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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29187-8.txt b/29187-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f2abae --- /dev/null +++ b/29187-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8901 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 January +1848, by Various + +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: Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 January 1848 + +Author: Various + +Editor: George R. Graham + Robert T. Conrad + +Release Date: June 21, 2009 [EBook #29187] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE VOL XXXII *** + + + + +Produced by David T. Jones, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + + +GRAHAM'S + +AMERICAN MONTHLY + +MAGAZINE + + +Of Literature and Art, + +EMBELLISHED WITH + +MEZZOTINT AND STEEL ENGRAVINGS, MUSIC, ETC. + +WILLIAM C. BRYANT, J. FENIMORE COOPER, RICHARD H. DANA, JAMES K. PAULDING, +HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, N. P. WILLIS, CHARLES F. HOFFMAN, J. R. LOWELL. + +MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, MISS C. M. SEDGWICK, MRS. FRANCES S. OSGOOD, +MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY, MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS, MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY, +MRS. A. M. F. ANNAN, ETC. + +PRINCIPAL CONTRIBUTORS. + +GEORGE R. GRAHAM, AND ROBERT T. CONRAD, EDITORS. + + +VOLUME XXXII. + + +PHILADELPHIA: +GEORGE R. GRAHAM & CO. 98 CHESTNUT STREET. + * * * * * +1848. + + + +CONTENTS + +OF THE + +THIRTY-SECOND VOLUME. + +JANUARY, 1848, TO JUNE, 1848. + + * * * * * + +A Drama of Real Life. By N. P. WILLIS, 61 + +Autumnal Scenery. By JOSEPH R. CHANDLER, 64 + +Biographical Sketch of Gen. Wm. O. Butler. By FRANCIS P. BLAIR, 49 + +Battle of Fort Moultrie. By C. J. PETERSON, 198 + +Clara Harland. By G. G. FOSTER. (Illustrated.) 241 + +Cincinnati. By FAYETTE ROBINSON, 352 + +Captain Samuel Walker. By FAYETTE ROBINSON, (With an Engraving.) 301 + +Dissolving Views. By F. E. F. 172 + +Effie Morris. By ENNA DUVAL, 87 + +First Love. By ENNA DUVAL, 282 + +Game-Birds of America. By PROF. FROST, 68 + +Game-Birds of America. By PROF. FROST, 185 + +Home. By Mrs. H. MARION WARD, 129 + +Jacob Jones. By T. S. ARTHUR, 193 + +Jehoiakim Johnson. By MARY SPENCER PEASE, 313 + +Lace and Diamonds. By THEODORE S. FAY, 1 + +Le Petit Soulier. By IK. MARVEL, 165 + +Marginalia. By EDGAR A. POE, 23 + +Mathew Mizzle. By JOSEPH C. NEAL, 57 + +Montezuma Moggs. By JOSEPH C. NEAL, 116 + +Marginalia. By EDGAR A. POE, 130 + +Mrs. Pelby Smith's Select Party. By Mrs. A. M. F. ANNAN, 152 + +Marginalia. By EDGAR A. POE, 178 + +My Lady-Help. By ENNA DUVAL, 180 + +Mary Warner. By Mrs. E. L. B. COWDERY, 201 + +Major-General Worth. By FAYETTE ROBINSON, 275 + +Power of Beauty, and a Plain Man's Love. By N. P. WILLIS, 99 + +Pauline Dumesnil. By ANGELE DE V. HULL, 121 + +Pauline Grey. By F. E. F. 229, 265 + +Phantasmagoria. By JOHN NEAL, 26O + +Phantoms All. By CAROLINE H. BUTLER, 304 + +Poor Penn--. By OLIVER BUCKLEY, 309 + +Stoke Church and Park. By R. BALMANNO, 73 + +The Rival Sisters. By HENRY W. HERBERT, 13, 105 + +The Little Gold-Fish. By J. K. PAULDING, 31 + +The Teacher Taught. By MARY S. ADAMS, 39 + +The Islets of the Gulf. By J. F. COOPER, 42, 93, 159 + +The Cruise of the Gentile. By FRANK BYRNE, 133, 205 + +The Little Cap-Maker. By Mrs. C. H. BUTLER, 221 + +The Portrait of General Scott. 234 + +Theresa. By JANE TAYLOE WORTHINGTON, 247 + +The Changed and the Unchanged. By PROFESSOR ALDEN, 277 + +The New England Factory Girl. By Mrs. JOSEPH C. NEAL, 287, 343 + +The Lone Buffalo. By CHARLES LANMAN, 294 + +The Fortunes of a Southern Family. By A NEW CONTRIBUTOR, 325 + +The Double Transformation. By JAMES K. PAULDING, 350 + +Whortleberrying. By ALFRED B. STREET, 270 + + +POETRY. + +A Funeral Thought. By J. BAYARD TAYLOR, 10 + +An Hour. By J. BAYARD TAYLOR, 98 + +A Butterfly in the City. By THOMAS BUCHANAN READ 104 + +A Parting. By HENRY S. HAGERT, 238 + +A Vision. By R. H. STODDART, 286 + +A Song. By THOMAS BUCHANAN READ, 311 + +Burial of a Volunteer. By PARK BENJAMIN, 128 + +Beauty's Bath. (Illustrated.) 131 + +Contemplation. By JANE R. DANA. (Illustrated.) 190 + +City Life. By CHARLES W. BAIRD, 204 + +Coriolanus. By HENRY B. HIRST, 319 + +Cleopatra. By ELIZABETH J. EAMES, 363 + +Decay and Rome. By R. H. STODDART, 220 + +Elsie. By KATE DASHWOOD, 67 + +Early English Poets. By ELIZABETH J. EAMES, 92 + +Early English Poets. By ELIZABETH J. EAMES, 171 + +Epitaph on a Restless Lady, 179 + +Expectation. By LOUISA M. GREEN, 187 + +Eurydice. By FRANCES S. OSGOOD, 274 + +Encouragement. By Mrs. E. C. KINNEY, 276 + +Fair Margaret. By Wm. H. C. HOSMER, 293 + +Homeward Bound. By E. CURTISS HINE, 308 + +Isola. By JOHN TOMLIN, 190 + +Lenovar. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS, 218 + +Lines to ---- By CAROLINE F. ORNE, 63 + +Love. By R. H. STODDARD, 131 + +Lines to an Ideal. By ELIZABETH L. LINSLEY, 151 + +Lethe. By HENRY B. HIRST, 179 + +Lines. By GRETTA, 184 + +Lennard. By Mrs. MARY G. HORSFORD, 320 + +Lamartine to Madame Jorelle. By VIRGINIA 303 + +Lines to ----, By W. HORRY STILWELL, 349 + +Midnight. By THOMAS BUCHANAN READ, 286 + +No, Not Forgotten. By EARLE S. GOODRICH, 228 + +O, Scorn Not Thy Brother. By E. CURTISS HINE, 235 + +Poetry. A Song. By GEORGE P. MORRISS, 66 + +Revolution. By ARIAN, 292 + +Spirit-Yearnings for Love. By Mrs. H. MARION WARD, 12 + +Sonnet to Graham. By ALTUS, 22 + +Sonnet to S. D. A. By "THE SQUIRE," 48 + +Shawangunk Mountain. By A. B. STREET, 59 + +Sonnet to ----. By CAROLINE F. ORNE, 67 + +Sunset After Rain. By ALFRED B. STREET, 115 + +Sonnet to Night. By GRETTA, 120 + +Spirit-Voices. By CHARLES W. BAIRD, 158 + +Song of the Elves. By ANNA BLACKWELL, 203 + +Song for a Sabbath Morning. By T. B. READ, 204 + +Sonnets. By JAMES LAWSON, 259 + +Sonnet. By C. E. T. 269 + +Sonnet. By Mrs. E. C. KINNEY, 281 + +Stanzas. By W. H. DENNY, 293 + +Song. By C. E. T. 342 + +The Memorial Tree. By W. GILMORE SIMMS, 11 + +The Rainbow. By Mrs. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, 12 + +The Penance of Roland. By HENRY B. HIRST, 25 + +The Sea-Nymphs Song. By W. H. C. HOSMER, 30 + +The Vesper Bell. By PARK BENJAMIN, 38 + +The Sunbeam. By MARY E. LEE, 41 + +The Land of Dreams. By WM. C. BRYANT, 48 + +The Mourner. By Dr. JOHN D. GODMAN, 67 + +The Saw-Mill. By WM. C. BRYANT, 86 + +The Portrait. By R. T. CONRAD. (Illustrated.) 92 + +The Lost Pleiad. By HENRY B. HIRST, 115 + +The Bride's Confession. By ALICE G. LEE, 120 + +The Hermit of Niagara. By Mrs. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, 127 + +The Bridal Morning. (Illustrated.) 128 + +The Alchemist's Daughter. By T. B. READ, 148 + +The Belle. By MARY L. LAWSON, 164 + +The Voice of the Fire. By J. B. TAYLOR, 177 + +Triumphs of Peace. By WM. H. C. HOSMER, 187 + +To My Wife. By ROBT. T. CONRAD, 190 + +The Darling. By BLANCHE BENNAIRDE, 197 + +The Poet's Love. By HENRY B. HIRST, 200 + +To the Author of "The Raven." By MISS HARRIET B. WINSLOW, 203 + +The Fire of Drift-Wood. By HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, 204 + +The Last of His Race. By S. DRYDEN PHELPS, 220 + +The Sailor-Lover to His Mistress. By R. H. BACON, 233 + +The Spirit of Song. By Mrs. E. C. KINNEY, 238 + +The Ancient and the Modern Muse. By LYMAN LONG, 246 + +The Oak-Tree. By PARK BENJAMIN, 264 + +The Voice of the Night Wind. By E. CURTISS HINE, 274 + +The Dayspring. By SAMUEL D. PATTERSON, 281 + +The Adopted Child. By Mrs. FRANCES B. M. BROTHERSON, 295 + +The Pole's Farewell. By WM. H. C. HOSMER, 324 + +The Real and the Ideal. By MARION H. RAND, 341 + +The Human Voice. By GEO. P. MORRIS, 341 + +The Enchanted Isle. By LYDIA J. PEIRSON, 311 + +The Continents. By J. BAYARD TAYLOR, 312 + +Venice as It Was and as It Is. By PROFESSOR GOODRICH, 342 + +White Creek. By ALFRED B. STREET, 147 + +Years Ago. By GEORGE P. MORRIS, 190 + + +REVIEWS. + + +The Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck, 70 + +The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, 71 + +The Life of Henry the Fourth, King of France +and Navarre. By G. P. R James, 72 + +Artist Life. By H. T. Tuckerman, 72 + +Poems of Early and After Years. By N. P. Willis, 132 + +Practical Physiology. By Edward Jarvis, 191 + +The Fruits and Fruit Trees of America. By A. J. DOWNING, 191 + +Historical and Select Memoirs of the Empress +Josephine. By M'lle. M. A. Le Normand, 239 + +Memoir of Sarah B. Judson. By "Fanny Forester," 240 + +The History of a Penitent. By George W. Bethune, D. D. 240 + +Keble's Christian Year, 240 + +Edith Kinnaird. By the Author of "The Maiden Aunt," 298 + +Jane Eyre. An Autobiography, 299 + +The Princess. By Alfred Tennyson, 300 + +The Origin, Progress and Conclusion of the +Florida War. By John T. Sprague, 300 + +The Poetical Works of John Milton, 300 + +An Universal History of the Most Remarkable Events of All +Nations, from the Earliest Period to the Present Time, 354 + +Lectures on Shakspeare. By H. N. Hudson, 354 + +Military Heroes of the Revolution. By C. J. Peterson, 356 + +Old Hicks, the Guide. By C. W. Webber, 356 + + +MUSIC. + + +Woman's Love. Poetry by Anon. Music by Mathias Keller, 188 + +Ben Bolt. The Words and Melody by Thomas Dunn English, 236 + +When Shall I See the Object that I Love. A +favorite Swiss Air. Music by J. B. Müller, 296 + + +ENGRAVINGS. + + +Innocence, engraved by W. E. Tucker. + +General Butler, engraved by Thomas B. Welsh. + +A Portrait, engraved by Ross. + +Beauty's Bath, engraved by Sartain. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +Bridal Morning, engraved by A. B. Ross. + +Expectation, engraved by J. Addison. + +Contemplation, engraved by Addison. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +Gen. Winfield Scott, engraved by Thos. B. Welsh. + +Pauline Grey, engraved by J. B. Adams. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +General Worth, engraved by Sartain. + +Clara Harland, engraved by Addison. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +Captain Walker, engraved by A. B. Walter. + +Cincinnati, engraved by J. W. Steel. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + + + + +GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE. + +VOL. XXXII. PHILADELPHIA, JANUARY, 1848. No. 1. + + + + +LACE AND DIAMONDS. + +OR TAKE CARE WHAT YOU DO. + +BY THEODORE S. FAY. + + +"Don't be angry, ma'ma--I wont jest any more, if it displease you, but +I will make a plain confession." + +"Well," said Mrs. Clifford, "let me hear it." + +"I have not one feeling which I wish to conceal from you. There have +been moments when I liked Mr. Franklin," and a pretty color crossed +her cheek, "but I have been struck with a peculiarity which has +chilled warmer sentiments. He appears phlegmatic and cold. There is +about him a perpetual repose that seems inconsistent with energy and +feeling. I am not satisfied that I could be happy with such a +person--not certain that he is capable of loving, or of inspiring +love. When I marry any one, he must worship, he must adore me. He must +be ready to go crazy for me. Let him be full of faults, but let him +have--what so few possess--a warm, unselfish heart." + +"I have heard you, through," said Mrs. Clifford, "now you must hear +me. It is very proper that you should not decide without full +consideration. Examine as long as you think necessary the qualities of +Mr. Franklin, and never marry him till he inspire you with confidence +and affection. But remember something is due also to him; and the +divine rule of acting toward others as you wish them to act toward +you, must be applied here, as in every affair in life. While you +should not, I allow, be hurried into a decision, yet your mind once +made up, he should not be kept a moment in suspense." + +"Do you think, ma'ma," asked Caroline, "that he has much feeling?" + +"I think he has. I think him peculiarly gifted with unselfish ardor. +That which appears to you coldness, is, in my opinion, the natural +reserve of a warm heart--so modest that it rather retires from +observation than parades itself before the world. Sentiment and fire, +when common on the lips, are not more likely to be native to the soul. +It is precisely that calm, that repose you allude to, which forms, in +my judgment, the guarantee of Mr. Franklin's sincerity, and the +finishing grace of his character--a character in all other respects, +also, a true and noble one." + +Caroline did not listen without interest. + +Mrs. Clifford was a native of New York, and had come over just a year +ago to enjoy a tour in Europe. Franklin had been a fellow-passenger; +and a sort of intimacy had grown up between the young people, which +the gentleman had taken rather _au serieux_. He had gladly availed +himself of an accidental business necessity which called the son and +proposed traveling companion of Mrs. Clifford suddenly home, to join +her little party, and had accompanied them through Italy, France, +Germany, Belgium, and Holland. The result was, that the happiness of +his life now appeared to depend upon an affirmative monosyllable in +reply to the offer he had just made of his heart and hand. Mrs. +Clifford was the widow of a captain in the American navy, who had left +her only a moderate income--sufficient, but no more, for the wants of +herself and daughter. Mr. Franklin was a lawyer of six-and-twenty, who +had been advised to repair the effects of too severe professional +application, by change of air, and a year's idleness and travel. + +The conversation was scarcely finished, when the subject of it was +announced. + +After the usual salutations, Mr. Franklin said he had come, according +to appointment, to accompany the ladies on a walk, and to see the +lions of London, where they had arrived some days before. In a few +minutes, hats, shawls, and gloves, being duly put in requisition, they +had left their lodgings in Grosvenor Street, Grosvenor Square, and +were wending their way toward Regent Street and the Strand, through +the crowds of this wonderful and magnificent metropolis, of which +every thing was a delightful curiosity, and where, amid the millions +around, they knew and were known by scarcely a human creature. + +Every stranger, newly arrived and walking about London, has noted the +effect of this prodigious town upon him; and how singularly he is lost +in its immensity, overwhelmed by its grandeur, and bewildered amid its +endless multiplicity of attractions. So it was with our little party. +Excited by the thousand novel and dazzling objects, the hours fleeted +away like minutes; and it was late before they had executed or even +formed any plans. + +"Let us at least go somewhere," said Caroline. "Let us go to St. +Paul's, or Westminster Abbey, or the Tower; and we have, beside, +purchases to make--for ladies, you know, Mr. Franklin, have always +shopping to do." + +"Well, as it is so late," said Mrs. Clifford, "and we have promised to +call on Mrs. Porter at half past two, I propose to leave the lions for +another morning, and only enjoy our walk to-day." + +"Then, ma'ma, let us go to that splendid shop, and look at the lace +once more. Only think, Mr. Franklin, we yesterday saw lace, not +broader than this, and I had a half fancy to buy some for a new +dress--and what do you suppose it cost?" + +"I am little versed," said Franklin, "in such mysteries--five pounds, +perhaps--" + +"Twelve pounds--twelve pounds and a half sterling--sixty American +dollars. I never saw any thing so superb. Ma'ma says I ought not even +to look at such a luxury." + +"But is lace really such a luxury?" inquired Franklin, smiling. + +"You can have no idea how exquisite this is!" + +"As for me," rejoined Franklin, "I can never tell whether a lady's +lace is worth twelve pounds or twelve cents. Although, I hope, not +insensible to the general effect of a toilette, yet lace and diamonds, +and all that sort of thing, are lost upon me entirely." + +"Oh, you barbarian!" + +"Real beauty was never heightened by such ornaments, and ugliness is +invariably rendered more conspicuous and ugly." + +"You will not find many ladies," said Mrs. Clifford "to agree with +you." + +"Oh, yes! How often do we hear of belles, as distinguished for the +simplicity of their toilette, as for the beauty of their persons. How +often in real life, and how frequently in novels. There you read that, +while the other ladies are shining in satin and lace, and blazing in +diamonds, the real rose of the evening eclipses them all in a plain +dress of white, without jewels, like some modest flower, unconscious +of her charms, and therefore attracting more attention." + +"Well, I declare," said Mrs. Clifford, smiling, "it is just as you +say!" + +"And what does Miss Caroline think of my attack on lace and diamonds?" + +"Why," said Caroline, laughing, "since you do me the honor to require +my opinion, I will give it you. I agree that such pretending ornaments +ill become the old and ugly. There you are right. I agree that the +extremely beautiful may also dispense with them. These ball-room +belles of yours--these real roses of the evening--are, I suspect, so +lovely as to make them exceptions to the general rule. But there is a +class of young ladies, among whom I place myself, neither so old and +ugly as to make ornament ridiculous, nor so beautiful as to render it +unnecessary. To this middle class, a bit of lace--a neat tab--a string +of pearls here and there--a pretty worked cape--or a coronet of +diamonds, I assure you, do no harm." + +"That you are not so ugly as to render ornament ridiculous," replied +Franklin, "I allow; but that there is, in your case, any want of +lovelines to require--to render--which--" + +"Take care, Mr. Franklin!" interrupted Caroline, mischievously, "you +are steering right upon the rocks; and a gentleman who refuses all +decoration to a lady's toilette, should not embellish his own +conversation with flattery." + +"Upon my word," replied he, in a lower voice, "to whatever class you +belong, Miss Clifford, you do yourself injustice if you suppose lace +and diamonds can add to the power of your beauty, any more than the +greatest splendor of fortune could increase the charms of your--" + +"Ma'ma," exclaimed Caroline, "we have passed the lace shop." + +"So we have," said Mrs. Clifford; "but why should we go back--you +certainly don't mean to buy any--?" + +"No, ma'ma; but I want some edging, and I might as well get it here, +if only to enjoy another look at the forbidden fruit." + +The shop was one of those magnificent establishments of late years +common in large metropolises. A long hall led from the street quite +back through the building, or rather masses of buildings, to another +equally elegant entrance on the parallel street behind. The doors were +single sheets of heavy plate-glass. In the windows all the glittering +and precious treasures of India and Asia seemed draped in gorgeous +confusion, and blazed also through unbroken expanses of limpid glass +of yet larger dimensions than the doors. Silks, laces, Cashmere +shawls, damask, heavy and sumptuous velvets of bright colors, and fit +for a queen's train, muslins of bewildering beauty, dresses at £200 a +piece, and handkerchiefs of Manilla of almost fabulous value. The +interior presented similar displays on all sides, multiplied by +reflections from broad mirrors, gleaming among marble columns. Perhaps +those numerous mirrors were intended to neutralize the somewhat gloomy +effect of the low ceiling, not sufficiently elevated to admit the +necessary light into the central spaces. At various points, even in +the day-time, gas-lights burned brilliantly. Before the door were +drawn up half a dozen elegant coroneted equipages, the well-groomed, +shining horses, and richly-liveried coachmen, indicating the rank of +the noble owners; and on the benches before the windows lounged the +tall and handsome footmen, with their long gold-headed sticks, +powdered heads, gaudy coats, brightcolored plush breeches, and white +silk stockings, and gloves. + +In the shop there were, perhaps, fifty persons, as it happened to be a +remarkably fine day in June--one of those grateful gifts from heaven +to earth which lure people irresistibly out of the dark and weary +home, and which, when first occurring, after a long and dismal winter, +as in the present instance, appear to empty into the sunshiny streets, +every inhabitant, the sick and the well, the lame and the blind alike, +from every house in town. + +Caroline asked to be shown some of the lace which she had looked at +the day before. It was produced, and Mrs. Clifford and Franklin were +called to examine it. The wonder consisted as much in the endless +variety of the patterns, as in the exquisite fineness and richness of +the material. The counter was soon strewn with the airy treasures, one +piece after another, unrolled with rapidity, appeared to make a lively +impression on the young girl, who at last, with a sigh, apologized to +the polite person patiently waiting the end of an examination which +his practiced eye had, doubtless, perceived was only one of vain +curiosity. + +"It is too dear," said Caroline, "I cannot afford it. Pray let me see +some narrow edging." + +"That lace is very pretty," remarked a lady of a commanding figure, +evidently a person of rank. + +"Very pretty, my lady," replied the clerk who had waited on Caroline. + +"What is it?" + +"Twelve and a half, my lady." + +"It is really pretty--give me twenty yards." + +"Very good, my lady." + +The article was measured and cut almost as soon as ordered, and the +remnant rewound into a small parcel and thrown upon the counter. + +At the same moment, and as a boy handed Caroline the edging, wrapped +in paper, for which she had already paid, and which she took +mechanically, she heard one of the bystanders whisper to another: "The +Countess D----!" (one of the most celebrated women of England.) + +"Ma'ma," said Caroline, "did you observe that lady?" + +And they left the shop. + +"Bless me!" said Mrs. Clifford, looking at her watch, "do you know how +late it is? Half past two. We promised to be at Mrs. Porter's at this +very time. She said, you remember, she was going out at four; and it +will take us, I'm afraid, nearly an hour to get there." + +"Then let us make haste, ma'ma!" + +And with a very rapid pace they hurried back toward Regent Street and +Portland Place. They had gone on in this way, perhaps, twenty minutes, +when a white-headed, respectable-looking old gentleman was thrust +aside by a rude fellow pushing by, so that he ran against Caroline, +and caused her to drop her pocket-handkerchief. He stopped, with +evident marks of mortification, and picked it up, with a polite +apology. Caroline assured him she was not hurt. + +"But, my dear young lady," said the benevolent-looking old gentleman, +"let me return your parcel." + +"Oh, that is not mine," replied Caroline. + +"I beg your pardon, it fell with your handkerchief." + +"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed Caroline, "what have I done! I have +brought away a piece of that lace! Ma'ma, let us go back directly." + +Although the incident had occupied but a minute, Mrs. Clifford and +Franklin, engaged in conversation, had not perceived it, and had gone +several paces on. The old gentleman smiled, bowed, and disappeared +around a corner. + +At this moment a man stepped up, and laying his hand roughly on +Caroline's arm, said, + +"Young woman, you must come with me!" + +And a second iron-hand grasped her other arm. + +Shocked and affrighted, she saw they were policemen. + +Then the voice of a person very much out of breath, cried, + +"This is the one!--I can swear to her! And look!--there is the very +lace in her hand!" + +Pale as death, bewildered with terror, the poor girl could only +attempt to say, "Ma'ma! ma'ma!" but her tongue clove to the roof of +her mouth, and her voice refused its office. A crowd had already +collected, and the words, "Lady been a stealing!" and, "They've nabbed +a thief!" were audible enough. + +"Come, my beauty!" said the man, pulling her forward, "we've no time +to lose." + +"Scoundrel!" cried the voice of Franklin, as he grasped him by the +throat, "who are you?" + +"You see who we are;" was the stern reply; "we're policemen, in the +execution of our duty. Take your band off my throat." + +Franklin recognized their uniform, and relaxed his hold. + +"Policemen! and what have policemen to do with this lady? You have +made some stupid blunder. This is a lady. She is under my protection. +Take your hand off her arm!" + +"If she's under your protection, the best thing you can do is to +accompany us," replied the man, bluntly; and he made another attempt +to drag her away. + +Franklin restrained himself with an effort which did him honor, +conscious that violence would be here out of place, and perceiving +that it would be utterly useless. He strove a moment to collect his +thoughts as one stunned by a thunderbolt. + +"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. + +"If you ask for information," remarked the man, impressed by his +agonized astonishment, "I will tell you; but wont the young woman get +into a hack, out of the crowd?" + +An empty carriage happened to be passing, into which, like a man in a +dream, Franklin handed the ladies. One police officer entered with +them--the other took his seat on the box with the coachman. Caroline, +although still colorless, had partly regained her courage, and +endeavored to smile. Mrs. Clifford, in a most distressing state of +agitation, only found breath to say, "Well, this is a pretty +adventure, upon my word!" + +As the carriage moved away, followed by a troop of ragamuffins, +leaping, laughing, and shouting, Franklin said, + +"And now, my good fellow, I have submitted peaceably to this atrocious +outrage, tell me by whose authority you act, and in what way this +young lady has exposed herself to such an infamous insult?" + +"Well, in the first place," said the man, coolly, "I act by the +authority of the Messieurs Blake, Blanchard & Co.; and in the second +place, the young lady has exposed herself to such an infamous insult +by stealing ten yards of Brussels' lace, at £12 a yard, value £120 +sterling." + +"Scoundrel!" exclaimed Franklin, again grasping his collar. + +"Hollo! hollo! hollo!" cried the man--hands off, my cove! and keep a +civil tongue in your head, you'd best. It aint of no use, I give you +my word of honor." + +"Miss Clifford--" + +But Miss Clifford had covered her face with her white hands, which did +not conceal her still whiter complexion. + +"Why, look ye, sir,", said the man, "if you really aint a party to the +offence, I'm very sorry for you. The business is just this here. The +shop of Blake, Blanchard & Co., has been frequently robbed, and +sometimes by ladies. I was called, not four mouths ago, to take a real +lady to prison, who had stole to the amount of £10. And to prison she +went, too, though some of the most respectable people in town came +down and begged for her. Now this here young lady came yesterday to +the shop of Blake, Blanchard & Co.--tumbled every thing upside down, +and bought nothing--went away--to-day came again--asked to see the +most valuable lace--bought ten shillings' worth of narrow edging, and +left the premises. At her departure she was seen to take ten yards of +lace--value, £120. I was called in, and followed her, with one of the +clerks, to identify her person. We perceived her walking fast--very +fast, indeed. It was as much as we could do to overtake her. The clerk +can swear to her identity--and the lace was found in her hand. Both +the young man and myself can swear to it, if she denies it--though I +caution you, Miss, not to say any thing at present, because it can be +used against you at your trial." + +"I do not deny it," said Caroline, with flashing eyes. "I took the +lace, but did not know I took it." + +"Oh! ho-ho!" said the man. "I hope you can make 'em believe that. +Perhaps you can." + +"My dear friend," cried Mrs. Clifford, now nearly beside herself, "I +assure you, this is a frightful mistake. She carried the lace away +from mere carelessness. Here is all the money I have about me. Take it +for yourself, only let us go. My daughter, I assure you, is utterly +incapable of stealing. You don't know her. As for the lace, I am +willing to pay for it. My name is Mrs. Clifford. I live No. ---- +Grosvenor Street, Grosvenor Square. My dear, kind, good sir, turn the +carriage and let us go home. My husband was Captain Clifford, of the +American navy. Do you think we would be guilty of stealing? I will +give you any money you desire. I will give you £50--only let us go." + +"If your husband was Admiral Nelson himself," replied the man, with +dignity, "I could not let you go now--not if you were to give me £500. +I have only to do my duty. It's a very painful one--but it must be +done. I aint a judge. I'm a policeman; and my business is to deliver +you safe into the hands of Blake, Blanchard & Co." + +To describe the whirl of thoughts which swept through the mind of +Franklin during the interval would be impossible. He saw that a simple +act of carelessness had been committed by Caroline; but he was enough +of a lawyer to perceive that the proof against her was singularly +striking and unanswerable--and he knew the world too well, not to feel +extraordinary alarm at the possible consequences. In London, alone, +without friends or acquaintances, a glance into the future almost +drove him to distraction. At moments he was half mastered by the +impulse to bear Caroline away, by a sudden _coup de main_; but his +hand was held by the reflection, that even were such a wild scheme +possible, success would be no means of security, inasmuch as Mrs. +Clifford had given her address; while the attempt would exasperate the +other party, appear but a new evidence of guilt, and in every way +enhance the danger of their position. + +As they approached the fatal shop, a large crowd had collected around +the door. Franklin felt that he was in one of those crises on which +hang human destiny and life, and that he had need of more prudence and +wisdom than man can possess, except it be given him from above. Deep, +therefore, and trusting, was his silent prayer to Him who hath said, +"_Be strong and of a good courage. I will not fail thee, nor forsake +thee._" + +Caroline appeared ready to sink into the earth when the carriage +stopped. + +"My dearest Miss Clifford," said Franklin, "these men have fallen into +a bungling error, and it will require some prudence on our part to +make them see it. But compose yourself. Put down your veil; say +nothing till I call you--and may God, in his mercy, grant that our +ordeal be short!" + +These words were uttered with a composure and cheerful presence of +mind which reassured in some degree the fainting girl. She had at her +side a protector who would never desert her--a pilot with a strong +arm, a steady eye, and a bold heart--who would steer her through the +wild storm, if any human being could. + +Mrs. Clifford, speechless with terror, let down her daughter's veil as +well as her shaking hands permitted, and was led by Franklin from the +carriage into the house. He then handed, or rather lifted, out +Caroline, who clung to him with helplessness and terror. The trembling +party--a hundred unfeeling eyes bent upon them--were conducted +through the shop to a back parlor, into the presence of Mr. Jennings, +the only one of the firm of Blake, Blanchard & Co. who happened to be +at home. As Franklin saw him his heart sank in his bosom, and the +courage which had begun to mount with the danger, seemed a mockery. + +Mr. Jennings was a respectable looking man of forty, of a thin, hard +countenance, repelling manners, and sharp voice, which, when excited, +rose to a piercing and discordant note. There was no sign of mercy or +moderation in his physiognomy. This man, who, after faithful +subordinate services, had become the inferior and hardest working +partner, happened to be afflicted with a very violent temper, which +had been wrought into a rage by various recent purloinings, apparently +like the present, attributed to female customers, and perpetrated with +a combined cunning and daring which baffled detection, and he had long +yearned to lay his hand upon one of them. His passions and interests +were mingled together in this desire, which, in addition, he supposed +fully sanctioned by duty; and when a man, and particularly such a man, +of a narrow mind and cold heart--loving power, and rarely enabled to +taste its sweets, once gets into his head the idea that he is acting +from duty--God help the poor victim that falls within his grasp. + +Such was the individual before whom, in the attitude of a detected +criminal, was dragged the sweet and trembling girl. Such was the man +before whom Franklin stood, curbing within the limits of prudence his +high wrought feelings. + +"Now, my honest women," said Jennings, seating himself magisterially +in a large arm-chair by a table, while the rest stood in a circle +around, like prisoners at a bar before their judge, "what have you to +say with regard to the atrocious act of felony--" + +"One moment, sir," said Franklin. "You will have the kindness to order +chairs for those ladies." + +Mr. Jennings paused, fixed a surprised glance at the speaker, and +obeyed. + +"Well then, _now_--" demanded he. + +"I beg your pardon!" again interrupted Franklin, "permit me, in your +own interest, to make another suggestion. Before you proceed in this +examination, I warn you, with all deference to the sincerity of your +present error, that you have before you two ladies of respectability, +and unblemished reputation, and who are entirely innocent in this +matter." + +"Bah!" ejaculated Mr. Jennings. + +"Silence, sir," cried Franklin, with an indignation irrepressible. +"You have dragged before you through the streets of London, a young +and innocent girl, like a criminal. If circumstances seem for a moment +to give you the right, humanity, as well as decency requires, at least +till the question of her guilt be settled, that you address her with +respect, and hear her defence with candor and attention." + +Mr. Jennings turned pale, swallowed his rage, and replied: "Speak, +sir! speak, sir! I am all candor and attention." + +"I beg your pardon," resumed Franklin, "if I have answered with too +much asperity. But this young lady is perfectly innocent. She has high +friends. You will consider her under the protection of the American +Ambassador at this Court! State to me, if you please, your reasons for +dragging her before you in the custody of policemen." + +Awed by Franklin's tone, but rather infuriated than melted, Mr. +Jennings answered with sarcastic politeness-- + +"Certainly, sir, your request is a just one. The case is this. The +young lady came to my shop this morning, and had brought out for her +examination the most expensive lace, of which, however, she purchased +none, but, instead, expended ten shillings for some narrow edging. I +must inform you that persons in the dress of ladies, and even persons +in the rank of ladies, have more than once committed thefts of this +kind, and I have ordered one of the young men to watch. This +individual saw in a mirror the young lady, as she was about to leave, +seize a parcel of lace, and carry it out under cover of her +pocket-handkerchief. We sent directly for policemen--but so rapid was +the flight of the party, including yourself, that it was not without +considerable difficulty and delay that they were overtaken, when the +stolen lace was found in her hand. We are often obliged to forego the +gratification of punishing such misdemeanors by the technical +difficulty of proving the crime upon the criminal. You perceive how +the present case stands. I am willing to allow it is but fair you +should be heard, if you have any thing to say in reply." + +"I have much to say," resumed Franklin, smiling with assumed +confidence, "enough to satisfy any reasonable man, and I hope I stand +before such a one. That the young lady took the lace no one can deny. +But I will tell you how she took it. For the first time in London, her +mind naturally excited, she was bewildered amid the novel and +interesting objects around her. The splendor of your establishment +dazzled her eyes and distracted her attention. In company with her +mother and myself she came here to see the lace in question, but she +could not have intended to steal it, if I must answer to such a +charge, because it would have been impossible for her to use such an +article without the knowledge of her mother. If she is a thief her +mother and I share her guilt. I therefore repeat to you that these +ladies can command references to raise them above the slightest breath +of suspicion--references sufficient to satisfy the most +incredulous--the most unreasonable. She is a person of the purest life +and strongest principles. Not one of her friends, and, after a proper +examination, not one of the public, will ever believe her guilty of +any thing worse than a mere moment of bewilderment and absence of +mind." + +"Upon my word, sir," said Mr. Jennings, "you have undertaken a pretty +difficult task--no less than to convince me that black is white, and +that two and two don't make four. Who are you?--and where are your +references?" + +Franklin did not succeed in concealing a certain trepidation at this +blunt demand, and it was not lost upon Jennings. + +"My references do not reside in England." + +"Ah! ha!" + +"I am a stranger in your metropolis." + +"Oh! ho!" + +"And therefore," added Franklin, "every noble-minded and fair-play +loving Englishman will say, possessing greater claim upon your +moderation. I can bring you, from my own country--through the official +intervention of the American Minister, references to outweigh a +thousand fold--ten million fold--all opposite appearances. I can give +a moral demonstration that the intentional commission by this young +lady of the act with which she is charged, is an utter, and a +ridiculous impossibility." + +"I have now heard you," said Jennings, "and I am sorry to say, I must, +notwithstanding, send the lady before a magistrate. The ingenious +arguments you have used are equally applicable to every theft. No +reference--no rank--no character can weigh against so plain a fact, +proved by ocular demonstration. No rational judge or jury can doubt +she _stole_ the lace. It is my duty to make an example of her. This is +not the first, nor the second time, we have been robbed by ladies in +affluent circumstances, and respectably connected. It is a peculiar +crime, and generally committed in a way which renders it both +difficult and dangerous, even when we know the criminal, to attempt to +fix the fact upon her. This time we have caught her in the very _act_. +We have eye-witnesses enough to render doubt impossible. She does not +deny it. She fled with precipitation. She was overtaken a long +distance off--nearly half an hour after the offence--the lace was +found in her hand--and her companion tried to bribe the policeman with +£50 to let her escape. And do you now talk to me of 'respectability,' +and 'connections,' and such nonsense? I would go as far as you or any +man to save an innocent person from destruction. But when once +convinced, by my own eyes, of deliberate guilt, it is too late for +mercy. The ignorant beggar, who steals to save himself from starving, +I could pity--I could almost release; but when the rich and the +educated resort to stealing, to gratify their vanity and avarice, +hoping to shelter themselves from punishment by their 'connections,' +and their high position in society--they must be taught, sir, that +they do it at a fearful peril, and that detection will bring down upon +them the same vulgar and rigorous penalties as if they were the lowest +dregs of the people." + +"I agree with you perfectly," replied Franklin, with forced composure, +although the plain picture appalled him, and robbed his countenance of +every trace of color, "but permit me to remark that you must be quite +sure the person before you belongs to this guilty class. Her innocence +can be rendered morally certain. The whole world will brand as cruel +injustice any harsh treatment. A careless girl has been absent-minded. +All people are liable to be so. You look for your spectacles when they +are on your nose--or seek your pocket-handkerchief, and find it in +your hand--" + +"Our opinions differ on that point," said Mr. Jennings coldly, "and a +jury must decide between us. Policemen, take the party before the +magistrate. I will follow with my witnesses, and I pledge myself to +visit so heinous a crime with the utmost rigor of the law." + +The policemen stepped to the side of Caroline. + +"I appeal to your generosity--to your mercy," cried Franklin, "that +she may at least be taken to the American Minister, instead of being +dragged before a magistrate. I request only that you act with +gentleness." + +Mr. Jennings pointed the policemen to the door. + +"And I not only request, I demand it!" cried Franklin. "If you refuse +me, you refuse me at your peril--" + +"You have nothing to command here, sir," replied Mr. Jennings. "The +American Minister can make his statement before the magistrate. I am +not disposed to exercise the least mercy. Policemen, your duty. If her +fate be a terrible one, she has herself to thank for it. I hope it may +deter others from following her example." + +"And what will be my daughter's fate?" asked the unsteady voice of +Mrs. Clifford. + +"Transportation for life," was the reply. + +Mrs. Clifford shrieked. Caroline rose wildly and staggered toward the +door. Mr. Jennings, as if thirsting for her destruction, and fearing +her escape, seized her so roughly that she screamed with pain and +terror, when Franklin dragged him back and hurled him to the wall. His +impulse was to strike him to the earth, but with one of the highest +qualities attained by man, self-government, he recollected himself and +refrained. + +"Policemen," shouted Mr. Jennings, very white, "I command you to take +the whole party into custody. You witnessed the assault. I am in +danger of my life. They are a gang of thieves and cut-throats. Off +with them this instant." + +"Stop!" cried Franklin, and there was something in his voice which +arrested the step of the policemen, and _compelled_ Jennings to stand +in breathless attention. "I demand the presence of one or both of your +partners, before the young lady be removed. You will not, because you +_dare_ not, refuse me this reasonable request. If you do, sir, it were +better you never had been born. Guilty, or not guilty, the person +whom, before she has been tried, your infamous lips have branded as a +common thief, has a right to all mild and gentle treatment, consistent +with law and justice. You say the jury will decide. But the question +is now whether your house is prepared to send her before a jury. That +is the question to be discussed, and you are not in a temper of mind, +sir, to enable you to decide it impartially. The affair will ring from +one end of England and the United States to the other, and the +execrations of thousands, who have as yet never heard of you, will +fall upon your name. You will find that there are two sides to the +question. You will find that if the lady has a malignant accuser she +has also indignant and powerful defenders. The world will say you +might have been excusable not to release her, but you had no right to +hurry her before the public with needless and brutal precipitation. +They will say--and I will take care to tell them--that, overcome by +your violent temper, you insulted--you _assaulted_--a helpless young +girl in your power, whose guilt had not been proved, and that, because +I dragged you back--blind with wrath, and burning with revenge--you +dared to take upon yourself, alone, the whole responsibility of this +outrage, which will bring punishment on you, and disgrace on your +house. They will say let no lady hereafter trust herself across the +threshold of Blake, Blanchard & Co., where the watch is set and the +trap laid for the unwary. They will say that Mr. Jennings is a foul +calumniator of woman as a sex--that he has charged the noble ladies of +England with crime. They will judge whether the young girl could be +guilty without the participation of her mother and myself, who, as you +say, fled with her. The case is one of mere carelessness, or we are +three thieves. Go on, if you dare, without your partners. Your house, +will become infamous, and you--yourself--mark me, sir, shall not +escape the chastisement you deserve!" + +He ceased, and the silence remained for a while unbroken. + +This appeal was not, on the part of Franklin, the mere result of +passion and despair, although from both it received a strange power. +It was a wise calculation that Jennings, who could not be reasoned or +melted, might be terrified from his purpose, till the arrival of his +partners, before whom the matter might take a different turn. By a +happy inspiration Franklin had read the man aright, and he saw changes +of countenance, as he proceeded, which gave boldness to his heart and +fire to his lips. Jennings was a coward. He was terror-struck at the +idea of acting on his "sole responsibility," in an affair which seemed +likely to be so hotly contested. The blood curdled in his veins at the +thought of the deadly enemies, darkly hinted at, and the consequences +clearly threatened. He saw Caroline was no common thief, and Franklin +no common man. There were moments when he actually believed the fact +really was as Franklin represented--and, thus quailing under the +torrent of eloquence to which the voice and manner gave something +absolutely irresistible, half suffocated with rage and fear, he said +with ill assumed indifference: + +"Oh! very well, sir, very well. I will wait for my partners. Nothing +shall be done rashly. Nothing from revenge. But the young lady shall +not escape. Mr. Williams, go and see if Mr. Blake or Mr. Blanchard +have come in." + +And thus at least more time was gained. + +Mr. Williams went out, and returned to say that Mr. Blake had not yet +come in, but Mr. Blanchard had, and would join them immediately. + +The door opened and the person in question entered. He was a young man +of thirty, of unusually prepossessing exterior. A stream of hope shot +through Franklin's heart as he read his face. + +Mr. Blanchard seated himself gravely in the large chair which was +abdicated in his favor by Jennings, who related to him the facts, +respectfully and clearly, and called up the policemen and Mr. Williams +in confirmation. + +"It is a bad case," said Mr. Blanchard. "Our duty is clear. Is there +any thing said in the defence?" + +"Oh yes, there is a powerful defence!" replied Mr. Jennings, with a +sneer, "the young lady took the lace, and kept it half an hour, +running away as fast as she could, but she _but she didn't know she +had it_!! ha! ha! ha!" + +Mr. Blanchard shook his head. + +"Sir, may I speak?" said Franklin. + +"Speak," returned Mr. Blanchard, in a low voice. "If you have any +thing to say I will hear it with the sincerest desire to find it of +weight. But you have a difficult task before you. These occasions are +extremely painful. The necessity of sending to prison a respectable +young lady, as you represent this person to be, is harrowing indeed; +but private feelings must give way to higher considerations. I have a +duty to perform--a duty to society--a duty to my partners--a duty to +God!" + +"You have," rejoined Franklin, "but if you properly examine your +conscience, and ask light of Him who knows the truth, you will hear +the voice of God himself, warning you not to perform that duty +prematurely, carelessly, or cruelly. I ask time. I offer references to +prove that the person in question, from education, character, habits, +opinions, religious principles, and her whole, pure and artless life, +is not, and could not be intentionally guilty of the act in question. +I request time to produce these references. My young companion took +the lace in a moment of bewilderment--of absence of mind. She has just +arrived in London--is dazzled and excited. If, sir, you have a sister, +a daughter, a mother, a wife, picture her--after such a careless +accident--grasped by a policeman, dragged through the streets, exposed +to the eyes of the jesting crowd--the blackest construction put upon +her action, shrinking before a magistrate, cast into prison, and, God +knows what else!--and all because of an act, not in reality more +inexplicable than that of a man who walks off with a hat not his own, +or another person's umbrella--in a fit of forgetfulness." + +Jennings leaned over and whispered something to Mr. Blanchard. + +"It is quite probable," said Mr. Blanchard, "that you believe her +innocent, but the various and glaring circumstances do not permit me +to be of your opinion. The expressive flight, the intervening time, +long enough to discover a mistake merely accidental--the bribe of +£50--no--no--it is impossible," said he, rising, "I am sorry for you, +sir, but this matter rests no longer with me. The prisoner must be +removed." + +"What I ask," said Franklin, "is not her release. It is only time to +make you acquainted with the proofs of which the case is susceptible. +The 'prisoner,' as you call her, is as innocent as the snow yet +unfallen from heaven. I do not ask you to sacrifice what you fancy +your duty, I ask you only to pause ere you execute it. I request you +ere you thrust a shrinking girl, as a suspected thief, before the +public, that you more carefully examine her side of the question. Her +bankers, the Messrs. Baring, will answer for her presence whenever you +desire. My banker will answer for her. The American Minister will +satisfy you of the strong impropriety of any other proceeding. Oh! +sir, in the name of a mother's breaking heart--in the name of sweet +girlish innocence--in the name of God, believe what I say! If you err, +err on the side of mercy. Think, when you lay your head this night on +your pillow, the day has not been lost, for it was marked by an act of +mercy. Think, when on your death-bed, you plead at the throne of God, +He has said, 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.' +If she really had committed the offence, I should not fear to ask you +for mercy on her young head--her inexperienced life. Our Divine Master +granted mercy even to the guilty. Will you refuse it then to this +trembling and innocent girl, for whose guileless intention, in this +terrible accident, I answer before man and God, and with my life and +soul. Come here, Miss Clifford! Take off your veil. Tell Mr. +Blanchard, in the simple language of truth, how this incident took +place." + +"Yes, come here, my young friend," said Mr. Blanchard, "and tell me +how this sad mistake arose." + +Perhaps it was Franklin's eloquence--perhaps it was Caroline's +appearance--perhaps it was both, which drew the silent tear from Mr. +Blanchard's eyes, and those two significant words from his lips. But +oh! to Franklin's soul, wrought up almost to despair--almost, to +madness--they were rapture, they were ecstasy, they were like the +first streak of golden sky which announces to the half-wrecked sailor +that the tempest is over. + +"Speak, my dear young lady," said Mr. Blanchard, "do not tremble so! +you have nothing to fear from me!" + +"I left the door," said Caroline, in a low voice, "without knowing I +had the lace. A gentleman ran against me and knocked it out of my +hand. He picked it up. I then saw what I had done. I exclaimed, +'ma'ma, let us go back!'--but ma'ma had gone on--I was alone--two men +seized me--and--and--" + +She covered her face with her hands, and sunk into the chair. + +"But, so far from coming back," said Mr. Jennings' piercing voice, +"you were walking rapidly away." + +"No," said Caroline. + +"But I say yes!" screamed Jennings. "Mr. Williams, was not the young +woman walking rapidly away?" + +"She _had been_ walking rapidly," said Mr. Williams, "but when we came +up she was, as she says, standing still, looking at the lace. It is +also true that an old gentleman ran against her, knocked the lace out +of her hand, and picked it up again. That I saw from the distance." + +"Mark you!" exclaimed Franklin, "how each small feature of her story +is confirmed." + +"But you left our door," exclaimed Mr. Jennings, "at a furious pace." + +"That I can explain to your satisfaction," said Franklin. "We were +engaged to call upon a lady, Mrs. Porter, No. ----, Portland-Place, at +half past two. This Mrs. Porter herself can testify. We left your door +too late, and walked rapidly to keep our appointment. You can +ascertain from your clerks at what hour we left." + +"It was just half past two," said Mr. Williams. "I looked at the +clock." + +"Mark!" cried Franklin, with an air of triumph. + +"Upon my word, Mr. Jennings," said Mr. Blanchard, "we have been too +hasty--" + +At this moment the door opened, and another person entered. + +"Just in time," muttered Mr. Jennings. + +It was Mr. Blake, chief partner in the firm of Blake, Blanchard & Co. +He was a venerable old gentleman, of an agreeable person, with a +certain dignity which well became his snow-white hair, but through +which, on the present occasion, appeared a settled firmness, almost a +sternness, boding no good. + +"You have come in time," said Jennings. "Do you know what is going on +here?" + +"I do. The facts have been related to me." + +"And the famous defence?" added Jennings, with one of his worst +sneers, "do you know that also?" + +"I do. It is a clear case. There is but one course for us." + +"And yet," cried Jennings, "Mr. Blanchard has been thinking it will +not do to send so respectable a young lady to prison. But I say you +will not have a case in forty years so proper to make a wholesome +example of. If you let this one go, whom can you punish? Precautions +were useless, if thieves can commit their depredations under our very +noses with impunity." + +"I am of your opinion," said Mr. Blake. "The offence is of a very +aggravated description; and I deem it absolutely necessary to send the +delinquent before a magistrate to be punished as she deserves." + +"I have explained--" said Franklin. + +But while he commenced once more his agonizing task, Mr. Jennings took +Mr. Blake aside, and whispered to him some minutes vehemently. +Franklin attempted to speak again. + +"I will hear no explanation," said the old gentleman. "No argument--no +character--no references can prevail against so wicked a felony so +clearly proved. The youth, condition in life, and education of the +person, only render the crime more detestable, and the necessity for a +terrible example more unavoidable. Your own good sense should have +taught you, sir, that threats are here out of place, and violence can +only make matters worse. I have solemnly vowed that I would meet the +next case with the utmost rigor of the law. I am determined to +prosecute. Where is the prisoner? Policemen, take her into custody." + +"But," cried Franklin. + +"I will hear no more," said Mr. Blake, coldly and firmly. "Mr. +Jennings, who has gone over the case with the most attention, is +thoroughly convinced--" + +"Thoroughly!" said Mr. Jennings. + +"Policemen--" + +Franklin's brain whirled in wild despair. He clasped his hands--he +conjured the mild, mistaken man, whose slightest word could save +Caroline from destruction. + +"Mercy! I ask only one day." + +"Young man, you plead in vain! Ask mercy of God, but not of me." + +"Then listen, heart of stone!" cried Franklin, "and hear my final +words. You are old. Your head is white; your feet are already in the +grave. You will, ere long, be called before your Maker--yourself a +trembling suppliant for mercy. If, with cold-blooded, stupid +obstinacy, in the face of my warning, you drag this innocent and +modest girl, prematurely, into a police office--at a bar for +criminals--to stand a spectacle for the public, amid robbers, and +murderers, and to run the fearful chances of the law, I solemnly warn +you, old man, you will have innocent blood on your conscience--you +will call down God's curse upon your head." + +"What can I do?" said Mr. Blake, overwhelmed by his irresistible +earnestness. + +"You can do unto others, as you would have them do unto you--you can +give us time for proof, and yourself for reflection. You can suppose +it was your own daughter in her place. You can examine more carefully. +You can break from the leading-strings of that malignant Mr. Jennings. +You can consult with Mr. Blanchard, a man of reason and feeling, who +disapproves your severity. You can wait to satisfy yourself that this +young lady is distinguished for a stainless character, a pure life, +strict religious principles, humble faith in God, and habitual +communion with him. You can judge for yourself whether this is a case +of _monomania_--whether a person thus distinguished, could be guilty +of intentional purloining. Sir, ocular demonstration weighs _nothing_ +against such a character. You can ask yourself more dispassionately +whether it be not a possibility--a very natural one--for an +absent-minded person to commit such an act mechanically and +unconsciously. You can hear her artless story from her own lips, and +candidly consider if it _may not_ be the truth." + +Carried away by Franklin's eloquent vehemence, Mr. Blake did look. +Caroline had risen. The last spark of earthly hope had fled. She +stood, without gesture or tear. It seemed as if death had already +laid his icy hand upon her, only her eyes were lifted above, while she +breathed a silent prayer to Him whose mighty hand can raise the +trusting heart, in one instant, from the lowest depths of despair. + +"Ha! What! God bless my soul!" suddenly ejaculated the old gentleman, +in great astonishment. "What do I see! My dearest, sweetest young +lady! Mr. Blanchard! Mr. Jennings! Mr. Williams--" + +Caroline gazed at him a moment--uttered a shriek which thrilled to +every heart with an electric shock, cried, "Oh, sir, save me--_you_ +can save me!" and fell insensible into the arms of Franklin. + +"Policemen!--off with you!" cried Mr. Blake, with tears in his eyes. +"Mr. Jennings, you are a fool! I answer with my life for this young +lady. I ran against her in the street. I picked up the lace, and saw +her look of astonishment and horror; and heard her exclaim, '_ma'ma! +let us go back directly!_' Go, proclaim to every one in the +establishment that she is innocent. We are the guilty party--and we +are at _her_ mercy!" + +To terminate the exciting scene, Franklin proposed to return home. A +carriage was called. Caroline had revived, and her feelings, +fortunately, found vent in tears. She wept bitterly on her mother's +bosom, who gave it back with interest. But in the midst of their joy, +not one of the three forgot to offer up their secret, thankful prayer, +to that overruling Providence, whose watchful mercy had rescued them +from a fate too horrible for imagination. + +Franklin could scarcely wait till they walked to the carriage. He +wished to carry--to drag Caroline away. He shifted his position +continually, without apparent cause; at last shook hands with his +companions, saying he would follow the carriage, as he wanted air and +exercise. + +They soon arrived home, where Caroline, in a high state of excitement, +was ordered to bed by a physician; but, after soothing medicines had +calmed certain hysterical symptoms, she fell into a deep sleep, which +the doctor said was worth more than all the apothecaries could +compound. In fact, she did not wake till late next morning, and in a +day or two was comparatively restored. + +But poor Franklin had gone home in a raging fever, which increased +during the night to delirium. His ravings were of magistrates, the +jeering crowd, dungeons, chains, and the convict-ship. Then he was at +the penal settlement. He heard the frightful oaths, obscene jests, and +blasphemous laughter of the convicts. Among them he beheld Caroline +Clifford--haggard, and in rags--now toiling at her task, now shrieking +beneath the bloody lash--and he seemed to grasp the throat of +Jennings, and implored him to stay his hellish hand. + +More than a month passed before he was sufficiently recovered to leave +his room. Every day Mrs. Clifford had visited him, and watched over +him with a mother's love. Every day the carriage of Mr. Blake brought +the old gentleman to the bed-side of the poor invalid, where he +listened to the ravings of his disturbed imagination, and shuddered +to think of what horrors--but for a providential coincidence--he might +have added to the history of human wo. + +At length Mr. Franklin was allowed to take a drive. It is scarcely +necessary to say that he called on the ladies. Mrs. Clifford, +previously apprized of his intended visit, at the sound of the bell, +accidentally remembered that she had left her scissors up stairs. So +Franklin found Caroline alone. + +"You are very, very pale," cried the greatly agitated girl, her eyes +filling with good, honest tears, as she gave him her hand. + +He raised it to his lips. + +"I beg your pardon, Miss Clifford." + +But, like Beatrice, she seemed to hold it there again with a fervor +which even the modest Franklin could not wholly misunderstand. + +"I owe you more than my life," cried Caroline, with such a look as she +had never bestowed upon him before. + +"And yet," cried Franklin, "you fraudulently withhold from me the only +payment in your power." + +"Nonsense--what payment," cried she, blushing deeply. + +"Your dear self!" answered Franklin, in a timid voice. + +"Then you must collect your debt, as other hard-hearted creditors +do--by force." + +"In that case," rejoined Franklin, with a boldness which astonished +himself, "an execution must issue, and proceedings commence directly." + +Mrs. Clifford, having found her scissors, just then entered the room, +but not before the ardent lawyer had performed the threatened +duty--not quite so harrowing a one as that attempted by Mr. Jennings, +though it led to the same result, viz., she was obviously +_transported_, and, as it turned out---_for life_. + +Nor is this all. + +Old Mr. Blake had learned how the land lay from Mrs. Clifford, and he +resolved to make the young people reparation. He owed it to them in +all conscience. They were married in about six weeks; and when the +ceremony was over, a parcel was brought in, directed "_To Mrs. +Franklin, with the compliments of Messrs. Blake, Blanchard & Co.,_" +which, on being opened, was found to contain a superb Cashmere +shawl--thirty yards of the £12 lace, and a neat mahogany box, with a +coronet of diamonds for the young criminal. + +We wont go into the history of the ladies' objections to accepting +these costly testimonials. Mr. Blake pleaded almost as eloquently as +Franklin had done, till at last Franklin "put his foot down," as I +recommend all young husbands to do on such occasions, and showed Mr. +Blake who was master. + +Nor was this all either. + +A number of years afterward, when Mr. and Mrs. Franklin had returned +to New York, and while the fond wife and happy mother was one day +profoundly engaged in arranging a highly ornamented and curious little +cap, her husband entered with a letter, and read as follows: + + TO MRS. CAROLINE FRANKLIN. + + _London, Feb_. 10, 184-. + + MADAM,--It has become my duty to inform you, that, + by the will of the late Mr. Blake, of the firm of + Blake, Blanchard & Co., you have become entitled to + his blessing, and a legacy of £2500 sterling, + which, upon proving your identity, you can either + draw for on me, at thirty days, or have remitted in + any other way you desire. + + I have the honor to be, madam, very respectfully, + your obedient servant, + JOHN LOCKLEY, + + Solicitor, No. ---- Russel Square. + + + + +A FUNERAL THOUGHT. + +BY J. BAYARD TAYLOR. + + + When the pale Genius, to whose hollow tramp + Echo the startled chambers of the soul, + Waves his inverted torch o'er that wan camp + Where the archangel's marshaling trumpets roll, + I would not meet him in the chamber dim, + Hushed, and o'erburthened with a nameless fear, + When the breath flutters, and the senses swim, + And the dread hour is near! + + Though Love's dear arms might clasp me fondly then, + As if to keep the Summoner at bay, + And woman's wo and the calm grief of men + Hallow at last the still, unbreathing clay-- + These are Earth's fetters, and the soul would shrink, + Thus bound, from Darkness and the dread Unknown, + Stretching its arms from Death's eternal brink, + Which it must dare alone! + + But in the awful silence of the sky, + Upon some mountain summit, never trod + Through the bright ether would I climb, to die + Afar from mortals, and alone with God! + To the pure keeping of the stainless air + Would I resign my feeble, failing breath, + And with the rapture of an answered prayer + Welcome the kiss of Death! + + The soul, which wrestled with that doom of pain, + Prometheus-like, its lingering portion here, + Would there forget the vulture and the chain, + And leap to freedom from its mountain-bier! + All that it ever knew, of noble thought, + Would guide it upward to the glorious track, + Nor the keen pangs by parting anguish wrought, + Turn its bright glances back! + + Then to the elements my frame would turn; + No worms should riot on my coffined clay, + But the cold limbs, from that sepulchral urn, + In the slow storms of ages waste away! + Loud winds, and thunder's diapason high, + Should be my requiem through the coming time, + And the white summit, fading in the sky, + My monument sublime! + + + + +THE MEMORIAL TREE. + +BY WM. GILMORE SIMMS, AUTHOR OF "THE YEMASSE," "RICHARD HURDIS," ETC. + + Great trees that o'er us grow-- + Green leaves that gather round them--the fresh hues, + That tell of fruit, and blossoms yet to blow, + Opening fond bosoms to the embracing dews; + + These, now so bright, + That deck the slopes about thy childhood's home, + And seem, in long duration, to thy sight, + As they had promise of perpetual bloom; + + So linked with all + The first dear throbs of feeling in thy heart, + When, at the dawn of summer and of fall, + Thou weptst the leaf that must so soon depart! + + What had all these, + Of frail, deciduous nature, to persuade, + Howe'er their sweets might charm, and beauty please, + The memories that their own could never aid? + + They kept no tale-- + No solemn history of the fruitful hour; + The lover's promise, the beloved one's wail-- + To wake the dead leaf in each lonely bower! + + The autumn breath + O'erthrew each frail memorial of their past; + And every token was resigned to death, + In the first summons of the northern blast. + + They nourished naught + That to the chain of moral being binds + The recollections of the once gay spot, + And its sweet offices, to future minds. + + Thou may'st repair-- + Thou, who hast loved in summer-eve to glide + With her whom thou hast still beheld as fair, + When she no longer wandered by thy side. + + And thou wilt weep + Each altered aspect of that happiest home, + Which saw the joys its memories could not keep, + Save by the sympathy which shares their doom. + + Thus Ruin stands + For Ruin--and the wreck of favorite things, + To him who o'er the waste but wrings his hands, + Proofs of the _fall_, and not the spring-time brings. + + Ah! who will weep, + In after seasons, when thou too art gone, + Within this grot, where shadowy memories keep + Their watch above the realm they keep alone? + + Who will lament, + In fruitless tears, that she the dear one died, + And thy surviving heart, in languishment, + Soon sought the grave and withered at her side? + + A newer bright + Makes young the woods--and bowers that not to thee + Brought fruit or blossom, triumph in the sight + Of those who naught but fruit and blossom see; + + To whom no voice + Whispers, that through the loved one's would the root + Of that exulting shrub, with happiest choice, + Has gone, with none its passage to dispute. + + While thine own heart, + In neighboring hillock, conscious, it may be-- + Quivers to see the fibres rend and part + The fair white breast which was so dear to thee. + + Of all the past, + That precious history of thy love and youth, + When not a cloud thy happy dawn o'ercast, + When all thou felt'st was joy, thou saw'st was truth; + + These have no speech + For idiot seasons that still come and go-- + To whom the heart no offices can teach, + Vainer than breezes that at midnight blow! + + And yet there seem + Memorials still in nature, which are taught,-- + Unless all pleasant fancies be a dream, + To bring our sweetest histories back to thought. + + A famous tree + Was this, three hundred years ago, when stood + The hunter-chief below it, bold and free, + Proud in his painted pomp and deeds of blood. + + By hunger taught, + He gathered the brown acorn in its shade, + And ere he slept, still gazing upward, caught + Sweet glimpses of the night, in stars arrayed. + + His hatchet sunk + With sharp wound, fixing his own favorite sign, + Deep in the living column of its trunk, + Where thou may'st read a history such as thine. + + He, too, could feel + Such passion as awakes the noble soul-- + And in fond hour, perchance, would hither steal, + With one, of all his tribe, who could his ire control. + + And others signs, + Tokens of races, greatlier taught, that came + To write like record, though in smoother lines, + And thus declare a still more human flame. + + Here love's caprice-- + The hope, the doubt, the dear despondencies--- + Joy that had never rest, hope without peace-- + These each declared the grief he never flies. + + And the great oak + Grew sacred to each separate pilgrimage, + Nor heeded, in his bulk, the sudden stroke + That scarred his giant trunk with seams of age. + + And we who gaze + Upon each, rude memorial--letter and date-- + Still undefaced by storm and length of days, + Stand, as beneath the shadow of a fate! + + Some elder-born, + A sire of wood and vale, guardian and king + Of separate races, unsubdued, unshorn, + Whose memories grasp the lives of every meaner thing! + + With great white beard + Far streaming with a prophet-like display, + Such as when Moses on the Mount appeared, + And prostrate tribes looked down, or looked away! + + With outstretched arms, + Paternal, as if blessing--with a grace, + Such as, in strength and greatness, ever charms, + As wooing the subdued one to embrace! + + Thus still it stood, + While the broad forests, 'neath the pioneer, + Perished--proud relic of the ancient wood-- + Men loved the record-tree, and bade them spare! + + And still at noon, + Repairing to its shadow, they explore + Its chronicles, still musing o'er th' unknown, + And telling well-known histories, told of yore! + + We shall leave ours, + Dear heart! and when our sleep beneath its boughs + Shall suffer spring to spread o'er us her flowers, + Eyes that vow love like ours shall trace our vows. + + + + +THE RAINBOW. + +BY MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. + + + Mountain! that first received the foot of man-- + Giving him shelter, when the shoreless flood + Went surging by, that whelmed a buried world-- + I see thee in thy lonely grandeur rise-- + I see the white-haired Patriarch, as he knelt + Beside his earthen altar, 'mid his sons, + While beat in praise the only pulse of life + Upon this buried planet,-- + O'er the gorged + And furrowed soil, swept forth a numerous train, + Horned, or cloven-footed, fierce, or tame, + While, mixed with song, the sound of countless wings, + His rescued prisoners, fanned the ambient air. + + The sun drew near his setting, clothed in gold, + But on the Patriarch, ere from prayer he rose, + A darkly-cinctured cloud chill tears had wept, + And rain-drops lay upon his silver hairs. + Then burst an arch of wondrous radiance forth, + Spanning the vaulted skies. Its mystic scroll + Proclaimed the amnesty that pitying Heaven + Granted to earth, all desolate and void. + Oh signet-ring, with which the Almighty sealed + His treaty with the remnant of the clay + That shrank before him, to remotest time + Stamp wisdom on the souls that turn to thee. + Unswerving teacher, who four thousand years + Hast ne'er withheld thy lesson, but unfurled + As shower and sunbeam bade, thy glorious scroll,-- + Oft, 'mid the summer's day, I musing sit + At my lone casement, to be taught of thee. + Born of the tear-drop and the smile, methinks, + Thou hast affinity with man, for such + His elements, and pilgrimage below. + Our span of strength and beauty fades like thine, + Yet stays its fabric on eternal truth + And boundless mercy. + The wild floods may come-- + The everlasting fountains burst their bounds-- + The exploring dove without a leaf return-- + Yea, the fires glow that melt the solid rock, + And earth be wrecked: _What then?