
+was the same thing, you remember, with King Canute and the tide on the
+sea-shore. The king accepted the scientific fact of the tide's rising.
+The loyal hangers-on, who believed in divine right, were too proud
+of the company they found themselves in to make any such humiliating
+admission. But there are people, and plenty of them, to-day, who will
+dispute facts just as clear to those who have taken the pains to learn
+what is known about them, as that of the tide's rising. They don't
+like to admit these facts, because they throw doubt upon some of their
+cherished opinions. We are getting on towards the last part of this
+nineteenth century. What we have gained is not so much in positive
+knowledge, though that is a good deal, as it is in the freedom of
+discussion of every subject that comes within the range of observation
+and inference. How long is it since Mrs. Piozzi wrote,--“Let me
+hope that you will not pursue geology till it leads you into doubts
+destructive of all comfort in this world and all happiness in the next”?
+
+The Master paused and I remained silent, for I was thinking things I
+could not say.
+
+--It is well always to have a woman near by when one is talking on this
+class of subjects. Whether there will be three or four women to one man
+in heaven is a question which I must leave to those who talk as if they
+knew all about the future condition of the race to answer. But very
+certainly there is much more of hearty faith, much more of spiritual
+life, among women than among men, in this world. They need faith to
+support them more than men do, for they have a great deal less to call
+them out of themselves, and it comes easier to them, for their habitual
+state of dependence teaches them to trust in others. When they become
+voters, if they ever do, it may be feared that the pews will lose what
+the ward-rooms gain. Relax a woman's hold on man, and her knee-joints
+will soon begin to stiffen. Self-assertion brings out many fine
+qualities, but it does not promote devotional habits.
+
+I remember some such thoughts as this were passing through my mind while
+the Master was talking. I noticed that the Lady was listening to the
+conversation with a look of more than usual interest. We men have the
+talk mostly to ourselves at this table; the Master, as you have found
+out, is fond of monologues, and I myself--well, I suppose I must own
+to a certain love for the reverberated music of my own accents; at any
+rate, the Master and I do most of the talking. But others help us do
+the listening. I think I can show that they listen to some purpose. I am
+going to surprise my reader with a letter which I received very shortly
+after the conversation took place which I have just reported. It is of
+course by a special license, such as belongs to the supreme prerogative
+of an author, that I am enabled to present it to him. He need ask
+no questions: it is not his affair how I obtained the right to give
+publicity to a private communication. I have become somewhat more
+intimately acquainted with the writer of it than in the earlier period
+of my connection with this establishment, and I think I may say have
+gained her confidence to a very considerable degree.
+
+MY DEAR SIR: The conversations I have had with you, limited as they
+have been, have convinced me that I am quite safe in addressing you with
+freedom on a subject which interests me, and others more than myself. We
+at our end of the table have been listening, more or less intelligently,
+to the discussions going on between two or three of you gentlemen on
+matters of solemn import to us all. This is nothing very new to me. I
+have been used, from an early period of my life, to hear the discussion
+of grave questions, both in politics and religion. I have seen gentlemen
+at my father's table get as warm over a theological point of dispute
+as in talking over their political differences. I rather think it has
+always been very much so, in bad as well as in good company; for you
+remember how Milton's fallen angels amused themselves with disputing on
+“providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate,” and it was the same thing
+in that club Goldsmith writes so pleasantly about. Indeed, why should
+not people very often come, in the course of conversation, to the
+one subject which lies beneath all else about which our thoughts are
+occupied? And what more natural than that one should be inquiring about
+what another has accepted and ceased to have any doubts concerning?
+It seems to me all right that at the proper time, in the proper place,
+those who are less easily convinced than their neighbors should have
+the fullest liberty of calling to account all the opinions which others
+receive without question. Somebody must stand sentry at the outposts of
+belief, and it is a sentry's business, I believe, to challenge every one
+who comes near him, friend or foe.
+
+I want you to understand fully that I am not one of those poor nervous
+creatures who are frightened out of their wits when any question is
+started that implies the disturbance of their old beliefs. I manage to
+see some of the periodicals, and now and then dip a little way into
+a new book which deals with these curious questions you were talking
+about, and others like them. You know they find their way almost
+everywhere. They do not worry me in the least. When I was a little girl,
+they used to say that if you put a horsehair into a tub of water it
+would turn into a snake in the course of a few days. That did not seem
+to me so very much stranger than it was that an egg should turn into a
+chicken. What can I say to that? Only that it is the Lord's doings, and
+marvellous in my eyes; and if our philosophical friend should find some
+little live creatures, or what seem to be live creatures, in any of his
+messes, I should say as much, and no more. You do not think I would shut
+up my Bible and Prayer-Book because there is one more thing I do not
+understand in a world where I understand so very little of all the
+wonders that surround me?
+
+It may be very wrong to pay any attention to those speculations about
+the origin of mankind which seem to conflict with the Sacred Record. But
+perhaps there is some way of reconciling them, as there is of making the
+seven days of creation harmonize with modern geology. At least, these
+speculations are curious enough in themselves; and I have seen so
+many good and handsome children come of parents who were anything
+but virtuous and comely, that I can believe in almost any amount of
+improvement taking place in a tribe of living beings, if time and
+opportunity favor it. I have read in books of natural history that dogs
+came originally from wolves. When I remember my little Flora, who, as I
+used to think, could do everything but talk, it does not seem to me
+that she was much nearer her savage ancestors than some of the horrid
+cannibal wretches are to their neighbors the great apes.
+
+You see that I am tolerably liberal in my habit of looking at all
+these questions. We women drift along with the current of the times,
+listening, in our quiet way, to the discussions going on round us in
+books and in conversation, and shift the phrases in which we think and
+talk with something of the same ease as that with which we change our
+style of dress from year to year. I doubt if you of the other sex
+know what an effect this habit of accommodating our tastes to changing
+standards has upon us. Nothing is fixed in them, as you know; the very
+law of fashion is change. I suspect we learn from our dressmakers to
+shift the costume of our minds, and slip on the new fashions of thinking
+all the more easily because we have been accustomed to new styles of
+dressing every season.
+
+It frightens me to see how much I have written without having yet said a
+word of what I began this letter on purpose to say. I have taken so much
+space in “defining my position,” to borrow the politicians' phrase, that
+I begin to fear you will be out of patience before you come to the part
+of my letter I care most about your reading.
+
+What I want to say is this. When these matters are talked about before
+persons of different ages and various shades of intelligence, I think
+one ought to be very careful that his use of language does not injure
+the sensibilities, perhaps blunt the reverential feelings, of those
+who are listening to him. You of the sterner sex say that we women have
+intuitions, but not logic, as our birthright. I shall not commit my sex
+by conceding this to be true as a whole, but I will accept the first
+half of it, and I will go so far as to say that we do not always care
+to follow out a train of thought until it ends in a blind cul de sac, as
+some of what are called the logical people are fond of doing.
+
+Now I want to remind you that religion is not a matter of intellectual
+luxury to those of us who are interested in it, but something very
+different. It is our life, and more than our life; for that is measured
+by pulse-beats, but our religious consciousness partakes of the
+Infinite, towards which it is constantly yearning. It is very possible
+that a hundred or five hundred years from now the forms of religious
+belief may be so altered that we should hardly know them. But the sense
+of dependence on Divine influence and the need of communion with the
+unseen and eternal will be then just what they are now. It is not the
+geologist's hammer, or the astronomer's telescope, or the naturalist's
+microscope, that is going to take away the need of the human soul for
+that Rock to rest upon which is higher than itself, that Star which
+never sets, that all-pervading Presence which gives life to all the
+least moving atoms of the immeasurable universe.
+
+I have no fears for myself, and listen very quietly to all your debates.
+I go from your philosophical discussions to the reading of Jeremy
+Taylor's “Rule and Exercises of Holy Dying” without feeling that I have
+unfitted myself in the least degree for its solemn reflections. And, as
+I have mentioned his name, I cannot help saying that I do not believe
+that good man himself would have ever shown the bitterness to those who
+seem to be at variance with the received doctrines which one may see in
+some of the newspapers that call themselves “religious.” I have kept
+a few old books from my honored father's library, and among them is
+another of his which I always thought had more true Christianity in its
+title than there is in a good many whole volumes. I am going to take the
+book down, or up,--for it is not a little one,--and write out the title,
+which, I dare say, you remember, and very likely you have the book.
+“Discourse of the Liberty of Prophesying, showing the Unreasonableness
+of prescribing to other Men's Faith, and the Iniquity of persecuting
+Different Opinions.”
+
+Now, my dear sir, I am sure you believe that I want to be liberal and
+reasonable, and not to act like those weak alarmists who, whenever the
+silly sheep begin to skip as if something was after them, and huddle
+together in their fright, are sure there must be a bear or a lion coming
+to eat them up. But for all that, I want to beg you to handle some
+of these points, which are so involved in the creed of a good many
+well-intentioned persons that you cannot separate them from it without
+picking their whole belief to pieces, with more thought for them than
+you might think at first they were entitled to. I have no doubt you
+gentlemen are as wise as serpents, and I want you to be as harmless as
+doves.
+
+The Young Girl who sits by me has, I know, strong religious instincts.
+Instead of setting her out to ask all sorts of questions, I would
+rather, if I had my way, encourage her to form a habit of attending to
+religious duties, and make the most of the simple faith in which she was
+bred. I think there are a good many questions young persons may safely
+postpone to a more convenient season; and as this young creature is
+overworked, I hate to have her excited by the fever of doubt which it
+cannot be denied is largely prevailing in our time.
+
+I know you must have looked on our other young friend, who has devoted
+himself to the sublimest of the sciences, with as much interest as I do.
+When I was a little girl I used to write out a line of Young's as a copy
+in my writing-book,
+
+ “An undevout astronomer is mad”;
+
+but I do not now feel quite so sure that the contemplation of all
+the multitude of remote worlds does not tend to weaken the idea of a
+personal Deity. It is not so much that nebular theory which worries me,
+when I think about this subject, as a kind of bewilderment when I try to
+conceive of a consciousness filling all those frightful blanks of space
+they talk about. I sometimes doubt whether that young man worships
+anything but the stars. They tell me that many young students of science
+like him never see the inside of a church. I cannot help wishing they
+did. It humanizes people, quite apart from any higher influence it
+exerts upon them. One reason, perhaps, why they do not care to go to
+places of worship is that they are liable to hear the questions they
+know something about handled in sermons by those who know very much less
+about them. And so they lose a great deal. Almost every human being,
+however vague his notions of the Power addressed, is capable of being
+lifted and solemnized by the exercise of public prayer. When I was a
+young girl we travelled in Europe, and I visited Ferney with my parents;
+and I remember we all stopped before a chapel, and I read upon its
+front, I knew Latin enough to understand it, I am pleased to say,--Deo
+erexit Voltaire. I never forgot it; and knowing what a sad scoffer he
+was at most sacred things, I could not but be impressed with the fact
+that even he was not satisfied with himself, until he had shown his
+devotion in a public and lasting form.
+
+We all want religion sooner or later. I am afraid there are some who
+have no natural turn for it, as there are persons without an ear for
+music, to which, if I remember right, I heard one of you comparing what
+you called religious genius. But sorrow and misery bring even these to
+know what it means, in a great many instances. May I not say to you, my
+friend, that I am one who has learned the secret of the inner life by
+the discipline of trials in the life of outward circumstance? I can
+remember the time when I thought more about the shade of color in a
+ribbon, whether it matched my complexion or not, than I did about my
+spiritual interests in this world or the next. It was needful that
+I should learn the meaning of that text, “Whom the Lord loveth he
+chasteneth.”
+
+Since I have been taught in the school of trial I have felt, as I never
+could before, how precious an inheritance is the smallest patrimony
+of faith. When everything seemed gone from me, I found I had still one
+possession. The bruised reed that I had never leaned on became my staff.
+The smoking flax which had been a worry to my eyes burst into flame, and
+I lighted the taper at it which has since guided all my footsteps. And I
+am but one of the thousands who have had the same experience. They have
+been through the depths of affliction, and know the needs of the human
+soul. It will find its God in the unseen,--Father, Saviour, Divine
+Spirit, Virgin Mother, it must and will breathe its longings and its
+griefs into the heart of a Being capable of understanding all its
+necessities and sympathizing with all its woes.
+
+I am jealous, yes, I own I am jealous of any word, spoken or written,
+that would tend to impair that birthright of reverence which becomes for
+so many in after years the basis of a deeper religious sentiment. And
+yet, as I have said, I cannot and will not shut my eyes to the problems
+which may seriously affect our modes of conceiving the eternal truths
+on which, and by which, our souls must live. What a fearful time is this
+into which we poor sensitive and timid creatures are born! I suppose the
+life of every century has more or less special resemblance to that of
+some particular Apostle. I cannot help thinking this century has Thomas
+for its model. How do you suppose the other Apostles felt when that
+experimental philosopher explored the wounds of the Being who to them
+was divine with his inquisitive forefinger? In our time that finger has
+multiplied itself into ten thousand thousand implements of research,
+challenging all mysteries, weighing the world as in a balance, and
+sifting through its prisms and spectroscopes the light that comes from
+the throne of the Eternal.
+
+Pity us, dear Lord, pity us! The peace in believing which belonged to
+other ages is not for us. Again Thy wounds are opened that we may know
+whether it is the blood of one like ourselves which flows from them, or
+whether it is a Divinity that is bleeding for His creatures. Wilt Thou
+not take the doubt of Thy children whom the time commands to try
+all things in the place of the unquestioning faith of earlier and
+simpler-hearted generations? We too have need of Thee. Thy martyrs in
+other ages were cast into the flames, but no fire could touch their
+immortal and indestructible faith. We sit in safety and in peace, so
+far as these poor bodies are concerned; but our cherished beliefs, the
+hopes, the trust that stayed the hearts of those we loved who have
+gone before us, are cast into the fiery furnace of an age which is fast
+turning to dross the certainties and the sanctities once prized as our
+most precious inheritance. You will understand me, my dear sir, and
+all my solicitudes and apprehensions. Had I never been assailed by the
+questions that meet all thinking persons in our time, I might not have
+thought so anxiously about the risk of perplexing others. I know as
+well as you must that there are many articles of belief clinging to the
+skirts of our time which are the bequests of the ages of ignorance that
+God winked at. But for all that I would train a child in the nurture and
+admonition of the Lord, according to the simplest and best creed I could
+disentangle from those barbarisms, and I would in every way try to keep
+up in young persons that standard of reverence for all sacred subjects
+which may, without any violent transition, grow and ripen into the
+devotion of later years. Believe me,
+
+Very sincerely yours,
+
+I have thought a good deal about this letter and the writer of it
+lately. She seemed at first removed to a distance from all of us,
+but here I find myself in somewhat near relations with her. What has
+surprised me more than that, however, is to find that she is becoming so
+much acquainted with the Register of Deeds. Of all persons in the world,
+I should least have thought of him as like to be interested in her, and
+still less, if possible, of her fancying him. I can only say they have
+been in pretty close conversation several times of late, and, if I dared
+to think it of so very calm and dignified a personage, I should say that
+her color was a little heightened after one or more of these interviews.
+No! that would be too absurd! But I begin to think nothing is absurd
+in the matter of the relations of the two sexes; and if this high-bred
+woman fancies the attentions of a piece of human machinery like this
+elderly individual, it is none of my business.
+
+I have been at work on some more of the Young Astronomer's lines. I
+find less occasion for meddling with them as he grows more used to
+versification. I think I could analyze the processes going on in his
+mind, and the conflict of instincts which he cannot in the nature of
+things understand. But it is as well to give the reader a chance to find
+out for himself what is going on in the young man's heart and intellect.
+
+ WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.
+
+ III
+
+ The snows that glittered on the disk of Mars
+ Have melted, and the planet's fiery orb
+ Rolls in the crimson summer of its year;
+ But what to me the summer or the snow
+ Of worlds that throb with life in forms unknown,
+ If life indeed be theirs; I heed not these.
+ My heart is simply human; all my care
+ For them whose dust is fashioned like mine own;
+ These ache with cold and hunger, live in pain,
+ And shake with fear of worlds more full of woe;
+ There may be others worthier of my love,
+ But such I know not save through these I know.
+
+ There are two veils of language, hid beneath
+ Whose sheltering folds, we dare to be ourselves;
+ And not that other self which nods and smiles
+ And babbles in our name; the one is Prayer,
+ Lending its licensed freedom to the tongue
+ That tells our sorrows and our sins to Heaven;
+ The other, Verse, that throws its spangled web
+ Around our naked speech and makes it bold.
+ I, whose best prayer is silence; sitting dumb
+ In the great temple where I nightly serve
+ Him who is throned in light, have dared to claim
+ The poet's franchise, though I may not hope
+ To wear his garland; hear me while I tell
+ My story in such form as poets use,
+ But breathed in fitful whispers, as the wind
+ Sighs and then slumbers, wakes and sighs again.
+
+ Thou Vision, floating in the breathless air
+ Between me and the fairest of the stars,
+ I tell my lonely thoughts as unto thee.
+ Look not for marvels of the scholar's pen
+ In my rude measure; I can only show
+ A slender-margined, unillumined page,
+ And trust its meaning to the flattering eye
+ That reads it in the gracious light of love.
+ Ah, wouldst thou clothe thyself in breathing shape
+ And nestle at my side, my voice should lend
+ Whate'er my verse may lack of tender rhythm
+ To make thee listen.
+
+ I have stood entranced
+ When, with her fingers wandering o'er the keys,
+ The white enchantress with the golden hair
+ Breathed all her soul through some unvalued rhyme;
+ Some flower of song that long had lost its bloom;
+ Lo! its dead summer kindled as she sang!
+ The sweet contralto, like the ringdove's coo,
+ Thrilled it with brooding, fond, caressing tones,
+ And the pale minstrel's passion lived again,
+ Tearful and trembling as a dewy rose
+ The wind has shaken till it fills the air
+ With light and fragrance. Such the wondrous charm
+ A song can borrow when the bosom throbs
+ That lends it breath.
+
+ So from the poet's lips
+ His verse sounds doubly sweet, for none like him
+ Feels every cadence of its wave-like flow;
+ He lives the passion over, while he reads,
+ That shook him as he sang his lofty strain,
+ And pours his life through each resounding line,
+ As ocean, when the stormy winds are hushed,
+ Still rolls and thunders through his billowy caves.
+
+ Let me retrace the record of the years
+ That made me what I am. A man most wise,
+ But overworn with toil and bent with age,
+ Sought me to be his scholar,--me, run wild
+ From books and teachers,--kindled in my soul
+ The love of knowledge; led me to his tower,
+ Showed me the wonders of the midnight realm
+ His hollow sceptre ruled, or seemed to rule,
+ Taught me the mighty secrets of the spheres,
+ Trained me to find the glimmering specks of light
+ Beyond the unaided sense, and on my chart
+ To string them one by one, in order due,
+ As on a rosary a saint his beads.
+
+ I was his only scholar; I became
+ The echo to his thought; whate'er he knew
+ Was mine for asking; so from year to year
+ We wrought together, till there came a time
+ When I, the learner, was the master half
+ Of the twinned being in the dome-crowned tower.
+
+ Minds roll in paths like planets; they revolve
+ This in a larger, that a narrower ring,
+ But round they come at last to that same phase,
+ That self-same light and shade they showed before.
+ I learned his annual and his monthly tale,
+ His weekly axiom and his daily phrase,
+ I felt them coming in the laden air,
+ And watched them laboring up to vocal breath,
+ Even as the first-born at his father's board
+ Knows ere he speaks the too familiar jest
+ Is on its way, by some mysterious sign
+ Forewarned, the click before the striking bell.
+
+ He shrivelled as I spread my growing leaves,
+ Till trust and reverence changed to pitying care;
+ He lived for me in what he once had been,
+ But I for him, a shadow, a defence,
+ The guardian of his fame, his guide, his staff,
+ Leaned on so long he fell if left alone.
+ I was his eye, his ear, his cunning hand,
+ Love was my spur and longing after fame,
+ But his the goading thorn of sleepless age
+ That sees its shortening span, its lengthening shades,
+ That clutches what it may with eager grasp,
+ And drops at last with empty, outstretched hands.
+
+ All this he dreamed not. He would sit him down
+ Thinking to work his problems as of old,
+ And find the star he thought so plain a blur,
+ The columned figures labyrinthine wilds
+ Without my comment, blind and senseless scrawls
+ That vexed him with their riddles; he would strive
+ And struggle for a while, and then his eye
+ Would lose its light, and over all his mind
+ The cold gray mist would settle; and erelong
+ The darkness fell, and I was left alone.
+
+ Alone! no climber of an Alpine cliff,
+ No Arctic venturer on the waveless sea,
+ Feels the dread stillness round him as it chills
+ The heart of him who leaves the slumbering earth
+ To watch the silent worlds that crowd the sky.
+
+ Alone! And as the shepherd leaves his flock
+ To feed upon the hillside, he meanwhile
+ Finds converse in the warblings of the pipe
+ Himself has fashioned for his vacant hour,
+ So have I grown companion to myself,
+ And to the wandering spirits of the air
+ That smile and whisper round us in our dreams.
+ Thus have I learned to search if I may know
+ The whence and why of all beneath the stars
+ And all beyond them, and to weigh my life
+ As in a balance, poising good and ill
+ Against each other,-asking of the Power
+ That flung me forth among the whirling worlds,
+ If I am heir to any inborn right,
+ Or only as an atom of the dust
+ That every wind may blow where'er it will.
+
+ I am not humble; I was shown my place,
+ Clad in such robes as Nature had at hand;
+ Took what she gave, not chose; I know no shame,
+ No fear for being simply what I am.
+ I am not proud, I hold my every breath
+ At Nature's mercy. I am as a babe
+ Borne in a giant's arms, he knows not where;
+ Each several heart-beat, counted like the coin
+ A miser reckons, is a special gift
+ As from an unseen hand; if that withhold
+ Its bounty for a moment, I am left
+ A clod upon the earth to which I fall.
+
+ Something I find in me that well might claim
+ The love of beings in a sphere above
+ This doubtful twilight world of right and wrong;
+ Something that shows me of the self-same clay
+ That creeps or swims or flies in humblest form.
+ Had I been asked, before I left my bed
+ Of shapeless dust, what clothing I would wear,
+ I would have said, More angel and less worm;
+ But for their sake who are even such as I,
+ Of the same mingled blood, I would not choose
+ To hate that meaner portion of myself
+ Which makes me brother to the least of men.
+
+ I dare not be a coward with my lips
+ Who dare to question all things in my soul;
+ Some men may find their wisdom on their knees,
+ Some prone and grovelling in the dust like slaves;
+ Let the meek glow-worm glisten in the dew;
+ I ask to lift my taper to the sky
+ As they who hold their lamps above their heads,
+ Trusting the larger currents up aloft,
+ Rather than crossing eddies round their breast,
+ Threatening with every puff the flickering blaze.
+
+ My life shall be a challenge, not a truce!
+ This is my homage to the mightier powers,
+ To ask my boldest question, undismayed
+ By muttered threats that some hysteric sense
+ Of wrong or insult will convulse the throne
+ Where wisdom reigns supreme; and if I err,
+ They all must err who have to feel their way
+ As bats that fly at noon; for what are we
+ But creatures of the night, dragged forth by day,
+ Who needs must stumble, and with stammering steps
+ Spell out their paths in syllables of pain?
+
+ Thou wilt not hold in scorn the child who dares
+ Look up to Thee, the Father,--dares to ask
+ More than Thy wisdom answers. From Thy hand
+ The worlds were cast; yet every leaflet claims
+ From that same hand its little shining sphere
+ Of star-lit dew; thine image, the great sun,
+ Girt with his mantle of tempestuous flame,
+
+ Glares in mid-heaven; but to his noontide blaze
+ The slender violet lifts its lidless eye,
+ And from his splendor steals its fairest hue,
+ Its sweetest perfume from his scorching fire.
+
+I may just as well stop here as anywhere, for there is more of the
+manuscript to come, and I can only give it in instalments.
+
+The Young Astronomer had told me I might read any portions of his
+manuscript I saw fit to certain friends. I tried this last extract on
+the old Master.
+
+It's the same story we all have to tell,--said he, when I had done
+reading.--We are all asking questions nowadays. I should like to hear
+him read some of his verses himself, and I think some of the other
+boarders would like to. I wonder if he wouldn't do it, if we asked him!
+Poets read their own compositions in a singsong sort of way; but they do
+seem to love 'em so, that I always enjoy it. It makes me laugh a little
+inwardly to see how they dandle their poetical babies, but I don't let
+them know it. We must get up a select party of the boarders to hear him
+read. We'll send him a regular invitation. I will put my name at the
+head of it, and you shall write it.
+
+--That was neatly done. How I hate writing such things! But I suppose I
+must do it.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+The Master and I had been thinking for some time of trying to get the
+Young Astronomer round to our side of the table. There are many subjects
+on which both of us like to talk with him, and it would be convenient
+to have him nearer to us. How to manage it was not quite so clear as it
+might have been. The Scarabee wanted to sit with his back to the light,
+as it was in his present position. He used his eyes so much in studying
+minute objects, that he wished to spare them all fatigue, and did not
+like facing a window. Neither of us cared to ask the Man of Letters, so
+called, to change his place, and of course we could not think of making
+such a request of the Young Girl or the Lady. So we were at a stand with
+reference to this project of ours.
+
+But while we were proposing, Fate or Providence disposed everything
+for us. The Man of Letters, so called, was missing one morning, having
+folded his tent--that is, packed his carpet-bag--with the silence of the
+Arabs, and encamped--that is, taken lodgings--in some locality which he
+had forgotten to indicate.
+
+The Landlady bore this sudden bereavement remarkably well. Her remarks
+and reflections; though borrowing the aid of homely imagery and doing
+occasional violence to the nicer usages of speech, were not without
+philosophical discrimination.
+
+--I like a gentleman that is a gentleman. But there's a difference in
+what folks call gentlemen as there is in what you put on table. There is
+cabbages and there is cauliflowers. There is clams and there is oysters.
+There is mackerel and there is salmon. And there is some that knows
+the difference and some that doos n't. I had a little account with that
+boarder that he forgot to settle before he went off, so all of a suddin.
+I sha'n't say anything about it. I've seen the time when I should have
+felt bad about losing what he owed me, but it was no great matter; and
+if he 'll only stay away now he 's gone, I can stand losing it, and not
+cry my eyes out nor lay awake all night neither. I never had ought to
+have took him. Where he come from and where he's gone to is unbeknown to
+me. If he'd only smoked good tobacco, I wouldn't have said a word; but
+it was such dreadful stuff, it 'll take a week to get his chamber sweet
+enough to show them that asks for rooms. It doos smell like all possest.
+
+--Left any goods?--asked the Salesman.
+
+--Or dockermunts?--added the Member of the Haouse.
+
+The Landlady answered with a faded smile, which implied that there was
+no hope in that direction. Dr. Benjamin, with a sudden recurrence of
+youthful feeling, made a fan with the fingers of his right hand, the
+second phalanx of the thumb resting on the tip of the nose, and the
+remaining digits diverging from each other, in the plane of the median
+line of the face,--I suppose this is the way he would have described
+the gesture, which is almost a specialty of the Parisian gamin. That Boy
+immediately copied it, and added greatly to its effect by extending
+the fingers of the other hand in a line with those of the first, and
+vigorously agitating those of the two hands,--a gesture which acts like
+a puncture on the distended self-esteem of one to whom it is addressed,
+and cheapens the memory of the absent to a very low figure.
+
+I wish the reader to observe that I treasure up with interest all the
+words uttered by the Salesman. It must have been noticed that he
+very rarely speaks. Perhaps he has an inner life, with its own deep
+emotional, and lofty contemplative elements, but as we see him, he is
+the boarder reduced to the simplest expression of that term. Yet,
+like most human creatures, he has generic and specific characters not
+unworthy of being studied. I notice particularly a certain electrical
+briskness of movement, such as one may see in a squirrel, which clearly
+belongs to his calling. The dry-goodsman's life behind his counter is a
+succession of sudden, snappy perceptions and brief series of coordinate
+spasms; as thus:
+
+“Purple calico, three quarters wide, six yards.”
+
+Up goes the arm; bang! tumbles out the flat roll and turns half a dozen
+somersets, as if for the fun of the thing; the six yards of calico hurry
+over the measuring nails, hunching their backs up, like six cankerworms;
+out jump the scissors; snip, clip, rip; the stuff is wisped up,
+brown--papered, tied, labelled, delivered, and the man is himself again,
+like a child just come out of a convulsion-fit. Think of a man's having
+some hundreds of these semi-epileptic seizures every day, and you need
+not wonder that he does not say much; these fits take the talk all out
+of him.
+
+But because he, or any other man, does not say much, it does not follow
+that he may not have, as I have said, an exalted and intense inner
+life. I have known a number of cases where a man who seemed thoroughly
+commonplace and unemotional has all at once surprised everybody by
+telling the story of his hidden life far more pointedly and dramatically
+than any playwright or novelist or poet could have told it for him. I
+will not insult your intelligence, Beloved, by saying how he has told
+it.
+
+--We had been talking over the subjects touched upon in the Lady's
+letter.
+
+--I suppose one man in a dozen--said the Master--ought to be born a
+skeptic. That was the proportion among the Apostles, at any rate.
+
+--So there was one Judas among them,--I remarked.
+
+--Well,--said the Master,--they 've been whitewashing Judas of late.
+But never mind him. I did not say there was not one rogue on the
+average among a dozen men. I don't see how that would interfere with my
+proposition. If I say that among a dozen men you ought to find one that
+weighs over a hundred and fifty pounds, and you tell me that there were
+twelve men in your club, and one of 'em had red hair, I don't see that
+you have materially damaged my statement.