_--be still, my soul, + Enter thine Ark--God's promise cannot fail-- + For surely as yon rainbow tints the cloud, + His truth, thine Ararat, will shelter thee. + + + + +SPIRIT-YEARNINGS FOR LOVE. + +BY MRS. H. MARION WARD. + + + Love me, darling, love me, for my wild and wayward heart, + Like Noah's dove in search of rest, will hover where thou art; + Will linger round thee, like a spell, till by thy hand caressed, + It folds its weary, care-worn wings, to nestle on thy breast. + + Love me, darling, love me! When my soul was sick with strife, + Thy soothing words have been the sun that warmed it into life; + Thy breath called forth the passion-flowers, that slumbered + 'neath the ice + Of self-distrust, and now their balm makes earth a _Paradise_. + + Love me, darling, love me! Let thy dreams be all of _me_! + Let waking thoughts be round my path, as mine will cling to thee! + But if--oh, God! it cannot be--but if thou _shouldst_ grow cold + And weary of my jealous love, or think it over-bold-- + + Or if, perchance, some fairer form should charm thy truant eye, + Thou'lt find me _woman_--proud and calm, so leave me--let me die. + I'd not reclaim a wavering heart whose pulse has once grown cold, + To write my name in princely halls, with diamonds and gold. + + So love me, only love me, for I have no world but thee, + And darksome clouds are in my sky--'tis woman's destiny; + But let them frown--I heed them not--no fear can they impart, + If thou art near, with smiles to bend hope's rainbow round my heart. + + + + +THE RIVAL SISTERS. + +AN ENGLISH TRAGEDY OF REAL LIFE. + +BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, AUTHOR OF "THE ROMAN TRAITOR," +"MARMADUKE WYVIL," ETC. + + +It has been gravely stated by an Italian writer of celebrity, that +"the very atrocity of the crimes which are therein committed, proves +that in Italy the growth of man is stronger and more vigorous, and +nearer to the perfect standard of manhood, than in any other country." + +A strange paradox, truly, but not an uningenious--at least for a +native of that "purple land, where law secures not life," who would +work out of the very reproach, an argument of honor to his country. If +it be true, however, that proneness to the commission of unwonted and +atrocious crime is to be held a token of extraordinary vigor--vigor of +nerve, of temperament, of passion, of physical development--in a race +of men, then surely must the Anglo-Norman breed, under all +circumstances of time, place, and climate, be singularly destitute of +all these qualities--nay, singularly frail, effeminate, and +incomplete. + +For it is an undoubted fact, both of the past and present history of +that great and still increasing race, whether limited to the narrow +bounds of the Island Realm which gave it being, or extended to the +boundless breadth of isles, and continents, and oceans, which it has +filled with its arms, its arts, its industry, its language--it is, I +say, an undoubted fact, that those dreadful and sanguinary crimes, +forming a class apart and distinct of themselves, engendered for the +most part by morbid passions, love, lust, jealousy, and revenge, which +are of daily occurrence in the southern countries of, Europe, Asia, +and America, are almost unknown in those happier lands, where English +laws prevail, with English liberty and language. + +It is to this that must be ascribed the fact, that, in the very few +instances where crimes of this nature have occurred in England or +America, the memory of them is preserved with singular pertinacity, +the smallest details handed down from generation to generation, and +the very spots in which they have occurred, howmuchsoever altered or +improved in the course of ages, haunted, as if by an actual presence, +by the horror and the scent of blood; while on the other hand the fame +of ordinary deeds of violence and rapine seems almost to be lost +before the lives of the perpetrators are run out. + +One, and almost, I believe, a singular instance of this kind--for I +would not dignify the brawls and assassinations which have disgraced +some of our southern cities, the offspring of low principles and an +unregulated society, by comparing them to the class of crimes in +question, which imply even in their atrocity a something of perverted +honor, of extravagant affection, or at least of not ignoble +passion--is the well-known Beauchamp tragedy of Kentucky, a tale of +sin and horror which has afforded a theme to the pens of several +distinguished writers, and the details of which are as well known on +the spot at present, as if years had not elapsed since its occurrence. +And this, too, in a country prone above all others, from the migratory +habits of its population, to cast aside all tradition, and to lose +within a very few years the memory of the greatest and most +illustrious events upon the very stage of their occurrence. + +It is not, therefore, wonderful that in England, where the immobility +of the population, the reverence for antiquity, and the great +prevalence of oral tradition, induced probably at first by the want of +letters, cause the memory of even past trifles to dwell for ages in +the breasts of the simple and moral people, any deed of romantic +character, any act of unusual atrocity, any crime prompted by unusual +or extraordinary motives, should become, as it were, part and parcel +of the place wherein it was wrought; that the leaves of the trees +should whisper it to the winds of evening; that the echoes of the +lonely hills should repeat it; that the waters should sigh a burthen +to its strain; and that the very night should assume a deeper shadow, +a more horrid gloom, from the awe of the unforgotten sin. + +I knew a place in my boyhood, thus haunted by the memory of strange +crime; and whether it was merely the terrible romance of the story, or +the wild and gloomy character of the scenery endowed with a sort of +natural fitness to be the theatre of terrible events, or yet again the +union of the two, I know not; but it produced upon my mind a very +powerful influence, amounting to a species of fascination, which +constantly attracted me to the spot, although when there, the weight +of the tradition, and the awe of the scene produced a sense of actual +pain. + +The place to which I allude was but a few miles distant from the +celebrated public school, at which I passed the happiest days of a not +uneventful life, and was within an easy walk of the college limits; so +that when I had attained that favored eminence, known as the sixth +form, which allows its happy occupants to roam the country, free from +the fear of masters, provided only they attend at appointed hours, it +was my frequent habit to stroll away from the noisy playing-fields +through the green hedgerow lanes, or to scull my wherry over the +smooth surface of the silver Thames, toward the scene of dark +tradition; and there to lap myself in thick coming fancies, half sad, +half sweet, yet terrible withal, and in their very terror attractive, +until the call of the homeward rooks, and the lengthened shadows of +the tall trees on the greensward, would warn me that I too must hie me +back with speed, or pay the penalty of undue delay. + +Now, as the story has in itself, apart from the extraneous interest +with which a perfect acquaintance with its localities may have +invested it in my eyes, a powerful and romantic character; as its +catastrophe was no less striking than un-English; and as the passions +which gave rise to it were at once the strongest and the most +general--though rarely prevailing, at least among us Anglo-Normans, to +so fearful an extent--I am led to hope that others may find in it +something that may enchain their attention for a time, though it may +not affect them as it has me with an influence, unchanged by change of +scene, unaltered by the lapse of time, which alters all things. + +I propose, therefore, to relate it, as I heard it first from an old +superannuated follower of the family, which, owning other, though not +fairer demesnes in some distant county, had never more used +Ditton-in-the-Dale as their dwelling place, although well nigh two +centuries had elapsed since the transaction which had scared them away +from their polluted household gods. + +But first, I must describe briefly the characteristics of the scenery, +without which a part of my tale would be hardly comprehensible, while +the remarkable effect produced by the coincidence, if I may so express +myself, between the nature of the deed, and the nature of the place, +would be lost entirely. + +In the first place, then, I must premise that the name of +Ditton-in-the-Dale is in a great measure a misnomer, as the house and +estate which bear that name, are situated on what a visiter would be +at first inclined to call a dead level, but on what is in truth a +small secondary undulation, or hollow, in the broad, flat valley +through which the father of the English rivers, the royal-towered +Thames, pursues, as Gray sang, + + The turf, the flowers, the shades among, + His silver-winding way. + +But so destitute is all that country of any deep or well defined +valleys, much less abrupt glens or gorges, that any hollow containing +a tributary stream, which invariably meanders in slow and sluggish +reaches through smooth, green meadow-land, is dignified with the name +of dale, or valley. The country is, however, so much intersected by +winding lanes, bordered with high straggling white-thorn hedges full +of tall timber trees, is subdivided into so many small fields, all +enclosed with similar fences, and is diversified with so many woods, +and clumps of forest trees, that you lose sight of the monotony of its +surface, in consequence of the variety of its vegetation, and of the +limited space which the eye can comprehend, at any one time. + +The lane by which I was wont to reach the demesne of Ditton, partook +in an eminent degree of this character, being very narrow, winding +about continually without any apparent cause, almost completely +embowered by the tall hawthorn hedges, and the yet taller oaks and +ashes which grew along their lines, making, when in full verdure, +twilight of noon itself, and commanding no view whatever of the +country through which it ran, except when a field-gate, or cart-track +opened into it, affording a glimpse of a lonely meadow, bounded, +perhaps, by a deep wood-side. + +On either hand of this lane was a broad, deep ditch, both of them +quite unlike any other ditches I have ever seen. Their banks were +irregular; and it would seem evident that they had not been dug for +any purposes of fencing or enclosure; and I have sometimes imagined, +from their varying width and depth--for in places they were ten feet +deep, and three times as broad, and at others but a foot or two +across, and containing but a few inches of water--that their beds had +been hollowed out to get marl or gravel for the convenience of the +neighboring cultivators. + +Be this as it may, they were at all times brimful of the clearest and +most transparent water I ever remember to have seen--never turbid even +after the heaviest rains; and though bordered by water-flags, and +tapestried in many places by the broad, round leaves of the white and +yellow water-lilies, never corrupted by a particle of floating scum, +or green duckweed. + +Whether they were fed by secret springs I know not; or whether they +communicated by sluices or side-drains with the neighboring Thames; I +never could discover any current or motion in their still, glassy +waters, though I have wandered by their banks a hundred times, +watching the red-finned roach and silvery dace pursue each other among +the shadowy lily leaves, now startling a fat yellow frog from the +marge, and following him as he dived through the limpid blackness to +the very bottom, now starting in my own turn, as a big water-rat would +swim from side to side, and vanish in some hole of the marly bank, and +now endeavoring to catch the great azure-bodied, gauze-winged +dragon-flies, as they shot to and fro on their poised wings, pursuing +kites of the insect race, some of the smaller ephemera. + +It was those quiet, lucid waters, coupled with the exceeding shadiness +of the trees, and its very unusual solitude--I have walked it, I +suppose, from end to end at least a hundred times, and I never +remember to have met so much even as a peasant returning from his +daily labor, or a country maiden tripping to the neighboring +town--that gave its character, and I will add, its charm to this half +pastoral, half sylvan lane. For nearly three miles it ran in one +direction, although, as I have said, with many devious turns, and +seemingly unnecessary angles, and through that length it did not pass +within the sound of one farm-yard, or the sight of one cottage +chimney. But to make up for this, of which it was, indeed, a +consequence, the nightingales were so bold and familiar that they +might be heard all day long filling the air with their delicious +melodies, not waiting, as in more frequented spots, the approach of +night, whose dull ear to charm with amorous ravishment; nay, I have +seen them perched in full view on the branches, gazing about them +fearless with their full black eyes, and swelling their emulous +throats in full view of the spectator. + +Three miles passed, the lane takes a sudden turn to the northward, +having previously run, for the most part, east and west; and here, in +the inner angle, jutting out suddenly from a dense thicket of +hawthorns and hazels, an old octagonal summer-house, with a roof +shaped like an extinguisher, projects into the ditch, which here +expands into a little pool, some ten or twelve yards over in every +direction, and perhaps deeper than at any other point of its course. + +Beyond the summer-house there is a little esplanade of green turf, +faced with a low wall toward the ditch, allowing the eye to run down a +long, narrow avenue of gigantic elm-trees, meeting at the top in the +perfect semblance of a Gothic aisle, and bordered on each hand by +hedges of yew, six feet at least in height, clipped into the form and +almost into the solidity of a wall. At the far end of this avenue, +which must be nearly two-thirds of a mile in length, one can discern a +glimpse of a formal garden, and beyond that, of some portion of what +seems to be a large building of red brick. + +At the extremity of the esplanade and little wall, there grows an +enormous oak, not very tall, but with an immense girth of trunk, and +such a spread of branches that it completely overshadows the +summer-house, and overhangs the whole surface of the small pool in +front of it. Thenceforth, the tall and tangled hedge runs on, as usual +denying all access of the eye, and the deep, clear ditch all access of +the foot, to the demesnes within; until at the distance of perhaps a +mile and a quarter, a little bridge crosses the latter, and a green +gate, with a pretty rustic lodge beside it, gives entrance to a smooth +lawn, with a gravel-road running across it, and losing itself on the +farther side, in a thick belt of woodland. + +It is, however, with the summer-house that I have to do principally, +for it is to it that the terror of blood has clung through the lapse +of years, as the scent of the Turkish Atar is said to cling, +indestructible, to the last fragment of the vessel which had once +contained it. + +When first I saw that small lonely pavilion, I had heard nothing of +the strange tradition which belonged to it, yet as I looked on the +plastered walls, all covered with spots of damp and mildew, on the +roof overrun with ivy, in masses so wildly luxuriant as almost to +conceal the shape, on the windows, one in each side of the octagon, +closed by stout jalousies, which had been once green with paint, but +were now green with damp and vegetable mould, a strange feeling, half +of curiosity and half of terror, came over me, mixed with that +singular fascination of which I have spoken, which seemed to deny me +any rest until I should have searched out the mystery--for I felt sure +that mystery there was--connected with that summer-house, so desolate +and so fast lapsing into ruin, while the hedges and gardens within +appeared well cared for, and in trim cultivation. + +I well remember the first time I beheld that lonely and deserted +building. It was near sunset, on as lovely a summer evening as ever +shed its soft light on the earth; the air was breathless; the sky +cloudless; thousands of swallows were upon the wing, some skimming the +limpid surface of those old ditches, others gliding on balanced +pinions so far aloft in the darkening firmament that the eye could +barely discern them. + +The nightingales were warbling their rich, melancholy notes from every +brake and thicket; the bats had come forth and were flitting to and +fro on their leathern wings under the dark trees; but the brilliant +dragon-flies, and all the painted tribe of butterflies had vanished +already, and another race, the insects of the night, had taken their +places. + +The rich scent of the new-mown hay loaded the air with fragrance, and +vied with the odors of the eglantine and honeysuckle, which, increased +by the falling dew, steamed up like incense to the evening skies. + +I was alone, and thoughtful; for the time although sweet and +delicious, had nothing in it gay or joyous; the lane along which I was +strolling was steeped in the fast increasing shadows, for although the +air aloft was full of sunshine, and the topmost leaves of the tall +ashes shimmered like gold in the late rays, not a single beam +penetrated the thick hedgerows, or fell upon the sandy horse-road. The +water in the deep ditches looked as black as night, and the plunge of +the frogs into their cool recesses startled the ear amid the solitude +and stillness of the place. + +It was one of those evenings, in a word, which calls up, we know not +why, a train of thought not altogether sad, nor wholly tender, but +calm and meditative and averse to action. I had been wandering along +thus for nearly an hour, musing deeply all the while, yet perfectly +unconscious that I was musing, much more what was the subject of my +meditations, when coming suddenly to the turn of the lane, the old +summer-house met my eyes, and almost startled me, so little did I +expect in that place to see any thing that should recall to my mind +the dwellings or the vicinity of man. + +The next minute I began to scrutinize, and to wonder--for it was +evident that this building must be an appendage to the estate of some +gentleman or person of degree, and, knowing all the families of note +in that neighborhood, I was well assured that no one dwelt here of +sufficient position to be the owner of what appeared at first sight to +be a noble property. + +Anxious as I was, however, to effect my entrance into that enchanted +ground, I could discover no means of doing so; for the depth of the +water effectually cut off all access to the hedgerow banks, even if +there had been any prospect of forcing a passage through the tangled +thorn-bushes beyond. Before I could find any solution to my problem, +the fast thickening shadows admonished me that I must beat my retreat; +and it was only by dint of redoubled speed that I reached college in +time to escape the consequences of absence from roll-call. + +An early hour of the evening found me at my post on the following day; +for having a direct object now in view, I wasted no time on the road, +and the sun was still some distance above the horizon, when I reached +the summer-house. + +It had been my hope, as I went along, that I might find some shallow +spot, with a corresponding gap in the hedge, before reaching the +place, by means of which I might turn the defences, and take the enemy +in the rear; but it was all in vain; and I came upon the ground +without discovering any opening by which an animal larger than a rat +could enter the forbidden ground. + +Difficulty, it is well known, heightens desire; and, if I wished +before, I was now determined that I would get in. Quickening my pace, +I set off at a smart run to reconnoitre the defences beyond, but +having found nothing that favored my plans, in some half mile or so, I +again returned, now bent on forcing my way, even if I should be +compelled to undress, and swim across the pool to the further side. + +Before having recourse to this last step, however, I reconnoitered my +ground somewhat more narrowly than before, and soon discovered that +one of the main limbs of the great oak shot quite across the pool, and +extended some little distance on my side over terra firma. + +It is true that the nearer extremity of the branch was rather of the +slenderest, to support the weight even of a boy, and that the lowest +point was a foot or two above my head. But what of that? I was young +and active in those days, and somewhat bold withal; and without a +spice of danger, where were the pleasure or excitement of adventure? + +It did not take me long to make up my mind, and before I had well +thought of the risk, I had swung myself up into the branches, and was +creeping, with even less difficulty than I had anticipated, along the +great gnarled bough above the mirrored pool. + +Danger, in fact, there was none; for slender as the extremities +appeared, they were tough English oak, and the parent branch once +gained, would have supported the weight of Otus and Ephialtes, and all +their giant crew, much more of one slight Etonian. + +In five minutes, or less, I had reached the fork of the trunk, and, +swarming down on the further side, stood in the full fruition of my +hopes, on that enchanted ground. + +It was as I had expected to find it, a singular and gloomy spot; the +tall elm trees which formed the avenue, and the black wall of clipped +yew, which followed their course, diverging to the right and left, +formed a semicircle, the chord of which was the low wall and hawthorn +hedge, the summer-house standing, as I entered, in the angle on my +left hand. + +Although, as I have said, the sun was still high in heaven, the little +area was almost dark already; and it was difficult, indeed, to +conjecture for what end the wisdom of our ancestors had planted a +sun-dial in the centre of the grass-plat, where it seemed physically +impossible that a chance sunbeam should ever strike it, to tell the +hour. + +If it had not been for the narrow open space between the oak tree and +the summer-house, the little lawn would even now have been as black as +night; as it was, a sort of misty-gray twilight, increased, perhaps, +by the thin vapors rising from the tranquil pool, filled all its +precincts; and beyond these, stretching away in long perspective until +the arch at the further end seemed dwindled to the size of a needle's +eye, was the long aisle of gloomy foliage, as massive and impenetrable +to any ray of light as the stone arches of a Gothic cloister. + +The only thing that conveyed an idea of gayety or life, to the cold +and tomb-like scenery, was the glimpse of bright sunshine which lay on +the open garden at the extremity of the elm-walk, with the gaudy and +glowing hues, indistinctly seen in the distance, of some summer +flowers. + +Yet even this was not all unmixed with something of melancholy, for +the contrast of the gay sunbeams and bright flowers only rendered the +gloom more apparent, and like a convent-garden, seemed to awaken +cravings after the joyous world without, diminishing nothing of the +sorrow and monotony within. + +But I was not in those days much given to moralizing, or to the +investigation of my own inward feelings. + +I had come thither to inquire, to see, to learn, to find out +things--not causes. And perceiving at one glance that my first +impression was correct, that the grass-plots were recently mown, the +gravel-walks newly rolled, and spotless of weeds, the tall yew hedges +assiduously clipped into the straightest and most formal lines; that +every thing, in short, displayed the most heedful tendance, the +neatest cultivation, with the exception of the summer-pavilion, which +evidently was devoted to decay, I became but the more satisfied that +there was some mystery, and the more resolute to probe it to the core. + +It was quite clear that when that garden was laid out, and that avenue +planted, how many years ago the giant size of the old elms denoted, +the summer-house was the meaning of the whole design. The avenue had +no object but to lead to it, the little lawn no purpose but to receive +it. Doubly strange, therefore, did it seem that these should be kept +up in all their trimness, that suffered to fall into decay. + +It was the tragedy of Hamlet, with Hamlet's part omitted! + +I stood for a little while wondering, and half overcome by a sort of +indescribable fanciful superstition. A cloud had come over the sun, +the nightingales had ceased to sing, and there was not a sound of any +kind to be heard, except the melancholy murmur of the summer air in +the tree-tops. + +In a moment, however, the transitory spell was shaken off, and, once +more the bold and reckless schoolboy, I turned to the performance of +my self-imposed task. + +The summer-house, as I have said, was octagon, three of its sides, +with a window in each, jutting out into the clear pool, and three, +with a door in the centre, and a window on each side, fronting the +little lawn. But, alas! the windows were all secured with jalousies, +strongly bolted and barred from within, and the door was secured by a +lock, the key of which was absent. + +A short examination showed, however, that the door was held by no +bolts at the top or bottom; and the rusty condition of both lock and +hinges rendered it probable that it would not stand a very violent +assault. + +Wherefore, retreating some twenty paces, I ran at it _more Etonensi_, +at the top of my speed, planted the sole of my foot even and square +against the key-hole, with the whole impetus of my charge, and had the +satisfaction of feeling the door fly open in an instant, while a +jingling clatter within showed that my entrance had been effected with +no greater damage to the premises than the starting of the staple into +which the bolt of the lock shot. + +Having entered thus, my first task was to repair damages, which was +effected in five minutes, by driving the staple into its old place by +aid of a great stone; my second, to provide means for future visits, +which was as speedily managed by driving back the bolt of the lock +with the same great stone; and my third, to look eagerly and curiously +about me. To do this more effectually, I soon opened the two windows +looking upon the lawn, and let in the light, for the first time, I +fancy, in many a year, to that deserted room. + +If I had marveled much before I entered, much more did I marvel now; +for although every thing within showed marks of the utmost negligence +and decay, though spiders had woven their webs in every angle, though +mildew and damp mould had defaced the painted walls, though the +gilding was black and tarnished, though the dust lay thick on the +furniture, still I had never seen any thing in my life, except the +state-rooms at Hampton Court and Windsor Castle, which could have vied +with this pavilion in the splendor of its original decoration. + +Its area was about thirty feet in diameter, and in height nearly the +same, with a domed roof, richly fretted with what had once been golden +scroll-work upon an azure ground. The walls were painted, as even _I_ +could discover, by the hand of a master, with copies from Guido and +Caracci, in compartments bordered with massive gilded scroll-work, the +ground between the panels having been originally, like the ceiling, of +bright azure. The window-frames had been gilded; and the inside of the +door painted, like the walls, in azure, with pictures of high merit in +the panels. Every side of the octagon but two, the opposite walls to +the right and left, were occupied by windows or a door; but that to +the right was filled by a mantel-piece, exquisitely wrought with +Caryatides in white Carrara marble, with a copy of the Aurora above +it, while the space opposite to it had been occupied by a superb +mirror, reaching from the cornice of the ceiling. + +Nearly in the centre of this mirror, however, there was a small +circular fracture, as if made by a stone or a bullet, with long cracks +radiating, like the beams of a star, in all directions over the +shivered plate; and when I looked at it more closely, I observed that +it was dashed in many places with large drops of some dark purple +fluid, which had hardened with time into compact and solid gouts. + +I thought little of this at the time, and only wondered why people +could be so mad as to abandon so beautiful a place; and why, since +they had abandoned it, they did not remove the furniture, of which +even a boy's eye could detect the value. + +There was a centre-table of circular form, the pedestal of which, +curiously carved, had been wrought, like all the rest, in gold and +azure, while the slat, when I had wiped away with some fresh green +leaves the thick layer of dust which covered it, positively astonished +my eyes, by the delicacy and beauty of the designs with which it was +adorned. Beside this, there were divans and arm-chairs of the same +fashion and colors, with cushions which had been once of sky-blue +damask, though their brilliancy, and even their hues, had long ago +been defaced by the dust, the dampness, and the squalor of that +neglected place. + +I should have mentioned, that on the beautiful table I discovered +gouts of the same dark substance which I had previously observed on +the broken mirror: and that there were still clearly perceptible on +one of the divans, dark splashes, and what must, when fluid, have been +almost a pool of the same deep, rusty hue. + +At the time, it is true, I paid little attention to these things, +being busily employed in the boy-like idea of putting my newly +discovered palace of Armida into a complete state of repair, and +coming to pass all my leisure moments, even to the studying my +Prometheus Bound, and composing my weekly hexameters and Alcaics in +this sweet sequestered spot. + +And, in truth, within a week I had put the greater part of my plan +into execution; purloined dusters from my dame's boarding-house, green +boughs of the old elms for brooms, and water from the ditch, soon made +things clean at least; and the air, which I suffered, so long as I was +there, daily, to blow through it in all directions, soon rendered it, +comparatively speaking, dry and comfortable; and when all its windows +were thrown wide, it would be scarcely possible to find a more +lightsome or delicious spot for summer musing than that old English +summer-house. + +Thus things went on for weeks, for months, unsuspected--for I always +latched the door, and secured the windows from within, before leaving +my fairy palace for the night; and as all looked just as usual +without, no one so much as dreamed of trying the lock, to ascertain if +a door were still fastened, the threshhold of which, as men believed, +no human foot had crossed since the days of the second James. + +I could often, it is true, discover the traces of recent labor in the +immediate neighborhood of my discovery; I could perceive at a glance +where the grass had been newly shorn, the yew hedges clipped, or the +gravel-walks rolled, but never, in the course of several months, +during which I spent every fine evening, either reading, or musing, or +composing my boy verses, in that my enchanted castle--for I began +really to consider it almost my own--did I see any human being on the +premises. + +The cause of this, which I did not suspect until it was revealed to +me, after chance had discovered my visits to the place, was simply +this, that my intrusions were confined solely to the evening, +whereas, so great was the awe of the servants and the workmen for that +lonely and terror-haunted spot, that nothing short of absolute +compulsion, or the strongest necessity, would have induced them to go +near the place, after the sun had turned downward from the zenith. + +In the meantime, gratified by the complete success of my first inroad, +and the possession of my first discovery, I felt no inclination to +push my advances further, or to make any incursion into the body of +the place. + +Every evening, as early as I could escape from the college walls, I +was at my post, and lingered there as late as college hours would +permit. It was a strange fancy in a boy, and stranger yet than would +at first appear in this, that there was a very considerable admixture +of something nearly approaching to fear, and that of a painful kind, +in the feelings which made me so assiduous in my visits to that old +pavilion. + +There was, it is true, nothing definite in my fancies. I knew nothing, +I cannot say even that I suspected any thing, concerning the +mysterious closing of the place; and often, since I have been made +acquainted with the tale, I have marveled at my own obtuseness, and +wondered that a secret so transparent should have escaped me. + +So it was, however, that I suspected nothing, although I felt sure +that mystery there was; and being of somewhat an imaginative temper, I +used to amuse myself by accounting for it in my own mind, weaving all +sorts of strange and wild romances, and inventing the most horrible +stories that can be conceived, until, as the shadows would fall dark +around me, daunted by my own conceptions, I would make all secure and +fast with trembling fingers, swing myself back across over the pool by +my accustomed oak-branch, and run home as hard as my legs could carry +me, haunted by indistinct and almost superstitious horror. + +Thus things went on, until at the end of summer I was at last detected +in my stolen visits, and the whole mystery was cleared up. + +I remember as clearly as if I heard it now, the exclamation of terror +and dismay uttered by the old gardener, who, having left some +implement behind him on the lawn during the morning labors, had been +forced to bend his unwilling steps back to the haunted ground to +recover it. + +I could not but smile afterward, when he recounted to me his +astonishment and terror at seeing the old summer-house, which never +had been opened within the memory of man, with all its windows wide to +the free air and evening sunshine--when he told me how often he turned +back to seek aid from his fellows--how he almost believed that fiends +or evil spirits were holding their foul sabbath there, and how he +started aghast with horror, not now for himself, but for me, as he +beheld the young Etonian stretched tranquilly upon the blood-stained +couch--for those dark stains were of human gore--conning his task for +the morrow. + +I rushed out of the place at his hurried outcry; a few words told my +story, and plead my excuse--with the good, simple-minded rustic little +excuse was needed--but it was not till after many sittings, and many a +long afternoon's discourse, that I learned all the details of the sad +event which had converted that fair pavilion into a place as terrible, +to the ideas of the country folks, as a dark charnel-vault. + +"Ay!" said the old man, as he gazed fearfully about him, after I had +persuaded him at length to cross the dreaded threshhold, "Ay! it is +all as they tell, though not a man of them has ever seen it. There is +the glass which the bullet broke, after passing right through his +brain; and there is his blood, all spattered on the mirror. And look, +young master, those spots on the table came from _her_ heart; and that +couch you was lying on, is where they laid her when they took her up. +See, it's all dabbled yet; and where your head was resting now, the +dead girl's head lay, more than a hundred years since! Come away, +master--come away! I never thought to have looked on these things, +though I know all about them." + +"Oh, tell me--tell me about them!" I exclaimed. "I am not a bit +afraid. Do tell me all about them." + +"Not now--not now--nor not here," said the old man, gazing about as if +he expected to see a spirit stalk out of some shady nook of the +surrounding trees. "I would not tell you here to be master of all +Ditton-in-the-Dale! But come up, if you will, to the great house +to-morrow, and ask for old Matthew Dawson, and I'll show you all the +place--the family never lives here now, nor hasn't since that deed was +done--and then I'll tell you all about it, if you must hear. But if +you're wise, you'll shun it; for it will chill your young blood to +listen, and cling to your young heart with a gloom forever." + +"Oh, I will come, be sure, Matthew! I would not miss it for the world. +But it is getting late, so I'll fasten up the old place, and be +going;" and suiting the action to the word, I soon secured the +fastenings, while the old gardener stood by, marvelling and muttering +at the boldness of young blood, until I had finished setting things in +order, when I shook hands with the old man, slipping my _one_ half +crown into his horny palm, and saying, + +"Well, good night, Matthew Dawson, and don't forget to-morrow +evening." + +"That I wont, master," he replied, greatly propitiated by my offering. +"But which way are you going?" + +"Oh, I'll soon show you," I replied; and swinging myself up my tree, I +was beyond the precincts of the haunted ground almost in a moment. + +"The very way _he_ came the time he did it," cried the old gardener, +with upturned hands, and eyes aghast. But I tarried then to ask no +further questions, being quite sufficiently terrified for one night; +although my pride forbade my displaying my terrors to the old rustic. + +The next day I was punctual to my appointment; and then, for the first +time, I heard the melancholy tale which, at length, I purpose to +relate. + +It was a proud and noble Norman family which had held the demesnes of +Ditton-in-the-Dale, since the reign of the last Plantagenet--a brave +and loyal race, which had poured its blood like water on many a +foreign, many a native battle-field. At Evesham, a Fitz-Henry had +fought beside Prince Edward's bridle-rein, against the great De +Montfort, and his confederate barons; and afterward through all the +long and cruel wars of the Roses, on every field a Fitz-Henry had won +honor or lost blood, upholding the claims of the true sovereign +house--the house of York--until at fatal Bosworth the house itself +went down, and dragged down with it the fortunes of its bold +supporters. + +Thereafter, during the reign of the Tudors, the name of Fitz-Henry was +heard rarely in the court, or on the field; impoverished in fortune by +fines and sequestrations, suspected of disloyalty to the now sovereign +house, the heads of the family had wisely held themselves aloof from +intrigue and conspiracy, and dwelt among their yeomen, who had in old +times been their fathers' vassals, stanch lovers of field-sports, true +English country gentlemen, seeking the favor and fearing the ill-will +of no man--no, not of England's king. + +Attached to the old religion, though neither bigots nor zealots, they +had escaped the violence of bluff Harry, when he turned Protestant for +Bullen's eyes; and had, though something to leeward of her favor, as +lukewarm Romanists and no lovers of the Spaniard, passed safely +through the ordeal of Mary's cruel reign. + +But with the accession of the man-minded Elizabeth, the fortunes of +the house revived for a while. It was the policy of that great and +gracious queen to gather around her all that were brave, honest, and +manly in her realm, without regard to family creeds, or family +traditions. Claiming descent as much from one as from the other of the +rival houses of Lancaster and York, loyalty to the one was no more +offence to her clear eyes than good faith to the other. While loyalty +to what he honestly believed to be the true sovereign house, was the +strongest recommendation to her favor in each and every subject. + +The Fitz-Henry, therefore, of her day, a young and gallant soldier, +who visited the shores of the New World with Cavendish and Raleigh, +fought for his native land, although a Catholic, against the terrible +armada of the Most Catholic King, with Drake, and Frobisher and +Howard, waged war in the Low Countries, and narrowly missed death at +Tutphen by Philip Sidney's side, stood as high in the favor of his +queen as in the estimation of all good and honorable men. It is true, +when the base and odious James succeeded to the throne of the +lion-queen, and substituted mean and loathsome king-craft for frank +and open English policy, the gray-haired soldier, navigator, +statesman--for he had shone in each capacity--retired, as his +ancestors had done before him, during the reigns of the seventh and +eighth Henrys, to the peaceful shades and innocent pleasures of +Ditton-in-the-Dale. + +So true, however, was he to the time-honored principles of his high +race, so loyally did he bring up his son, so firmly did he strengthen +his youthful mind with all maxims, and all laws of honor, linking the +loyal subject to the rightful king, that no sooner had the troubles +broken out between the misguided monarch and his rebellious +Parliament--although the veteran of Elizabeth had fallen asleep long +before, full of years and honors--than his young heir, Osborn +Fitz-Henry, displayed the cognizance of his old house, mustered his +tenantry, and set foot in stirrup, well nigh the first, to withdraw it +the very last, of the adherents of the hapless Charles. So long did he +resist in arms, so pertinaciously did he uphold the authority of the +first Charles, so early did he rise again in behalf of the second, +that he was noted by the Parliament as an incorrigible and most +desperate malignant; and, had it not been that, by his gallantry in +the field, and his humanity when the strife was ended, he had won the +personal good-will of Cromwell, it is most likely that it would have +gone hard with his fortunes if not with his life. + +After the restoration, he was of course neglected by the fiddling, +gambling, wenching, royal buffoon, who succeeded the royal martyr, and +whose necessities he had supplied, when an outcast pauper exile in a +foreign land, from the proceeds of those very estates which he had so +nearly lost in fighting for his crown. + +Osborn Fitz-Henry, too, was gathered to his fathers. He died little +advanced beyond the prime of life, worn out with the toil he had +undergone in the camp, and shattered by the wounds which he had +received on almost every battle-field from Edge-Hill to Dunbar and +Worcester. + +He had, however, married very young, before the breaking out of the +rebellion, and had lived to see not his son only a noble and superior +man, ready to fill his place when vacant, and in it uphold the honor +of his family, but his son's children also advancing fast toward +maturity. + +Allan Fitz-Henry, the son of Charles' stout partisan, the grandson of +Elizabeth's warrior, was the head of the house, when my tale +commences. + +He, too, had married young--such, indeed, was the custom of his +house--and had survived his wife, by whom he had two fair daughters, +but no heir; and this was a source of vexation so constantly present +to his mind, that in the end it altered the whole disposition of the +man, rendering him irritable, harsh, stern, unreasonable, and unhappy. + +Fondly attached to the memory of his lost wife, whom he had loved +devotedly while living, it never entered his mind to marry a second +time, even with the hope of begetting an heir by whom to perpetuate +the honors and principles of his house; although he was continually on +the fret--miserable himself, and making others miserable, in +consequence of the certainty that he should be the last of his race. + +His only hope was now centered in his daughters, or to speak more +correctly, in his eldest daughter--for her he had determined to +constitute his heiress, endowing her with all his landed property, all +his heirlooms, all that could constitute her the head of his house; in +return for which he had predetermined that she should become the wife +of some husband of his own choosing, who should unite to a pedigree +as noble as that of the Howards, all qualifications which should fit +him to represent the house into which he should be adopted; and who +should be willing to drop his own paternal name and bearings, how +ancient and noble soever, in order to adopt the style and the arms of +Fitz-Henry. + +Proud by nature, by blood, and by education--though with a clear and +honorable pride--he had been rendered a thousand times prouder and +more haughty by the very circumstances which seemed to threaten a +downfall to the fortunes of his house--his house, which had survived +such desperate reverses; which had come out of every trial, like pure +gold, the better and the brighter from the furnace--his house, which +neither the ruin of friendly monarchs, nor the persecutions of hostile +monarchs, nor the neglect of ungrateful monarchs, had been able to +shake, any more than the autumnal blasts, or the frosts of winter, had +availed to uproot the oak trees of his park, coeval with his name. + +In the midst of health and wealth, honor and good esteem, with an +affectionate family, and a devoted household around him, Allan +Fitz-Henry fancied himself a most unhappy man--perhaps the most +unhappy of mankind. + +Alas! was it to punish such vain, such sinful, such senseless, and +inordinate repinings? + +Who shall presume to scrutinize the judgments, or pry into the secrets +of the Inscrutable? + +This much alone is certain, that ere he was gathered to his fathers, +Allan Fitz-Henry might, and that not unjustly, have termed himself +that, which now, in the very wantonness of pampered and insatiate +success he swore that he was daily--the most unhappy of the sons of +men. + +For to calamities so dreadful as might have disturbed the reason of +the strongest minded, remorse was added, so just, so terrible, so +overwhelming, that men actually marveled how he lived on and was not +insane. + +But I must not anticipate. + +It was a short time after the failure of the Duke of Monmouth's weak +and ungrateful attempt at revolution, a short time after the +conclusion of the merciless and bloody butcheries of that disgrace to +the English ermine, the ferocious Jefferies, that the incidents +occurred, which I learned first on the evening subsequent to my +discovery in the fatal summer-house. + +At this time Allan Fitz-Henry--it was a singular proof, by the way, of +the hereditary pride of this old Norman race, that having numbered +among them so many friends and counsellors of monarchs, no one of +their number had been found willing to accept titular honors, holding +it a higher thing to be the premier gentleman than the junior peer of +England--At this time, I say, Allan Fitz-Henry was a man of some +forty-five or fifty years, well built and handsome, of courtly air and +dignified presence; nor must it be imagined that in his fancied +grievances he forgot to support the character of his family, or that +he carried his griefs abroad with him into the world. + +At times, indeed, he might be a little grave and thoughtful, +especially at such times as he heard mention made of the promise or +success of this or that scion of some noble house; but it was only +within his own family circle, and to his most familiar friends, that +he was wont to open his heart, and complain of his ill-fortune, at +being the first childless father of his race--for so, in his contempt +for the poor girls, whom he still, strange contradiction! loved fondly +and affectionately, he was accustomed in his dark hours to style +himself; as if forsooth an heir male were the only offspring worthy to +be called the child of such a house. + +Though he was fond, and gentle, and at times even tender to his +motherless daughters--for, to do him justice, he never suffered a +symptom of his disappointment and disgust to break out to their +annoyance, yet was there no gleam of paternal satisfaction in his sad +eye, no touch of paternal pride in his vexed heart, as he looked upon +their graceful forms, and noted their growing beauties. + +And yet they were a pair of whom the haughtiest potentate on earth +might have been proud, and with justice. + +Blanche and Agnes Fitz-Henry were at this time in their eighteenth and +seventeenth years--but one summer having passed between their births, +and their mother having died within a few hours after the latter saw +the light. + +They were, indeed, as lovely girls as the sun of merry England shone +upon; and in those days it was still _merry_ England, and famous then +as now for the rare beauty of its women, whether in the first dawn of +girlhood, or in the full-blown flush of feminine maturity. + +Both tall, above the middle height of women, both exquisitely formed, +with figures delicate and slender, yet full withal, and voluptuously +rounded, with the long taper hands, the small and shapely feet and +ankles, the swan-like necks, and classic heads gracefully set on, +which are held to denote, in all countries, the predominance of gentle +blood; when seen at a distance, and judged by the person only, it +would have been almost impossible to distinguish the elder from the +younger sister. + +But look upon them face to face, and never, in all respects, were two +girls of kindred race so entirely dissimilar. The elder, Blanche, was, +as her name denotes, though ladies' names are oftentimes misnomers, a +genuine English blonde. Her abundant and beautiful hair, trained to +float down upon her snowy shoulders in silky masses of unstudied +curls, was of the lightest golden brown. There was not a shade of red +in its hues, although her complexion was of that peculiarly dazzling +character which is common to red-haired persons; yet when the sun +shone on its glistening waves, so brilliantly did the golden light +flash from it, that you might almost have imagined there was a circlet +of living glory above her clear white brow. + +Her eyebrows and eyelashes were many shades darker than her hair, +relieving her face altogether from that charge of insipidity which is +so often, and for the most part so truly, brought against fair-haired +and fair-featured beauties. The eyes themselves, which those long +lashes shrouded, were of the deepest violet blue; so deep, that at +first sight you would have deemed them black, but for the soft and +humid languor which is never seen in eyes of that color. The rest of +her features were as near as possible to the Grecian model, except +that there was a slight depression where the nose joins the brow, +breaking that perfectly straight line of the classical face, which, +however beautiful to the statue, is less attractive in life than the +irregular outline of the northern countenance. + +Her mouth, with the exception of--perhaps I should rather say in +conjunction with--her eyes, was the most lovely and expressive feature +in her face. There were twin dimples at its corners; yet was not its +expression one of habitual mirth, but of tenderness and softness +rather, unmixed, although an anchorite might have been pardoned the +wish to press his lips to its voluptuous curve, with the slightest +expression of sensuality. + +Her complexion was, as I have said, dazzlingly brilliant; but it was +the brilliance of the lily rather than of the rose, though at the +least emotion, whether of pain or pleasure, the eloquent blood would +rush, like the morning's glow over some snow-crowned Alp, across +cheek, brow, and neck, and bosom, and vanish thence so rapidly, that +ere you should have time to say, nay, even to think, + + "Look! look how beautiful, 't was fled." + +Such was the elder beauty, the destined heiress of the ancient house, +the promised mother of a line of sons, who should perpetuate the name +and hand down the principles of the Fitz-Henries to far distant ages. +Such were the musings of her father, + + Proh! coeca mens mortalium! + +and at such times alone, if ever, a sort of doubtful pride would come +to swell his hope, whispering that for such a creature, no man, +however high or haughty, but would be willing to renounce the pride of +birth, even untempted by the demesnes of Ditton-in-the-Dale, and many +another lordly manor coupled to the time-honored name of Fitz-Henry. + +Her sister, Agnes, though not less beautiful than Blanche--and there +were those who insisted that she was more so--was as different from +her, in all but the general resemblance of figure and carriage, as +night is from morning, or autumn from early summer-time. + +Her ringlets, not less profuse than Blanche's, and clustering in +closer and more mazy curls, were as black as the raven's wing, and, +like the feathers of the wild bird, were lighted up when the sun +played on them with a sort of purplish and metallic gloss, that defies +alike the pen of the writer, and the painter's pencil to depict to the +eye. + +Her complexion, though soft and delicate, was of the very darkest hue +that is ever seen in persons of unmixed European blood; so dark that +the very blood which would mantle to her cheek at times in burning +blushes, was shaded, as it were, with a darker hue, like damask roses +seen through the medium of a gold-tinted window-pane. + +Her brows and lashes were as black as night, but, strange to say, the +eyes that flashed from beneath them with an almost painful splendor, +were of a clear, deep azure, less dark than those of the fairer +sister, giving a singular and wild character to her whole face, and +affecting the style of her beauty, but whether for the better or the +worse it was for those who admired or shunned--and there were who took +both parts--to determine. Her face was rounder and fuller than her +sister's, and, in fact, this was true of her whole person--so much so +that she was often mistaken for the elder--her features were less +regular, her nose having a slight tendency to that form which has no +name in our language, but which charmed all beholders in Roxana, as +_retroussie_. Her mouth was as warm, as soft, as sweetly dimpled, but +it was not free from that expression which Blanche's lacked +altogether, and might have been blamed as too wooing and luxurious. + +Such were the various characters of the sisters' personal +appearance--the characters of their mental attributes were as +distinctly marked, and as widely different. + +Blanche was all gentleness and moderation from her very cradle--a +delicate and tender child, smiling always, but rarely laughing; never +boisterous or loud even in her childish plays. And as she grew older, +this character became more definite, and was more strongly observed; +she was a pensive, tranquil creature, not melancholy, much less +sad--for she was awake to all that was beautiful or grand, all that +was sweet or gentle in the face of nature, or in the history of man; +and there was, perhaps, more real happiness concealed under her calm +exterior, than is often to be found under the wilder mirth of merrier +beings. Ever ready to yield her wishes to those of her friends or +companions, many persons imagined that she had little will, and no +fixed wishes, or deliberate aspirations--passionless and pure as the +lily of the vale, many supposed that she was cold and heartless. Oh! +ignorant! not to remember that the hearts of the fiercest volcanos +boil still beneath a head of snow; and that it is even in the calmest +and most moderate characters that passion once enkindled burns fierce, +perennial and unquenchable! Thus far, however, had she advanced into +the flower of fair maidenhood, undisturbed by any warmer dream than +devoted affection toward her parent, whose wayward grief she could +understand if she could not appreciate, and whom she strove by every +gentle wile to wean from his morbid fancies; and earnest love toward +her sister, whom she, indeed, almost adored--perhaps adored the more +from the very difference of their minds, and for her very +imperfections. + +For Agnes was all gay vivacity, and petulance, and fire--so that her +young companions, who sportively named Blanche the icicle, had +christened her the sunbeam; and, in truth, if the first name were ill +chosen, the second seemed to be an inspiration; for like a sunbeam +that touched nothing but to illuminate it, like a sunbeam she played +with all things, smiled on all things in their turn--like a sunbeam +she brought mirth with her presence, and after her departure, left a +double gloom behind her. + +More dazzling than Blanche, she made her impression at first sight, +and so long as the skies were clear, and the atmosphere unruffled, the +sunbeam would continue to gild, to charm, to be worshiped. But if the +time of darkness and affliction came, the gay sunbeam held aloof, +while the poor icicle, melted from its seeming coldness, was ever +ready to weep for the sorrows of those who had neglected her in the +days of their happiness. + +Unused to yield, high-spirited when crossed, yet carrying off even her +stubbornness and quick temper by the brilliancy, the wit, the lively +and bold audacity which she cast around them, Agnes ruled in her +circle an imperious and despotic queen; while her slaves, even as they +trembled before her half sportive but emphatic frown, did not suspect +the sceptre of the tyrant beneath the spell of the enchantress. + +Agnes, in one word, was the idol of the rich and gay; Blanche was the +saint of the poor, the lowly, the sick, and those who mourn. + +It may be that the peculiarity of her position, the neglect which she +had always experienced from her father, and mediately from the +hirelings of the household, ever prompt to pander to the worst +feelings of their superiors--the consciousness that born co-heiress +with her sister, she was doomed to sink into the insignificance of an +undowered and uncared-for girl, had tended in some degree to form the +character which Agnes had ever borne, and which alone she had +displayed, until the period when my tale commences. + +It may be that the consciousness of wrong endured, had hardened a +heart naturally soft and tender, and rendered it unyielding and +rebellious--it may be that injustice, endured at the hands of +hirelings in early years, had engendered a spirit of resistance, and +armed her mind and quickened her tongue against the world, which, as +she fancied, wronged her. It may be, more than all, that a secret, +perhaps an unconscious jealousy of her sister's superior advantages, +not in the wretched sense of worldly wealth or position, but of the +love and reverence of friends and kindred, had embittered her young +soul, and caused her to cast over it a veil of light and wild +demeanor, of free speech, and daring mirth, which had by degrees grown +into habits, and become part and parcel of her nature. + +If it were so, however, there were no outward indications that such +was the case; for never were there seen two sisters more united and +affectionate--nor would it have been easy to say on which side the +balance of kindness preponderated. For if Blanche was ever the first +to cede to her sister's wishes, and the last, in any momentary +disappointment or annoyance, to speak one quick or unkind word, so was +Agnes, with her expressive features, and flashing eye, and ready, +tameless wit, prompt as light to avenge the slightest reflection cast +on Blanche's tranquillity and coldness; and if at times a quick word +or sharp retort broke from her lips, and called a tear to the eye of +her calmer sister, not a moment would elapse before she would cast +herself upon her neck and weep her sincere contrition, and be for +hours an altered being; until her natural spirit would prevail, and +she would be again the wild, mirthful madcap, whose very faults could +call forth no keener reproach than a grave and thoughtful smile from +the lips of those who loved her the most dearly. + +Sad were the daughters of Allan Fitz-Henry--daughters whom not a peer +in England but would have regarded as the brightest gems of his +coronets, as the pride and ornament of his house; but whom, by a +strange anomaly, their own father, full as he was of warm affections, +and kindly inclinations, never looked upon but with a secret feeling +of discontent and disappointment, that they were not other than they +were: and with a half confessed conviction, that fair as they were, +tender, and loving, graceful, accomplished, delicate and noble-minded, +he could have borne to lay them both in the cold grave, so that a son +could be given to the house, in exchange for their lost loveliness. + +In outward demeanor, however, he was to his children all that a father +should be; a little querulous at times, perhaps, and irritable, but +fond, though not doting, and considerate; and I have wandered greatly +from my intention, if any thing that I have said has been construed to +signify that there existed the slightest estrangement between the +father and his children--for had Allan Fitz-Henry but suspected the +possibility of such a thing, he had torn the false pride, like a +venomous weed, from his heart, and had been a wiser and a happier man. +In his case it was the blindness of the heart that caused its partial +hardness; but events were at hand, that should flood it with the +clearest light, and melt it to more than woman's tenderness. + +[_To be continued._ + + + + +SONNET TO GRAHAM. + + +On, in thy mission! 'T is a holy power + That which thou wieldest o'er a people's heart: +And wastes of mind, that never knew a flower, + Bloom now and brighten, 'neath thy magic art. +Hearthstones are cheerful that were chill before; + And softened beams, like light that melteth through +The stained glass of old cathedrals, pour + Stream upon stream of beauty. All that's true, +All that is brave and beautiful, 't is thine-- + High office, high and holy! thus to shed, +Sun-like, and sole, in shadow or in shine, + Thoughts that bedew and rouse minds cold and dead, +Startling the pulse that stirred not. This is thine! +Be proudly humble: 't is a power divine! + + _New Orleans, October_ 1, 1847. ALTUS. + + + + +MARGINALIA + +BY EDGAR A. POE. + +We mere men of the world, with no principle--a very old-fashioned and +cumbersome thing--should be on our guard lest, fancying him on his +last legs, we insult, or otherwise maltreat some poor devil of a +genius at the very instant of his putting his foot on the top round of +his ladder of triumph. It is a common trick with these fellows, when +on the point of attaining some long-cherished end, to sink themselves +into the deepest possible abyss of seeming despair, for no other +purpose than that of increasing the space of success through which +they have made up their minds immediately to soar. + + * * * * * + +All that the man of genius demands for his exaltation is moral matter +in motion. It makes no difference _whither_ tends the motion--whether +for him or against him--and it is absolutely of _no_ consequence +"_what_ is the matter." + + * * * * * + +In Colton's "American Review" for October, 1845, a gentleman, well +known for his scholarship, has a forcible paper on "The Scotch School +of Philosophy and Criticism." But although the paper is "forcible," it +presents the most singular admixture of error and truth--the one +dovetailed into the other, after a fashion which is novel, to say the +least of it. Were I to designate in a few words what the whole article +demonstrated, I should say "the folly of not beginning at the +beginning--of neglecting the giant Moulineau's advice to his friend +Ram." Here is a passage from the essay in question: + + "The Doctors [Campbell and Johnson] both charge + Pope with error and inconsistency:--error in + supposing that _in English_, of metrical lines + unequal in the number of syllables and pronounced + in equal times, the longer suggests celerity (this + being the principle of the + Alexandrine:)--inconsistency, in that Pope himself + uses the same contrivance to convey the contrary + idea of slowness. But why in English? It is not and + cannot be disputed that, in the Hexameter verse of + the Greeks and Latins--which is the model in this + matter--what is distinguished as the 'dactylic + line' was uniformly applied to express velocity. + How was it to do so? Simply from the fact of being + pronounced in an equal time with, while containing + a greater number of syllables or 'bars' than the + ordinary or average measure; as, on the other hand, + the spondaic line, composed of the minimum number, + was, upon the same principle, used to indicate + slowness. So, too, of the Alexandrine in English + versification. No, says Campbell, there is a + difference: the Alexandrine is not in fact, like + the dactylic line, pronounced in the common time. + But does this alter the principle? What is the + rationale of Metre, whether the classical hexameter + or the English heroic?" + +I have written an essay on the "Rationale of Verse," in which the +whole topic is surveyed _ab initio_, and with reference to general and +immutable principles. To this essay (which will soon appear) I refer +Mr. Bristed. In the meantime, without troubling myself to ascertain +whether Doctors Johnson and Campbell are wrong, or whether Pope is +wrong, or whether the reviewer is right or wrong, at this point or at +that, let me succinctly state what is _the truth_ on the topics at +issue. + +And first; the same principles, in _all_ cases, govern _all_ verse. +What is true in English is true in Greek. + +Secondly; in a series of lines, if one line contains more syllables +than the law of the verse demands, and if, nevertheless, this line is +pronounced in the same time, upon the whole, as the rest of the lines, +then this line suggests celerity--on account of the increased rapidity +of enunciation required. Thus in the Greek Hexameter the dactylic +lines--those most abounding in dactyls--serve best to convey the idea +of rapid motion. The spondaic lines convey that of slowness. + +Thirdly; it is a gross mistake to suppose that the Greek dactylic +line is 'the model in this matter'--the matter of the English +Alexandrine. The Greek dactylic line is of the same number of +feet--bars--beats--pulsations--as the ordinary dactylic-spondaic lines +among which it occurs. But the Alexandrine is longer by one foot--by +one pulsation--than the pentameters among which it arises. For its +pronunciation it demands _more time_, and therefore, _ceteris +paribus_, it would well serve to convey the impression of length, or +duration, and thus, indirectly, of slowness. I say _ceteris paribus_. +But, by varying conditions, we can effect a total change in the +impression conveyed. When the idea of slowness is conveyed by the +Alexandrine, it is not conveyed by any slower enunciation of +syllables--that is to say, it is not _directly_ conveyed--but +indirectly, through the idea of _length_ in the whole line. Now, if we +wish to convey, by means of an Alexandrine, the impression of +velocity, we readily do so by giving rapidity to our enunciation of +the syllables composing the several feet. To effect this, however, we +must have _more_ syllables, or we shall get through the whole line too +quickly for the intended time. To get more syllables, all we have to +do, is to use, in place of iambuses, what our prosodies call +anapoests.[1] Thus, in the line, + + Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main, + +the syllables '_the unbend_' form an anapoest and, demanding unusual +rapidity of enunciation, in order that we may get them in in the +ordinary time of an iambus, serve to suggest celerity. By the elision +of _e_ in _the_, as is customary, the whole of the intended effect is +lost; for _th'unbend_ is nothing more than the usual iambus. In a +word, wherever an Alexandrine expresses celerity, we shall find it to +contain one or more anapoests--the more anapoests, the more decided +the impression. But the tendency of the Alexandrine consisting merely +of the usual iambuses, is to convey slowness--although it conveys this +idea feebly, on account of conveying it indirectly. It follows, from +what I have said, that the common pentameter, interspersed with +anapoests, would better convey celerity than the Alexandrine +interspersed with them in a similar degree;--and it unquestionably +does. + +[Footnote 1: I use the prosodial word "anapoest," merely because here +I have no space to show what the reviewer will admit I have distinctly +shown in the essay referred to--viz: that the additional syllable +introduced, does _not_ make the foot an anapoest, or the equivalent of +an anapoest, and that, if it did, it would spoil the line. On this +topic, and on all topics connected with verse, there is not a prosody +in existence which is not a mere jumble of the grossest error.] + + + * * * * * + +To converse well, we need the cool tact of talent--to talk well, the +glowing _abandon_ of genius. Men of _very_ high genius, however, talk +at one time _very_ well, at another _very_ ill:--well, when they have +full time, full scope, and a sympathetic listener:--ill, when they fear +interruption and are annoyed by the impossibility of exhausting the topic +during that particular talk. The partial genius is flashy--scrappy. The +true genius shudders at incompleteness--imperfection--and usually +prefers silence to saying the something which is not every thing that +should be said. He is so filled with his theme that he is dumb, first +from not knowing how to begin, where there seems eternally beginning +behind beginning, and secondly from perceiving his true end at so +infinite a distance. Sometimes, dashing into a subject, he blunders, +hesitates, stops short, sticks fast, and, because he has been +overwhelmed by the rush and multiplicity of his thoughts, his hearers +sneer at his inability to think. Such a man finds his proper element +in those "great occasions" which confound and prostrate the general +intellect. + +Nevertheless, by his conversation, the influence of the +conversationist upon mankind in general, is more decided than that of +the talker by his talk:--the latter invariably talks to best purpose +with his pen. And good conversationists are more rare than respectable +talkers. I know many of the latter; and of the former only five or +six:--among whom I can call to mind, just now, Mr. Willis, Mr. J. T. +S. S.--of Philadelphia, Mr. W. M. R.--of Petersburg, Va., and Mrs. +S----d, formerly of New York. Most people, in conversing, force us to +curse our stars that our lot was not cast among the African nation +mentioned by Eudoxus--the savages who, having no mouths, never opened +them, as a matter of course. And yet, if denied mouth, some persons +whom I have in my eye would contrive to chatter on still--as they do +now--through the nose. + + * * * * * + + All in a hot and copper sky + The bloody sun at noon + Just up above the mast did stand, + No bigger than the moon.--COLERIDGE. + +Is it possible that the poet did not know the apparent diameter of the +moon to be greater than that of the sun? + +If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize, at one effort, the +universal world of human thought, human opinion, and human sentiment, +the opportunity is his own--the road to immortal renown lies straight, +open, and unencumbered before him. All that he has to do is to write +and publish a very little book. Its title should be simple--a few +plain words--"My Heart Laid Bare." But--this little book must be _true +to its title_. + +Now, is it not very singular that, with the rabid thirst for notoriety +which distinguishes so many of mankind--so many, too, who care not a +fig what is thought of them after death, there should not be found one +man having sufficient hardihood to write this little book? To _write_, +I say. There are ten thousand men who, if the book were once written, +would laugh at the notion of being disturbed by its publication during +their life, and who could not even conceive _why_ they should object +to its being published after their death. But to write it--_there_ is +the rub. No man dare write it. No man ever will dare write it. No man +_could_ write it, even if he dared. The paper would shrivel and blaze +at every touch of the fiery pen. + + * * * * * + + For all the rhetorician's rules + Teach nothing but to name the tools.--HUDIBRAS. + +What these oft-quoted lines go to show is, that a falsity in verse +will travel faster and endure longer than a falsity in prose. The man +who would sneer or stare at a silly proposition nakedly put, will +admit that "there is a good deal in that" when "_that_" is the point +of an epigram shot into the ear. The rhetorician's rules--if they +_are_ rules--teach him not only to name his tools, but to use his +tools, the capacity of his tools--their extent--their limit; and from +an examination of the nature of the tools--(an examination forced on +him by their constant presence)--force him, also, into scrutiny and +comprehension of the material on which the tools are employed, and +thus, finally, suggest and give birth to new material for new tools. + + * * * * * + +Among his _eidola_ of the den, the tribe, the forum, the theatre, +etc., Bacon might well have placed the great _eidolon_ of the parlor +(or of the wit, as I have termed it in one of the previous +Marginalia)--the idol whose worship blinds man to truth by dazzling +him with the _apposite_. But what title could have been invented for +_that_ idol which has propagated, perhaps, more of gross error than +all combined?--the one, I mean, which demands from its votaries that +they reciprocate cause and effect--reason in a circle--lift themselves +from the ground by pulling up their pantaloons--and carry themselves +on their own heads, in hand-baskets, from Beersheba to Dan. + +All--absolutely all the argumentation which I have seen on the nature +of the soul, or of the Deity, seems to me nothing but worship of this +unnameable idol. _Pour savoir ce qu'est Dieu_, says Bielfeld, although +nobody listens to the solemn truth, _il faut être Dieu même_--and to +reason about the reason is of all things the most unreasonable. At +least, he alone is fit to discuss the topic who perceives at a glance +the insanity of its discussion. + + + + +THE PENANCE OF ROLAND. + +A ROMANCE OF THE PEINE FORTE ET DURE. + +BY HENRY B. HIRST. + +PART I. + + +When the weird and wizard bats were flitting round his dusky way, +Over a moorland, like a whirlwind, rushed the knight, Sir Roland Grey; +When the crimson sun was setting, as the yellow moon arose, +Far and faint, behind Sir Roland, sank the slogan of his foes-- + +Far and faint; and growing fainter as he reached the forest sward, +Spreading round for many an acre over the lands which owned him lord. +As he dashed along the woodland, fitfully, upon the breeze, +Swept the tu-who-o of the owlet through the naked forest trees; + +And the loudly whirring black-cock through the creaking branches sprung, +Frightened by his horse's hoofs, that like the Cyclop's anvil rung-- +Like a hurricane on he hurried, wood and valley gliding past, +While around him, o'er him, on him, burst the sudden autumn blast. + +Down upon him, in a deluge, rushed the cold November rain; +But the wind about him whistled, and the tempest swept in vain. +What to him was wind or tempest, when his brain was seared with flame? +What to him was earth or heaven, when his soul was sick with shame? + +In the dreary, desolate desert on his ears had burst a tale, +That, like falling thunder, stunned and left him terrified and pale; +How, while he was battling bravely, like a true and holy knight, +For the sacred tomb of Christ, against the swarthy Moslemite; + +How, while round him lances shivered, armor rang, and arrows fell, +And the air was mad with noises--Arab shout and Paynim yell-- +She, the partner of his heart, descended (so the legend said) +From the ancient Saxon monarchs, sank in shame her sunny head. + +From his friends--his growing glory--over dark and dangerous seas-- +From his red-cross banner proudly flowing, floating on the breeze-- +Over field and flood he traveled, flinging fame and honor by, +With a heart as full of hell as full of glory was the sky. + +All his mind became a chaos; but along its waste there stole +What his bloody purpose shook, and what was manna to his soul,-- +Memories of his youthful moments, when through grassy glen and wood +He wandered with the Lady Gwineth, dreaming none so fair and good; + +And he saw her sweetly smiling, as when at her feet he knelt, +And with bold but modest manner on his burning passion dwelt-- +Felt her fall upon his bosom--felt her tears upon his cheek, +As he felt them when his tongue was all too full of joy to speak! + +And his heart was slowly softening--when a hoarse voice bade him "yield!" +And a claymore clanked and clattered on the bosses of his shield;-- +Rising round him, closing on him, sprang an ambush of his foe, +The despoiler of his honor! All his answer was a blow! + +All his soul was in his arm; and, as his foemen closed around, +Vassal after vassal, wounded, yelling, fell and bit the ground; +But when through the wood there rushed an hundred thronging to the fight, +Charging through them, still defying, Roland safety sought in flight. + +When the crimson sun descended, as the yellow moon arose, +Far and faint behind Sir Roland sank the slogan of his foes-- +Far and faint, and waxing fainter, as he reached the forest sward, +Spreading round for many an acre, over the lands that owned him lord. + +Like a whirlwind on he hurried, though the storm was raging sore: +In his heart he carried torture: there was music in its roar-- +Like a hurricane on he hurried, spurring on with loosened rein, +Till he checked his jaded courser on his old paternal plain. + +Clouds were scudding o'er the heavens; wild the tempest roared around; +And the very earth was shaking with the thunder's heavy sound; +But between the lightning flashes, frowning grimly, here and there, +Loomed his old ancestral castle, with its old ancestral air. + +There, the barbican--the draw-bridge--there, the ancient donjon-keep, +With its iron-banded portals--there, the moat in sullen sleep!-- +Galloping onward, lo! he halted, for they kept strict watch and ward, +And his courser's clanking hoofs had roused the ever-wary guard. + +Loud above the increasing tempest rose the warder's threatening hail; +Louder rose the ringing answer from a lip that scorned to quail: +"Grey of Grey!" the warrior thundered, "he who fears nor bolt nor dart-- +He who is your master, vassal--Roland of the Lion Heart!" + +Clanking, clattering, grating, slowly up the huge portcullis went, +And the draw-bridge over the moat creaking, shrieking, downward bent; +On his armor flashed the torch-light, over helmet, cuirass, shield, +With its _lion d' or couchant_ upon a stainless _argent_ field. + +Over rode he, frowning fiercely, throwing from him ruddy light, +Flashing, like a burning beacon, on his startled vassal's sight. +Rose the draw-bridge, fell the barrier, closed the oaken gates behind. +--All was silence save the roaring of the wild November wind. + + +PART II. + + +In a lofty vaulted chamber, pillared, Gothic, full of gloom, +But that flashes of the fire-light fitfully fell athwart the room-- +Ruddy gleams of fading fire-light, lighting many a bearded face, +On the fluted hangings woven--founders of her husband's race-- + +On a carven couch in slumber lay the Lady Gwineth Grey, +Traces of a smile yet lingering on a cheek of rosy May-- +On the softest velvet slumbering, in a mist of golden hair, +Trembling on her heaving bosom, and along her neck as fair. + +Seemed she like the Goddess Dian sleeping in some lonely wood, +Or a nun on convent pallet dreaming only what was good: +By her stood an outened flambeaux, from which, blue, and thin, and rare, +Stole a wave of trembling vapor, slowly melting into air. + +But the tapestry was lifted, and a form in steel array +Suddenly entered, and his coming drove the waning mist away. +Treading softly o'er the rushes Roland stept beside his bride, +In the passing of a moment standing at her couch's side. + +Like an angel seemed the lady, lying in her rosy rest; +Like a devil seemed the knight, with passion raging in his breast: +For within his bosom, gnawing all his heart with teeth of fire, +Reigned Revenge, and on his forehead burned the purple hue of ire. + +Slowly bending o'er his wife, but making not a sound, he gazed +Upon her, while his glaring eye-balls, like twin torches, brightly blazed. +--Starting, feeling one was near her, Gwineth raised her golden head, +Looking round her--flashed his falchion, and she sank in silence--dead! + +Roared the tempest; crashed the thunder; even the castle seemed to quail +And tremble, like a living thing, before the fury of the gale; +But the fierce and fearless murderer turned to where his child reclined, +Asleep, amid the thunder's crash, the rushing rain and roaring wind. + +As he bent above his boy, dim memories of days long back +Came, like stars an instant seen amid the autumn tempest's rack; +But as swiftly over his spirit flashed the ruin of his name-- +Flashed the withering thought that even that child might be the child + of shame. + +Wildly then he raised his glaive, but wilder, sterner, still, without, +Swelled the tempest, burst the thunder, yelled the winds with maniac shout; +While the lightning, red and vivid, quivered through the skies in ire, +Till the chamber with its flashes seemed a blazing hall of fire. + +With this climax of the tempest--thunder, lightning, rain and wind-- +Roland felt an awful doubt creep tremblingly athwart his mind; +Slowly, slowly, it arose, and grew gigantic; slowly, slowly, +Cloud-like, overshadowing him, darkening his spirit wholly. + +Then, like Saul of Eld, he trembled, feeling his deed was one of guilt-- +Believing heaven itself asserted it was innocent blood he spilt-- +Feeling heaven was interfering, sank his heart, and fell his blade, +And the superstitious murderer tottered, wailing and dismayed. + +"Be she spotless," groaned the warrior, "I have done a grievous crime-- +Stained the snowiest shield that ever graced the temple-walls of Time. +--Thou, my noblest and my fairest! with thy mother's Saxon eye-- +Shall my hand, too, strike thee lifeless? No! I cannot see thee die!" + +Suddenly Roland saw the peril hanging over his guilty head-- +Felt that he could never hide him from the vengeance of the dead-- +Saw the heartless headsman smiling, and the axe, and heard the crowd +Shouting curses on the assassin--and the chieftain groaned aloud-- + +Groaned, for that his deed had robbed him of a home and of a name, +Hurling on his orphan son the damning heritage of shame: +Life and lands by law were forfeit; he had driven his offspring forth, +Rudely, ruthlessly, to wander, one of the Ishmaelites of earth. + +But a sudden thought came o'er him, and his lofty eye again +Flashed with resolution, stern and strong as was his spirit's pain. +"Shall I rob thee of thy birthright--rob thee of thy noble name, +Of our old ancestral castle, and our fathers' deeds of fame? + +"Shall I fling thee forth to struggle with a never-sparing world; +Knowing every eye will scorn thee, every lip at thee be curled? +Know thee, budding bloom of beauty, withering in thy youth away-- +Feel thy infant promise fading--see thy falcon-eye decay? + +"Did I give thee life to cloud it--life to poison every breath? +Better far the dreary dungeon, and the dark and iron death! +Never! Let them heap upon me rock on rock Olympus high; +None shall see a sinew quiver, none shall hear the slightest cry. + +"'Blood for blood' is rightly written: I have slain a spotless wife, +And will dree a heavy penance--yield the law my forfeit life; +Come the judgment, I will meet it; and the torture shall not tear +Word from me to make a beggar of my rightful, righteous heir." + +As the stricken knight was speaking, in the distance died the storm; +And the moonlight on the casement wandered sweetly, rested warm; +Through the golden glass it floated, fluttering over the lady's hair, +Till she seemed a mild Madonna, watched by angels, slumbering there. + +Shaken by the storm of conscience, Roland sank upon his knee, +Sudden as before a hurricane falls some famous forest tree; +Sank beside pale, placid Gwineth, weeping, wailing, sorrow riven, +Feeling God had spoken, praying that his crime might be forgiven. + +All that long and dreary night, Sir Roland watched beside the dead, +Humbly kneeling in the rushes strown around the carven bed. +Slowly, quietly approaching came the gray-eyed dreamy dawn, +Making every thing about him seem more desolate and wan. + +One by one the stars went out, and slowly over the Orient came +Streaks of rose and tints of purple, flakes of gold and rays of flame, +And around the ancient castle Roland heard the hum of those +That from quiet sleep were waking, as they, one by one, arose. + +Slowly through the painted casement, touching first the chamber crown +And the groined roof, the sunlight stole in lovely lustre down +Over the tapestry, that glistened, gleaming with its golden ray, +Till it kissed the russet rushes where in yellow sleep it lay. + +Came the Lady Gwineth's maidens, starting at the sudden sight +Of their lord, Sir Roland, standing like a warrior for the fight; +But he waved them on; and, wondering, they unto the sleeper went-- +Shrieking loudly, shrieking wildly as above her corpse they bent. + +Startled by the sudden clamor, Roland's son in fright awoke, +As from all sides, madly rushing in the room, the vassals broke; +Gathering round him, gazing on him, looking on the bloody brand +And the lady, who, when living, was the loveliest in the land. + +Not a word the warrior uttered, though his son implored him sore, +And they led him like an infant toward the oaken chamber-door; +There he turned and gazed on Gwineth, looking on her face his last; +Then between his guards in silence to the castle-prison passed. + +There they left him; but at mid-day came, and, beckoning, bade him forth +To journey, not as he was wont to, from his ancient honored hearth: +To an armed guard they gave him, and amid their stern array, +Haughty, lofty-souled and silent Roland sternly rode away. + + +PART III. + + +When the gathering gloom of night in swarthy shadows floated down +On the mountain and the forest, Roland saw the distant town: +O'er its walls, and round its towers, a dim and sickly lustre lay. +Like the gray and ghostly haze that heraldeth the dawning day. + +While, behind those walls and turrets, standing blackly in her light, +Full and large the lurid moon rose ghastily upon the night; +Shrouded in a cloud of crimson, slowly, slowly as he came +Rising higher, higher, higher, till the east was full of flame. + +As his guards approached the gates--did she sink or did they rise? +Behind the black gigantic towers the planet vanished from his eyes. +All without was solemn blackness, but within was drearier dark, +Save when from some grim old building stole a taper's trembling spark. + +Slowly through the lengthy streets, between old houses, rising high, +Over which, dark, dusk, sepulchral, bent the purple pall-like sky, +Through the town they bore him on, until frowningly, at last, +Rose the castle-walls before them, huge and massy, broad and vast. + +With a last look on the heavens, the knight rode on beneath the gate: +Stepping from his steed he bowed him, stately, to his fearful fate: +On his limbs they fastened fetters, cold! how cold! their chillness ran +Freezing through his blood, the spirit of the stern, unconquered man. + +Through a gallery they led him to a dark and dismal cell. +Where they left him. Sad and solemn, heavy, awful as a knell, +Seemed the fading of their footsteps, as he heard them slowly glide +Through the long and vaulted corridor till their very echo died. + +Days went by--days dark with anguish, for his conscience, like a spur, +Drove him o'er the wastes of memory which were never black before; +Weeks slid by, and months--such months! such bitter months of pungent pain, +That their very hours seemed serpents gnawing at his heart and brain. + +Next they led him forth to trial: like a child he bowed and went, +With his once black hair like snow, and his stalwart form so bent, +And his beard so long and white, and his cheek so thin and wan, +Even his very keepers thought it was a ghost they gazed upon! + +When before his ermined judges, stately, silent, Roland came, +Over his cheek there flashed and faded, suddenly, a flash of flame: +Like a falling star it faded: lofty and erect he turned, +With the feeling that aroused it under his iron Will inurned. + +"Roland, Baron Grey!" the crier, in the ancient Latin tongue, +Which, like some old bell in tolling, through the vaulted building rung:-- +Cold and stern the prisoner answered--cold and stern--devoid of fear-- +Looking haughtily around him:--"Roland, Baron Grey, is here!" + +Muttering the solemn charge, they bade him answer; but he stood +Cold, and calm, and motionless, as though he were nor flesh nor blood, +But, rather, all a bronzed statue of the proud, primeval time-- +In his silence self-devoted--in his very guilt sublime. + +Thrice they prayed him: while he listened, not a quiver on his brow, +Not the movement of a hair upon his head or beard of snow, +Not the motion of a lip, nor even the flutter of an eye, +Betokening that he even heard them--he was there alone to die. + +In the distant, dreary years, so run the legends even now-- +Misty legends on whose summits slumber centuries of snow-- +Lofty legends round whose summits clouds have lain for solemn ages-- +Legends penned with iron pens in blood by Draco-minded sages-- + +It was written, they should bear him to a dungeon under ground, +Far beneath the castle moat, where came no single human sound, +And unto the earth should chain him, naked, on the icy ground-- +Naked, like the sage Prometheus, on the mountain's summit bound. + +Water--there was none for him, save that which flowed in the castle moat, +On whose green and slimy surface newts and mosses loved to float-- +Bread--a crust a day--so, starving, freezing, there the Doomed was spread, +Pressed with weights of stone and iron till he answered or was dead. + +Did he answer guiltless, lo! the trial; guilty, lo! the axe; +Death before the grinning thousand! worse than were a myriad racks! +While the trial were an evil quite as grievous, quite as great, +For the verdict of his peers would rend from him his proud estate: + +But, if he died silent, then his lands would pass in quiet down +To bless his boy, his innocent boy, and not escheat unto the crown: +So he chose the darksome dungeon, rather there to die alone +Than by cowardly fear to steal the birthright of his orphan son. + +But, beside this, came the thought that, by this penance he might win +Forgiveness from offended Heaven for his now-repented sin. +"Noble Roland," quoth his judges, "answer, ere it be too late; +Heavy, else, must be our judgment--heavier thine awful fate." + +Then arose the ghostly knight, with his spectral eyes aflame, +While a more than mortal vigor coursed and circled through his frame; +And he gazed upon them smiling, and like hollow thunder broke +His accents on the swarthy silence:--thus and so the chieftain spoke: + +"Lords! I answer not. If guilty, God will judge my sinful soul: +For my body--that is yours! I yield it to your stern control. +Would you have me--me, a warrior, like a coward plead for life? +Death and I are old acquaintance! I have met him in the strife-- + +"I have met him when the air was swooning with a ghastly fear; +When the Moslem swept before us, driven like a herd of deer; +When our voices mocked the thunder, shouting 'England and Saint George!' +And the lightning of our falchions fell like flashes from a forge! + +"There, amid the clash and clang of sword and shield, I strove with Death-- +That I conquered, ye may see; and now I yield to him my breath +Where there is no rescue, yield! and, as one would call a bride, +So I bid the grisly monarch smilingly unto my side. + +"Shall I yield my broad estates, my castles and my manor lands, +To the harpies of the law, to hold them with unhallowed hands? +Shall I send my youthful heir forth with a stain upon his crest? +No! my eaglet yet shall reign an eagle in his parent nest. + +"Lords and judges, I have done: no further words shall pass my lips, +Save prayers to Heaven, that my soul may, sun-like, rise from death's + eclipse." +Silently, he braved them still; and, sighing, sad, and full of gloom, +His judges sent him forth to struggle with the sharp and lingering doom. + +Did he tremble at their sentence? Not a muscle quivered, not +A sign to mark he heard, save on his cheek one purple spot: +Statelier yet than ever, firmer, with a long triumphant breath, +Roland, smiling on his judges, sternly walked to certain death. + + +PART IV. + + +In his cell the knight is lying, naked, fettered foot and hand; +Bound unto the rocky ground with many an iron link and band; +On him lie the piles of granite, pressing, pressing; yet he still +Looks on death with lofty eye--so giant is his mighty will. + +Day by day, he lay and suffered, wrung with agony, but content-- +Day by day, though hard to bear was his grievous punishment-- +Never once, though, hour on hour, they piled the jagged granite higher +On his quivering limbs, he murmured; yet his very veins were fire. + +Once, however, came his jailer, saying that his nephew sought +His presence; and the knight, consenting, in his brother's son was brought: +"Uncle Roland," quoth he, weeping, "what is this that I have done? +Curses, curses on my head! curse, uncle, curse thy brother's son! + +Mine the tongue that wrought this evil--mine the false and slanderous + tongue +That done to death the Lady Gwineth--O! my soul is sadly wrung!" +"Demon, devil!" groaned the warrior--"devil of the evil eye! +Look upon the awful horror wrought by thy atrocious lie. + +Tell me? was it all a falsehood? Tell me, was it all--all--all? +Speak! and let these prison walls, oppressed with horror, on thee fall!" +"All was false! Mine, too the ambush; for I sought to grasp thy lands-- +Sought to win the Lady Gwineth, with thy blood upon my hands. + +But she drove me forth with scorn; and then I coined the lying tale-- +O! forgive me, Uncle Roland! give me leave to weep and wail; +Give me leave to sit in sackcloth, heaping ashes on my head; +Mourning in some craggy cavern for the early lost and dead." + +"Unexampled liar and traitor! first of all our noble name +Guilty of so black a treason! first to stain our shield with shame! +Hence! away! I--No! repent! begone! and pray for my repose: +Life on both of us too soon for our grievous crimes will close. + +I forgive thee--now away--nay, do not touch me! I am wan-- +Sick with suffering--mad with anguish--Go!" The penitent man is gone. +--Once again he lies alone, save his agony, alone; +Then they come and pile upon him heavier weights of iron and stone. + +Still more pallid, at the even, Roland in his anguish lay, +Wrestling, for his soul was strong, with his body's slow decay; +And the sweat upon his forehead stood and rolled and fell like rain, +Cold, while pain and fire and fever battled in his heart and brain. + +Now and then his senses wandered; now again his mind was calm, +And he wrung from out his suffering penitential draughts of balm; +Then again his senses left him, and he lay in phrenzy there, +Talking wildly in his madness with the dim, impalpable air. + +Now, he saw the Lady Gwineth wandering in her maiden joy; +Now, he viewed her in her chamber frolic with her baby boy; +Now, he saw her sadly lying, all her bosom bathed with blood; +And beheld himself as o'er her on that fatal night he stood. + +Was he dreaming? through his dungeon stole a pale purpureal light, +Flowing round him, floating round him, making daylight of its night; +In its midst, his gentle Gwineth, while around her brow there flowed, +Fluttering flame, a golden halo! that with heavenly glory glowed. + +Did he hear her? Was it real? With an angel's voice she spoke: +How the words, like flakes of music, silver music! sweetly broke, +Round and round him! how they floated, ringing in his ravished ears, +Like the notes of Memnon's lyre, or chantings from the distant spheres! + +"Coming, Roland, from that heaven where, though clad with light, I sigh +And languish for the softer lustre of thy gentle loving eye, +I await thee, singing, singing hymns to cheer thy dying hour +That the Cherubim sang in Eden when it first arose in flower. + +Hearken! how my notes are mingling--one by one, and two by two, +Dropping on thy brain as falls on fading roses freshening dew; +Three by three, they upward circle: thou hast heard them in thy dreams, +When I came, a missioned spirit, from the four eternal streams. + +I can see them, though thine eyes can only compass earthly vision: +Soon, O, Roland! soon, O, Roland! thou shalt see with eyes elysian: +Then the notes that now thou hearest thou shalt see, as on they flow,-- +Angels that are rarest air! and view them through their dances go." + +Still, entranced, the sufferer listened; and it seemed as from his pain +Sweeter music yet was born, for holier hymning lulled his brain; +Very wild his agony; very; but between its bars his eyes +Saw the angels as they wandered on the walls of Paradise. + +Faint and fainter grew he, while the melody loud and louder rang, +Till it seemed not only Gwineth but a myriad angels sang; +And his soul seemed rising, rising, rising from his pallid clay, +Which, each moment, grew more feeble--faintlier wrestling with decay. + +Burst upon his ears one swell! it seemed an anthem of the spheres, +Jubilant, divinely ringing; swam his eyes with happy tears-- +"Come, forgiven one," the cadence, "chastened spirit, come, arise +From thine earthly prison-house to holy homes beyond the skies." + +Fainter, fainter, still more feeble, grew the sufferer as he heard, +And a sigh swooned on the silence, soft as breathing of a bird,-- +And all was over. In his trance his spirit's sparkling feet had trod +The realms of space, and gone from earth, through air, to judgment and + to God. + + +NOTES. + + +The judgment of the _peine forte et dure_, on an instance of which our +ballad is founded, was well known in the ancient law of England. As +has been seen, it was terribly severe. The circumstances of the +judgment were as follows: When a prisoner stood charged with an +offence, and an indictment had been found against him, before he could +be tried he was called upon to answer, or, in technical parlance, to +plead. A plea in bar is an answer, either affirming or denying the +offence charged in the indictment, or, if of a dilatory character, +showing some ground why the defendant should not be called upon to +answer at all. In those days, in all capital cases, the estates of the +criminal, on conviction and judgment, were forfeited to the crown. The +blood of the offender was considered as corrupted, and, as a +consequence, his property could not pass to his family, who, although +innocent, suffered for the faults of the criminal. Crimes, therefore, +where the punishment fell, not only on the criminal but on his family, +were comparatively of rare occurrence. An admission of guilt produced +the same effect as a conviction. If the defendant, however, stood +mute, obstinately refusing to answer, by which behaviour he preserved +his estates to his family, he was sentenced to undergo the judgment of +the _peine forte et dure_. + +"The English judgment of penance for standing mute," says Chief +Justice Blackstone, in his admirable Commentaries, "was as follows: +That the prisoner be remanded to the prison from whence he came, and +put into a low, dark chamber; and there be laid on his back, naked, +unless where decency forbids: that there be placed upon his body as +great a weight of iron as he could bear and more; that he have no +sustenance, save only on the first day, three morsels of the worst +bread; and, on the second day, three draughts of standing water, that +should be nearest to the prison door; and in this situation this +should be alternately his daily diet _till he died_, or (as anciently +the judgement ran) _till he answered_." + +With respect to this horrid judgment, Christian, in his notes to the +same work, goes on to say: that "the prosecutor and the court could +exercise no discretion, or show no favour to a prisoner who stood +obstinately mute." "In the legal history of this country," (England,) +he continues, "are numerous instances of persons who have had +resolution and patience to undergo so terrible a death in order to +benefit their heirs by preventing a forfeiture of their estates, which +would have been a consequence of a conviction by a verdict. There is a +memorable story of an ancestor of an ancient family in the north of +England. In a fit of jealousy he killed his wife; and put to death his +children who were at home, by throwing them from the battlements of +his castle; and proceeding with an intent to destroy his only +remaining child, an infant nursed at a farm-house at some distance, he +was intercepted by a storm of thunder and lightning. This awakened in +his breast compunction of conscience. He desisted from his purpose, +and having surrendered himself to justice, in order to secure his +estates to this child, he had the resolution to die under the dreadful +judgment of the _peine forte et dure_." This tale is the base of our +romance. + + + + +THE SEA NYMPH'S SONG. + +BY WILLIAM H. C. HOSMER. + + + Sound is he sleeping + Far under the wave-- + Sea nymphs are keeping + A watch for the brave: + Deep was our grief and wild-- + Wilder our dirge + When the doomed ocean child + Drowned in the surge. + + Within a bright chamber + His form we have laid; + With spar, pearl and amber + The walls are arrayed-- + Though high rolls the billow + He wakes not at morn, + And sponge for his pillow + From rocks we have torn. + + I heard thy name spoken + When down came the mast; + His hold was then broken, + That _word_ was his last. + A picture is lying, + Lorn maid! on his breast-- + That picture in dying + His hand closely prest. + + Why turns thy cheek paler + These tidings to know? + The truth of thy sailor + Should lessen thy wo: + The wave could not chill it + That stifled his breath; + Pure _love_--can aught kill it? + Give answer, Oh, Death! + + + + +THE LITTLE GOLD-FISH. + +A FAIRY TALE. + +BY JAMES K. PAULDING, AUTHOR OF THE "DUTCHMAN'S FIRESIDE," ETC. + + +In the reign of good King Doddipol, surnamed the Gnatsnapper, there +lived in a stately castle, on the top of a high mountain, a rich old +Norseman, who had an only son whom he loved with great ardor, and +little discretion, on account of his being the last of an illustrious +family. The youth was called Violet, partly because he had for his +godmother the Fairy Violetta, and partly on account of having on his +left shoulder an impression of that flower, so perfectly defined, and +so vivid in color, that the old nurse mistook it at first sight for a +real violet, and declared it smelled like a nosegay. + +Being the only son of a great and rich nobleman, as well as somewhat +indolent and unambitious, Violet passed much of his time, while +growing up to manhood, in thinking much and doing nothing. He was +without companions, having no equals around him, and was prohibited +from associating with his inferiors by the strict etiquette which +prevailed throughout the dominions of good King Doddipol. As he grew +up thus in almost entire solitude his temperament became highly +poetical and imaginative, his feelings irregular and ardent, and it +was predicted that some day or other he would become a martyr to love. + +Much of his time was spent in lonely rambles among the mountains which +surrounded the residence of the Old Man of the Hills, as he was +called, a distance of many miles in every direction, and one summer +day, wandering on without knowing or caring whither he went, he at +length found himself in a region where he had never been before. It +was a deep, sequestered, rocky dell, shaded by gloomy pines, from the +farther extremity of which there tumbled a bright cascade of +snow-white foam, which, after forming a deep transparent basin at its +foot, escaped murmuring among the rocks below and disappeared. Not a +sound was heard but that of the falling waters and the gurgling +stream, for the birds delight not in the gloom of perpetual shade, and +neither hunter nor woodman ever visited this lonely retreat. + +Tired with his long ramble, Violet sat down at the foot of a lofty +tree, whose roots seemed to drink of the crystal basin, and fell into +a deep reverie, during which his eyes were fixed unconsciously on the +transparent water, which, though clear as our northern lakes, was so +deep that no one could see the bottom. While thus occupied in weaving +webs of youthful anticipation, he saw a little gold-fish suddenly dart +from under the rock on which he was seated, and play around with +infinite grace, quivering its fins and fanning its tail, while their +bright colors glittered in the rippling water with indescribable +brilliancy. + +The youth watched its motions with increasing interest, and an +eagerness he had never experienced before. Sometimes it would come up +close to the spot, almost within reach of his hand, and after +balancing on the surface awhile, again dart away, only to return and +play a thousand fantastic gambols, full of vivacity and grace. At +other times it would remain stationary awhile, looking him in the face +with its mellow, melancholy eyes, and an expression of sorrowful +tenderness that sunk into his heart. He remained watching its motions +in deep solicitude, until the gathering shadows of twilight warned him +away, and reached home so late that he found his father anxiously +awaiting his return. The Old Man of the Hills inquired of him where he +had been, and what had detained him so long; but he answered +evasively, being ashamed to confess he had been fascinated by a little +gold-fish. + +That night he could think of nothing but the little gold-fish, and +when at length sleep came over his eyelids, he dreamed it was a +beautiful princess, transformed by the power of some wicked enchanter +or malignant fairy. The impression was so vivid in his mind, that when +he awoke he could not decide whether it was indeed a dream, or whether +he had not actually seen the charming princess, whose features were +indelibly impressed on his memory. The next morning he again sought +the path he had traveled the day before, and about mid-day arrived at +the glen of the shining cascade. He had scarcely seated himself, when +the little gold-fish darted from under the rock as before, and winning +its way to the surface of the crystal basin, looked at him with an +expression of its beautiful eyes that spoke a joyful welcome. Violet +put forth his hand, and tried to woo it still nearer, but it only gave +a melancholy shake of the head, and when he attempted to seize it, +retired beyond his reach with a lingering hesitation that seemed to +indicate a mingled desire and apprehension. + +Thus the little creature continued to coquette with him for several +days during which he repeated his visits, staying all day, and +dreaming every night the same dream of the beautiful princess changed +into a little gold-fish. While absent from the crystal basin, his +imagination was forever dwelling on the form and features of the +princess, and the mysterious connection he was convinced subsisted +between his waking thoughts and experience and his nightly dreams. By +degrees the two became inseparably associated together in his mind, +and insensibly he fell in love to distraction, but whether with the +beautiful princess or the little gold-fish he could not decide. He +became so melancholy in consequence that the latter, as if conscious +of his feelings, permitted him to take it in his hand, kiss it, and +nestle it in his bosom at pleasure. At such times he would beseech it +in the most moving terms to speak to him, tell him if his dreams were +true, and respond to his devoted affection. But it only replied by a +silent tear, and a look of strange meaning, which he could not +comprehend. + +Violet grew every day more sad, and his youthful form continued to +waste away, so that as he walked in the sun, his shadow could scarcely +be seen. During this period the behavior of the little gold-fish was +so full of inconsistencies and contradictions that Violet was well +nigh distracted. Sometimes it would contemplate his pale cheek and +wasted form with tears in its eyes, while at the next moment it looked +at him with an expression of unfeeling triumph. Then its eyes would +glance rapidly and eagerly, sometimes toward himself, at others down +on the crystal basin, and at others upward to the skies. + +One bright morning, when the position of the sun toward the east had +become gradually changed, and the beams of the former fell directly +upon the crystal basin, Violet was sitting, as usual, fondling the +little gold-fish in his hand, admiring its soft hazel eyes, and +addressing a thousand endearments to the little dumb creature, which +at that moment appeared insensible to his affection. Keeping its eyes +earnestly fixed on the transparent waters, which now glittered in the +golden beams of the sun, the youth suddenly felt it tremble as if with +ecstasy in his hand, as with a sudden spring it vaulted into the basin +and instantly disappeared. He gazed with intense anxiety, expecting +every moment it would reappear; but it returned no more, and after +waiting in vain, until dusky twilight enveloped the glen in shadows, +he bent his way homeward, scarcely conscious whither he was going. +That night he slept from the mere weariness of sorrow, and dreamed the +beautiful princess appeared to thank and bless him for her +disenchantment. + +The next day the Old Man of the Hills called his son before him, and +announced with great satisfaction that he had just concluded a treaty +of marriage between him and the oldest daughter of King Doddipol, a +lady of great discretion, and old enough to be his mother. The young +man quitted the presence of his father in despair, and, scarcely +conscious of whither he was wandering, sought the crystal basin at the +foot of the shining cascade. Here, seated on the rock, he gazed +himself almost blind, in the hope of seeing the little gold-fish once +more appear, to receive his last farewell. But he gazed in vain for +hours, and hours, until in the bitterness of disappointment he at +length cried out aloud--"It is all in vain. It will come no more, and +nothing is now left me but a remembrance carrying with it eternal +regrets. But one hope remains. I will seek my adored princess, for +such I know she is, where she disappeared from my sight, and either +find her or a grave." Saying this he plunged into the basin in an +agony of despair. + +He continued to sink, as it appeared to him, for nearly half an hour, +without once drawing his breath, until, just as he felt himself quite +exhausted, he found himself precipitated into what seemed a new +world, far more beautiful than that he had just abandoned. The skies +were of a deeper blue, and being likewise far more transparent, +reflected the features of the lower world as in a vast illimitable +mirror. There was no sun visible in the heavens. Yet a soft, delicious +mellow light, more rich and yet more gentle than that of summer +twilight, diffused itself everywhere, giving to every object the charm +of distance, and giving to the air a genial warmth inexpressibly +grateful. The meadows seemed like endless waving seas of verdure, and +together with the foliage of the woods, exhibited all the freshness of +the new-born spring; the little warbling birds seemed to revel among +the groves and verdant meads in joyous luxury, filling the air with +their melodious concert; the meadows were sprinkled with beds of +flowers of various hues and fragrance, and a thousand delicious odors +gave zest to every breath he drew. Vast fields of violets, most +especially, were spread out in every direction, larger and more +beautiful than any he had ever seen before. A gentle river meandered +deep and clear through a long valley spread out before him, skirted on +either side by pale blue hills, so high they seemed to reach and +mingle with the heavens above. A cool, refreshing zephyr played about +his brow, and as he breathed its inspiring odors, Violet felt himself +suddenly restored to all his wonted vigor and activity. + +As he stood gazing in almost stupefied wonder at the scene before him, +and doubtful whether it was merely a creation of his bewildered fancy, +he perceived a radiant female form approaching, seated in a chariot +formed of a single violet, and crowned with a diadem of the same +flowers. Her dress, too, was composed of many-colored violets, and her +chariot drawn by butterflies, whose wings of gold and purple were of +glorious lustre. The chariot stood still on coming up to the youth; +the lady springing out, lighted on the flowers without ruffling their +leaves, and giving him her tiny hand addressed him as follows: + + "Welcome, Prince Violet, for such you are by birth, + and by my creation. I was the friend of your + mother. I presided at your birth, and I gave you + your name. I therefore feel in some measure + responsible for your happiness, and am come hither + to give you the benefit of my advice and + assistance. Know, my prince, that you are brought + here by a destiny you could not avoid. You are in + the dominions, I might almost say in the power of + the wicked enchanter Curmudgeon, who is as potent + as he is wicked. Among his other diabolical acts, + he is an adept in the new science of animal + magnetism, can put you to sleep by the waving of + his hand, pull out your teeth without your knowing + any thing about it, and divorce your spirit from + your body, sending it wandering away to distant + regions, while the body remains unconscious though + not inanimate. In short, there is no end to his + wicked devices, and he is the most mischievous, + malignant monster in the world, inexorable in his + revenge, and clothed with the power of gratifying + it to its utmost extent. It is to warn you against + him that I am here. My name is Violetta." + +The prince, as he must now be called, listened to this speech with +great gravity and decorum, though he thought it rather long, and +replied with infinite discretion. He thanked the fairy for her kind +intentions, and concluded by observing that he had often, when a +child, heard his mother speak of the Fairy Violetta with great +affection. + +"Your mother was a woman of taste," said the fairy, "but there is not +a moment to be lost, for the enchanter is by this time apprized of +your coming, and the purport of your visit. Do not ask me what that +is. It is sufficient that you are here to fulfill your destiny." + +The fairy then stamped three times with her little foot on a bed of +violets. At the first stamp there rose out of the ground a superb suit +of violet-colored armor; at the second a sword and spear; and at the +third a gallant violet-colored steed richly caparisoned. + +"Take these, arm thyself, mount, and away. You will meet with many +obstacles in your course, but you have nothing to fear so long as you +fear nothing. Your first enemy will be a little mischievous caitiff, +called Master Whipswitchem, a creature of the wicked enchanter; your +second a monstrous giant; your third a beautiful spectre, and your +fourth the enchanter himself. The first you must circumvent by your +wit; the second by your valor; the third by your self-command; and the +fourth by your promptitude and sagacity. There is no magic in your +weapons, though they are equally good and true. Your dependence must +be on yourself alone; on your valor, your constancy, and your cause; +and remember, that should you ever turn your back on an enemy, whether +man, beast, or fiend, your happy destiny will never be accomplished. +You will never see your little gold-fish again. + +"My little gold-fish!" exclaimed the prince eagerly--"What dost thou +mean? O tell me, most beneficent fairy!" + +"You will know in good time, if you do not turn recreant," answered +the fairy, with a significant smile. "But away, away, my prince. Mount +and away. Follow the course of the river, and once more, never turn +aside let what will be before you, remembering that nothing is +impossible to courage, conduct, and perseverance in a good cause." + +The prince bowed himself before the lady, repeated his grateful +thanks, mounted his neighing steed, which pawed the ground +impatiently, and was about clapping spurs to his sides, when the fairy +suddenly stopped him. + +"Hold, prince! I had almost forgotten. Take this bouquet of violets, +place it in your bosom, and guard it well. But be careful not to draw +it forth except in the last extremity, depending always on your valor +and your sword. When your life shall hang suspended by a single hair; +when the last breath is quivering on thy lips, and all other means +fail, then, and not till then, use it as your instinct may direct. +Adieu, my prince--be faithful, bold and fortunate." + +The fairy mounted her chariot, the butterflies spread their gorgeous +wings, and ascending rapidly through the transparent skies the whole +pageant disappeared. The prince lost not a moment in pursuing the +course pointed out by the fairy, and as he proceeded, gradually fell +into a reverie, the subject of which was the hint that it would depend +on himself whether he ever saw the little gold-fish again. The thought +roused him to the utmost height of daring, and he resolved, come what +might, nothing should be wanting on his part to the accomplishment of +a glorious and happy destiny. He fell himself suddenly animated by +this determination to gain a noble prize by noble exertions, for +nothing is more certain than that none but groveling, abject beings, +to whom nature has denied the ordinary faculties of mind, can remain +insensible to the excitement of glory, or the rewards of love. + +He had not, however, proceeded far, when on a sudden there alighted on +the head of his steed, right between the ears, one of the most +extraordinary creatures he had ever seen. It was a little imp, about +three feet high, exactly resembling one of those scarecrows we +sometimes see in corn-fields, except that it was a great deal more +_outre_ in its form and dimensions. It wore an immense hat, of the +shape of a cullender, and with almost as many holes, through which +protruded little wisps of straw instead of feathers. The face was +perfectly undefinable, having neither dimensions nor shape, resembling +nothing of the live human species, and consisting apparently entirely +of a nose which projected several inches beyond the brim of his hat; +his shirt-collar was tied with a piece of rope; his jacket was as much +too short as his breeches were too long, one being out at the elbows, +the other at the knees, the latter of which were tied with a wisp of +straw tortured into a true lover's knot; his legs seemed nothing but a +pair of short broom-sticks, of neither shape nor substance, ensconced +in an old pair of spatterdashes; and the toes of his shoes curled +upward like a pair of old-fashioned skates. Altogether he cut a +curious figure, and the prince could not help laughing at his new +traveling companion. "This," thought he, "must be Master +Whipswitchem." + +But his gallant steed did not seem to enter into the spirit of the +joke. He pricked his ears, pawed the ground, snorted, champed and +foamed, and finally stood stock still, trembling like a leaf. Prince +Violet began to wax somewhat impatient. Yet at length said to him very +courteously-- + +"My friend, if it is the same thing to you, I had rather you would get +off and walk." + +"Thank you, my friend, but if it's the same thing to you, I'd rather +ride. Ho-ho! ha-hah!" and thereupon he laughed like a whole swarm of +flies. + +Then the valiant prince drew his sword and gave Master Whipswitchem a +great blow under the short-ribs, which he took it for granted would +cut him in two; but the sword rebounded as if it had struck on an +empty bladder, while the little imp only bounded upward about three +yards, alighting in the same place as before, and crying out, "Ho-ho! +hah-hah!" At this rate, thought Prince Violet, I shall never get to +the end of my journey. Still he repeated his blows, at each one of +which the pestiferous little imp only jumped higher and laughed +louder, and the gallant steed only snorted, pawed, and stamped more +vehemently, until both steed and master became quite exhausted. The +latter then resorted to artifice, seeing that force was unavailing. So +putting up his sword, he affected to expostulate with his troublesome +companion on the impropriety of his conduct, watching at the same time +for an opportunity of laying hold of him. When he seemed off his +guard, and was crying "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" with infinite glee, the prince +suddenly throwing himself forward, seized him by the long nose, and +after holding him up kicking in the air for a few moments--for he was +as light as a feather--with a sudden jerk pitched him away out into +the river, where, after bobbing up and down some half a dozen times, +and crying "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" he disappeared. "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" cried the +prince, "I think I have done Master Whipstichem's business this time." +After which he proceeded gayly on his journey. + +Before, however, he had time to enjoy the victory, his gallant steed +suddenly began to rear up before, and then to kick up behind with +great violence. The prince clapped his hand on his trusty blade, +thinking he was approaching the giant, but on looking round in every +direction could see neither castle nor draw-bridge. Indeed nothing +visible seemed to justify the horse in his unseemly gambols, and the +prince accused his gallant steed of being in league with his enemies, +when happening to look over his shoulder, who should he see but Master +Whipswitchem seated quietly on the crupper, and spurring away with an +old rusty nail he had fixed in the heel of his shoe, while he held by +the horse's tail for a bridle. "I swear by the eyes of my beautiful +gold-fish," cried the prince, "but this is too bad!" And then he +attempted to dislodge the pestilent imp, by thrusting his elbow into +his back; but the little caitiff every time bounced up like a +tennis-ball, and the next instant was in his seat, crying, "Ho-ho! +ha-ha!" louder than ever. This time he was too cunning for the prince; +for knowing by experience that his nose was the most exposed part of +his outworks, he kept his back to the prince, and his face toward the +tail of the horse. At the expiration of an hour the prince became so +worried that he could scarcely lift his hand to his head, and his +horse so exhausted that he could kick no more. At length, however, +while the little caitiff was spurring and laughing away with great +glee, the prince turning suddenly round on the saddle, seized the rope +which he wore round his neck for a cravat, and leaping from his steed, +hoisted him up to an old sign-post at the road-side, where he left him +dangling in the air. "Ho-ho! ha-ha!" said the prince, "I think I shall +have no more trouble with Master Whipswitchem." + +Finding himself as well as his steed quite exhausted, and both +requiring rest and refreshment, Prince Violet dismounted in a +pleasant, shady grove, through which meandered a clear stream, +bordered by rich, luxuriant grass, thus furnishing both drink and food +to the panting animal, whom, having turned loose, he left to roam at +will. Seating himself among a bed of fragrant flowers, he lighted a +cigar, and sat smoking and thinking of his future prospects. + +"Ho-ho! ha-hah! my prince, what are you about? You put me in mind of a +smoking chimney, though from your mighty contented look, I should +suppose you were very pleasantly occupied. I should like to take a +puff too, if you have no objection." + +"O, beneficent Fairy Violetta," exclaimed the prince, "what shall I do +with this pestiferous caitiff, who minds neither hanging nor +drowning?" And thereupon the fairy, who doubtless heard his +adjuration, inspired him with a lucky thought. Knowing that the little +caitiff was but a man of straw, animated by the wicked enchanter, he +at once resolved to take advantage of that circumstance. + +"Ho-ho! ha-hah! are you there, my friend?" replied the prince. "Well, +I see there is no use in quarreling with such a pleasant fellow. Come, +sit down, and take a puff with me, and let us swear eternal +friendship." + +"Agreed!" replied the little caitiff, briskly. "It is true you played +a joke or two on me, but I flatter myself, on the whole, I paid you +beforehand; and for the present the account is pretty well balanced." + +So they sat down and smoked very sociably together, talking about +various matters, until the little caitiff's cigar being burnt to a +stump, and somewhat incommoding his long nose, he began turning and +twisting it about, until it set fire to some blades of straw that +projected from his nostrils, which straight-way communicated to his +head, and thence to his body, and in a moment he was in full blaze. + +"I am a gone sucker!" exclaimed he, and the words were scarcely out of +his mouth when, he became nothing but a heap of black ashes. + +"Ho-ho! ha-hah!" quoth the prince, "if he is a gone sucker, I take it +for granted, it is all Dicky with Master Whipswitchem." And then, +himself and his horse being sufficiently refreshed, he mounted and +rode forward on his journey. + +Ascending a high, wearisome hill, he saw at a little distance a great +and magnificent castle, which he at once took for that of the +enchanter Curmudgeon. The crisis of his fate was then at hand; and +after inspecting his armor and equipments, the prince spurred on +briskly to consummate his destiny. A few moments brought him to a +tower, at the end of a draw-bridge, where hung an enormous bell, +which, without hesitating a moment, he rung till it resounded far and +near. Instantly at the sound there rose up from the inner side, a +monstrous and deformed giant, upward of sixteen feet high. As he +advanced, he seemed all body and no legs--the latter being utterly +disproportioned to the former; his shoulders rose like mountains, one +higher than the other, almost to the top of his head; his body was all +over covered with impenetrable scales like an alligator, and he wore +on his head an old Continental cocked-hat, from which projected a +queue of such unaccountable length that it was said nobody ever saw +the end of it. But his most atrocious feature was a great proboscis, +growing just over a little pug nose, he used for smelling, about the +size of that of an elephant, which it exactly resembled in strength +and elasticity. + +"What want you here?" roared the monster, in a voice so loud and +horrible, that it set the bell tinkling, and in a most discourteous +manner peculiar to giants, who are notorious for their ill manners. + +"I wish to see the far-famed and puissant enchanter, the great +Curmudgeon, with whom I have a bone to pick, an please your worship," +replied the prince, with infinite politeness. + +"You see him--what good will that do? He would not look at, much less +speak to, such a sloppy stripling as you. To the right-about--march! +or I'll make mince-meat of you in less than no time." + +"Stand aside, and let me pass!" cried the enraged prince, drawing his +sword. + +"Advance at your peril!" roared the giant, twirling his proboscis, and +twisting his long queue like a great black-snake. + +And now commenced a battle, the like of which is not recorded in +history, tradition, or romance. The sword of the valiant prince +gleamed, and flashed, and flew about like lightning, raining such a +shower of dry blows on the monster, that had not his hide been +invulnerable to any but enchanted weapons, he would in good time have +been a gone sucker, as Sir Bruin said. The giant, on the other hand, +had managed his proboscis with admirable skill, his great object being +to entwine the prince in its folds, and squeeze him to death. +Sometimes he would stretch it out at least six yards, and at others +draw it in suddenly, in hopes the prince would be deceived as to its +length, and come within the sphere of its action. But the prince being +gloriously seconded by his gallant steed, displayed an activity fully +equal to the craft of the giant; and for an hour at least the fight +continued doubtful. The only vulnerable part of the monster was his +long queue, which the prince, in hopes that, like Sampson, his +strength might peradventure lie in his hair, by an adroit manoeuvre +cut off about six feet from his head. Thereupon he roared like ten +thousand bulls of Bashan, insomuch that the enchanter, Curmudgeon, +feared he was vanquished, and trembled in the recesses of his castle. + +The giant frantic with rage at the loss of what he was more vain of +than even his stately proboscis, now redoubled his efforts, while the +prince every moment became more exhausted, and his gallant steed +ceased his usual activity. The giant seeing this, watched his +opportunity, till he at length succeeded in throwing a slipping noose, +made by twisting his proboscis over the head of the prince. This he +gradually tightened with all his force, until the prince perceived +himself rapidly suffocating. His eyes failed him, and seemed bursting +from their orbits; his vision presented nothing but gleams of many +colored lights dancing before him; his heart heaved and panted with +throes of desperate agony; his arm became almost nerveless, and his +sword fell from his hand, while the shouts of the giant announced that +the victory was won. + +At this moment of extreme peril, when the last gleam of consciousness +lingered in his brain, the prince recollected the bouquet of violets +which he still carried in his bosom, and drawing it forth with a +desperate effort, thrust it into the little pug nose of the giant, +which was directly before him. That instant the proboscis relaxed, as +if by magic, and the giant suddenly untwining its folds, commenced a +fit of sneezing, awful to hear, jumping up several feet from the +ground at every paroxysm, swearing at intervals like a trooper, and +cutting the most enormous capers. The moment Prince Violet recovered +himself sufficiently, he dismounted, and regaining his trusty sword, +belabored the impenetrable hide of the egregious monster with such +arrant good will, that he retreated backward between every fit of +sneezing, until finally falling into the moat, he stuck fast in the +mud, sneezing and roaring most vociferously. + +Prince Violet lost no time, but passed swiftly into the castle, and +proceeding through several apartments, far more vast and magnificent +than the palace of King Doddipol, at length came to the study where +the wicked enchanter practiced Mesmerism, and other diabolical +devices. The old sinner was seated in an arm-chair of ebony, curiously +carved, and ornamented with figures of strange, misshapen imps, among +which the prince recognized his old friend, Master Whipswitchem. By +his side stood a female of such transcendent and inimitable beauty, +that the prince at once concluded this was the phantom against whom he +was so emphatically warned by his good friend the fairy. He allowed +himself but one glance, which sufficed to convince him she resembled +exactly the charming princess he had so often seen in his dreams, and +which had like to have proved fatal. Then shutting his eyes, he +advanced backward, sword in hand, toward the enchanter, who at the +first moment he saw him, began those mysterious wavings of the hand +with which he was wont to put his victims to sleep, and those +cabalistic words which changed men into beasts, insects, and reptiles. +But the prince having his eyes shut, and his back toward him, could +not see his motions, and the enchanter being horribly affrighted, as +well as naturally a great blockhead, was so long in recollecting the +formula of his incantation, that the prince, seeing by a sly glance +over the shoulder, that he was sufficiently near, suddenly turned +round, and with one blow severed his head from his shoulders. Then +catching it before it fell to the ground, he threw it into the great +kettle that hung boiling over the fire. He was just in time, for +Curmudgeon had got to the last but one of his cabalistic words, and in +a single instant more, Prince Violet would have been changed into a +cabbage. No sooner was the head thrown into the kettle, than the water +began to hiss and foam, and blaze up in spires of blue sulphureous +flame, until finally the kettle burst into a thousand fragments, and +the head disappeared up the chimney. Then the phantom beauty, uttering +a shrill, dismal scream, melted into air--and the enchantment was +dissolved forever. At that moment Prince Violet heard a voice from the +skies, as tuneful as the music of the spheres, saying, "Well done, my +prince, the death of the wicked enchanter was necessary to the +recovery of thy lost gold-fish--for while he lived thou wouldst never +have seen it again. Go on--thy destiny ere long will be accomplished." +A strain of aerial music succeeded, which gradually faded into +whispering zephyrs, bearing on their wings the mingled perfume of a +thousand flowers. + +The prince took possession of the castle by right of conquest; and +when the people over whom the enchanter had reigned with a cruel and +despotic sway heard of the gallantry with which he had rid them of +their tyrant, they gathered themselves together, and with one voice +chose him for their king. + +Prince Violet proved an excellent sovereign; but, though he made his +subjects happy, he partook not in what he so freely bestowed on +others. The recollection of the little gold-fish, and of the beautiful +princess he had so often seen in his dreams, was ever present, and +poisoned his days and nights with perpetual sorrows. Though courted by +King Grabyall, and all the surrounding potentates, who had grown up +daughters, he declined their advances, passing most of his leisure +hours in wandering along the river he had followed in his journey, and +which flowed just at the foot of the terrace of his stately castle. He +remembered that it issued from the aperture through which he had +emerged from the crystal basin, and constantly fed his sickly fancy +with the hope that the little gold-fish might have vanished in the +same direction. If so, it was probably still in the river, if it lived +at all; and he was perpetually bending over the stream, watching the +gambols of the finny tribes, to see if he could not detect among them +his lost wanderer. + +One day having rambled much further than he had ever been before in +that direction, he perceived in turning a sharp angle of the river, a +noble marble villa, which had never attracted his notice before. It +basked its white, unsullied beauties on the bank of the murmuring +stream, and its turrets rose from out a sea of green foliage that +almost hid them from sight. Led by curiosity, or rather by his +destiny, he approached the building by a winding walk, that seemed +almost a labyrinth, now bringing him near, and anon carrying him to a +distance, until tired at last, he stopped, and rested himself under +the shade of a stately beech, that spread its broad arms afar, and +afforded a delightful canopy. Here, gazing around in listless apathy, +his attention was attracted by the letter V, carved on the smooth +bark, and environed with a chaplet of violets, underneath which the +motto, "Forget me not," was cut in graceful letters. While pondering +on this rural emblem of constant love, he was startled by a low and +plaintive female voice chanting the following simple strain, with the +gentle pathos of chastened sorrow: + + "Forget me not! forget me not! + Pale, withered leaf, in which I read + The sad, mysterious, lonely lot + By cruel fate for me decreed. + + "Pale, withered leaf, you mind me now + Of him whose gentle name you bear, + Whose lips once uttered many a vow, + In breath more sweet than violets are. + + "Oft would he take me in his hands, + Oft hide me in his throbbing heart; + Oft kiss my eyes with words so bland-- + Was ever scaly imp so blessed; + + "I joy'd his wasting form to see, + His stately beauties fade away; + 'T was wo to him, but bliss to me-- + It made him sad, while I was gay. + + "But I shall never see him more, + Nor share with him my life's dear lot; + Sweet youth, whose memory I adore-- + Forget me not! forget me not!" + +These words, sung to a sweet, melancholy melody, equally excited the +sympathy and wonder of the prince. The idea of a young lady being +delighted at seeing the face of her lover wither, and his body waste +away, he thought did little credit to the heart of woman; and that +what made him sad should make her gay, appeared to show a great want +of sympathy. As to the "little scaly imp," he could make nothing of +it. Still there was that in the song which seemed to bear some strange +allusion to his own peculiar situation; and his curiosity became so +excited, that without reflecting on the impropriety of his conduct, or +its consequences, he, as it were, impelled by an involuntary yet +irresistible impulse, advanced in the direction whence the voice +proceeded. + +Passing through a long winding avenue bordered by beds of violets, and +overshadowed by lofty trees, he at length came to a bower of +clambering vines entwined with each other, at the further extremity of +which, seated on a bank of flowers, he beheld a female figure, her +cheek resting on her hand, and tears flowing from her eyes. He gazed +on her face, which was turned toward the heavens, and shuddered as he +recognized an exact likeness of the phantom beauty he had seen at the +side of the enchanter's chair. He sought to retreat, but continued to +advance by an irresistible impulse, until the lady, at the sound of +his footsteps, looked toward him. The moment she saw the prince she +uttered a piercing shriek, at the same time rushing forward with +extended arms, and a face glowing with joyous welcome. Then, as if +suddenly recollecting herself, she hastily retired, and sunk down on +the seat, her cheek glowing with blushes. The prince continued to +advance, controlled by an influence he could not withstand, and coming +up to her, apologized as well as the confusion of his mind would +permit, for his unceremonious intrusion. + +The lady remained gazing at him, with mingled smiles and blushes, for +a few moments, and then addressed the prince in words that seemed to +come from a mouth of roses. + +"Don't you know me, my prince?" + +"Know you," faltered he, "I believe--I fear--I know you but too well. +You are the phantom beauty. The chosen instrument of the wicked +enchanter, Curmudgeon." + +"Alas! no. I am no phantom, nor, I trust, an instrument of mischief at +least to you. The phantom was formed in my likeness, because--because, +as the enchanter confessed, he could create nothing so beautiful as +myself by the utmost exertion of his arts." + +The prince gazed at her in a trance of admiration, for never, with the +single exception of the phantom, and the idol princess of his dreams, +had he seen a being so enchantingly lovely. The lady received his +scrutiny with smiles of modest pleasure, and at length repeated her +question-- + +"Do you not know me, my prince?" + +The prince emboldened by her smiles, or impelled by his destiny, +seated himself by her side, and gazed ardently, yet wistfully, in her +face. There was something in the expression of her eyes he fancied he +had seen before, but when or where he could not call to mind. At +length the lady, compassionating his perplexity, again anxiously +asked-- + +"Do you remember a certain little gold-fish?" + +"Remember? I shall never forget," and his eyes glistened. + +"Do you remember how you used to come to the crystal basin, at the +foot of the shining cascade, and stay all day long fondling a little +gold-fish, kissing its eyes, and hiding it in your bosom?" + +"Remember!" cried the prince, "the recollection constitutes the hope, +or rather the despair, of my life. Would that I could see my dear +little companion again. Methinks I should then be happy, or at least +die content." + +"Look in my face--look steadily," replied the lady, greatly agitated. + +Their eyes met, and that look of mutual intelligence which never +deceives, disclosed the mystery. He recognized at once that glance of +mingled love and gratitude he had so often seen beaming from the soft +expressive eyes of the little gold-fish. He started from her side, +threw himself at her feet, and exclaimed-- + +"Tell me--tell me! art not _thou_ my little gold-fish?" + +"I am," rejoined the lady. "Once thy little gold-fish, now thy +faithful and devoted handmaid, the Princess Violetta. It is to thy +constancy I am indebted for the recovery of my former self; and such +as I am, I will be to thee what thou choosest to make me." + +"Mine forever! my beloved, my adored wife!" cried the prince, as he +folded her in his arms, kissed her as he was wont to do the little +gold-fish, and at that moment reaped the reward of all his sufferings. + +After enjoying the first delights of mutual love, the princess said to +him, "Doubtless you are anxious to know how I came to be transformed +into a fish; and I will tell you now, that there may be nothing to +explain hereafter. I must begin early, for my misfortunes commenced +almost at my birth. I am the only child of King Grabyall, in whose +dominions you now are; and according to the universal custom of all +royal christenings, a great many fairies were invited to mine, and +some few vulgar things came without invitation. Among the latter was +an old fairy, so ill-natured and malicious, that, though very powerful +to do evil, no one would pay her the least attention; for they knew +that no kindness could conciliate the wicked old creature. Of course, +neither my father nor mother paid her the least attention, or made her +presents; and no one spoke a word to her, at which she flew into a +great rage, and went away shaking her wand, and mumbling in a spiteful +manner, 'Well, good people, you are all mighty silent now, but before +long you shall have talking enough, I promise you!' + +"Everybody laughed at the spiteful old woman--but it was no such +laughing matter, I assure you, my prince; for she was hardly out of +sight, when, to the astonishment of the whole court, I began to talk +with such volubility that nobody could keep pace with me. First I +scolded the nurse, then abused the fairies, and finally took my +parents to task roundly for attempting to stop me. The courtiers tried +to persuade them that this was only an omen of my precocious genius, +and that, beyond all doubt, I should one day become the wisest, most +eloquent princess in the world. But they remembered the threat of the +malicious old fairy, and became exceeding sorrowful. As I grew up my +volubility increased; I talked from morning till night, and all night +too. Sleeping or waking, it was just the same; and my voice was so +loud and shrill that it could be heard all over the palace. What +rendered the matter still worse, I was exceeding ill-natured, +satirical, and witty, insomuch, that all were afraid to come near me; +and I was obliged at last to talk to myself. It is necessary I should +apprise you that I grew up to great beauty, and by the time I was +sixteen, many of the neighboring princes came to pay their addresses +to me. But I never gave them an opportunity, for before they could +open their lips, I poured a torrent of satirical reproaches in their +ears that struck them all dumb; insomuch, that it was said some of +them never recovered their speech afterward. Do you not hate me, my +prince, for being such a termagant?" + +The prince, to say the truth, was a little startled at this detail, +but replied with a look that was perfectly satisfactory; and the +princess proceeded with her story. + +"At the age of seventeen, the enchanter, Curmudgeon, incited by the +report of my beauty, came to pay my father a visit--my mother being +long since dead. He at first sight fell violently in love, and +demanded me in marriage of my father, who, though a kind-hearted, good +man, was, I believe, heartily glad to get rid of me, but at the same +time frankly apprized him of my infirmity. 