+
+--I thought it best to let the old Master have his easy victory, which
+was more apparent than real, very evidently, and he went on.
+
+--When the Lord sends out a batch of human beings, say a hundred--Did
+you ever read my book, the new edition of it, I mean?
+
+It is rather awkward to answer such a question in the negative, but I
+said, with the best grace I could, “No, not the last edition.”
+
+--Well, I must give you a copy of it. My book and I are pretty much the
+same thing. Sometimes I steal from my book in my talk without mentioning
+it, and then I say to myself, “Oh, that won't do; everybody has read my
+book and knows it by heart.” And then the other I says,--you know there
+are two of us, right and left, like a pair of shoes,--the other I says,
+“You're a--something or other--fool. They have n't read your confounded
+old book; besides, if they have, they have forgotten all about it.”
+ Another time, I say, thinking I will be very honest, “I have said
+something about that in my book”; and then the other I says, “What a
+Balaam's quadruped you are to tell 'em it's in your book; they don't
+care whether it is or not, if it's anything worth saying; and if it
+isn't worth saying, what are you braying for?” That is a rather sensible
+fellow, that other chap we talk with, but an impudent whelp. I never got
+such abuse from any blackguard in my life as I have from that No. 2 of
+me, the one that answers the other's questions and makes the comments,
+and does what in demotic phrase is called the “sarsing.”
+
+--I laughed at that. I have just such a fellow always with me, as
+wise as Solomon, if I would only heed him; but as insolent as Shimei,
+cursing, and throwing stones and dirt, and behaving as if he had the
+traditions of the “ape-like human being” born with him rather than
+civilized instincts. One does not have to be a king to know what it is
+to keep a king's jester.
+
+--I mentioned my book,--the Master said, because I have something in
+it on the subject we were talking about. I should like to read you a
+passage here and there out of it, where I have expressed myself a little
+more freely on some of those matters we handle in conversation. If you
+don't quarrel with it, I must give you a copy of the book. It's a rather
+serious thing to get a copy of a book from the writer of it. It has
+made my adjectives sweat pretty hard, I know, to put together an answer
+returning thanks and not lying beyond the twilight of veracity, if one
+may use a figure. Let me try a little of my book on you, in divided
+doses, as my friends the doctors say.
+
+-Fiat experimentum in corpore vili,--I said, laughing at my own expense.
+I don't doubt the medicament is quite as good as the patient deserves,
+and probably a great deal better,--I added, reinforcing my feeble
+compliment.
+
+[When you pay a compliment to an author, don't qualify it in the next
+sentence so as to take all the goodness out of it. Now I am thinking of
+it, I will give you one or two pieces of advice. Be careful to assure
+yourself that the person you are talking with wrote the article or book
+you praise. It is not very pleasant to be told, “Well, there, now! I
+always liked your writings, but you never did anything half so good as
+this last piece,” and then to have to tell the blunderer that this last
+piece is n't yours, but t' other man's. Take care that the phrase or
+sentence you commend is not one that is in quotation-marks. “The best
+thing in your piece, I think, is a line I do not remember meeting
+before; it struck me as very true and well expressed:
+
+“'An honest man's the noblest work of God.'
+
+“But, my dear lady, that line is one which is to be found in a writer
+of the last century, and not original with me.” One ought not to have
+undeceived her, perhaps, but one is naturally honest, and cannot bear to
+be credited with what is not his own. The lady blushes, of course, and
+says she has not read much ancient literature, or some such thing. The
+pearl upon the Ethiop's arm is very pretty in verse, but one does not
+care to furnish the dark background for other persons' jewelry.]
+
+I adjourned from the table in company with the old Master to his
+apartments. He was evidently in easy circumstances, for he had the best
+accommodations the house afforded. We passed through a reception room
+to his library, where everything showed that he had ample means for
+indulging the modest tastes of a scholar.
+
+--The first thing, naturally, when one enters a scholar's study or
+library, is to look at his books. One gets a notion very speedily of his
+tastes and the range of his pursuits by a glance round his bookshelves.
+
+Of course, you know there are many fine houses where the library is
+a part of the upholstery, so to speak. Books in handsome binding kept
+locked under plate-glass in showy dwarf bookcases are as important to
+stylish establishments as servants in livery; who sit with folded arms,
+are to stylish equipages. I suppose those wonderful statues with the
+folded arms do sometimes change their attitude, and I suppose those
+books with the gilded backs do sometimes get opened, but it is nobody's
+business whether they do or not, and it is not best to ask too many
+questions.
+
+This sort of thing is common enough, but there is another case that may
+prove deceptive if you undertake to judge from appearances. Once in a
+while you will come on a house where you will find a family of readers
+and almost no library. Some of the most indefatigable devourers of
+literature have very few books. They belong to book clubs, they haunt
+the public libraries, they borrow of friends, and somehow or other get
+hold of everything they want, scoop out all it holds for them, and have
+done with it. When I want a book, it is as a tiger wants a sheep. I must
+have it with one spring, and, if I miss it, go away defeated and hungry.
+And my experience with public libraries is that the first volume of the
+book I inquire for is out, unless I happen to want the second, when that
+is out.
+
+--I was pretty well prepared to understand the Master's library and his
+account of it. We seated ourselves in two very comfortable chairs, and I
+began the conversation.
+
+-I see you have a large and rather miscellaneous collection of books.
+Did you get them together by accident or according to some preconceived
+plan?
+
+--Both, sir, both,--the Master answered. When Providence throws a good
+book in my way, I bow to its decree and purchase it as an act of piety,
+if it is reasonably or unreasonably cheap. I adopt a certain number of
+books every year, out of a love for the foundlings and stray children of
+other people's brains that nobody seems to care for. Look here.
+
+He took down a Greek Lexicon finely bound in calf, and spread it open.
+
+Do you see that Hedericus? I had Greek dictionaries enough and to spare,
+but I saw that noble quarto lying in the midst of an ignoble crowd of
+cheap books, and marked with a price which I felt to be an insult
+to scholarship, to the memory of Homer, sir, and the awful shade of
+AEschylus. I paid the mean price asked for it, and I wanted to double
+it, but I suppose it would have been a foolish sacrifice of coin to
+sentiment: I love that book for its looks and behavior. None of your
+“half-calf” economies in that volume, sir! And see how it lies open
+anywhere! There is n't a book in my library that has such a generous way
+of laying its treasures before you. From Alpha to Omega, calm, assured
+rest at any page that your choice or accident may light on. No lifting
+of a rebellious leaf like an upstart servant that does not know his
+place and can never be taught manners, but tranquil, well-bred repose.
+A book may be a perfect gentleman in its aspect and demeanor, and this
+book would be good company for personages like Roger Ascham and his
+pupils the Lady Elizabeth and the Lady Jane Grey.
+
+The Master was evidently riding a hobby, and what I wanted to know was
+the plan on which he had formed his library. So I brought him back to
+the point by asking him the question in so many words.
+
+Yes,--he said,--I have a kind of notion of the way in which a library
+ought to be put together--no, I don't mean that, I mean ought to grow.
+I don't pretend to say that mine is a model, but it serves my turn well
+enough, and it represents me pretty accurately. A scholar must shape
+his own shell, secrete it one might almost say, for secretion is only
+separation, you know, of certain elements derived from the materials
+of the world about us. And a scholar's study, with the books lining
+its walls, is his shell. It is n't a mollusk's shell, either; it 's a
+caddice-worm's shell. You know about the caddice-worm?
+
+--More or less; less rather than more,--was my humble reply.
+
+Well, sir, the caddice-worm is the larva of a fly, and he makes a case
+for himself out of all sorts of bits of everything that happen to suit
+his particular fancy, dead or alive, sticks and stones and small shells
+with their owners in 'em, living as comfortable as ever. Every one of
+these caddice-worms has his special fancy as to what he will pick up
+and glue together, with a kind of natural cement he provides himself,
+to make his case out of. In it he lives, sticking his head and shoulders
+out once in a while, that is all. Don't you see that a student in his
+library is a caddice-worm in his case? I've told you that I take an
+interest in pretty much everything, and don't mean to fence out any
+human interests from the private grounds of my intelligence. Then,
+again, there is a subject, perhaps I may say there is more than one,
+that I want to exhaust, to know to the very bottom. And besides, of
+course I must have my literary harem, my pare aux cerfs, where my
+favorites await my moments of leisure and pleasure,--my scarce and
+precious editions, my luxurious typographical masterpieces; my Delilahs,
+that take my head in their lap: the pleasant story-tellers and the
+like; the books I love because they are fair to look upon, prized by
+collectors, endeared by old associations, secret treasures that nobody
+else knows anything about; books, in short, that I like for insufficient
+reasons it may be, but peremptorily, and mean to like and to love and to
+cherish till death us do part.
+
+Don't you see I have given you a key to the way my library is made up,
+so that you can apriorize the plan according to which I have filled my
+bookcases? I will tell you how it is carried out.
+
+In the first place, you see, I have four extensive cyclopaedias. Out
+of these I can get information enough to serve my immediate purpose on
+almost any subject. These, of course, are supplemented by geographical,
+biographical, bibliographical, and other dictionaries, including of
+course lexicons to all the languages I ever meddle with. Next to
+these come the works relating to my one or two specialties, and these
+collections I make as perfect as I can. Every library should try to be
+complete on something, if it were only on the history of pin-heads.
+I don't mean that I buy all the trashy compilations on my special
+subjects, but I try to have all the works of any real importance
+relating to them, old as well as new. In the following compartment you
+will find the great authors in all the languages I have mastered, from
+Homer and Hesiod downward to the last great English name.
+
+This division, you see, you can make almost as extensive or as limited
+as you choose. You can crowd the great representative writers into
+a small compass; or you can make a library consisting only of the
+different editions of Horace, if you have space and money enough. Then
+comes the Harem, the shelf or the bookcase of Delilahs, that you
+have paid wicked prices for, that you love without pretending to be
+reasonable about it, and would bag in case of fire before all the
+rest, just as Mr. Townley took the Clytie to his carriage when the
+anti-Catholic mob threatened his house in 1780. As for the foundlings
+like my Hedericus, they go among their peers; it is a pleasure to
+take them, from the dusty stall where they were elbowed by plebeian
+school-books and battered odd volumes, and give them Alduses and
+Elzevirs for companions.
+
+Nothing remains but the Infirmary. The most painful subjects are the
+unfortunates that have lost a cover. Bound a hundred years ago, perhaps,
+and one of the rich old browned covers gone--what a pity! Do you know
+what to do about it? I 'll tell you,--no, I 'll show you. Look at this
+volume. M. T. Ciceronis Opera,--a dozen of 'em,--one of 'em minus half
+his cover, a poor one-legged cripple, six months ago,--now see him.
+
+--He looked very respectably indeed, both covers dark, ancient, very
+decently matched; one would hardly notice the fact that they were not
+twins.
+
+-I 'll tell you what I did. You poor devil, said I, you are a disgrace
+to your family. We must send you to a surgeon and have some kind of a
+Taliacotian operation performed on you. (You remember the operation as
+described in Hudibras, of course.) The first thing was to find a subject
+of similar age and aspect ready to part with one of his members. So I
+went to Quidlibet's,--you know Quidlibet and that hieroglyphic sign of
+his with the omniscient-looking eye as its most prominent feature,--and
+laid my case before him. I want you, said I, to look up an old book of
+mighty little value,--one of your ten-cent vagabonds would be the sort
+of thing,--but an old beggar, with a cover like this, and lay it by for
+me.
+
+And Quidlibet, who is a pleasant body to deal with,--only he has
+insulted one or two gentlemanly books by selling them to me at very
+low-bred and shamefully insufficient prices,--Quidlibet, I say, laid by
+three old books for me to help myself from, and did n't take the trouble
+even to make me pay the thirty cents for 'em. Well, said I to myself,
+let us look at our three books that have undergone the last insult short
+of the trunkmaker's or the paper-mills, and see what they are. There may
+be something worth looking at in one or the other of 'em.
+
+Now do you know it was with a kind of a tremor that I untied the package
+and looked at these three unfortunates, too humble for the companionable
+dime to recognize as its equal in value. The same sort of feeling you
+know if you ever tried the Bible-and-key, or the Sortes Virgiliance.
+I think you will like to know what the three books were which had been
+bestowed upon me gratis, that I might tear away one of the covers of the
+one that best matched my Cicero, and give it to the binder to cobble my
+crippled volume with.
+
+The Master took the three books from a cupboard and continued.
+
+No. I. An odd volume of The Adventurer. It has many interesting things
+enough, but is made precious by containing Simon Browne's famous
+Dedication to the Queen of his Answer to Tindal's “Christianity as old
+as the Creation.” Simon Browne was the Man without a Soul. An excellent
+person, a most worthy dissenting minister, but lying under a strange
+delusion.
+
+Here is a paragraph from his Dedication:
+
+“He was once a man; and of some little name; but of no worth, as his
+present unparalleled case makes but too manifest; for by the immediate
+hand of an avenging GOD, his very thinking substance has, for more than
+seven years, been continually wasting away, till it is wholly perished
+out of him, if it be not utterly come to nothing. None, no, not the
+least remembrance of its very ruins, remains, not the shadow of an
+idea is left, nor any sense that so much as one single one, perfect or
+imperfect, whole or diminished, ever did appear to a mind within him, or
+was perceived by it.”
+
+Think of this as the Dedication of a book “universally allowed to be
+the best which that controversy produced,” and what a flood of light it
+pours on the insanities of those self-analyzing diarists whose morbid
+reveries have been so often mistaken for piety! No. I. had something
+for me, then, besides the cover, which was all it claimed to have worth
+offering.
+
+No. II. was “A View of Society and Manners in Italy.” Vol. III. By
+John Moore, M. D. (Zeluco Moore.) You know his pleasant book. In
+this particular volume what interested me most, perhaps, was the very
+spirited and intelligent account of the miracle of the liquefaction of
+the blood of Saint Januarius, but it gave me an hour's mighty agreeable
+reading. So much for Number Two.
+
+No. III. was “An ESSAY On the Great EFFECTS of Even Languid and Unheeded
+LOCAL MOTION.” By the Hon. Robert Boyle. Published in 1685, and, as
+appears from other sources, “received with great and general applause.”
+ I confess I was a little startled to find how near this earlier
+philosopher had come to the modern doctrines, such as are illustrated in
+Tyndall's “Heat considered as a Mode of Motion.” He speaks of “Us,
+who endeavor to resolve the Phenomena of Nature into Matter and Local
+motion.” That sounds like the nineteenth century, but what shall we say
+to this? “As when a bar of iron or silver, having been well hammered,
+is newly taken off of the anvil; though the eye can discern no motion
+in it, yet the touch will readily perceive it to be very hot, and if you
+spit upon it, the brisk agitation of the insensible parts will become
+visible in that which they will produce in the liquor.” He takes a bar
+of tin, and tries whether by bending it to and fro two or three times he
+cannot “procure a considerable internal commotion among the parts “; and
+having by this means broken or cracked it in the middle, finds, as he
+expected, that the middle parts had considerably heated each other.
+There are many other curious and interesting observations in the volume
+which I should like to tell you of, but these will serve my purpose.
+
+--Which book furnished you the old cover you wanted?--said I.
+
+--Did he kill the owl?--said the Master, laughing. [I suppose you, the
+reader, know the owl story.]--It was Number Two that lent me one of his
+covers. Poor wretch! He was one of three, and had lost his two brothers.
+From him that hath not shall be taken even that which he hath. The
+Scripture had to be fulfilled in his case. But I couldn't help saying to
+myself, What do you keep writing books for, when the stalls are covered
+all over with 'em, good books, too, that nobody will give ten cents
+apiece for, lying there like so many dead beasts of burden, of no
+account except to strip off their hides? What is the use, I say? I have
+made a book or two in my time, and I am making another that perhaps
+will see the light one of these days. But if I had my life to live over
+again, I think I should go in for silence, and get as near to Nirvana as
+I could. This language is such a paltry tool! The handle of it cuts and
+the blade doesn't. You muddle yourself by not knowing what you mean by a
+word, and send out your unanswered riddles and rebuses to clear up other
+people's difficulties. It always seems to me that talk is a ripple and
+thought is a ground swell. A string of words, that mean pretty much
+anything, helps you in a certain sense to get hold of a thought, just as
+a string of syllables that mean nothing helps you to a word; but it's a
+poor business, it's a poor business, and the more you study definition
+the more you find out how poor it is. Do you know I sometimes think our
+little entomological neighbor is doing a sounder business than we people
+that make books about ourselves and our slippery abstractions? A man can
+see the spots on a bug and count 'em, and tell what their color is, and
+put another bug alongside of him and see whether the two are alike or
+different. And when he uses a word he knows just what he means. There
+is no mistake as to the meaning and identity of pulex irritans, confound
+him!
+
+--What if we should look in, some day, on the Scarabeeist, as he calls
+himself?--said I.--The fact is the Master had got agoing at such a rate
+that I was willing to give a little turn to the conversation.
+
+--Oh, very well,--said the Master,--I had some more things to say, but I
+don't doubt they'll keep. And besides, I take an interest in entomology,
+and have my own opinion on the meloe question.
+
+--You don't mean to say you have studied insects as well as solar
+systems and the order of things generally?
+
+--He looked pleased. All philosophers look pleased when people say
+to them virtually, “Ye are gods.” The Master says he is vain
+constitutionally, and thanks God that he is. I don't think he has enough
+vanity to make a fool of himself with it, but the simple truth is he
+cannot help knowing that he has a wide and lively intelligence, and
+it pleases him to know it, and to be reminded of it, especially in an
+oblique and tangential sort of way, so as not to look like downright
+flattery.
+
+Yes, yes, I have amused a summer or two with insects, among other
+things. I described a new tabanus,--horsefly, you know,--which, I think,
+had escaped notice. I felt as grand when I showed up my new discovery
+as if I had created the beast. I don't doubt Herschel felt as if he had
+made a planet when he first showed the astronomers Georgium Sidus, as he
+called it. And that reminds me of something. I was riding on the outside
+of a stagecoach from London to Windsor in the year--never mind the
+year, but it must have been in June, I suppose, for I bought some
+strawberries. England owes me a sixpence with interest from date, for I
+gave the woman a shilling, and the coach contrived to start or the woman
+timed it so that I just missed getting my change. What an odd thing
+memory is, to be sure, to have kept such a triviality, and have lost
+so much that was invaluable! She is a crazy wench, that Mnemosyne; she
+throws her jewels out of the window and locks up straws and old rags in
+her strong box.
+
+[De profundis! said I to myself, the bottom of the bushel has dropped
+out! Sancta--Maria, ora pro nobis!]
+
+--But as I was saying, I was riding on the outside of a stage-coach from
+London to Windsor, when all at once a picture familiar to me from my New
+England village childhood came upon me like a reminiscence rather than a
+revelation. It was a mighty bewilderment of slanted masts and spars and
+ladders and ropes, from the midst of which a vast tube, looking as if
+it might be a piece of ordnance such as the revolted angels battered the
+walls of Heaven with, according to Milton, lifted its muzzle defiantly
+towards the sky. Why, you blessed old rattletrap, said I to myself, I
+know you as well as I know my father's spectacles and snuff-box! And
+that same crazy witch of a Memory, so divinely wise and foolish, travels
+thirty-five hundred miles or so in a single pulse-beat, makes straight
+for an old house and an old library and an old corner of it, and whisks
+out a volume of an old cyclopaedia, and there is the picture of which
+this is the original. Sir William Herschel's great telescope! It was
+just about as big, as it stood there by the roadside, as it was in the
+picture, not much different any way. Why should it be? The pupil of your
+eye is only a gimlet-hole, not so very much bigger than the eye of a
+sail-needle, and a camel has to go through it before you can see him.
+You look into a stereoscope and think you see a miniature of a
+building or a mountain; you don't, you 're made a fool of by your lying
+intelligence, as you call it; you see the building and the mountain just
+as large as with your naked eye looking straight at the real objects.
+Doubt it, do you? Perhaps you'd like to doubt it to the music of a
+couple of gold five-dollar pieces. If you would, say the word, and
+man and money, as Messrs. Heenan and Morrissey have it, shall be
+forthcoming; for I will make you look at a real landscape with your
+right eye, and a stereoscopic view of it with your left eye, both at
+once, and you can slide one over the other by a little management and
+see how exactly the picture overlies the true landscape. We won't try it
+now, because I want to read you something out of my book.
+
+--I have noticed that the Master very rarely fails to come back to his
+original proposition, though he, like myself, is fond of zigzagging in
+order to reach it. Men's minds are like the pieces on a chess-board in
+their way of moving. One mind creeps from the square it is on to the
+next, straight forward, like the pawns. Another sticks close to its
+own line of thought and follows it as far as it goes, with no heed for
+others' opinions, as the bishop sweeps the board in the line of his own
+color. And another class of minds break through everything that lies
+before them, ride over argument and opposition, and go to the end of
+the board, like the castle. But there is still another sort of intellect
+which is very apt to jump over the thought that stands next and come
+down in the unexpected way of the knight. But that same knight, as the
+chess manuals will show you, will contrive to get on to every square
+of the board in a pretty series of moves that looks like a pattern
+of embroidery, and so these zigzagging minds like the Master's, and I
+suppose my own is something like it, will sooner or later get back to
+the square next the one they started from.
+
+The Master took down a volume from one of the shelves. I could not
+help noticing that it was a shelf near his hand as he sat, and that the
+volume looked as if he had made frequent use of it. I saw, too, that
+he handled it in a loving sort of way; the tenderness he would have
+bestowed on a wife and children had to find a channel somewhere, and
+what more natural than that he should look fondly on the volume which
+held the thoughts that had rolled themselves smooth and round in his
+mind like pebbles on a beach, the dreams which, under cover of the
+simple artifices such as all writers use, told the little world of
+readers his secret hopes and aspirations, the fancies which had pleased
+him and which he could not bear to let die without trying to please
+others with them? I have a great sympathy with authors, most of all with
+unsuccessful ones. If one had a dozen lives or so, it would all be very
+well, but to have only a single ticket in the great lottery, and have
+that drawn a blank, is a rather sad sort of thing. So I was pleased to
+see the affectionate kind of pride with which the Master handled his
+book; it was a success, in its way, and he looked on it with a cheerful
+sense that he had a right to be proud of it. The Master opened the
+volume, and, putting on his large round glasses, began reading, as
+authors love to read that love their books.
+
+--The only good reason for believing in the stability of the moral order
+of things is to be found in the tolerable steadiness of human averages.
+Out of a hundred human beings fifty-one will be found in the long run
+on the side of the right, so far as they know it, and against the wrong.
+They will be organizers rather than disorganizers, helpers and not
+hinderers in the upward movement of the race. This is the main fact
+we have to depend on. The right hand of the great organism is a little
+stronger than the left, that is all.
+
+Now and then we come across a left-handed man. So now and then we find
+a tribe or a generation, the subject of what we may call moral
+left-handedness, but that need not trouble us about our formula. All we
+have to do is to spread the average over a wider territory or a longer
+period of time. Any race or period that insists on being left-handed
+must go under if it comes in contact with a right-handed one. If there
+were, as a general rule, fifty-one rogues in the hundred instead
+of forty-nine, all other qualities of mind and body being equally
+distributed between the two sections, the order of things would sooner
+or later end in universal disorder. It is the question between the leak
+and the pumps.
+
+It does not seem very likely that the Creator of all things is taken by
+surprise at witnessing anything any of his creatures do or think. Men
+have sought out many inventions, but they can have contrived nothing
+which did not exist as an idea in the omniscient consciousness to which
+past, present, and future are alike Now.
+
+We read what travellers tell us about the King of Dahomey, or the
+Fejee Island people, or the short and simple annals of the celebrities
+recorded in the Newgate Calendar, and do not know just what to make
+of these brothers and sisters of the race; but I do not suppose an
+intelligence even as high as the angelic beings, to stop short there,
+would see anything very peculiar or wonderful about them, except as
+everything is wonderful and unlike everything else.
+
+It is very curious to see how science, that is, looking at and arranging
+the facts of a case with our own eyes and our own intelligence, without
+minding what somebody else has said, or how some old majority vote went
+in a pack of intriguing ecclesiastics,--I say it is very curious to see
+how science is catching up with one superstition after another.
+
+There is a recognized branch of science familiar to all those who know
+anything of the studies relating to life, under the name of Teratology.
+It deals with all sorts of monstrosities which are to be met with in
+living beings, and more especially in animals. It is found that what
+used to be called lusus naturae, or freaks of nature, are just as much
+subject to laws as the naturally developed forms of living creatures.
+
+The rustic looks at the Siamese twins, and thinks he is contemplating
+an unheard-of anomaly; but there are plenty of cases like theirs in the
+books of scholars, and though they are not quite so common as double
+cherries, the mechanism of their formation is not a whit more mysterious
+than that of the twinned fruits. Such cases do not disturb the average
+arrangement; we have Changs and Engs at one pole, and Cains and Abels at
+the other. One child is born with six fingers on each hand, and another
+falls short by one or more fingers of his due allowance; but the glover
+puts his faith in the great law of averages, and makes his gloves with
+five fingers apiece, trusting nature for their counterparts.
+
+Thinking people are not going to be scared out of explaining or at least
+trying to explain things by the shrieks of persons whose beliefs are
+disturbed thereby. Comets were portents to Increase Mather, President of
+Harvard College; “preachers of Divine wrath, heralds and messengers
+of evil tidings to the world.” It is not so very long since Professor
+Winthrop was teaching at the same institution. I can remember two of his
+boys very well, old boys, it is true, they were, and one of them wore a
+three-cornered cocked hat; but the father of these boys, whom, as I say,
+I can remember, had to defend himself against the minister of the Old
+South Church for the impiety of trying to account for earthquakes on
+natural principles. And his ancestor, Governor Winthrop, would probably
+have shaken his head over his descendant's dangerous audacity, if one
+may judge by the solemn way in which he mentions poor Mrs. Hutchinson's
+unpleasant experience, which so grievously disappointed her maternal
+expectations. But people used always to be terribly frightened by those
+irregular vital products which we now call “interesting specimens” and
+carefully preserve in jars of alcohol. It took next to nothing to make a
+panic; a child was born a few centuries ago with six teeth in its head,
+and about that time the Turks began gaining great advantages over the
+Christians. Of course there was an intimate connection between the
+prodigy and the calamity. So said the wise men of that day.
+
+--All these out-of-the-way cases are studied connectedly now, and are
+found to obey very exact rules. With a little management one can even
+manufacture living monstrosities. Malformed salmon and other fish can be
+supplied in quantity, if anybody happens to want them. Now, what all
+I have said is tending to is exactly this, namely, that just as
+the celestial movements are regulated by fixed laws, just as bodily
+monstrosities are produced according to rule, and with as good reason
+as normal shapes, so obliquities of character are to be accounted for on
+perfectly natural principles; they are just as capable of classification
+as the bodily ones, and they all diverge from a certain average or
+middle term which is the type of its kind. If life had been a little
+longer I would have written a number of essays for which, as it is, I
+cannot expect to have time. I have set down the titles of a hundred or
+more, and I have often been tempted to publish these, for according
+to my idea, the title of a book very often renders the rest of it
+unnecessary. “Moral Teratology,” for instance, which is marked No. 67
+on my list of “Essays Potential, not Actual,” suggests sufficiently well
+what I should be like to say in the pages it would preface. People hold
+up their hands at a moral monster as if there was no reason for his
+existence but his own choice. That was a fine specimen we read of in the
+papers a few years ago, the Frenchman, it may be remembered, who used
+to waylay and murder young women, and after appropriating their effects,
+bury their bodies in a private cemetery he kept for that purpose. It
+is very natural, and I do not say it is not very proper, to hang such
+eccentric persons as this; but it is not clear whether his vagaries
+produce any more sensation at Headquarters than the meek enterprises of
+the mildest of city missionaries. For the study of Moral Teratology will
+teach you that you do not get such a malformed character as that without
+a long chain of causes to account for it; and if you only knew those
+causes, you would know perfectly well what to expect.
+
+You may feel pretty sure that our friend of the private cemetery was not
+the child of pious and intelligent parents; that he was not nurtured by
+the best of mothers, and educated by the most judicious teachers;
+and that he did not come of a lineage long known and honored for its
+intellectual and moral qualities. Suppose that one should go to the
+worst quarter of the city and pick out the worst-looking child of the
+worst couple he could find, and then train him up successively at the
+School for Infant Rogues, the Academy for Young Scamps, and the College
+for Complete Criminal Education, would it be reasonable to expect a
+Francois Xavier or a Henry Martyn to be the result of such a training?
+The traditionists, in whose presumptuous hands the science of
+anthropology has been trusted from time immemorial, have insisted on
+eliminating cause and effect from the domain of morals. When they
+have come across a moral monster they have seemed to think that he put
+himself together, having a free choice of all the constituents which
+make up manhood, and that consequently no punishment could be too bad
+for him.
+
+I say, hang him and welcome, if that is the best thing for society; hate
+him, in a certain sense, as you hate a rattlesnake, but, if you pretend
+to be a philosopher, recognize the fact that what you hate in him is
+chiefly misfortune, and that if you had been born with his villanous low
+forehead and poisoned instincts, and bred among creatures of the Races
+Maudites whose natural history has to be studied like that of beasts
+of prey and vermin, you would not have been sitting there in your
+gold-bowed spectacles and passing judgment on the peccadilloes of your
+fellow-creatures.
+
+I have seen men and women so disinterested and noble, and devoted to the
+best works, that it appeared to me if any good and faithful servant was
+entitled to enter into the joys of his Lord, such as these might be.