'O, ho!' answered the +enchanter, 'never mind that--I shall soon cure her, I warrant you.' He +then approached to make his declaration, when, being exceedingly +provoked at his slighting expressions, which I had overheard, I gave +him such an explosion of satire, spleen, and ill-nature, as he had +never probably heard before. I ridiculed his pretensions, scoffed at +his person, despised his offers, and defied his power, until he could +stand it no longer. Stamping his foot on the floor, waving his hand, +and muttering some cabalistic words, he at length cried out in a rage, +'BE DUMB FOREVER! or at least till such time as some prince shall be +fool enough to fall in love with you, and pine away until he makes no +shadow in the sun.' + +"At that moment I found myself changed into a gold-fish, and swimming +in the crystal basin where you first saw me. How long I remained there +before you made your appearance I cannot tell, but I know that I was +heartily tired of my loneliness, and at first felt the loss of speech +very severely. I rejoiced when I first saw you. Your caresses +penetrated my heart, and--you must forgive me, my dear prince--but +when I beheld you wasting away daily, and knew it was for love of me, +my happiness grew with your sorrows, for I felt that my deliverance +was at hand, and that I should live to reward you for all your +sufferings. The day the sun first shone full into the crystal basin, +and I saw that you cast no shadow there, you may remember, I suddenly +darted from your hand and disappeared. It was very ungrateful, but I +could not resist my destiny. I was instantly transformed to my +original likeness, and--but don't be alarmed, my prince, for I assure +you my propensity to talking was effectually and forever repressed, by +the long habit of silence I had preserved as the little gold-fish. I +was received by my father with affectionate welcome, and--and what +else shall I say? I have mourned your absence day after day, until I +almost ceased to hope that I should ever see you again. But," added +the princess, with a look of unutterable tenderness, "thou hast come +back once more to me--thou hast sought and found thy little gold-fish, +and I am happy." + +The prince had scarcely time to return suitable acknowledgments, and +vow eternal love, when they were roused by the sound of the hunter's +horn, announcing the return of King Grabyall from the chase. The +princess introduced him to the prince; and his majesty being in high +good humor, having been very successful that morning, beside having +an excellent appetite for dinner, received him most graciously. The +ardent prince lost no time in declaring his love; and King Grabyall, +knowing that he had been chosen to govern the territories of the +enchanter, Curmudgeon, beside inheriting all his vast riches, +graciously consented to the marriage. He did this the more willingly, +knowing from late experience that the princess, having fulfilled the +denunciation of the malicious old fairy, had survived her infirmity. + +There was never in this world such a splendid and happy wedding; and +what added to the pleasure of all parties, was seeing the good fairy, +Violetta, enter the superb saloon to honor the ceremony. + +"Welcome, my prince," said she, holding out her little, delicate hand, +"I congratulate you; you have triumphed by valor and constancy." + +When the ceremony was over, the prince inquired anxiously whether she +knew aught of his father, and was informed that he had married the +daughter of good King Doddipol, and was wasting his substance as fast +as possible, by giving _fêtes_ to the bride, and lending great sums to +his father-in-law. Prince Violet sighed at the fate of the Old Man of +the Hills, but in good time forgot all his griefs in the arms of love +and beauty. + +The Princess Violetta made a most excellent wife, and never afterward +talked more than became a reasonable woman. The wicked giant, who, it +should have been premised, had been extricated from the moat, and +finished his fit of sneezing, being freed from the diabolical +influence of the enchanter, Curmudgeon, took the pledge, became a +tetotailer, and lived ever after an example to all overgrown monsters, +past, present, and future. + + + + +THE VESPER BELL. + +BY PARK BENJAMIN. + + + How deep and mournfully at eve's sweet hour + The bell for vespers chimes its holiest note, + When the soft twilight lends its soothing power + And on the air a silence seems to float! + + The weary wand'rer knows a home of rest, + He toils not now who toiled the livelong day, + Friends cherish fondest recollections, blest + With thoughts of them whose love cannot decay, + + The best affections of the heart are told, + We greet with joy our dear, domestic hearth, + And think how strong the viewless bonds that hold + Unwearied love to transient things of Earth. + + And visions of his lyre the poet sees + At this lone time of Nature's sweet repose, + When fancied music, borne on every breeze, + Ĉolian-like, with thrilling sadness flows. + + Oh, then move thoughts, the holiest and best, + O'er the soul's calm and mild serenity, + Like beauteous birds that skim along the breast + Of the still waters in some waveless sea. + + Where that deep bell sends forth its solemn tone, + How many worship at Devotion's shrine! + How many voices rise before the throne + Whence the bright glories of the Godhead shine! + + Not when the glories of th' opening day + With crimson blushes usher in the dawn, + Not when the noontide pours its deepest ray + On forest, glade, blue lake and emerald lawn; + + Not when the moonbeams shed their silvery light + In richest lustre over copse and dell, + Come sainted hopes, sweet dreams and fancies bright + As when through shadows sounds the Vesper Bell. + + + + +THE TEACHER TAUGHT. + +BY MARY S. ADAMS. + + +"Three months' imprisonment! Heigho!" soliloquized Harvey Hall, as he +entered the school-room, and surveyed the array of seats before him. +"Well, poverty is a crime punished not only by one's state and +country, but by the whole world. Here am I longing for a profession +which shall give some play to my mind, which shall enable me to take a +stand among men; and now to purchase that profession I must 'teach +young ideas' till the requisite sum is obtained. The daughters of +Darius were condemned for the murder of their husbands to fill leaky +vessels in Tartarus--that is, they became teachers! It is hard that +those who have neither _been_ nor _murdered_ husbands should endure +like punishment." + +Harvey Hall always spoke the truth, albeit sometimes the truth a +little _swollen_; so he was, as he said, condemned to a temporary +reign over children and spelling-books, in order to pursue his +studies--for the expenses of which the limited finances of his parents +would not suffice; and he had taken the academy at L., with the due +announcement of all his qualifications in the county newspaper. + +"Some bright faces here," thought he, as his eyes glanced over those +of his scholars upturned to him, and rested on one with eyes bright +enough to light Cupid on his way to any untenanted heart, but bearing +the expression of smothered mirth, never relished by those who do not +happen to know the _mot d'enigme_. Small white fingers traced +something rapidly on the slate, which was then given to a young lady, +who, on the perusal of its characters, gave a stifled laugh, and +buried her face in a handkerchief. But the author of the mischief, +whatever it was, instantly turned to gravity, and met the searching +gaze of Hall with a demure look which amused him not a little. + +"That daughter of Parson Hinton finds fun enough in something. I wish +her father could preach her into better behavior. She is the most +troublesome sprite I have in school. Young ladies," he said, assuming +all the dignity of his position, "less whispering, and more attention +to your studies would conduce to your improvement." + +Annie Hinton and her chum took their books, and were soon apparently +absorbed in them. Annie met with some question she could not solve; +and taking her book to the teacher, she asked an explanation. It was +given. + +"And you made an observation just now, sir, which I wish to remember. +Will you be so kind as to repeat it," she added, bending toward him +with the greatest mock attention and deference. + +It is said that the worst reception of a compliment is to request its +repetition; and the remark is just as applicable to a reproof. +Certainly Harvey Hall found it so. Impudence he could have met +successfully; but there was something in the arch air of respect, so +evidently assumed, and in the polite tone accompanying bright eyes +which _would_ almost laugh out, which told him that the present scene +would figure in some after frolic formidable enough to young gentlemen +who are never proof against the ridicule of mirthful girls in their +teens. He longed to laugh with her at it all, but an assembled school, +a roguish scholar, would not exactly admit of this; so, coloring a +little, and then provoked at himself for the _gossiping_ blood which +betrayed his inward embarrassment, he said, + +"Oh, merely that study is more appropriate to the school-room than +amusement. I shall be happy to have it dwell in your memory and +practice, Miss Hinton." + +Annie bowed gracefully, gravely, and turned away, but not before Hall +mentally resolved never to admonish her again if he could avoid it. + +When the day for compositions came--that bore which all parties would +gladly overlook instead of look over--Hall, dreading trite essays on +all the hackneyed themes of school, told the misses under his charge +to write on any thing that interested them--they might describe some +of the manners and customs among them. + +"But we have _no manners_, and very few customs, Mr. Hall," said +Annie. + +"Well, select any subject that pleases yourself, Miss Annie." + +The composition was on Dignity, and was so ludicrous, so _personal_ a +description of it, that Mr. Hall was fairly puzzled. What shall I say +to this merry damsel, who seems to turn into sport all I say or do. I +cannot correct her. + +"Miss Hinton, carry this home to your father, and see if he says it is +a proper article for you to bring in as a composition." + +The next day it was returned with, "My father thinks Dignity one of +the finest things he has ever seen," she said, half hesitating, as if +unwilling to utter such praise, but looking as if all the spirits of +fun had taken the opportunity to look out of her eyes. Of course, her +reverend parent had never had a glimpse of it--and this her teacher +very well knew. + +But why watch her with more interest than all the "well behaved" of +his school? In accordance with Scripture, he left the ninety and nine +just ones, to search for the one who went astray. The lessons she +recited had for him a double interest; the days she was absent were +like the dull, gray sky of autumn--nay, several times he even +acknowledged to himself that teaching was _not_ the dull routine he +had supposed, and the term of his probation had not the leaden wings +he had anticipated. + +But there was an apprehension to disturb the tenor of his thoughts, +and fall heavily upon his official capacity. He had--yes, he certainly +had seen Annie Hinton receive a billet from Charles Lane; and Charles +Lane was a bright youth--a fine scholar--ready to enter college the +next term--and just her age. It was wrong, decidedly wrong, to have +any silly flirtations between mere boys and girls--he had always +considered it so; but now it was wonderful to see how strong his +reasoning, and firm his opinions were on this subject. And personal +experience _has_ an extraordinary power in giving edge to moral +reflections; how it draws them out of the shade, concentrates and +clinches them. + +Well, Harvey Hall felt really grieved that scholars should have their +attention drawn away from their studies by such nonsense as a +children's love affair. Charles Lane was a promising boy to be sure; +but he must go through college, and be settled in life before he ought +to think of fancying any one. He might become dissipated--such bright +boys often did; or fickle--in short, no one knew which rein of his +character the future might pull. And Annie--pretty creature--who could +not pass a day without some mirthful episode, how ridiculous for a +child like her to think of selecting a lover! her mind was not +disciplined at all--her taste not pronounced; she might make a +different choice when she really knew her own wishes, and had seen +more of the world. It would be wrong to entangle herself with any +passing fancy like the present--really wrong to suffer a child to make +a decision by which the _woman_ must abide. And then the good minister +would be shocked to see his plaything, Annie, forming any foolish +attachment. Yes, he must do all he could to prevent it. But how could +Parson Hinton be so blind? The other evening when he called there, +Charles Lane knocked at the door, to bring a slip of geranium, which +he had walked several miles to get for Annie; and the old gentleman +only said, "You are very obliging, Charles--drop in and see us often." +So strange, not to know it was just like such precocious youths to +fancy themselves in love with every pretty girl. So laws were enacted +stricter than those of the Medes and Persians, against all billets +passed in school; as if Cupid, had he made the essay, would not have +delighted to jeopardize all regulations, and fly in the face of all +laws. + +One day as Mr. Hall was ascending the steps to enter school, he saw +Annie give Charles Lane a knitted purse, and heard her say something +about "the phillipina." As I said, he was _principled_ against such +interchange of sentiment, or gifts, between such children; but the +present instance did not come precisely under his dominion, being +_out_ of school--and he entered upon his duties with a somewhat cloudy +brow. Every one has observed how much the sky of his feelings +influences the earth of reality. If one wakes "out of tune" in the +morning, the events of the day seldom harmonize him. Let you walk out +in a city, feeling blue and burthened, and how many things conspire to +annoy you. You are blinded by dust, or contaminated with mud, or the +snow slumps, or your feet slip at every step; a child is almost run +over in the street; people jostle rudely; the bell tolls; the +town-crier seems to scream at every corner where you turn; the lady +you particularly admire is talking with vast animation to ----, and +does not even perceive you; a bow thrown away; Mr. Lawkens, the deaf +man, will cross over to speak to you, but cannot hear your answer, +although you have repeated it the third time; a gust of wind blows off +your hat, and a bore holds you by the button to tell you, what you +well knew, the election has gone against your favorite candidate; +while you inwardly exclaim, "misfortunes never come single." + +Our pedagogue had a hazy atmosphere around his spirit this day--and +nothing cleared it. The recitations were miserable, and the boys full +of pranks--which boys are heir to; the girls were any thing but +book-intent. The class in chemistry was called, and as Mr. Hall was +performing some experiments on the apparatus, he said, + +"Now, when I apply this, you will see that--it wont go," he added, as +the desired result, from some cause, failed. + +"Certainly, we see it," smilingly whispered Annie to the next on her +seat. + +The sound reached Mr. Hall, already mortified by the failure of the +experiment. + +"Miss Hinton," he exclaimed, in a loud, stern tone, "take your books, +and go home." + +Annie looked surprised, as well she might, and waited, as if to be +sure she did not misunderstand him. The attention of the school was +roused--there could be no revocation--so the mandate was repeated, and +obeyed. + +Poor Hall! his chemical manipulations were no more successful that +day; classes were called, and heard at random. The small scholars +thought "it was a grand time--master did not seem to mind them;" while +older ones wondered at his unwonted humor. Meanwhile his reflections +were any thing but agreeable. How could he have been so harsh for such +a trifle, and ungentlemanly too. All Annie's faults were the mere +exuberance of a joyous spirit; and she was quick to acknowledge and +regret them; and yet he had not expostulated, but abruptly commanded +her to leave. How she must despise him! And she had a great deal of +sensibility; he had seen the color suffuse her face, and the tears +glisten in her dark eyes, when a tale of sorrow or delicious poem had +excited her emotion. Perhaps she was at that very moment weeping at +his harshness; and then proofs of interest in _him_, albeit she was a +laughter-loving spirit, stole over his memory. He thought of an +evening he had lately passed at her house, when his conversation +seemed to rivet her attention, although he afterward heard her say, +"There! Mary Jane has a party to-night, and I entirely forgot it until +too late. Well, I have enjoyed myself better here." And _he_, the +ingrate! how had he returned it, by unwarrantable rudeness! She was +just beginning to talk to him with confiding frankness of her books, +her tastes, and opening to _his_ study a mind as well worth it as the +changing loveliness of her face--when this folly had destroyed it all. +And what would the good minister say? He who had received him so +kindly; so hospitably told him to come to him at any and all times +when he could be of assistance--what would _he_ say to have his pet, +at once his amusement and pride, turned out of school like any common +urchin? + +Oh! how the hours of school dragged. Every moment seemed to bear a +weight of lead, and carry to the luckless teacher a thousand arrows +poisoned by self-reproach. No sooner was his fiat of release obtained, +than with mingled regret and apprehension, he wended his steps to the +parsonage. He knocked at the door, desired to see Mr. Hinton, and was +accordingly shown up into his study. + +"He looks as if something lay on his mind," thought the clergyman, as +he saw him enter, and advanced to shake hands with him. "Perhaps he is +considering the concerns of his soul. Heaven help me to counsel him +aright!" and there was an unusual kindliness in his tone, as he urged +him to be seated, which was "heaping coals of fire" on the head of the +conscience-stricken teacher. + +A pause. "I am--I have called--I regret--" + +"Ah, yes," mentally ejaculated the old man, "he feels the burden of +sin, and is under conviction, I see--" + +"In short, sir, I am sorry to trouble you at this time, but I--" + +"Speak out freely, my dear young man," said his benignant listener. + +Is it possible he does not know what has passed? + +"I regret to say that, vexed by the inattention of the scholars, and +by whispering, in which Miss Annie joined, I hastily told her to leave +school." + +"Told my daughter Annie to leave school!" + +The door of the study was thrown open, and Annie danced into the +middle of the room, her bonnet hanging on her arm, flowers in her +hair, and a bouquet in her hand, fresh from the woods in which she had +been rambling. "Father! father!" she stopped, and gazed first at her +father, and then at Mr. Hall, with a mingled expression of regret and +surprise. Her long walk that afternoon had given her a heightened +color; and the varied feelings which moved her were clearly depicted +on her face. + +"Come here, Annie," said Hall, extending his hand, "come here, and say +you forgive the rudeness of this afternoon." She hesitated an +instant--the crimson deepened on her cheek, and the lip slightly +trembled; then looking up with one of her own radiant smiles, she gave +her small, white hand to the teacher. + +Not long after he made another visit to the good minister's study, +not, indeed, to ask forgiveness for turning Annie out of school, but +to beg permission to transplant her one day to a home of his own. +Whatever was said, we suspect Annie might have served as "an instance +in point" for that rather broad generalization of Swift, + + "No girl is pleased with what is taught + But has _the teacher_ in her thought." + +"Young gentlemen," said Harvey Hall, (Judge Hall then,) when some +years afterward two or three of his law students were spending the +evening at his hospitable mansion, "young gentlemen, never regret the +necessity of exerting yourself in order to obtain your profession; for +beside the habit of _self-help_ thus formed, which is invaluable, you +may," he added, glancing archly at the face, fair as ever, of her who +sat with muslin stitchery by the centre-table, "meet with a wayside +rose as precious as Annie." + + + + +THE SUNBEAM. + +(FROM THE FRENCH OF LAMARTINE.) + + + Come! watch with me this sunbeam, as o'er the moss bank green + It glides, and enters swiftly the foliage dark between; + Resting its golden lever, of mystic length and line, + Upon the dewy herbage, in an oblique decline: + Toward its moving column the stamen of the flowers + Whirl, as by strong attraction; and through the daylight hours + Gay insects, azure atoms, with every-colored wing, + Swim 'mid the light, still lending fresh sparkles as they spring. + + See! how in cadenced measure they gravitate below, + Now linking, then unlinking, in quick, harmonious flow; + Of Plato's worlds ideal the semblance here appears, + Those worlds that danced in circles to the music of the spheres: + So small is every atom, amid yon countless band, + That hosts of them were needful to make a grain of sand; + They form the lowest step of that brilliant ladder trod, + Ascending from the light mote to the all-present God. + + And yet a separate being exists in every part, + Within each airy globule there dwells a beating heart; + One world, perchance, presiding o'er worlds unnumbered, free, + To which the lightning's passage is an eternity; + Yet, doubtless, each enjoying, within their drop of space, + Days, nights, in all fulfilling their order and their place; + And while in wondrous ecstasy, man's throbbing eye looks on, + A thousand worlds are ended, their destinies are won! + + O God! how vast the sources which feed such life and death, + How piercing is that vision which marks out every breath; + How infinite that Spirit which cherishes each grade; + And more than all, how boundless that love, free, unrepaid, + Which nurtures into being each particle that floats, + Descending from far sun-worlds to microscopic motes; + O God! so grand and awful in yonder little ray, + What thought dare seek to fathom the blaze of thy full day? + + MARY E. LEE. + + + + +THE ISLETS OF THE GULF; + +OR, ROSE BUDD. + + Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool + I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but + Travelers must be content. AS YOU LIKE IT. + +BY THE AUTHOR OF "PILOT," "RED ROVER," "TWO ADMIRALS," +"WING-AND-WING," "MILES WALLINGFORD," ETC. + + +[Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by J. +Fenimore Cooper, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the +United States, for the Northern District of New York.] + +(_Continued from page_ 293.) + + + + +PART XV. + + The screams of rage, the groan, the strife, + The blow, the grasp, the horrid cry, + The panting, throttled prayer for life, + The dying's heaving sigh, + The murderer's curse, the dead man's fixed, still glare, + And fear's and death's cold sweat--they all are there. + MATTHEW LEE. + + +It was high time that Capt. Spike should arrive when his foot touched +the bottom of the yawl. The men were getting impatient and anxious to +the last degree, and the power of Señor Montefalderon to control them +was lessening each instant. They heard the rending of timber, and the +grinding on the coral, even more distinctly than the captain himself, +and feared that the brig would break up while they lay alongside of +her, and crush them amid the ruins. Then the spray of the seas that +broke over the weather side of the brig, fell like rain upon them; and +every body in the boat was already as wet as if exposed to a violent +shower. It was well, therefore, for Spike that he descended into the +boat as he did, for another minute's delay might have brought about +his own destruction. + +Spike felt a chill at his heart when he looked about him and saw the +condition of the yawl. So crowded were the stern-sheets into which he +had descended, that it was with difficulty he found room to place his +feet; it being his intention to steer, Jack was ordered to get into +the eyes of the boat, in order to give him a seat. The thwarts were +crowded, and three or four of the people had placed themselves in the +very bottom of the little craft, in order to be as much as possible +out of the way, as well as in readiness to bail out water. So +seriously, indeed, were all the seamen impressed with the gravity of +this last duty, that nearly every man had taken with him some vessel +fit for such a purpose. Rowing was entirely out of the question, there +being no space for the movement of the arms. The yawl was too low in +the water, moreover, for such an operation in so heavy a sea. In all, +eighteen persons were squeezed into a little craft that would have +been sufficiently loaded, for moderate weather at sea, with its four +oarsmen and as many sitters in the stern-sheets, with, perhaps, one in +the eyes to bring her more on an even keel. In other words, she had +just twice the weight in her, in living freight, that it would have +been thought prudent to receive in so small a craft, in an ordinary +time, in or out of a port. In addition to the human beings enumerated, +there was a good deal of baggage, nearly every individual having had +the forethought to provide a few clothes for a change. The food and +water did not amount to much, no more having been provided than enough +for the purposes of the captain, together with the four men with whom +it had been his intention to abandon the brig. The effect of all this +cargo was to bring the yawl quite low in the water; and every +seafaring man in her had the greatest apprehensions about her being +able to float at all when she got out from under the lee of the Swash, +or into the troubled water. Try it she must, however, and Spike, in a +reluctant and hesitating manner, gave the final order to "Shove off!" + +The yawl carried a lugg, as is usually the case with boats at sea, and +the first blast of the breeze upon it satisfied Spike that his present +enterprise was one of the most dangerous of any in which he had ever +been engaged. The puffs of wind were quite as much as the boat would +bear; but this he did not mind, as he was running off before it, and +there was little danger of the yawl capsizing with such a weight in +her. It was also an advantage to have swift way on, to prevent the +combing waves from shooting into the boat, though the wind itself +scarce outstrips the send of the sea in a stiff blow. As the yawl +cleared the brig and began to feel the united power of the wind and +waves, the following short dialogue occurred between the boatswain and +Spike. + +"I dare not keep my eyes off the breakers ahead," the captain +commenced, "and must trust to you, Strand, to report what is going on +among the man-of-war's men. What is the ship about?" + +"Reefing her top-sails just now, sir. All three are on the caps, and +the vessel is laying-too, in a manner." + +"And her boats?" + +"I see none, sir--ay, ay, there they come from alongside of her in a +little fleet! There are four of them, sir, and all are coming down +before the wind, wing and wing, carrying their luggs reefed." + +"Ours ought to be reefed by rights, too, but we dare not stop to do +it; and these infernal combing seas seem ready to glance aboard us +with all the way we can gather. Stand by to bail, men; we must pass +through a strip of white water--there is no help for it. God send that +we go clear of the rocks!" + +All this was fearfully true. The adventurers were not yet more than a +cable's length from the brig, and they found themselves so completely +environed with the breakers as to be compelled to go through them. No +man in his senses would ever have come into such a place at all, +except in the most unavoidable circumstances; and it was with a +species of despair that the seamen of the yawl now saw their little +craft go plunging into the foam. + +But Spike neglected no precaution that experience or skill could +suggest. He had chosen his spot with coolness and judgment. As the +boat rose on the seas he looked eagerly ahead, and by giving it a +timely sheer, he hit a sort of channel, where there was sufficient +water to carry them clear of the rock, and where the breakers were +less dangerous than in the shoaler places. The passage lasted about a +minute; and so serious was it, that scarce an individual breathed +until it was effected. No human skill could prevent the water from +combing in over the gunwales; and when the danger was passed, the yawl +was a third filled with water. There was no time or place to pause, +but on the little craft was dragged almost gunwale to, the breeze +coming against the lugg in puffs that threatened to take the mast out +of her. All hands were bailing; and even Biddy used her hands to aid +in throwing out the water. + +"This is no time to hesitate, men," said Spike, sternly. "Every thing +must go overboard but the food and water. Away with them at once, and +with a will." + +It was a proof how completely all hands were alarmed by this, the +first experiment in the breakers, that not a man stayed his hand a +single moment, but each threw into the sea, without an instant of +hesitation, every article he had brought with him and had hoped to +save. Biddy parted with the carpet-bag, and Señor Montefalderon, +feeling the importance of example, committed to the deep a small +writing-desk that he had placed on his knees. The doubloons alone +remained, safe in a little locker where Spike had deposited them along +with his own. + +"What news astern, boatswain?" demanded the captain, as soon as this +imminent danger was passed, absolutely afraid to turn his eyes off the +dangers ahead for a single instant. "How come on the man-of-war's +men?" + +"They are running down in a body toward the wreck, though one of their +boats does seem to be sheering out of the line, as if getting into our +wake. It is hard to say, sir, for they are still a good bit to +windward of the wreck." + +"And the Molly, Strand?" + +"Why, sir, the Molly seems to be breaking up fast; as well as I can +see, she has broke in two just abaft the fore-chains, and cannot hold +together in any shape at all many minutes longer." + +This information drew a deep groan from Spike, and the eye of every +seaman in the boat was turned in melancholy on the object they were +so fast leaving behind them. The yawl could not be said to be sailing +very rapidly, considering the power of the wind, which was a little +gale, for she was much too deep for that; but she left the wreck so +fast as already to render objects on board her indistinct. Everybody +saw that, like an overburthened steed, she had more to get along with +than she could well bear; and, dependent as seamen usually are on the +judgment and orders of their superiors, even in the direst +emergencies, the least experienced man in her saw that their chances +of final escape from drowning were of the most doubtful nature. The +men looked at each other in a way to express their feelings; and the +moment seemed favorable to Spike to confer with his confidential +sea-dogs in private; but more white water was also ahead, and it was +necessary to pass through it, since no opening was visible by which to +avoid it. He deferred his purpose, consequently, until this danger was +escaped. + +On this occasion Spike saw but little opportunity to select a place to +get through the breakers, though the spot, as a whole, was not of the +most dangerous kind. The reader will understand that the preservation +of the boat at all, in white water, was owing to the circumstance that +the rocks all around it lay so near the surface of the sea as to +prevent the possibility of agitating the element very seriously, and +to the fact that she was near the lee side of the reef. Had the +breakers been of the magnitude of those which are seen where the deep +rolling billows of the ocean first meet the weather side of shoals or +rocks, a craft of that size, and so loaded, could not possibly have +passed the first line of white water without filling. As it was, +however, the breakers she had to contend with were sufficiently +formidable, and they brought with them the certainty that the boat was +in imminent danger of striking the bottom at any moment. Places like +those in which Mulford had waded on the reef, while it was calm, would +now have proved fatal to the strongest frame, since human powers were +insufficient long to withstand the force of such waves as did glance +over even these shallows. + +"Look out!" cried Spike, as the boat again plunged in among the white +water. "Keep bailing, men--keep bailing." + +The men did bail, and the danger was over almost as soon as +encountered. Something like a cheer burst out of the chest of Spike, +when he saw deeper water around him, and fancied he could now trace a +channel that would carry him quite beyond the extent of the reef. It +was arrested, only half uttered, however, by a communication from the +boatswain, who sat on a midship thwart, his arms folded, and his eye +on the brig and the boats. + +"There goes the Molly's masts, sir! Both have gone together; and as +good sticks was they, before them bomb-shells passed through our +rigging, as was ever stepped in a keelson." + +The cheer was changed to something like a groan, while a murmur of +regret passed through the boat. + +"What news from the man-of-war's men, boatswain? Do they still stand +down on a mere wreck?" + +"No, sir; they seem to give it up, and are getting out their oars to +pull back to their ship. A pretty time they'll have of it, too. The +cutter that gets to windward half a mile in an hour, ag'in such a sea, +and such a breeze, must be well pulled and better steered. One chap, +however, sir, seems to hold on." + +Spike now ventured to look behind him, commanding an experienced hand +to take the helm. In order to do this he was obliged to change places +with the man he had selected to come aft, which brought him on a +thwart alongside of the boatswain and one or two other of his +confidents. Here a whispered conference took place, which lasted +several minutes, Spike appearing to be giving instructions to the men. + +By this time the yawl was more than a mile from the wreck, all the +man-of-war boats but one had lowered their sails, and were pulling +slowly and with great labor back toward the ship, the cutter that kept +on, evidently laying her course after the yawl, instead of standing on +toward the wreck. The brig was breaking up fast, with every +probability that nothing would be left of her in a few more minutes. +As for the yawl, while clear of the white water, it got along without +receiving many seas aboard, though the men in its bottom were kept +bailing without intermission. It appeared to Spike that so long as +they remained on the reef, and could keep clear of breakers--a most +difficult thing, however--they should fare better than if in deeper +water, where the swell of the sea, and the combing of the waves, +menaced so small and so deep-loaded a craft with serious danger. As it +was, two or three men could barely keep the boat clear, working +incessantly, and much of the time with a foot or two of water in her. + +Josh and Simon had taken their seats, side by side, with that sort of +dependence and submission that causes the American black to abstain +from mingling with the whites more than might appear seemly. They were +squeezed on to one end of the thwart by a couple of robust old +sea-dogs, who were two of the very men with whom Spike had been in +consultation. Beneath that very thwart was stowed another confident, +to whom communications had also been made. These men had sailed long +in the Swash, and having been picked up in various ports, from time to +time, as the brig had wanted hands, they were of nearly as many +different nations as they were persons. Spike had obtained a great +ascendency over them by habit and authority, and his suggestions were +now received as a sort of law. As soon as the conference was ended, +the captain returned to the helm. + +A minute more passed, during which the captain was anxiously surveying +the reef ahead, and the state of things astern. Ahead was more white +water--the last before they should get clear of the reef; and astern +it was now settled that the cutter that held on through the dangers of +the place, was in chase of the yawl. That Mulford was in her Spike +made no doubt; and the thought embittered even his present calamities. +But the moment had arrived for something decided. The white water +ahead was much more formidable than any they had passed; and the +boldest seaman there gazed at it with dread. Spike made a sign to the +boatswain, and commenced the execution of his dire project. + +"I say, you Josh," called out the captain, in the authoritative tones +that are so familiar to all on board a ship, "pull in that fender that +is dragging alongside." + +Josh leaned over the gunwale, and reported that there was no fender +out. A malediction followed, also so familiar to those acquainted with +ships, and the black was told to look again. This time, as had been +expected, the negro leaned with his head and body far over the side of +the yawl, to look for that which had no existence, when two of the men +beneath the thwart shoved _his_ legs after them. Josh screamed, as he +found himself going into the water, with a sort of confused +consciousness of the truth; and Spike called out to Simon to "catch +hold of his brother-nigger." The cook bent forward to obey, when a +similar assault on _his_ legs from beneath the thwart, sent him +headlong after Josh. One of the younger seamen, who was not in the +secret, sprang up to rescue Simon, who grasped his extended hand, when +the too generous fellow was pitched headlong from the boat. + +All this occurred in less than ten seconds of time, and so +unexpectedly and naturally, that not a soul beyond those who were in +the secret, had the least suspicion it was any thing but an accident. +Some water was shipped, of necessity, but the boat was soon bailed +free. As for the victims of this vile conspiracy, they disappeared +amid the troubled waters of the reef, struggling with each other. Each +and all met the common fate so much the sooner, from the manner in +which they impeded their own efforts. + +The yawl was now relieved from about five hundred pounds of the weight +it had carried--Simon weighing two hundred alone, and the youngish +seaman being large and full. So intense does human selfishness get to +be, in moments of great emergency, that it is to be feared most of +those who remained, secretly rejoiced that they were so far benefitted +by the loss of their fellows. The Señor Montefalderon was seated on +the aftermost thwart, with his legs in the stern-sheets, and +consequently with his back toward the negroes, and he fully believed +that what had happened was purely accidental. + +"Let us lower our sail, Don Esteban," he cried, eagerly, "and save the +poor fellows." + +Something very like a sneer gleamed on the dark countenance of the +captain, but it suddenly changed to a look of assent. + +"Good!" he said, hastily--"spring forward, Don Wan, and lower the +sail--stand by the oars, men!" + +Without pausing to reflect, the generous-hearted Mexican stepped on a +thwart, and began to walk rapidly forward, steadying himself by +placing his hands on the heads of the men. He was suffered to get as +far as the second thwart, or past most of the conspirators, when his +legs were seized from behind. The truth now flashed on him, and +grasping two of the men in his front, who knew nothing of Spike's dire +scheme, he endeavored to save himself by holding to their jackets. +Thus assailed, those men seized others with like intent, and an awful +struggle filled all that part of the craft. At this dread instant the +boat glanced into the white water, shipping so much of the element as +nearly to swamp her, and taking so wild a sheer as nearly to +broach-to. This last circumstance probably saved her, fearful as was +the danger for the moment. Everybody in the middle of the yawl was +rendered desperate by the amount and nature of the danger incurred, +and the men from the bottom rose in their might, underneath the +combatants, when a common plunge was made by all who stood erect, one +dragging overboard another, each a good deal hastened by the assault +from beneath, until no less than five were gone. Spike got his helm +up, the boat fell off, and away from the spot it flew, clearing the +breakers, and reaching the northern wall-like margin of the reef at +the next instant. There was now a moment when those who remained could +breathe, and dared to look behind them. + +The great plunge had been made in water so shoal, that the boat had +barely escaped being dashed to pieces on the coral. Had it not been so +suddenly relieved from the pressure of near a thousand pounds in +weight, it is probable that this calamity would have befallen it, the +water received on board contributing so much to weigh it down. The +struggle between these victims ceased, however, the moment they went +over. Finding bottom for their feet, they released each other, in a +desperate hope of prolonging life by wading. Two or three held out +their arms, and shouted to Spike to return and pick them up. This +dreadful scene lasted but a single instant, for the waves dashed one +after another from his feet, continually forcing them all, as they +occasionally regained their footing, toward the margin of the reef, +and finally washing them off it into deep water. No human power could +enable a man to swim back to the rocks, once to leeward of them, in +the face of such seas, and so heavy a blow; and the miserable wretches +disappeared in succession, as their strength became exhausted, in the +depths of the gulf. + +Not a word had been uttered while this terrific scene was in the +course of occurrence; not a word was uttered for some time afterward. +Gleams of grim satisfaction had been seen on the countenances of the +boatswain, and his associates, when the success of their nefarious +project was first assured; but they soon disappeared in looks of +horror, as they witnessed the struggles of the drowning men. +Nevertheless, human selfishness was strong within them all, and none +there was so ignorant as not to perceive how much better were the +chances of the yawl now than it had been on quitting the wreck. The +weight of a large ox had been taken from it, counting that of all the +eight men drowned; and as for the water shipped, it was soon bailed +back again into the sea. Not only, therefore, was the yawl in a better +condition to resist the waves, but it sailed materially faster than it +had done before. Ten persons still remained in it, however, which +brought it down in the water below its proper load-line; and the speed +of a craft so small was necessarily a good deal lessened by the least +deviation from its best sailing, or rowing trim. But Spike's projects +were not yet completed. + +All this time the man-of-war's cutter had been rushing as madly +through the breakers, in chase, as the yawl had done in the attempt to +escape. Mulford was, in fact, on board it; and his now fast friend, +Wallace, was in command. The latter wished to seize a traitor, the +former to save the aunt of his weeping bride. Both believed that they +might follow wherever Spike dared to lead. This reasoning was more +bold than judicious notwithstanding, since the cutter was much larger, +and drew twice as much water as the yawl. On it came, nevertheless, +faring much better in the white water than the little craft it +pursued, but necessarily running a much more considerable risk of +hitting the coral, over which it was glancing almost as swiftly as the +waves themselves; still it had thus far escaped--and little did any in +it think of the danger. This cutter pulled ten oars; was an excellent +sea boat; had four armed marines in it, in addition to its crew, but +carried all through the breakers, receiving scarcely a drop of water +on board, on account of the height of its wash-boards, and the general +qualities of the craft. It may be well to add here, that the +Poughkeepsie had shaken out her reefs, and was betraying the +impatience of Capt. Mull to make sail in chase, by firing signal guns +to his boats to bear a hand and return. These signals the three boats +under their oars were endeavoring to obey, but Wallace had got so far +to leeward as now to render the course he was pursuing the wisest. + +Mrs. Budd and Biddy had seen the struggle in which the Señor +Montefalderon had been lost, in a sort of stupid horror. Both had +screamed, as was their wont, though neither probably suspected the +truth. But the fell designs of Spike extended to them, as well as to +those whom he had already destroyed. Now the boat was in deep water, +running along the margin of the reef, the waves were much increased in +magnitude, and the comb of the sea was far more menacing to the boat. +This would not have been the case had the rocks formed a lee; but they +did not, running too near the direction of the trades to prevent the +billows that got up a mile or so in the offing, from sending their +swell quite home to the reef. It was this swell, indeed, which caused +the line of white water along the northern margin of the coral, +washing on the rocks by a sort of lateral effort, and breaking, as a +matter of course. In many places no boat could have lived to pass +through it. + +Another consideration influenced Spike to persevere. The cutter had +been overhauling him, hand over hand, but since the yawl was relieved +of the weight of no less than eight men, the difference in the rate of +sailing was manifestly diminished. The man-of-war's boat drew nearer, +but by no means as fast as it had previously done. A point was now +reached in the trim of the yawl, when a very few hundreds in weight +might make the most important change in her favor; and this change the +captain was determined to produce. By this time the cutter was in deep +water, as well as himself, safe through all the dangers of the reef, +and she was less than a quarter of a mile astern. On the whole, she +was gaining, though so slowly as to require the most experienced eye +to ascertain the fact. + +"Madame Budd," said Spike, in a hypocritical tone, "we are in great +danger, and I shall have to ask you to change your seat. The boat is +too much by the starn, now we've got into deep water, and your weight +amidships would be a great relief to us. Just give your hand to the +boatswain, and he will help you to step from thwart to thwart, until +you reach the right place, when Biddy shall follow." + +Now Mrs. Budd had witnessed the tremendous struggle in which so many +had gone overboard, but so dull was she of apprehension, and so little +disposed to suspect any thing one-half so monstrous as the truth, that +she did not hesitate to comply. She was profoundly awed by the horrors +of the scene through which she was passing, the raging billows of the +gulf, as seen from so small a craft, producing a deep impression on +her; still a lingering of her most inveterate affectation was to be +found in her air and language, which presented a strange medley of +besetting weakness, and strong, natural, womanly affection. + +"Certainly, Capt. Spike," she answered, rising. "A craft should never +go astern, and I am quite willing to ballast the boat. We have seen +such terrible accidents to-day, that all should lend their aid in +endeavoring to get under way, and in averting all possible hamper. +Only take me to my poor, dear Rosy, Capt. Spike, and every thing shall +be forgotten that has passed between us. This is not a moment to bear +malice; and I freely pardon you all and every thing. The fate of our +unfortunate friend, Mr. Montefalderon, should teach us charity, and +cause us to prepare for untimely ends." + +All the time the good widow was making this speech, which she uttered +in a solemn and oracular sort of manner, she was moving slowly toward +the seat the men had prepared for her, in the middle of the boat, +assisted with the greatest care and attention by the boatswain and +another of Spike's confidents. When on the second thwart from aft, and +about to take her seat, the boatswain cast a look behind him, and +Spike put the helm down. The boat luffed and lurched, of course, and +Mrs. Budd would probably have gone overboard to leeward, by so sudden +and violent a change, had not the impetus thus received been aided by +the arms of the men who held her two hands. The plunge she made into +the water was deep, for she was a woman of great weight for her +stature. Still, she was not immediately gotten rid of. Even at that +dread instant, it is probable that the miserable woman did not suspect +the truth, for she grasped the hand of the boatswain with the tenacity +of a vice, and, thus dragged on the surface of the boiling surges, she +screamed aloud for Spike to save her. Of all who had yet been +sacrificed to the captain's selfish wish to save himself, this was the +first instance in which any had been heard to utter a sound, after +falling into the sea. The appeal shocked even the rude beings around +her, and Biddy chiming in with a powerful appeal to "save the missus!" +added to the piteous nature of the scene. + +"Cast off her hand," said Spike reproachfully, "she'll swamp the boat +by her struggles--get rid of her at once! Cut her fingers off if she +wont let go." + +The instant these brutal orders were given, and that in a fierce, +impatient tone, the voice of Biddy was heard no more. The truth forced +itself on her dull imagination, and she sat a witness of the terrible +scene, in mute despair. The struggle did not last long. The boatswain +drew his knife across the wrist of the hand that grasped his own, one +shriek was heard, and the boat plunged into the trough of a sea, +leaving the form of poor Mrs. Budd struggling with the wave on its +summit, and amid the foam of its crest. This was the last that was +ever seen of the unfortunate relict. + +"The boat has gained a good deal by that last discharge of cargo," +said Spike to the boatswain, a minute after they had gotten rid of the +struggling woman--"she is much more lively, and is getting nearer to +her load-line. If we can bring her to _that_, I shall have no fear of +the man-of-war's men; for this yawl is one of the fastest boats that +ever floated." + +"A very little _now_, sir, would bring us to our true trim." + +"Ay, we must get rid of more cargo. Come, good woman," turning to +Biddy, with whom he did not think it worth his while to use much +circumlocution, "_your_ turn is next. It's the maid's duty to follow +her mistress." + +"I know'd it _must_ come," said Biddy, meekly. "If there was no mercy +for the missus, little could I look for. But ye'll not take the life +of a Christian woman widout giving her so much as one minute to say +her prayers?" + +"Ay, pray away," answered Spike, his throat becoming dry and husky, +for, strange to say, the submissive quiet of the Irish woman, so +different from the struggle he had anticipated with _her_, rendered +him more reluctant to proceed than he had hitherto been in all of that +terrible day. As Biddy kneeled in the bottom of the stern-sheets, +Spike looked behind him, for the double purpose of escaping the +painful spectacle at his feet, and that of ascertaining how his +pursuers came on. The last still gained, though very slowly, and +doubts began to come over the captain's mind whether he could escape +such enemies at all. He was too deeply committed, however, to recede, +and it was most desirable to get rid of poor Biddy, if it were for no +other motive than to shut her mouth. Spike even fancied that some idea +of what had passed was entertained by those in the cutter. There was +evidently a stir in that boat, and two forms that he had no +difficulty, now, in recognizing as those of Wallace and Mulford, were +standing on the grating in the eyes of the cutter, or forward of the +foresail. The former appeared to have a musket in his hand, and the +other a glass. The last circumstance admonished him that all that was +now done would be done before dangerous witnesses. It was too late to +draw back, however, and the captain turned to look for the Irish +woman. + +Biddy arose from her knees, just as Spike withdrew his eyes from his +pursuers. The boatswain and another confident were in readiness to +cast the poor creature into the sea, the moment their leader gave the +signal. The intended victim saw and understood the arrangement, and +she spoke earnestly and piteously to her murderers. + +"It's not wanting will be violence," said Biddy, in a quiet tone, but +with a saddened countenance. "I know it's my turn, and I will save yer +sowls from a part of the burden of this great sin. God, and His Divine +Son, and the Blessed Mother of Jesus have mercy on me if it be wrong; +but I would far radder jump into the saa widout having the rude hands +of man on me, than have the dreadful sight of the missus done over +ag'in. It's a fearful thing is wather, and sometimes we have too +little of it, and sometimes more than we want--" + +"Bear a hand, bear a hand, good woman," interrupted the boatswain, +impatiently. "We must clear the boat of you, and the sooner it is done +the better it will be for all of us." + +"Don't grudge a poor morthal half a minute of life, at the last +moment," answered Biddy. "It's not long that I'll throuble ye, and so +no more need be said." + +The poor creature then got on the quarter of the boat, without any +one's touching her; there she placed herself with her legs outboard, +while she sat on the gunwale. She gave one moment to the thought of +arranging her clothes with womanly decency, and then she paused to +gaze with a fixed eye, and pallid cheek, on the foaming wake that +marked the rapid course of the boat. The troughs of the sea seemed +less terrible to her than their combing crests, and she waited for the +boat to descend into the next. + +"God forgive ye all, this deed, as I do!" said Biddy, earnestly, and +bending her person forward, she fell, as it might be "without hands," +into the gulf of eternity. Though all strained their eyes, none of the +men, Jack Tier excepted, ever saw more of Biddy Noon. Nor did Jack see +much. He got a frightful glimpse of an arm, however, on the summit of +a wave, but the motion of the boat was too swift, and the surface of +the ocean too troubled, to admit of aught else. + +A long pause succeeded this event. Biddy's quiet submission to her +fate had produced more impression on her murderers than the desperate, +but unavailing, struggles of those who had preceded her. Thus it is +ever with men. When opposed, the demon within blinds them to +consequences as well as to their duties; but, unresisted, the silent +influence of the image of God makes itself felt, and a better spirit +begins to prevail. There was not one in that boat who did not, for a +brief space, wish that poor Biddy had been spared. With most that +feeling, the last of human kindness they ever knew, lingered until the +occurrence of the dread catastrophe which, so shortly after, closed +the scene of this state of being on their eyes. + +"Jack Tier," called out Spike, some five minutes after Biddy was +drowned, but not until another observation had made it plainly +apparent to him that the man-of-war's men still continued to draw +nearer, being now not more than fair musket shot astern. + +"Ay, ay, sir," answered Jack, coming quietly out of his hole, from +forward of the mast, and moving aft as if indifferent to the danger, +by stepping lightly from thwart to thwart, until he reached the +stern-sheets. + +"It is your turn, little Jack," said Spike, as if in a sort of +sorrowful submission to a necessity that knew no law, "we cannot spare +you the room." + +"I have expected this, and am ready. Let me have my own way, and I +will cause you no trouble. Poor Biddy has taught me how to die. Before +I go, however, Stephen Spike, I must leave you this letter. It is +written by myself, and addressed to you. When I am gone, read it, and +think well of what it contains. And now, may a merciful God pardon the +sins of both, through love for his Divine Son. I forgive you, Stephen; +and should you live to escape from those who are now bent on hunting +you to the death, let this day cause you no grief on my account. Give +me but a moment of time, and I will cause you no trouble." + +Jack now stood upon the seat of the stern-sheets, balancing himself +with one foot on the stern of the boat. He waited until the yawl had +risen to the summit of a wave, when he looked eagerly for the +man-of-war's cutter. At that moment she was lost to view in the trough +of the sea. Instead of springing overboard, as all expected, he asked +another instant of delay. The yawl sunk into the trough itself, and +rose on the succeeding billow. Then he saw the cutter, and Wallace and +Mulford standing in its bows. He waved his hat to them, and sprang +high into the air, with the intent to make himself seen; when he came +down, the boat had shot her length away from the place, leaving him to +buffet with the waves. Jack now managed admirably, swimming lightly +and easily, but keeping his eyes on the crests of the waves, with a +view to meet the cutter. Spike now saw this well planned project to +avoid death, and regretted his own remissness in not making sure of +Jack. Everybody in the yawl was eagerly looking after the form of +Tier. + +"There he is on the comb of that sea, rolling over like a keg!" cried +the boatswain. + +"He's through it," answered Spike, "and swimming with great strength +and coolness." + +Several of the men started up involuntarily and simultaneously to +look, hitting their shoulders and bodies together. Distrust was at its +most painful height; and bull-dogs do not spring at the ox's muzzle +more fiercely than those six men throttled each other. Oaths, curses, +and appeals for help, succeeded; each man endeavoring, in his frenzied +efforts, to throw all the others overboard, as the only means of +saving himself. Plunge succeeded plunge; and when that combat of +demons ended, no one remained of them all but the boatswain. Spike had +taken no share in the struggle, looking on in grim satisfaction, as +the Father of Lies may be supposed to regard all human strife, hoping +good to himself, let the result be what it might to others. Of the +five men who thus went overboard, not one escaped. They drowned each +other by continuing their maddened conflict in an element unsuited to +their natures. + +Not so with Jack Tier. His leap had been seen, and a dozen eyes in the +cutter watched for his person, as that boat came foaming down before +the wind. A shout of "There he is!" from Mulford succeeded; and the +little fellow was caught by the hair, secured, and then hauled into +the boat by the second lieutenant of the Poughkeepsie and our young +mate. + +Others in the cutter had noted the incident of the hellish fight. The +fact was communicated to Wallace, and Mulford said, "That yawl will +outsail this loaded cutter, with only two men in it." + +"Then it is time to try what virtue there is in lead," answered +Wallace. "Marines, come forward, and give the rascal a volley." + +The volley was fired; one ball passed through the head of the +boatswain, killing him dead on the spot. Another went through the +body of Spike. The captain fell in the stern-sheets, and the boat +instantly broached to. + +The water that came on board apprised Spike fully of the state in +which he was now placed, and by a desperate effort, he clutched the +tiller, and got the yawl again before the wind. This could not last, +however. Little by little, his hold relaxed, until his hand +relinquished its grasp altogether, and the wounded man sunk into the +bottom of the stern-sheets, unable to raise even his head. Again the +boat broached-to. Every sea now sent its water aboard, and the yawl +would soon have filled, had not the cutter come glancing down past it, +and rounding-to under its lee, secured the prize. + +[_To be continued._ + + + + +THE LAND OF DREAMS. + +BY WILLIAM C. BRYANT. + + + A mighty realm is the Land of Dreams, + With steeps that hang in the twilight sky, + And weltering oceans and trailing streams + That gleam where the dusky valleys lie. + + But over its shadowy border flow + Sweet rays from the world of endless morn, + And the nearer mountains catch the glow, + And flowers in the nearer fields are born. + + The souls of the happy dead repair, + From their bowers of light, to that bordering land, + And walk in the fainter glory there, + With the souls of the living, hand in hand. + + One calm sweet smile in that shadowy sphere, + From eyes that open on earth no more-- + One warning word from a voice once dear-- + How they rise in the memory o'er and o'er! + + Far off from those hills that shine with day, + And fields that bloom in the heavenly gales, + The Land of Dreams goes stretching away + To dimmer mountains and darker vales. + + There lie the chambers of guilty delight, + There walk the spectres of guilty fear, + And soft low voices that float through the night + Are whispering sin in the helpless ear. + + Dear maids, in thy girlhood's opening flower, + Scarce weaned from the love of childish play! + The tears on whose cheeks are but the shower + That freshens the early blooms of May! + + Thine eyes are closed, and over thy brow + Pass thoughtful shadows and joyous gleams, + And I know, by the moving lips, that now + Thy spirit strays in the Land of Dreams. + + Light-hearted maiden, oh, heed thy feet! + Oh keep where that beam of Paradise falls; + And only wander where thou may'st meet + The blessed ones from its shining walls. + + So shalt thou come from the Land of Dreams, + With love and peace, to this world of strife; + And the light that over that border streams + Shall lie on the path of thy daily life. + + + + +SONNET--TO S. D. A. + +BY "THE SQUIRE." + + + When the young Morning, like a new-drest bride, + With pearls of dew fresh glistening in her hair, + Walks through the east in early summer-tide. + Her robe loose floating on the scented air, + The laughing hours assembled at her side + Or circling round her--then is she less fair + Than, in my heart, the picture, sweet and rare, + Thy presence left.