+But I do not know that I ever met with a human being who seemed to me to
+have a stronger claim on the pitying consideration and kindness of
+his Maker than a wretched, puny, crippled, stunted child that I saw in
+Newgate, who was pointed out as one of the most notorious and inveterate
+little thieves in London. I have no doubt that some of those who
+were looking at this pitiable morbid secretion of the diseased social
+organism thought they were very virtuous for hating him so heartily.
+
+It is natural, and in one sense is all right enough. I want to catch a
+thief and put the extinguisher on an incendiary as much as my neighbors
+do; but I have two sides to my consciousness as I have two sides to my
+heart, one carrying dark, impure blood, and the other the bright stream
+which has been purified and vivified by the great source of life and
+death,--the oxygen of the air which gives all things their vital heat,
+and burns all things at last to ashes.
+
+One side of me loves and hates; the other side of me judges, say rather
+pleads and suspends judgment. I think, if I were left to myself, I
+should hang a rogue and then write his apology and subscribe to a neat
+monument, commemorating, not his virtues, but his misfortunes. I should,
+perhaps, adorn the marble with emblems, as is the custom with regard to
+the more regular and normally constituted members of society. It would
+not be proper to put the image of a lamb upon the stone which marked the
+resting-place of him of the private cemetery. But I would not hesitate
+to place the effigy of a wolf or a hyena upon the monument. I do not
+judge these animals, I only kill them or shut them up. I presume they
+stand just as well with their Maker as lambs and kids, and the existence
+of such beings is a perpetual plea for God Almighty's poor, yelling,
+scalping Indians, his weasand-stopping Thugs, his despised felons,
+his murdering miscreants, and all the unfortunates whom we, picked
+individuals of a picked class of a picked race, scrubbed, combed, and
+catechized from our cradles upward, undertake to find accommodations
+for in another state of being where it is to be hoped they will have a
+better chance than they had in this.
+
+The Master paused, and took off his great round spectacles. I could not
+help thinking that he looked benevolent enough to pardon Judas Iscariot
+just at that moment, though his features can knot themselves up pretty,
+formidably on occasion.
+
+--You are somewhat of a phrenologist, I judge, by the way you talk of
+instinctive and inherited tendencies--I said.
+
+--They tell me I ought to be,--he answered, parrying my question, as
+I thought.--I have had a famous chart made out of my cerebral organs,
+according to which I ought to have been--something more than a poor
+Magister Artaum.
+
+--I thought a shade of regret deepened the lines on his broad,
+antique-looking forehead, and I began talking about all the sights I had
+seen in the way of monstrosities, of which I had a considerable list,
+as you will see when I tell you my weakness in that direction. This, you
+understand, Beloved, is private and confidential.
+
+I pay my quarter of a dollar and go into all the side-shows that follow
+the caravans and circuses round the country. I have made friends of all
+the giants and all the dwarfs. I became acquainted with Monsieur Bihin,
+le plus bel homme du monde, and one of the biggest, a great many years
+ago, and have kept up my agreeable relations with him ever since. He
+is a most interesting giant, with a softness of voice and tenderness
+of feeling which I find very engaging. I was on friendly terms with Mr.
+Charles Freeman, a very superior giant of American birth, seven feet
+four, I think, in height, “double-jointed,” of mylodon muscularity, the
+same who in a British prize-ring tossed the Tipton Slasher from one
+side of the rope to the other, and now lies stretched, poor fellow! in a
+mighty grave in the same soil which holds the sacred ashes of Cribb, and
+the honored dust of Burke,--not the one “commonly called the sublime,”
+ but that other Burke to whom Nature had denied the sense of hearing lest
+he should be spoiled by listening to the praises of the admiring circles
+which looked on his dear-bought triumphs. Nor have I despised those
+little ones whom that devout worshipper of Nature in her exceptional
+forms, the distinguished Barnum, has introduced to the notice of
+mankind. The General touches his chapeau to me, and the Commodore gives
+me a sailor's greeting. I have had confidential interviews with the
+double-headed daughter of Africa,--so far, at least, as her twofold
+personality admitted of private confidences. I have listened to the
+touching experiences of the Bearded Lady, whose rough cheeks belie her
+susceptible heart. Miss Jane Campbell has allowed me to question her on
+the delicate subject of avoirdupois equivalents; and the armless fair
+one, whose embrace no monarch could hope to win, has wrought me a
+watch-paper with those despised digits which have been degraded from
+gloves to boots in our evolution from the condition of quadrumana.
+
+I hope you have read my experiences as good-naturedly as the old Master
+listened to them. He seemed to be pleased with my whim, and promised to
+go with me to see all the side-shows of the next caravan. Before I left
+him he wrote my name in a copy of the new edition of his book, telling
+me that it would not all be new to me by a great deal, for he often
+talked what he had printed to make up for having printed a good deal of
+what he had talked.
+
+Here is the passage of his Poem the Young Astronomer read to us.
+
+ WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.
+
+ IV
+
+ From my lone turret as I look around
+ O'er the green meadows to the ring of blue,
+ From slope, from summit, and from half-hid vale
+ The sky is stabbed with dagger-pointed spires,
+ Their gilded symbols whirling in the wind,
+ Their brazen tongues proclaiming to the world,
+ Here truth is sold, the only genuine ware;
+ See that it has our trade-mark!
+ You will buy Poison instead of food across the way,
+ The lies of--this or that, each several name
+ The standard's blazon and the battle-cry
+ Of some true-gospel faction, and again
+ The token of the Beast to all beside.
+ And grouped round each I see a huddling crowd
+ Alike in all things save the words they use;
+ In love, in longing, hate and fear the same.
+
+ Whom do we trust and serve? We speak of one
+ And bow to many; Athens still would find
+ The shrines of all she worshipped safe within
+ Our tall barbarian temples, and the thrones
+ That crowned Olympus mighty as of old.
+ The god of music rules the Sabbath choir;
+ The lyric muse must leave the sacred nine
+ To help us please the dilettante's ear;
+ Plutus limps homeward with us, as we leave
+ The portals of the temple where we knelt
+ And listened while the god of eloquence
+ (Hermes of ancient days, but now disguised
+ In sable vestments) with that other god
+ Somnus, the son of Erebus and Nog,
+ Fights in unequal contest for our souls;
+ The dreadful sovereign of the under world
+ Still shakes his sceptre at us, and we hear
+ The baying of the triple-throated hound;
+ Eros-is young as ever, and as fair
+ The lovely Goddess born of ocean's foam.
+
+ These be thy gods, O Israel! Who is he,
+ The one ye name and tell us that ye serve,
+ Whom ye would call me from my lonely tower
+ To worship with the many-headed throng?
+ Is it the God that walked in Eden's grove
+ In the cool hour to seek our guilty sire?
+ The God who dealt with Abraham as the sons
+ Of that old patriarch deal with other men?
+ The jealous God of Moses, one who feels
+ An image as an insult, and is wroth
+ With him who made it and his child unborn?
+ The God who plagued his people for the sin
+ Of their adulterous king, beloved of him,
+ The same who offers to a chosen few
+ The right to praise him in eternal song
+ While a vast shrieking world of endless woe
+ Blends its dread chorus with their rapturous hymn?
+ Is this the God ye mean, or is it he
+ Who heeds the sparrow's fall, whose loving heart
+ Is as the pitying father's to his child,
+ Whose lesson to his children is, “Forgive,”
+ Whose plea for all, “They know not what they do”
+
+ I claim the right of knowing whom I serve,
+ Else is my service idle; He that asks
+ My homage asks it from a reasoning soul.
+ To crawl is not to worship; we have learned
+ A drill of eyelids, bended neck and knee,
+ Hanging our prayers on binges, till we ape
+ The flexures of the many-jointed worm.
+ Asia has taught her Aliabs and salaams
+ To the world's children,--we have grown to men!
+ We who have rolled the sphere beneath our feet
+ To find a virgin forest, as we lay
+ The beams of our rude temple, first of all
+ Must frame its doorway high enough for man
+ To pass unstooping; knowing as we do
+ That He who shaped us last of living forms
+ Has long enough been served by creeping things,
+ Reptiles that left their foot-prints in the sand
+ Of old sea-margins that have turned to stone,
+ And men who learned their ritual; we demand
+ To know him first, then trust him and then love
+ When we have found him worthy of our love,
+ Tried by our own poor hearts and not before;
+ He must be truer than the truest friend,
+ He must be tenderer than a woman's love,
+ A father better than the best of sires;
+ Kinder than she who bore us, though we sin
+ Oftener than did the brother we are told,
+ We-poor ill-tempered mortals-must forgive,
+ Though seven times sinning threescore times and ten.
+
+ This is the new world's gospel: Be ye men!
+ Try well the legends of the children's time;
+ Ye are the chosen people, God has led
+ Your steps across the desert of the deep
+ As now across the desert of the shore;
+ Mountains are cleft before you as the sea
+ Before the wandering tribe of Israel's sons;
+ Still onward rolls the thunderous caravan,
+ Its coming printed on the western sky,
+ A cloud by day, by night a pillared flame;
+ Your prophets are a hundred unto one
+ Of them of old who cried, “Thus saith the Lord”;
+ They told of cities that should fall in heaps,
+ But yours of mightier cities that shall rise
+ Where yet the lonely fishers spread their nets,
+ Where hides the fox and hoots the midnight owl;
+ The tree of knowledge in your garden grows
+ Not single, but at every humble door;
+ Its branches lend you their immortal food,
+ That fills you with the sense of what ye are,
+ No servants of an altar hewed and carved
+ From senseless stone by craft of human hands,
+ Rabbi, or dervish, Brahmin, bishop, bonze,
+ But masters of the charm with which they work
+ To keep your hands from that forbidden tree!
+
+ Ye that have tasted that divinest fruit,
+ Look on this world of yours with opened eyes!
+ Ye are as gods! Nay, makers of your gods,
+ Each day ye break an image in your shrine
+ And plant a fairer image where it stood
+ Where is the Moloch of your fathers' creed,
+ Whose fires of torment burned for span-long babes?
+ Fit object for a tender mother's love!
+ Why not? It was a bargain duly made
+ For these same infants through the surety's act
+ Intrusted with their all for earth and heaven,
+ By Him who chose their guardian, knowing well
+ His fitness for the task,--this, even this,
+ Was the true doctrine only yesterday
+ As thoughts are reckoned,--and to-day you hear
+ In words that sound as if from human tongues
+ Those monstrous, uncouth horrors of the past
+ That blot the blue of heaven and shame the earth
+ As would the saurians of the age of slime,
+ Awaking from their stony sepulchres
+ And wallowing hateful in the eye of day!
+
+Four of us listened to these lines as the young man read them,--the
+Master and myself and our two ladies. This was the little party we
+got up to hear him read. I do not think much of it was very new to the
+Master or myself. At any rate, he said to me when we were alone, That is
+the kind of talk the “natural man,” as the theologians call him, is apt
+to fall into.
+
+--I thought it was the Apostle Paul, and not the theologians, that used
+the term “natural man”, I ventured to suggest.
+
+--I should like to know where the Apostle Paul learned English?--said
+the Master, with the look of one who does not mean to be tripped up if
+he can help himself.--But at any rate,--he continued,--the “natural
+man,” so called, is worth listening to now and then, for he didn't make
+his nature, and the Devil did n't make it; and if the Almighty made it,
+I never saw or heard of anything he made that wasn't worth attending to.
+
+The young man begged the Lady to pardon anything that might sound
+harshly in these crude thoughts of his. He had been taught strange
+things, he said, from old theologies, when he was a child, and had
+thought his way out of many of his early superstitions. As for the Young
+Girl, our Scheherezade, he said to her that she must have got dreadfully
+tired (at which she colored up and said it was no such thing), and he
+promised that, to pay for her goodness in listening, he would give her a
+lesson in astronomy the next fair evening, if she would be his scholar,
+at which she blushed deeper than before, and said something which
+certainly was not No.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+There was no sooner a vacancy on our side of the table, than the Master
+proposed a change of seats which would bring the Young Astronomer into
+our immediate neighborhood. The Scarabee was to move into the place of
+our late unlamented associate, the Man of Letters, so called. I was to
+take his place, the Master to take mine, and the young man that which
+had been occupied by the Master. The advantages of this change were
+obvious. The old Master likes an audience, plainly enough; and with
+myself on one side of him, and the young student of science, whose
+speculative turn is sufficiently shown in the passages from his poem,
+on the other side, he may feel quite sure of being listened to. There
+is only one trouble in the arrangement, and that is that it brings this
+young man not only close to us, but also next to our Scheherezade.
+
+I am obliged to confess that he has shown occasional marks of
+inattention even while the Master was discoursing in a way that I found
+agreeable enough. I am quite sure it is no intentional disrespect to the
+old Master. It seems to me rather that he has become interested in the
+astronomical lessons he has been giving the Young Girl. He has studied
+so much alone, that it is naturally a pleasure to him to impart some of
+his knowledge. As for his young pupil, she has often thought of being
+a teacher herself, so that she is of course very glad to acquire any
+accomplishment that may be useful to her in that capacity. I do not see
+any reason why some of the boarders should have made such remarks as
+they have done. One cannot teach astronomy to advantage, without going
+out of doors, though I confess that when two young people go out by
+daylight to study the stars, as these young folks have done once or
+twice, I do not so much wonder at a remark or suggestion from those who
+have nothing better to do than study their neighbors.
+
+I ought to have told the reader before this that I found, as I
+suspected, that our innocent-looking Scheherezade was at the bottom of
+the popgun business. I watched her very closely, and one day, when the
+little monkey made us all laugh by stopping the Member of the Haouse in
+the middle of a speech he was repeating to us,--it was his great effort
+of the season on a bill for the protection of horn-pout in Little Muddy
+River,--I caught her making the signs that set him going. At a slight
+tap of her knife against her plate, he got all ready, and presently I
+saw her cross her knife and fork upon her plate, and as she did so, pop!
+went the small piece of artillery. The Member of the Haouse was just
+saying that this bill hit his constitooents in their most vital--when
+a pellet hit him in the feature of his countenance most exposed to
+aggressions and least tolerant of liberties. The Member resented this
+unparliamentary treatment by jumping up from his chair and giving the
+small aggressor a good shaking, at the same time seizing the implement
+which had caused his wrath and breaking it into splinters. The Boy
+blubbered, the Young Girl changed color, and looked as if she would cry,
+and that was the last of these interruptions.
+
+I must own that I have sometimes wished we had the popgun back, for it
+answered all the purpose of “the previous question” in a deliberative
+assembly. No doubt the Young Girl was capricious in setting the little
+engine at work, but she cut short a good many disquisitions that
+threatened to be tedious. I find myself often wishing for her and her
+small fellow-conspirator's intervention, in company where I am supposed
+to be enjoying myself. When my friend the politician gets too far into
+the personal details of the quorum pars magna fui, I find myself all
+at once exclaiming in mental articulation, Popgun! When my friend the
+story-teller begins that protracted narrative which has often emptied
+me of all my voluntary laughter for the evening, he has got but a very
+little way when I say to myself, What wouldn't I give for a pellet from
+that popgun! In short, so useful has that trivial implement proved as a
+jaw-stopper and a boricide, that I never go to a club or a dinner-party,
+without wishing the company included our Scheherezade and That Boy with
+his popgun.
+
+How clearly I see now into the mechanism of the Young Girl's audacious
+contrivance for regulating our table-talk! Her brain is tired half
+the time, and she is too nervous to listen patiently to what a quieter
+person would like well enough, or at least would not be annoyed by. It
+amused her to invent a scheme for managing the headstrong talkers, and
+also let off a certain spirit of mischief which in some of these nervous
+girls shows itself in much more questionable forms. How cunning these
+half-hysteric young persons are, to be sure! I had to watch a long
+time before I detected the telegraphic communication between the two
+conspirators. I have no doubt she had sedulously schooled the little
+monkey to his business, and found great delight in the task of
+instruction.
+
+But now that our Scheherezade has become a scholar instead of a teacher,
+she seems to be undergoing a remarkable transformation. Astronomy is
+indeed a noble science. It may well kindle the enthusiasm of a youthful
+nature. I fancy at times that I see something of that starry light which
+I noticed in the young man's eyes gradually kindling in hers. But can it
+be astronomy alone that does it? Her color comes and goes more readily
+than when the old Master sat next her on the left. It is having this
+young man at her side, I suppose. Of course it is. I watch her with
+great, I may say tender interest. If he would only fall in love with
+her, seize upon her wandering affections and fancies as the Romans
+seized the Sabine virgins, lift her out of herself and her listless and
+weary drudgeries, stop the outflow of this young life which is draining
+itself away in forced literary labor--dear me, dear me--if, if, if--
+
+ “If I were God
+ An' ye were Martin Elginbrod!”
+
+I am afraid all this may never be. I fear that he is too much given to
+lonely study, to self-companionship, to all sorts of questionings, to
+looking at life as at a solemn show where he is only a spectator. I dare
+not build up a romance on what I have yet seen. My reader may, but I
+will answer for nothing. I shall wait and see.
+
+The old Master and I have at last made that visit to the Scarabee which
+we had so long promised ourselves.
+
+When we knocked at his door he came and opened it, instead of saying,
+Come in. He was surprised, I have no doubt, at the sound of our
+footsteps; for he rarely has a visitor, except the little monkey of a
+boy, and he may have thought a troop of marauders were coming to rob
+him of his treasures. Collectors feel so rich in the possession of their
+rarer specimens, that they forget how cheap their precious things
+seem to common eyes, and are as afraid of being robbed as if they were
+dealers in diamonds. They have the name of stealing from each other
+now and then, it is true, but many of their priceless possessions would
+hardly tempt a beggar. Values are artificial: you will not be able to
+get ten cents of the year 1799 for a dime.
+
+The Scarabee was reassured as soon as he saw our faces, and he welcomed
+us not ungraciously into his small apartment. It was hard to find a
+place to sit down, for all the chairs were already occupied by cases and
+boxes full of his favorites. I began, therefore, looking round the room.
+Bugs of every size and aspect met my eyes wherever they turned. I felt
+for the moment as I suppose a man may feel in a fit of delirium tremens.
+Presently my attention was drawn towards a very odd-looking insect on
+the mantelpiece. This animal was incessantly raising its arms as if
+towards heaven and clasping them together, as though it were wrestling
+in prayer.
+
+Do look at this creature,--I said to the Master, he seems to be very
+hard at work at his devotions.
+
+Mantas religiosa,--said the Master,--I know the praying rogue. Mighty
+devout and mighty cruel; crushes everything he can master, or impales
+it on his spiny shanks and feeds upon it, like a gluttonous wretch as
+he is. I have seen the Mantis religiosa on a larger scale than this, now
+and then. A sacred insect, sir,--sacred to many tribes of men; to the
+Hottentots, to the Turks, yes, sir, and to the Frenchmen, who call the
+rascal prie dieu, and believe him to have special charge of children
+that have lost their way.
+
+Doesn't it seem as if there was a vein of satire as well as of fun
+that ran through the solemn manifestations of creative wisdom? And of
+deception too--do you see how nearly those dried leaves resemble an
+insect?
+
+They do, indeed,--I answered,--but not so closely as to deceive me. They
+remind me of an insect, but I could not mistake them for one.
+
+--Oh, you couldn't mistake those dried leaves for an insect, hey? Well,
+how can you mistake that insect for dried leaves? That is the question;
+for insect it is,--phyllum siccifolium, the “walking leaf,” as some have
+called it.--The Master had a hearty laugh at my expense.
+
+The Scarabee did not seem to be amused at the Master's remarks or at
+my blunder. Science is always perfectly serious to him; and he would
+no more laugh over anything connected with his study, than a clergyman
+would laugh at a funeral.
+
+They send me all sorts of trumpery,--he said, Orthoptera and
+Lepidoptera; as if a coleopterist--a scarabeeist--cared for such things.
+This business is no boy's play to me. The insect population of the world
+is not even catalogued yet, and a lifetime given to the scarabees is
+a small contribution enough to their study. I like your men of general
+intelligence well enough,--your Linnwuses and your Buffons and your
+Cuviers; but Cuvier had to go to Latreille for his insects, and if
+Latreille had been able to consult me,--yes, me, gentlemen!--he would
+n't have made the blunders he did about some of the coleoptera.
+
+The old Master, as I think you must have found out by this time,--you,
+Beloved, I mean, who read every word,--has a reasonably good opinion,
+as perhaps he has a right to have, of his own intelligence and
+acquirements. The Scarabee's exultation and glow as he spoke of the
+errors of the great entomologist which he himself could have corrected,
+had the effect on the old Master which a lusty crow has upon the
+feathered champion of the neighboring barnyard. He too knew something
+about insects. Had he not discovered a new tabanus? Had he not
+made preparations of the very coleoptera the Scarabee studied so
+exclusively,--preparations which the illustrious Swammerdam would not
+have been ashamed of, and dissected a melolontha as exquisitely as
+Strauss Durckheim himself ever did it? So the Master, recalling these
+studies of his and certain difficult and disputed points at which he
+had labored in one of his entomological paroxysms, put a question which
+there can be little doubt was intended to puzzle the Scarabee, and
+perhaps,--for the best of us is human (I am beginning to love the old
+Master, but he has his little weaknesses, thank Heaven, like the rest
+of us),--I say perhaps, was meant to show that some folks knew as much
+about some things as some other folks.
+
+The little dried-up specialist did not dilate into fighting dimensions
+as--perhaps, again--the Master may have thought he would. He looked a
+mild surprise, but remained as quiet as one of his own beetles when
+you touch him and he makes believe he is dead. The blank silence became
+oppressive. Was the Scarabee crushed, as so many of his namesakes are
+crushed, under the heel of this trampling omniscient?
+
+At last the Scarabee creaked out very slowly, “Did I understand you to
+ask the following question, to wit?” and so forth; for I was quite
+out of my depth, and only know that he repeated the Master's somewhat
+complex inquiry, word for word.
+
+--That was exactly my question,--said the Master,--and I hope it is not
+uncivil to ask one which seems to me to be a puzzler.
+
+Not uncivil in the least,--said the Scarabee, with something as much
+like a look of triumph as his dry face permitted,--not uncivil at all,
+but a rather extraordinary question to ask at this date of entomological
+history. I settled that question some years ago, by a series of
+dissections, six-and-thirty in number, reported in an essay I can show
+you and would give you a copy of, but that I am a little restricted in
+my revenue, and our Society has to be economical, so I have but this
+one. You see, sir,--and he went on with elytra and antennae and tarsi
+and metatarsi and tracheae and stomata and wing-muscles and leg-muscles
+and ganglions,--all plain enough, I do not doubt, to those accustomed
+to handling dor-bugs and squash-bugs and such undesirable objects of
+affection to all but naturalists.
+
+He paused when he got through, not for an answer, for there evidently
+was none, but to see how the Master would take it. The Scarabee had had
+it all his own way.
+
+The Master was loyal to his own generous nature. He felt as a peaceful
+citizen might feel who had squared off at a stranger for some supposed
+wrong, and suddenly discovered that he was undertaking to chastise Mr.
+Dick Curtis, “the pet of the Fancy,” or Mr. Joshua Hudson; “the John
+Bull fighter.”
+
+He felt the absurdity of his discomfiture, for he turned to me
+good-naturedly, and said,
+
+ “Poor Johnny Raw! What madness could impel
+ So rum a flat to face so prime a swell?”
+
+To tell the truth, I rather think the Master enjoyed his own defeat. The
+Scarabee had a right to his victory; a man does not give his life to the
+study of a single limited subject for nothing, and the moment we come
+across a first-class expert we begin to take a pride in his superiority.
+It cannot offend us, who have no right at all to be his match on his
+own ground. Besides, there is a very curious sense of satisfaction
+in getting a fair chance to sneer at ourselves and scoff at our own
+pretensions. The first person of our dual consciousness has been
+smirking and rubbing his hands and felicitating himself on his
+innumerable superiorities, until we have grown a little tired of him.
+Then, when the other fellow, the critic, the cynic, the Shimei, who has
+been quiet, letting self-love and self-glorification have their perfect
+work, opens fire upon the first half of our personality and overwhelms
+it with that wonderful vocabulary of abuse of which he is the unrivalled
+master, there is no denying that he enjoys it immensely; and as he is
+ourself for the moment, or at least the chief portion of ourself (the
+other half-self retiring into a dim corner of semiconsciousness and
+cowering under the storm of sneers and contumely,--you follow me
+perfectly, Beloved,--the way is as plain as the path of the babe to the
+maternal fount), as, I say, the abusive fellow is the chief part of us
+for the time, and he likes to exercise his slanderous vocabulary, we on
+the whole enjoy a brief season of self-depreciation and self-scolding
+very heartily.
+
+It is quite certain that both of us, the Master and myself, conceived on
+the instant a respect for the Scarabee which we had not before felt.
+He had grappled with one difficulty at any rate and mastered it. He had
+settled one thing, at least, so it appeared, in such a way that it was
+not to be brought up again. And now he was determined, if it cost him
+the effort of all his remaining days, to close another discussion and
+put forever to rest the anxious doubts about the larva of meloe.
+
+--Your thirty-six dissections must have cost you a deal of time and
+labor,--the Master said.
+
+--What have I to do with time, but to fill it up with labor?--answered
+the Scarabee.--It is my meat and drink to work over my beetles. My
+holidays are when I get a rare specimen. My rest is to watch the habits
+of insects, those that I do not pretend to study. Here is my muscarium,
+my home for house-flies; very interesting creatures; here they breed and
+buzz and feed and enjoy themselves, and die in a good old age of a few
+months. My favorite insect lives in this other case; she is at home, but
+in her private-chamber; you shall see her.
+
+He tapped on the glass lightly, and a large, gray, hairy spider came
+forth from the hollow of a funnel-like web.
+
+--And this is all the friend you have to love? said the Master, with a
+tenderness in his voice which made the question very significant.
+
+--Nothing else loves me better than she does, that I know of,--he
+answered.
+
+--To think of it! Not even a dog to lick his hand, or a cat to purr
+and rub her fur against him! Oh, these boarding-houses, these
+boarding-houses! What forlorn people one sees stranded on their desolate
+shores! Decayed gentlewomen with the poor wrecks of what once made their
+households beautiful, disposed around them in narrow chambers as they
+best may be, coming down day after day, poor souls! to sit at the board
+with strangers; their hearts full of sad memories which have no language
+but a sigh, no record but the lines of sorrow on their features;
+orphans, creatures with growing tendrils and nothing to cling to; lonely
+rich men, casting about them what to do with the wealth they never
+knew how to enjoy, when they shall no longer worry over keeping and
+increasing it; young men and young women, left to their instincts,
+unguarded, unwatched, save by malicious eyes, which are sure to be
+found and to find occupation in these miscellaneous collections of human
+beings; and now and then a shred of humanity like this little adust
+specialist, with just the resources needed to keep the “radical
+moisture” from entirely exhaling from his attenuated organism, and
+busying himself over a point of science, or compiling a hymn-book,
+or editing a grammar or a dictionary;--such are the tenants of
+boarding-houses whom we cannot think of without feeling how sad it is
+when the wind is not tempered to the shorn lamb; when the solitary,
+whose hearts are shrivelling, are not set in families!
+
+The Master was greatly interested in the Scarabee's Muscarium.
+
+--I don't remember,--he said,--that I have heard of such a thing as that
+before. Mighty curious creatures, these same house-flies! Talk about
+miracles! Was there ever anything more miraculous, so far as our common
+observation goes, than the coming and the going of these creatures? Why
+didn't Job ask where the flies come from and where they go to? I did
+not say that you and I don't know, but how many people do know anything
+about it? Where are the cradles of the young flies? Where are the
+cemeteries of the dead ones, or do they die at all except when we kill
+them? You think all the flies of the year are dead and gone, and there
+comes a warm day and all at once there is a general resurrection of 'em;
+they had been taking a nap, that is all.
+
+--I suppose you do not trust your spider in the Muscarium?--said I,
+addressing the Scarabee.
+
+--Not exactly,--he answered,--she is a terrible creature. She loves
+me, I think, but she is a killer and a cannibal among other insects. I
+wanted to pair her with a male spider, but it wouldn't do.
+
+-Wouldn't do?--said I,--why not? Don't spiders have their mates as well
+as other folks?
+
+-Oh yes, sometimes; but the females are apt to be particular, and if
+they don't like the mate you offer them they fall upon him and kill him
+and eat him up. You see they are a great deal bigger and stronger
+than the males, and they are always hungry and not always particularly
+anxious to have one of the other sex bothering round.
+
+--Woman's rights!--said I,--there you have it! Why don't those
+talking ladies take a spider as their emblem? Let them form arachnoid
+associations, spinsters and spiders would be a good motto.
+
+--The Master smiled. I think it was an eleemosynary smile, for my
+pleasantry seems to me a particularly basso rilievo, as I look upon it
+in cold blood. But conversation at the best is only a thin sprinkling of
+occasional felicities set in platitudes and commonplaces. I never heard
+people talk like the characters in the “School for Scandal,”--I should
+very much like to.--I say the Master smiled. But the Scarabee did not
+relax a muscle of his countenance.
+
+--There are persons whom the very mildest of faecetiae sets off into
+such convulsions of laughter, that one is afraid lest they should injure
+themselves. Even when a jest misses fire completely, so that it is no
+jest at all, but only a jocular intention, they laugh just as heartily.
+Leave out the point of your story, get the word wrong on the duplicity
+of which the pun that was to excite hilarity depended, and they
+still honor your abortive attempt with the most lusty and vociferous
+merriment.
+
+There is a very opposite class of persons whom anything in the nature
+of a joke perplexes, troubles, and even sometimes irritates, seeming
+to make them think they are trifled with, if not insulted. If you are
+fortunate enough to set the whole table laughing, one of this class of
+persons will look inquiringly round, as if something had happened, and,
+seeing everybody apparently amused but himself, feel as if he was being
+laughed at, or at any rate as if something had been said which he was
+not to hear. Often, however, it does not go so far as this, and there
+is nothing more than mere insensibility to the cause of other people's
+laughter, a sort of joke-blindness, comparable to the well-known
+color-blindness with which many persons are afflicted as a congenital
+incapacity.
+
+I have never seen the Scarabee smile. I have seen him take off his
+goggles,--he breakfasts in these occasionally,--I suppose when he
+has been tiring his poor old eyes out over night gazing through his
+microscope,--I have seen him take his goggles off, I say, and stare
+about him, when the rest of us were laughing at something which amused
+us, but his features betrayed nothing more than a certain bewilderment,
+as if we had been foreigners talking in an unknown tongue. I do not
+think it was a mere fancy of mine that he bears a kind of resemblance
+to the tribe of insects he gives his life to studying. His shiny black
+coat; his rounded back, convex with years of stooping over his minute
+work; his angular movements, made natural to him by his habitual style
+of manipulation; the aridity of his organism, with which his voice is
+in perfect keeping;--all these marks of his special sedentary occupation
+are so nearly what might be expected, and indeed so much, in accordance
+with the more general fact that a man's aspect is subdued to the look
+of what he works in, that I do not feel disposed to accuse myself of
+exaggeration in my account of the Scarabee's appearance. But I think
+he has learned something else of his coleopterous friends. The beetles
+never smile. Their physiognomy is not adapted to the display of the
+emotions; the lateral movement of their jaws being effective for
+alimentary purposes, but very limited in its gamut of expression. It is
+with these unemotional beings that the Scarabee passes his life. He has
+but one object, and that is perfectly serious, to his mind, in fact,
+of absorbing interest and importance. In one aspect of the matter he is
+quite right, for if the Creator has taken the trouble to make one of His
+creatures in just such a way and not otherwise, from the beginning of
+its existence on our planet in ages of unknown remoteness to the present
+time, the man who first explains His idea to us is charged with a
+revelation. It is by no means impossible that there may be angels in
+the celestial hierarchy to whom it would be new and interesting. I have
+often thought that spirits of a higher order than man might be willing
+to learn something from a human mind like that of Newton, and I see no
+reason why an angelic being might not be glad to hear a lecture from Mr.
+Huxley, or Mr. Tyndall, or one of our friends at Cambridge.
+
+I have been sinuous as the Links of Forth seen from Stirling Castle,
+or as that other river which threads the Berkshire valley and runs, a
+perennial stream, through my memory,--from which I please myself with
+thinking that I have learned to wind without fretting against the shore,
+or forgetting cohere I am flowing,--sinuous, I say, but not jerky,--no,
+not jerky nor hard to follow for a reader of the right sort, in the
+prime of life and full possession of his or her faculties.
+
+--All this last page or so, you readily understand, has been my
+private talk with you, the Reader. The cue of the conversation which
+I interrupted by this digression is to be found in the words “a good
+motto;” from which I begin my account of the visit again.
+
+--Do you receive many visitors,--I mean vertebrates, not articulates?
+--said the Master.
+
+I thought this question might perhaps bring il disiato riso, the
+long-wished-for smile, but the Scarabee interpreted it in the simplest
+zoological sense, and neglected its hint of playfulness with the most
+absolute unconsciousness, apparently, of anything not entirely serious
+and literal.
+
+--You mean friends, I suppose,--he answered.--I have correspondents, but
+I have no friends except this spider. I live alone, except when I go to
+my subsection meetings; I get a box of insects now and then, and send
+a few beetles to coleopterists in other entomological districts; but
+science is exacting, and a man that wants to leave his record has not
+much time for friendship. There is no great chance either for making
+friends among naturalists. People that are at work on different things
+do not care a great deal for each other's specialties, and people that
+work on the same thing are always afraid lest one should get ahead of
+the other, or steal some of his ideas before he has made them public.
+There are none too many people you can trust in your laboratory. I
+thought I had a friend once, but he watched me at work and stole the
+discovery of a new species from me, and, what is more, had it named
+after himself. Since that time I have liked spiders better than men.
+They are hungry and savage, but at any rate they spin their own webs out
+of their own insides. I like very well to talk with gentlemen that play
+with my branch of entomology; I do not doubt it amused you, and if you
+want to see anything I can show you, I shall have no scruple in letting
+you see it. I have never had any complaint to make of amatoors.
+
+--Upon my honor,--I would hold my right hand up and take my Bible-oath,
+if it was not busy with the pen at this moment,--I do not believe the
+Scarabee had the least idea in the world of the satire on the student of
+the Order of Things implied in his invitation to the “amatoor.” As for
+the Master, he stood fire perfectly, as he always does; but the idea
+that he, who had worked a considerable part of several seasons at
+examining and preparing insects, who believed himself to have given a
+new tabanus to the catalogue of native diptera, the idea that he was
+playing with science, and might be trusted anywhere as a harmless
+amateur, from whom no expert could possibly fear any anticipation of his
+unpublished discoveries, went beyond anything set down in that book of
+his which contained so much of the strainings of his wisdom.
+
+The poor little Scarabee began fidgeting round about this time, and
+uttering some half-audible words, apologetical, partly, and involving an
+allusion to refreshments. As he spoke, he opened a small cupboard, and
+as he did so out bolted an uninvited tenant of the same, long in person,
+sable in hue, and swift of movement, on seeing which the Scarabee simply
+said, without emotion, blatta, but I, forgetting what was due to good
+manners, exclaimed cockroach!
+
+We could not make up our minds to tax the Scarabee's hospitality,
+already levied upon by the voracious articulate. So we both alleged a
+state of utter repletion, and did not solve the mystery of the contents
+of the cupboard,--not too luxurious, it may be conjectured, and yet
+kindly offered, so that we felt there was a moist filament of the
+social instinct running like a nerve through that exsiccated and almost
+anhydrous organism.
+
+We left him with professions of esteem and respect which were real. We
+had gone, not to scoff, but very probably to smile, and I will not say
+we did not. But the Master was more thoughtful than usual.
+
+--If I had not solemnly dedicated myself to the study of the Order of
+Things,--he said,--I do verily believe I would give what remains to
+me of life to the investigation of some single point I could utterly
+eviscerate and leave finally settled for the instruction and, it may be,
+the admiration of all coming time. The keel ploughs ten thousand leagues
+of ocean and leaves no trace of its deep-graven furrows. The chisel
+scars only a few inches on the face of a rock, but the story it has
+traced is read by a hundred generations. The eagle leaves no track of
+his path, no memory of the place where he built his nest; but a patient
+mollusk has bored a little hole in a marble column of the temple of
+Serapis, and the monument of his labor outlasts the altar and the statue
+of the divinity.
+
+--Whew!--said I to myself,--that sounds a little like what we college
+boys used to call a “squirt.”--The Master guessed my thought and said,
+smiling,
+
+--That is from one of my old lectures. A man's tongue wags along quietly
+enough, but his pen begins prancing as soon as it touches paper. I know
+what you are thinking--you're thinking this is a squirt. That word has
+taken the nonsense out of a good many high-stepping fellows. But it
+did a good deal of harm too, and it was a vulgar lot that applied it
+oftenest.
+
+I am at last perfectly satisfied that our Landlady has no designs on
+the Capitalist, and as well convinced that any fancy of mine that he
+was like to make love to her was a mistake. The good woman is too much
+absorbed in her children, and more especially in “the Doctor,” as
+she delights to call her son, to be the prey of any foolish desire of
+changing her condition. She is doing very well as it is, and if the
+young man succeeds, as I have little question that he will, I think it
+probable enough that she will retire from her position as the head of
+a boarding-house. We have all liked the good woman who have lived with
+her,--I mean we three friends who have put ourselves on record. Her
+talk, I must confess, is a little diffuse and not always absolutely
+correct, according to the standard of the great Worcester; she is
+subject to lachrymose cataclysms and semiconvulsive upheavals when she
+reverts in memory to her past trials, and especially when she recalls
+the virtues of her deceased spouse, who was, I suspect, an adjunct such
+as one finds not rarely annexed to a capable matron in charge of an
+establishment like hers; that is to say, an easy-going, harmless,
+fetch-and-carry, carve-and-help, get-out-of-the-way kind of neuter, who
+comes up three times (as they say drowning people do) every day, namely,
+at breakfast, dinner, and tea, and disappears, submerged beneath the
+waves of life, during the intervals of these events.
+
+It is a source of genuine delight to me, who am of a kindly nature
+enough, according to my own reckoning, to watch the good woman, and see
+what looks of pride and affection she bestows upon her Benjamin, and
+how, in spite of herself, the maternal feeling betrays its influence in
+her dispensations of those delicacies which are the exceptional element
+in our entertainments. I will not say that Benjamin's mess, like his
+Scripture namesake's, is five times as large as that of any of the
+others, for this would imply either an economical distribution to the
+guests in general or heaping the poor young man's plate in a way that
+would spoil the appetite of an Esquimau, but you may be sure he fares
+well if anybody does; and I would have you understand that our Landlady
+knows what is what as well as who is who.
+
+I begin really to entertain very sanguine expectations of young Doctor
+Benjamin Franklin. He has lately been treating a patient of whose
+good-will may prove of great importance to him. The Capitalist hurt one
+of his fingers somehow or other, and requested our young doctor to take
+a look at it. The young doctor asked nothing better than to take charge
+of the case, which proved more serious than might have been at first
+expected, and kept him in attendance more than a week. There was one
+very odd thing about it. The Capitalist seemed to have an idea that he
+was like to be ruined in the matter of bandages,--small strips of worn
+linen which any old woman could have spared him from her rag-bag, but
+which, with that strange perversity which long habits of economy give
+to a good many elderly people, he seemed to think were as precious as
+if they had been turned into paper and stamped with promises to pay in
+thousands, from the national treasury. It was impossible to get this
+whim out of him, and the young doctor had tact enough to humor him in
+it. All this did not look very promising for the state of mind in which
+the patient was like to receive his bill for attendance when that should
+be presented. Doctor Benjamin was man enough, however, to come up to the
+mark, and sent him in such an account as it was becoming to send a
+man of ample means who had been diligently and skilfully cared for. He
+looked forward with some uncertainty as to how it would be received.
+Perhaps his patient would try to beat him down, and Doctor Benjamin made
+up his mind to have the whole or nothing. Perhaps he would pay the whole
+amount, but with a look, and possibly a word, that would make every
+dollar of it burn like a blister.
+
+Doctor Benjamin's conjectures were not unnatural, but quite remote from
+the actual fact. As soon as his patient had got entirely well, the young
+physician sent in his bill. The Capitalist requested him to step into
+his room with him, and paid the full charge in the handsomest and most
+gratifying way, thanking him for his skill and attention, and assuring
+him that he had had great satisfaction in submitting himself to such
+competent hands, and should certainly apply to him again in case he
+should have any occasion for a medical adviser. We must not be too
+sagacious in judging people by the little excrescences of their
+character. Ex pede Herculem may often prove safe enough, but ex verruca
+Tullium is liable to mislead a hasty judge of his fellow-men.
+
+I have studied the people called misers and thought a good deal about
+them. In former years I used to keep a little gold by me in order to
+ascertain for myself exactly the amount of pleasure to be got out of
+handling it; this being the traditional delight of the old-fashioned
+miser. It is by no means to be despised. Three or four hundred dollars
+in double-eagles will do very well to experiment on. There is something
+very agreeable in the yellow gleam, very musical in the metallic clink,
+very satisfying in the singular weight, and very stimulating in
+the feeling that all the world over these same yellow disks are the
+master-keys that let one in wherever he wants to go, the servants that
+bring him pretty nearly everything he wants, except virtue,--and a good
+deal of what passes for that. I confess, then, to an honest liking for
+the splendors and the specific gravity and the manifold potentiality of
+the royal metal, and I understand, after a certain imperfect fashion,
+the delight that an old ragged wretch, starving himself in a crazy
+hovel, takes in stuffing guineas into old stockings and filling earthen
+pots with sovereigns, and every now and then visiting his hoards and
+fingering the fat pieces, and thinking ever all that they represent of
+earthly and angelic and diabolic energy. A miser pouring out his guineas
+into his palm and bathing his shrivelled and trembling hands in the
+yellow heaps before him, is not the prosaic being we are in the habit of
+thinking him. He is a dreamer, almost a poet. You and I read a novel or
+a poem to help our imaginations to build up palaces, and transport us
+into the emotional states and the felicitous conditions of the ideal
+characters pictured in the book we are reading. But think of him and the
+significance of the symbols he is handling as compared with the empty
+syllables and words we are using to build our aerial edifices with!
+In this hand he holds the smile of beauty and in that the dagger of
+revenge. The contents of that old glove will buy him the willing service
+of many an adroit sinner, and with what that coarse sack contains he can
+purchase the prayers of holy men for all succeeding time. In this chest
+is a castle in Spain, a real one, and not only in Spain, but anywhere
+he will choose to have it. If he would know what is the liberality of
+judgment of any of the straiter sects, he has only to hand over that box
+of rouleaux to the trustees of one of its educational institutions for
+the endowment of two or three professorships. If he would dream of being
+remembered by coming generations, what monument so enduring as a college
+building that shall bear his name, and even when its solid masonry shall
+crumble give place to another still charged with the same sacred duty
+of perpetuating his remembrance. Who was Sir Matthew Holworthy, that his
+name is a household word on the lips of thousands of scholars, and will
+be centuries hence, as that of Walter de Merton, dead six hundred years
+ago, is to-day at Oxford? Who was Mistress Holden, that she should be
+blessed among women by having her name spoken gratefully and the
+little edifice she caused to be erected preserved as her monument from
+generation to generation? All these possibilities, the lust of the eye,
+the lust of the flesh, the pride of life; the tears of grateful orphans
+by the gallon; the prayers of Westminster Assembly's Catechism divines
+by the thousand; the masses of priests by the century;--all these
+things, and more if more there be that the imagination of a lover of
+gold is likely to range over, the miser hears and sees and feels and
+hugs and enjoys as he paddles with his lean hands among the sliding,
+shining, ringing, innocent-looking bits of yellow metal, toying with
+them as the lion-tamer handles the great carnivorous monster, whose
+might and whose terrors are child's play to the latent forces and power
+of harm-doing of the glittering counters played with in the great game
+between angels and devils.
+
+I have seen a good deal of misers, and I think I understand them as
+well as most persons do. But the Capitalist's economy in rags and his
+liberality to the young doctor are very oddly contrasted with each
+other. I should not be surprised at any time to hear that he had endowed
+a scholarship or professorship or built a college dormitory, in spite of
+his curious parsimony in old linen.
+
+I do not know where our Young Astronomer got the notions that he
+expresses so freely in the lines that follow. I think the statement is
+true, however, which I see in one of the most popular Cyclopaedias, that
+“the non-clerical mind in all ages is disposed to look favorably upon
+the doctrine of the universal restoration to holiness and happiness of
+all fallen intelligences, whether human or angelic.” Certainly, most
+of the poets who have reached the heart of men, since Burns dropped the
+tear for poor “auld Nickie-ben” that softened the stony-hearted theology
+of Scotland, have had “non-clerical” minds, and I suppose our young
+friend is in his humble way an optimist like them. What he says in verse
+is very much the same thing as what is said in prose in all companies,
+and thought by a great many who are thankful to anybody that will say
+it for them,--not a few clerical as wall as “non-clerical” persons among
+them.
+
+ WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.
+
+ V
+
+ What am I but the creature Thou hast made?
+ What have I save the blessings Thou hast lent?
+ What hope I but Thy mercy and Thy love?
+ Who but myself shall cloud my soul with fear?
+ Whose hand protect me from myself but Thine?
+
+ I claim the rights of weakness, I, the babe,
+ Call on my sire to shield me from the ills
+ That still beset my path, not trying me
+ With snares beyond my wisdom or my strength,
+ He knowing I shall use them to my harm,
+ And find a tenfold misery in the sense
+ That in my childlike folly I have sprung
+ The trap upon myself as vermin use
+ Drawn by the cunning bait to certain doom.
+ Who wrought the wondrous charm that leads us on
+ To sweet perdition, but the self-same power
+ That set the fearful engine to destroy
+ His wretched offspring (as the Rabbis tell),
+ And hid its yawning jaws and treacherous springs
+ In such a show of innocent sweet flowers
+ It lured the sinless angels and they fell?
+
+ Ah! He who prayed the prayer of all mankind
+ Summed in those few brief words the mightiest plea
+ For erring souls before the courts of heaven,
+ Save us from being tempted,--lest we fall!
+ If we are only as the potter's clay
+ Made to be fashioned as the artist wills,
+ And broken into shards if we offend
+ The eye of Him who made us, it is well;
+ Such love as the insensate lump of clay
+ That spins upon the swift-revolving wheel
+ Bears to the hand that shapes its growing form,
+ --Such love, no more, will be our hearts' return
+ To the great Master-workman for his care,
+ Or would be, save that this, our breathing clay,
+ Is intertwined with fine innumerous threads
+ That make it conscious in its framer's hand;
+ And this He must remember who has filled
+ These vessels with the deadly draught of life,
+ Life, that means death to all it claims. Our love
+ Must kindle in the ray that streams from heaven,
+ A faint reflection of the light divine;
+ The sun must warm the earth before the rose
+ Can show her inmost heart-leaves to the sun.
+
+ He yields some fraction of the Maker's right
+ Who gives the quivering nerve its sense of pain;
+ Is there not something in the pleading eye
+ Of the poor brute that suffers, which arraigns
+ The law that bids it suffer? Has it not
+ A claim for some remembrance in the book
+ That fills its pages with the idle words
+ Spoken of men? Or is it only clay,
+ Bleeding and aching in the potter's hand,
+ Yet all his own to treat it as he will
+ And when he will to cast it at his feet,
+ Shattered, dishonored, lost forevermore?
+ My dog loves me, but could he look beyond
+ His earthly master, would his love extend
+ To Him who--Hush! I will not doubt that He
+ Is better than our fears, and will not wrong
+ The least, the meanest of created things!
+
+ He would not trust me with the smallest orb
+ That circles through the sky; he would not give
+ A meteor to my guidance; would not leave
+ The coloring of a cloudlet to my hand;
+ He locks my beating heart beneath its bars
+ And keeps the key himself; he measures out
+ The draughts of vital breath that warm my blood,
+ Winds up the springs of instinct which uncoil,
+ Each in its season; ties me to my home,
+ My race, my time, my nation, and my creed
+ So closely that if I but slip my wrist
+ Out of the band that cuts it to the bone,
+ Men say, “He hath a devil”; he has lent
+ All that I hold in trust, as unto one
+ By reason of his weakness and his years
+ Not fit to hold the smallest shred in fee
+ Of those most common things he calls his own
+ And yet--my Rabbi tells me--he has left
+ The care of that to which a million worlds.
+ Filled with unconscious life were less than naught,
+ Has left that mighty universe, the Soul,
+ To the weak guidance of our baby hands,
+ Turned us adrift with our immortal charge,
+ Let the foul fiends have access at their will,
+ Taking the shape of angels, to our hearts,
+ Our hearts already poisoned through and through
+ With the fierce virus of ancestral sin.
+ If what my Rabbi tells me is the truth,
+ Why did the choir of angels sing for joy?
+ Heaven must be compassed in a narrow space,
+ And offer more than room enough for all
+ That pass its portals; but the underworld,
+ The godless realm, the place where demons forge
+ Their fiery darts and adamantine chains,
+ Must swarm with ghosts that for a little while
+ Had worn the garb of flesh, and being heirs
+ Of all the dulness of their stolid sires,
+ And all the erring instincts of their tribe,
+ Nature's own teaching, rudiments of “sin,”
+ Fell headlong in the snare that could not fail
+ To trap the wretched creatures shaped of clay
+ And cursed with sense enough to lose their souls!
+
+ Brother, thy heart is troubled at my word;
+ Sister, I see the cloud is on thy brow.
+ He will not blame me, He who sends not peace,
+ But sends a sword, and bids us strike amain
+ At Error's gilded crest, where in the van
+ Of earth's great army, mingling with the best
+ And bravest of its leaders, shouting loud
+ The battle-cries that yesterday have led
+ The host of Truth to victory, but to-day
+ Are watchwords of the laggard and the slave,
+ He leads his dazzled cohorts. God has made
+ This world a strife of atoms and of spheres;
+ With every breath I sigh myself away
+ And take my tribute from the wandering wind
+ To fan the flame of life's consuming fire;
+ So, while my thought has life, it needs must burn,
+ And burning, set the stubble-fields ablaze,
+ Where all the harvest long ago was reaped
+ And safely garnered in the ancient barns,
+ But still the gleaners, groping for their food,
+ Go blindly feeling through the close-shorn straw,
+ While the young reapers flash their glittering steel
+ Where later suns have ripened nobler grain!
+
+We listened to these lines in silence. They were evidently written
+honestly, and with feeling, and no doubt meant to be reverential. I
+thought, however, the Lady looked rather serious as he finished reading.
+The Young Girl's cheeks were flushed, but she was not in the mood for
+criticism.
+
+As we came away the Master said to me--The stubble-fields are mighty
+slow to take fire. These young fellows catch up with the world's ideas
+one after another,--they have been tamed a long while, but they find
+them running loose in their minds, and think they are ferae naturae.
+They remind me of young sportsmen who fire at the first feathers they
+see, and bring down a barnyard fowl. But the chicken may be worth
+bagging for all that, he said, good-humoredly.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+Caveat Lector. Let the reader look out for himself. The old Master,
+whose words I have so frequently quoted and shall quote more of, is a
+dogmatist who lays down the law, ex cathedra, from the chair of his own
+personality. I do not deny that he has the ambition of knowing something
+about a greater number of subjects than any one man ought to meddle
+with, except in a very humble and modest way. And that is not his way.
+There was no doubt something of, humorous bravado in his saying that the
+actual “order of things” did not offer a field sufficiently ample for
+his intelligence. But if I found fault with him, which would be easy
+enough, I should say that he holds and expresses definite opinions
+about matters that he could afford to leave open questions, or ask the
+judgment of others about. But I do not want to find fault with him. If
+he does not settle all the points he speaks of so authoritatively, he
+sets me thinking about them, and I like a man as a companion who is not
+afraid of a half-truth. I know he says some things peremptorily that
+he may inwardly debate with himself. There are two ways of dealing
+with assertions of this kind. One may attack them on the false side and
+perhaps gain a conversational victory. But I like better to take them
+up on the true side and see how much can be made of that aspect of
+the dogmatic assertion. It is the only comfortable way of dealing with
+persons like the old Master.
+
+There have been three famous talkers in Great Britain, either of whom
+would illustrate what I say about dogmatists well enough for my purpose.
+You cannot doubt to what three I refer: Samuel the First, Samuel the
+Second, and Thomas, last of the Dynasty. (I mean the living Thomas and
+not Thomas B.)
+
+I say the last of the Dynasty, for the conversational dogmatist on the
+imperial scale becomes every year more and more an impossibility. If he
+is in intelligent company he will be almost sure to find some one who
+knows more about some of the subjects he generalizes upon than any
+wholesale thinker who handles knowledge by the cargo is like to know. I
+find myself, at certain intervals, in the society of a number of experts
+in science, literature, and art, who cover a pretty wide range, taking
+them all together, of human knowledge. I have not the least doubt that
+if the great Dr. Samuel Johnson should come in and sit with this company
+at one of their Saturday dinners, he would be listened to, as he always
+was, with respect and attention. But there are subjects upon which the
+great talker could speak magisterially in his time and at his club, upon
+which so wise a man would express himself guardedly at the meeting where
+I have supposed him a guest. We have a scientific man or two among
+us, for instance, who would be entitled to smile at the good Doctor's
+estimate of their labors, as I give it here:
+
+“Of those that spin out life in trifles and die without a memorial, many
+flatter themselves with high opinion of their own importance and imagine
+that they are every day adding some improvement to human life.”--“Some
+turn the wheel of electricity, some suspend rings to a loadstone,
+and find that what they did yesterday they can do again to-day. Some
+register the changes of the wind, and die fully convinced that the wind
+is changeable.
+
+“There are men yet more profound, who have heard that two colorless
+liquors may produce a color by union, and that two cold bodies will
+grow hot if they are mingled; they mingle them, and produce the effect
+expected, say it is strange, and mingle them again.”
+
+I cannot transcribe this extract without an intense inward delight in
+its wit and a full recognition of its thorough half-truthfulness. Yet
+if while the great moralist is indulging in these vivacities, he can be
+imagined as receiving a message from Mr. Boswell or Mrs. Thrale flashed
+through the depths of the ocean, we can suppose he might be tempted to
+indulge in another oracular utterance, something like this:---A wise
+man recognizes the convenience of a general statement, but he bows to
+the authority of a particular fact. He who would bound the possibilities
+of human knowledge by the limitations of present acquirements would take
+the dimensions of the infant in ordering the habiliments of the adult.
+It is the province of knowledge to speak and it is the privilege of
+wisdom to listen. Will the Professor have the kindness to inform me by
+what steps of gradual development the ring and the loadstone, which were
+but yesterday the toys of children and idlers, have become the means
+of approximating the intelligences of remote continents, and wafting
+emotions unchilled through the abysses of the no longer unfathomable
+deep?
+
+--This, you understand, Beloved, is only a conventional imitation of the
+Doctor's style of talking. He wrote in grand balanced phrases, but his
+conversation was good, lusty, off-hand familiar talk. He used very often
+to have it all his own way. If he came back to us we must remember that
+to treat him fairly we must suppose him on a level with the knowledge of
+our own time. But that knowledge is more specialized, a great deal, than
+knowledge was in his day. Men cannot talk about things they have seen
+from the outside with the same magisterial authority the talking dynasty
+pretended to. The sturdy old moralist felt grand enough, no doubt, when
+he said, “He that is growing great and happy by electrifying a bottle
+wonders how the world can be engaged by trifling prattle about war or
+peace.” Benjamin Franklin was one of these idlers who were electrifying
+bottles, but he also found time to engage in the trifling prattle about
+war and peace going on in those times. The talking Doctor hits him very
+hard in “Taxation no Tyranny”: “Those who wrote the Address (of the
+American Congress in 1775), though they have shown no great extent or
+profundity of mind, are yet probably wiser than to believe it: but they
+have been taught by some master of mischief how to put in motion the
+engine of political electricity; to attract by the sounds of Liberty and
+Property, to repel by those of Popery and Slavery; and to give the great
+stroke by the name of Boston.” The talking dynasty has always been
+hard upon us Americans. King Samuel II. says: “It is, I believe, a fact
+verified beyond doubt, that some years ago it was impossible to obtain
+a copy of the Newgate Calendar, as they had all been bought up by the
+Americans, whether to suppress the blazon of their forefathers or
+to assist in their genealogical researches I could never learn
+satisfactorily.” As for King Thomas, the last of the monological
+succession, he made such a piece of work with his prophecies and his
+sarcasms about our little trouble with some of the Southern States, that
+we came rather to pity him for his whims and crotchets than to get angry
+with him for calling us bores and other unamiable names.
+
+I do not think we believe things because considerable people say them,
+on personal authority, that is, as intelligent listeners very commonly
+did a century ago. The newspapers have lied that belief out of us. Any
+man who has a pretty gift of talk may hold his company a little while
+when there is nothing better stirring. Every now and then a man who may
+be dull enough prevailingly has a passion of talk come over him which
+makes him eloquent and silences the rest. I have a great respect for
+these divine paroxysms, these half-inspired moments of influx when they
+seize one whom we had not counted among the luminaries of the social
+sphere. But the man who can--give us a fresh experience on anything that
+interests us overrides everybody else. A great peril escaped makes a
+great story-teller of a common person enough. I remember when a certain
+vessel was wrecked long ago, that one of the survivors told the story as
+well as Defoe could have told it. Never a word from him before; never
+a word from him since. But when it comes to talking one's common
+thoughts,--those that come and go as the breath does; those that
+tread the mental areas and corridors with steady, even foot-fall, an
+interminable procession of every hue and garb,--there are few, indeed,
+that can dare to lift the curtain which hangs before the window in the
+breast and throw open the window, and let us look and listen. We are all
+loyal enough to our sovereign when he shows himself, but sovereigns are
+scarce. I never saw the absolute homage of listeners but once, that I
+remember, to a man's common talk, and that was to the conversation of an
+old man, illustrious by his lineage and the exalted honors he had won,
+whose experience had lessons for the wisest, and whose eloquence had
+made the boldest tremble.
+
+All this because I told you to look out for yourselves and not take for
+absolute truth everything the old Master of our table, or anybody else
+at it sees fit to utter. At the same time I do not think that he, or any
+of us whose conversation I think worth reporting, says anything for the
+mere sake of saying it and without thinking that it holds some truth,
+even if it is not unqualifiedly true.
+
+I suppose a certain number of my readers wish very heartily that the
+Young Astronomer whose poetical speculations I am recording would stop
+trying by searching to find out the Almighty, and sign the thirty-nine
+articles, or the Westminster Confession of Faith, at any rate slip his
+neck into some collar or other, and pull quietly in the harness, whether
+it galled him or not. I say, rather, let him have his talk out; if
+nobody else asks the questions he asks, some will be glad to hear them,
+but if you, the reader, find the same questions in your own mind,
+you need not be afraid to see how they shape themselves in another's
+intelligence. Do you recognize the fact that we are living in a new
+time? Knowledge--it excites prejudices to call it science--is advancing
+as irresistibly, as majestically, as remorselessly as the ocean moves in
+upon the shore. The courtiers of King Canute (I am not afraid of the old
+comparison), represented by the adherents of the traditional beliefs
+of the period, move his chair back an inch at a time, but not until his
+feet are pretty damp, not to say wet. The rock on which he sat securely
+awhile ago is completely under water. And now people are walking up and
+down the beach and judging for themselves how far inland the chair
+of King Canute is like to be moved while they and their children are
+looking on, at the rate in which it is edging backward. And it is quite
+too late to go into hysterics about it.