--My books go unperused, + Old friends are shunned, and time flies by unused, + While I, grown idle, nothing do but dream; + Gazing upon that picture till I seem + _Thyself_, again, before my eyes to see, + And not the ideal show: so that to me + The semblance turns to sweet reality. + + +[Illustration +_Engraved by T. S. WELCH. FOR GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE_ +_FROM AN ORIGINAL DAGUERREOTYPE_] + +_Entered according to act of Congress in the Year 1847 by G.R. Graham +in the Clerks Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of +P^a._ + + + + +BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH + +OF GENERAL WILLIAM O. BUTLER. + +BY FRANCIS P. BLAIR. + + +In memoirs of individuals of distinction it is usual to look back to +their ancestry. The feeling is universal which prompts us to learn +something of even an ordinary acquaintance in whom interest is felt. +It will indulge, therefore, only a necessary and proper curiosity to +introduce the subject of this notice by a short account of a family +whose striking traits survive in him so remarkably. General Butler's +grandfather, Thomas Butler, was born 6th April, 1720, in Kilkenny, +Ireland. He married there in 1742. Three of his five sons who attained +manhood, Richard, William and Thomas, were born abroad. Pierce, the +father of General William O. Butler, and Edward, the youngest son, +were born in Pennsylvania. It is remarkable that all these men, and +all their immediate male descendants, with a single exception, (who +was a judge,) were engaged in the military service of this country. + +The eldest, Richard, was Lieut. Col. of Morgan's celebrated +rifle-regiment, and to him it owed much of the high character that +gave it a fame of its own, apart from the other corps of the +Revolution. The cool, disciplined valor which gave steady and deadly +direction to the rifles of this regiment, was derived principally from +this officer, who devoted himself to the drill of his men. He was +promoted to the full command of his regiment sometime during the war, +(when Morgan's great merit and services had raised him to the rank of +general,) and in that capacity had commanded Wayne's left in the +attack on Stony Point. About the year 1790, he was appointed +major-general. On the 4th of November, 1791, he was killed in St. +Clair's bloody battle with the Indians. His combat with the Indians, +after he was shot, gave such a peculiar interest to his fate that a +representation of himself and the group surrounding him was exhibited +throughout the Union in wax figures. Notices of this accomplished +soldier will be found in Marshall's Life of Washington, pages 290, +311, 420. In Gen. St. Clair's report, in the American Museum, volume +xi. page 44, Appendix. + +William Butler, the second son, was an officer throughout the +revolutionary war; rose to the rank of colonel, and was in many of the +severest battles. He was the favorite of the family, and was boasted +of by this race of heroes as the coolest and boldest man in battle +they had ever known. When the army was greatly reduced in rank and +file, and there were many superfluous officers, they organized +themselves into a separate corps, and elected him to the command. +General Washington declined receiving this novel corps of +commissioned soldiers, but in a proud testimonial did honor to their +devoted patriotism. + +Of Thomas Butler, the third son, we glean the following facts from the +American Biographical Dictionary. In the year 1776, whilst he was a +student of law in the office of the eminent Judge Wilson of +Philadelphia, he left his pursuit and joined the army as a subaltern. +He soon obtained the command of a company, in which he continued to +the close of the revolutionary war. He was in almost every action +fought in the Middle States during the war. At the battle of +Brandywine he received the thanks of Washington on the field of +battle, through his aid-de-camp Gen. Hamilton, for his intrepid +conduct in rallying a detachment of retreating troops, and giving the +enemy a severe fire. At the battle of Monmouth he received the thanks +of Gen. Wayne for defending a defile, in the face of a severe fire +from the enemy, while Col. Richard Butler's regiment made good its +retreat. At the close of the war he retired into private life, as a +farmer, and continued in the enjoyment of rural and domestic happiness +until the year 1791, when he again took the field to meet the savage +foe that menaced our western frontier. He commanded a battalion in the +disastrous battle of Nov. 4, 1791, in which his brother fell. Orders +were given by Gen. St. Clair to charge with the bayonet, and Major +Butler, though his leg had been broken by a ball, yet on horseback, +led his battalion to the charge. It was with difficulty his surviving +brother, Capt. Edward Butler, removed him from the field. In 1792 he +was continued in the establishment as major, and in 1794 he was +promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel commandant of the 4th +sub-legion. He commanded in this year Fort Fayette, at Pittsburg, and +prevented the deluded insurgents from taking it, more by his name than +by his forces, for he had but few troops. The close of his life was +embittered with trouble. In 1803 he was arrested by the commanding +general--Wilkinson--at Fort Adams, on the Mississippi, and sent to +Maryland, where he was tried by a court-martial, and acquitted of all +the charges, save that of _wearing his hair_. He was then ordered to +New Orleans, where he arrived, to take command of the troops, October +20th. He was again arrested next month; but the court did not sit +until July of the next year, and their decision is not known. Col. +Butler died Sept. 7, 1805. Out of the arrest and persecution of this +sturdy veteran, Washington Irving (Knickerbocker) has worked up a fine +piece of burlesque, in which Gen. Wilkinson's character is inimitably +delineated in that of the vain and pompous Gen. Von Poffenburg. + +Percival Butler, the fourth son, father of General Wm. O. Butler, was +born at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in 1760. He entered the army as a +lieutenant at the age of eighteen; was with Washington at Valley +Forge; was in the battle of Monmouth, and at the taking of +Yorktown--being through the whole series of struggles in the Middle +States, with the troops under the commander-in-chief, except for a +short period when he was attached to a light corps commanded by La +Fayette, who presented him a sword. Near the close of the war he went +to the South with the Pennsylvania brigade, where peace found him. He +emigrated to Kentucky in 1784. He was the last of the old stock left +when the war of 1812 commenced. He was made adjutant-general when +Kentucky became a State, and in that capacity joined one of the armies +sent out by Kentucky during the war. + +Edward Butler, the youngest of the five brothers, was too young to +enter the army in the first stages of the Revolution, but joined it +near the close, and had risen to a captaincy when Gen. St. Clair took +the command, and led it to that disastrous defeat in which so many of +the best soldiers of the country perished. He there evinced the +highest courage and strongest fraternal affection, in carrying his +wounded brother out of the massacre, which was continued for miles +along the route of the retreating army, and from which so few escaped, +even of those who fled unencumbered. He subsequently became +adjutant-general in Wayne's army. + +Of these five brothers four had sons--all of whom, with one exception, +were engaged in the military or naval service of the country during +the last war. + +1st. General Richard Butler's son, William, died a lieutenant in the +navy, early in the last war. His son, Captain James Butler, was at the +head of the Pittsburg Blues, which company he commanded in the +campaigns of the Northwest, and was particularly distinguished in the +battle of Massissinnawa. + +2d. Colonel William Butler, also of the revolutionary army, had two +sons, one died in the navy, the other a subaltern in Wayne's army. He +was in the battle with the Indians in 1794. + +3d. Lieut. Col. Thomas Butler, of the old stock, had three sons, the +eldest a judge. The second, Col. Robert Butler, was at the head of +Gen. Jackson's staff throughout the last war. The third, William E. +Butler, also served in the army of Gen. Jackson. + +4th. Percival Butler, captain in the revolutionary war, and +adjutant-general of Kentucky during the last war, had four sons: +first, Thomas, who was a captain, and aid to Gen. Jackson at New +Orleans. Next, Gen. William O. Butler, the subject of this notice. +Third, Richard, who was assistant adjutant-general in the campaigns of +the war of 1812. Percival Butler, the youngest son, now a +distinguished lawyer, was not of an age to bear arms in the last war. +Of this second generation of the Butler's, there are nine certainly, +and probably more, engaged in the present war. + +This glance at the family shows the character of the race. An +anecdote, derived from a letter of an old Pennsylvania friend to the +parents, who transplanted it from Ireland, shows that its military +instinct was an inheritance. "While the five sons," says the letter, +"were absent from home in the service of the country, the old father +took it in his head to go also. The neighbors collected to remonstrate +against it; but his wife said, 'Let him go! I can get along without +him, and raise something to feed the army in the bargain; and the +country wants every man who can shoulder a musket.'" It was doubtless +this extraordinary zeal of the Butler family which induced Gen. +Washington to give the toast--"The Butlers, and their five sons," at +his own table, whilst surrounded by a large party of officers. This +anecdote rests on the authority of the late Gen. Findlay, of +Cincinnati. A similar tribute of respect was paid to this devoted +house of soldiers by Gen. La Fayette, in a letter now extant, and in +the possession of a lady connected with them by marriage. La Fayette +says, "_When I wanted a thing well done, I ordered a Butler to do +it._" + +From this retrospect it will be seen that in all the wars of the +country, in the revolutionary war, in the Indian war, in the last +British war, and the present Mexican war, the blood of almost every +Butler able to bear arms has been freely shed in the public cause. +Maj. Gen. William O. Butler is now among the highest in the military +service of his country; and he has attained this grade from the +ranks--the position of a private being the only one he ever sought. At +the opening of the war of 1812, he had just graduated in the +Transylvania University, and was looking to the law as a profession. +The surrender of Detroit, and the army by Hull, aroused the patriotism +and the valor of Kentucky--and young Butler, yet in his minority, was +among the first to volunteer. He gave up his books, and the enjoyments +of the gay and polished society of Lexington, where he lived among a +circle of fond and partial relations--the hope to gratify their +ambition in shining at the bar, or in the political forum of the +state--to join Capt. Hart's company of infantry as a private soldier. + +Before the march to join the northwestern army, he was elected a +corporal. In this grade he marched to the relief of Fort Wayne, which +was invested by hostile Indians. These were driven before the Kentucky +volunteers to their towns on the Wabash, which were destroyed, and the +troops then returned to the Miami of the lakes, where they made a +winter encampment. Here an ensign's commission in the second regiment +of United States infantry was tendered to the volunteer corporal, +which he declined, unless permitted to remain with the northwestern +army, which he had entered to share in the effort of the Kentucky +militia to wipe out the disgrace of Hull's surrender by the recapture +of Detroit. His proposition was assented to, and he received an +ensign's appointment in the seventeenth infantry, then a part of the +northwestern army, under the command of Gen. Winchester. After +enduring every privation in a winter encampment, in the wildernesses +and frozen marshes of the lake country, awaiting in vain the expected +support of additional forces, the Kentucky volunteers, led by Lewis, +Allen, and Madison, with Well's regiment, (17th U. S.) advanced to +encounter the force of British and Indians which defended Detroit. On +leaving Kentucky the volunteers had pledged themselves to drive the +British invaders from our soil. These men and their leaders were held +in such estimation at home, that the expectation formed of them +exceeded their promises; and these volunteers, though disappointed in +every succor which they had reason to anticipate--wanting in +provision, clothes, cannon, in every thing--resolved, rather than lose +reputation, to press on to the enterprise, and to endeavor to draw on +to them, by entering into action, the troops behind. It is not proper +here to enter into explanations of the causes of the disaster at the +River Raisin, the consequence of this movement, nor to give the +particulars of the battle. The incidents which signalized the +character of the subject of this memoir alone are proper here. + +There were two battles at the River Raisin, one on the 18th, the other +on the 22d of January. In the first, the whole body of Indian +warriors, drawn together from all the lake tribes, for the defence of +Upper Canada against the approaching Kentuckians, were encountered. In +moving to the attack of this formidable force of the fiercest, and +bravest, and most expert warriors on the continent, a strong party of +them were descried from the line with which Ensign Butler advanced, +running forward to reach a fence, and hold it as a cover from which to +ply their rifles. Butler instantly proposed, and was permitted, to +anticipate them. Calling upon some of the most alert and active men of +the company, he ran directly to meet the Indians at the fence. He and +his comrades out-stripped the enemy, and getting possession of the +fence, kept the advantage of the position for their advancing friends. +This incident, of however little importance as to results, is worth +remembrance in giving the traits of a young soldier's character. It is +said that the hardiest veteran, at the opening of the fire in battle, +feels, for the moment, somewhat appalled. And Gen. Wolfe, one of the +bravest of men, declared that the "horrid yell of the Indian strikes +the boldest heart with affright." The strippling student, who, for the +first time, beheld a field of battle on the snows of the River Raisin, +presenting in bold relief long files of those terrible enemies, whose +massacres had filled his native State with tales of horror, must have +felt some stirring sensations. But the crack of the Indian rifle, and +his savage yell, awoke in him the chivalric instincts of his nature; +and the promptitude with which he communicated his enthusiasm to a few +comrades around, and rushed forward to meet danger in its most +appalling form, risking himself to save others, and secure a triumph +which he could scarcely hope to share, gave earnest of the military +talent, the self-sacrificing courage, and the soldierly sympathies +which have drawn to him the nation's esteem. The close of the battle +of the 18th gave another instance in which these latter traits of Gen. +Butler's character were still more strikingly illustrated. The +Indians, driven from the defences around the town on the River Raisin, +retired fighting into the thick woods beyond it. The contest of +sharp-shooting from tree to tree was here continued--the Kentuckians +pressing forward, and the Indians retreating, until night closed in, +when the Kentuckians were recalled to the encampment in the village. +The Indians advanced as their opposers withdrew, and kept up the fire +until the Kentuckians emerged from the woods into the open ground. +Just as the column to which Ensign Butler belonged reached the verge +of the dark forest, the voice of a wounded man, who had been left some +distance behind, was heard calling out most piteously for help. Butler +induced three of his company to go back in the woods with him to bring +him off. He was found, and they fought their way back--one of the men, +Jeremiah Walker, receiving a shot, of which he subsequently died. + +In the second sanguinary battle of the River Raisin, on the 22d of +January, with the British and Indians, another act of self-devotion +was performed by Butler. After the rout and massacre of the right +wing, belonging to Wells' command, the whole force of the British and +Indians was concentrated against the small body of troops under Major +Madison, that maintained their ground within the picketed gardens. A +double barn, commanding the plot of ground on which the Kentuckians +stood, was approached on one side by the Indians, under the cover of +an orchard and fence; the British, on the other side, being so posted +as to command the space between it and the pickets. A party in the +rear of the barn were discovered advancing to take possession of it. +All saw the fatal consequences of the secure lodgment of the enemy at +a place which would present every man within the pickets at close +rifle-shot to the aim of their marksmen. Major Madison inquired if +there was no one who would volunteer to run the gauntlet of the fire +of the British and Indian lines, and put a torch to the combustibles +within the barn, to save the remnant of the little army from +sacrifice. Butler, without a moment's delay, took some blazing slicks +from a fire at hand, leaped the pickets, and running at his utmost +speed, thrust the fire into the straw within the barn. One who was an +anxious spectator of the event we narrate, says, "that although volley +upon volley was fired at him, Butler, after making some steps on his +way back, turned to see if the fire had taken, and not being +satisfied, returned to the barn and set it in a blaze. As the +conflagration grew, the enemy was seen retreating from the rear of the +building, which they had entered at one end, as the flame ascended in +the other. Soon after reaching the pickets in safety, amid the shouts +of his friends, he was struck by a ball in his breast. Believing from +the pain he felt that it had penetrated his chest, turning to Adjutant +(now Gen.) McCalla, one of his Lexington comrades, and pressing his +hand to the spot, he said, "I fear this shot is mortal, but while I am +able to move, I will do my duty." To the anxious inquiries of this +friend, who met him soon afterward, he opened his vest, with a smile, +and showed him that the ball had spent itself on the thick wadding of +his coat and on his breast bone. He suffered, however, for many +weeks. + +The little band within the pickets, which Winchester had surrendered, +after being carried himself a prisoner into Proctor's camp, denied his +powers. They continued to hold the enemy at bay until they were +enabled to capitulate on honorable terms, which, nevertheless, Proctor +shamefully violated, by leaving the sick and wounded who were unable +to walk to the tomahawk of his allies. Butler, who was among the few +of the wounded who escaped the massacre, was marched through Canada to +Fort Niagara--suffering under his wound, and every privation--oppressed +with grief, hunger, fatigue, and the inclement cold of that desolate +region. Even here he forgot himself, and his mind wandered back to the +last night scene which he surveyed on the bloody shores of the River +Raisin. He gave up the heroic part and became the schoolboy again, and +commemorated his sorrows for his lost friends in verse, like some +passionate, heart-broken lover. These elegiac strains were never +intended for any but the eye of mutual friends, whose sympathies, like +his own, poured out tears with their plaints over the dead. We give +some of these lines of his boyhood, to show that the heroic youth had +a bosom not less kind than brave. + +THE FIELD OF RAISIN. + + The battle's o'er! the din is past, + Night's mantle on the field is cast; + The Indian yell is heard no more, + An silence broods o'er Erie's shore. + At this lone hour I go to tread + The field where valor vainly bled-- + To raise the wounded warrior's crest, + Or warm with tears his icy breast; + To treasure up his last command, + And bear it to his native land. + It may one pulse of joy impart + To a fond mother's bleeding heart; + Or for a moment it may dry + The tear-drop in the widow's eye. + Vain hope, away! The widow ne'er + Her warrior's dying wish shall hear. + The passing zephyr bears no sigh, + No wounded warrior meets the eye-- + Death is his sleep by Erie's wave, + Of Raisin's snow we heap his grave! + How many hopes lie murdered here-- + The mother's joy, the father's pride, + The country's boast, the foeman's fear, + In wilder'd havoc, side by side. + Lend me, thou silent queen of night, + Lend me awhile thy waning light, + That I may see each well-loved form, + That sunk beneath the morning storm. + +These lines are introductory to what may be considered a succession of +epitaphs on the personal friends whose bodies he found upon the field. +It would extend the extract too far to insert them. We can only add +the close of the poem, where he takes leave of a group of his young +comrades in Hart's company, who had fallen together. + + And here I see that youthful band, + That loved to move at Hart's command; + I saw them for the battle dressed, + And still where danger thickest pressed, + I marked their crimson plumage wave. + How many filled this bloody grave! + Their pillow and their winding-sheet + The virgin snow--a shroud most meet! + But wherefore do I linger here? + Why drop the unavailing tear? + Where'er I turn, some youthful form, + Like floweret broken by the storm, + Appeals to me in sad array, + And bids me yet a moment stay. + Till I could fondly lay me down + And sleep with him on the cold, cold ground. + For thee, thou dread and solemn plain, + I ne'er shall look on thee again; + And Spring, with her effacing showers, + Shall come, and Summer's mantling flowers; + And each succeeding Winter throw + On thy red breast new robes of snow; + Yet I will wear thee in my heart, + All dark and gory as thou art. + +Shortly after his return from Canada. Ensign Butler was promoted to a +captaincy in the regiment to which he belonged. But as this promotion +was irregular, being made over the heads of senior officers in that +regiment, a captaincy was given him in the 44th, a new raised +regiment. When free from parole, by exchange, in 1814, he instantly +entered on active duty, with a company which he had recruited at +Nashville, Tennessee. His regiment was ordered to join General Jackson +in the South, but Captain Butler finding its movements too tardy, +pushed on, and effected that junction with his company alone. Gen. +Call, at that time an officer in Capt. Butler's company, (since Gov. +of Florida,) in a letter addressed to Mr. Tanner of Kentucky, +presents, as an eye-witness, so graphically, the share which Capt. +Butler had in the campaign which followed, that it may well supersede +any narrative at second hand. + + "_Tallehasse, April_ 3, 1844. + + "SIR,--I avail myself of the earliest leisure I + have had since the receipt of your letter of the + 18th of February, to give you a reply. + + "A difference of political sentiments will not + induce me to withhold the narrative you have + requested, of the military services of Col. Wm. O. + Butler, during the late war with Great Britain, + while attached to the army of the South. My + intimate association with him, in camp, on the + march, and in the field, has perhaps made me as + well acquainted with his merits, as a gentleman and + a soldier, as any other man living. And although we + are now standing in opposite ranks, I cannot forget + the days and nights we have stood side by side, + facing the common enemy of our country, sharing the + same fatigues, dangers, and privations, and + participating in the same pleasures and enjoyments. + The feelings and sympathies springing from such + associations in the days of our youth can never be + removed or impaired by a difference of opinion with + regard to men or measures, when each may well + believe the other equally sincere as himself, and + where the most ardent desire of both is to sustain + the honor, the happiness and prosperity of our + country. + + "Soon after my appointment in the army of the + United States, as a lieutenant, in the fall of + 1814, I was ordered to join the company of Capt. + Butler, of the 44th regiment of infantry, then at + Nashville, Tennessee. When I arrived, and reported + myself, I found the company under orders to join + our regiment in the South. The march, mostly + through an unsettled wilderness, was conducted by + Capt. Butler with his usual promptitude and energy, + and by forced and rapid movements we arrived at + Fort Montgomery, the headquarters of Gen. Jackson, + a short distance above the Florida line, just in + time to follow our beloved general in his bold + enterprise to drive the enemy from his strong + position in a neutral territory. The van-guard of + the army destined for the invasion of Louisiana had + made Pensacola its headquarters, and the British + navy in the Gulf of Mexico had rendezvoused in that + beautiful bay. + + "The penetrating sagacity of Gen. Jackson + discovered the advantage of the position assumed by + the British forces, and with a decision and energy + which never faltered, he resolved to find his + enemy, even under the flag of a neutral power. This + was done by a prompt and rapid march, surprising + and cutting off all the advanced pickets, until we + arrived within gun-shot of the fort at Pensacola. + The army of Gen. Jackson was then so inconsiderable + as to render a reinforcement of a single company, + commanded by such an officer as Capt. Butler, an + important acquisition. And although there were + several companies of regular troops ordered to + march from Tennessee at the same time, Capt. + Butler's, by his extraordinary energy and + promptitude, was the only one which arrived in time + to join this expedition. His company formed a part + of the centre column of attack at Pensacola. The + street we entered was defended by a battery in + front, which fired on us incessantly, while several + strong block-houses, on our flanks, discharged upon + us small arms and artillery. But a gallant and + rapid charge soon carried the guns in front, and + the town immediately surrendered. + + "In this fight Capt. Butler led on his company with + his usual intrepidity. He had one officer, Lieut. + Flournoy, severely wounded, and several + non-commissioned officers and privates killed and + wounded. + + "From Pensacola, after the object of the expedition + was completed, by another prompt and rapid + movement, we arrived at New Orleans a few weeks + before the appearance of the enemy. + + "On the 23d of December the signal-gun announced + the approach of the enemy. The previous night they + had surprised and captured one of our pickets; had + ascended a bayou, disembarked, and had taken + possession of the left bank of the Mississippi, + within six miles of New Orleans. The energy of + every officer was put in requisition, to + concentrate our forces in time to meet the enemy. + Capt. Butler was one of the first to arrive at the + general's quarters, and ask instructions; they were + received and promptly executed. Our regiment, + stationed on the opposite side, was transported + across the river. All the available forces of our + army, not much exceeding fifteen hundred men, were + concentrated in the city; and while the sun went + down the line of battle was formed; and every + officer took the station assigned him in the fight. + The infantry formed on the open square, in front of + the Cathedral, waiting in anxious expectation for + the order to move. During this momentary pause, + while the enemy was expected to enter the city, a + scene of deep and thrilling interest was presented. + Every gallery, porch and window around the square + were filled with the fair forms of beauty, in + silent anxiety and alarm, waving their + handkerchiefs to the gallant and devoted band which + stood before them, prepared to die, or defend them + from the rude intrusion of a foreign soldiery. It + was a scene calculated to awaken emotions never to + be forgotten. It appealed to the chivalry and + patriotism of every officer and soldier--it + inspired every heart, and nerved every arm for + battle. From this impressive scene the army marched + to meet the enemy, and about eight o'clock at night + they were surprised in their encampment, + immediately on the banks of the Mississippi. + Undiscovered, our line was formed in silence within + a short distance of the enemy; a rapid charge was + made into their camp, and a desperate conflict + ensued. After a determined resistance the enemy + gave way, but disputing every inch of ground we + gained. In advancing over ditches and fences in the + night, rendered still more dark by the smoke of the + battle, much confusion necessarily ensued, and many + officers became separated from their commands. It + more than once occurred during the fight that some + of our officers, through mistake, entered the + enemy's lines; and the British officers in like + manner entered ours. The meritorious officer in + command of our regiment, at the commencement of the + battle, lost his position in the darkness and + confusion, and was unable to regain it until the + action was over. In this manner, for a short time, + the regiment was without a commander, and its + movements were regulated by the platoon officers, + which increased the confusion and irregularity of + the advance. In this critical situation, and in the + heat of the battle, Capt. Butler, as the senior + officer present, assumed command of the regiment, + and led it on most gallantly to repeated and + successful charges, until the fight ended in the + complete rout of the enemy. We were still pressing + on their rear, when an officer of the general's + staff rode up and ordered the pursuit discontinued. + Captain Butler urged its continuance, and expressed + the confident belief of his ability to take many + prisoners, if permitted to advance. But the order + was promptly repeated, under the well-founded + apprehension that our troops might come in + collision with each other, an event which had + unhappily occurred at a previous hour of the fight. + No corps on that field was more bravely led to + battle than the regiment commanded by Capt. Butler, + and no officer of any rank, save the + commander-in-chief, was entitled to higher credit + for the achievement of that glorious night. + + "A short time before the battle of the 8th of + January, Capt. Butler was detailed to command the + guard in front of the encampment. A house standing + near the bridge, in advance of his position, had + been taken possession of by the light troops of the + enemy, from whence they annoyed our guard. Capt. + Butler determined to dislodge them and burn the + house. He accordingly marched to the attack at the + head of his command, but the enemy retired before + him. Seeing them retreat, he halted his guard, and + advanced himself, accompanied by two or three men + only, for the purpose of burning the house. It was + an old frame building, weather-boarded, without + ceiling or plaster in the inside, with a single + door opening to the British camp. On entering the + house he found a soldier of the enemy concealed in + one corner, whom he captured, and sent to the rear + with his men, remaining alone in the house. While + he was in the act of kindling a fire, a detachment + of the enemy, unperceived, occupied the only door. + The first impulse was to force, with his single + arm, a passage through them, but he was instantly + seized in a violent manner by two or three stout + fellows, who pushed him back against the wall with + such force as to burst off the weather-boarding + from the wall, and he fell through the opening thus + made. In an instant he recovered himself, and under + a heavy fire from the enemy, he retreated until + supported by the guard, which he immediately led on + to the attack, drove the British light troops from + their strong position, and burnt the house in the + presence of the two armies. + + "I witnessed on that field many deeds of daring + courage, but none of which more excited my + admiration than this. + + "Capt. Butler was soon after in the battle of the + 8th of January, where he sustained his previously + high and well earned reputation for bravery and + usefulness. But that battle, which, from its + important results, has eclipsed those which + preceded it, was but a slaughter of the enemy, with + trivial loss on our part, and presenting few + instances of individual distinction. + + "Capt. Butler received the brevet rank of major for + his gallant services during that eventful campaign, + and the reward of merit was never more worthily + bestowed. Soon after the close of the war, he was + appointed aid-de-camp to Gen. Jackson, in which + station he remained until he retired from the army. + Since that period I have seldom had the pleasure of + meeting with my valued friend and companion in + arms, and I know but little of his career in civil + life. But in camp, his elevated principles, his + intelligence and generous feelings, won for him the + respect and confidence of all who knew him; and + where he is best known, I will venture to say, he + is still most highly appreciated for every + attribute which constitutes the gentleman and the + soldier. + "I am, sir, very respectfully, + "R. K. CALL." +"MR. WILLIAM TANNER." + +General Jackson's sense of the services of Butler, in this memorable +campaign, was strongly expressed in the following letter to a member +of the Kentucky Legislature: + + "_Hermitage, Feb._ 20, 1844. + + "MY DEAR SIR,--You ask me to give you my opinion of + the military services of the then Captain, now + Colonel, Wm. O. Butler, of Kentucky, during the + investment of New Orleans by the British forces in + 1814 and 1815. I wish I had sufficient strength to + speak fully of the merit of the services of Col. + Butler on that occasion; this strength I have not: + Suffice it to say, that on all occasions he + displayed that heroic chivalry, and calmness of + judgment in the midst of danger, which distinguish + the valuable officer in the hour of battle. In a + conspicuous manner were those noble qualities + displayed by him on the night of the 23d December, + 1814, and on the 8th of January, 1815, as well as + at all times during the presence of the British + army at New Orleans. In short, he was to be found + at all points where duty called. I hazard nothing + in saying that should our country again be engaged + in war during the active age of Col. Butler, he + would be one of the very best selections that could + be made to command our army, and lead the Eagles of + our country on to victory and renown. He has + sufficient energy to assume all responsibility + necessary to success, and for his country's good. + + "ANDREW JACKSON." + +Gen. Jackson gave earlier proof of the high estimation in which he +held the young soldier who had identified himself with his own glory +at New Orleans. He made him his aid-de-camp in 1816--which station he +retained on the peace establishment, with the rank of colonel. But, +like his illustrious patron, he soon felt that military station and +distinction had no charms for him when unattended with the dangers, +duties, and patriotic achievements of war. He resigned, therefore, +even the association with his veteran chief, of which he was so proud, +and retired in 1817 to private life. He resumed his study of the +profession that was interrupted by the war, married, and settled down +on his patrimonial possession at the confluence of the Kentucky and +Ohio rivers, in the noiseless but arduous vocations of civil life. The +abode which he had chosen made it peculiarly so with him. The region +around him was wild and romantic, sparsely settled, and by pastoral +people. There are no populous towns. The high, rolling, and yet rich +lands--the precipitous cliffs of the Kentucky, of Eagle, Tavern and +other tributaries which pour into it near the mouth--make this section +of the State still, to some extent a wilderness of thickets--and the +tangled pea-vine, the grape-vine and nut-bearing trees, which rendered +all Kentucky, until the intrusion of the whites, one great Indian +park. The whole luxuriant domain was preserved by the Indians as a +pasture for buffalo, deer, elk, and other animals--their enjoyment +alike as a chase and a subsistence--by excluding every tribe from +fixing a habitation in it. Its name consecrated it as the dark and +bloody ground; and war pursued every foot that trod it. In the midst +of this region, in April, 1791, Wm. O. Butler was born, in Jessamine +county, on the Kentucky River. His father had married, in Lexington, +soon after his arrival in Kentucky, 1782, Miss Howkins, a +sister-in-law of Col. Todd, who commanded and perished in the battle +of the Blue-Licks. Following the instincts of his family, which seemed +ever to court danger, Gen. Pierce Butler, as neighborhood encroached +around him, removed, not long after the birth of his son William, to +the mouth of the Kentucky River. Through this section the Indian +warpath into the heart of Kentucky passed. Until the peace of 1794, +there was scarcely a day that some hostile Savage did not prowl +through the tangled forests, and the labyrinths of hills, streams and +cliffs, which adapted this region to their lurking warfare. From it +they emerged when they made their last formidable incursion, and +pushed their foray to the environs of Frankfort, the capital of the +State. General Pierce Butler had on one side of him the Ohio, on the +farther shore of which the savage hordes still held the mastery, and +on the other the romantic region through which they hunted and pressed +their war enterprises. And here, amid the scenes of border warfare, +his son William had that spirit, which has animated him through life, +educated by the legends of the Indian-fighting hunters of Kentucky. + +To the feelings and taste inspired by the peculiarities of the place +and circumstances adverted to, must be attributed the return of Col. +Butler to his father's home, to enter on his profession as a lawyer. +There were no great causes or rich clients to attract him--no dense +population to lift him to the political honors of the State. The +eloquence and learning, the industry and integrity which he gave to +adjust the controversies of Gallatin and the surrounding counties, +would have crowned him with wealth and professional distinction, if +exhibited at Louisville or Lexington. But he coveted neither. +Independence, the affections of his early associates, the love of a +family circle, and the charm which the recollection of a happy boyhood +gave to the scenes in which he was reared, were all he sought. And he +found them all in the romantic dells and woodland heights of Kentucky, +and on the sides of the far spreading, gently flowing, beautiful Ohio. +The feeling which his sincere and sensitive nature had imbibed here +was as strong as that of the Switzer for his bright lakes, lofty +mountains, and deep valleys. The wild airs of the boat horn, which +have resounded for so many years from arks descending the Ohio and +Kentucky, floating along the current and recurring in echoes from the +hollows of the hills, like its eddies, became as dear to him as the +famous Rans de Vache to the native of Switzerland. We insert, as +characteristic alike of the poetical talent and temperament of Butler, +some verses which the sound of this rude instrument evoked when he +returned home, resigning with rapture "the ear piercing fife and +spirit stirring drum" for the wooden horn, which can only compass in +its simple melody such airs as that to which Burns has set his +beautiful words-- + + When wild war's deadly blast was blawn, + And gentle peace returning, + Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless, + And many a widow mourning; + I left the lines and tented field. + +The music of this song made the burden of the "Boatman's Horn," and +always announced the approaching ark to the river villages. + +The sentiments of the poet, as well as the sweet and deep tones which +wafted the plaintive air over the wide expanse of the Ohio, may have +contributed to awaken the feeling which pervade these lines. + +THE BOAT HORN. + + O, boatman! wind that horn again, + For never did the list'ning air + Upon its lambent bosom bear + So wild, so soft, so sweet a strain-- + What though thy notes are sad, and few, + By every simple boatman blown, + Yet is each pulse to nature true, + And melody in every tone. + How oft in boyhood's joyous day, + Unmindful of the lapsing hours, + I've loitered on my homeward way + By wild Ohio's brink of flowers, + While some lone boatman, from the deck, + Poured his soft numbers to that tide, + As if to charm from storm and wreck + The boat where all his fortunes ride! + Delighted Nature drank the sound, + Enchanted--Echo bore it round + In whispers soft, and softer still, + From hill to plain, and plain to hill, + Till e'en the thoughtless, frolick boy, + Elate with hope, and wild with joy, + Who gamboled by the river's side, + And sported with the fretting tide, + Feels something new pervade his breast, + Chain his light step, repress his jest, + Bends o'er the flood his eager ear + To catch the sounds far off yet dear-- + Drinks the sweet draught, but knows not why + The tear of rapture fills his eye + And can he now, to manhood grown, + Tell why those notes, simple and lone, + As on the ravished ear they fall, + Bind every sense in magic spell? + There is a tide of feeling given + To all on earth, its fountain Heaven. + Beginning with the dewy flower, + Just oped in Flora's vernal bower-- + Rising creation's orders through + With louder murmur, brighter hue-- + That _tide_ is sympathy! its ebb and flow + Give life its hues of joy and wo. + Music, the master-spirit that can move + Its waves to war, or lull them into love-- + Can cheer the sinking sailor mid the wave, + And bid the soldier on! nor fear the grave-- + Inspire the fainting pilgrim on his road, + And elevate his soul to claim his God. + Then, boatman! wind that horn again! + Though much of sorrow mark its strain, + Yet are its notes to sorrow dear; + What though they wake fond memory's tear! + Tears are sad memory's sacred feast, + And rapture oft her chosen guest. + +This retirement, which may almost be considered seclusion, was enjoyed +by Col. Butler nearly twenty-five years, when he was called out by the +Democratic party to redeem by his personal popularity the +congressional district in which he lived. It was supposed that no one +else could save it from the Whigs. Like all the rest of his family, +none of whom had made their military service a passport to the honors +and emoluments of civil stations, he was averse to relinquish the +attitude he occupied to enter on a party struggle. The importunity of +friends prevailed; and he was elected to two successive terms in +Congress, absolutely refusing to be a candidate a third time. He spoke +seldom in Congress, but in two or three fine speeches which appear in +the debates, a power will readily be detected which could not have +failed to conduct to the highest distinction in that body. Taste, +judgment, and eloquence, characterized all his efforts in Congress. A +fine manner, an agreeable voice, and the high consideration accorded +to him by the members of all parties, gave him, what it is the good +fortune of few to obtain, an attentive and gratified audience. + +In 1844 the same experiment was made with Butler's popularity to carry +the state for the Democracy, as had succeeded in his congressional +district. He was nominated as the Democratic candidate for governor by +the 8th of January Convention; and there is good ground to believe +that he would have been chosen over his estimable Whig competitor, +Governor Owsley, but for the universal conviction throughout the state +that the defeat of Mr. Clay's party, by the choice of a Democratic +governor in August, would have operated to injure Mr. Clay's prospects +throughout the Union, in the presidential election which followed +immediately after in November. With Mr. Clay's popularity, and the +activity of all his friends--with the state pride so long exalted by +the aspiration of giving a President to the Union--more eagerly than +ever enlisted against the Democracy, Col. Butler diminished the Whig +majority from twenty thousand to less than five thousand. + +The late military events with which Maj. Gen. Butler has been +connected--in consequence of his elevation to that grade in 1846, with +the view to the command of the volunteers raised to support Gen. +Taylor in his invasion of Mexico--are so well known to the country +that minute recital is not necessary. He acted a very conspicuous part +in the severe conflict at Monterey, and had, as second in command +under Gen. Taylor, his full share in the arduous duties and +responsibilities incurred in that important movement. The narrative of +Major Thomas, senior assistant adjutant-general of the army in Mexico, +and hence assigned by Gen. Taylor to the staff of Gen. Butler, reports +so plainly and modestly the part which Gen. Butler performed in +subjecting the city, that it may well stand for history. This passage +is taken from it. + + "The army arrived at their camp in the vicinity of + Monterey about noon September 19th. That afternoon + the general endeavored by personal observation to + get information of the enemy's position. He, like + Gen. Taylor, saw the importance of gaining the road + to Saltillo, and fully favored the movement of Gen. + Worth's division to turn their left, &c. Worth + marched Sunday, September 20th, for this purpose, + thus leaving Twiggs' and Butler's divisions with + Gen. Taylor. Gen. Butler was also in favor of + throwing his division across the St. John's river, + and approaching the town from the east, which was + at first determined upon. This was changed, as it + would leave but one, and perhaps the smallest + division, to guard the camp, and attack in front. + The 20th the general also reconnoitered the enemy's + position. Early the morning of the 21st the force + was ordered out to create a diversion in favor of + Worth, that he might gain his position; and before + our division came within long range of the enemy's + principal battery, the foot of Twiggs' division had + been ordered down to the northeast side of the + town, to make an armed reconnoisance of the + advanced battery, and to take it if it could be + done without great loss. The volunteer division was + scarcely formed in rear of our howitzer and mortar + battery, established the night previous under cover + of a rise of ground, before the infantry sent down + to the northeast side of the town became closely + and hotly engaged, the batteries of that division + were sent down, _and we were then ordered to + support the attack._ Leaving the Kentucky regiment + to support the mortar and howitzer battery, the + general rapidly put in march, by a flank movement, + the other three regiments, moving for some one and + a half or two miles under a heavy fire of round + shot. As further ordered, the Ohio regiment was + detached from Quitman's brigade, and led by the + general (at this time accompanied by Gen. Taylor) + into the town. Quitman carried his brigade directly + on the battery first attacked, and gallantly + carried it. Before this, however, as we entered the + suburbs, the chief engineer came up and advised us + to withdraw, as the object of the attack had + failed, and if we moved on we must meet with great + loss. The general was loath to fall back without + consulting with Gen. Taylor, which he did do--the + general being but a short distance off. As we were + withdrawing, news came that Quitman had carried the + battery, and Gen. Butler led the Ohio regiment back + to the town at a different point. In the street we + became exposed to a line of batteries on the + opposite side of a small stream, and also from a + _tête de pont_ (bridge-head) which enfiladed us. + Our men fell rapidly as we moved up the street to + get a position to charge the battery across the + stream. Coming to a cross-street, the general + reconnoitered the position, and determining to + charge from that point, sent me back a short + distance to stop the firing, and advance the + regiment with the bayonet. I had just left him, + when he was struck in the leg, being on foot, and + was obliged to leave the field." + + "On entering the town, the general and his troops + became at once hotly engaged at short musket range. + He had to make his reconnoisances under heavy fire. + This he did unflinchingly, and by exposing his + person--on one occasion passing through a large + gateway into a yard which was entirely open to the + enemy. When he was wounded, at the intersection of + the two streets, he was exposed to a cross-fire of + musketry and grape." + + "In battle the general's bearing was truly that of + a soldier; and those under him felt the influence + of his presence. He had the entire confidence of + his men." + +The narrative of Major Thomas continues: + + "When Gen. Taylor went on his expedition to + Victoria, in December, he placed Gen. Butler in + command of the troops left on the Rio Grande, and + at the stations from the river on to + Saltillo--Worth's small division of regulars being + at the latter place. Gen. Wool's column had by this + time reached Parras, one hundred or more miles west + of Saltillo. General Butler had so far recovered + from his wound as to walk a little and take + exercise on horseback, though with pain to his + limb. One night, (about the 19th December,) an + express came from Gen. Worth at Saltillo, stating + that the Mexican forces were advancing in large + numbers from San Luis de Potosi, and that he + expected to be attacked in two days. His division, + all told, did not exceed 1500 men, if so many, and + he asked reinforcements. The general remained up + during the balance of the night, sent off the + necessary couriers to the rear for reinforcements, + and had the 1st Kentuckey, and the 1st Ohio foot, + then encamped three miles from town, in the place + by daylight; and these two regiments, with + Webster's battery, were encamped that night ten + miles on the road to Saltillo. This promptness + enabled the general to make his second day's march + of twenty-two miles in good season, and to hold the + celebrated pass of Los Muertos, and check the enemy + should he have attacked Gen. Worth on that day, and + obliged him to evacuate the town. Whilst on the + next, and last day's march, the general received + notice that the reported advance of the enemy was + untrue. Arriving at the camp-ground, the general + suffered intense pain from his wound, and slept not + during the night. This journey, over a rugged, + mountainous road, and the exercise he took in + examining the country for twenty miles in advance + of Saltillo, caused the great increase of pain now + experienced." + +The major's account then goes on to relate Gen. Butler's proceedings +while in command of all the forces after the junction of Generals +Worth and Wool--his dispositions to meet the threatened attack of +Santa Anna--the defences created by him at Saltillo, and used during +the attack at Buena Vista in dispersing Miñon's forces--his just +treatment of the people of Saltillo, with the prudent and effectual +precautions taken to make them passive in the event of Santa Anna's +approach. It concludes by stating that all apprehensions of Santa +Anna's advance subsiding, Gen. Butler returned to meet Gen. Taylor at +Monterey, to report the condition of affairs; and the latter, having +taken the command at Saltillo, transmitted a leave of absence to Gen. +Butler, to afford opportunity for the cure of his wound. + +This paper affords evidence of the kind feeling which subsisted +between the two generals during the campaign, and this sentiment was +strongly evinced by Gen. Butler, on his arrival in Washington, where +he spoke in the most exalted terms of the leader under whom he served. + +In person Gen. Butler is tall, straight, and handsomely formed, +exceedingly active and alert--his mien is inviting--his manners +graceful--his gait and air military--his countenance frank and +pleasing--the outline of his features of the aquiline cast, thin and +pointed in expression--the general contour of his head is Roman. + +The character of Gen. Butler in private life is in fine keeping with +that exhibited in his public career. In the domestic circle, care, +kindness, assiduous activity in anticipating the wants of all around +him--readiness to forego his own gratifications to gratify others, +have become habits growing out of his affections. His love makes +perpetual sunshine at his home. Among his neighbors, liberality, +affability, and active sympathy mark his social intercourse, and +unbending integrity and justice all his dealings. His home is one of +unpretending simplicity. It is too much the habit in Kentucky, with +stern and fierce men, to carry their personal and political ends with +a high hand. Gen. Butler, with all the masculine strength, courage, +and reputation to give success to attempts of this sort, never evinced +the slightest disposition to indulge the power, whilst his well-known +firmness always forbade such attempts on him. His life has been one of +peace with all men, except the enemies of his country. + + + + +MATHEW MIZZLE, +OF THE INQUIRING MIND. + +BY THE LATE JOSEPH C. NEAL. + +[Illustration] + + +How could he help it? Born with an inquiring turn of mind, and gifted +from the first with a disposition toward experimental philosophy, by +what processes would you undertake to change the current of Mathew +Mizzle's mind? He is one of those who take nothing for granted. A +weight of authority is little in his mind when compared to the +personal investigation of the fact--facts for the people, and for +himself as one of the people--that's the pivot on which Mathew Mizzle +turns and returns, one fact being to his mind worth whole volumes of +speculative assumption; and to Mizzle all facts, let them relate to +what they may, are of peculiar interest. It is useless to tell him so. +He must go, see and examine for himself. Often, for instance, as he +had been told that Gruffenhoff's big dog would bite at the aspect of +strange visitations, do you think that this species of information +would content the youthful Mizzle? No--he must see into the matter for +himself, and ascertain it beyond the possibility of a doubt, by +touching up Gruffenhoff's big dog with a stick, as the aforesaid big +dog lay asleep in the sun, whereby the demonstration was immediately +afforded. The big dog would bite--he did bite severely; and thus the +little Mizzle added another fact to his magazine of knowledge, as well +as an enduring scar to his person, which placed the result upon +record, and kept memory fresh on the subject. One dog, at least, will +bite; and thenceforth, Mathew Mizzle admitted the inference that dogs +are apt to bite, under circumstances congenial to such dental +performances. If you doubt it, there's the mark. + +"Burnee--burnee, baby," are the notes of warning often heard in the +nursery, when heated stoves become an object of interest to little +human specimens just learning to creep. But "burnee, burnee," conveyed +no precise idea to the infantile Mizzle during his preliminary +locomotive operations; and in consonance with the impulses of his +nature, he soon tried the stove in its most intense displays of +caloric, and in this way determined that "burnee, burnee," was +unpleasant to the person, and injurious to the costume and raiment of +that person, to say nothing of its threatening dispositions toward the +whole establishment. "Burnee, burnee," to the house, as well as +"burnee, burnee," to the baby. And so also as to lamps and +candles--that they would "burnee" too, was placed, painfully, beyond +the impertinent reach of a doubt in minds of the most sceptic order. +Mathew Mizzle can show you the evidences to this day, scored, as it +were, upon the living parchment, and engrossed in characters not to be +misunderstood upon the cuticular binding of his physical identity. + +It was useless, also, to place the little Mathew at the head of +stairs, with information that any further advance on his part would +prove matter of injury. How could he know until he had tried? Indeed, +it required several clear tumbles down an entire flight to satisfy his +judgment on this point, and to imprint it on his mind, through the +medium of his bumpology, that the swiftest transition from one place +to another, especially when effected by the downward movement, is not +always the safest and the most agreeable. But afterward, none knew +better than he what is meant by the word "landing," as applied to the +staircase. "The Landing of Columbus" may be celebrated in pictures; +but Mathew Mizzle accomplished landings that made very nearly as much +noise as that effected by "the world-seeking Genoese," and the voyages +of both were accompanied by squalls. + +But it was not by the touch alone that Mathew Mizzle sought after +information in his earlier career. His taste was equally curious. +Strange bottles were subjects of the most intense interest, so that +like Mithridates, he almost became proof against injury by the +frequent imbibings of poison. He knew that pleasant draughts came from +bottles, but had to learn that because a bottle has contents, it does +not necessarily follow that these contents are either safe or +agreeable. Ink, for instance--a copious mouthful of ink--however +literary one may be, ink thus administered is not a matter over which +the recipient is inclined greatly to rejoice. It did not appear so, at +least, when Mathew Mizzle, in frock and trowsers, astonished, after +this fashion, his mouth, his clothing and the carpet--so astonished +himself that he forgot to reverse the bottle, but permitted it to pour +in a steady stream right into the aperture of his lovely countenance. +No one probably in the wide world ever acquired a greater variety of +knowledge, as to the effect of substances of all kinds upon the human +palate, than was obtained by Mathew Mizzle in the course of his +earlier investigations into the relative qualities of solids and +liquids. A spoonful of Cayenne pepper probably afforded him as much of +surprise as any thing of the same portable compass. The varied +expressions of his countenance would have been a study to a Lavater. +The opera-house never witnessed a dance more remarkable for force and +for expression; and if ever Mathew Mizzle was wide awake--wider than +on any previous occasion, it was when he had seasoned himself highly +with Cayenne. It made Mathew piquant to a degree; and something of the +same kind might have been said of him when under the influence of +mustard. He was then the warmest boy anywhere about; and fully +appreciated the cheering influence of "the castors"--he did not go +upon castors for a long time afterward, and never again to the same +extent. + +There was another source of trouble to Mathew Mizzle. His eyes proper +were sharp enough; but the knowledge they acquired was not sufficient +to satisfy his devouring thirst for information, and therefore much of +his seeing was done with the tips of his fingers, or the grasp of his +hands. He must touch every thing, and of course spoilt many things. +Leave him alone in the room for a moment, and he would open all the +letters, peep into every drawer, smell at every unknown substance, +displace your china, spoil your musical-box, climb up the piano-forte, +and pull over the vases of flowers. If you did not hear a crash this +time, do not flatter yourself. Some secret, but equally important +mischief has been accomplished, though it may not be apparent for +days. The Mathew Mizzles always leave their mark; and when a gun went +off in his hands, the shot that fractured the mirror rendered it +fortunate that the mark was only a mirror, as Mathew Mizzle roared +with terror at "the sound himself had made." + +Mathew Mizzle, grown as he is now to man's estate, has perchance +changed the objects of his pursuit, but the activity both of his mind +and of his body remains undiminished. Curious as ever to ascertain +facts. He is one of those who have ever an eye upon their neighbors. +He follows people to ascertain whither they are going. It is a +favorite amusement of his to peep through the blinds of an evening, to +ascertain what you and your family are about. He listens at doors, and +he peers through cracks and patronizes knot-holes. If he can learn +nothing else, it is a satisfaction for him to ascertain what you are +about to have for dinner, and who stopped in to tea. Speak over loud +in the street, and Mathew Mizzle saunters close at your elbow, but +with such an unconscious look, that you would never dream that he had +come merely for information. + +No one knows better than he all about the domestic difficulties of +families. His sources of intelligence are innumerable. Sometimes you +may find him on the back fence, taking observations of the domestic +circle; and he has been seen of an evening up the linden-tree in front +of domiciles, for similar purposes. The servants of the vicinage are +all on confidential terms with Mathew Mizzle; and--have you not noted +the fact?--when you would have secret discourse with a friend, Mizzle +comes upon you, as the birds of prey scent a battle-field. All secrets +appear to hold a species of telegraphic communication with our friend +Mathew Mizzle, as to the fact at least, that there is a secret in +existence, as well as a regard to its local habitation. + +Ubiquitous Mathew Mizzle, yet invariably out of place. Open the door +suddenly, and Mathew Mizzle is almost knocked down. Throw out a bucket +of water at night, and Mathew Mizzle is there to receive its contents. +Pass a stick through the key-hole, and it's Mizzle's eye that suffers +the detriment. You stumble over him in dark entries--you find him +lying perdu in the closet. Go where you will, there is Mizzle, if it +be in the wrong place for Mizzle's presence. + +Behold him prowling round the scenes to investigate the mysteries of a +theatrical performance. There he is, just where he was told not to be, +and William Tell was not in fault that his arrow has stricken Mathew +Mizzle breathless. What business had Mizzle there in Switzerland, +lurking near the walls of Altorf? + +Mizzle's last catastrophe, like the last catastrophe of many other +distinguished citizens, was effected by means of a ladder, which he +had ascended cautiously by night, after the painters had left their +work, to see what was going on in the chamber of a second story. +Suddenly, there was a dog at the bottom of the aforesaid ladder, and a +cudgel at the top, presenting the alternatives of a dilemma. Switches +above and bark below, what could the unfortunate Mathew Mizzle do but +surrender himself a prisoner of war? Poor Mizzle! They put him under +the pump, and made him acquainted with the nature of ducks. + +Is it not a pity that the system of "espionage" does not obtain in +America, that Mathew Mizzle might have a field for the exercise of the +qualities which are so remarkably developed in his constitution? It +would be a perfect union of duty and of pleasure, if he could be +employed to find out every thing that goes on in town and about, and +it is a great pity that means could not be devised to save so fine a +young man from the waste of his genius. + +"People are so fussy about their secrets," says he, "as if there were +any use of having secrets, if it were not for the fun of finding them +out and talking about them. It's mean and selfish to abridge +intelligence in that sort of way, and if I knew of any country where +they manage matters on a different system, I'd emigrate right away, I +would. A pretty piece of business, to put a man under the pump, +because he seeks after knowledge." + + + + +SHAWANGUNK MOUNTAIN. + +BY ALFRED B. STREET. + + + Before the plough had scattered fields of grain + And grassy orchards midst the oaken woods + Of Shawangunk, upon the mountain's top + Stood a wood-cutter's hut. Himself and wife + Shared it alone. The spot was green and sweet. + The earth was covered with a velvet sward, + Grouped with low thickets, here and there a tree + Rearing its dark rich foliage in the heavens. + + Pleasant the echoes of his fast plied axe, + Merrily rattling through the mountain-woods, + To those who sought the old surveyor's road + For shade and coolness; and amidst the sounds + Would boom deep heavy shocks of falling trees, + Like growls of thunder in the noontide-hush, + So that the eye would glance impulsively + Up to the tree-tops, to discern the peak + Of the ascending cloud. + + His forest-life, + Though rude, was joyous. When the mellow charm + Of sunset on the smiling mountains lay, + The creaking of his high-piled cart would blend + With song or whistle blithe, as, dipping down + The road, he sought the village in the midst + Of the green hollow. This slight mountain-road + Went slanting to the summit, with blazed trunks + On either side, and soft delicious grass + Spreading its carpet; one faint track alone + Telling that wheel had e'er its beauty scarred. + Close to the hut it passed, then downward plunged, + And sought the level of the opposite side. + + 'T was at the close of one cold winter day + That down this road I trod. My weary steps, + With efforts vain, had tracked, for hours, the deer, + And now, with empty flask and rifle, swift, + I journeyed homeward. Nature's great bright eye + Low beaming in the west, still poured sweet light + Upon the mountain. The pure snow, all round, + In delicate rose-tints glowed. The hemlocks smiled, + Speckled with gold. The oak's sear foliage, still + Tight clinging to the boughs, was kindled up + To warm rich brown. The myriad trunks and sprays + Traced their black lines upon the soft snow-blush + Beneath, until it seemed a tangled maze. + Upon the mountain's top, a thread of smoke + From the low cabin rose, as though a streak + Of violet had been painted on the air. + I heard the ring of the wood-cutter's axe, + And, through an opening, saw his instrument + Flashing into a walnut's giant stem, + Whose upborne mass, in the fast lowering light, + Seemed cut in copper. A broad wind-fall near + Let down my eyes upon the hollow. White + In snow it lay, with long and dusky lines + Of fences crossing--groups of orchard-trees-- + Hay-barracks--barns and long low dwelling-roofs. + Straight as an arrow ran the streak of road + Athwart the hollow. As I looked, the eye + In the red west sank lower, till half quenched + Behind the upland, then a shred of light + Glittered and vanished, and the sky was bare. + + Whilst gazing on this splendor, suddenly + I heard a shriek. Shrill, ringing midst the woods + In piercing clearness, through my ears it cut, + And left a sense of deafness. Startled, round + I gazed. Again the horrid sound thrilled past. + I knew it then as the terrific cry + Of the fierce, bloody panther. In our woods + Naught fiercer, bloodier dwells, when roused by rage + Or hunger. Oft our hunters had of late + Marked the huge foot-prints of the ravenous beast, + And heard his scream at midnight, but no eye + As yet had seen him. With a nervous grasp + Upon my useless weapon, and a weight + Of helplessness, like lead, upon my soul, + I started on my path. At every step + I thought his tawny form and fierce green eye + Would meet my sight, upon some limb o'erhead. + But naught was seen. The village soon I reached, + And gladly crossed the threshold of my home. + + The long, cold, breathless night came swiftly down. + The clear, magnificent moon seemed not inlaid + In the bright blue, but stood out bold, distinct, + As though impending from the cloudless skies + Glittering with frost. Upon the sparkling snow + The rich light slept in such sweet purity + As naught on earth can match. The hours sped on, + The silver day still shone serene and clear, + And twinkled on the crystals shooting round. + Gazing once more upon the splendid scene, + Before I sought the couch, my wandering eye + Glanced at the mountain. There it grandly stood + A giant mass of ivory. On the spot + Where the steep slanting road the hollow joined, + My sight a moment dwelt, for there I last + Had swept around a quick and piercing gaze, + In search of the gaunt monster whose keen cry + Still echoed in my ears. Is that a spot + Of shadow flickering in some transient breeze? + No. O'er the hollow, gliding swift, it comes. + Is it the ravenous panther, fierce for blood, + Seeking the village? Closer as it speeds + A clearer shape it shows--a human form-- + 'T is the wood-cutter's wife! She loudly shrieks, + "My husband--lost--wake, wake!" the moonlight falls + Upon her features swollen with tears. A band + Of villagers was soon aroused, and forth + We sallied toward the mountain. So intense + The cold, the snow creaked shrilly at our tread, + And the strewed diamonds on its surface flashed + Back the keen moonlight. As we trod along, + The wife in breathless haste, her story told, + How, when the sunset fell, she watched to see + Her husband's form swift speeding up the road, + From the side-clearing, at that wonted hour, + Toward his low roof. The sunset died, and night + Sprang on the earth; the absent one came not. + The moon moved up; the latch-string was not pulled + For entrance in the cabin. Hours sped on. + And still, upon the silvered snow, no form + Her gaze rewarded. Once she heard afar + A panther's shriek. Her fear to frenzy rose. + To the side-clearing sped she; naught was there + But solitude and moonlight. As she told + Her tale I shuddered. In my ear again + Rang the fierce shriek I heard as sunset glowed, + And my flesh crept with horror. Up we trod + Our mountain snow-path speedily. At length, + To where the narrow opening in the woods + Led from the road, we came. 