+
+The shore, solid, substantial, a great deal more than eighteen
+hundred years old, is natural humanity. The beach which the ocean of
+knowledge--you may call it science if you like--is flowing over, is
+theological humanity. Somewhere between the Sermon on the Mount and the
+teachings of Saint Augustine sin was made a transferable chattel. (I
+leave the interval wide for others to make narrow.)
+
+The doctrine of heritable guilt, with its mechanical consequences, has
+done for our moral nature what the doctrine of demoniac possession
+has done in barbarous times and still does among barbarous tribes for
+disease. Out of that black cloud came the lightning which struck the
+compass of humanity. Conscience, which from the dawn of moral being had
+pointed to the poles of right and wrong only as the great current of
+will flowed through the soul, was demagnetized, paralyzed, and knew
+henceforth no fixed meridian, but stayed where the priest or the council
+placed it. There is nothing to be done but to polarize the needle over
+again. And for this purpose we must study the lines of direction of all
+the forces which traverse our human nature.
+
+We must study man as we have studied stars and rocks. We need not go,
+we are told, to our sacred books for astronomy or geology or other
+scientific knowledge. Do not stop there! Pull Canute's chair back fifty
+rods at once, and do not wait until he is wet to the knees! Say now,
+bravely, as you will sooner or later have to say, that we need not go to
+any ancient records for our anthropology. Do we not all hold, at least,
+that the doctrine of man's being a blighted abortion, a miserable
+disappointment to his Creator, and hostile and hateful to him from his
+birth, may give way to the belief that he is the latest terrestrial
+manifestation of an ever upward-striving movement of divine power? If
+there lives a man who does not want to disbelieve the popular notions
+about the condition and destiny of the bulk of his race, I should like
+to have him look me in the face and tell me so.
+
+I am not writing for the basement story or the nursery, and I do not
+pretend to be, but I say nothing in these pages which would not be said
+without fear of offence in any intelligent circle, such as clergymen of
+the higher castes are in the habit of frequenting. There are teachers
+in type for our grandmothers and our grandchildren who vaccinate the
+two childhoods with wholesome doctrine, transmitted harmlessly from one
+infant to another. But we three men at our table have taken the disease
+of thinking in the natural way. It is an epidemic in these times, and
+those who are afraid of it must shut themselves up close or they will
+catch it.
+
+I hope none of us are wanting in reverence. One at least of us is a
+regular church-goer, and believes a man may be devout and yet very free
+in the expression of his opinions on the gravest subjects. There may be
+some good people who think that our young friend who puts his thoughts
+in verse is going sounding over perilous depths, and are frightened
+every time he throws the lead. There is nothing to be frightened at.
+This is a manly world we live in. Our reverence is good for nothing if
+it does not begin with self-respect. Occidental manhood springs from
+that as its basis; Oriental manhood finds the greatest satisfaction in
+self-abasement. There is no use in trying to graft the tropical palm
+upon the Northern pine. The same divine forces underlie the growth of
+both, but leaf and flower and fruit must follow the law of race, of
+soil, of climate. Whether the questions which assail my young friend
+have risen in my reader's mind or not, he knows perfectly well that
+nobody can keep such questions from springing up in every young mind of
+any force or honesty. As for the excellent little wretches who grow up
+in what they are taught, with never a scruple or a query, Protestant or
+Catholic, Jew or Mormon, Mahometan or Buddhist, they signify nothing in
+the intellectual life of the race. If the world had been wholly peopled
+with such half-vitalized mental negatives, there never would have been a
+creed like that of Christendom.
+
+I entirely agree with the spirit of the verses I have looked over, in
+this point at least, that a true man's allegiance is given to that which
+is highest in his own nature. He reverences truth, he loves kindness,
+he respects justice. The two first qualities he understands well enough.
+But the last, justice, at least as between the Infinite and the
+finite, has been so utterly dehumanized, disintegrated, decomposed, and
+diabolized in passing through the minds of the half-civilized banditti
+who have peopled and unpeopled the world for some scores of generations,
+that it has become a mere algebraic x, and has no fixed value whatever
+as a human conception.
+
+As for power, we are outgrowing all superstition about that. We have not
+the slightest respect for it as such, and it is just as well to remember
+this in all our spiritual adjustments. We fear power when we cannot
+master it; but just as far as we can master it, we make a slave and a
+beast of burden of it without hesitation. We cannot change the ebb and
+flow of the tides, or the course of the seasons, but we come as near it
+as we can. We dam out the ocean, we make roses bloom in winter and water
+freeze in summer. We have no more reverence for the sun than we have for
+a fish-tail gas-burner; we stare into his face with telescopes as at a
+ballet-dancer with opera-glasses; we pick his rays to pieces with prisms
+as if they were so many skeins of colored yarn; we tell him we do not
+want his company and shut him out like a troublesome vagrant. The gods
+of the old heathen are the servants of to-day. Neptune, Vulcan, Aolus,
+and the bearer of the thunderbolt himself have stepped down from their
+pedestals and put on our livery. We cannot always master them, neither
+can we always master our servant, the horse, but we have put a bridle
+on the wildest natural agencies. The mob of elemental forces is as noisy
+and turbulent as ever, but the standing army of civilization keeps it
+well under, except for an occasional outbreak.
+
+When I read the Lady's letter printed some time since, I could not
+help honoring the feeling which prompted her in writing it. But while I
+respect the innocent incapacity of tender age and the limitations of the
+comparatively uninstructed classes, it is quite out of the question to
+act as if matters of common intelligence and universal interest were the
+private property of a secret society, only to be meddled with by those
+who know the grip and the password.
+
+We must get over the habit of transferring the limitations of the
+nervous temperament and of hectic constitutions to the great Source
+of all the mighty forces of nature, animate and inanimate. We may
+confidently trust that we have over us a Being thoroughly robust and
+grandly magnanimous, in distinction from the Infinite Invalid bred in
+the studies of sickly monomaniacs, who corresponds to a very common
+human type, but makes us blush for him when we contrast him with a truly
+noble man, such as most of us have had the privilege of knowing both in
+public and in private life.
+
+I was not a little pleased to find that the Lady, in spite of her
+letter, sat through the young man's reading of portions of his poem with
+a good deal of complacency. I think I can guess what is in her mind. She
+believes, as so many women do, in that great remedy for discontent, and
+doubts about humanity, and questionings of Providence, and all sorts of
+youthful vagaries,--I mean the love-cure. And she thinks, not without
+some reason, that these astronomical lessons, and these readings of
+poetry and daily proximity at the table, and the need of two young
+hearts that have been long feeling lonely, and youth and nature and “all
+impulses of soul and sense,” as Coleridge has it, will bring these two
+young people into closer relations than they perhaps have yet thought
+of; and so that sweet lesson of loving the neighbor whom he has seen
+may lead him into deeper and more trusting communion with the Friend and
+Father whom he has not seen.
+
+The Young Girl evidently did not intend that her accomplice should be a
+loser by the summary act of the Member of the Haouse: I took occasion
+to ask That Boy what had become of all the popguns. He gave me to
+understand that popguns were played out, but that he had got a squirt
+and a whip, and considered himself better off than before.
+
+This great world is full of mysteries. I can comprehend the pleasure to
+be got out of the hydraulic engine; but what can be the fascination of a
+whip, when one has nothing to flagellate but the calves of his own legs,
+I could never understand. Yet a small riding-whip is the most
+popular article with the miscellaneous New-Englander at all great
+gatherings,--cattle-shows and Fourth-of-July celebrations. If Democritus
+and Heraclitus could walk arm in arm through one of these crowds, the
+first would be in a broad laugh to see the multitude of young persons
+who were rejoicing in the possession of one of these useless and
+worthless little commodities; happy himself to see how easily others
+could purchase happiness. But the second would weep bitter tears to
+think what a rayless and barren life that must be which could extract
+enjoyment from the miserable flimsy wand that has such magic attraction
+for sauntering youths and simpering maidens. What a dynamometer of
+happiness are these paltry toys, and what a rudimentary vertebrate must
+be the freckled adolescent whose yearning for the infinite can be stayed
+even for a single hour by so trifling a boon from the venal hands of the
+finite!
+
+Pardon these polysyllabic reflections, Beloved, but I never contemplate
+these dear fellow-creatures of ours without a delicious sense of
+superiority to them and to all arrested embryos of intelligence, in
+which I have no doubt you heartily sympathize with me. It is not
+merely when I look at the vacuous countenances of the mastigophori, the
+whip-holders, that I enjoy this luxury (though I would not miss that
+holiday spectacle for a pretty sum of money, and advise you by all means
+to make sure of it next Fourth of July, if you missed it this), but I
+get the same pleasure from many similar manifestations.
+
+I delight in Regalia, so called, of the kind not worn by kings, nor
+obtaining their diamonds from the mines of Golconda. I have a passion
+for those resplendent titles which are not conferred by a sovereign and
+would not be the open sesame to the courts of royalty, yet which are as
+opulent in impressive adjectives as any Knight of the Garter's list
+of dignities. When I have recognized in the every-day name of His Very
+Worthy High Eminence of some cabalistic association, the inconspicuous
+individual whose trifling indebtedness to me for value received remains
+in a quiescent state and is likely long to continue so, I confess to
+having experienced a thrill of pleasure. I have smiled to think how
+grand his magnificent titular appendages sounded in his own ears and
+what a feeble tintinnabulation they made in mine. The crimson sash, the
+broad diagonal belt of the mounted marshal of a great procession, so
+cheap in themselves, yet so entirely satisfactory to the wearer, tickle
+my heart's root.
+
+Perhaps I should have enjoyed all these weaknesses of my infantile
+fellow-creatures without an afterthought, except that on a certain
+literary anniversary when I tie the narrow blue and pink ribbons in my
+button-hole and show my decorated bosom to the admiring public, I am
+conscious of a certain sense of distinction and superiority in virtue of
+that trifling addition to my personal adornments which reminds me that I
+too have some embryonic fibres in my tolerably well-matured organism.
+
+I hope I have not hurt your feelings, if you happen to be a High and
+Mighty Grand Functionary in any illustrious Fraternity. When I tell you
+that a bit of ribbon in my button-hole sets my vanity prancing, I think
+you cannot be grievously offended that I smile at the resonant titles
+which make you something more than human in your own eyes. I would not
+for the world be mistaken for one of those literary roughs whose brass
+knuckles leave their mark on the foreheads of so many inoffensive
+people.
+
+There is a human sub-species characterized by the coarseness of its
+fibre and the acrid nature of its intellectual secretions. It is to a
+certain extent penetrative, as all creatures are which are provided with
+stings. It has an instinct which guides it to the vulnerable parts of
+the victim on which it fastens. These two qualities give it a certain
+degree of power which is not to be despised. It might perhaps be less
+mischievous, but for the fact that the wound where it leaves its poison
+opens the fountain from which it draws its nourishment.
+
+Beings of this kind can be useful if they will only find their
+appropriate sphere, which is not literature, but that circle of
+rough-and-tumble political life where the fine-fibred men are at a
+discount, where epithets find their subjects poison-proof, and the sting
+which would be fatal to a literary debutant only wakes the eloquence
+of the pachydermatous ward-room politician to a fiercer shriek of
+declamation.
+
+The Master got talking the other day about the difference between races
+and families. I am reminded of what he said by what I have just been
+saying myself about coarse-fibred and fine-fibred people.
+
+--We talk about a Yankee, a New-Englander,--he said,-as if all of 'em
+were just the same kind of animal. “There is knowledge and knowledge,”
+ said John Bunyan. There are Yankees and Yankees. Do you know two native
+trees called pitch pine and white pine respectively? Of course you know
+'em. Well, there are pitch-pine Yankees and white-pine Yankees. We don't
+talk about the inherited differences of men quite as freely, perhaps,
+as they do in the Old World, but republicanism doesn't alter the laws
+of physiology. We have a native aristocracy, a superior race, just as
+plainly marked by nature as of a higher and finer grade than the common
+run of people as the white pine is marked in its form, its stature, its
+bark, its delicate foliage, as belonging to the nobility of the forest;
+and the pitch pine, stubbed, rough, coarse-haired, as of the plebeian
+order. Only the strange thing is to see in what a capricious way our
+natural nobility is distributed. The last born nobleman I have seen,
+I saw this morning; he was pulling a rope that was fastened to a Maine
+schooner loaded with lumber. I should say he was about twenty years
+old, as fine a figure of a young man as you would ask to see, and with
+a regular Greek outline of countenance, waving hair, that fell as if
+a sculptor had massed it to copy, and a complexion as rich as a red
+sunset. I have a notion that the State of Maine breeds the natural
+nobility in a larger proportion than some other States, but they spring
+up in all sorts of out-of-the-way places. The young fellow I saw this
+morning had on an old flannel shirt, a pair of trowsers that meant hard
+work, and a cheap cloth cap pushed back on his head so as to let the
+large waves of hair straggle out over his forehead; he was tugging at
+his rope with the other sailors, but upon my word I don't think I have
+seen a young English nobleman of all those whom I have looked upon that
+answered to the notion of “blood” so well as this young fellow did. I
+suppose if I made such a levelling confession as this in public, people
+would think I was looking towards being the labor-reform candidate for
+President. But I should go on and spoil my prospects by saying that
+I don't think the white-pine Yankee is the more generally prevailing
+growth, but rather the pitch-pine Yankee.
+
+--The Member of the Haouse seemed to have been getting a dim idea that
+all this was not exactly flattering to the huckleberry districts. His
+features betrayed the growth of this suspicion so clearly that the
+Master replied to his look as if it had been a remark. [I need hardly
+say that this particular member of the General Court was a pitch-pine
+Yankee of the most thoroughly characterized aspect and flavor.]
+
+--Yes, Sir,--the Master continued,--Sir being anybody that listened,
+--there is neither flattery nor offence in the views which a
+physiological observer takes of the forms of life around him. It won't
+do to draw individual portraits, but the differences of natural groups
+of human beings are as proper subjects of remark as those of different
+breeds of horses, and if horses were Houyhnhnms I don't think they would
+quarrel with us because we made a distinction between a “Morgan” and a
+“Messenger.” The truth is, Sir, the lean sandy soil and the droughts and
+the long winters and the east-winds and the cold storms, and all sorts
+of unknown local influences that we can't make out quite so plainly as
+these, have a tendency to roughen the human organization and make it
+coarse, something as it is with the tree I mentioned. Some spots and
+some strains of blood fight against these influences, but if I should
+say right out what I think, it would be that the finest human fruit, on
+the whole; and especially the finest women that we get in New England
+are raised under glass.
+
+--Good gracious!--exclaimed the Landlady, under glass!
+
+--Give me cowcumbers raised in the open air, said the Capitalist, who
+was a little hard of hearing.
+
+--Perhaps,--I remarked,--it might be as well if you would explain this
+last expression of yours. Raising human beings under glass I take to be
+a metaphorical rather than a literal statement of your meaning.
+
+--No, Sir!--replied the Master, with energy,--I mean just what I say,
+Sir. Under glass, and with a south exposure. During the hard season, of
+course,--for in the heats of summer the tenderest hot-house plants are
+not afraid of the open air. Protection is what the transplanted Aryan
+requires in this New England climate. Keep him, and especially keep her,
+in a wide street of a well-built city eight months of the year; good
+solid brick walls behind her, good sheets of plate-glass, with the sun
+shining warm through them, in front of her, and you have put her in the
+condition of the pine-apple, from the land of which, and not from that
+of the other kind of pine, her race started on its travels. People don't
+know what a gain there is to health by living in cities, the best parts
+of them of course, for we know too well what the worst parts are. In the
+first place you get rid of the noxious emanations which poison so many
+country localities with typhoid fever and dysentery, not wholly rid of
+them, of course, but to a surprising degree. Let me tell you a doctor's
+story. I was visiting a Western city a good many years ago; it was in
+the autumn, the time when all sorts of malarious diseases are about. The
+doctor I was speaking of took me to see the cemetery just outside the
+town, I don't know how much he had done to fill it, for he didn't tell
+me, but I'll tell you what he did say.
+
+“Look round,” said the doctor. “There isn't a house in all the ten-mile
+circuit of country you can see over, where there isn't one person, at
+least, shaking with fever and ague. And yet you need n't be afraid of
+carrying it away with you, for as long as your home is on a paved street
+you are safe.”
+
+--I think it likely--the Master went on to say--that my friend the
+doctor put it pretty strongly, but there is no doubt at all that while
+all the country round was suffering from intermittent fever, the paved
+part of the city was comparatively exempted. What do you do when you
+build a house on a damp soil, and there are damp soils pretty much
+everywhere? Why you floor the cellar with cement, don't you? Well,
+the soil of a city is cemented all over, one may say, with certain
+qualifications of course. A first-rate city house is a regular
+sanatorium. The only trouble is, that the little good-for-nothings that
+come of utterly used-up and worn-out stock, and ought to die, can't die,
+to save their lives. So they grow up to dilute the vigor of the race
+with skim-milk vitality. They would have died, like good children, in
+most average country places; but eight months of shelter in a regulated
+temperature, in a well-sunned house, in a duly moistened air, with good
+sidewalks to go about on in all weather, and four months of the cream
+of summer and the fresh milk of Jersey cows, make the little sham
+organizations--the worm-eaten wind-falls, for that 's what they look
+like--hang on to the boughs of life like “froze-n-thaws”; regular
+struldbrugs they come to be, a good many of 'em.
+
+--The Scarabee's ear was caught by that queer word of Swift's, and he
+asked very innocently what kind of bugs he was speaking of, whereupon
+That Boy shouted out, Straddlebugs! to his own immense amusement and the
+great bewilderment of the Scarabee, who only saw that there was one of
+those unintelligible breaks in the conversation which made other people
+laugh, and drew back his antennae as usual, perplexed, but not amused.
+
+I do not believe the Master had said all he was going to say on this
+subject, and of course all these statements of his are more or less
+one-sided. But that some invalids do much better in cities than in the
+country is indisputable, and that the frightful dysenteries and fevers
+which have raged like pestilences in many of our country towns are
+almost unknown in the better built sections of some of our large cities
+is getting to be more generally understood since our well-to-do people
+have annually emigrated in such numbers from the cemented surface of the
+city to the steaming soil of some of the dangerous rural districts. If
+one should contrast the healthiest country residences with the worst
+city ones the result would be all the other way, of course, so that
+there are two sides to the question, which we must let the doctors pound
+in their great mortar, infuse and strain, hoping that they will present
+us with the clear solution when they have got through these processes.
+One of our chief wants is a complete sanitary map of every State in the
+Union.
+
+The balance of our table, as the reader has no doubt observed, has been
+deranged by the withdrawal of the Man of Letters, so called, and
+only the side of the deficiency changed by the removal of the Young
+Astronomer into our neighborhood. The fact that there was a vacant chair
+on the side opposite us had by no means escaped the notice of That Boy.
+He had taken advantage of his opportunity and invited in a schoolmate
+whom he evidently looked upon as a great personage. This boy or youth
+was a good deal older than himself and stood to him apparently in the
+light of a patron and instructor in the ways of life. A very jaunty,
+knowing young gentleman he was, good-looking, smartly dressed,
+smooth-checked as yet, curly-haired, with a roguish eye, a sagacious
+wink, a ready tongue, as I soon found out; and as I learned could catch
+a ball on the fly with any boy of his age; not quarrelsome, but, if he
+had to strike, hit from the shoulder; the pride of his father (who was
+a man of property and a civic dignitary), and answering to the name of
+Johnny.
+
+I was a little surprised at the liberty That Boy had taken in
+introducing an extra peptic element at our table, reflecting as I did
+that a certain number of avoirdupois ounces of nutriment which the
+visitor would dispose of corresponded to a very appreciable pecuniary
+amount, so that he was levying a contribution upon our Landlady
+which she might be inclined to complain of. For the Caput mortuum (or
+deadhead, in vulgar phrase) is apt to be furnished with a Venter vivus,
+or, as we may say, a lively appetite. But the Landlady welcomed the
+new-comer very heartily.
+
+--Why! how--do--you--do Johnny?! with the notes of interrogation and of
+admiration both together, as here represented.
+
+Johnny signified that he was doing about as well as could be expected
+under the circumstances, having just had a little difference with a
+young person whom he spoke of as “Pewter-jaw” (I suppose he had worn a
+dentist's tooth-straightening contrivance during his second dentition),
+which youth he had finished off, as he said, in good shape, but at
+the expense of a slight epistaxis, we will translate his vernacular
+expression.
+
+--The three ladies all looked sympathetic, but there did not seem to be
+any great occasion for it, as the boy had come out all right, and seemed
+to be in the best of spirits.
+
+--And how is your father and your mother? asked the Landlady.
+
+--Oh, the Governor and the Head Centre? A 1, both of 'em. Prime order
+for shipping,--warranted to stand any climate. The Governor says he
+weighs a hunderd and seventy-five pounds. Got a chin-tuft just like
+Ed'in Forrest. D'd y' ever see Ed'in Forrest play Metamora? Bully, I
+tell you! My old gentleman means to be Mayor or Governor or President or
+something or other before he goes off the handle, you'd better b'lieve.
+He's smart,--and I've heard folks say I take after him.
+
+--Somehow or other I felt as if I had seen this boy before, or known
+something about him. Where did he get those expressions “A 1” and
+“prime” and so on? They must have come from somebody who has been in the
+retail dry-goods business, or something of that nature. I have certain
+vague reminiscences that carry me back to the early times of this
+boardinghouse.--Johnny.--Landlady knows his father well.
+
+--Boarded with her, no doubt.--There was somebody by the name of John,
+I remember perfectly well, lived with her. I remember both my friends
+mentioned him, one of them very often. I wonder if this boy isn't a son
+of his! I asked the Landlady after breakfast whether this was not, as I
+had suspected, the son of that former boarder.
+
+--To be sure he is,--she answered,--and jest such a good-natur'd sort of
+creatur' as his father was. I always liked John, as we used to call his
+father. He did love fun, but he was a good soul, and stood by me when I
+was in trouble, always. He went into business on his own account after a
+while, and got merried, and settled down into a family man. They tell
+me he is an amazing smart business man,--grown wealthy, and his wife's
+father left her money. But I can't help calling him John,--law, we never
+thought of calling him anything else, and he always laughs and says,
+“That's right.” This is his oldest son, and everybody calls him Johnny.
+That Boy of ours goes to the same school with his boy, and thinks there
+never was anybody like him,--you see there was a boy undertook to impose
+on our boy, and Johnny gave the other boy a good licking, and ever since
+that he is always wanting to have Johnny round with him and bring him
+here with him,--and when those two boys get together, there never was
+boys that was so chock full of fun and sometimes mischief, but not very
+bad mischief, as those two boys be. But I like to have him come once in
+a while when there is room at the table, as there is now, for it puts me
+in mind of the old times, when my old boarders was all round me, that
+I used to think so much of,--not that my boarders that I have now a'nt
+very nice people, but I did think a dreadful sight of the gentleman that
+made that first book; it helped me on in the world more than ever
+he knew of,--for it was as good as one of them Brandreth's pills
+advertisements, and did n't cost me a cent, and that young lady he
+merried too, she was nothing but a poor young schoolma'am when she come
+to my house, and now--and she deserved it all too; for she was always
+just the same, rich or poor, and she is n't a bit prouder now she wears
+a camel's-hair shawl, than she was when I used to lend her a woollen one
+to keep her poor dear little shoulders warm when she had to go out and
+it was storming,--and then there was that old gentleman,--I can't speak
+about him, for I never knew how good he was till his will was opened,
+and then it was too late to thank him....
+
+I respected the feeling which caused the interval of silence, and found
+my own eyes moistened as I remembered how long it was since that friend
+of ours was sitting in the chair where I now sit, and what a tidal wave
+of change has swept over the world and more especially over this great
+land of ours, since he opened his lips and found so many kind listeners.
+
+The Young Astronomer has read us another extract from his manuscript. I
+ran my eye over it, and so far as I have noticed it is correct enough
+in its versification. I suppose we are getting gradually over our
+hemispherical provincialism, which allowed a set of monks to pull their
+hoods over our eyes and tell us there was no meaning in any religious
+symbolism but our own. If I am mistaken about this advance I am very
+glad to print the young man's somewhat outspoken lines to help us in
+that direction.
+
+ WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.
+
+ VI
+
+ The time is racked with birth-pangs; every hour
+ Brings forth some gasping truth, and truth new-born
+ Looks a misshapen and untimely growth,
+ The terror of the household and its shame,
+ A monster coiling in its nurse's lap
+ That some would strangle, some would only starve;
+ But still it breathes, and passed from hand to hand,
+ And suckled at a hundred half-clad breasts,
+ Comes slowly to its stature and its form,
+ Calms the rough ridges of its dragon-scales,
+ Changes to shining locks its snaky hair,
+ And moves transfigured into angel guise,
+ Welcomed by all that cursed its hour of birth,
+ And folded in the same encircling arms
+ That cast it like a serpent from their hold!
+
+ If thou wouldst live in honor, die in peace,
+ Have the fine words the marble-workers learn
+ To carve so well, upon thy funeral-stone,
+ And earn a fair obituary, dressed
+ In all the many-colored robes of praise,
+ Be deafer than the adder to the cry
+ Of that same foundling truth, until it grows
+ To seemly favor, and at length has won
+ The smiles of hard-mouthed men and light-upped dames,
+ Then snatch it from its meagre nurse's breast,
+ Fold it in silk and give it food from gold;
+ So shalt thou share its glory when at last
+ It drops its mortal vesture, and revealed
+ In all the splendor of its heavenly form,
+ Spreads on the startled air its mighty wings!
+
+ Alas! how much that seemed immortal truth
+ That heroes fought for, martyrs died to save,
+ Reveals its earth-born lineage, growing old
+ And limping in its march, its wings unplumed,
+ Its heavenly semblance faded like a dream!
+
+ Here in this painted casket, just unsealed,
+ Lies what was once a breathing shape like thine,
+ Once loved as thou art loved; there beamed the eyes
+ That looked on Memphis in its hour of pride,
+ That saw the walls of hundred-gated Thebes,
+ And all the mirrored glories of the Nile.
+ See how they toiled that all-consuming time
+ Might leave the frame immortal in its tomb;
+ Filled it with fragrant balms and odorous gums
+ That still diffuse their sweetness through the air,
+ And wound and wound with patient fold on fold
+ The flaxen bands thy hand has rudely torn!
+ Perchance thou yet canst see the faded stain
+ Of the sad mourner's tear.
+
+ But what is this?
+ The sacred beetle, bound upon the breast
+ Of the blind heathen! Snatch the curious prize,
+ Give it a place among thy treasured spoils
+ Fossil and relic,--corals, encrinites,
+ The fly in amber and the fish in stone,
+ The twisted circlet of Etruscan gold,
+ Medal, intaglio, poniard, poison-ring,
+ --Place for the Memphian beetle with thine hoard!
+
+ Ah! longer than thy creed has blest the world
+ This toy, thus ravished from thy brother's breast,
+ Was to the heart of Mizraim as divine,
+ As holy, as the symbol that we lay
+ On the still bosom of our white-robed dead,
+ And raise above their dust that all may know
+ Here sleeps an heir of glory. Loving friends,
+ With tears of trembling faith and choking sobs,
+ And prayers to those who judge of mortal deeds,
+ Wrapped this poor image in the cerement's fold
+ That Isis and Osiris, friends of man,
+ Might know their own and claim the ransomed soul
+
+ An idol? Man was born to worship such!
+ An idol is an image of his thought;
+ Sometimes he carves it out of gleaming stone,
+ And sometimes moulds it out of glittering gold,
+ Or rounds it in a mighty frescoed dome,
+ Or lifts it heavenward in a lofty spire,
+ Or shapes it in a cunning frame of words,
+ Or pays his priest to make it day by day;
+ For sense must have its god as well as soul;
+ A new-born Dian calls for silver shrines,
+ And Egypt's holiest symbol is our own,
+ The sign we worship as did they of old
+ When Isis and Osiris ruled the world.
+
+ Let us be true to our most subtle selves,
+ We long to have our idols like the rest.
+ Think! when the men of Israel had their God
+ Encamped among them, talking with their chief,
+ Leading them in the pillar of the cloud
+ And watching o'er them in the shaft of fire,
+ They still must have an image; still they longed
+ For somewhat of substantial, solid form
+ Whereon to hang their garlands, and to fix
+ Their wandering thoughts, and gain a stronger hold
+ For their uncertain faith, not yet assured
+ If those same meteors of the day and night
+ Were not mere exhalations of the soil.
+
+ Are we less earthly than the chosen race?
+ Are we more neighbors of the living God
+ Than they who gathered manna every morn,
+ Reaping where none had sown, and heard the voice
+ Of him who met the Highest in the mount,
+ And brought them tables, graven with His hand?
+ Yet these must have their idol, brought their gold,
+ That star-browed Apis might be god again;
+ Yea, from their ears the women brake the rings
+ That lent such splendors to the gypsy brown
+ Of sunburnt cheeks,--what more could woman do
+ To show her pious zeal? They went astray,
+ But nature led them as it leads us all.
+
+ We too, who mock at Israel's golden calf
+ And scoff at Egypt's sacred scarabee,
+ Would have our amulets to clasp and kiss,
+ And flood with rapturous tears, and bear with us
+ To be our dear companions in the dust,
+ Such magic works an image in our souls!
+
+ Man is an embryo; see at twenty years
+ His bones, the columns that uphold his frame
+ Not yet cemented, shaft and capital,
+ Mere fragments of the temple incomplete.
+ At twoscore, threescore, is he then full grown?
+ Nay, still a child, and as the little maids
+ Dress and undress their puppets, so he tries
+ To dress a lifeless creed, as if it lived,
+ And change its raiment when the world cries shame!