'T was at this spot + I stood, and watched the form and flashing axe + Of him, the lost. We passed within. The moon + Threw on the little clearing a full flood + Of radiance. There the crusted wood-pile stood; + There was the walnut with a ghastly notch + Deep in its heart. A ledge of rock rose up + Beside the wounded tree, and at its base + A space of blackest hue proclaimed a chasm. + No life was stirring on the brilliant waste; + The trees rose like a wall on every side + But where the ledge frowned darkly. As I checked + My footsteps at the half-hewn walnut, drops + Thick sprinkled round--the snow stamped down--an axe + Lying upon the high wreathed roots, my gaze, + As with a charm, arrested. From this spot + Large prints and a broad furrow stretched along + To the black chasm within the rocky ledge. + We clustered round the mouth. A low, deep growl + Came from the depths. Two orbs of flashing fire + Glared in the darkness. Brace, the hunter, aimed + His rifle just between the flaming spots, + And fired. Fierce growls and gnashings loud of teeth + Blent with the echoes, and then all was still. + The spots were seen no more. A few had brought + Splinters of pine for torches, and the flint + Supplied the flame. With one hand grasping tight + A hatchet keen, the other a bright torch, + The dauntless hunter ventured, with slow steps, + Within the cavern. Soon a shout we heard, + And Brace appeared, with all his giant strength + Dragging a lifeless panther. In again + He passed, and then brought out a human form, + Mangled and crushed. A shriek pealed wild and high, + And, swooning, sank the wife upon the snow, + Beside the dead. With silent, deep-felt awe + We bore both to the hut. A sudden cloud + Rose frowning from the north, and deep and fierce + Howled the loosed tempest. From her death-like swoon, + Roused by our care, the hapless wife poured out + Her cries and wailings. Through the livelong night + We heard her moans and screams and ravings wild, + Blending with all those stern and awful tones + That the scourged forest yields. But morning dawned, + And brought the widowed and the broken heart + The peace of death. Beside the lonely hut, + Two graves were opened in the frozen snow, + And silence then fell deeply on the spot. + No more the smoke curled up. No more the axe + Rang in the mountain; and a few short years + Leveled the cabin with the forest-earth, + Midst spreading bushes, fern and waving grass. + + + + +INNOCENCE. + + + Let me, lamb-like, share caresses, + From thy hand that knows not stain; + Flowers that woo, the smile that blesses, + Hours that pass and leave no pain! + + Be with me in sleeping, waking; + Be with me in toil and rest; + Living, thine; and, life forsaking, + Let me slumber on thy breast! + +[Illustration: INNOCENCE] + + + + +A DRAMA OF REAL LIFE. + +(IN A LETTER FROM N. P. WILLIS TO THE EDITOR OF GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE.) + + + TO GEO. R. GRAHAM, ESQ. + _New York, December_ 1, 1847. + + DEAR SIR,--By to-night's mail should go to you a + piece of mental statuary, which is yet in a marble + block of the reluctant quarry of my brain--due to + you by agreement on the first of December, one + unconceived tale! But though we do so strangely + bargain the invisible wares of the imagination, + deliverable, like merchandize, on a certain day, + the contractor is still liable to the caprices of + the world he trades from, and your order on me for + fancy yet undug, must, I fear, be protested. You + would not believe me if I were to tell you + literally why. But the truth is that I, and a + certain cave (mentioned by Humboldt, on the banks + of the Oronookoo, which he calls a "subterranean + organ,") can only give out music in certain states + of the weather. With the dry, sharp, icy north wind + of the last few days, I could no more write than I + could supply electricity to Morse's wire. + + But--no failure is _quite_ twenty shillings in the + pound. What say you to the assets? The statue will + not be forth coming--but will you have the model, + after which the undug block was to have been + chiseled? Shall I send you the literal truth which + I had intended to drape with imagination--tell the + facts of real life which I had designed to weave + into a story. I shall thus, at least, clear + _yourself_ of the non-fulfillment of the promise of + your pre-advertised contents, and (engaging to send + you a story properly completed for the next number) + shall effect, perhaps, a compromise for my + delinquent punctuality. + + This, then, is the thread of literal truth which + was to have run through the fancy-woof of my story. + + Some years ago, after a year or two of residence in + different cities of Italy, I found myself very much + at home in Naples. It was an unusually gay + season--the concentration of the rank and fashion + of the floating society of travelers varying + between Rome, Florence, and Naples, very much as it + does, in our country, between the different + watering-places--by caprices that no one can + foresee. The English people of rank, more + particularly, were in very great force; and the + blonde moustaches, so much admired in the + dark-haired South, and the skins of alabaster and + rose, so envied by the brunettes of Italy, abounded + at the balls and in the public places. The king + kept very gay court, the royal entertainments + accessible to all strangers properly introduced, + and the ambassadors and bankers, nobles and wealthy + strangers, seemed to want twice as many nights and + mornings in the week, so conflicting were the balls + and breakfasts, driving-parties and dinners. + + As, of course, an unobserved looker-on in scenes of + such brilliant rivalry and display, I had more + attention to spare than most whom I met; and I + soon found myself--eyes, mind, fancy, and + interest, absorbed in one study--a new revelation + of a type of woman. We are accustomed to see the + sex in classes--hundreds of a kind--and find them + sufficiently absorbing as nouns of multitude. It is + probably one of Heaven's principles of human + safety, that women are made in "lots" so like, that + a transfer of a slighted heart, from an unwilling + beauty to some willing likeness of her, safely + vents the volcano. Proportionately dangerous, + however, are those rare women--of whom a man sees, + perhaps, one or two in his life--who are the only + ones of their type and kind; for, out of love for + them, their is no exit but through their hearts. + + You are going too fast if you fancy I am about to + record a fruitless passion of my own. Though of + "easy wax," I am not stamped, except by will of the + imprintress; and my only cobweb thread of personal + remembrance is a horseback excursion to Camaldoli, + in which I played the propriety-third to the best + of my discretion. It is necessary to define thus + much, to redeem my estimate of the lady from the + imputation of mere fancy. Had I known her + intimately, or not known her at all, my judgment of + her would be less reliable. In just the position + for untroubled and most favorable observation, I + studied her in silence through that brilliant + season, and laid away her image (as one does + without more than one or two choked-down + aspirations) to people castles in the air, and fill + niches in the temple of dreams. + + The foregoing prepares you for a portrait of the + proposed heroine of my story--but that you would + have had, had the story been written. I never could + draw a picture of a woman but from the life, and to + that fictitious tale I should have transferred, + with studied and careful truthfulness, the enamel + portrait burnt in upon my memory, and which you + would have admired my fancy for conceiving. Oh! the + mistake of supposing that we can imagine things + brighter than we have seen with our eyes--that + there is any kingdom of air, visitable by poets, + which is comparable to the glorious world we live + in, with its _some_ women, _some_ sunsets, _some_ + strains of music, and _some_ fore-tasted + heaven-thrills of emotion. + + The heir to one of the oldest titles of England was + the husband of this lady. The fortunes of his + family had been wasted; and they had lived for a + generation or two in comparative obscurity, when + the present Lord ---- came of age. He had been + educated carefully, but was of great personal + beauty, and I thought when I first saw him, was as + fine a model as I had ever seen of the quiet, + reserved, self-intrenched school of modern English + manners. With his beauty and his title, though with + little or no estate, he had easily married a lady + of fortune--the only daughter of a retired banker. + And this heiress, Lady ----, is the one whose story + I would have told through a veil of fiction. + + The Countess of ---- was an unsurpassed horsewoman, + and rode constantly. Her blood-horses had been sent + round by ship from England; and she was always + mounted on an animal whose every fibre seemed + obedient to her thought, and with whose motion + every line of her own tall and slenderly-rounded + person, and every ringlet of her flowing, golden + curls seemed in a correspondence governed by the + very spirit of beauty. She rode with her rein + loose, and her mind apparently absorbed with any + thing but her horse. A turn of her head, or the + pressure of her foot upon his shoulder, was + probably the animal's guidance. But, of an + excessively impassioned nature, she conversed in + the saddle with the expression and gesture of the + most earnest untrammeling of mind, and, in full + speed, as in the repose upon a lounge in a saloon, + she carried away the listener with her + uncalculating and passionate absorption--no + self-possession, however on its guard it might be, + able, apparently, to withstand the enveloping and + resistless influence which she herself was a slave + to. Unconsciousness of every thing in the world, + except the feeling she was pouring from her soul, + seemed the only and every-day condition and law of + her nature; and supreme as she was in fashion of + dress, and style of manner, these seemed matters + learned and lost thought of--she having returned to + nature, leaving her triumphs as a belle to be cared + for by infallible habit. A separate spirit of + light, speaking from the lips of the most + accomplished and best perfected of women--the + spirit, and the form possessed, being each in full + exercise of their best faculties--could scarcely + have conveyed more complete impressions of wondrous + mind, in perfect body, or have blended more + ravishingly, the entireness of heavenly with the + most winning earthly development. She was an + earnest angel, in the person of a self-possessed + and unerringly graceful woman. + + I chanced to be looking on, when Prince ----, one + of the brothers of a royal family of central + Europe, was presented to the Countess ----. It was + at a crowded ball; and I observed that, after a few + minutes of conversation with her, he suddenly + assumed a ceremonious indifference of manner, and + went into another room. I saw at once that the + slightness of the attention was an "anchor to + windward," and that, in even those few minutes the + prince had recognized a rare gem, and foreseen + that, in the pursuit of it, he might need to be + without any remembered particularity of attention. + Lady ----- conversed with him with her usual + earnest openness, but started a little, once or + twice, at words which were certainly unaccompanied + by their corresponding expression of countenance; + and this, too, I put down for an assumption of + disguise on the part of the prince. It was natural + enough; with his conspicuous rank, he could only + venture to be unguarded in his attentions to those + for whom he had no presentiment of future intimacy. + + That the progress of this acquaintance should + assume for me the interest of a drama--a scene of + it played every night, with interludes every day, + in public drives and excursions--would not be + wonderful to you, could I have drawn the portrait + of the principal performer in it, so that you would + understand its novelty. I had never seen such a + woman, and I was intensely interested to know how + she would bear temptation. The peculiar character + of the prince I easily understood; and I felt at + once, that of all stages of an accomplished man's + progress, he was at the one most dangerous to her, + while, perhaps, no other kind of woman in the world + would have called upon any but very practiced + feelings of his own. He was of middle age, and had + intellect enough to have long anticipated the ebb + of pleasure. With his faculties and perceptions in + full force, he was most fastidious in permitting + himself to enjoy an enthusiasm, to admire, to yield + to, or to embark upon with risk. The admiration of + mere beauty, mere style, mere wit, mere superiority + of intellect in woman, or of any of these combined, + was but a recurrent phase of artificial life. He + had been to the terminus, the farthest human + capability of enjoyment of this, and was now back + again to nature, with his keenest relish in + reserve, looking for such outdoings of art as + nature sometimes shows in her caprices. In the + Countess ---- he recognized at once a rare miracle + of this--a woman whose beauty, whose style, whose + intellect, whose pride, were all abundant, but, + abundant as they were, still all subservient to + electric and tumultuous _sensation_. Her life, her + impulse--the consciousness with which she + breathed--was the one gift given her by Heaven in + tenfold measure, and her impression on those she + expanded to, was like the magnetizing presence of + ten full existences poured into one. The heart + acknowledged it before her--though the reason knew + not always why. + + Lord ---- would scarce have been human had he not + loved such a woman, and she his wife. He did love + her--and doubtless loves her at this hour with all + the tenderness of which he could ever be capable. + If they had lived only on their estates in England, + where seclusion would have put up no wall of + concealment to his feelings, she might have drawn + from the open well of his heart, the water for + which her ardent being was athirst. But with the + usage of fashionable life, he followed his own + amusements during the day, leaving the countess to + hers; and in scenes of gayety they were, of course, + still separated by custom; and all she enjoyed of + nature in her rides, or of excitement in society, + was, of course, with others than her husband. + Naples is in the midst of palace-gardens, and of + wonders of scenery--in seeing which love is + engendered in the bosom and brain with tropical + fruitfulness--and Lady ---- could no more have + lived that year in Italy without passionate loving, + than she could have stayed from breathing the + fragrance of the orange blossoms, when galloping + between the terraced gardens of Sorrento. + + * * * * * + + When abroad, a little more than a year ago, I made + a visit to a friend, whose estate is in the same + county with that of the father of Lady ----, and + between whose park-gates and his extends the + distance of a morning's drive through one of the + loveliest hedged winding-roads of lovely England. A + very natural inquiry was of the whereabout and + happiness of the Countess of ----, whom I had left + at Naples ten years before, and had not been in the + way of hearing of since; and I named her in the gay + tone with which one speaks of the brilliant and + happy. We were sitting at the dinner-table, and I + observed that I had mis-struck a chord of feeling + in the company present, and with well-bred tact, + the master of the house informed me that + misfortunes had befallen the family since the + period I spoke of, and turned the conversation to + another topic. After dinner, I heard from him the + following outline of the story, and its affecting + sequel. + + Near the close of the season when Lord ---- was at + Naples, he suddenly left that city and returned + with his wife and their one child to England. To + the surprise of the wondering world, Lady ---- went + to her father's, and Lord ---- to the small estate + of his widowed mother, where they remained for a + while in unexplained seclusion. It was not long + before rumors arrived from Italy, of a nature + breathing upon the reputation of the lady; and soon + after a formal separation took place, Mr. ----, her + father, engaging to leave his whole fortune to the + son of Lord ----, if that nobleman would consent to + give him to the exclusive keeping of his mother. + With these facts ended the world's knowledge of the + parties, the separated pair remaining, year after + year, in absolute seclusion; and Lady ---- never + having been known to put foot beyond the extending + forest in which her home was hidden from view, and + the gates to which were guarded from all entrance, + even of family friends. + + It was but a few days before this sequel was + narrated to me, that the first communication had + been made from the Countess of ---- to her + husband. It was a summons to attend, if he wished, + the burial of his only child--the heir of his name, + and the bringer-back, had he lived, of wealth to + the broken fortunes of his title. A severer blow + could hardly have followed the first--for it struck + down heart, pride, and all that could brighten this + world's future. Lord ----came. The grave was made + in a deep grove of firs on the estate of the boy's + mother. There were but three mourners + present--herself, her father, and her husband. The + boy was ten or eleven years old when he died, and + one of the most gifted and noble lads, in mind and + person, that had ever been seen by those who knew + him. On his horse, with his servant behind him, the + young boy-lord was a constant sight of pride and + beauty to the inhabitants of the county, and was + admired and beloved every where he rode in his + daily excursions. + + The service was read; the two parents stood side by + side at the grave, while the body was laid in + it--the first time they had met since their + separation, and both in the prime of life, and with + hearts yearning--both hearts, beyond a doubt--with + love, and longing for forgiveness; and when the + earth rang on the coffin, they _parted without + exchanging a word_. The carriage of Lord ---- + waited for him in the avenue; and with the expiring + echo of his wheels through that grove of fir-trees, + died all hope and prospect, if any had been + conceived, of a re-union, in grief, of these proud + broken-hearted. + + I have told you thus, with literal truth, all that + I could know of this drama of real life; but, of + course, its sketchy outline could be easily filled + out by fancy. Your readers, perhaps, will like to + do this for themselves. + Yours truly, + N. P. WILLIS. + + + + +LINES TO ----. + +BY CAROLINE F. ORNE. + + + Like a cloud of the summer sunset + Gleaming across the blue, + Like a star of the golden twilight + Through the misty evening dew, + Like a strain of heavenly music + Breathed mournfully and low, + Charming the heart to sadness + By its bewildering flow-- + Thou camest to my presence + In the far off long-ago. + Thou camest for a moment, + Then fleeted swift away, + As the rosy cloud of sunset + Fades at the close of day, + As the beaming star of twilight + Withdraws its golden ray. + Thou hast past from out my presence + As the songs low cadence dies, + Which the heart seeketh ever, + And evermore it flies. + Oh, in my weary journeying + Come to me yet once more, + While still my footsteps wander + On Time's uncertain shore. + Come to me, oh, sweet vision + Of what my soul has sought, + And with mine once more mingle + Thy far, sky-piercing thought. + Call I in vain thy spirit? + Do I seek thee all in vain? + Shall I never hear thy accent + In music fall again? + Why didst thou cross my pathway, + Oh soul so pure and true? + To fade like the clouds of sunset. + Like the star from the misty blue? + + + + +AUTUMNAL SCENERY. + +WHAT IS NECESSARY TO THE ENJOYMENT OF NATURE'S BEAUTIES. + +BY JOSEPH R. CHANDLER. + + +I am not of those who think that a true enjoyment of the beauties of +nature, of natural scenery, and natural objects, generally, is a test +of the purity of principle or the delicacy of sentiment, any more than +I hold that a love of music is essential to domestic, social or +political virtue. The cultivation of the eye and the ear--or the +capabilities in those organs for cultivation--have more to do with all +this than many seem to allow; and men and women of the purest +principles, and the highest benevolence, may stand within the +loveliest scenes that nature has ever spread out, or may listen to the +most delicious music that art has ever prepared and performed, without +comprehending the beauties or the excellence of either, or imagining +that there is a moral test applied to them in these attractions. +Nevertheless, there is an enjoyment in such scenes and such sounds, +and those who are permitted to share therein have another life--or +such an additional enjoyment added to _that_ of ordinary minds, that +they seem to live more, if not longer, in such pleasures than the +common allotment; and none, I suspect, will doubt that the indulgence +of a taste for natural beauties tends to soften the mind, soothe the +passions, and thus elevate the feelings and aspirations. + +If I have less of the power of appreciating and enjoying rural sights +and rural sounds, if there is vouchsafed to me a _limited_ capability +of understanding and delighting in the beauties of the field and wood, +of gathering pleasure from the outstretched loveliness of land and +stream, still I thank God; and I speak with reverence, I thank God +that I have _some_ pleasure in these things; and more than that, I +have a certain fixed delight in noticing the enjoyment which the +better formed and higher cultivated mind derives from what a good +Providence has poured out for the decoration of the earth. Humble as +this faculty may be, which is partly exercised through intermediate +objects, I find it useful to me, and, still better, I find that it +ministers to other pleasures--to enjoy what is lovely is a high and a +cultivated talent--the enjoyment of that loveliness with another +kindred or more elevated mind is a yet higher attainment, as the +performance of _concerted_ music is more difficult and more gratifying +than a simple solo. + +Rarely within my recollection, and that is as inclusive as the +remembrance of almost any around me, rarely has an autumn been more +delightful than that which has just closed, in its clear, shining +sunlight, or more attractive for its bland and healthful temperature. +Not leisure--for that I have little to boast of, or to _fear_. Let my +young readers mark that word, _fear_. I am not about to write a +homily upon the uses of time and talents, but let me parenthetically +note that the gift of enjoying leisure is so rare in the young, that a +lack of constant occupation should be rather feared than courted. I do +not speak of the danger of flagrant vice, but of a growing propensity +to disregard portions of time, because only _portions_ may be +necessary to the discharge of admitted duties--the danger is +imminent--but not to the young alone. In youth, love of action _may_ +employ the leisure to the promotion of vice in age, a tendency to +inertness may induce the abuse of the leisure to total inaction. I can +hardly imagine any object more unsightly than an idle old man--the +dead trunk of a decayed tree, marring the landscape and injuring +culture. But I must return. Not leisure, for I have little of that to +boast of or fear; not leisure, but a love, a growing love for the +partial solitude of the field, and something of an enjoyment of the +elevating communion which it leaves, sent me more than once in +November last strolling beyond the dusty roads and noisy turnpike in +the vicinity of our city. It was, as I have reason to recollect, on +the eighteenth of November, that I was wandering observantly, but in +deep contemplation, across some of the fields that lie near the road +leading from the city to Frankford. It was a lovely day, and every +feeling of my heart was consonant to the scene. Ascending a little +eminence, I obtained an extensive view. The forest trees had lost +their rich garb of mottled beauties, and their denuded limbs stretched +out with attenuated delicacy, seemed to streak the distant horizon +with darkened lines. On my right the winding Delaware lay stretched +out in glassy beauty, and near me, glittering in the sunlight beyond, +were a thousand gossamer webs that had survived a recent storm. The +fields were unusually green, for the season, as if the year were +clothing itself, like an expiring prelate, with its richest +habiliments, that its departure might leave the impress of that beauty +which comes from its usefulness. I had yielded to the influences of +the scene, had allowed my feeling to predominate, and was in the midst +of an unwonted abstraction from all ordinary cares and relations, +catching something of that state with which the more gifted are +indulged, when I was startled by the sound of footsteps upon the +carpet-like grass around me. + +"Hardly looking for game here?" said the person inquiringly. + +"And without dog and gun?" said I. + +"There's not much game in these parts," said he. + +"And yet I was hunting!" said I. "Hunting pleasure from the prospect." + +"I do not derive much pleasure," said my companion, "from such +things. Almost all fields are alike to me. Generally they are places +for labor, or they lie between my residence and labor, and thus make a +toilsome distance." + +"But do you not enjoy the pleasure of this scene? Do you not, while +looking abroad from some eminence, feel a sensation different from +what you experience while walking on the turnpike?" + +"Most generally. I think there was once or twice a feeling came over +me here which I did not exactly understand." + +"And when was that?" + +"Always on Sunday morning, as I have been crossing the field to attend +service at the church yonder. I could not tell whether it was a sense +of relief from ordinary labor, or something connected with the service +in which I was about to join; but, certainly, the fields, and woods, +and water beyond, had a different appearance, and seemed to affect me +differently from their ordinary influence. Perhaps as these feelings +are recent, they may have sprung from another cause." + +"If the beauties of nature, and the influence of religious aspirations +could not account for those feelings which you experienced, I can +scarcely tell whence you derived the sensation." + +"I suppose that all beauties are not discernable at once, and our +sympathies are not all awakened by a single exhibition of what may be +productive of delight or sorrow. Whatever of pleasure I have derived +from the beauties observable from such places as this, are not +primarily referable to my own powers of application, but rather from +the lessons of another--lessons derived from a few words, and from +constant example." + +"And, pray, what _example_ could open to you new beauties in a +landscape, or develop attractions in a scene which you had been in the +habit of seeing for many years?" + +"I do not know that any one has taught me by word and example to see +from any point of observation, aught that I had not discerned before, +but it is certain that what was unnoticeable became an object of +contemplation, and points of the scenery have been made to harmonize +by association, when viewed separately, they had little that was +attractive. + +"A few years since, a young lady, I think of European birth, was +brought to live in the house which stands near yonder clump of trees; +her situation seemed that of an humble companion to the lady--but her +services and her influence made her more than loved. I never saw more +affection exhibited than all of the household manifested toward her. I +cannot tell you what means she used to acquire such a mastery over the +love of all around her, but, though less within the influence of her +attractive manners than some others, I yet shared in the general +feeling of regard. She was a frequent visiter to a small eminence in +this immediate neighborhood, and I often followed her thither, though +I was careful not to reach the place until her departure; and then I +have gone around as she did, looking at the various points of the +scenery, to try to have the enjoyment which was imparted to her from +the visits. Once I came when she was here, and met a condescension +entirely hidden in kindness; she called my attention to what she +designated the numerous beauties of the place, and subsequently I went +frequently to the spot to look at what she had pointed out, and I +think I occasionally derived some new pleasure from the scene. I am +not able now to say whether that pleasure was the result of new +capacities to behold beauties, or whether it was consequent upon my +respect for her who had imparted the lesson. Perhaps both. + +"There was a young man, a relative of Mrs. ----, with whom this lady +resided, that came frequently to the house. I never saw a person +apparently more winning in his manner, or more delicate in his +attentions; and, as all expected, he proposed for marriage to the +young woman. It was thought that there would be objections on the part +of _his_ relations--and there were; but they came from the gentleman +of the house, who plainly declared that the young man was not worthy +of the woman he sought. Her heart, it was evident, was concerned; it +was whispered, I know not how truly, that the youth had associations +in the city unworthy his relations at home. But when do the young and +confiding ever regard monitions of this kind. She, whose good sense +had restored order to a family that needed direction, and had +sustained her against all adverse circumstances among strangers, could +not influence her against the pleadings of her own heart. The young +man, more than a year since, received a commission, and joined the +army at Mexico. He left with her a sealed paper, and his favorite dog. +The animal was already most affectionately attached to her, and now +became her constant companion. Never did I see an animal so completely +devoted to a human being; never was kindness more reciprocated than +was that of the companion of her walks; he patiently awaited at the +door of the church for the conclusion of the services, and at night +held vigils beneath her window. I think the dog, too, must have +understood something of the beauty of this scenery; for I have seen +him for an hour together standing wistfully beside his mistress, and +gazing up into her face, and then not meeting with an encouraging +look, stretching his sight far away in the direction of her eyes, as +if determined to share with her whatever contributed to her pleasure +or her pain. + +"Less than four months ago news reached the family of the death of the +young man--I do not remember the exact time, or the place of the +engagement in which he fell--but his death produced deep sensation in +the family generally, but it went to the heart of the young lady. I +saw her once or twice on her favorite place in the field, but I dared +not approach her--she had no companion but the faithful dog. In two +weeks she was confined to her bed--and shortly afterward the family +was plunged in new afflictions by her death. I was inquiring of one of +the family relative to the particular disease of which she died, and +heard it suggested that it might have been a rapid consumption." + +"I think not," said a very little girl, who had shared in the +affectionate instruction of the deceased. + +"And why?" + +"Can the heart of a person break to pieces?" asked the child. + +"The heart may be broken," I said. + +"Then that is it--for I heard mamma tell sister that Miss Mary's heart +was broken." + +"I have noticed that the death of an affianced one is more severely +felt by a woman, as a severe disturbance of affection, than is the +death of a husband. And I suppose this comes from the delicacy of a +maiden that shrinks from the utterance of a grief which finds vent and +sympathy with a widow. I never hear of such a bereavement without +deeper sorrow for the survivor's sufferings, than I have for the +mourning wife. God help her who's crushed by a grief that she may not +openly indulge; who must hide in her bosom the fire that is consuming +her life." + +The sealed paper was reopened; it contained a rich bequest to the +young woman, and with it was a small piece of paper, containing _her_ +request to be buried beyond us, whence she had so often contemplated +the scene around us. The field was her own property, by the will of +the young man. She relinquished all else of his gift. "We buried her +_there_. I say _we_--for though my position was far below hers, yet +none felt more deeply her loss than those who looked up to admire her. +The little paling that surrounds the eminence was erected to keep away +the foot of the thoughtless. Shall we go to see the grave?" + +I followed the man into the enclosure. The sods which covered the +grave of Mary had not yet united; and one or two seemed to be worn, as +if they had been treated with some rudeness. I drew the attention of +my guide to the abrasion. + +"Ah, yes! that is poor Lara's doings," said he. "Poor dog! I looked +around for him at the funeral, expecting to see him at the grave, but +was disappointed. Every evening since the funeral, just before the sun +goes down, and often in the morning--the hours in which Miss Mary was +wont to come hither to enjoy the scenery--poor Lara has been seen +stretched out upon the grave, uttering his grief in a low wail. I +scarcely believe that he will recover from the loss he has sustained; +and others might be equally unconsolable, if they did not feel that it +is better with Mary now than when she lived." + +When I had looked downward to the grave for a time, and almost into +it, that I might the better contemplate the character and end of her +who rested there, my companion drew my attention to the beauty of what +was around us. + +"Miss Mary loved to stand here," said he, "and enjoy the rich sunset. +Mark, now, how richly its beams are thrown from the windows of yonder +Gothic house beyond the turnpike, and on the new dwelling a little +this side. A mellowness is in that light, to soothe where it falls; +and the whispering of the southern wind that we now hear, is like the +cries of spirits communing with their good sister below us." + +"You seem now to enjoy the scenery, my friend," said I, "as much as +almost any other person." + +"Sir, I have felt, of late, a growing fondness for this place and this +scene; and last Sunday, when returning from the afternoon service, I +stood here almost wrapt in the pleasure which the place afforded to +the departed one, and I have since come to believe that there is +something more than book-knowledge necessary to the relish of natural +scenery." + +"May I ask what that _something_ is, which you think assists us to +appreciate the beauty of a landscape?" + +"Why, sir--perhaps I am wrong, you certainly know better than I--but, +it appears to me, my growing sense of enjoyment in this scene is due +to the memory of the virtues of her whom I constantly connect with +this place, and that enjoyment is fixed and augmented by the frame of +mind in which I go to, or come from the place of worship." + +"If I understand you correctly, you have come to the conclusion that +to enjoy nature, our hearts must be touched, and our affections +mellowed by earthly sympathies, and our views expanded and elevated by +a sense of religious duties." + +"Something like that, sir." + +"And is not that what is understood by 'LOVE TO GOD, AND LOVE TO MAN?'" + + + + +POETRY.--A SONG. + +BY GEORGE P. MORRIS. + + + To me the world's an open book + Of sweet and pleasant poetry; + I read it in the running brook + That sings its way toward the sea: + It whispers in the leaves of trees, + The swelling grain, the waving grass. + And in the cool fresh evening breeze + That crisps the wavelets as they pass. + + The flowers below--the stars above-- + In all their bloom and brightness given, + Are, like the attributes of love, + The poetry of earth and heaven. + Thus Nature's volume, read aright, + Attunes the soul to minstrelsy, + Tinging life's clouds with rosy light, + And all the world with poetry. + + + + +THE MOURNER. + +BY THE LATE DR. JOHN D. GODMAN. + + + Why is thy visage o'ershadowed by gloom, + Are Nature's enchantments not scattered around, + Has the rose lost her fragrance, the tulip her bloom, + Has the streamlet no longer its mild, soothing sound? + Say what are thy pleasures--or whence is thy bliss, + In thy breast can no movements of sympathy rise? + Canst thou glance o'er a region so lovely as this, + And no bright ray of pleasure enliven thine eyes? + Where are there fields more delightfully drest, + In a verdure still fresh'ning with every shower? + Here are oak-covered mountains, with valleys of rest, + Richly clothed in the blossoming sweet scented flower. + Why lingerest thou ever to gaze on that star, + Sinking low in the west e'er the twilight is o'er? + While the shadows of evening extending afar + Bid the warbler's blithe carol be poured forth no more, + Oh why when the Sabbath bell's pleasantest tone + Wakes the soul of devotion in song to rejoice, + Are thy features with sorrow o'erclouded alone, + While no sounds but of sadness are heard from thy voice? + + Listen, while I tell thee, stranger! + In a brief and hurried measure: + Though my soul drink not of pleasure, + Though mine eyes be sunk in gloom; + Tis not from fear of coming danger, + Nor yet from dread of doom. + + The youngest leaves must fall, + When summer beams have ceased to play; + And may not sorrow spread her pall, + When joy, and hope, and love decay? + Earth's loveliest scenes; + The boons of heaven most cherished; + Fields dressed in gladdening greens, + Are drear, when hope has perished: + Spring's beauteousness, + Followed by summer's glory, + May fade without the power to bless, + As doth a dreaméd story. + + It gives me peace to gaze at even, + Watching the latest, faintest gleam + Of yon bright traveler of heaven, + Reflected in the silver stream; + For she I love has gently leaned-- + While my fond heart with bliss was swelling-- + Upon my arm, to see descend + That brilliant star in light excelling. + + The chiming bells give joy no more, + Long since the tones have lost their sweetness; + They now but wake me to deplore + The bliss that fled with air-like fleetness. + Blame not my sorrow: chilling pride + Nor clouds my brow nor kills the smile; + For loss of wealth I never sighed, + But all for her I mourn the while. + She was my all, my fairest, dearest, best; + I loved--I lost her--tears may speak the rest. + + + + +ELSIE. + +BY KATE DASHWOOD. + + + A young white rose-bud--with its leaves + Just blown apart, and wet with dew-- + A fair child in a garland weaves + 'Mid glowing flowers of every hue. + She sitteth by the rushing river, + While the soft and balmy air + Scarce stirs the starry flowers that quiver + Amid her sunny hair-- + Thou of the laughing eyes! 'mid all + The roses of thy coronal-- + Thou'rt fairest of the fair. + + Ah, bright young dreamer! may thy heart + In its early freshness ever be + Pure as the leaves--just blown apart-- + Of the rose thou'rt wreathing in childish glee. + Ah, well I know those flowers thou'rt twining + For thy fair pale mother dear-- + For the love-light in those blue eyes shining + Is shadowed by a tear; + And thy thoughts are now in that dim, hushed room-- + With the sad, sweet smile, and the fading bloom-- + _Thou'rt all too young to fear._ + + + + +SONNET TO ----. + + + The crimson clouds had gathered round the sun, + Sinking full slowly to his nightly rest, + And gilding with a glory all his own + The bannered splendor of the glowing west, + Entranced I gazed upon the gorgeous scene + That thus so fair before my vision lay; + The calm, serene, blue heavens looked out between, + And softly smiled upon retiring day. + All was so beautiful, I could but feel + A shade of sadness that thou wert not nigh, + The radiant glory to behold with me; + And still the thought would o'er my spirit steal, + That all the clouds and mists in my dark sky + Would gather rays of glory, my life's sun, from thee! + C. O. + + + + +GAME-BIRDS OF AMERICA.--NO. VIII. + +AMERICAN STARLING OR MEADOW-LARK. + + +This well-known inhabitant of our meadows like the Partridge, is +sociable, somewhat gregarious, and partially migratory. The change of +country, however, appears to be occasioned only by scarcity of food, +and many of them pass the whole winter with us. They may be bought in +our markets when snow is on the ground; and in the month of February, +Wilson found them picking up a scanty subsistence in the company of +the snow-birds, on a road over the heights of the Alleghanies. Its +flight, like that of the Partridge, is laborious and steady. Though +they collect their food from the ground, they are frequently shot on +trees, their perch being either the main branches, or the topmost +twigs. At the time of pairing, they exhibit a little of the jealous +disposition of the tribe, but his character vindicated by his bravery, +and the victory achieved, he retires from his fraternity to assist his +mate in the formation of her nest. The flesh of the Meadow-Lark is +white, and for size and delicacy, it is considered little inferior to +the Partridge. In length, he measures ten and a half inches, in alar +extent, nearly seventeen. Above, his plumage, as described by Nuttall, +is variegated with black, bright bay, and ochreous. Tail, wedged, the +feathers pointed, the four outer nearly all white; sides, thighs, and +vent, pale ochreous, spotted with black; upper mandible brown, the +lower bluish-white; iris, hazel; legs and feet, large, pale +flesh-colour. In the young bird the color is much fainter than in the +adult. + +[Illustration: RICE BUNTING. (_Emberiza Oryzivora._ WILSON.)] + +This is the Rice and Reed-Bird of Pennsylvania and the Southern +States, and the Boblink of New York and New England. He is of little +size, but of great consequence, hailed with pleasure by the sportsman +and the epicure, and dreaded as worse than a locust by the careful +planter. Wilson has treated of him fully, and from his eloquent +account we shall endeavor to select a few points in his history worthy +of notice. According to his best biographer, then, three good +qualities recommend him, particularly as these three are rarely found +in the same individual--his plumage is beautiful, his song highly +musical, and his flesh excellent. To these he added the immense range +of his migrations, and the havoc he commits. The winter residence of +this species is from Mexico to the Amazon, from whence they issue in +great hosts every spring. In the whole United States, north of +Pennsylvania, they remain during the summer, raising their progeny; +and as soon as the young are able to fly they collect together in +great multitudes, and pour down on the oat-fields of New England. +During the breeding season, they are dispersed over the country; but +as soon as the young are able to fly, they collect together in great +multitudes, like a torrent, depriving the proprietors of a good tithe +of their harvest, but in return often supply his table with a very +delicious dish. From all parts of the north and western regions they +direct their course toward the south, and about the middle of August, +revisit Pennsylvania, on their route to winter quarters. For several +days they seem to confine themselves to the fields and uplands; but as +soon as the seeds of the reed are ripe, they resort to the shores of +the Delaware and Schuylkill in multitudes; and these places, during +the remainder of their stay, appear to be their grand rendezvous. The +reeds, or wild oats, furnish them with such abundance of nutritious +food, that in a short time they become extremely fat, and are supposed +by some of our epicures to be equal to the famous Ortolans of Europe. +Their note at this season is a single chuck, and is heard overhead, +with little intermission from morning till night. These are halcyon +days for our gunners of all descriptions, and many a lame and rusty +gun-barrel is put in requisition for the sport. The report of musketry +along the reedy shores of the Delaware and Schuylkill is almost +incessant, resembling a running fire. The markets of Philadelphia, at +this season, exhibit proofs of the prodigious havoc made among these +birds, for almost every stall is ornamented with some hundreds of +Reed Birds. + +The Rice Bunting is seven inches and a half long, and eleven and a +half in extent. His spring dress is as follows: upper part of the +head, wings, tail, and sides of the neck, and whole lower parts, +black; the feathers frequently skirted with brownish-yellow, as he +passes into the color of the female; back of the head, a cream color; +back, black, seamed with brownish-yellow; scapulars, pure white; rump +and tail coverts the same; lower part of the back, bluish-white; tail, +formed like those of the Woodpecker genus, and often used in the same +manner, being thrown in to support it while ascending the stalks of +the reed; this habit of throwing in the tail it retains even in the +cage; legs, a brownish flesh color; hind heel, very long; bill, a +bluish-horn color; eye, hazel. In the month of June this plumage +gradually changes to a brownish-yellow, like that of the female, which +has the back streaked with brownish-black; whole lower parts, +dull-yellow; bill, reddish-flesh color; legs and eyes as in the male. +The young birds retain the dress of the female until early in the +succeeding spring. The plumage of the female undergoes no material +change of color. + +[Illustration: CEDAR BIRD. (_Ampelis Americana._)] + +The Cedar-Bird, (_Ampelis Americana_,) is very frequently shot at the +same time with the Robin. The plumage of this bird is of an +exquisitely fine and silky texture, lying extremely smooth and glossy. +The name Chatterers has been given to them, but they make only a +feeble, lisping sound, chiefly as they rise or alight. On the Blue +Mountains, and other ridges of the Alleghanies, they spend the months +of August and September, feeding on the abundant whortleberries; then +they descend to the lower cultivated parts of the country to feed on +the berries of the sour gum and red cedar. In the fall and beginning +of summer, when fat, they are in high esteem for the table, and great +numbers find purchasers in the market of Philadelphia. They have +derived their name from one kind of their favorite food; from other +sorts they have also been called Cherry Birds, and to some they are +known by the name of Crown Birds. + + + + +REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. + + + _The Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck. Now + first collected. Illustrated with Steel Engravings, + from drawings by American Artists. New York: D. + Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 8vo._ + +This volume is a perfect luxury to the eye, in its typography and +embellishments. The fact of an author's appearance in so rich a dress, +is itself an evidence of his popularity. We have here, for the first +time, a complete edition of the author's poems, tender and humorous, +serious and satirical, in a beautiful form. It contains Alnwick +Castle, Burns, Marco Bozzarris, Red Jacket, A Poet's Daughter, +Connecticut, Wyoming, and other pieces which have passed into the +memory of the nation, together with the delicious poem of Fanny, and +the celebrated Croaker Epistles. The illustrations are all by American +artists, and really embellish the volume. The portrait of Halleck is +exceedingly characteristic of the man, expressing that union of +intellect and fancy, sound sense, and poetic power, which his +productions are so calculated to suggest. His great popularity--a +popularity which has always made the supply of his poems inferior to +the demand--will doubtless send the present magnificent volume through +many editions. + +The poems of Halleck are not only good in themselves, but they give an +impression of greater powers than they embody. They seem to indicate a +large, broad, vigorous mind, of which poetry has been the recreation +rather than the vocation. A brilliant mischievousness, in which the +serious and the ludicrous, the tender and the comic, the practical and +the ideal, are brought rapidly together, is the leading characteristic +of his muse. In almost every poem in his volume, serious, or +semi-serious, the object appears to be the production of striking +effects by violent contrasts. The poet himself rarely seems thoroughly +in earnest, though at the same time he never lacks heartiness. There +are two splendid exceptions to this remark--Burns, and Marco +Bozzarris--poems in which the delicacy and energy of the author's mind +find free expression. They show that if the poet commonly plays with +his subject, it is not from an incapacity to feel and conceive it +vividly, but from a beautiful willfulness of nature, which is +impatient of the control of one idea or emotion. Halleck's perceptions +of the ideal and practical appears equally clear and vivid. His fancy +cannot suggest a poetical view of life, without his wit at the same +time suggesting its prosaic counterpart in society. A mind thus +exquisitely sensitive both to the beautiful and laughable sides of a +subject--looking at life at once with the eye of the poet and the man +of the world--naturally finds delight in a fine mockery of its own +idealisms, and loves to sport with its own high-raised feelings. His +poetry is not, therefore, so much an exhibition of the real nature and +capacity of the man, as of the play and inter-penetration of his +various mental powers, in periods of pleasant relaxation from the +business of life. In a few instances, we think, his humorous insight +has been deceived from the unconscious influence upon his mind of the +sentiment of Byron and Moore. Thus he occasionally falls into the +exaggerations of misanthropy and sentimentality. In his poem entitled +Woman, we are informed that man has no constancy of affection,-- + + His vows are broke, + Even while his parting kiss is warm; + But woman's love all change will mock, + And, like the ivy round the oak, + Cling closest in the storm. + +Here, for the purpose of a vivid contrast, there is a sacrifice of +poetic truth. The same piece closes with asserting that the smiles and +tears of woman, + + Alone keep bright, through Time's long hour, + That frailer thing than leaf or flower, + A poet's immortality. + +Here the thought, redeemed as it is by beautiful expression, is worthy +only of a sentimental poetaster of the Della Cruscan school; and we +can easily imagine what a mocking twinkle would light the eye of its +author, if some one should tell him that Homer, Dante, Shakspeare, and +Milton were "kept bright" by the smiles and tears of woman. These, and +one or two other passages in Halleck, are unworthy of his manly and +cant-hating mind; and it is wonderful how they could have escaped his +brilliant good sense. + +Fanny, and the Croaker Epistles are the most brilliant things of their +kind in American literature, full of wit, fancy, and feeling, and in +all their rapid transitions, characterized by an ethereal lightness of +movement, a glancing felicity of expression, which betray a poet's +plastic touch equally in the sentiment and the merriment. No American +poems have been more eagerly sought after, and more provokingly +concealed, than these. Three editions of Fanny have been published, +but the difficulty of obtaining a copy has always been great. Many who +were smitten with a love for it have been compelled to transcribe it +from the copy of a more fortunate collector. The Croaker Epistles have +been even more cunningly suppressed. Now we have both in a form which +will endure with the stereotype plates. They evince the most brilliant +characteristics of Halleck's genius, and continually suggest the +thought, that if the mind of the author be so powerful and various in +its almost extempore sport and play, it must have still greater +capacity in itself. + +Fanny, and the Croaker Epistles swarm with local and personal +allusions which a New-Yorker alone can fully appreciate. Van Buren, +Webster, Clinton, the politicians and authors generally of the period +when the poems were written, are all touched with a light and graceful +pencil. Fanny is conceived and executed after the manner of Byron's +Beppo and Don Juan. It is full of brilliant rogueries, produced by +bringing sentiment and satire together with a shock. For instance, + + Dear to the exile is his native land, + In memory's twilight beauty seen afar: + Dear to the broker is a note of hand + Collaterally secured--the polar star + Is dear at midnight to the sailor's eyes, + _And dear are Bristed's volumes at half price._ + + The sun is loveliest as he sinks to rest; + The leaves of Autumn smile when fading fast; + The swan's last song is sweetest--and the best + Of Meigs's speeches, doubtless, was his last. + +In a mocking attempt to prove that New York exceeded Greece in the +Fine Arts, we have the following convincing arguments: + + In sculpture we've a grace the Grecian master, + Blushing, had owned his purest model lacks; + We've Mr. Bogart in the best of plaster, + The Witch of Endor in the best of wax, + Beside the head of Franklin on the roof + Of Mr. Lang, both jest and weather-proof. + + * * * * * + +In painting we have Trumbull's proud _chef d'oeuvre_, Blending in one +the funny and the fine; + + His independence will endure forever-- + And so will Mr. Allen's lottery sign; + And all that grace the Academy of Arts, + From Dr. Hosack's face to Bonaparte's. + + In physic, we have Francis and McNeven, + Famed for long heads, short lectures, and long bills; + And Quackenboss, and others, who from heaven + _Were rained upon us in a shower of pills._ + +It would be impossible to give a notion of the genial satire of the +Croakers by extracts. The following, from the epistle to the Recorder, +is unmatched for felicity and exquisite contrast: + + The Cĉsar passed the Rubicon + With helm, and shield, and breast-plate on, + Dashing his war-horse through the waters; + The R*d*r would have built a barge, + Or steamboat, at the city's charge, + And passed it with his wife and daughters. + +In the same piece occurs the following fine tribute to Bryant: + + Bryant, whose songs are thoughts that bless + The heart, its teachers, and its joy, + As mothers blend with their caress + Lessons of truth and gentleness, + And virtue for the listening boy. + Spring's lovelier flowers for many a day + Have blossomed on his wandering way, + Beings of beauty and decay, + They slumber in their autumn tomb; + But those that graced his own Green River, + And wreathed the lattice of his home, + Charmed by his song from mortal doom, + Bloom on, and will bloom on forever. + +Pope has become famous for his divine compliments, but certainly no +poet ever celebrated the genius of another with more felicity and +sweetness than in the above beautiful passage. + +It would be impossible to notice all the striking poems in this +volume--and they are too favorably known to need it. There is one +piece, however, which deserves especial commendation, and its merits +do not appear to have called forth the eulogy which has been +bountifully lavished on many others. We allude to his exquisite +translation from Goethe, on the eighty-third page--the invocation to +the ideal world, which precedes Faust. It is one of the gems of the +volume. + + + _The Poetical Works of Lord Byron. Complete in one + Volume. Collected and Arranged, with Illustrative + Notes. Illustrated by Elegant Steel Engravings. New + York: D. Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 8vo._ + +This edition of Byron might bear the palm from all other American +editions, in respect to its combination of cheapness with elegance, if +it were not the most valuable in point of completeness and +illustrative notes. It is a reprint of Murray's Library edition, and +while executed in a similar style of typography, excells it, if we are +not mistaken, in the number of its embellishments. It contains an +admirable portrait of Byron, a view of Newstead Abbey, and also six +fine steel engravings, executed with great beauty and finish. It is +uniform with the same publisher's library edition of Southey and +Moore, contains eight hundred pages of closely printed matter, and +includes every thing that Byron wrote in verse. It does honor to the +enterprise and taste of the publishers, and will doubtless have a +circulation commensurate with its merits. As long as our American +booksellers evince a disposition to publish classical works in so +beautiful a form, it is a pleasant duty of the press to commend their +editions. We cordially wish success to all speculations which imply a +confidence in the public taste. + +It would be needless here to express any opinion of the intellectual +or moral character of Byron's poems. Everybody's mind is made up on +those points. The present edition is admirably adapted to convey to +the reader Byron's idea of himself, the opinions formed of him by his +contemporaries, and the effect of his several works on the public mind +as they appeared. It contains an immense number of notes by Moore, +Scott, Jeffrey, Campbell, Wilson, Rogers, Heber, Milman, Gifford, +Ellis, Bridges, and others, which will be found extremely useful and +entertaining. Extracts are taken from Byron's own diary, and from the +recorders of his conversations, giving an accurate impression of each +poem, as regards its time and manner of composition, the feelings from +which it sprung, and the opinion he entertained of its reception by +the public. Profuse quotations are made from the first draught of each +poem, showing how some of the most striking ideas were originally +written, and the improvements introduced in their expression by the +author's "sober second thoughts." The opinions expressed of the +various poems by the leading reviews of the time, including the +criticisms of Scott, Jeffrey, Gifford, Heber, and others, are largely +quoted. Added to these are numerous notes, explaining allusions, or +illustrating images which the common reader might be supposed not to +understand. Taken altogether, the edition will enable almost any +person to obtain a clear understanding of Byron and his works, without +any trouble or inconvenience. There is no other edition which can +compare with it in this respect. + +Many of the notes are exceedingly curious, and if not absolutely new, +have been gathered from such a wide variety of sources, as to be novel +to a majority of readers. We have been struck with the impression +which Byron's energy made upon Dr. Parr, the veteran linguist. After +reading the Island, he exclaims--"Byron! the sorcerer! He can do with +me according to his will. If it is to throw me headlong upon a desert +island; if it is to place me on the summit of a dizzy cliff--his power +is the same. I wish he had a friend, or a servant, appointed to the +office of the slave, who was to knock every morning at the +chamber-door of Philip of Macedon, and remind him he was mortal." From +Parr's life we learn that Sardanapalus affected him even more +strongly. "In the course of the evening the doctor cried out, 'Have +you read Sardanapalus?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Right; and you couldn't sleep a +wink after it?' 'No.' 'Right, right--now don't say a word more about +it to-night.' The memory of that fine poem seemed to act like a spell +of horrible fascination upon him." Perhaps from a few anecdotes like +this, we gain a much more vivid impression of the sensation which +Byron's poems excited on their first appearance, and their strong hold +upon the imagination and passions of the public, than we could obtain +from the most elaborate description of their effects. If such was +their power upon an old scholar like Parr, what must have been their +influence upon younger and more inflammable minds? + +The editor's preface to Don Juan is no less valuable than +entertaining. It contains not merely the opinions expressed of the +poem by the reviews and magazines, but those of the newspapers, and +enables us to gather the judgment of the English people upon that +strange combination of sublimity and ribaldry, sentiment and wit, +tenderness and mockery, at the time it first blazed forth from the +press. The suppressed dedication of the poem to Southey is also given +in full, with all its brutal blackguardism and drunken brilliancy. In +truth, the volume conveys an accurate impression of all the sides of +Byron's versatile nature, and from its very completeness is the less +likely to be injurious. There is no edition of his poems which we +could more safely commend to the reader, as it exhibits Byron the +poet, Byron the scoffer, Byron the roué, in his true colors and real +dimensions; and if, after reading it, a person should adopt the old +cant about his brilliant rascalities, and the old drivel about his +sentimental misanthropy, the fault is in the reader rather than the +volume. For our own part we are acquainted with no edition of any +celebrated author, equaling this in the remorselessness with which the +man is stripped of all the factitious coverings of the poet, and +stands out more clearly in his true nature and character. + + + _The Life of Henry the Fourth, King of France and + Navarre. By G. P. R. James. New York: Harper & + Brothers. 2 vols. 12mo._ + +Few kings have been so fortunate as Henry the Fourth in the reputation +and good will they have obtained from the people. By democrats as well +as monarchists his name is held in a kind of loving veneration. Much +of this popularity is doubtless owing to his superiority, in +disposition as well as mind, to the ferocious bigotry of his age, and +to his great edict of toleration which healed for a time the horrible +religious dissensions of France. Apart from his ability, however, his +virtues as a king sprung rather from good-nature and benevolence, than +from moral or religious principle. His toleration was the result of +his indifference as much as his good sense; and he was not a +persecutor, because to him neither Catholicism nor Protestantism was +of sufficient importance to justify persecution. He was a fanatic only +in sensuality; and if he committed crime, it would be rather for a +mistress than a doctrine. The last act of his reign, growing out of +his impatience in having his designs on the Princess of Condé baffled, +showed that lust could urge him into an unjust and unprincipled war, +where religious superstition would have been totally ineffective. + +Mr. James's Life of Henry is a careful compilation from the most +reliable sources of information, and embodies a large amount of +important knowledge. Though far from realizing the higher conditions +of historical art, it is more accurate and spirited than the general +run of historical works. Mr. James's conscience in the matter of the +present book, seems to have been much greater than we might have +expected from the king of book-makers. When his history was ready for +the press, the French Government commenced publishing the "Lettres +Missives" of Henry IV., and Mr. James delayed his book four years, in +order that its facts might be verified or increased by comparison with +that important publication. His work, therefore, is probably the +fullest and most accurate one we possess on the age of which it +treats. It is well worthy of an attentive perusal. It abounds in +incidents and characters which would make the fortune of a novel, and +is an illustration of that kind of truth which is stranger than +fiction. The Harpers have issued the work in a tasteful form. + + + _Artist Life. By H. T. Tuckerman. New York: D. + Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 12mo._ + +Mr. Tuckerman is an author whose productions we have repeatedly had +occasion to notice and to praise. They have always a finished air, +which favorably distinguishes them from many American publications, +the products of mingled talent and haste. Mr Tuckerman does not appear +to rush into print, with unformed ideas hastily clad in a loose +undress of language--as if the palm of excellence were due to the +swiftest runner in the race of expression. His style is clear, +polished, graceful, and harmonious, combining a flowing movement with +condensation, and free from the tricks and charlatanries of diction. +He is not so popular as he would be if he made more noise about his +words and thoughts, and called the attention of the public to every +felicity of his style or reflection by a pugnacious manner, and a +strained expression. Though possessing a singularly rich and +suggestive fancy, and a wide variety of information, his use of +ornament and allusion is characterized by a taste, an appropriateness, +a reserve, which men of smaller stores rarely practice. As a critic, +he is calm, clear, judicious, sympathetic, and making the application +of a principle all the more stringent, from his vivid perception of +the object of his criticism. The present volume is worthy of its +subject, and is more calculated to convey accurate information of the +lives, character, and works of American artists, than any other we +have seen. It is also exceedingly interesting, being full of anecdotes +and biographical memoranda of artists who are commonly known only as +painters, not as men. In this respect the volume contains much +original information, which will be valuable to the future historian +of American art. In his criticism, Mr. Tuckerman evinces knowledge as +well as taste; and by avoiding technical terms, he contrives to render +agreeable and clear what is generally unintelligible to the +uninitiated reader of _critiques_ on paintings. The volume contains, +among other sketches and biographies, very interesting notices of the +lives and works of West, Copley, Stuart, Allston, Morse, Durand, W. E. +West, Sully, Inman, Cole, Weir, Leutze, and Brown. + + + _Appleton's Library Manuel: Containing a Catalogue + Raisonne of upwards of Twelve Thousand of the most + Important Works in Every Department of Knowledge, + in all Modern Languages, New York; D. Appleton & + Co. 1 vol. 8vo._ + +This is one of the most available and valuable bibliographical works +extant. Its object is indicated by its title. Such a book should be in +the possession of every student, scholar, book-collector, and +librarian. There is hardly a subject which can attract the attention +of an inquisitive mind, which is not included in this collection, and +the titles of the best books, in different languages, which relate to +it given in full, with the various editions, and their price. It would +be needless to dilate upon the value of such a work. The compilers +deserve the highest credit for the labor, intelligence, and expense +they have devoted to it. The cost is but one dollar. + + + _Sybil Lennard, a Record of Woman's Life._ + +Mrs. Grey is one of the most popular novel writers of the present day, +and Sybil Lennard is unquestionably the best of her works. It is +published by Mr. T. B. Peterson, by whom the advance sheets were +procured from England. + + + _Chambers' Miscellany._ + +Part No. 5, of Chamber's interesting Miscellany has been published, +and the articles it contains are of the highest order of excellence. +Messrs. Zieber & Co. are the Philadelphia publishers. + + * * * * * + + +POSTHUMOUS WRITINGS OF JOSEPH C. NEAL, ESQ.--We have several admirable +Charcoal Sketches by Mr. Neal--a rich legacy bequeathed expressly to +us by our gifted and lamented friend. Now that the fountain, whose +outpourings have so often enriched our pages, is forever closed, these +gems of genius will have a new and peculiar value. We commence their +publication in our present number. + + * * * * * + +THE NEW YORK MIRROR.--This journal is edited with surpassing ability; +and its continued and advancing popularity is creditable to the taste +of the community in which it is published. Spirited, independent, and +liberal, it not merely, as its name indicates, reflects the light of +the age, but shines with a lustre of its own. It is well worthy its +good fortune. + + +Transcriber's Note: + +Some likely incorrect spellings and probable dialect have been left as +printed, but the following corrections have been made: + +1. page 2--removed extra word 'the' after '...before the windows + lounged...' + +2. page 6--typo 'Jenning' corrected to 'Jennings' + +3. page 9--added missing double quotation mark at start of sentence + 'What do I see! My dearest...' + +4. page 10--added double quotation mark after 'Nonsense--what payment,' + +5. page 10--added double quotation mark at end of paragraph '...and + proceedings commence directly.' + +6. page 18--added double quotation mark missing at start of paragraph + 'Oh I'll soon show you,' + +7. page 23--added missing period in sentence 'our prosodies call + anapoests' + +8. page 28--removed extra 'a' in second line of stanza beginning 'Did he + answer guiltless, lo!' + +9. page 28--typo 'stife' corrected to 'strife' + +10. page 32--added period to sentence '...whither he was going' + +11. page 43--likely missing word 'for' inserted in sentence '...off + the dangers ahead for a single instant.' + +12. page 45--typo 'exhaused' corrected to 'exhausted' + +13. page 46--typo 'minuute' corrected to 'minute' + +14. page 58--typo 'observatious' corrected to 'observations' + +15. page 66--inserted opening quotation mark at assumed start of speech + "We buried her _there_. I say..." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 +January 1848, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE VOL XXXII *** + +***** This file should be named 29187-8.txt or 29187-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/1/8/29187/ + +Produced by David T. Jones, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 January 1848 + +Author: Various + +Editor: George R. Graham + Robert T. Conrad + +Release Date: June 21, 2009 [EBook #29187] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE VOL XXXII *** + + + + +Produced by David T. Jones, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h3>GRAHAM'S</h3> + +<h2>AMERICAN MONTHLY</h2> + +<h1>MAGAZINE</h1> + + +<h5>Of Literature and Art,</h5> + +<h6>EMBELLISHED WITH</h6> + +<h4>MEZZOTINT AND STEEL ENGRAVINGS, MUSIC, ETC.</h4> + +<h5>WILLIAM C. BRYANT, J. FENIMORE COOPER, RICHARD H. DANA, JAMES K. PAULDING, HENRY<br /> +W. LONGFELLOW, N. P. WILLIS, CHARLES F. HOFFMAN, J. R. LOWELL.</h5> + +<h5>MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, MISS C. M. SEDGWICK, MRS. FRANCES S. OSGOOD, MRS. EMMA C.<br /> +EMBURY, MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS, MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY, MRS. A. M. F. ANNAN, ETC.</h5> + +<h5>PRINCIPAL CONTRIBUTORS.</h5> + +<h4>GEORGE R. GRAHAM, AND ROBERT T. CONRAD, EDITORS.</h4> + + +<h2>VOLUME XXXII.</h2> + + +<h4>PHILADELPHIA:<br /> +GEORGE R. GRAHAM & CO. 98 CHESTNUT STREET.</h4> + +<h5>..........</h5> + +<h6>1848.</h6> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<h6>OF THE</h6> + +<h3>THIRTY-SECOND VOLUME.</h3> + +<h5>JANUARY, 1848, TO JUNE, 1848.</h5> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<table summary="volume TOC" width="80%" border="0"> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>A Drama of Real Life.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">N. P. Willis</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">61</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Autumnal Scenery.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Joseph R. Chandler</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">64</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Biographical Sketch of Gen. Wm. O. Butler.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Francis P. Blair</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">49</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Battle of Fort Moultrie.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">C. J. Peterson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">198</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Clara Harland.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">G. G. Foster</span>. (Illustrated.)</td> +<td class="tdr">241</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Cincinnati.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Fayette Robinson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">352</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Captain Samuel Walker.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Fayette Robinson</span>. (With an Engraving.)</td> +<td class="tdr">301</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Dissolving Views.</td> +<td>By F. E. F.</td> +<td class="tdr">172</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Effie Morris.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Enna Duval</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">87</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>First Love.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Enna Duval</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">282</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Game-Birds of America.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Prof. Frost</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">68</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Game-Birds of America.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Prof. Frost</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">185</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Home.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">H. Marion Ward</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">129</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Jacob Jones.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">T. S. Arthur</span></td> +<td class="tdr">193</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Jehoiakim Johnson.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Mary Spencer Pease</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">313</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lace and Diamonds.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Theodore S. Fay</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">1</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Le Petit Soulier.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Ik. Marvel</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">165</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Marginalia.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Edgar A. Poe</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">23</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Mathew Mizzle.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Joseph C. Neal</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">57</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Montezuma Moggs.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Joseph C. Neal</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">116</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Marginalia.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Edgar A. Poe</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">130</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Mrs. Pelby Smith's Select Party.</td> +<td>By Mrs. A. <span class="smcap">M. F. Annan</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">152</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Marginalia.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Edgar A. Poe</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">178</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>My Lady-Help.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Enna Duval</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">180</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Mary Warner.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">E. L. B. Cowdery</span></td> +<td class="tdr">201</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Major-General Worth.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Fayette Robinson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">275</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Power of Beauty, and a Plain Man's Love.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">N. P. Willis</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">99</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Pauline Dumesnil.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Angele De V. Hull</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">121</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Pauline Grey.</td> +<td>By F. E. F.</td> +<td class="tdr">229, 265</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Phantasmagoria.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">John Neal</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">260</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Phantoms All.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Caroline H. Butler</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">304</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Poor Penn—.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Oliver Buckley</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">309</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Stoke Church and Park.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">R. Balmanno</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">73</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Rival Sisters.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry W. Herbert</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">13, 105</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Little Gold-Fish.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">J. K. Paulding</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">31</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Teacher Taught.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Mary S. Adams</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">39</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Islets of the Gulf.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">J. F. Cooper</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">42, 93, 159</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Cruise of the Gentile.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Frank Byrne</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">133, 205</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Little Cap-Maker.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">C. H. Butler</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">221</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Portrait of General Scott.