+ We smile to see our little ones at play
+ So grave, so thoughtful, with maternal care
+ Nursing the wisps of rags they call their babes;
+ Does He not smile who sees us with the toys
+ We call by sacred names, and idly feign
+ To be what we have called them?
+ He is still The Father of this helpless nursery-brood,
+ Whose second childhood joins so close its first,
+ That in the crowding, hurrying years between
+ We scarce have trained our senses to their task
+ Before the gathering mist has dimmed our eyes,
+ And with our hollowed palm we help our ear,
+ And trace with trembling hand our wrinkled names,
+ And then begin to tell our stories o'er,
+ And see--not hear-the whispering lips that say,
+ “You know--? Your father knew him.--This is he,
+ Tottering and leaning on the hireling's arm,--”
+ And so, at length, disrobed of all that clad
+ The simple life we share with weed and worm,
+ Go to our cradles, naked as we came.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+I suppose there would have been even more remarks upon the growing
+intimacy of the Young Astronomer and his pupil, if the curiosity of the
+boarders had not in the mean time been so much excited at the apparently
+close relation which had sprung up between the Register of Deeds and
+the Lady. It was really hard to tell what to make of it. The Register
+appeared at the table in a new coat. Suspicious. The Lady was evidently
+deeply interested in him, if we could judge by the frequency and the
+length of their interviews. On at least one occasion he has brought a
+lawyer with him, which naturally suggested the idea that there were
+some property arrangements to be attended to, in case, as seems probable
+against all reasons to the contrary, these two estimable persons, so
+utterly unfitted, as one would say, to each other, contemplated an
+alliance. It is no pleasure to me to record an arrangement of this kind.
+I frankly confess I do not know what to make of it. With her tastes
+and breeding, it is the last thing that I should have thought of,--her
+uniting herself with this most commonplace and mechanical person, who
+cannot even offer her the elegances and luxuries to which she might seem
+entitled on changing her condition.
+
+While I was thus interested and puzzled I received an unexpected visit
+from our Landlady. She was evidently excited, and by some event which
+was of a happy nature, for her countenance was beaming and she seemed
+impatient to communicate what she had to tell. Impatient or not, she
+must wait a moment, while I say a word about her. Our Landlady is as
+good a creature as ever lived. She is a little negligent of grammar
+at times, and will get a wrong word now and then; she is garrulous,
+circumstantial, associates facts by their accidental cohesion rather
+than by their vital affinities, is given to choking and tears on slight
+occasions, but she has a warm heart, and feels to her boarders as if
+they were her blood-relations. She began her conversation abruptly.--I
+expect I'm a going to lose one of my boarders,--she said.
+
+--You don't seem very unhappy about it, madam,--I answered.--We all
+took it easily when the person who sat on our side of the table quitted
+us in such a hurry, but I do not think there is anybody left that either
+you or the boarders want to get rid of--unless it is myself,--I added
+modestly.
+
+--You! said the Landlady--you! No indeed. When I have a quiet boarder
+that 's a small eater, I don't want to lose him. You don't make trouble,
+you don't find fault with your vit--[Dr. Benjamin had schooled his
+parent on this point and she altered the word] with your food, and you
+know when you 've had enough.
+
+--I really felt proud of this eulogy, which embraces the most desirable
+excellences of a human being in the capacity of boarder.
+
+The Landlady began again.--I'm going to lose--at least, I suppose I
+shall--one of the best boarders I ever had,--that Lady that's been with
+me so long.
+
+--I thought there was something going on between her and the
+Register,--I said.
+
+--Something! I should think there was! About three months ago he began
+making her acquaintance. I thought there was something particular. I did
+n't quite like to watch 'em very close; but I could n't help overbearing
+some of the things he said to her, for, you see, he used to follow her
+up into the parlor, they talked pretty low, but I could catch a word now
+and then. I heard him say something to her one day about “bettering
+her condition,” and she seemed to be thinking very hard about it, and
+turning of it over in her mind, and I said to myself, She does n't want
+to take up with him, but she feels dreadful poor, and perhaps he has
+been saving and has got money in the bank, and she does n't want to
+throw away a chance of bettering herself without thinking it over. But
+dear me,--says I to myself,--to think of her walking up the broad aisle
+into meeting alongside of such a homely, rusty-looking creatur' as that!
+But there 's no telling what folks will do when poverty has got hold of
+'em.
+
+--Well, so I thought she was waiting to make up her mind, and he was
+hanging on in hopes she'd come round at last, as women do half the time,
+for they don't know their own minds and the wind blows both ways at once
+with 'em as the smoke blows out of the tall chimlies,--east out of this
+one and west out of that,--so it's no use looking at 'em to know what
+the weather is.
+
+--But yesterday she comes up to me after breakfast, and asks me to go up
+with her into her little room. Now, says I to myself, I shall hear all
+about it. I saw she looked as if she'd got some of her trouble off her
+mind, and I guessed that it was settled, and so, says I to myself, I
+must wish her joy and hope it's all for the best, whatever I think about
+it.
+
+--Well, she asked me to set down, and then she begun. She said that she
+was expecting to have a change in her condition of life, and had asked
+me up so that I might' have the first news of it. I am sure--says
+I--I wish you both joy. Merriage is a blessed thing when folks is well
+sorted, and it is an honorable thing, and the first meracle was at the
+merriage in Canaan. It brings a great sight of happiness with it, as
+I've had a chance of knowing, for my hus--
+
+The Landlady showed her usual tendency to “break” from the
+conversational pace just at this point, but managed to rein in the
+rebellious diaphragm, and resumed her narrative.
+
+--Merriage!--says she,--pray who has said anything about merriage?--I
+beg your pardon, ma'am,--says I,--I thought you had spoke of changing
+your condition and I--She looked so I stopped right short.
+
+-Don't say another word, says she, but jest listen to what I am going to
+tell you.
+
+--My friend, says she, that you have seen with me so often lately, was
+hunting among his old Record books, when all at once he come across an
+old deed that was made by somebody that had my family name. He took it
+into his head to read it over, and he found there was some kind of a
+condition that if it was n't kept, the property would all go back to
+them that was the heirs of the one that gave the deed, and that he found
+out was me. Something or other put it into his head, says she, that the
+company that owned the property--it was ever so rich a company and owned
+land all round everywhere--hadn't kept to the conditions. So he went to
+work, says she, and hunted through his books and he inquired all round,
+and he found out pretty much all about it, and at last he come to me--it
+'s my boarder, you know, that says all this--and says he, Ma'am, says
+he, if you have any kind of fancy for being a rich woman you've only got
+to say so. I didn't know what he meant, and I began to think, says she,
+he must be crazy. But he explained it all to me, how I'd nothing to do
+but go to court and I could get a sight of property back. Well, so she
+went on telling me--there was ever so much more that I suppose was all
+plain enough, but I don't remember it all--only I know my boarder was
+a good deal worried at first at the thought of taking money that other
+people thought was theirs, and the Register he had to talk to her, and
+he brought a lawyer and he talked to her, and her friends they talked to
+her, and the upshot of it all was that the company agreed to settle the
+business by paying her, well, I don't know just how much, but enough to
+make her one of the rich folks again.
+
+I may as well add here that, as I have since learned, this is one of the
+most important cases of releasing right of reentry for condition broken
+which has been settled by arbitration for a considerable period. If I
+am not mistaken the Register of Deeds will get something more than a
+new coat out of this business, for the Lady very justly attributes her
+change of fortunes to his sagacity and his activity in following up the
+hint he had come across by mere accident.
+
+So my supernumerary fellow-boarder, whom I would have dispensed with as
+a cumberer of the table, has proved a ministering angel to one of the
+personages whom I most cared for.
+
+One would have thought that the most scrupulous person need not have
+hesitated in asserting an unquestioned legal and equitable claim simply
+because it had lain a certain number of years in abeyance. But before
+the Lady could make up her mind to accept her good fortune she had been
+kept awake many nights in doubt and inward debate whether she should
+avail herself of her rights. If it had been private property, so that
+another person must be made poor that she should become rich, she would
+have lived and died in want rather than claim her own. I do not think
+any of us would like to turn out the possessor of a fine estate enjoyed
+for two or three generations on the faith of unquestioned ownership by
+making use of some old forgotten instrument, which accident had thrown
+in our way.
+
+But it was all nonsense to indulge in any sentiment in a case like this,
+where it was not only a right, but a duty which she owed herself and
+others in relation with her, to accept what Providence, as it appeared,
+had thrust upon her, and when no suffering would be occasioned to
+anybody. Common sense told her not to refuse it. So did several of her
+rich friends, who remembered about this time that they had not called
+upon her for a good while, and among them Mrs. Midas Goldenrod.
+
+Never had that lady's carriage stood before the door of our
+boarding-house so long, never had it stopped so often, as since the
+revelation which had come from the Registry of Deeds. Mrs. Midas
+Goldenrod was not a bad woman, but she loved and hated in too exclusive
+and fastidious a way to allow us to consider her as representing the
+highest ideal of womanhood. She hated narrow ill-ventilated courts,
+where there was nothing to see if one looked out of the window but old
+men in dressing-gowns and old women in caps; she hated little dark rooms
+with air-tight stoves in them; she hated rusty bombazine gowns and last
+year's bonnets; she hated gloves that were not as fresh as new-laid
+eggs, and shoes that had grown bulgy and wrinkled in service; she hated
+common crockeryware and teaspoons of slight constitution; she hated
+second appearances on the dinner-table; she hated coarse napkins and
+table-cloths; she hated to ride in the horsecars; she hated to walk
+except for short distances, when she was tired of sitting in her
+carriage. She loved with sincere and undisguised affection a spacious
+city mansion and a charming country villa, with a seaside cottage for
+a couple of months or so; she loved a perfectly appointed household, a
+cook who was up to all kinds of salmis and vol-au-vents, a French maid,
+and a stylish-looking coachman, and the rest of the people necessary to
+help one live in a decent manner; she loved pictures that other people
+said were first-rate, and which had at least cost first-rate prices;
+she loved books with handsome backs, in showy cases; she loved heavy
+and richly wought plate; fine linen and plenty of it; dresses from
+Paris frequently, and as many as could be got in without troubling the
+customhouse; Russia sables and Venetian point-lace; diamonds, and good
+big ones; and, speaking generally, she loved dear things in distinction
+from cheap ones, the real article and not the economical substitute.
+
+For the life of me I cannot see anything Satanic in all this. Tell
+me, Beloved, only between ourselves, if some of these things are not
+desirable enough in their way, and if you and I could not make up our
+minds to put up with some of the least objectionable of them without
+any great inward struggle? Even in the matter of ornaments there is
+something to be said. Why should we be told that the New Jerusalem is
+paved with gold, and that its twelve gates are each of them a pearl, and
+that its foundations are garnished with sapphires and emeralds and all
+manner of precious stones, if these are not among the most desirable
+of objects? And is there anything very strange in the fact that many a
+daughter of earth finds it a sweet foretaste of heaven to wear about
+her frail earthly tabernacle these glittering reminders of the celestial
+city?
+
+Mrs. Midas Goldenrod was not so entirely peculiar and anomalous in
+her likes and dislikes; the only trouble was that she mixed up these
+accidents of life too much with life itself, which is so often serenely
+or actively noble and happy without reference to them. She valued
+persons chiefly according to their external conditions, and of course
+the very moment her relative, the Lady of our breakfast-table, began
+to find herself in a streak of sunshine she came forward with a lighted
+candle to show her which way her path lay before her.
+
+The Lady saw all this, how plainly, how painfully! yet she exercised a
+true charity for the weakness of her relative. Sensible people have as
+much consideration for the frailties of the rich as for those of
+the poor. There is a good deal of excuse for them. Even you and I,
+philosophers and philanthropists as we may think ourselves, have a
+dislike for the enforced economies, proper and honorable though they
+certainly are, of those who are two or three degrees below us in the
+scale of agreeable living.
+
+--These are very worthy persons you have been living with, my dear,
+--said Mrs. Midas--[the “My dear” was an expression which had flowered
+out more luxuriantly than ever before in the new streak of sunshine]
+--eminently respectable parties, I have no question, but then we shall
+want you to move as soon as possible to our quarter of the town, where
+we can see more of you than we have been able to in this queer place.
+
+It was not very pleasant to listen to this kind of talk, but the Lady
+remembered her annual bouquet, and her occasional visits from the rich
+lady, and restrained the inclination to remind her of the humble sphere
+from which she herself, the rich and patronizing personage, had worked
+her way up (if it was up) into that world which she seemed to think was
+the only one where a human being could find life worth having. Her
+cheek flushed a little, however, as she said to Mrs. Midas that she felt
+attached to the place where she had been living so long. She doubted,
+she was pleased to say, whether she should find better company in
+any circle she was like to move in than she left behind her at our
+boarding-house. I give the old Master the credit of this compliment. If
+one does not agree with half of what he says, at any rate he always has
+something to say, and entertains and lets out opinions and whims and
+notions of one kind and another that one can quarrel with if he is
+out of humor, or carry away to think about if he happens to be in the
+receptive mood.
+
+But the Lady expressed still more strongly the regret she should feel at
+leaving her young friend, our Scheherezade. I cannot wonder at this.
+The Young Girl has lost what little playfulness she had in the earlier
+months of my acquaintance with her. I often read her stories partly from
+my interest in her, and partly because I find merit enough in them to
+deserve something, better than the rough handling they got from her
+coarse-fibred critic, whoever he was. I see evidence that her thoughts
+are wandering from her task, that she has fits of melancholy, and bursts
+of tremulous excitement, and that she has as much as she can do to
+keep herself at all to her stated, inevitable, and sometimes almost
+despairing literary labor. I have had some acquaintance with vital
+phenomena of this kind, and know something of the nervous nature of
+young women and its “magnetic storms,” if I may borrow an expression
+from the physicists, to indicate the perturbations to which they are
+liable. She is more in need of friendship and counsel now than ever
+before, it seems to me, and I cannot bear to think that the Lady, who
+has become like a mother to her, is to leave her to her own guidance.
+
+It is plain enough what is at the bottom of this disturbance. The
+astronomical lessons she has been taking have become interesting enough
+to absorb too much of her thoughts, and she finds them wandering to the
+stars or elsewhere, when they should be working quietly in the editor's
+harness.
+
+The Landlady has her own views on this matter which she communicated to
+me something as follows:
+
+--I don't quite like to tell folks what a lucky place my boarding-house
+is, for fear I should have all sorts of people crowding in to be my
+boarders for the sake of their chances. Folks come here poor and they go
+away rich. Young women come here without a friend in the world, and the
+next thing that happens is a gentleman steps up to 'em and says, “If
+you'll take me for your pardner for life, I'll give you a good home and
+love you ever so much besides”; and off goes my young lady-boarder
+into a fine three-story house, as grand as the governor's wife, with
+everything to make her comfortable, and a husband to care for her into
+the bargain. That's the way it is with the young ladies that comes to
+board with me, ever since the gentleman that wrote the first book that
+advertised my establishment (and never charged me a cent for it neither)
+merried the Schoolma'am. And I think but that's between you and me--that
+it 's going to be the same thing right over again between that young
+gentleman and this young girl here--if she doos n't kill herself with
+writing for them news papers,--it 's too bad they don't pay her more
+for writing her stories, for I read one of 'em that made me cry so the
+Doctor--my Doctor Benjamin--said, “Ma, what makes your eyes look so?”
+ and wanted to rig a machine up and look at 'em, but I told him what the
+matter was, and that he needn't fix up his peeking contrivances on
+my account,--anyhow she's a nice young woman as ever lived, and
+as industrious with that pen of hers as if she was at work with a
+sewing-machine,--and there ain't much difference, for that matter,
+between sewing on shirts and writing on stories,--one way you work with
+your foot, and the other way you work with your fingers, but I rather
+guess there's more headache in the stories than there is in the
+stitches, because you don't have to think quite so hard while your
+foot's going as you do when your fingers is at work, scratch, scratch,
+scratch, scribble, scribble, scribble.
+
+It occurred to me that this last suggestion of the Landlady was worth
+considering by the soft-handed, broadcloth-clad spouters to the laboring
+classes,--so called in distinction from the idle people who only
+contrive the machinery and discover the processes and lay out the work
+and draw the charts and organize the various movements which keep the
+world going and make it tolerable. The organ-blower works harder with
+his muscles, for that matter, than the organ player, and may perhaps be
+exasperated into thinking himself a downtrodden martyr because he does
+not receive the same pay for his services.
+
+I will not pretend that it needed the Landlady's sagacious guess
+about the Young Astronomer and his pupil to open my eyes to certain
+possibilities, if not probabilities, in that direction. Our Scheherezade
+kept on writing her stories according to agreement, so many pages for so
+many dollars, but some of her readers began to complain that they could
+not always follow her quite so well as in her earlier efforts. It seemed
+as if she must have fits of absence. In one instance her heroine began
+as a blonde and finished as a brunette; not in consequence of the use
+of any cosmetic, but through simple inadvertence. At last it happened in
+one of her stories that a prominent character who had been killed in
+an early page, not equivocally, but mortally, definitively killed, done
+for, and disposed of, reappeared as if nothing had happened towards the
+close of her narrative. Her mind was on something else, and she had got
+two stories mixed up and sent her manuscript without having looked it
+over. She told this mishap to the Lady, as something she was dreadfully
+ashamed of and could not possibly account for. It had cost her a sharp
+note from the publisher, and would be as good as a dinner to some
+half-starved Bohemian of the critical press.
+
+The Lady listened to all this very thoughtfully, looking at her with
+great tenderness, and said, “My poor child!” Not another word then, but
+her silence meant a good deal.
+
+When a man holds his tongue it does not signify much. But when a woman
+dispenses with the office of that mighty member, when she sheathes her
+natural weapon at a trying moment, it means that she trusts to still
+more formidable enginery; to tears it may be, a solvent more powerful
+than that with which Hannibal softened the Alpine rocks, or to the
+heaving bosom, the sight of which has subdued so many stout natures,
+or, it may be, to a sympathizing, quieting look which says “Peace, be
+still!” to the winds and waves of the little inland ocean, in a language
+that means more than speech.
+
+While these matters were going on the Master and I had many talks on
+many subjects. He had found me a pretty good listener, for I had learned
+that the best way of getting at what was worth having from him was to
+wind him up with a question and let him run down all of himself. It is
+easy to turn a good talker into an insufferable bore by contradicting
+him, and putting questions for him to stumble over,--that is, if he
+is not a bore already, as “good talkers” are apt to be, except now and
+then.
+
+We had been discussing some knotty points one morning when he said all
+at once:
+
+--Come into my library with me. I want to read you some new passages
+from an interleaved copy of my book. You haven't read the printed part
+yet. I gave you a copy of it, but nobody reads a book that is given to
+him. Of course not. Nobody but a fool expects him to. He reads a little
+in it here and there, perhaps, and he cuts all the leaves if he cares
+enough about the writer, who will be sure to call on him some day, and
+if he is left alone in his library for five minutes will have hunted
+every corner of it until he has found the book he sent,--if it is to be
+found at all, which does n't always happen, if there's a penal colony
+anywhere in a garret or closet for typographical offenders and vagrants.
+
+--What do you do when you receive a book you don't want, from the
+author?--said I.
+
+--Give him a good-natured adjective or two if I can, and thank him, and
+tell him I am lying under a sense of obligation to him.
+
+--That is as good an excuse for lying as almost any,--I said.
+
+--Yes, but look out for the fellows that send you a copy of their book
+to trap you into writing a bookseller's advertisement for it. I got
+caught so once, and never heard the end of it and never shall hear
+it.--He took down an elegantly bound volume, on opening which
+appeared a flourishing and eminently flattering dedication to
+himself.--There,--said he, what could I do less than acknowledge such
+a compliment in polite terms, and hope and expect the book would prove
+successful, and so forth and so forth? Well, I get a letter every few
+months from some new locality where the man that made that book is
+covering the fences with his placards, asking me whether I wrote that
+letter which he keeps in stereotype and has kept so any time these dozen
+or fifteen years. Animus tuus oculus, as the freshmen used to say. If
+her Majesty, the Queen of England, sends you a copy of her “Leaves from
+the Journal of Our Life in the Highlands,” be sure you mark your letter
+of thanks for it Private!
+
+We had got comfortably seated in his library in the mean time, and the
+Master had taken up his book. I noticed that every other page was left
+blank, and that he had written in a good deal of new matter.
+
+--I tell you what,--he said,--there 's so much intelligence about
+nowadays in books and newspapers and talk that it's mighty hard to write
+without getting something or other worth listening to into your essay
+or your volume. The foolishest book is a kind of leaky boat on a sea of
+wisdom; some of the wisdom will get in anyhow. Every now and then I find
+something in my book that seems so good to me, I can't help thinking
+it must have leaked in. I suppose other people discover that it came
+through a leak, full as soon as I do. You must write a book or two to
+find out how much and how little you know and have to say. Then you must
+read some notices of it by somebody that loves you and one or two by
+somebody that hates you. You 'll find yourself a very odd piece of
+property after you 've been through these experiences. They 're trying
+to the constitution; I'm always glad to hear that a friend is as well as
+can be expected after he 's had a book.
+
+You must n't think there are no better things in these pages of mine
+than the ones I'm going to read you, but you may come across something
+here that I forgot to say when we were talking over these matters.
+
+He began, reading from the manuscript portion of his book:
+
+--We find it hard to get and to keep any private property in thought.
+Other people are all the time saying the same things we are hoarding to
+say when we get ready. [He looked up from his book just here and said,
+“Don't be afraid, I am not going to quote Pereant.”] One of our old
+boarders--the one that called himself “The Professor” I think
+it was--said some pretty audacious things about what he called
+“pathological piety,” as I remember, in one of his papers. And here
+comes along Mr. Galton, and shows in detail from religious biographies
+that “there is a frequent correlation between an unusually devout
+disposition and a weak constitution.” Neither of them appeared to know
+that John Bunyan had got at the same fact long before them. He tells us,
+“The more healthy the lusty man is, the more prone he is unto evil.” If
+the converse is true, no wonder that good people, according to Bunyan,
+are always in trouble and terror, for he says,
+
+ “A Christian man is never long at ease;
+ When one fright is gone, another doth him seize.”
+
+If invalidism and the nervous timidity which is apt to go with it
+are elements of spiritual superiority, it follows that pathology and
+toxicology should form a most important part of a theological education,
+so that a divine might know how to keep a parish in a state of chronic
+bad health in order that it might be virtuous.
+
+It is a great mistake to think that a man's religion is going to rid
+him of his natural qualities. “Bishop Hall” (as you may remember to have
+seen quoted elsewhere) “prefers Nature before Grace in the Election of
+a wife, because, saith he, it will be a hard Task, where the Nature is
+peevish and froward, for Grace to make an entire conquest while Life
+lasteth.”
+
+“Nature” and “Grace” have been contrasted with each other in a way not
+very respectful to the Divine omnipotence. Kings and queens reign “by
+the Grace of God,” but a sweet, docile, pious disposition, such as is
+born in some children and grows up with them,--that congenital gift
+which good Bishop Hall would look for in a wife,--is attributed to
+“Nature.” In fact “Nature” and “Grace,” as handled by the scholastics,
+are nothing more nor less than two hostile Divinities in the Pantheon of
+post-classical polytheism.
+
+What is the secret of the profound interest which “Darwinism” has
+excited in the minds and hearts of more persons than dare to confess
+their doubts and hopes? It is because it restores “Nature” to its place
+as a true divine manifestation. It is that it removes the traditional
+curse from that helpless infant lying in its mother's arms. It is that
+it lifts from the shoulders of man the responsibility for the fact of
+death. It is that, if it is true, woman can no longer be taunted with
+having brought down on herself the pangs which make her sex a martyrdom.
+If development upward is the general law of the race; if we have grown
+by natural evolution out of the cave-man, and even less human forms of
+life, we have everything to hope from the future. That the question can
+be discussed without offence shows that we are entering on a new era, a
+Revival greater than that of Letters, the Revival of Humanity.
+
+The prevalent view of “Nature” has been akin to that which long reigned
+with reference to disease. This used to be considered as a distinct
+entity apart from the processes of life, of which it is one of the
+manifestations. It was a kind of demon to be attacked with things of
+odious taste and smell; to be fumigated out of the system as the evil
+spirit was driven from the bridal-chamber in the story of Tobit. The
+Doctor of earlier days, even as I can remember him, used to exorcise the
+demon of disease with recipes of odor as potent as that of the
+angel's diabolifuge,--the smoke from a fish's heart and liver, duly
+burned,--“the which smell when the evil spirit had smelled he fled into
+the uttermost parts of Egypt.” The very moment that disease passes into
+the category of vital processes, and is recognized as an occurrence
+absolutely necessary, inevitable, and as one may say, normal under
+certain given conditions of constitution and circumstance, the
+medicine-man loses his half-miraculous endowments. The mythical serpent
+is untwined from the staff of Esculapius, which thenceforth becomes a
+useful walking-stick, and does not pretend to be anything more.
+
+Sin, like disease, is a vital process. It is a function, and not an
+entity. It must be studied as a section of anthropology. No preconceived
+idea must be allowed to interfere with our investigation of the deranged
+spiritual function, any more than the old ideas of demoniacal possession
+must be allowed to interfere with our study of epilepsy. Spiritual
+pathology is a proper subject for direct observation and analysis, like
+any other subject involving a series of living actions.
+
+In these living actions everything is progressive. There are sudden
+changes of character in what is called “conversion” which, at first,
+hardly seem to come into line with the common laws of evolution. But
+these changes have been long preparing, and it is just as much in the
+order of nature that certain characters should burst all at once from
+the rule of evil propensities, as it is that the evening primrose should
+explode, as it were, into bloom with audible sound, as you may read in
+Keats's Endymion, or observe in your own garden.
+
+There is a continual tendency in men to fence in themselves and a few of
+their neighbors who agree with them in their ideas, as if they were
+an exception to their race. We must not allow any creed or religion
+whatsoever to confiscate to its own private use and benefit the virtues
+which belong to our common humanity. The Good Samaritan helped his
+wounded neighbor simply because he was a suffering fellow-creature.
+Do you think your charitable act is more acceptable than the Good
+Samaritan's, because you do it in the name of Him who made the memory of
+that kind man immortal? Do you mean that you would not give the cup
+of cold water for the sake simply and solely of the poor, suffering
+fellow-mortal, as willingly as you now do, professing to give it for the
+sake of Him who is not thirsty or in need of any help of yours? We must
+ask questions like this, if we are to claim for our common nature what
+belongs to it.
+
+The scientific study of man is the most difficult of all branches of
+knowledge. It requires, in the first place, an entire new terminology
+to get rid of that enormous load of prejudices with which every term
+applied to the malformations, the functional disturbances, and the
+organic diseases of the moral nature is at present burdened. Take that
+one word Sin, for instance: all those who have studied the subject from
+nature and not from books know perfectly well that a certain fraction
+of what is so called is nothing more or less than a symptom of hysteria;
+that another fraction is the index of a limited degree of insanity; that
+still another is the result of a congenital tendency which removes the
+act we sit in judgment upon from the sphere of self-determination,
+if not entirely, at least to such an extent that the subject of the
+tendency cannot be judged by any normal standard.
+
+To study nature without fear is possible, but without reproach,
+impossible. The man who worships in the temple of knowledge must carry
+his arms with him as our Puritan fathers had to do when they gathered
+in their first rude meeting-houses. It is a fearful thing to meddle with
+the ark which holds the mysteries of creation. I remember that when I
+was a child the tradition was whispered round among us little folks that
+if we tried to count the stars we should drop down dead. Nevertheless,
+the stars have been counted and the astronomer has survived. This
+nursery legend is the child's version of those superstitions which would
+have strangled in their cradles the young sciences now adolescent and
+able to take care of themselves, and which, no longer daring to
+attack these, are watching with hostile aspect the rapid growth of the
+comparatively new science of man.
+
+The real difficulty of the student of nature at this time is to
+reconcile absolute freedom and perfect fearlessness with that respect
+for the past, that reverence, for the spirit of reverence wherever we
+find it, that tenderness for the weakest fibres by which the hearts of
+our fellow-creatures hold to their religious convictions, which will
+make the transition from old belief to a larger light and liberty an
+interstitial change and not a violent mutilation.
+
+I remember once going into a little church in a small village some miles
+from a great European capital. The special object of adoration in this
+humblest of places of worship was a bambino, a holy infant, done in wax,
+and covered with cheap ornaments such as a little girl would like to
+beautify her doll with. Many a good Protestant of the old Puritan type
+would have felt a strong impulse to seize this “idolatrous” figure and
+dash it to pieces on the stone floor of the little church. But one must
+have lived awhile among simple-minded pious Catholics to know what this
+poor waxen image and the whole baby-house of bambinos mean for a humble,
+unlettered, unimaginative peasantry. He will find that the true office
+of this eidolon is to fix the mind of the worshipper, and that in virtue
+of the devotional thoughts it has called forth so often for so many
+years in the mind of that poor old woman who is kneeling before it, it
+is no longer a wax doll for her, but has undergone a transubstantiation
+quite as real as that of the Eucharist. The moral is that we must not
+roughly smash other people's idols because we know, or think we know,
+that they are of cheap human manufacture.
+
+--Do you think cheap manufactures encourage idleness?--said I.
+
+The Master stared. Well he might, for I had been getting a little
+drowsy, and wishing to show that I had been awake and attentive, asked
+a question suggested by some words I had caught, but which showed that
+I had not been taking the slightest idea from what he was reading me. He
+stared, shook his head slowly, smiled good-humoredly, took off his great
+round spectacles, and shut up his book.