</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">234</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Theresa.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Jane Tayloe Worthington</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">247</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Changed and the Unchanged.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Professor Alden</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">277</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The New England Factory Girl.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Joseph C. Neal</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">287, 343</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Lone Buffalo.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Charles Lanman</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">294</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Fortunes of a Southern Family.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">A New Contributor</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">325</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Double Transformation.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">James K. Paulding</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">350</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Whortleberrying.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Alfred B. Street</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">270</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<br /> + +<h3>POETRY</h3> + +<table summary="Poetry" width="80%" border="0"> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>A Funeral Thought.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">J. Bayard Taylor</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">10</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>An Hour.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">J. Bayard Taylor</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">98</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A Butterfly in the City.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Thomas Buchanan Read</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">104</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A Parting.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry S. Hagert</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">238</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A Vision.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">R. H. Stoddart</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">286</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A Song.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Thomas Buchanan Read</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">311</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Burial of a Volunteer.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Park Benjamin</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">128</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Beauty's Bath. (Illustrated.)</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">131</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Contemplation.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Jane R. Dana</span>. (Illustrated.)</td> +<td class="tdr">190</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>City Life.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Charles W. Baird</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">204</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Coriolanus.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry B. Hirst</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">319</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Cleopatra.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth J. Eames</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">363</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Decay and Rome.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">R. H. Stoddart</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">220</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Elsie.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Kate Dashwood</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Early English Poets.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth J. Eames</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">92</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Early English Poets.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth J. Eames</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">171</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Epitaph on a Restless Lady.</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">179</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Expectation.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Louisa M. Green</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">187</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Eurydice.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Frances S. Osgood</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">274</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Encouragement.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">E. C. Kinney</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">276</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Fair Margaret.</td> +<td>By Wm. <span class="smcap">H. C. Hosmer</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">293</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Homeward Bound.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">E. Curtiss Hine</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">308</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Isola.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">John Tomlin</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">190</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lenovar.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Wm. Gilmore Simms</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">218</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lines to ——</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Caroline F. Orne</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">63</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Love.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">R. H. Stoddard</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">131</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lines to an Ideal.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth L. Linsley</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">151</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lethe.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry B. Hirst</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">179</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lines.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Gretta</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">184</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lennard.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Mary G. Horsford</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">320</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lamartine to Madame Jorelle.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Virginia</span></td> +<td class="tdr">303</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lines to ——,</td> +<td>By W. <span class="smcap">Horry Stilwell</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">349</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Midnight.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Thomas Buchanan Read</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">286</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>No, Not Forgotten.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Earle S. Goodrich</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">228</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>O, Scorn Not Thy Brother.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">E. Curtiss Hine</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">235</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Poetry. A Song.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">George P. Morris</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">66</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Revolution.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Arian</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">292</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Spirit-Yearnings for Love.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">H. Marion Ward</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">12</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sonnet to Graham.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Altus</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">22</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sonnet to S. D. A.</td> +<td>By "<span class="smcap">The Squire</span>,"</td> +<td class="tdr">48</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Shawangunk Mountain.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">A. B. Street</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">59</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sonnet to ——.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Caroline F. Orne</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sunset After Rain.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Alfred B. Street</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">115</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sonnet to Night.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Gretta</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">120</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Spirit-Voices.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Charles W. Baird</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">158</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Song of the Elves.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Anna Blackwell</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">203</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Song for a Sabbath Morning.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">T. B. Read</span></td> +<td class="tdr">204</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sonnets.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">James Lawson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">259</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sonnet.</td> +<td>By C. E. T.</td> +<td class="tdr">269</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Sonnet.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">E. C. Kinney</span></td> +<td class="tdr">281</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Stanzas.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">W. H. Denny</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">293</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Song.</td> +<td>By C. E. T.</td> +<td class="tdr">342</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Memorial Tree.</td> +<td>By W. <span class="smcap">Gilmore Simms</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">11</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Rainbow.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Lydia H. Sigourney</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">12</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Penance of Roland.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry B. Hirst</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">25</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Sea-Nymphs Song.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">W. H. C. Hosmer</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">30</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Vesper Bell.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Park Benjamin</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">38</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Sunbeam.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Mary E. Lee</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">41</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Land of Dreams.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Wm. C. Bryant,</span></td> +<td class="tdr">48</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Mourner.</td> +<td>By Dr. <span class="smcap">John D. Godman</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Saw-Mill.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Wm. C. Bryant</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">86</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Portrait.</td> +<td>By R. T. <span class="smcap">Conrad</span>. (Illustrated.)</td> +<td class="tdr">92</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Lost Pleiad.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry B. Hirst</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">115</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Bride's Confession.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Alice G. Lee</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">120</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Hermit of Niagara.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Lydia H. Sigourney</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">127</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Bridal Morning. (Illustrated.)</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">128</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Alchemist's Daughter.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">T. B. Read</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">148</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Belle.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Mary L. Lawson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">164</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Voice of the Fire.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">J. B. Taylor</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">177</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Triumphs of Peace.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Wm. H. C. Hosmer</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">187</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>To My Wife.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Robt. T. Conrad</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">198</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Darling.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Blanche Bennairde</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">197</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Poet's Love.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry B. Hirst</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">200</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>To the Author of "The Raven."</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Miss Harriet B. Winslow</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">203</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Fire of Drift-Wood.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Henry W. Longfellow</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">204</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Last of His Race.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">S. Dryden Phelps</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">220</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Sailor-Lover to His Mistress.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">R. H. Bacon</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">233</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Spirit of Song.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">E. C. Kinney</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">238</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Ancient and the Modern Muse.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Lyman Long</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">246</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Oak-Tree.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Park Benjamin</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">264</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Voice of the Night Wind.</td> +<td>By E. <span class="smcap">Curtiss Hine</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">274</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Dayspring.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Samuel D. Patterson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">281</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Adopted Child.</td> +<td>By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Frances B. M. Brotherson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">295</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Pole's Farewell.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Wm. H. C. Hosmer</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">324</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Real and the Ideal.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Marion H. Rand</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">341</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Human Voice.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Geo. P. Morris</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">341</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Enchanted Isle.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Lydia J. Peirson</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">311</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Continents.</td> +<td>By J. <span class="smcap">Bayard Taylor</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">312</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Venice as It Was and as It Is.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Professor Goodrich</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">342</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>White Creek.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">Alfred B. Street</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">147</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Years Ago.</td> +<td>By <span class="smcap">George P. Morris</span>,</td> +<td class="tdr">190</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<h3>REVIEWS.</h3> +<table summary="Reviews" width="80%" border="0"> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>The Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">70</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Poetical Works of Lord Byron,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">71</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Life of Henry the Fourth, King of France and Navarre. By G. P. R James,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">72</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Artist Life. By H. T. Tuckerman,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">72</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Poems of Early and After Years. By N. P. Willis,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">132</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Practical Physiology. By Edward Jarvis,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">191</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Fruits and Fruit Trees of America. By A. J. <span class="smcap">Downing</span>,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">191</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Historical and Select Memoirs of the Empress Josephine. By M'<sup>lle.</sup> M. A. Le Normand,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">239</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Memoir of Sarah B. Judson. By "Fanny Forester,"</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">248</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The History of a Penitent. By George W. Bethune, D. D.</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">240</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Keble's Christian Year,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">240</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Edith Kinnaird. By the Author of "The Maiden Aunt,"</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">298</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Jane Eyre. An Autobiography,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">299</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Princess. By Alfred Tennyson,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">300</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Origin, Progress and Conclusion of the Florida War. By John T. Sprague,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">300</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>The Poetical Works of John Milton,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">300</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>An Universal History of the Most Remarkable Events of All</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">354</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Nations, from the Earliest Period to the Present Time,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Lectures on Shakspeare. By H. N. Hudson,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">354</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Military Heroes of the Revolution. By C. J. Peterson,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">356</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Old Hicks, the Guide. By C. W. Webber,</td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">356</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + + +<h3>MUSIC.</h3> +<table summary="Music" width="80%" border="0"> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>Woman's Love.</td> +<td>Poetry by Anon. Music by Mathias Keller,</td> +<td class="tdr">1</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Ben Bolt.</td> +<td>The Words and Melody by Thomas Dunn English,</td> +<td class="tdr">236</td> +</tr> +<tr><td>When Shall I See the Object that I Love.</td> +<td>A favorite Swiss Air. Music by J. B. Müller,</td> +<td class="tdr">296</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<h3>ENGRAVINGS.</h3> + +<table summary="Engravings" width="80%" border="0"> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>Innocence,</td> +<td>engraved by W. E. Tucker.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>General Butler,</td> +<td>engraved by Thomas B. Welsh.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A Portrait,</td> +<td>engraved by Ross.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Beauty's Bath,</td> +<td>engraved by Sartain.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Paris Fashions,</td> +<td>from Le Follet.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Bridal Morning,</td> +<td>engraved by A. B. Ross.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Expectation,</td> +<td>engraved by J. Addison.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Contemplation,</td> +<td>engraved by Addison.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Paris Fashions,</td> +<td>from Le Follet.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Gen. Winfield Scott,</td> +<td>engraved by Thos. B. Welsh.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Pauline Grey,</td> +<td>engraved by J. B. Adams.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Paris Fashions,</td> +<td>from Le Follet.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>General Worth,</td> +<td>engraved by Sartain.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Clara Harland,</td> +<td>engraved by Addison.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Paris Fashions,</td> +<td>from Le Follet.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Captain Walker,</td> +<td>engraved by A. B. Walter.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Cincinnati,</td> +<td>engraved by J. W. Steel.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td>Paris Fashions,</td> +<td>from Le Follet.</td> +<td class="tdr"> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + + +<h2>TABLE OF CONTENTS—ISSUE #1</h2> +<table summary="TOC" width="80%" border="0"> +<tr><td><a href="#LACE_AND_DIAMONDS">LACE AND DIAMONDS.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Theodore S. Fay</span></td> +<td class="tdr">1</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#A_FUNERAL_THOUGHT">A FUNERAL THOUGHT.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">J. Bayard Taylor</span></td> +<td class="tdr">10</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_MEMORIAL_TREE">THE MEMORIAL TREE.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Wm. Gilmore Simms</span></td> +<td class="tdr">11</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_RAINBOW">THE RAINBOW.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lydia H. Sigourney</span></td> +<td class="tdr">12</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SPIRIT-YEARNINGS_FOR_LOVE">SPIRIT-YEARNINGS FOR LOVE.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Mrs. H. Marion Ward</span></td> +<td class="tdr">12</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_RIVAL_SISTERS">THE RIVAL SISTERS.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Henry William Herbert</span></td> +<td class="tdr">13</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SONNET_TO_GRAHAM">SONNET TO GRAHAM.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Altus</span></td> +<td class="tdr">22</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#MARGINALIA">MARGINALIA.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Edgar A. Poe</span></td> +<td class="tdr">23</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_PENANCE_OF_ROLAND">THE PENANCE OF ROLAND.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Henry B. Hirst</span></td> +<td class="tdr">25</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_SEA_NYMPHS_SONG">THE SEA-NYMPH'S SONG.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">William H. C. Hosmer</span></td> +<td class="tdr">30</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_LITTLE_GOLD-FISH">THE LITTLE GOLD-FISH.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">James K. Paulding</span></td> +<td class="tdr">31</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_VESPER_BELL">THE VESPER BELL.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Park Benjamin</span></td> +<td class="tdr">38</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_TEACHER_TAUGHT">THE TEACHER TAUGHT.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Mary S. Adams</span></td> +<td class="tdr">39</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_SUNBEAM">THE SUNBEAM.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Mary S. Lee</span></td> +<td class="tdr">41</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_ISLETS_OF_THE_GULF">THE ISLETS OF THE GULF.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">J. Fenimore Cooper</span></td> +<td class="tdr">42</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_LAND_OF_DREAMS">THE LAND OF DREAMS.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">William C. Bryant</span></td> +<td class="tdr">48</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SONNET_TO_S_D_A">SONNET—TO S. D. A..</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">"the Squire"</span></td> +<td class="tdr">42</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#BIOGRAPHICAL_SKETCH">BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF GENERAL WILLIAM O. BUTLER.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Francis T. Blair</span></td> +<td class="tdr">42</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#MATHEW_MIZZLE">MATTHEW MIZZLE OF THE INQUIRING MIND.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">The Late Joseph C. Neal</span></td> +<td class="tdr">57</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SHAWANGUNK_MOUNTAIN">SHAWANGUNK MOUNTAIN.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Alfred B. Street</span></td> +<td class="tdr">59</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#INNOCENCE">INNOCENCE.</a></td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">60</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#A_DRAMA_OF_REAL_LIFE">A DRAMA OF REAL LIFE.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">N. P. Willis</span></td> +<td class="tdr">61</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#LINES_TO_mdash">LINES TO ——.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Caroline T. Orne</span></td> +<td class="tdr">63</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#AUTUMNAL_SCENERY">AUTUMNAL SCENERY.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Joseph R. Chandler</span></td> +<td class="tdr">64</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#POETRY_A_SONG">POETRY.——A SONG.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">George P. Morris</span></td> +<td class="tdr">66</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_MOURNER">THE MOURNER.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">The Late Dr. John D. Godman</span></td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#ELSIE">ELSIE.</a></td> +<td><span class="smcap">Kate Dashwood</span></td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SONNET_TO_mdash">SONNET TO ——.</a></td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#GAME-BIRDS_OF_AMERICA_NO_VIII">GAME-BIRDS OF AMERICA.—NO. VIII.</a></td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">68</td> +</tr> +<tr><td><a href="#REVIEW_OF_NEW_BOOKS">REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.</a></td> +<td> </td> +<td class="tdr">70</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE.</h1> +<br /> +<table summary="banner" width="100%" border="0"> +<tr><td>VOL. XXXII.</td> +<td class="tdc">PHILADELPHIA, JANUARY, 1848.</td> +<td class="tdr">No. 1.</td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class="full" /> +<br /><br /> + +<h2><a name="LACE_AND_DIAMONDS" id="LACE_AND_DIAMONDS"></a>LACE AND DIAMONDS.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> +<h3>OR TAKE CARE WHAT YOU DO.</h3> + +<h4>BY THEODORE S. FAY.</h4> + + +<p>"Don't be angry, ma'ma—I wont jest any more, +if it displease you, but I will make a plain confession."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Clifford, "let me hear it."</p> + +<p>"I have not one feeling which I wish to conceal +from you. There have been moments when I liked +Mr. Franklin," and a pretty color crossed her cheek, +"but I have been struck with a peculiarity which +has chilled warmer sentiments. He appears phlegmatic +and cold. There is about him a perpetual repose +that seems inconsistent with energy and feeling. +I am not satisfied that I could be happy with such a +person—not certain that he is capable of loving, or +of inspiring love. When I marry any one, he must +worship, he must adore me. He must be ready to +go crazy for me. Let him be full of faults, but let +him have—what so few possess—a warm, unselfish +heart."</p> + +<p>"I have heard you, through," said Mrs. Clifford, +"now you must hear me. It is very proper that you +should not decide without full consideration. Examine +as long as you think necessary the qualities of +Mr. Franklin, and never marry him till he inspire +you with confidence and affection. But remember +something is due also to him; and the divine rule of +acting toward others as you wish them to act toward +you, must be applied here, as in every affair in life. +While you should not, I allow, be hurried into a +decision, yet your mind once made up, he should not +be kept a moment in suspense."</p> + +<p>"Do you think, ma'ma," asked Caroline, "that he +has much feeling?"</p> + +<p>"I think he has. I think him peculiarly gifted +with unselfish ardor. That which appears to you +coldness, is, in my opinion, the natural reserve of a +warm heart—so modest that it rather retires from +observation than parades itself before the world. +Sentiment and fire, when common on the lips, are not +more likely to be native to the soul. It is precisely +that calm, that repose you allude to, which forms, in +my judgment, the guarantee of Mr. Franklin's sincerity, +and the finishing grace of his character—a +character in all other respects, also, a true and +noble one."</p> + +<p>Caroline did not listen without interest.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford was a native of New York, and had +come over just a year ago to enjoy a tour in Europe. +Franklin had been a fellow-passenger; and a sort of +intimacy had grown up between the young people, +which the gentleman had taken rather <i>au serieux</i>. He +had gladly availed himself of an accidental business +necessity which called the son and proposed traveling +companion of Mrs. Clifford suddenly home, to +join her little party, and had accompanied them +through Italy, France, Germany, Belgium, and +Holland. The result was, that the happiness of his +life now appeared to depend upon an affirmative +monosyllable in reply to the offer he had just made +of his heart and hand. Mrs. Clifford was the widow +of a captain in the American navy, who had left her +only a moderate income—sufficient, but no more, +for the wants of herself and daughter. Mr. Franklin +was a lawyer of six-and-twenty, who had been +advised to repair the effects of too severe professional +application, by change of air, and a year's +idleness and travel.</p> + +<p>The conversation was scarcely finished, when the +subject of it was announced.</p> + +<p>After the usual salutations, Mr. Franklin said he +had come, according to appointment, to accompany +the ladies on a walk, and to see the lions of London, +where they had arrived some days before. In a +few minutes, hats, shawls, and gloves, being duly +put in requisition, they had left their lodgings in +Grosvenor Street, Grosvenor Square, and were +wending their way toward Regent Street and the +Strand, through the crowds of this wonderful and +magnificent metropolis, of which every thing was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +a delightful curiosity, and where, amid the millions +around, they knew and were known by scarcely a +human creature.</p> + +<p>Every stranger, newly arrived and walking about +London, has noted the effect of this prodigious town +upon him; and how singularly he is lost in its immensity, +overwhelmed by its grandeur, and bewildered +amid its endless multiplicity of attractions. So it +was with our little party. Excited by the thousand +novel and dazzling objects, the hours fleeted away +like minutes; and it was late before they had executed +or even formed any plans.</p> + +<p>"Let us at least go somewhere," said Caroline. +"Let us go to St. Paul's, or Westminster Abbey, or +the Tower; and we have, beside, purchases to make—for +ladies, you know, Mr. Franklin, have always +shopping to do."</p> + +<p>"Well, as it is so late," said Mrs. Clifford, "and +we have promised to call on Mrs. Porter at half past +two, I propose to leave the lions for another morning, +and only enjoy our walk to-day."</p> + +<p>"Then, ma'ma, let us go to that splendid shop, and +look at the lace once more. Only think, Mr. +Franklin, we yesterday saw lace, not broader than +this, and I had a half fancy to buy some for a new +dress—and what do you suppose it cost?"</p> + +<p>"I am little versed," said Franklin, "in such +mysteries—five pounds, perhaps—"</p> + +<p>"Twelve pounds—twelve pounds and a half sterling—sixty +American dollars. I never saw any thing +so superb. Ma'ma says I ought not even to look at +such a luxury."</p> + +<p>"But is lace really such a luxury?" inquired +Franklin, smiling.</p> + +<p>"You can have no idea how exquisite this is!"</p> + +<p>"As for me," rejoined Franklin, "I can never tell +whether a lady's lace is worth twelve pounds or +twelve cents. Although, I hope, not insensible to +the general effect of a toilette, yet lace and diamonds, +and all that sort of thing, are lost upon me entirely."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you barbarian!"</p> + +<p>"Real beauty was never heightened by such ornaments, +and ugliness is invariably rendered more conspicuous +and ugly."</p> + +<p>"You will not find many ladies," said Mrs. Clifford +"to agree with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! How often do we hear of belles, as +distinguished for the simplicity of their toilette, as for +the beauty of their persons. How often in real life, +and how frequently in novels. There you read that, +while the other ladies are shining in satin and lace, +and blazing in diamonds, the real rose of the evening +eclipses them all in a plain dress of white, without +jewels, like some modest flower, unconscious of her +charms, and therefore attracting more attention."</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare," said Mrs. Clifford, smiling, +"it is just as you say!"</p> + +<p>"And what does Miss Caroline think of my attack +on lace and diamonds?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said Caroline, laughing, "since you do +me the honor to require my opinion, I will give it +you. I agree that such pretending ornaments ill +become the old and ugly. There you are right. I +agree that the extremely beautiful may also dispense +with them. These ball-room belles of yours—these +real roses of the evening—are, I suspect, so lovely +as to make them exceptions to the general rule. +But there is a class of young ladies, among whom I +place myself, neither so old and ugly as to make +ornament ridiculous, nor so beautiful as to render it +unnecessary. To this middle class, a bit of lace—a +neat tab—a string of pearls here and there—a pretty +worked cape—or a coronet of diamonds, I assure you, +do no harm."</p> + +<p>"That you are not so ugly as to render ornament +ridiculous," replied Franklin, "I allow; but that +there is, in your case, any want of lovelines to require—to +render—which—"</p> + +<p>"Take care, Mr. Franklin!" interrupted Caroline, +mischievously, "you are steering right upon the +rocks; and a gentleman who refuses all decoration +to a lady's toilette, should not embellish his own +conversation with flattery."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word," replied he, in a lower voice, +"to whatever class you belong, Miss Clifford, you +do yourself injustice if you suppose lace and diamonds +can add to the power of your beauty, any +more than the greatest splendor of fortune could increase +the charms of your—"</p> + +<p>"Ma'ma," exclaimed Caroline, "we have passed +the lace shop."</p> + +<p>"So we have," said Mrs. Clifford; "but why +should we go back—you certainly don't mean to +buy any—?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'ma; but I want some edging, and I +might as well get it here, if only to enjoy another +look at the forbidden fruit."</p> + +<p>The shop was one of those magnificent establishments +of late years common in large metropolises. +A long hall led from the street quite back through +the building, or rather masses of buildings, to another +equally elegant entrance on the parallel street behind. +The doors were single sheets of heavy plate-glass. +In the windows all the glittering and precious +treasures of India and Asia seemed draped in gorgeous +confusion, and blazed also through unbroken +expanses of limpid glass of yet larger dimensions +than the doors. Silks, laces, Cashmere shawls, +damask, heavy and sumptuous velvets of bright +colors, and fit for a queen's train, muslins of bewildering +beauty, dresses at £200 a piece, and handkerchiefs +of Manilla of almost fabulous value. The +interior presented similar displays on all sides, multiplied +by reflections from broad mirrors, gleaming +among marble columns. Perhaps those numerous +mirrors were intended to neutralize the somewhat +gloomy effect of the low ceiling, not sufficiently +elevated to admit the necessary light into the central +spaces. At various points, even in the day-time, +gas-lights burned brilliantly. Before the door were +drawn up half a dozen elegant coroneted equipages, +the well-groomed, shining horses, and richly-liveried +coachmen, indicating the rank of the noble owners; +and on the benches before the windows lounged +the tall and handsome footmen, with their long gold-headed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +sticks, powdered heads, gaudy coats, brightcolored +plush breeches, and white silk stockings, +and gloves.</p> + +<p>In the shop there were, perhaps, fifty persons, as +it happened to be a remarkably fine day in June—one +of those grateful gifts from heaven to earth which +lure people irresistibly out of the dark and weary +home, and which, when first occurring, after a long +and dismal winter, as in the present instance, appear +to empty into the sunshiny streets, every inhabitant, +the sick and the well, the lame and the blind alike, +from every house in town.</p> + +<p>Caroline asked to be shown some of the lace which +she had looked at the day before. It was produced, +and Mrs. Clifford and Franklin were called to examine +it. The wonder consisted as much in the endless +variety of the patterns, as in the exquisite fineness +and richness of the material. The counter was soon +strewn with the airy treasures, one piece after another, +unrolled with rapidity, appeared to make a +lively impression on the young girl, who at last, +with a sigh, apologized to the polite person patiently +waiting the end of an examination which his practiced +eye had, doubtless, perceived was only one of +vain curiosity.</p> + +<p>"It is too dear," said Caroline, "I cannot afford it. +Pray let me see some narrow edging."</p> + +<p>"That lace is very pretty," remarked a lady of a +commanding figure, evidently a person of rank.</p> + +<p>"Very pretty, my lady," replied the clerk who +had waited on Caroline.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Twelve and a half, my lady."</p> + +<p>"It is really pretty—give me twenty yards."</p> + +<p>"Very good, my lady."</p> + +<p>The article was measured and cut almost as soon +as ordered, and the remnant rewound into a small +parcel and thrown upon the counter.</p> + +<p>At the same moment, and as a boy handed Caroline +the edging, wrapped in paper, for which she +had already paid, and which she took mechanically, +she heard one of the bystanders whisper to another: +"The Countess D——!" (one of the most celebrated +women of England.)</p> + +<p>"Ma'ma," said Caroline, "did you observe that +lady?"</p> + +<p>And they left the shop.</p> + +<p>"Bless me!" said Mrs. Clifford, looking at her +watch, "do you know how late it is? Half past two. +We promised to be at Mrs. Porter's at this very +time. She said, you remember, she was going out +at four; and it will take us, I'm afraid, nearly an hour +to get there."</p> + +<p>"Then let us make haste, ma'ma!"</p> + +<p>And with a very rapid pace they hurried back toward +Regent Street and Portland Place. They had gone +on in this way, perhaps, twenty minutes, when a +white-headed, respectable-looking old gentleman +was thrust aside by a rude fellow pushing by, so +that he ran against Caroline, and caused her to drop +her pocket-handkerchief. He stopped, with evident +marks of mortification, and picked it up, with a +polite apology. Caroline assured him she was not +hurt.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear young lady," said the benevolent-looking +old gentleman, "let me return your parcel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is not mine," replied Caroline.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, it fell with your handkerchief."</p> + +<p>"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed Caroline, "what +have I done! I have brought away a piece of that +lace! Ma'ma, let us go back directly."</p> + +<p>Although the incident had occupied but a minute, +Mrs. Clifford and Franklin, engaged in conversation, +had not perceived it, and had gone several paces on. +The old gentleman smiled, bowed, and disappeared +around a corner.</p> + +<p>At this moment a man stepped up, and laying his +hand roughly on Caroline's arm, said,</p> + +<p>"Young woman, you must come with me!"</p> + +<p>And a second iron-hand grasped her other arm.</p> + +<p>Shocked and affrighted, she saw they were +policemen.</p> + +<p>Then the voice of a person very much out of +breath, cried,</p> + +<p>"This is the one!—I can swear to her! And +look!—there is the very lace in her hand!"</p> + +<p>Pale as death, bewildered with terror, the poor +girl could only attempt to say, "Ma'ma! ma'ma!" +but her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth, and +her voice refused its office. A crowd had already +collected, and the words, "Lady been a stealing!" +and, "They've nabbed a thief!" were audible +enough.</p> + +<p>"Come, my beauty!" said the man, pulling her +forward, "we've no time to lose."</p> + +<p>"Scoundrel!" cried the voice of Franklin, as he +grasped him by the throat, "who are you?"</p> + +<p>"You see who we are;" was the stern reply; +"we're policemen, in the execution of our duty. +Take your band off my throat."</p> + +<p>Franklin recognized their uniform, and relaxed +his hold.</p> + +<p>"Policemen! and what have policemen to do +with this lady? You have made some stupid +blunder. This is a lady. She is under my protection. +Take your hand off her arm!"</p> + +<p>"If she's under your protection, the best thing +you can do is to accompany us," replied the man, +bluntly; and he made another attempt to drag her +away.</p> + +<p>Franklin restrained himself with an effort which +did him honor, conscious that violence would be +here out of place, and perceiving that it would be +utterly useless. He strove a moment to collect his +thoughts as one stunned by a thunderbolt.</p> + +<p>""What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"If you ask for information," remarked the man. +impressed by his agonized astonishment, "I will +tell you; but wont the young woman get into a +hack, out of the crowd?"</p> + +<p>An empty carriage happened to be passing, into +which, like a man in a dream, Franklin handed the +ladies. One police officer entered with them—the +other took his seat on the box with the coachman. +Caroline, although still colorless, had partly regained +her courage, and endeavored to smile. Mrs. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +Clifford, in a most distressing state of agitation, +only found breath to say, "Well, this is a pretty +adventure, upon my word!"</p> + +<p>As the carriage moved away, followed by a troop +of ragamuffins, leaping, laughing, and shouting, +Franklin said,</p> + +<p>"And now, my good fellow, I have submitted +peaceably to this atrocious outrage, tell me by +whose authority you act, and in what way this +young lady has exposed herself to such an infamous +insult?"</p> + +<p>"Well, in the first place," said the man, coolly, +"I act by the authority of the Messieurs Blake, +Blanchard & Co.; and in the second place, the young +lady has exposed herself to such an infamous insult +by stealing ten yards of Brussels' lace, at £12 +a yard, value £120 sterling."</p> + +<p>"Scoundrel!" exclaimed Franklin, again grasping +his collar.</p> + +<p>"Hollo! hollo! hollo!" cried the man—hands off, +my cove! and keep a civil tongue in your head, +you'd best. It aint of no use, I give you my word +of honor."</p> + +<p>"Miss Clifford—"</p> + +<p>But Miss Clifford had covered her face with her +white hands, which did not conceal her still whiter +complexion.</p> + +<p>"Why, look ye, sir,", said the man, "if you +really aint a party to the offence, I'm very sorry +for you. The business is just this here. The shop +of Blake, Blanchard & Co., has been frequently +robbed, and sometimes by ladies. I was called, not +four mouths ago, to take a real lady to prison, who +had stole to the amount of £10. And to prison she +went, too, though some of the most respectable +people in town came down and begged for her. +Now this here young lady came yesterday to the +shop of Blake, Blanchard & Co.—tumbled every +thing upside down, and bought nothing—went away—to-day +came again—asked to see the most valuable +lace—bought ten shillings' worth of narrow +edging, and left the premises. At her departure +she was seen to take ten yards of lace—value, +£120. I was called in, and followed her, with one +of the clerks, to identify her person. We perceived +her walking fast—very fast, indeed. It was as +much as we could do to overtake her. The clerk +can swear to her identity—and the lace was found +in her hand. Both the young man and myself can +swear to it, if she denies it—though I caution you, +Miss, not to say any thing at present, because it +can be used against you at your trial."</p> + +<p>"I do not deny it," said Caroline, with flashing +eyes. "I took the lace, but did not know I took it."</p> + +<p>"Oh! ho-ho!" said the man. "I hope you can +make 'em believe that. Perhaps you can."</p> + +<p>"My dear friend," cried Mrs. Clifford, now nearly +beside herself, "I assure you, this is a frightful +mistake. She carried the lace away from mere +carelessness. Here is all the money I have about +me. Take it for yourself, only let us go. My +daughter, I assure you, is utterly incapable of stealing. +You don't know her. As for the lace, I am +willing to pay for it. My name is Mrs. Clifford. I +live No. —— Grosvenor Street, Grosvenor Square. +My dear, kind, good sir, turn the carriage and let us +go home. My husband was Captain Clifford, of the +American navy. Do you think we would be guilty +of stealing? I will give you any money you desire. +I will give you £50—only let us go."</p> + +<p>"If your husband was Admiral Nelson himself," +replied the man, with dignity, "I could not let you +go now—not if you were to give me £500. I have +only to do my duty. It's a very painful one—but +it must be done. I aint a judge. I'm a policeman; +and my business is to deliver you safe into the hands +of Blake, Blanchard & Co."</p> + +<p>To describe the whirl of thoughts which swept +through the mind of Franklin during the interval +would be impossible. He saw that a simple act of +carelessness had been committed by Caroline; but +he was enough of a lawyer to perceive that the +proof against her was singularly striking and unanswerable—and +he knew the world too well, not +to feel extraordinary alarm at the possible consequences. +In London, alone, without friends or acquaintances, +a glance into the future almost drove him to +distraction. At moments he was half mastered +by the impulse to bear Caroline away, by a +sudden <i>coup de main</i>; but his hand was held by the +reflection, that even were such a wild scheme possible, +success would be no means of security, +inasmuch as Mrs. Clifford had given her address; +while the attempt would exasperate the other party, +appear but a new evidence of guilt, and in every +way enhance the danger of their position.</p> + +<p>As they approached the fatal shop, a large crowd +had collected around the door. Franklin felt that +he was in one of those crises on which hang human +destiny and life, and that he had need of more prudence +and wisdom than man can possess, except it +be given him from above. Deep, therefore, and +trusting, was his silent prayer to Him who hath +said, "<i>Be strong and of a good courage. I will +not fail thee, nor forsake thee.</i>"</p> + +<p>Caroline appeared ready to sink into the earth +when the carriage stopped.</p> + +<p>"My dearest Miss Clifford," said Franklin, "these +men have fallen into a bungling error, and it will +require some prudence on our part to make them +see it. But compose yourself. Put down your +veil; say nothing till I call you—and may God, in +his mercy, grant that our ordeal be short!"</p> + +<p>These words were uttered with a composure and +cheerful presence of mind which reassured in some +degree the fainting girl. She had at her side a protector +who would never desert her—a pilot with a +strong arm, a steady eye, and a bold heart—who +would steer her through the wild storm, if any +human being could.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford, speechless with terror, let down her +daughter's veil as well as her shaking hands permitted, +and was led by Franklin from the carriage into +the house. He then handed, or rather lifted, out +Caroline, who clung to him with helplessness and +terror. The trembling party—a hundred unfeeling +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +eyes bent upon them—were conducted through the +shop to a back parlor, into the presence of Mr. Jennings, +the only one of the firm of Blake, Blanchard +& Co. who happened to be at home. As Franklin +saw him his heart sank in his bosom, and the courage +which had begun to mount with the danger, seemed +a mockery.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jennings was a respectable looking man of +forty, of a thin, hard countenance, repelling manners, +and sharp voice, which, when excited, rose to +a piercing and discordant note. There was no sign +of mercy or moderation in his physiognomy. This +man, who, after faithful subordinate services, had +become the inferior and hardest working partner, +happened to be afflicted with a very violent temper, +which had been wrought into a rage by various recent +purloinings, apparently like the present, attributed +to female customers, and perpetrated with a +combined cunning and daring which baffled detection, +and he had long yearned to lay his hand upon +one of them. His passions and interests were mingled +together in this desire, which, in addition, he +supposed fully sanctioned by duty; and when a +man, and particularly such a man, of a narrow mind +and cold heart—loving power, and rarely enabled +to taste its sweets, once gets into his head the idea +that he is acting from duty—God help the poor victim +that falls within his grasp.</p> + +<p>Such was the individual before whom, in the attitude +of a detected criminal, was dragged the sweet +and trembling girl. Such was the man before whom +Franklin stood, curbing within the limits of prudence +his high wrought feelings.</p> + +<p>"Now, my honest women," said Jennings, seating +himself magisterially in a large arm-chair by a +table, while the rest stood in a circle around, like +prisoners at a bar before their judge, "what have +you to say with regard to the atrocious act of +felony—"</p> + +<p>"One moment, sir," said Franklin. "You will +have the kindness to order chairs for those ladies."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jennings paused, fixed a surprised glance at +the speaker, and obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Well then, <i>now</i>—" demanded he.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon!" again interrupted Franklin, +"permit me, in your own interest, to make another +suggestion. Before you proceed in this examination, +I warn you, with all deference to the sincerity +of your present error, that you have before you two +ladies of respectability, and unblemished reputation, +and who are entirely innocent in this matter."</p> + +<p>"Bah!" ejaculated Mr. Jennings.</p> + +<p>"Silence, sir," cried Franklin, with an indignation +irrepressible. "You have dragged before you +through the streets of London, a young and innocent +girl, like a criminal. If circumstances seem +for a moment to give you the right, humanity, as +well as decency requires, at least till the question +of her guilt be settled, that you address her with respect, +and hear her defence with candor and +attention."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jennings turned pale, swallowed his rage, +and replied: "Speak, sir! speak, sir! I am all +candor and attention."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," resumed Franklin, "if I +have answered with too much asperity. But this +young lady is perfectly innocent. She has high +friends. You will consider her under the protection +of the American Ambassador at this Court! State +to me, if you please, your reasons for dragging her +before you in the custody of policemen."</p> + +<p>Awed by Franklin's tone, but rather infuriated +than melted, Mr. Jennings answered with sarcastic +politeness—</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir, your request is a just one. The +case is this. The young lady came to my shop this +morning, and had brought out for her examination +the most expensive lace, of which, however, she +purchased none, but, instead, expended ten shillings +for some narrow edging. I must inform you that +persons in the dress of ladies, and even persons in +the rank of ladies, have more than once committed +thefts of this kind, and I have ordered one of the +young men to watch. This individual saw in a +mirror the young lady, as she was about to leave, +seize a parcel of lace, and carry it out under cover +of her pocket-handkerchief. We sent directly for +policemen—but so rapid was the flight of the party, +including yourself, that it was not without considerable +difficulty and delay that they were overtaken, +when the stolen lace was found in her hand. We +are often obliged to forego the gratification of +punishing such misdemeanors by the technical difficulty +of proving the crime upon the criminal. You +perceive how the present case stands. I am willing +to allow it is but fair you should be heard, if you +have any thing to say in reply."</p> + +<p>"I have much to say," resumed Franklin, smiling +with assumed confidence, "enough to satisfy any +reasonable man, and I hope I stand before such a +one. That the young lady took the lace no one can +deny. But I will tell you how she took it. For the +first time in London, her mind naturally excited, +she was bewildered amid the novel and interesting +objects around her. The splendor of your establishment +dazzled her eyes and distracted her attention. +In company with her mother and myself she came +here to see the lace in question, but she could not +have intended to steal it, if I must answer to such +a charge, because it would have been impossible +for her to use such an article without the knowledge +of her mother. If she is a thief her mother and I +share her guilt. I therefore repeat to you that these +ladies can command references to raise them above +the slightest breath of suspicion—references sufficient +to satisfy the most incredulous—the most unreasonable. +She is a person of the purest life and +strongest principles. Not one of her friends, and, +after a proper examination, not one of the public, +will ever believe her guilty of any thing worse than +a mere moment of bewilderment and absence of +mind."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, sir," said Mr. Jennings, "you +have undertaken a pretty difficult task—no less than +to convince me that black is white, and that two and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +two don't make four. Who are you?—and where +are your references?"</p> + +<p>Franklin did not succeed in concealing a certain +trepidation at this blunt demand, and it was not lost +upon Jennings.</p> + +<p>"My references do not reside in England."</p> + +<p>"Ah! ha!"</p> + +<p>"I am a stranger in your metropolis."</p> + +<p>"Oh! ho!"</p> + +<p>"And therefore," added Franklin, "every noble-minded +and fair-play loving Englishman will say, +possessing greater claim upon your moderation. I +can bring you, from my own country—through the +official intervention of the American Minister, references +to outweigh a thousand fold—ten million +fold—all opposite appearances. I can give a moral +demonstration that the intentional commission by +this young lady of the act with which she is +charged, is an utter, and a ridiculous impossibility."</p> + +<p>"I have now heard you," said Jennings, "and I +am sorry to say, I must, notwithstanding, send the +lady before a magistrate. The ingenious arguments +you have used are equally applicable to every theft. +No reference—no rank—no character can weigh +against so plain a fact, proved by ocular demonstration. +No rational judge or jury can doubt she +<i>stole</i> the lace. It is my duty to make an example +of her. This is not the first, nor the second time, +we have been robbed by ladies in affluent circumstances, +and respectably connected. It is a peculiar +crime, and generally committed in a way which +renders it both difficult and dangerous, even when +we know the criminal, to attempt to fix the fact +upon her. This time we have caught her in the +very <i>act</i>. We have eye-witnesses enough to render +doubt impossible. She does not deny it. She +fled with precipitation. She was overtaken a long +distance off—nearly half an hour after the offence—the +lace was found in her hand—and her companion +tried to bribe the policeman with £50 to let +her escape. And do you now talk to me of 'respectability,' +and 'connections,' and such nonsense? +I would go as far as you or any man to +save an innocent person from destruction. But +when once convinced, by my own eyes, of deliberate +guilt, it is too late for mercy. The ignorant +beggar, who steals to save himself from starving, I +could pity—I could almost release; but when the +rich and the educated resort to stealing, to gratify +their vanity and avarice, hoping to shelter themselves +from punishment by their 'connections,' +and their high position in society—they must +be taught, sir, that they do it at a fearful peril, and +that detection will bring down upon them the same +vulgar and rigorous penalties as if they were the +lowest dregs of the people."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you perfectly," replied Franklin, +with forced composure, although the plain picture +appalled him, and robbed his countenance of every +trace of color, "but permit me to remark that you +must be quite sure the person before you belongs to +this guilty class. Her innocence can be rendered +morally certain. The whole world will brand as +cruel injustice any harsh treatment. A careless +girl has been absent-minded. All people are liable +to be so. You look for your spectacles when they +are on your nose—or seek your pocket-handkerchief, +and find it in your hand—"</p> + +<p>"Our opinions differ on that point," said Mr. +Jennings coldly, "and a jury must decide between +us. Policemen, take the party before the magistrate. +I will follow with my witnesses, and I pledge +myself to visit so heinous a crime with the utmost +rigor of the law."</p> + +<p>The policemen stepped to the side of Caroline.</p> + +<p>"I appeal to your generosity—to your mercy," +cried Franklin, "that she may at least be taken to +the American Minister, instead of being dragged +before a magistrate. I request only that you act +with gentleness."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jennings pointed the policemen to the door.</p> + +<p>"And I not only request, I demand it!" cried +Franklin. "If you refuse me, you refuse me at +your peril—"</p> + +<p>"You have nothing to command here, sir," replied +Mr. Jennings. "The American Minister can +make his statement before the magistrate. I am not +disposed to exercise the least mercy. Policemen, +your duty. If her fate be a terrible one, she has +herself to thank for it. I hope it may deter others +from following her example."</p> + +<p>"And what will be my daughter's fate?" asked +the unsteady voice of Mrs. Clifford.</p> + +<p>"Transportation for life," was the reply.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford shrieked. Caroline rose wildly and +staggered toward the door. Mr. Jennings, as if +thirsting for her destruction, and fearing her escape, +seized her so roughly that she screamed with pain +and terror, when Franklin dragged him back and +hurled him to the wall. His impulse was to strike +him to the earth, but with one of the highest qualities +attained by man, self-government, he recollected +himself and refrained.</p> + +<p>"Policemen," shouted Mr. Jennings, very white, +"I command you to take the whole party into custody. +You witnessed the assault. I am in danger +of my life. They are a gang of thieves and cut-throats. +Off with them this instant."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" cried Franklin, and there was something +in his voice which arrested the step of the policemen, +and <i>compelled</i> Jennings to stand in breathless +attention. "I demand the presence of one or both +of your partners, before the young lady be removed. +You will not, because you <i>dare</i> not, refuse me this +reasonable request. If you do, sir, it were better +you never had been born. Guilty, or not guilty, the +person whom, before she has been tried, your infamous +lips have branded as a common thief, has a +right to all mild and gentle treatment, consistent +with law and justice. You say the jury will decide. +But the question is now whether your house is prepared +to send her before a jury. That is the question +to be discussed, and you are not in a temper of +mind, sir, to enable you to decide it impartially. +The affair will ring from one end of England and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +the United States to the other, and the execrations +of thousands, who have as yet never heard of you, +will fall upon your name. You will find that there +are two sides to the question. You will find that +if the lady has a malignant accuser she has also indignant +and powerful defenders. The world will +say you might have been excusable not to release +her, but you had no right to hurry her before the +public with needless and brutal precipitation. They +will say—and I will take care to tell them—that, +overcome by your violent temper, you insulted—you +<i>assaulted</i>—a helpless young girl in your power, +whose guilt had not been proved, and that, because +I dragged you back—blind with wrath, and burning +with revenge—you dared to take upon yourself, +alone, the whole responsibility of this outrage, +which will bring punishment on you, and disgrace +on your house. They will say let no lady hereafter +trust herself across the threshold of Blake, Blanchard +& Co., where the watch is set and the trap laid for +the unwary. They will say that Mr. Jennings is a +foul calumniator of woman as a sex—that he has +charged the noble ladies of England with crime. +They will judge whether the young girl could be +guilty without the participation of her mother and +myself, who, as you say, fled with her. The case +is one of mere carelessness, or we are three thieves. +Go on, if you dare, without your partners. Your +house, will become infamous, and you—yourself—mark +me, sir, shall not escape the chastisement you +deserve!"</p> + +<p>He ceased, and the silence remained for a while +unbroken.</p> + +<p>This appeal was not, on the part of Franklin, the +mere result of passion and despair, although from +both it received a strange power. It was a wise +calculation that Jennings, who could not be reasoned +or melted, might be terrified from his purpose, till +the arrival of his partners, before whom the matter +might take a different turn. By a happy inspiration +Franklin had read the man aright, and he saw +changes of countenance, as he proceeded, which +gave boldness to his heart and fire to his lips. Jennings +was a coward. He was terror-struck at the +idea of acting on his "sole responsibility," in an +affair which seemed likely to be so hotly contested. +The blood curdled in his veins at the thought of the +deadly enemies, darkly hinted at, and the consequences +clearly threatened. He saw Caroline was +no common thief, and Franklin no common man. +There were moments when he actually believed the +fact really was as Franklin represented—and, thus +quailing under the torrent of eloquence to which the +voice and manner gave something absolutely irresistible, +half suffocated with rage and fear, he said +with ill assumed indifference:</p> + +<p>"Oh! very well, sir, very well. I will wait for +my partners. Nothing shall be done rashly. Nothing +from revenge. But the young lady shall not +escape. Mr. Williams, go and see if Mr. Blake or +Mr. Blanchard have come in."</p> + +<p>And thus at least more time was gained.</p> + +<p>Mr. Williams went out, and returned to say that +Mr. Blake had not yet come in, but Mr. Blanchard +had, and would join them immediately.</p> + +<p>The door opened and the person in question entered. +He was a young man of thirty, of unusually +prepossessing exterior. A stream of hope shot +through Franklin's heart as he read his face.</p> + +<p>Mr. Blanchard seated himself gravely in the large +chair which was abdicated in his favor by Jennings, +who related to him the facts, respectfully and clearly, +and called up the policemen and Mr. Williams in +confirmation.</p> + +<p>"It is a bad case," said Mr. Blanchard. "Our +duty is clear. Is there any thing said in the defence?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, there is a powerful defence!" replied +Mr. Jennings, with a sneer, "the young lady took +the lace, and kept it half an hour, running away as +fast as she could, but she <i>but she didn't know she +had it</i>!! ha! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Blanchard shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Sir, may I speak?" said Franklin.</p> + +<p>"Speak," returned Mr. Blanchard, in a low voice. +"If you have any thing to say I will hear it with +the sincerest desire to find it of weight. But you +have a difficult task before you. These occasions +are extremely painful. The necessity of sending to +prison a respectable young lady, as you represent +this person to be, is harrowing indeed; but private +feelings must give way to higher considerations. I +have a duty to perform—a duty to society—a duty +to my partners—a duty to God!"</p> + +<p>"You have," rejoined Franklin, "but if you properly +examine your conscience, and ask light of +Him who knows the truth, you will hear the voice +of God himself, warning you not to perform that +duty prematurely, carelessly, or cruelly. I ask +time. I offer references to prove that the person in +question, from education, character, habits, opinions, +religious principles, and her whole, pure and artless +life, is not, and could not be intentionally guilty of +the act in question. I request time to produce these +references. My young companion took the lace in +a moment of bewilderment—of absence of mind. +She has just arrived in London—is dazzled and excited. +If, sir, you have a sister, a daughter, a mother, +a wife, picture her—after such a careless accident—grasped +by a policeman, dragged through the +streets, exposed to the eyes of the jesting crowd—the +blackest construction put upon her action, shrinking +before a magistrate, cast into prison, and, God +knows what else!—and all because of an act, not in +reality more inexplicable than that of a man who +walks off with a hat not his own, or another person's +umbrella—in a fit of forgetfulness."</p> + +<p>Jennings leaned over and whispered something to +Mr. Blanchard.</p> + +<p>"It is quite probable," said Mr. Blanchard, "that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +you believe her innocent, but the various and glaring +circumstances do not permit me to be of your opinion. +The expressive flight, the intervening time, +long enough to discover a mistake merely accidental—the +bribe of £50—no—no—it is impossible," said +he, rising, "I am sorry for you, sir, but this matter +rests no longer with me. The prisoner must be removed."