+
+--Sat prates biberunt,--he said. A sick man that gets talking about
+himself, a woman that gets talking about her baby, and an author that
+begins reading out of his own book, never know when to stop. You'll
+think of some of these things you've been getting half asleep over by
+and by. I don't want you to believe anything I say; I only want you to
+try to see what makes me believe it.
+
+My young friend, the Astronomer, has, I suspect, been making some
+addition to his manuscript. At any rate some of the lines he read us
+in the afternoon of this same day had never enjoyed the benefit of my
+revision, and I think they had but just been written. I noticed that his
+manner was somewhat more excited than usual, and his voice just towards
+the close a little tremulous. Perhaps I may attribute his improvement
+to the effect of my criticisms, but whatever the reason, I think these
+lines are very nearly as correct as they would have been if I had looked
+them over.
+
+ WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.
+
+ VII
+
+ What if a soul redeemed, a spirit that loved
+ While yet on earth and was beloved in turn,
+ And still remembered every look and tone
+ Of that dear earthly sister who was left
+ Among the unwise virgins at the gate,
+ Itself admitted with the bridegroom's train,
+ What if this spirit redeemed, amid the host
+ Of chanting angels, in some transient lull
+ Of the eternal anthem, heard the cry
+ Of its lost darling, whom in evil hour
+ Some wilder pulse of nature led astray
+ And left an outcast in a world of fire,
+ Condemned to be the sport of cruel fiends,
+ Sleepless, unpitying, masters of the skill
+ To wring the maddest ecstasies of pain
+ From worn-out souls that only ask to die,
+ Would it not long to leave the bliss of Heaven,
+ Bearing a little water in its hand
+ To moisten those poor lips that plead in vain
+ With Him we call our Father? Or is all
+ So changed in such as taste celestial joy
+ They hear unmoved the endless wail of woe,
+ The daughter in the same dear tones that hushed
+ Her cradled slumbers; she who once had held
+ A babe upon her bosom from its voice
+ Hoarse with its cry of anguish, yet the same?
+
+ No! not in ages when the Dreadful Bird
+ Stamped his huge footprints, and the Fearful Beast
+ Strode with the flesh about those fossil bones
+ We build to mimic life with pygmy hands,
+ Not in those earliest days when men ran wild
+ And gashed each other with their knives of stone,
+ When their low foreheads bulged in ridgy brows
+ And their flat hands were callous in the palm
+ With walking in the fashion of their sires,
+ Grope as they might to find a cruel god
+ To work their will on such as human wrath
+ Had wrought its worst to torture, and had left
+ With rage unsated, white and stark and cold,
+ Could hate have shaped a demon more malign
+ Than him the dead men mummied in their creed
+ And taught their trembling children to adore!
+ Made in his image! Sweet and gracious souls
+ Dear to my heart by nature's fondest names,
+ Is not your memory still the precious mould
+ That lends its form to Him who hears my prayer?
+ Thus only I behold him, like to them,
+ Long-suffering, gentle, ever slow to wrath,
+ If wrath it be that only wounds to heal,
+ Ready to meet the wanderer ere he reach
+ The door he seeks, forgetful of his sin,
+ Longing to clasp him in a father's arms,
+ And seal his pardon with a pitying tear!
+
+ Four gospels tell their story to mankind,
+ And none so full of soft, caressing words
+ That bring the Maid of Bethlehem and her Babe
+ Before our tear-dimmed eyes, as his who learned
+ In the meek service of his gracious art
+ The tones which like the medicinal balms
+ That calm the sufferer's anguish, soothe our souls.
+ --Oh that the loving woman, she who sat
+ So long a listener at her Master's feet,
+ Had left us Mary's Gospel,--all she heard
+ Too sweet, too subtle for the ear of man!
+ Mark how the tender-hearted mothers read
+ The messages of love between the lines
+ Of the same page that loads the bitter tongue
+ Of him who deals in terror as his trade
+ With threatening words of wrath that scorch like flame!
+ They tell of angels whispering round the bed
+ Of the sweet infant smiling in its dream,
+ Of lambs enfolded in the Shepherd's arms,
+ Of Him who blessed the children; of the land
+ Where crystal rivers feed unfading flowers,
+ Of cities golden-paved with streets of pearl,
+ Of the white robes the winged creatures wear,
+ The crowns and harps from whose melodious strings
+ One long, sweet anthem flows forevermore!
+
+ --We too bad human mothers, even as Thou,
+ Whom we have learned to worship as remote
+ From mortal kindred, wast a cradled babe.
+ The milk of woman filled our branching veins,
+ She lulled us with her tender nursery-song,
+ And folded round us her untiring arms,
+ While the first unremembered twilight year
+ Shaped us to conscious being; still we feel
+ Her pulses in our own,--too faintly feel;
+ Would that the heart of woman warmed our creeds!
+
+ Not from the sad-eyed hermit's lonely cell,
+ Not from the conclave where the holy men
+ Glare on each other, as with angry eyes
+ They battle for God's glory and their own,
+ Till, sick of wordy strife, a show of hands
+ Fixes the faith of ages yet unborn,
+ Ah, not from these the listening soul can hear
+ The Father's voice that speaks itself divine!
+ Love must be still our Master; till we learn
+ What he can teach us of a woman's heart,
+ We know not His, whose love embraces all.
+
+There are certain nervous conditions peculiar to women in which the
+common effects of poetry and of music upon their sensibilities are
+strangely exaggerated. It was not perhaps to be wondered at that Octavia
+fainted when Virgil in reading from his great poem came to the line
+beginning Tu Marcellus eris: It is not hard to believe the story told
+of one of the two Davidson sisters, that the singing of some of Moore's
+plaintive melodies would so impress her as almost to take away the
+faculties of sense and motion. But there must have been some special
+cause for the singular nervous state into which this reading threw the
+young girl, our Scheherezade. She was doubtless tired with overwork and
+troubled with the thought that she was not doing herself justice, and
+that she was doomed to be the helpless prey of some of those corbies who
+not only pick out corbies' eyes, but find no other diet so nutritious
+and agreeable.
+
+Whatever the cause may have been, her heart heaved tumultuously, her
+color came and went, and though she managed to avoid a scene by the
+exercise of all her self-control, I watched her very anxiously, for I
+was afraid she would have had a hysteric turn, or in one of her pallid
+moments that she would have fainted and fallen like one dead before us.
+
+I was very glad, therefore, when evening came, to find that she was
+going out for a lesson on the stars. I knew the open air was what she
+needed, and I thought the walk would do her good, whether she made any
+new astronomical acquisitions or not.
+
+It was now late in the autumn, and the trees were pretty nearly stripped
+of their leaves.--There was no place so favorable as the Common for the
+study of the heavens. The skies were brilliant with stars, and the air
+was just keen enough to remind our young friends that the cold season
+was at hand. They wandered round for a while, and at last found
+themselves under the Great Elm, drawn thither, no doubt, by the
+magnetism it is so well known to exert over the natives of its own soil
+and those who have often been under the shadow of its outstretched arms.
+The venerable survivor of its contemporaries that flourished in the days
+when Blackstone rode beneath it on his bull was now a good deal broken
+by age, yet not without marks of lusty vitality. It had been wrenched
+and twisted and battered by so many scores of winters that some of its
+limbs were crippled and many of its joints were shaky, and but for the
+support of the iron braces that lent their strong sinews to its more
+infirm members it would have gone to pieces in the first strenuous
+northeaster or the first sudden and violent gale from the southwest.
+But there it stood, and there it stands as yet,--though its obituary
+was long ago written after one of the terrible storms that tore its
+branches,--leafing out hopefully in April as if it were trying in its
+dumb language to lisp “Our Father,” and dropping its slender burden of
+foliage in October as softly as if it were whispering Amen!
+
+Not far from the ancient and monumental tree lay a small sheet of water,
+once agile with life and vocal with evening melodies, but now stirred
+only by the swallow as he dips his wing, or by the morning bath of
+the English sparrows, those high-headed, thick-bodied, full-feeding,
+hot-tempered little John Bulls that keep up such a swashing and swabbing
+and spattering round all the water basins, one might think from the fuss
+they make about it that a bird never took a bath here before, and that
+they were the missionaries of ablution to the unwashed Western world.
+
+There are those who speak lightly of this small aqueous expanse, the eye
+of the sacred enclosure, which has looked unwinking on the happy faces
+of so many natives and the curious features of so many strangers.
+The music of its twilight minstrels has long ceased, but their memory
+lingers like an echo in the name it bears. Cherish it, inhabitants
+of the two-hilled city, once three-hilled; ye who have said to the
+mountain, “Remove hence,” and turned the sea into dry land! May no
+contractor fill his pockets by undertaking to fill thee, thou granite
+girdled lakelet, or drain the civic purse by drawing off thy waters! For
+art thou not the Palladium of our Troy? Didst thou not, like the Divine
+image which was the safeguard of Ilium, fall from the skies, and if
+the Trojan could look with pride upon the heaven-descended form of the
+Goddess of Wisdom, cannot he who dwells by thy shining oval look in that
+mirror and contemplate Himself,--the Native of Boston.
+
+There must be some fatality which carries our young men and maidens in
+the direction of the Common when they have anything very particular
+to exchange their views about. At any rate I remember two of our young
+friends brought up here a good many years ago, and I understand that
+there is one path across the enclosure which a young man must not ask
+a young woman to take with him unless he means business, for an action
+will hold--for breach of promise, if she consents to accompany him, and
+he chooses to forget his obligations:
+
+Our two young people stood at the western edge of the little pool,
+studying astronomy in the reflected firmament. The Pleiades were
+trembling in the wave before them, and the three great stars of
+Orion,--for these constellations were both glittering in the eastern
+sky.
+
+“There is no place too humble for the glories of heaven to shine in,”
+ she said.
+
+“And their splendor makes even this little pool beautiful and noble,” he
+answered. “Where is the light to come from that is to do as much for our
+poor human lives?”
+
+A simple question enough, but the young girl felt her color change as
+she answered, “From friendship, I think.”
+
+--Grazing only as-yet,--not striking full, hardly hitting at all,--but
+there are questions and answers that come so very near, the wind of them
+alone almost takes the breath away.
+
+There was an interval of silence. Two young persons can stand looking
+at water for a long time without feeling the necessity of speaking.
+Especially when the water is alive with stars and the young persons
+are thoughtful and impressible. The water seems to do half the thinking
+while one is looking at it; its movements are felt in the brain very
+much like thought. When I was in full training as a flaneur, I could
+stand on the Pont Neuf with the other experts in the great science
+of passive cerebration and look at the river for half an hour with
+so little mental articulation that when I moved on it seemed as if my
+thinking-marrow had been asleep and was just waking up refreshed after
+its nap.
+
+So the reader can easily account for the interval of silence. It is
+hard to tell how long it would have lasted, but just then a lubberly
+intrusive boy threw a great stone, which convulsed the firmament, the
+one at their feet, I mean. The six Pleiads disappeared as if in search
+of their lost sister; the belt of Orion was broken asunder, and a
+hundred worlds dissolved back into chaos. They turned away and strayed
+off into one of the more open paths, where the view of the sky over them
+was unobstructed. For some reason or other the astronomical lesson did
+not get on very fast this evening.
+
+Presently the young man asked his pupil:
+
+--Do you know what the constellation directly over our heads is?
+
+--Is it not Cassiopea?--she asked a little hesitatingly.
+
+--No, it is Andromeda. You ought not to have forgotten her, for I
+remember showing you a double star, the one in her right foot, through
+the equatorial telescope. You have not forgotten the double star,--the
+two that shone for each other and made a little world by themselves?
+
+--No, indeed,--she answered, and blushed, and felt ashamed because she
+had said indeed, as if it had been an emotional recollection.
+
+The double-star allusion struck another dead silence. She would have
+given a week's pay to any invisible attendant that would have cut her
+stay-lace.
+
+At last: Do you know the story of Andromeda? he said.
+
+--Perhaps I did once, but suppose I don't remember it.
+
+He told her the story of the unfortunate maiden chained to a rock and
+waiting for a sea-beast that was coming to devour her, and how Perseus
+came and set her free, and won her love with her life. And then he
+began something about a young man chained to his rock, which was
+a star-gazer's tower, a prey by turns to ambition, and lonely
+self-contempt and unwholesome scorn of the life he looked down upon
+after the serenity of the firmament, and endless questionings that led
+him nowhere,--and now he had only one more question to ask. He loved
+her. Would she break his chain?--He held both his hands out towards her,
+the palms together, as if they were fettered at the wrists. She took
+hold of them very gently; parted them a little; then wider--wider--and
+found herself all at once folded, unresisting, in her lover's arms.
+
+So there was a new double-star in the living firmament. The
+constellations seemed to kindle with new splendors as the student and
+the story-teller walked homeward in their light; Alioth and Algol looked
+down on them as on the first pair of lovers they shone over, and the
+autumn air seemed full of harmonies as when the morning stars sang
+together.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+The old Master had asked us, the Young Astronomer and myself, into his
+library, to hear him read some passages from his interleaved book. We
+three had formed a kind of little club without knowing it from the
+time when the young man began reading those extracts from his poetical
+reveries which I have reproduced in these pages. Perhaps we agreed in
+too many things,--I suppose if we could have had a good hard-headed,
+old-fashioned New England divine to meet with us it might have acted as
+a wholesome corrective. For we had it all our own way; the Lady's kindly
+remonstrance was taken in good part, but did not keep us from talking
+pretty freely, and as for the Young Girl, she listened with the
+tranquillity and fearlessness which a very simple trusting creed
+naturally gives those who hold it. The fewer outworks to the citadel of
+belief, the fewer points there are to be threatened and endangered.
+
+The reader must not suppose that I even attempt to reproduce everything
+exactly as it took place in our conversations, or when we met to listen
+to the Master's prose or to the Young Astronomer's verse. I do not
+pretend to give all the pauses and interruptions by question or
+otherwise. I could not always do it if I tried, but I do not want
+to, for oftentimes it is better to let the speaker or reader go on
+continuously, although there may have been many breaks in the course of
+the conversation or reading. When, for instance, I by and by reproduce
+what the Landlady said to us, I shall give it almost without any
+hint that it was arrested in its flow from time to time by various
+expressions on the part of the hearers.
+
+I can hardly say what the reason of it was, but it is very certain that
+I had a vague sense of some impending event as we took our seats in
+the Master's library. He seemed particularly anxious that we should be
+comfortably seated, and shook up the cushions of the arm-chairs himself,
+and got them into the right places.
+
+Now go to sleep--he said--or listen,--just which you like best. But I am
+going to begin by telling you both a secret.
+
+Liberavi animam meam. That is the meaning of my book and of my literary
+life, if I may give such a name to that party-colored shred of human
+existence. I have unburdened myself in this book, and in some other
+pages, of what I was born to say. Many things that I have said in my
+ripe days have been aching in my soul since I was a mere child. I say
+aching, because they conflicted with many of my inherited beliefs, or
+rather traditions. I did not know then that two strains of blood were
+striving in me for the mastery,--two! twenty, perhaps,--twenty thousand,
+for aught I know,--but represented to me by two,--paternal and maternal.
+Blind forces in themselves; shaping thoughts as they shaped features
+and battled for the moulding of constitution and the mingling of
+temperament.
+
+Philosophy and poetry came--to me before I knew their names.
+
+ Je fis mes premiers vers, sans savoir les ecrire.
+
+Not verses so much as the stuff that verses are made of. I don't suppose
+that the thoughts which came up of themselves in my mind were so mighty
+different from what come up in the minds of other young folks. And
+that 's the best reason I could give for telling 'em. I don't believe
+anything I've written is as good as it seemed to me when I wrote it,--he
+stopped, for he was afraid he was lying,--not much that I 've written,
+at any rate,--he said--with a smile at the honesty which made him
+qualify his statement. But I do know this: I have struck a good many
+chords, first and last, in the consciousness of other people. I confess
+to a tender feeling for my little brood of thoughts. When they have been
+welcomed and praised it has pleased me, and if at any time they have
+been rudely handled and despitefully entreated it has cost me a little
+worry. I don't despise reputation, and I should like to be remembered as
+having said something worth lasting well enough to last.
+
+But all that is nothing to the main comfort I feel as a writer. I have
+got rid of something my mind could not keep to itself and rise as it was
+meant to into higher regions. I saw the aeronauts the other day emptying
+from the bags some of the sand that served as ballast. It glistened a
+moment in the sunlight as a slender shower, and then was lost and seen
+no more as it scattered itself unnoticed. But the airship rose higher
+as the sand was poured out, and so it seems to me I have felt myself
+getting above the mists and clouds whenever I have lightened myself of
+some portion of the mental ballast I have carried with me. Why should I
+hope or fear when I send out my book? I have had my reward, for I have
+wrought out my thought, I have said my say, I have freed my soul. I can
+afford to be forgotten.
+
+Look here!--he said. I keep oblivion always before me.--He pointed to a
+singularly perfect and beautiful trilobite which was lying on a pile of
+manuscripts.--Each time I fill a sheet of paper with what I am writing,
+I lay it beneath this relic of a dead world, and project my thought
+forward into eternity as far as this extinct crustacean carries it
+backward. When my heart beats too lustily with vain hopes of being
+remembered, I press the cold fossil against it and it grows calm. I
+touch my forehead with it, and its anxious furrows grow smooth. Our
+world, too, with all its breathing life, is but a leaf to be folded with
+the other strata, and if I am only patient, by and by I shall be just as
+famous as imperious Caesar himself, embedded with me in a conglomerate.
+
+He began reading:--“There is no new thing under the sun,” said the
+Preacher. He would not say so now, if he should come to life for a
+little while, and have his photograph taken, and go up in a balloon,
+and take a trip by railroad and a voyage by steamship, and get a message
+from General Grant by the cable, and see a man's leg cut off without its
+hurting him. If it did not take his breath away and lay him out as flat
+as the Queen of Sheba was knocked over by the splendors of his court, he
+must have rivalled our Indians in the nil admarari line.
+
+For all that, it is a strange thing to see what numbers of new things
+are really old. There are many modern contrivances that are of as early
+date as the first man, if not thousands of centuries older. Everybody
+knows how all the arrangements of our telescopes and microscopes
+are anticipated in the eye, and how our best musical instruments
+are surpassed by the larynx. But there are some very odd things any
+anatomist can tell, showing how our recent contrivances are anticipated
+in the human body. In the alimentary canal are certain pointed eminences
+called villi, and certain ridges called valvuloe conniventes. The makers
+of heating apparatus have exactly reproduced the first in the “pot” of
+their furnaces, and the second in many of the radiators to be seen in
+our public buildings. The object in the body and the heating apparatus
+is the same; to increase the extent of surface.--We mix hair with
+plaster (as the Egyptians mixed straw with clay to make bricks) so that
+it shall hold more firmly. But before man had any artificial dwelling
+the same contrivance of mixing fibrous threads with a cohesive substance
+had been employed in the jointed fabric of his own spinal column.
+India-rubber is modern, but the yellow animal substance which is elastic
+like that, and serves the same purpose in the animal economy which that
+serves in our mechanical contrivances, is as old as the mammalia.
+The dome, the round and the Gothic arch, the groined roof, the flying
+buttress, are all familiar to those who have studied the bony frame of
+man. All forms of the lever and all the principal kinds of hinges are
+to be met with in our own frames. The valvular arrangements of the
+blood-vessels are unapproached by any artificial apparatus, and the
+arrangements for preventing friction are so perfect that two surfaces
+will play on each other for fourscore years or more and never once
+trouble their owner by catching or rubbing so as to be felt or heard.
+
+But stranger than these repetitions are the coincidences one finds in
+the manners and speech of antiquity and our own time. In the days when
+Flood Ireson was drawn in the cart by the Maenads of Marblehead, that
+fishing town had the name of nurturing a young population not over fond
+of strangers. It used to be said that if an unknown landsman showed
+himself in the streets, the boys would follow after him, crying, “Rock
+him! Rock him! He's got a long-tailed coat on!”
+
+Now if one opens the Odyssey, he will find that the Phaeacians, three
+thousand years ago, were wonderfully like these youthful Marbleheaders.
+The blue-eyed Goddess who convoys Ulysses, under the disguise of a
+young maiden of the place, gives him some excellent advice. “Hold your
+tongue,” she says, “and don't look at anybody or ask any questions, for
+these are seafaring people, and don't like to have strangers round or
+anybody that does not belong here.”
+
+Who would have thought that the saucy question, “Does your mother know
+you're out?” was the very same that Horace addressed to the bore who
+attacked him in the Via Sacra?
+
+ Interpellandi locus hic erat; Est tibi mater?
+ Cognati, queis te salvo est opus?
+
+And think of the London cockney's prefix of the letter h to innocent
+words beginning with a vowel having its prototype in the speech of the
+vulgar Roman, as may be seen in the verses of Catullus:
+
+ Chommoda dicebat, siquando commoda vellet
+ Dicere, et hinsidias Arrius insidias.
+ Et tum mirifice sperabat se esse locutum,
+ Cum quantum poterat, dixerat hinsidias...
+
+ Hoc misso in Syriam, requierant omnibus aures...
+ Cum subito affertur nuncius horribilis;
+ Ionios fluctus, postquam illue Arrius isset,
+ Jam non Ionios esse, sed Hionios.
+
+--Our neighbors of Manhattan have an excellent jest about our crooked
+streets which, if they were a little more familiar with a native author
+of unquestionable veracity, they would strike out from the letter of
+“Our Boston Correspondent,” where it is a source of perennial hilarity.
+It is worth while to reprint, for the benefit of whom it may concern,
+a paragraph from the authentic history of the venerable Diedrich
+Knickerbocker:
+
+“The sage council, as has been mentioned in a preceding chapter,
+not being able to determine upon any plan for the building of their
+city,--the cows, in a laudable fit of patriotism, took it under their
+peculiar charge, and as they went to and from pasture, established paths
+through the bushes, on each side of which the good folks built their
+houses; which is one cause of the rambling and picturesque turns and
+labyrinths, which distinguish certain streets of New York at this very
+day.”
+
+--When I was a little boy there came to stay with us for a while a young
+lady with a singularly white complexion. Now I had often seen the masons
+slacking lime, and I thought it was the whitest thing I had ever looked
+upon. So I always called this fair visitor of ours Slacked Lime. I think
+she is still living in a neighboring State, and I am sure she has never
+forgotten the fanciful name I gave her. But within ten or a dozen years
+I have seen this very same comparison going the round of the papers, and
+credited to a Welsh poet, David Ap Gwyllym, or something like that, by
+name.
+
+--I turned a pretty sentence enough in one of my lectures about finding
+poppies springing up amidst the corn; as if it had been foreseen by
+nature that wherever there should be hunger that asked for food, there
+would be pain that needed relief,--and many years afterwards. I had the
+pleasure of finding that Mistress Piozzi had been beforehand with me in
+suggesting the same moral reflection.
+
+--I should like to carry some of my friends to see a giant bee-hive I
+have discovered. Its hum can be heard half a mile, and the great
+white swarm counts its tens of thousands. They pretend to call it a
+planing-mill, but if it is not a bee-hive it is so like one that if a
+hundred people have not said so before me, it is very singular that they
+have not. If I wrote verses I would try to bring it in, and I suppose
+people would start up in a dozen places, and say, “Oh, that bee-hive
+simile is mine,--and besides, did not Mr. Bayard Taylor call the
+snowflakes 'white bees'?”
+
+I think the old Master had chosen these trivialities on purpose to amuse
+the Young Astronomer and myself, if possible, and so make sure of our
+keeping awake while he went on reading, as follows:
+
+--How the sweet souls of all time strike the same note, the same because
+it is in unison with the divine voice that sings to them! I read in the
+Zend Avesta, “No earthly man with a hundred-fold strength speaks so much
+evil as Mithra with heavenly strength speaks good. No earthly man with a
+hundred-fold strength does so much evil as Mithra with heavenly strength
+does good.”
+
+And now leave Persia and Zoroaster, and come down with me to our own
+New England and one of our old Puritan preachers. It was in the dreadful
+days of the Salem Witchcraft delusion that one Jonathan Singletary,
+being then in the prison at Ipswich, gave his testimony as to certain
+fearful occurrences,--a great noise, as of many cats climbing, skipping,
+and jumping, of throwing about of furniture, and of men walking in the
+chambers, with crackling and shaking as if the house would fall upon
+him.
+
+“I was at present,” he says, “something affrighted; yet considering what
+I had lately heard made out by Mr. Mitchel at Cambridge, that there is
+more good in God than there is evil in sin, and that although God is
+the greatest good and sin the greatest evil, yet the first Being of
+evil cannot weave the scales or overpower the first Being of good:
+so considering that the authour of good was of greater power than the
+authour of evil, God was pleased of his goodness to keep me from being
+out of measure frighted.”
+
+I shall always bless the memory of this poor, timid creature for saving
+that dear remembrance of “Matchless Mitchel.” How many, like him,
+have thought they were preaching a new gospel, when they were only
+reaffirming the principles which underlie the Magna Charta of humanity,
+and are common to the noblest utterances of all the nobler creeds! But
+spoken by those solemn lips to those stern, simpleminded hearers, the
+words I have cited seem to me to have a fragrance like the precious
+ointment of spikenard with which Mary anointed her Master's feet. I can
+see the little bare meeting-house, with the godly deacons, and the grave
+matrons, and the comely maidens, and the sober manhood of the village,
+with the small group of college students sitting by themselves under
+the shadow of the awful Presidential Presence, all listening to that
+preaching, which was, as Cotton Mather says, “as a very lovely song of
+one that hath a pleasant voice”; and as the holy pastor utters those
+blessed words, which are not of any one church or age, but of all time,
+the humble place of worship is filled with their perfume, as the house
+where Mary knelt was filled with the odor of the precious ointment.
+
+--The Master rose, as he finished reading this sentence, and, walking
+to the window, adjusted a curtain which he seemed to find a good deal of
+trouble in getting to hang just as he wanted it.
+
+He came back to his arm-chair, and began reading again
+
+--If men would only open their eyes to the fact which stares them in the
+face from history, and is made clear enough by the slightest glance
+at the condition of mankind, that humanity is of immeasurably greater
+importance than their own or any other particular belief, they would no
+more attempt to make private property of the grace of God than to fence
+in the sunshine for their own special use and enjoyment.
+
+We are all tattoed in our cradles with the beliefs of our tribe; the
+record may seem superficial, but it is indelible. You cannot educate a
+man wholly out of the superstitious fears which were early implanted in
+his imagination; no matter how utterly his reason may reject them, he
+will still feel as the famous woman did about ghosts, Je n'y crois pas,
+mais je les crains,--“I don't believe in them, but I am afraid of them,
+nevertheless.”
+
+--As people grow older they come at length to live so much in memory
+that they often think with a kind of pleasure of losing their dearest
+blessings. Nothing can be so perfect while we possess it as it will seem
+when remembered. The friend we love best may sometimes weary us by his
+presence or vex us by his infirmities. How sweet to think of him as he
+will be to us after we have outlived him ten or a dozen years! Then we
+can recall him in his best moments, bid him stay with us as long as we
+want his company, and send him away when we wish to be alone again. One
+might alter Shenstone's well-known epitaph to suit such a case:--
+
+ Hen! quanto minus est cum to vivo versari
+
+ Quam erit (vel esset) tui mortui reminisse!
+
+ “Alas! how much less the delight of thy living presence
+ Than will (or would) be that of remembering thee when thou hast
+ left us!”
+
+I want to stop here--I the Poet--and put in a few reflections of my own,
+suggested by what I have been giving the reader from the Master's Book,
+and in a similar vein.
+
+--How few things there are that do not change their whole aspect in
+the course of a single generation! The landscape around us is wholly
+different. Even the outlines of the hills that surround us are changed
+by the creeping of the villages with their spires and school-houses
+up their sides. The sky remains the same, and the ocean. A few old
+churchyards look very much as they used to, except, of course, in
+Boston, where the gravestones have been rooted up and planted in rows
+with walks between them, to the utter disgrace and ruin of our most
+venerated cemeteries. The Registry of Deeds and the Probate Office show
+us the same old folios, where we can read our grandfather's title to his
+estate (if we had a grandfather and he happened to own anything) and see
+how many pots and kettles there were in his kitchen by the inventory of
+his personal property.
+
+Among living people none remain so long unchanged as the actors. I can
+see the same Othello to-day, if I choose, that when I was a boy I saw
+smothering Mrs. Duff-Desdemona with the pillow, under the instigations
+of Mr. Cooper-Iago. A few stone heavier than he was then, no doubt,
+but the same truculent blackamoor that took by the thr-r-r-oat the
+circumcised dog in Aleppo, and told us about it in the old Boston
+Theatre. In the course of a fortnight, if I care to cross the water, I
+can see Mademoiselle Dejazet in the same parts I saw her in under Louis
+Philippe, and be charmed by the same grace and vivacity which delighted
+my grandmother (if she was in Paris, and went to see her in the part of
+Fanchon toute seule at the Theatre des Capucines) in the days when the
+great Napoleon was still only First Consul.
+
+The graveyard and the stage are pretty much the only places where you
+can expect to find your friends--as you left them, five and twenty or
+fifty years ago. I have noticed, I may add, that old theatre-goers bring
+back the past with their stories more vividly than men with any other
+experiences. There were two old New-Yorkers that I used to love to sit
+talking with about the stage. One was a scholar and a writer of note; a
+pleasant old gentleman, with the fresh cheek of an octogenarian Cupid.
+The other not less noted in his way, deep in local lore, large-brained,
+full-blooded, of somewhat perturbing and tumultuous presence. It was
+good to hear them talk of George Frederic Cooke, of Kean, and the lesser
+stars of those earlier constellations. Better still to breakfast with
+old Samuel Rogers, as some of my readers have done more than once, and
+hear him answer to the question who was the best actor he remembered, “I
+think, on the whole, Garrick.”
+
+If we did but know how to question these charming old people before
+it is too late! About ten years, more or less, after the generation
+in advance of our own has all died off, it occurs to us all at once,
+“There! I can ask my old friend what he knows of that picture, which
+must be a Copley; of that house and its legends about which there is
+such a mystery. He (or she) must know all about that.” Too late! Too
+late!
+
+Still, now and then one saves a reminiscence that means a good deal
+by means of a casual question. I asked the first of those two old
+New-Yorkers the following question: “Who, on the whole, seemed to you
+the most considerable person you ever met?”
+
+Now it must be remembered that this was a man who had lived in a city
+that calls itself the metropolis, one who had been a member of the
+State and the National Legislature, who had come in contact with men
+of letters and men of business, with politicians and members of all the
+professions, during a long and distinguished public career. I paused
+for his answer with no little curiosity. Would it be one of the great
+Ex-Presidents whose names were known to, all the world? Would it be
+the silver-tongued orator of Kentucky or the “God-like” champion of the
+Constitution, our New-England Jupiter Capitolinus? Who would it be?
+
+“Take it altogether,” he answered, very deliberately, “I should say
+Colonel Elisha Williams was the most notable personage that I have met
+with.”
+
+--Colonel Elisha Williams! And who might he be, forsooth? A gentleman of
+singular distinction, you may be well assured, even though you are
+not familiar with his name; but as I am not writing a biographical
+dictionary, I shall leave it to my reader to find out who and what he
+was.
+
+--One would like to live long enough to witness certain things which
+will no doubt come to pass by and by. I remember that when one of our
+good kindhearted old millionnaires was growing very infirm, his limbs
+failing him, and his trunk getting packed with the infirmities which
+mean that one is bound on a long journey, he said very simply and
+sweetly, “I don't care about living a great deal longer, but I should
+like to live long enough to find out how much old (a many-millioned
+fellow-citizen) is worth.” And without committing myself on the
+longevity-question, I confess I should like to live long enough to see a
+few things happen that are like to come, sooner or later.
+
+I want to hold the skull of Abraham in my hand. They will go through
+the cave of Machpelah at Hebron, I feel sure, in the course of a few
+generations at the furthest, and as Dr. Robinson knows of nothing
+which should lead us to question the correctness of the tradition
+which regards this as the place of sepulture of Abraham and the other
+patriarchs, there is no reason why we may not find his mummied body in
+perfect preservation, if he was embalmed after the Egyptian fashion. I
+suppose the tomb of David will be explored by a commission in due time,
+and I should like to see the phrenological developments of that great
+king and divine singer and warm-blooded man. If, as seems probable, the
+anthropological section of society manages to get round the curse that
+protects the bones of Shakespeare, I should like to see the dome which
+rounded itself over his imperial brain. Not that I am what is called a
+phrenologist, but I am curious as to the physical developments of these
+fellow-mortals of mine, and a little in want of a sensation.
+
+I should like to live long enough to see the course of the Tiber turned,
+and the bottom of the river thoroughly dredged. I wonder if they would
+find the seven-branched golden candlestick brought from Jerusalem by
+Titus, and said to have been dropped from the Milvian bridge. I
+have often thought of going fishing for it some year when I wanted
+a vacation, as some of my friends used to go to Ireland to fish for
+salmon. There was an attempt of that kind, I think, a few years ago.
+
+We all know how it looks well enough, from the figure of it on the Arch
+of Titus, but I should like to “heft” it in my own hand, and carry it
+home and shine it up (excuse my colloquialisms), and sit down and look
+at it, and think and think and think until the Temple of Solomon
+built up its walls of hewn stone and its roofs of cedar around me as
+noiselessly as when it rose, and “there was neither hammer nor axe nor
+any tool of iron heard in the house while it was in building.”
+
+All this, you will remember, Beloved, is a digression on my own account,
+and I return to the old Master whom I left smiling at his own alteration
+of Shenstone's celebrated inscription. He now begin reading again:
+
+--I want it to be understood that I consider that a certain number
+of persons are at liberty to dislike me peremptorily, without showing
+cause, and that they give no offence whatever in so doing.
+
+If I did not cheerfully acquiesce in this sentiment towards myself
+on the part of others, I should not feel at liberty to indulge my
+own aversions. I try to cultivate a Christian feeling to all my
+fellow-creatures, but inasmuch as I must also respect truth and honesty,
+I confess to myself a certain number of inalienable dislikes and
+prejudices, some of which may possibly be shared by others. Some of
+these are purely instinctive, for others I can assign a reason. Our
+likes and dislikes play so important a part in the Order of Things that
+it is well to see on what they are founded.
+
+There are persons I meet occasionally who are too intelligent by half
+for my liking. They know my thoughts beforehand, and tell me what I was
+going to say. Of course they are masters of all my knowledge, and a
+good deal besides; have read all the books I have read, and in later
+editions; have had all the experiences I have been through, and
+more-too. In my private opinion every mother's son of them will lie at
+any time rather than confess ignorance.
+
+--I have a kind of dread, rather than hatred, of persons with a large
+excess of vitality; great feeders, great laughers, great story-tellers,
+who come sweeping over their company with a huge tidal wave of animal
+spirits and boisterous merriment. I have pretty good spirits myself, and
+enjoy a little mild pleasantry, but I am oppressed and extinguished by
+these great lusty, noisy creatures,--and feel as if I were a mute at a
+funeral when they get into full blast.
+
+--I cannot get along much better with those drooping, languid people,
+whose vitality falls short as much as that of the others is in excess. I
+have not life enough for two; I wish I had. It is not very enlivening
+to meet a fellow-creature whose expression and accents say, “You are the
+hair that breaks the camel's back of my endurance, you are the last drop
+that makes my cup of woe run over”; persons whose heads drop on one side
+like those of toothless infants, whose voices recall the tones in which
+our old snuffling choir used to wail out the verses of:
+
+ “Life is the time to serve the Lord.”
+
+--There is another style which does not captivate me. I recognize an
+attempt at the grand manner now and then, in persons who are well enough
+in their way, but of no particular importance, socially or otherwise.
+Some family tradition of wealth or distinction is apt to be at the
+bottom of it, and it survives all the advantages that used to set
+it off. I like family pride as well as my neighbors, and respect the
+high-born fellow-citizen whose progenitors have not worked in their
+shirt-sleeves for the last two generations full as much as I ought
+to. But grand pere oblige; a person with a known grandfather is too
+distinguished to find it necessary to put on airs. The few Royal Princes
+I have happened to know were very easy people to get along with, and
+had not half the social knee-action I have often seen in the collapsed
+dowagers who lifted their eyebrows at me in my earlier years.
+
+--My heart does not warm as it should do towards the persons, not
+intimates, who are always too glad to see me when we meet by accident,
+and discover all at once that they have a vast deal to unbosom
+themselves of to me.
+
+--There is one blameless person whom I cannot love and have no excuse
+for hating. It is the innocent fellow-creature, otherwise inoffensive
+to me, whom I find I have involuntarily joined on turning a corner. I
+suppose the Mississippi, which was flowing quietly along, minding its
+own business, hates the Missouri for coming into it all at once with
+its muddy stream. I suppose the Missouri in like manner hates the
+Mississippi for diluting with its limpid, but insipid current the rich
+reminiscences of the varied soils through which its own stream has
+wandered. I will not compare myself, to the clear or the turbid current,
+but I will own that my heart sinks when I find all of a sudden I am in
+for a corner confluence, and I cease loving my neighbor as myself until
+I can get away from him.
+
+--These antipathies are at least weaknesses; they may be sins in the eye
+of the Recording Angel. I often reproach myself with my wrong-doings. I
+should like sometimes to thank Heaven for saving me from some kinds of
+transgression, and even for granting me some qualities that if I dared I
+should be disposed to call virtues. I should do so, I suppose, if I did
+not remember the story of the Pharisee. That ought not to hinder me. The
+parable was told to illustrate a single virtue, humility, and the most
+unwarranted inferences have been drawn from it as to the whole character
+of the two parties. It seems not at all unlikely, but rather probable,
+that the Pharisee was a fairer dealer, a better husband, and a more
+charitable person than the Publican, whose name has come down to us
+“linked with one virtue,” but who may have been guilty, for aught that
+appears to the contrary, of “a thousand crimes.” Remember how we limit
+the application of other parables. The lord, it will be recollected,
+commended the unjust steward because he had done wisely. His shrewdness
+was held up as an example, but after all he was a miserable swindler,
+and deserved the state-prison as much as many of our financial
+operators. The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican is a perpetual
+warning against spiritual pride. But it must not frighten any one of us
+out of being thankful that he is not, like this or that neighbor,
+under bondage to strong drink or opium, that he is not an Erie-Railroad
+Manager, and that his head rests in virtuous calm on his own pillow. If
+he prays in the morning to be kept out of temptation as well as for his
+daily bread, shall he not return thanks at night that he has not fallen
+into sin as well as that his stomach has been filled? I do not think the
+poor Pharisee has ever had fair play, and I am afraid a good many people
+sin with the comforting, half-latent intention of smiting their breasts
+afterwards and repeating the prayer of the Publican.
+
+ (Sensation.)
+
+This little movement which I have thus indicated seemed to give the
+Master new confidence in his audience. He turned over several pages
+until he came to a part of the interleaved volume where we could all
+see he had written in a passage of new matter in red ink as of special
+interest.
+
+--I told you, he said, in Latin, and I repeat it in English, that I have
+freed my soul in these pages,--I have spoken my mind. I have read you a
+few extracts, most of them of rather slight texture, and some of them,
+you perhaps thought, whimsical. But I meant, if I thought you were in
+the right mood for listening to it, to read you some paragraphs which
+give in small compass the pith, the marrow, of all that my experience
+has taught me. Life is a fatal complaint, and an eminently contagious
+one. I took it early, as we all do, and have treated it all along with
+the best palliatives I could get hold of, inasmuch as I could find
+no radical cure for its evils, and have so far managed to keep pretty
+comfortable under it.
+
+It is a great thing for a man to put the whole meaning of his life into
+a few paragraphs, if he does it so that others can make anything out of
+it. If he conveys his wisdom after the fashion of the old alchemists, he
+may as well let it alone. He must talk in very plain words, and that is
+what I have done. You want to know what a certain number of scores of
+years have taught me that I think best worth telling. If I had half a
+dozen square inches of paper, and one penful of ink, and five minutes to
+use them in for the instruction of those who come after me, what should
+I put down in writing? That is the question.
+
+Perhaps I should be wiser if I refused to attempt any such brief
+statement of the most valuable lesson that life has taught me. I am by
+no means sure that I had not better draw my pen through the page that
+holds the quintessence of my vital experiences, and leave those who wish
+to know what it is to distil to themselves from my many printed pages.
+But I have excited your curiosity, and I see that you are impatient to
+hear what the wisdom, or the folly, it may be, of a life shows for, when
+it is crowded into a few lines as the fragrance of a gardenful of roses
+is concentrated in a few drops of perfume.
+
+--By this time I confess I was myself a little excited. What was he
+going to tell us? The Young Astronomer looked upon him with an eye as
+clear and steady and brilliant as the evening star, but I could see that
+he too was a little nervous, wondering what would come next.
+
+The old Master adjusted his large round spectacles, and began:
+
+--It has cost me fifty years to find my place in the Order of Things. I
+had explored all the sciences; I had studied the literature of all ages;
+I had travelled in many lands; I had learned how to follow the working
+of thought in men and of sentiment and instinct in women. I had
+examined for myself all the religions that could make out any claim for
+themselves. I had fasted and prayed with the monks of a lonely convent;
+I had mingled with the crowds that shouted glory at camp-meetings; I had
+listened to the threats of Calvinists and the promises of Universalists;
+I had been a devout attendant on a Jewish Synagogue; I was in
+correspondence with an intelligent Buddhist; and I met frequently with
+the inner circle of Rationalists, who believed in the persistence of
+Force, and the identity of alimentary substances with virtue, and were
+reconstructing the universe on this basis, with absolute exclusion of
+all Supernumeraries. In these pursuits I had passed the larger part of
+my half-century of existence, as yet with little satisfaction. It was
+on the morning of my fiftieth birthday that the solution of the great
+problem I had sought so long came to me as a simple formula, with a few
+grand but obvious inferences. I will repeat the substance of this final
+intuition:
+
+The one central fact an the Order of Things which solves all questions
+is:
+
+At this moment we were interrupted by a knock at the Master's door. It
+was most inopportune, for he was on the point of the great disclosure,
+but common politeness compelled him to answer it, and as the step which
+we had heard was that of one of the softer-footed sex, he chose to rise
+from his chair and admit his visitor.
+
+This visitor was our Landlady. She was dressed with more than usual
+nicety, and her countenance showed clearly that she came charged with an
+important communication.
+
+--I did n't low there was company with you, said the Landlady,--but it's
+jest as well. I've got something to tell my boarders that I don't want
+to tell them, and if I must do it, I may as well tell you all at once
+as one to a time. I 'm agoing to give up keeping boarders at the end of
+this year,--I mean come the end of December.
+
+She took out a white handkerchief, at hand in expectation of what was
+to happen, and pressed it to her eyes. There was an interval of
+silence. The Master closed his book and laid it on the table. The Young
+Astronomer did not look as much surprised as I should have expected. I
+was completely taken aback,--I had not thought of such a sudden breaking
+up of our little circle.
+
+When the Landlady had recovered her composure, she began again:
+
+The Lady that's been so long with me is going to a house of her own,
+--one she has bought back again, for it used to belong to her folks.
+It's a beautiful house, and the sun shines in at the front windows all
+day long. She's going to be wealthy again, but it doos n't make any
+difference in her ways. I've had boarders complain when I was doing as
+well as I knowed how for them, but I never heerd a word from her that
+wasn't as pleasant as if she'd been talking to the Governor's lady. I've
+knowed what it was to have women-boarders that find fault,--there's
+some of 'em would quarrel with me and everybody at my table; they would
+quarrel with the Angel Gabriel if he lived in the house with 'em, and
+scold at him and tell him he was always dropping his feathers round, if
+they could n't find anything else to bring up against him.
+
+Two other boarders of mine has given me notice that they was expecting
+to leave come the first of January. I could fill up their places easy
+enough, for ever since that first book was wrote that called people's
+attention to my boarding-house, I've had more wanting to come than I
+wanted to keep.
+
+But I'm getting along in life, and I ain't quite so rugged as I used
+to be. My daughter is well settled and my son is making his own living.
+I've done a good deal of hard work in my time, and I feel as if I had a
+right to a little rest. There's nobody knows what a woman that has the
+charge of a family goes through, but God Almighty that made her. I've
+done my best for them that I loved, and for them that was under my roof.
+My husband and my children was well cared for when they lived, and he
+and them little ones that I buried has white marble head-stones and
+foot-stones, and an iron fence round the lot, and a place left for me
+betwixt him and the....
+
+Some has always been good to me,--some has made it a little of a strain
+to me to get along. When a woman's back aches with overworking herself
+to keep her house in shape, and a dozen mouths are opening at her three
+times a day, like them little young birds that split their heads open
+so you can a'most see into their empty stomachs, and one wants this and
+another wants that, and provisions is dear and rent is high, and nobody
+to look to,--then a sharp word cuts, I tell you, and a hard look goes
+right to your heart. I've seen a boarder make a face at what I set
+before him, when I had tried to suit him jest as well as I knew how, and
+I haven't cared to eat a thing myself all the rest of that day, and I've
+laid awake without a wink of sleep all night. And then when you come
+down the next morning all the boarders stare at you and wonder what
+makes you so low-spirited, and why you don't look as happy and talk
+as cheerful as one of them rich ladies that has dinner-parties, where
+they've nothing to do but give a few orders, and somebody comes and
+cooks their dinner, and somebody else comes and puts flowers on the
+table, and a lot of men dressed up like ministers come and wait on
+everybody, as attentive as undertakers at a funeral.
+
+And that reminds me to tell you that I'm agoing to live with my
+daughter. Her husband's a very nice man, and when he isn't following a
+corpse, he's as good company as if he was a member of the city council.
+My son, he's agoing into business with the old Doctor he studied with,
+and he's agoing to board with me at my daughter's for a while,--I
+suppose he'll be getting a wife before long. [This with a pointed look
+at our young friend, the Astronomer.]
+
+It is n't but a little while longer that we are going to be together,
+and I want to say to you gentlemen, as I mean to say to the others and
+as I have said to our two ladies, that I feel more obligated to, you for
+the way you 've treated me than I know very well how to put into words.
+Boarders sometimes expect too much of the ladies that provides for them.
+Some days the meals are better than other days; it can't help being so.
+Sometimes the provision-market is n't well supplied, sometimes the
+fire in the cooking-stove does n't burn so well as it does other
+days; sometimes the cook is n't so lucky as she might be. And there is
+boarders who is always laying in wait for the days when the meals is not
+quite so good as they commonly be, to pick a quarrel with the one that
+is trying to serve them so as that they shall be satisfied. But you've
+all been good and kind to me. I suppose I'm not quite so spry and
+quick-sighted as I was a dozen years ago, when my boarder wrote that
+first book so many have asked me about. But--now I'm going to stop
+taking boarders. I don't believe you'll think much about what I did n't
+do,--because I couldn't,--but remember that at any rate I tried honestly
+to serve you. I hope God will bless all that set at my table, old and
+young, rich and poor, merried and single, and single that hopes soon to
+be merried. My husband that's dead and gone always believed that we all
+get to heaven sooner or later,--and sence I've grown older and buried so
+many that I've loved I've come to feel that perhaps I should meet all of
+them that I've known here--or at least as many of 'em as I wanted
+to--in a better world. And though I don't calculate there is any
+boarding-houses in heaven, I hope I shall some time or other meet them
+that has set round my table one year after another, all together, where
+there is no fault-finding with the food and no occasion for it,--and if
+I do meet them and you there--or anywhere,--if there is anything I can
+do for you....
+
+.... Poor dear soul! Her ideas had got a little mixed, and her heart was
+overflowing, and the white handkerchief closed the scene with its timely
+and greatly needed service.
+
+--What a pity, I have often thought, that she came in just at that
+precise moment! For the old Master was on the point of telling us, and
+through one of us the reading world,--I mean that fraction of it which
+has reached this point of the record,--at any rate, of telling you,
+Beloved, through my pen, his solution of a great problem we all have to
+deal with. We were some weeks longer together, but he never offered to
+continue his reading. At length I ventured to give him a hint that our
+young friend and myself would both of us be greatly gratified if he
+would begin reading from his unpublished page where he had left off.
+
+--No, sir,--he said,--better not, better not. That which means so much
+to me, the writer, might be a disappointment, or at least a puzzle, to
+you, the listener. Besides, if you'll take my printed book and be at
+the trouble of thinking over what it says, and put that with what you've
+heard me say, and then make those comments and reflections which will
+be suggested to a mind in so many respects like mine as is your
+own,--excuse my good opinion of myself.
+
+(It is a high compliment to me, I replied) you will perhaps find you
+have the elements of the formula and its consequences which I was about
+to read you. It's quite as well to crack your own filberts as to borrow
+the use of other people's teeth. I think we will wait awhile before we
+pour out the Elixir Vitae.
+
+--To tell the honest truth, I suspect the Master has found out that his
+formula does not hold water quite so perfectly as he was thinking, so
+long as he kept it to himself, and never thought of imparting it to
+anybody else. The very minute a thought is threatened with publicity
+it seems to shrink towards mediocrity, as I have noticed that a great
+pumpkin, the wonder of a village, seemed to lose at least a third of
+its dimensions between the field where it grew and the cattle-show
+fair-table, where it took its place with other enormous pumpkins from
+other wondering villages. But however that maybe, I shall always regret
+that I had not the opportunity of judging for myself how completely the
+Master's formula, which, for him, at least, seemed to have solved the
+great problem, would have accomplished that desirable end for me.
+
+The Landlady's announcement of her intention to give up keeping boarders
+was heard with regret by all who met around her table. The Member of the
+Haouse inquired of me whether I could tell him if the Lamb Tahvern was
+kept well abaout these times. He knew that members from his place used
+to stop there, but he hadn't heerd much abaout it of late years. I had
+to inform him that that fold of rural innocence had long ceased offering
+its hospitalities to the legislative, flock. He found refuge at last,
+I have learned, in a great public house in the northern section of the
+city, where, as he said, the folks all went up stairs in a rat-trap,
+and the last I heard of him was looking out of his somewhat elevated
+attic-window in a northwesterly direction in hopes that he might perhaps
+get a sight of the Grand Monadnock, a mountain in New Hampshire which I
+have myself seen from the top of Bunker Hill Monument.
+
+The Member of the Haouse seems to have been more in a hurry to find
+a new resting-place than the other boarders. By the first of January,
+however, our whole company was scattered, never to meet again around the
+board where we had been so long together.
+
+The Lady moved to the house where she had passed many of her prosperous
+years. It had been occupied by a rich family who had taken it nearly as
+it stood, and as the pictures had been dusted regularly, and the books
+had never been handled, she found everything in many respects as she had
+left it, and in some points improved, for the rich people did not know
+what else to do, and so they spent money without stint on their house
+and its adornments, by all of which she could not help profiting. I do
+not choose to give the street and number of the house where she lives,
+but a-great many poor people know very well where it is, and as a matter
+of course the rich ones roll up to her door in their carriages by the
+dozen every fine Monday while anybody is in town.
+
+It is whispered that our two young folks are to be married before
+another season, and that the Lady has asked them to come and stay with
+her for a while. Our Scheherezade is to write no more stories. It is
+astonishing to see what a change for the better in her aspect a few
+weeks of brain-rest and heart's ease have wrought in her. I doubt very
+much whether she ever returns to literary labor. The work itself was
+almost heart-breaking, but the effect upon her of the sneers and cynical
+insolences of the literary rough who came at her in mask and brass
+knuckles was to give her what I fear will be a lifelong disgust against
+any writing for the public, especially in any of the periodicals. I am
+not sorry that she should stop writing, but I am sorry that she should
+have been silenced in such a rude way. I doubt, too, whether the Young
+Astronomer will pass the rest of his life in hunting for comets and
+planets. I think he has found an attraction that will call him down from
+the celestial luminaries to a light not less pure and far less remote.
+And I am inclined to believe that the best answer to many of those
+questions which have haunted him and found expression in his verse
+will be reached by a very different channel from that of lonely
+contemplation, the duties, the cares, the responsible realities of a
+life drawn out of itself by the power of newly awakened instincts and
+affections. The double star was prophetic,--I thought it would be.
+
+The Register of Deeds is understood to have been very handsomely treated
+by the boarder who owes her good fortune to his sagacity and activity.
+He has engaged apartments at a very genteel boarding-house not far from
+the one where we have all been living. The Salesman found it a simple
+matter to transfer himself to an establishment over the way; he had very
+little to move, and required very small accommodations.
+
+The Capitalist, however, seems to have felt it impossible to move
+without ridding himself of a part at--least of his encumbrances. The
+community was startled by the announcement that a citizen who did
+not wish his name to be known had made a free gift of a large sum of
+money--it was in tens of thousands--to an institution of long standing
+and high character in the city of which he was a quiet resident.
+The source of such a gift could not long be kept secret. It, was our
+economical, not to say parsimonious Capitalist who had done this noble
+act, and the poor man had to skulk through back streets and keep out of
+sight, as if he were a show character in a travelling caravan, to avoid
+the acknowledgments of his liberality, which met him on every hand and
+put him fairly out of countenance.
+
+That Boy has gone, in virtue of a special invitation, to make a visit of
+indefinite length at the house of the father of the older boy, whom
+we know by the name of Johnny. Of course he is having a good time, for
+Johnny's father is full of fun, and tells first-rate stories, and if
+neither of the boys gets his brains kicked out by the pony, or blows
+himself up with gunpowder, or breaks through the ice and gets drowned,
+they will have a fine time of it this winter.
+
+The Scarabee could not bear to remove his collections, and the old
+Master was equally unwilling to disturb his books. It was arranged,
+therefore, that they should keep their apartments until the new tenant
+should come into the house, when, if they were satisfied with her
+management, they would continue as her boarders.
+
+The last time I saw the Scarabee he was still at work on the meloe
+question. He expressed himself very pleasantly towards all of us, his
+fellow-boarders, and spoke of the kindness and consideration with which
+the Landlady had treated him when he had been straitened at times for
+want of means. Especially he seemed to be interested in our young couple
+who were soon to be united. His tired old eyes glistened as he asked
+about them,--could it be that their little romance recalled some early
+vision of his own? However that may be, he got up presently and went
+to a little box in which, as he said, he kept some choice specimens. He
+brought to me in his hand something which glittered. It was an exquisite
+diamond beetle.
+
+--If you could get that to her,--he said,--they tell me that ladies
+sometimes wear them in their hair. If they are out of fashion, she can
+keep it till after they're married, and then perhaps after a while there
+may be--you know--you know what I mean--there may be larvae, that 's
+what I 'm thinking there may be, and they 'll like to look at it.
+
+--As he got out the word larvae, a faint sense of the ridiculous seemed
+to take hold of the Scarabee, and for the first and only time during my
+acquaintance with him a slight attempt at a smile showed itself on his
+features. It was barely perceptible and gone almost as soon as seen, yet
+I am pleased to put it on record that on one occasion at least in his
+life the Scarabee smiled.
+
+The old Master keeps adding notes and reflections and new suggestions to
+his interleaved volume, but I doubt if he ever gives them to the public.
+The study he has proposed to himself does not grow easier the longer
+it is pursued. The whole Order of Things can hardly be completely
+unravelled in any single person's lifetime, and I suspect he will have
+to adjourn the final stage of his investigations to that more luminous
+realm where the Landlady hopes to rejoin the company of boarders who are
+nevermore to meet around her cheerful and well-ordered table.
+
+The curtain has now fallen, and I show myself a moment before it to
+thank my audience and say farewell. The second comer is commonly less
+welcome than the first, and the third makes but a rash venture. I hope
+I have not wholly disappointed those who have been so kind to my
+predecessors.
+
+To you, Beloved, who have never failed to cut the leaves which hold my
+record, who have never nodded over its pages, who have never hesitated
+in your allegiance, who have greeted me with unfailing smiles and part
+from me with unfeigned regrets, to you I look my last adieu as I bow
+myself out of sight, trusting my poor efforts to your always kind
+remembrance.
+
+ EPILOGUE TO THE BREAKFAST-TABLE SERIES
+
+ AUTOCRAT--PROFESSOR--POET.
+
+ AT A BOOKSTORE.
+
+ Anno Domini 1972.
+
+ A crazy bookcase, placed before
+ A low-price dealer's open door;
+ Therein arrayed in broken rows
+ A ragged crew of rhyme and prose,
+ The homeless vagrants, waifs and strays
+ Whose low estate this line betrays
+ (Set forth the lesser birds to lime)
+ YOUR CHOICE AMONG THESE BOOKS, 1 DIME!
+
+ Ho! dealer; for its motto's sake
+ This scarecrow from the shelf I take;
+ Three starveling volumes bound in one,
+ Its covers warping in the sun.
+ Methinks it hath a musty smell,
+ I like its flavor none too well,
+ But Yorick's brain was far from dull,
+ Though Hamlet pah!'d, and dropped his skull.
+
+ Why, here comes rain! The sky grows dark,
+ --Was that the roll of thunder? Hark!
+ The shop affords a safe retreat,
+ A chair extends its welcome seat,
+ The tradesman has a civil look
+ (I've paid, impromptu, for my book),
+ The clouds portend a sudden shower,
+ I'll read my purchase for an hour.
+
+ ..............
+
+ What have I rescued from the shelf?
+ A Boswell, writing out himself!
+ For though he changes dress and name,
+ The man beneath is still the same,
+ Laughing or sad, by fits and starts,
+ One actor in a dozen parts,
+ And whatsoe'er the mask may be,
+ The voice assures us, This is he.
+
+ I say not this to cry him clown;
+ I find my Shakespeare in his clown,
+ His rogues the self-same parent own;
+ Nay! Satan talks in Milton's tone!
+ Where'er the ocean inlet strays,
+ The salt sea wave its source betrays,
+ Where'er the queen of summer blows,
+ She tells the zephyr, “I'm the rose!”
+
+ And his is not the playwright's page;
+ His table does not ape the stage;
+ What matter if the figures seen
+ Are only shadows on a screen,
+ He finds in them his lurking thought,
+ And on their lips the words he sought,
+ Like one who sits before the keys
+ And plays a tune himself to please.
+
+ And was he noted in his day?
+ Read, flattered, honored? Who shall say?
+ Poor wreck of time the wave has cast
+ To find a peaceful shore at last,
+ Once glorying in thy gilded name
+ And freighted deep with hopes of fame,
+ Thy leaf is moistened with a tear,
+ The first for many a long, long year!
+
+ For be it more or less of art
+ That veils the lowliest human heart
+ Where passion throbs, where friendship glows,
+ Where pity's tender tribute flows,
+ Where love has lit its fragrant fire,
+ And sorrow quenched its vain desire,
+ For me the altar is divine,
+ Its flame, its ashes,--all are mine!
+
+ And thou, my brother, as I look
+ And see thee pictured in thy book,
+ Thy years on every page confessed
+ In shadows lengthening from the west,
+ Thy glance that wanders, as it sought
+ Some freshly opening flower of thought,
+ Thy hopeful nature, light and free,
+ I start to find myself in thee!
+
+ Come, vagrant, outcast, wretch forlorn
+ In leather jerkin stained and torn,
+ Whose talk has filled my idle hour
+ And made me half forget the shower,
+ I'll do at least as much for you,
+ Your coat I'll patch, your gilt renew,
+ Read you,--perhaps,--some other time.
+ Not bad, my bargain! Price one dime!
+ Not bad, my bargain! Price one dime!
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poet at the Breakfast Table
+by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
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