</p> + +<p>"What I ask," said Franklin, "is not her release. +It is only time to make you acquainted with the +proofs of which the case is susceptible. The 'prisoner,' +as you call her, is as innocent as the snow +yet unfallen from heaven. I do not ask you to sacrifice +what you fancy your duty, I ask you only to +pause ere you execute it. I request you ere you +thrust a shrinking girl, as a suspected thief, before +the public, that you more carefully examine her side +of the question. Her bankers, the Messrs. Baring, +will answer for her presence whenever you desire. +My banker will answer for her. The American +Minister will satisfy you of the strong impropriety +of any other proceeding. Oh! sir, in the name of a +mother's breaking heart—in the name of sweet +girlish innocence—in the name of God, believe +what I say! If you err, err on the side of mercy. +Think, when you lay your head this night on your +pillow, the day has not been lost, for it was marked +by an act of mercy. Think, when on your death-bed, +you plead at the throne of God, He has said, +'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive +mercy.' If she really had committed the offence, I +should not fear to ask you for mercy on her young +head—her inexperienced life. Our Divine Master +granted mercy even to the guilty. Will you refuse +it then to this trembling and innocent girl, for whose +guileless intention, in this terrible accident, I answer +before man and God, and with my life and soul. +Come here, Miss Clifford! Take off your veil. Tell +Mr. Blanchard, in the simple language of truth, how +this incident took place."</p> + +<p>"Yes, come here, my young friend," said Mr. +Blanchard, "and tell me how this sad mistake +arose."</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was Franklin's eloquence—perhaps it +was Caroline's appearance—perhaps it was both, +which drew the silent tear from Mr. Blanchard's +eyes, and those two significant words from his lips. +But oh! to Franklin's soul, wrought up almost to +despair—almost, to madness—they were rapture, +they were ecstasy, they were like the first streak of +golden sky which announces to the half-wrecked +sailor that the tempest is over.</p> + +<p>"Speak, my dear young lady," said Mr. Blanchard, +"do not tremble so! you have nothing to fear +from me!"</p> + +<p>"I left the door," said Caroline, in a low voice, +"without knowing I had the lace. A gentleman +ran against me and knocked it out of my hand. He +picked it up. I then saw what I had done. I exclaimed, +'ma'ma, let us go back!'—but ma'ma had +gone on—I was alone—two men seized me—and—and—"</p> + +<p>She covered her face with her hands, and sunk +into the chair.</p> + +<p>"But, so far from coming back," said Mr. Jennings' +piercing voice, "you were walking rapidly +away."</p> + +<p>"No," said Caroline.</p> + +<p>"But I say yes!" screamed Jennings. "Mr. +Williams, was not the young woman walking rapidly +away?"</p> + +<p>"She <i>had been</i> walking rapidly," said Mr. Williams, +"but when we came up she was, as she says, +standing still, looking at the lace. It is also true that +an old gentleman ran against her, knocked the lace +out of her hand, and picked it up again. That I saw +from the distance."</p> + +<p>"Mark you!" exclaimed Franklin, "how each +small feature of her story is confirmed."</p> + +<p>"But you left our door," exclaimed Mr. Jennings, +"at a furious pace."</p> + +<p>"That I can explain to your satisfaction," said +Franklin. "We were engaged to call upon a lady, +Mrs. Porter, No. ——, Portland-Place, at half past +two. This Mrs. Porter herself can testify. We left +your door too late, and walked rapidly to keep our +appointment. You can ascertain from your clerks +at what hour we left."</p> + +<p>"It was just half past two," said Mr. Williams. +"I looked at the clock."</p> + +<p>"Mark!" cried Franklin, with an air of triumph.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, Mr. Jennings," said Mr. Blanchard, +"we have been too hasty—"</p> + +<p>At this moment the door opened, and another +person entered.</p> + +<p>"Just in time," muttered Mr. Jennings.</p> + +<p>It was Mr. Blake, chief partner in the firm of +Blake, Blanchard & Co. He was a venerable old +gentleman, of an agreeable person, with a certain +dignity which well became his snow-white hair, but +through which, on the present occasion, appeared +a settled firmness, almost a sternness, boding no +good.</p> + +<p>"You have come in time," said Jennings. "Do +you know what is going on here?"</p> + +<p>"I do. The facts have been related to me."</p> + +<p>"And the famous defence?" added Jennings, +with one of his worst sneers, "do you know that +also?"</p> + +<p>"I do. It is a clear case. There is but one +course for us."</p> + +<p>"And yet," cried Jennings, "Mr. Blanchard has +been thinking it will not do to send so respectable +a young lady to prison. But I say you will not +have a case in forty years so proper to make a +wholesome example of. If you let this one go, +whom can you punish? Precautions were useless, +if thieves can commit their depredations under our +very noses with impunity."</p> + +<p>"I am of your opinion,"said Mr. Blake. "The +offence is of a very aggravated description; and I +deem it absolutely necessary to send the delinquent +before a magistrate to be punished as she deserves."</p> + +<p>"I have explained—" said Franklin.</p> + +<p>But while he commenced once more his agonizing +task, Mr. Jennings took Mr. Blake aside, and +whispered to him some minutes vehemently. +Franklin attempted to speak again.</p> + +<p>"I will hear no explanation," said the old gentleman. +"No argument—no character—no references +can prevail against so wicked a felony so clearly +proved. The youth, condition in life, and education +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +of the person, only render the crime more +detestable, and the necessity for a terrible example +more unavoidable. Your own good sense should +have taught you, sir, that threats are here out of +place, and violence can only make matters worse. +I have solemnly vowed that I would meet the next +case with the utmost rigor of the law. I am determined +to prosecute. Where is the prisoner? +Policemen, take her into custody."</p> + +<p>"But," cried Franklin.</p> + +<p>"I will hear no more," said Mr. Blake, coldly +and firmly. "Mr. Jennings, who has gone over +the case with the most attention, is thoroughly convinced—"</p> + +<p>"Thoroughly!" said Mr. Jennings.</p> + +<p>"Policemen—"</p> + +<p>Franklin's brain whirled in wild despair. He +clasped his hands—he conjured the mild, mistaken +man, whose slightest word could save Caroline +from destruction.</p> + +<p>"Mercy! I ask only one day."</p> + +<p>"Young man, you plead in vain! Ask mercy of +God, but not of me."</p> + +<p>"Then listen, heart of stone!" cried Franklin, "and +hear my final words. You are old. Your head is +white; your feet are already in the grave. You will, +ere long, be called before your Maker—yourself a +trembling suppliant for mercy. If, with cold-blooded, +stupid obstinacy, in the face of my warning, you +drag this innocent and modest girl, prematurely, +into a police office—at a bar for criminals—to stand +a spectacle for the public, amid robbers, and murderers, +and to run the fearful chances of the law, I +solemnly warn you, old man, you will have innocent +blood on your conscience—you will call down +God's curse upon your head."</p> + +<p>"What can I do?" said Mr. Blake, overwhelmed +by his irresistible earnestness.</p> + +<p>"You can do unto others, as you would have them +do unto you—you can give us time for proof, and +yourself for reflection. You can suppose it was +your own daughter in her place. You can examine +more carefully. You can break from the leading-strings +of that malignant Mr. Jennings. You can +consult with Mr. Blanchard, a man of reason and +feeling, who disapproves your severity. You can +wait to satisfy yourself that this young lady is distinguished +for a stainless character, a pure life, strict +religious principles, humble faith in God, and habitual +communion with him. You can judge for yourself +whether this is a case of <i>monomania</i>—whether +a person thus distinguished, could be guilty of intentional +purloining. Sir, ocular demonstration +weighs <i>nothing</i> against such a character. You can +ask yourself more dispassionately whether it be not +a possibility—a very natural one—for an absent-minded +person to commit such an act mechanically +and unconsciously. You can hear her artless story +from her own lips, and candidly consider if it <i>may +not</i> be the truth."</p> + +<p>Carried away by Franklin's eloquent vehemence, +Mr. Blake did look. Caroline had risen. The last +spark of earthly hope had fled. She stood, without +gesture or tear. It seemed as if death had already +laid his icy hand upon her, only her eyes were lifted +above, while she breathed a silent prayer to Him +whose mighty hand can raise the trusting heart, in +one instant, from the lowest depths of despair.</p> + +<p>"Ha! What! God bless my soul!" suddenly ejaculated +the old gentleman, in great astonishment. +"What do I see! My dearest, sweetest young lady! +Mr. Blanchard! Mr. Jennings! Mr. Williams—"</p> + +<p>Caroline gazed at him a moment—uttered a shriek +which thrilled to every heart with an electric shock, +cried, "Oh, sir, save me—<i>you</i> can save me!" and +fell insensible into the arms of Franklin.</p> + +<p>"Policemen!—off with you!" cried Mr. Blake, +with tears in his eyes. "Mr. Jennings, you are a +fool! I answer with my life for this young lady. I +ran against her in the street. I picked up the lace, +and saw her look of astonishment and horror; and +heard her exclaim, "<i>ma'ma! let us go back directly!</i>" +Go, proclaim to every one in the establishment +that she is innocent. We are the guilty party—and +we are at <i>her</i> mercy!"</p> + +<p>To terminate the exciting scene, Franklin proposed +to return home. A carriage was called. +Caroline had revived, and her feelings, fortunately, +found vent in tears. She wept bitterly on her +mother's bosom, who gave it back with interest. +But in the midst of their joy, not one of the three +forgot to offer up their secret, thankful prayer, to +that overruling Providence, whose watchful mercy +had rescued them from a fate too horrible for +imagination.</p> + +<p>Franklin could scarcely wait till they walked to +the carriage. He wished to carry—to drag Caroline +away. He shifted his position continually, without +apparent cause; at last shook hands with his companions, +saying he would follow the carriage, as he +wanted air and exercise.</p> + +<p>They soon arrived home, where Caroline, in a +high state of excitement, was ordered to bed by a +physician; but, after soothing medicines had calmed +certain hysterical symptoms, she fell into a deep +sleep, which the doctor said was worth more than +all the apothecaries could compound. In fact, she +did not wake till late next morning, and in a day or +two was comparatively restored.</p> + +<p>But poor Franklin had gone home in a raging +fever, which increased during the night to delirium. +His ravings were of magistrates, the jeering crowd, +dungeons, chains, and the convict-ship. Then he +was at the penal settlement. He heard the frightful +oaths, obscene jests, and blasphemous laughter of +the convicts. Among them he beheld Caroline +Clifford—haggard, and in rags—now toiling at her +task, now shrieking beneath the bloody lash—and +he seemed to grasp the throat of Jennings, and implored +him to stay his hellish hand.</p> + +<p>More than a month passed before he was sufficiently +recovered to leave his room. Every day +Mrs. Clifford had visited him, and watched over +him with a mother's love. Every day the carriage +of Mr. Blake brought the old gentleman to the bed-side +of the poor invalid, where he listened to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +ravings of his disturbed imagination, and shuddered +to think of what horrors—but for a providential +coincidence—he might have added to the history of +human wo.</p> + +<p>At length Mr. Franklin was allowed to take a +drive. It is scarcely necessary to say that he called +on the ladies. Mrs. Clifford, previously apprized of +his intended visit, at the sound of the bell, accidentally +remembered that she had left her scissors +up stairs. So Franklin found Caroline alone.</p> + +<p>"You are very, very pale," cried the greatly +agitated girl, her eyes filling with good, honest +tears, as she gave him her hand.</p> + +<p>He raised it to his lips.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Miss Clifford."</p> + +<p>But, like Beatrice, she seemed to hold it there +again with a fervor which even the modest Franklin +could not wholly misunderstand.</p> + +<p>"I owe you more than my life," cried Caroline, +with such a look as she had never bestowed upon +him before.</p> + +<p>"And yet," cried Franklin, "you fraudulently withhold +from me the only payment in your power."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense—what payment," cried she, blushing +deeply.</p> + +<p>"Your dear self!" answered Franklin, in a +timid voice.</p> + +<p>"Then you must collect your debt, as other hard-hearted +creditors do—by force."</p> + +<p>"In that case," rejoined Franklin, with a boldness +which astonished himself, "an execution must issue, +and proceedings commence directly."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford, having found her scissors, just then +entered the room, but not before the ardent lawyer +had performed the threatened duty—not quite so +harrowing a one as that attempted by Mr. Jennings, +though it led to the same result, viz., she was obviously +<i>transported</i>, and, as it turned out—-<i>for life</i>.</p> + +<p>Nor is this all.</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Blake had learned how the land lay from +Mrs. Clifford, and he resolved to make the young +people reparation. He owed it to them in all conscience. +They were married in about six weeks; +and when the ceremony was over, a parcel was +brought in, directed "<i>To Mrs. Franklin, with the +compliments of Messrs. Blake, Blanchard & Co.,</i>" +which, on being opened, was found to contain a +superb Cashmere shawl—thirty yards of the £12 +lace, and a neat mahogany box, with a coronet of +diamonds for the young criminal.</p> + +<p>We wont go into the history of the ladies' objections +to accepting these costly testimonials. Mr. +Blake pleaded almost as eloquently as Franklin had +done, till at last Franklin "put his foot down," as +I recommend all young husbands to do on such occasions, +and showed Mr. Blake who was master.</p> + +<p>Nor was this all either.</p> + +<p>A number of years afterward, when Mr. and Mrs. +Franklin had returned to New York, and while the +fond wife and happy mother was one day profoundly +engaged in arranging a highly ornamented +and curious little cap, her husband entered with a +letter, and read as follows:</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">To Mrs. Caroline Franklin.</span></p> + +<p class="rt"><i>London, Feb</i>. 10, 184-.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madam,</span>—It has become my duty to inform you, +that, by the will of the late Mr. Blake, of the firm of +Blake, Blanchard & Co., you have become entitled +to his blessing, and a legacy of £2500 sterling, which, +upon proving your identity, you can either draw +for on me, at thirty days, or have remitted in any +other way you desire.</p> + +<p>I have the honor to be, madam, very respectfully, +your obedient servant,</p> + +<p><span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 24em;">John Lockley</span>,</p> + +<p class="rt">Solicitor, No. —— Russel Square.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_FUNERAL_THOUGHT" id="A_FUNERAL_THOUGHT"></a>A FUNERAL THOUGHT.</h2> + +<h4>BY J. BAYARD TAYLOR.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +When the pale Genius, to whose hollow tramp<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Echo the startled chambers of the soul,</span><br /> +Waves his inverted torch o'er that wan camp<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where the archangel's marshaling trumpets roll,</span><br /> +I would not meet him in the chamber dim,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hushed, and o'erburthened with a nameless fear,</span><br /> +When the breath flutters, and the senses swim,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the dread hour is near!</span><br /> +<br /> +Though Love's dear arms might clasp me fondly then,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As if to keep the Summoner at bay,</span><br /> +And woman's wo and the calm grief of men<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hallow at last the still, unbreathing clay—</span><br /> +These are Earth's fetters, and the soul would shrink,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thus bound, from Darkness and the dread Unknown,</span><br /> +Stretching its arms from Death's eternal brink,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which it must dare alone!</span><br /> +<br /> +But in the awful silence of the sky,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Upon some mountain summit, never trod</span><br /> +Through the bright ether would I climb, to die<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Afar from mortals, and alone with God!</span><br /> +To the pure keeping of the stainless air<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would I resign my feeble, failing breath,</span><br /> +And with the rapture of an answered prayer<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Welcome the kiss of Death!</span><br /> +<br /> +The soul, which wrestled with that doom of pain,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Prometheus-like, its lingering portion here,</span><br /> +Would there forget the vulture and the chain,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And leap to freedom from its mountain-bier!</span><br /> +All that it ever knew, of noble thought,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would guide it upward to the glorious track,</span><br /> +Nor the keen pangs by parting anguish wrought,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Turn its bright glances back!</span><br /> +<br /> +Then to the elements my frame would turn;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No worms should riot on my coffined clay,</span><br /> +But the cold limbs, from that sepulchral urn,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the slow storms of ages waste away!</span><br /> +Loud winds, and thunder's diapason high,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Should be my requiem through the coming time,</span><br /> +And the white summit, fading in the sky,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My monument sublime!</span><br /> +</div> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MEMORIAL_TREE" id="THE_MEMORIAL_TREE"></a>THE MEMORIAL TREE.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +<h4>BY WM. GILMORE SIMMS, AUTHOR OF "THE YEMASSE," "RICHARD HURDIS," ETC.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Great trees that o'er us grow—</span><br /> +Green leaves that gather round them—the fresh hues,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That tell of fruit, and blossoms yet to blow,</span><br /> +Opening fond bosoms to the embracing dews;<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">These, now so bright,</span><br /> +That deck the slopes about thy childhood's home,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And seem, in long duration, to thy sight,</span><br /> +As they had promise of perpetual bloom;<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">So linked with all</span><br /> +The first dear throbs of feeling in thy heart,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When, at the dawn of summer and of fall,</span><br /> +Thou weptst the leaf that must so soon depart!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">What had all these,</span><br /> +Of frail, deciduous nature, to persuade,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Howe'er their sweets might charm, and beauty please,</span><br /> +The memories that their own could never aid?<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">They kept no tale—</span><br /> +No solemn history of the fruitful hour;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lover's promise, the beloved one's wail—</span><br /> +To wake the dead leaf in each lonely bower!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">The autumn breath</span><br /> +O'erthrew each frail memorial of their past;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And every token was resigned to death,</span><br /> +In the first summons of the northern blast.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">They nourished naught</span><br /> +That to the chain of moral being binds<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The recollections of the once gay spot,</span><br /> +And its sweet offices, to future minds.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Thou may'st repair—</span><br /> +Thou, who hast loved in summer-eve to glide<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With her whom thou hast still beheld as fair,</span><br /> +When she no longer wandered by thy side.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And thou wilt weep</span><br /> +Each altered aspect of that happiest home,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which saw the joys its memories could not keep,</span><br /> +Save by the sympathy which shares their doom.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Thus Ruin stands</span><br /> +For Ruin—and the wreck of favorite things,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To him who o'er the waste but wrings his hands,</span><br /> +Proofs of the <i>fall</i>, and not the spring-time brings.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ah! who will weep,</span><br /> +In after seasons, when thou too art gone,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Within this grot, where shadowy memories keep</span><br /> +Their watch above the realm they keep alone?<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Who will lament,</span><br /> +In fruitless tears, that she the dear one died,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And thy surviving heart, in languishment,</span><br /> +Soon sought the grave and withered at her side?<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A newer bright</span><br /> +Makes young the woods—and bowers that not to thee<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brought fruit or blossom, triumph in the sight</span><br /> +Of those who naught but fruit and blossom see;<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">To whom no voice</span><br /> +Whispers, that through the loved one's would the root<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of that exulting shrub, with happiest choice,</span><br /> +Has gone, with none its passage to dispute.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">While thine own heart,</span><br /> +In neighboring hillock, conscious, it may be—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Quivers to see the fibres rend and part</span><br /> +The fair white breast which was so dear to thee.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Of all the past,</span><br /> +That precious history of thy love and youth,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When not a cloud thy happy dawn o'ercast,</span><br /> +When all thou felt'st was joy, thou saw'st was truth;<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">These have no speech</span><br /> +For idiot seasons that still come and go—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To whom the heart no offices can teach,</span><br /> +Vainer than breezes that at midnight blow!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And yet there seem</span><br /> +Memorials still in nature, which are taught,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Unless all pleasant fancies be a dream,</span><br /> +To bring our sweetest histories back to thought.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A famous tree</span><br /> +Was this, three hundred years ago, when stood<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The hunter-chief below it, bold and free,</span><br /> +Proud in his painted pomp and deeds of blood.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">By hunger taught,</span><br /> +He gathered the brown acorn in its shade,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And ere he slept, still gazing upward, caught</span><br /> +Sweet glimpses of the night, in stars arrayed.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">His hatchet sunk</span><br /> +With sharp wound, fixing his own favorite sign,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Deep in the living column of its trunk,</span><br /> +Where thou may'st read a history such as thine.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">He, too, could feel</span><br /> +Such passion as awakes the noble soul—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And in fond hour, perchance, would hither steal,</span><br /> +With one, of all his tribe, who could his ire control.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And others signs,</span><br /> +Tokens of races, greatlier taught, that came<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To write like record, though in smoother lines,</span><br /> +And thus declare a still more human flame.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Here love's caprice—</span><br /> +The hope, the doubt, the dear despondencies—-<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Joy that had never rest, hope without peace—</span><br /> +These each declared the grief he never flies.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And the great oak</span><br /> +Grew sacred to each separate pilgrimage,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor heeded, in his bulk, the sudden stroke</span><br /> +That scarred his giant trunk with seams of age.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And we who gaze</span><br /> +Upon each, rude memorial—letter and date—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Still undefaced by storm and length of days,</span><br /> +Stand, as beneath the shadow of a fate!<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> + +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Some elder-born,</span><br /> +A sire of wood and vale, guardian and king<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of separate races, unsubdued, unshorn,</span><br /> +Whose memories grasp the lives of every meaner thing!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">With great white beard</span><br /> +Far streaming with a prophet-like display,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such as when Moses on the Mount appeared,</span><br /> +And prostrate tribes looked down, or looked away!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">With outstretched arms,</span><br /> +Paternal, as if blessing—with a grace,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such as, in strength and greatness, ever charms,</span><br /> +As wooing the subdued one to embrace!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Thus still it stood,</span><br /> +While the broad forests, 'neath the pioneer,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Perished—proud relic of the ancient wood—</span><br /> +Men loved the record-tree, and bade them spare!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And still at noon,</span><br /> +Repairing to its shadow, they explore<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its chronicles, still musing o'er th' unknown,</span><br /> +And telling well-known histories, told of yore!<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">We shall leave ours,</span><br /> +Dear heart! and when our sleep beneath its boughs<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall suffer spring to spread o'er us her flowers,</span><br /> +Eyes that vow love like ours shall trace our vows.<br /></div> +<br /><br /> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_RAINBOW" id="THE_RAINBOW"></a>THE RAINBOW.</h2> + +<h4>BY MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Mountain! that first received the foot of man—<br /> +Giving him shelter, when the shoreless flood<br /> +Went surging by, that whelmed a buried world—<br /> +I see thee in thy lonely grandeur rise—<br /> +I see the white-haired Patriarch, as he knelt<br /> +Beside his earthen altar, 'mid his sons,<br /> +While beat in praise the only pulse of life<br /> +Upon this buried planet,—<br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">O'er the gorged</span><br /> +And furrowed soil, swept forth a numerous train,<br /> +Horned, or cloven-footed, fierce, or tame,<br /> +While, mixed with song, the sound of countless wings,<br /> +His rescued prisoners, fanned the ambient air.<br /> +<br /> +The sun drew near his setting, clothed in gold,<br /> +But on the Patriarch, ere from prayer he rose,<br /> +A darkly-cinctured cloud chill tears had wept,<br /> +And rain-drops lay upon his silver hairs.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then burst an arch of wondrous radiance forth,</span><br /> +Spanning the vaulted skies. Its mystic scroll<br /> +Proclaimed the amnesty that pitying Heaven<br /> +Granted to earth, all desolate and void.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh signet-ring, with which the Almighty sealed</span><br /> +His treaty with the remnant of the clay<br /> +That shrank before him, to remotest time<br /> +Stamp wisdom on the souls that turn to thee.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Unswerving teacher, who four thousand years</span><br /> +Hast ne'er withheld thy lesson, but unfurled<br /> +As shower and sunbeam bade, thy glorious scroll,—<br /> +Oft, 'mid the summer's day, I musing sit<br /> +At my lone casement, to be taught of thee.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Born of the tear-drop and the smile, methinks,</span><br /> +Thou hast affinity with man, for such<br /> +His elements, and pilgrimage below.<br /> +Our span of strength and beauty fades like thine,<br /> +Yet stays its fabric on eternal truth<br /> +And boundless mercy.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">The wild floods may come—</span><br /> +The everlasting fountains burst their bounds—<br /> +The exploring dove without a leaf return—<br /> +Yea, the fires glow that melt the solid rock,<br /> +And earth be wrecked: <i>What then?</i>—be still, my soul,<br /> +Enter thine Ark—God's promise cannot fail—<br /> +For surely as yon rainbow tints the cloud,<br /> +His truth, thine Ararat, will shelter thee.<br /></div> +<br /><br /> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SPIRIT-YEARNINGS_FOR_LOVE" id="SPIRIT-YEARNINGS_FOR_LOVE"></a>SPIRIT-YEARNINGS FOR LOVE.</h2> + +<h4>BY MRS. H. MARION WARD.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Love me, darling, love me, for my wild and wayward heart,<br /> +Like Noah's dove in search of rest, will hover where thou art;<br /> +Will linger round thee, like a spell, till by thy hand caressed,<br /> +It folds its weary, care-worn wings, to nestle on thy breast.<br /> +<br /> +Love me, darling, love me! When my soul was sick with strife,<br /> +Thy soothing words have been the sun that warmed it into life;<br /> +Thy breath called forth the passion-flowers, that slumbered 'neath the ice<br /> +Of self-distrust, and now their balm makes earth a <i>Paradise</i>.<br /> +<br /> +Love me, darling, love me! Let thy dreams be all of <i>me</i>!<br /> +Let waking thoughts be round my path, as mine will cling to thee!<br /> +But if—oh, God! it cannot be—but if thou <i>shouldst</i> grow cold<br /> +And weary of my jealous love, or think it over-bold—<br /> +<br /> +Or if, perchance, some fairer form should charm thy truant eye,<br /> +Thou'lt find me <i>woman</i>—proud and calm, so leave me—let me die.<br /> +I'd not reclaim a wavering heart whose pulse has once grown cold,<br /> +To write my name in princely halls, with diamonds and gold.<br /> +<br /> +So love me, only love me, for I have no world but thee,<br /> +And darksome clouds are in my sky—'tis woman's destiny;<br /> +But let them frown—I heed them not—no fear can they impart,<br /> +If thou art near, with smiles to bend hope's rainbow round my heart.<br /></div> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_RIVAL_SISTERS" id="THE_RIVAL_SISTERS"></a>THE RIVAL SISTERS.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +<h3>AN ENGLISH TRAGEDY OF REAL LIFE.</h3> + +<h4>BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, AUTHOR OF "THE ROMAN TRAITOR," "MARMADUKE WYVIL," ETC.</h4> + +<p>It has been gravely stated by an Italian writer of +celebrity, that "the very atrocity of the crimes which +are therein committed, proves that in Italy the growth +of man is stronger and more vigorous, and nearer to +the perfect standard of manhood, than in any other +country."</p> + +<p>A strange paradox, truly, but not an uningenious—at +least for a native of that "purple land, where +law secures not life," who would work out of the +very reproach, an argument of honor to his country. +If it be true, however, that proneness to the commission +of unwonted and atrocious crime is to be +held a token of extraordinary vigor—vigor of nerve, +of temperament, of passion, of physical development—in +a race of men, then surely must the Anglo-Norman +breed, under all circumstances of time, place, +and climate, be singularly destitute of all these +qualities—nay, singularly frail, effeminate, and incomplete.</p> + +<p>For it is an undoubted fact, both of the past and +present history of that great and still increasing race, +whether limited to the narrow bounds of the Island +Realm which gave it being, or extended to the boundless +breadth of isles, and continents, and oceans, +which it has filled with its arms, its arts, its industry, +its language—it is, I say, an undoubted fact, that those +dreadful and sanguinary crimes, forming a class apart +and distinct of themselves, engendered for the most +part by morbid passions, love, lust, jealousy, and +revenge, which are of daily occurrence in the southern +countries of, Europe, Asia, and America, are almost +unknown in those happier lands, where English laws +prevail, with English liberty and language.</p> + +<p>It is to this that must be ascribed the fact, that, in +the very few instances where crimes of this nature +have occurred in England or America, the memory +of them is preserved with singular pertinacity, the +smallest details handed down from generation to +generation, and the very spots in which they have +occurred, howmuchsoever altered or improved in +the course of ages, haunted, as if by an actual presence, +by the horror and the scent of blood; while on +the other hand the fame of ordinary deeds of violence +and rapine seems almost to be lost before the lives +of the perpetrators are run out.</p> + +<p>One, and almost, I believe, a singular instance of +this kind—for I would not dignify the brawls and +assassinations which have disgraced some of our +southern cities, the offspring of low principles and an +unregulated society, by comparing them to the class +of crimes in question, which imply even in their +atrocity a something of perverted honor, of extravagant +affection, or at least of not ignoble passion—is +the well-known Beauchamp tragedy of Kentucky, a +tale of sin and horror which has afforded a theme to +the pens of several distinguished writers, and the +details of which are as well known on the spot at +present, as if years had not elapsed since its occurrence. +And this, too, in a country prone above all +others, from the migratory habits of its population, to +cast aside all tradition, and to lose within a very few +years the memory of the greatest and most illustrious +events upon the very stage of their occurrence.</p> + +<p>It is not, therefore, wonderful that in England, +where the immobility of the population, the reverence +for antiquity, and the great prevalence of oral +tradition, induced probably at first by the want of +letters, cause the memory of even past trifles to dwell +for ages in the breasts of the simple and moral people, +any deed of romantic character, any act of unusual +atrocity, any crime prompted by unusual or extraordinary +motives, should become, as it were, part and +parcel of the place wherein it was wrought; that the +leaves of the trees should whisper it to the winds of +evening; that the echoes of the lonely hills should repeat +it; that the waters should sigh a burthen to its +strain; and that the very night should assume a +deeper shadow, a more horrid gloom, from the awe +of the unforgotten sin.</p> + +<p>I knew a place in my boyhood, thus haunted by +the memory of strange crime; and whether it was +merely the terrible romance of the story, or the wild +and gloomy character of the scenery endowed with a +sort of natural fitness to be the theatre of terrible +events, or yet again the union of the two, I know not; +but it produced upon my mind a very powerful influence, +amounting to a species of fascination, which +constantly attracted me to the spot, although when +there, the weight of the tradition, and the awe of the +scene produced a sense of actual pain.</p> + +<p>The place to which I allude was but a few miles +distant from the celebrated public school, at which I +passed the happiest days of a not uneventful life, and +was within an easy walk of the college limits; so +that when I had attained that favored eminence, +known as the sixth form, which allows its happy occupants +to roam the country, free from the fear of +masters, provided only they attend at appointed +hours, it was my frequent habit to stroll away from +the noisy playing-fields through the green hedgerow +lanes, or to scull my wherry over the smooth surface +of the silver Thames, toward the scene of dark tradition; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +and there to lap myself in thick coming fancies, +half sad, half sweet, yet terrible withal, and in their +very terror attractive, until the call of the homeward +rooks, and the lengthened shadows of the tall +trees on the greensward, would warn me that I too +must hie me back with speed, or pay the penalty of +undue delay.</p> + +<p>Now, as the story has in itself, apart from the extraneous +interest with which a perfect acquaintance +with its localities may have invested it in my eyes, +a powerful and romantic character; as its catastrophe +was no less striking than un-English; and as the passions +which gave rise to it were at once the strongest +and the most general—though rarely prevailing, at +least among us Anglo-Normans, to so fearful an +extent—I am led to hope that others may find in it +something that may enchain their attention for a time, +though it may not affect them as it has me with +an influence, unchanged by change of scene, unaltered +by the lapse of time, which alters all things.</p> + +<p>I propose, therefore, to relate it, as I heard it first +from an old superannuated follower of the family, +which, owning other, though not fairer demesnes in +some distant county, had never more used Ditton-in-the-Dale +as their dwelling place, although well nigh +two centuries had elapsed since the transaction which +had scared them away from their polluted household +gods.</p> + +<p>But first, I must describe briefly the characteristics +of the scenery, without which a part of my tale +would be hardly comprehensible, while the remarkable +effect produced by the coincidence, if I may so +express myself, between the nature of the deed, and +the nature of the place, would be lost entirely.</p> + +<p>In the first place, then, I must premise that the name +of Ditton-in-the-Dale is in a great measure a misnomer, +as the house and estate which bear that name, are +situated on what a visiter would be at first inclined +to call a dead level, but on what is in truth a small +secondary undulation, or hollow, in the broad, flat +valley through which the father of the English rivers, +the royal-towered Thames, pursues, as Gray sang,</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +The turf, the flowers, the shades among,<br /> +His silver-winding way.<br /> +</div> + +<p>But so destitute is all that country of any deep or well +defined valleys, much less abrupt glens or gorges, +that any hollow containing a tributary stream, which +invariably meanders in slow and sluggish reaches +through smooth, green meadow-land, is dignified with +the name of dale, or valley. The country is, however, +so much intersected by winding lanes, bordered +with high straggling white-thorn hedges full of tall +timber trees, is subdivided into so many small fields, +all enclosed with similar fences, and is diversified +with so many woods, and clumps of forest trees, that +you lose sight of the monotony of its surface, in consequence +of the variety of its vegetation, and of the +limited space which the eye can comprehend, at any +one time.</p> + +<p>The lane by which I was wont to reach the demesne +of Ditton, partook in an eminent degree of this character, +being very narrow, winding about continually +without any apparent cause, almost completely embowered +by the tall hawthorn hedges, and the yet +taller oaks and ashes which grew along their lines, +making, when in full verdure, twilight of noon itself, +and commanding no view whatever of the country +through which it ran, except when a field-gate, or cart-track +opened into it, affording a glimpse of a lonely +meadow, bounded, perhaps, by a deep wood-side.</p> + +<p>On either hand of this lane was a broad, deep ditch, +both of them quite unlike any other ditches I have +ever seen. Their banks were irregular; and it would +seem evident that they had not been dug for any purposes +of fencing or enclosure; and I have sometimes +imagined, from their varying width and depth—for in +places they were ten feet deep, and three times as +broad, and at others but a foot or two across, and +containing but a few inches of water—that their beds +had been hollowed out to get marl or gravel for the +convenience of the neighboring cultivators.</p> + +<p>Be this as it may, they were at all times brimful of +the clearest and most transparent water I ever remember +to have seen—never turbid even after the +heaviest rains; and though bordered by water-flags, +and tapestried in many places by the broad, round +leaves of the white and yellow water-lilies, never +corrupted by a particle of floating scum, or green +duckweed.</p> + +<p>Whether they were fed by secret springs I know +not; or whether they communicated by sluices or +side-drains with the neighboring Thames; I never +could discover any current or motion in their still, +glassy waters, though I have wandered by their banks +a hundred times, watching the red-finned roach and +silvery dace pursue each other among the shadowy +lily leaves, now startling a fat yellow frog from the +marge, and following him as he dived through the +limpid blackness to the very bottom, now starting in +my own turn, as a big water-rat would swim from +side to side, and vanish in some hole of the marly +bank, and now endeavoring to catch the great azure-bodied, +gauze-winged dragon-flies, as they shot to +and fro on their poised wings, pursuing kites of the +insect race, some of the smaller ephemera.</p> + +<p>It was those quiet, lucid waters, coupled with the +exceeding shadiness of the trees, and its very unusual +solitude—I have walked it, I suppose, from end to +end at least a hundred times, and I never remember +to have met so much even as a peasant returning +from his daily labor, or a country maiden tripping to +the neighboring town—that gave its character, and I +will add, its charm to this half pastoral, half sylvan +lane. For nearly three miles it ran in one direction, +although, as I have said, with many devious turns, +and seemingly unnecessary angles, and through that +length it did not pass within the sound of one farm-yard, +or the sight of one cottage chimney. But to +make up for this, of which it was, indeed, a consequence, +the nightingales were so bold and familiar +that they might be heard all day long filling the air +with their delicious melodies, not waiting, as in more +frequented spots, the approach of night, whose dull +ear to charm with amorous ravishment; nay, I have +seen them perched in full view on the branches, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +gazing about them fearless with their full black eyes, +and swelling their emulous throats in full view of the +spectator.</p> + +<p>Three miles passed, the lane takes a sudden turn to +the northward, having previously run, for the most +part, east and west; and here, in the inner angle, +jutting out suddenly from a dense thicket of hawthorns +and hazels, an old octagonal summer-house, +with a roof shaped like an extinguisher, projects +into the ditch, which here expands into a little pool, +some ten or twelve yards over in every direction, and +perhaps deeper than at any other point of its course.</p> + +<p>Beyond the summer-house there is a little esplanade +of green turf, faced with a low wall toward the +ditch, allowing the eye to run down a long, narrow +avenue of gigantic elm-trees, meeting at the top in +the perfect semblance of a Gothic aisle, and bordered +on each hand by hedges of yew, six feet at least in +height, clipped into the form and almost into the +solidity of a wall. At the far end of this avenue, +which must be nearly two-thirds of a mile in length, +one can discern a glimpse of a formal garden, and +beyond that, of some portion of what seems to be a +large building of red brick.</p> + +<p>At the extremity of the esplanade and little wall, +there grows an enormous oak, not very tall, but with +an immense girth of trunk, and such a spread of +branches that it completely overshadows the summer-house, +and overhangs the whole surface of the small +pool in front of it. Thenceforth, the tall and tangled +hedge runs on, as usual denying all access of the eye, +and the deep, clear ditch all access of the foot, to the +demesnes within; until at the distance of perhaps a +mile and a quarter, a little bridge crosses the latter, +and a green gate, with a pretty rustic lodge beside it, +gives entrance to a smooth lawn, with a gravel-road +running across it, and losing itself on the farther side, +in a thick belt of woodland.</p> + +<p>It is, however, with the summer-house that I have +to do principally, for it is to it that the terror of blood +has clung through the lapse of years, as the scent of +the Turkish Atar is said to cling, indestructible, to +the last fragment of the vessel which had once contained +it.</p> + +<p>When first I saw that small lonely pavilion, I had +heard nothing of the strange tradition which belonged +to it, yet as I looked on the plastered walls, all +covered with spots of damp and mildew, on the roof +overrun with ivy, in masses so wildly luxuriant as +almost to conceal the shape, on the windows, one in +each side of the octagon, closed by stout jalousies, +which had been once green with paint, but were now +green with damp and vegetable mould, a strange feeling, +half of curiosity and half of terror, came over +me, mixed with that singular fascination of which I +have spoken, which seemed to deny me any rest until +I should have searched out the mystery—for I felt +sure that mystery there was—connected with that +summer-house, so desolate and so fast lapsing into +ruin, while the hedges and gardens within appeared +well cared for, and in trim cultivation.</p> + +<p>I well remember the first time I beheld that lonely +and deserted building. It was near sunset, on as +lovely a summer evening as ever shed its soft light +on the earth; the air was breathless; the sky cloudless; +thousands of swallows were upon the wing, +some skimming the limpid surface of those old +ditches, others gliding on balanced pinions so far aloft +in the darkening firmament that the eye could barely +discern them.</p> + +<p>The nightingales were warbling their rich, melancholy +notes from every brake and thicket; the bats +had come forth and were flitting to and fro on their +leathern wings under the dark trees; but the brilliant +dragon-flies, and all the painted tribe of butterflies +had vanished already, and another race, the insects +of the night, had taken their places.</p> + +<p>The rich scent of the new-mown hay loaded the +air with fragrance, and vied with the odors of the +eglantine and honeysuckle, which, increased by the +falling dew, steamed up like incense to the evening +skies.</p> + +<p>I was alone, and thoughtful; for the time although +sweet and delicious, had nothing in it gay or joyous; +the lane along which I was strolling was steeped in +the fast increasing shadows, for although the air aloft +was full of sunshine, and the topmost leaves of the +tall ashes shimmered like gold in the late rays, not a +single beam penetrated the thick hedgerows, or fell +upon the sandy horse-road. The water in the deep +ditches looked as black as night, and the plunge of +the frogs into their cool recesses startled the ear amid +the solitude and stillness of the place.</p> + +<p>It was one of those evenings, in a word, which +calls up, we know not why, a train of thought not +altogether sad, nor wholly tender, but calm and meditative +and averse to action. I had been wandering +along thus for nearly an hour, musing deeply all the +while, yet perfectly unconscious that I was musing, +much more what was the subject of my meditations, +when coming suddenly to the turn of the lane, the old +summer-house met my eyes, and almost startled me, +so little did I expect in that place to see any thing +that should recall to my mind the dwellings or the +vicinity of man.</p> + +<p>The next minute I began to scrutinize, and to wonder—for +it was evident that this building must be an +appendage to the estate of some gentleman or person +of degree, and, knowing all the families of note in +that neighborhood, I was well assured that no one +dwelt here of sufficient position to be the owner of +what appeared at first sight to be a noble property.</p> + +<p>Anxious as I was, however, to effect my entrance +into that enchanted ground, I could discover no means +of doing so; for the depth of the water effectually cut +off all access to the hedgerow banks, even if there +had been any prospect of forcing a passage through +the tangled thorn-bushes beyond. Before I could find +any solution to my problem, the fast thickening +shadows admonished me that I must beat my retreat; +and it was only by dint of redoubled speed that I +reached college in time to escape the consequences +of absence from roll-call.</p> + +<p>An early hour of the evening found me at my post +on the following day; for having a direct object now +in view, I wasted no time on the road, and the sun +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +was still some distance above the horizon, when I +reached the summer-house.</p> + +<p>It had been my hope, as I went along, that I might +find some shallow spot, with a corresponding gap in +the hedge, before reaching the place, by means of +which I might turn the defences, and take the enemy +in the rear; but it was all in vain; and I came upon +the ground without discovering any opening by which +an animal larger than a rat could enter the forbidden +ground.</p> + +<p>Difficulty, it is well known, heightens desire; and, +if I wished before, I was now determined that I +would get in. Quickening my pace, I set off at a +smart run to reconnoitre the defences beyond, but +having found nothing that favored my plans, in some +half mile or so, I again returned, now bent on forcing +my way, even if I should be compelled to undress, +and swim across the pool to the further side.</p> + +<p>Before having recourse to this last step, however, +I reconnoitered my ground somewhat more narrowly +than before, and soon discovered that one of the main +limbs of the great oak shot quite across the pool, and +extended some little distance on my side over terra +firma.</p> + +<p>It is true that the nearer extremity of the branch +was rather of the slenderest, to support the weight +even of a boy, and that the lowest point was a foot +or two above my head. But what of that? I was +young and active in those days, and somewhat bold +withal; and without a spice of danger, where were +the pleasure or excitement of adventure?</p> + +<p>It did not take me long to make up my mind, and +before I had well thought of the risk, I had swung +myself up into the branches, and was creeping, with +even less difficulty than I had anticipated, along the +great gnarled bough above the mirrored pool.</p> + +<p>Danger, in fact, there was none; for slender as the +extremities appeared, they were tough English oak, +and the parent branch once gained, would have supported +the weight of Otus and Ephialtes, and all their +giant crew, much more of one slight Etonian.</p> + +<p>In five minutes, or less, I had reached the fork of +the trunk, and, swarming down on the further side, +stood in the full fruition of my hopes, on that enchanted +ground.</p> + +<p>It was as I had expected to find it, a singular and +gloomy spot; the tall elm trees which formed the +avenue, and the black wall of clipped yew, which +followed their course, diverging to the right and left, +formed a semicircle, the chord of which was the low +wall and hawthorn hedge, the summer-house standing, +as I entered, in the angle on my left hand.</p> + +<p>Although, as I have said, the sun was still high in +heaven, the little area was almost dark already; and +it was difficult, indeed, to conjecture for what end +the wisdom of our ancestors had planted a sun-dial in +the centre of the grass-plat, where it seemed physically +impossible that a chance sunbeam should ever +strike it, to tell the hour.</p> + +<p>If it had not been for the narrow open space between +the oak tree and the summer-house, the little +lawn would even now have been as black as night; +as it was, a sort of misty-gray twilight, increased, +perhaps, by the thin vapors rising from the tranquil +pool, filled all its precincts; and beyond these, stretching +away in long perspective until the arch at the +further end seemed dwindled to the size of a needle's +eye, was the long aisle of gloomy foliage, as massive +and impenetrable to any ray of light as the stone +arches of a Gothic cloister.</p> + +<p>The only thing that conveyed an idea of gayety or +life, to the cold and tomb-like scenery, was the +glimpse of bright sunshine which lay on the open +garden at the extremity of the elm-walk, with the +gaudy and glowing hues, indistinctly seen in the distance, +of some summer flowers.</p> + +<p>Yet even this was not all unmixed with something +of melancholy, for the contrast of the gay sunbeams +and bright flowers only rendered the gloom more apparent, +and like a convent-garden, seemed to awaken +cravings after the joyous world without, diminishing +nothing of the sorrow and monotony within.</p> + +<p>But I was not in those days much given to moralizing, +or to the investigation of my own inward +feelings.</p> + +<p>I had come thither to inquire, to see, to learn, to +find out things—not causes. And perceiving at one +glance that my first impression was correct, that the +grass-plots were recently mown, the gravel-walks +newly rolled, and spotless of weeds, the tall yew +hedges assiduously clipped into the straightest and +most formal lines; that every thing, in short, displayed +the most heedful tendance, the neatest cultivation, +with the exception of the summer-pavilion, +which evidently was devoted to decay, I became but +the more satisfied that there was some mystery, and +the more resolute to probe it to the core.</p> + +<p>It was quite clear that when that garden was laid +out, and that avenue planted, how many years ago +the giant size of the old elms denoted, the summer-house +was the meaning of the whole design. The +avenue had no object but to lead to it, the little lawn +no purpose but to receive it. Doubly strange, therefore, +did it seem that these should be kept up in all +their trimness, that suffered to fall into decay.</p> + +<p>It was the tragedy of Hamlet, with Hamlet's part +omitted!</p> + +<p>I stood for a little while wondering, and half overcome +by a sort of indescribable fanciful superstition. +A cloud had come over the sun, the nightingales had +ceased to sing, and there was not a sound of any kind +to be heard, except the melancholy murmur of the +summer air in the tree-tops.</p> + +<p>In a moment, however, the transitory spell was +shaken off, and, once more the bold and reckless +schoolboy, I turned to the performance of my self-imposed +task.</p> + +<p>The summer-house, as I have said, was octagon, +three of its sides, with a window in each, jutting out +into the clear pool, and three, with a door in the +centre, and a window on each side, fronting the little +lawn. But, alas! the windows were all secured with +jalousies, strongly bolted and barred from within, +and the door was secured by a lock, the key of which +was absent.</p> + +<p>A short examination showed, however, that the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +door was held by no bolts at the top or bottom; and +the rusty condition of both lock and hinges rendered +it probable that it would not stand a very violent +assault.</p> + +<p>Wherefore, retreating some twenty paces, I ran +at it <i>more Etonensi</i>, at the top of my speed, planted +the sole of my foot even and square against the key-hole, +with the whole impetus of my charge, and had +the satisfaction of feeling the door fly open in an +instant, while a jingling clatter within showed that +my entrance had been effected with no greater +damage to the premises than the starting of the staple +into which the bolt of the lock shot.</p> + +<p>Having entered thus, my first task was to repair +damages, which was effected in five minutes, by +driving the staple into its old place by aid of a great +stone; my second, to provide means for future visits, +which was as speedily managed by driving back the +bolt of the lock with the same great stone; and my +third, to look eagerly and curiously about me. To do +this more effectually, I soon opened the two windows +looking upon the lawn, and let in the light, for the +first time, I fancy, in many a year, to that deserted +room.</p> + +<p>If I had marveled much before I entered, much +more did I marvel now; for although every thing +within showed marks of the utmost negligence and +decay, though spiders had woven their webs in every +angle, though mildew and damp mould had defaced +the painted walls, though the gilding was black and +tarnished, though the dust lay thick on the furniture, +still I had never seen any thing in my life, except the +state-rooms at Hampton Court and Windsor Castle, +which could have vied with this pavilion in the +splendor of its original decoration.</p> + +<p>Its area was about thirty feet in diameter, and in +height nearly the same, with a domed roof, richly +fretted with what had once been golden scroll-work +upon an azure ground. The walls were painted, as +even <i>I</i> could discover, by the hand of a master, with +copies from Guido and Caracci, in compartments +bordered with massive gilded scroll-work, the ground +between the panels having been originally, like the +ceiling, of bright azure. The window-frames had +been gilded; and the inside of the door painted, like +the walls, in azure, with pictures of high merit in +the panels. Every side of the octagon but two, the +opposite walls to the right and left, were occupied +by windows or a door; but that to the right was filled +by a mantel-piece, exquisitely wrought with Caryatides +in white Carrara marble, with a copy of the +Aurora above it, while the space opposite to it had +been occupied by a superb mirror, reaching from the +cornice of the ceiling.</p> + +<p>Nearly in the centre of this mirror, however, there +was a small circular fracture, as if made by a stone +or a bullet, with long cracks radiating, like the beams +of a star, in all directions over the shivered plate; +and when I looked at it more closely, I observed +that it was dashed in many places with large drops +of some dark purple fluid, which had hardened with +time into compact and solid gouts.</p> + +<p>I thought little of this at the time, and only wondered +why people could be so mad as to abandon so +beautiful a place; and why, since they had abandoned +it, they did not remove the furniture, of which +even a boy's eye could detect the value.</p> + +<p>There was a centre-table of circular form, the +pedestal of which, curiously carved, had been +wrought, like all the rest, in gold and azure, while +the slat, when I had wiped away with some fresh +green leaves the thick layer of dust which covered it, +positively astonished my eyes, by the delicacy and +beauty of the designs with which it was adorned. +Beside this, there were divans and arm-chairs of the +same fashion and colors, with cushions which had +been once of sky-blue damask, though their brilliancy, +and even their hues, had long ago been defaced by +the dust, the dampness, and the squalor of that neglected +place.</p> + +<p>I should have mentioned, that on the beautiful +table I discovered gouts of the same dark substance +which I had previously observed on the broken +mirror: and that there were still clearly perceptible +on one of the divans, dark splashes, and what must, +when fluid, have been almost a pool of the same +deep, rusty hue.</p> + +<p>At the time, it is true, I paid little attention to these +things, being busily employed in the boy-like idea of +putting my newly discovered palace of Armida into +a complete state of repair, and coming to pass all my +leisure moments, even to the studying my Prometheus +Bound, and composing my weekly hexameters and +Alcaics in this sweet sequestered spot.</p> + +<p>And, in truth, within a week I had put the greater +part of my plan into execution; purloined dusters +from my dame's boarding-house, green boughs of the +old elms for brooms, and water from the ditch, soon +made things clean at least; and the air, which I suffered, +so long as I was there, daily, to blow through +it in all directions, soon rendered it, comparatively +speaking, dry and comfortable; and when all its +windows were thrown wide, it would be scarcely +possible to find a more lightsome or delicious spot for +summer musing than that old English summer-house.</p> + +<p>Thus things went on for weeks, for months, unsuspected—for +I always latched the door, and secured the +windows from within, before leaving my fairy palace +for the night; and as all looked just as usual without, +no one so much as dreamed of trying the lock, to +ascertain if a door were still fastened, the threshhold +of which, as men believed, no human foot had crossed +since the days of the second James.</p> + +<p>I could often, it is true, discover the traces of recent +labor in the immediate neighborhood of my discovery; +I could perceive at a glance where the grass +had been newly shorn, the yew hedges clipped, or the +gravel-walks rolled, but never, in the course of +several months, during which I spent every fine +evening, either reading, or musing, or composing +my boy verses, in that my enchanted castle—for I +began really to consider it almost my own—did I see +any human being on the premises.</p> + +<p>The cause of this, which I did not suspect until it +was revealed to me, after chance had discovered my +visits to the place, was simply this, that my intrusions +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +were confined solely to the evening, whereas, so +great was the awe of the servants and the workmen +for that lonely and terror-haunted spot, that nothing +short of absolute compulsion, or the strongest necessity, +would have induced them to go near the place, +after the sun had turned downward from the zenith.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, gratified by the complete success +of my first inroad, and the possession of my first discovery, +I felt no inclination to push my advances +further, or to make any incursion into the body of +the place.</p> + +<p>Every evening, as early as I could escape from the +college walls, I was at my post, and lingered there +as late as college hours would permit. It was a +strange fancy in a boy, and stranger yet than would +at first appear in this, that there was a very considerable +admixture of something nearly approaching to +fear, and that of a painful kind, in the feelings which +made me so assiduous in my visits to that old +pavilion.</p> + +<p>There was, it is true, nothing definite in my fancies. +I knew nothing, I cannot say even that I suspected +any thing, concerning the mysterious closing of the +place; and often, since I have been made acquainted +with the tale, I have marveled at my own obtuseness, +and wondered that a secret so transparent +should have escaped me.</p> + +<p>So it was, however, that I suspected nothing, +although I felt sure that mystery there was; and being +of somewhat an imaginative temper, I used to amuse +myself by accounting for it in my own mind, weaving +all sorts of strange and wild romances, and inventing +the most horrible stories that can be conceived, +until, as the shadows would fall dark around +me, daunted by my own conceptions, I would make +all secure and fast with trembling fingers, swing myself +back across over the pool by my accustomed +oak-branch, and run home as hard as my legs could +carry me, haunted by indistinct and almost superstitious +horror.</p> + +<p>Thus things went on, until at the end of summer +I was at last detected in my stolen visits, and the +whole mystery was cleared up.</p> + +<p>I remember as clearly as if I heard it now, the exclamation +of terror and dismay uttered by the old +gardener, who, having left some implement behind +him on the lawn during the morning labors, had been +forced to bend his unwilling steps back to the haunted +ground to recover it.</p> + +<p>I could not but smile afterward, when he recounted +to me his astonishment and terror at seeing the old +summer-house, which never had been opened within +the memory of man, with all its windows wide to +the free air and evening sunshine—when he told me +how often he turned back to seek aid from his fellows—how +he almost believed that fiends or evil spirits +were holding their foul sabbath there, and how he +started aghast with horror, not now for himself, but +for me, as he beheld the young Etonian stretched +tranquilly upon the blood-stained couch—for those +dark stains were of human gore—conning his task +for the morrow.</p> + +<p>I rushed out of the place at his hurried outcry; a +few words told my story, and plead my excuse—with +the good, simple-minded rustic little excuse was +needed—but it was not till after many sittings, and +many a long afternoon's discourse, that I learned all +the details of the sad event which had converted that +fair pavilion into a place as terrible, to the ideas of +the country folks, as a dark charnel-vault.</p> + +<p>"Ay!" said the old man, as he gazed fearfully about +him, after I had persuaded him at length to cross the +dreaded threshhold, "Ay! it is all as they tell, though +not a man of them has ever seen it. There is the +glass which the bullet broke, after passing right +through his brain; and there is his blood, all spattered +on the mirror. And look, young master, those spots +on the table came from <i>her</i> heart; and that couch you +was lying on, is where they laid her when they took +her up. See, it's all dabbled yet; and where your +head was resting now, the dead girl's head lay, more +than a hundred years since! Come away, master—come +away! I never thought to have looked on these +things, though I know all about them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell me—tell me about them!" I exclaimed. +"I am not a bit afraid. Do tell me all about them."</p> + +<p>"Not now—not now—nor not here," said the old +man, gazing about as if he expected to see a spirit +stalk out of some shady nook of the surrounding +trees. "I would not tell you here to be master of all +Ditton-in-the-Dale! But come up, if you will, to the +great house to-morrow, and ask for old Matthew +Dawson, and I'll show you all the place—the family +never lives here now, nor hasn't since that deed was +done—and then I'll tell you all about it, if you must +hear. But if you're wise, you'll shun it; for it will +chill your young blood to listen, and cling to your +young heart with a gloom forever."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will come, be sure, Matthew! I would +not miss it for the world. But it is getting late, so +I'll fasten up the old place, and be going;" and suiting +the action to the word, I soon secured the fastenings, +while the old gardener stood by, marvelling and muttering +at the boldness of young blood, until I had +finished setting things in order, when I shook hands +with the old man, slipping my <i>one</i> half crown into his +horny palm, and saying,</p> + +<p>"Well, good night, Matthew Dawson, and don't +forget to-morrow evening."</p> + +<p>"That I wont, master," he replied, greatly propitiated +by my offering. "But which way are you +going?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll soon show you," I replied; and swinging +myself up my tree, I was beyond the precincts of the +haunted ground almost in a moment.</p> + +<p>"The very way <i>he</i> came the time he did it," cried +the old gardener, with upturned hands, and eyes +aghast. But I tarried then to ask no further questions, +being quite sufficiently terrified for one night; although +my pride forbade my displaying my terrors to the +old rustic.</p> + +<p>The next day I was punctual to my appointment; +and then, for the first time, I heard the melancholy +tale which, at length, I purpose to relate.</p> + +<p>It was a proud and noble Norman family which +had held the demesnes of Ditton-in-the-Dale, since +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +the reign of the last Plantagenet—a brave and loyal +race, which had poured its blood like water on many +a foreign, many a native battle-field. At Evesham, +a Fitz-Henry had fought beside Prince Edward's bridle-rein, +against the great De Montfort, and his confederate +barons; and afterward through all the long +and cruel wars of the Roses, on every field a Fitz-Henry +had won honor or lost blood, upholding the +claims of the true sovereign house—the house of +York—until at fatal Bosworth the house itself went +down, and dragged down with it the fortunes of its +bold supporters.</p> + +<p>Thereafter, during the reign of the Tudors, the +name of Fitz-Henry was heard rarely in the court, +or on the field; impoverished in fortune by fines and +sequestrations, suspected of disloyalty to the now +sovereign house, the heads of the family had wisely +held themselves aloof from intrigue and conspiracy, +and dwelt among their yeomen, who had in old times +been their fathers' vassals, stanch lovers of field-sports, +true English country gentlemen, seeking the +favor and fearing the ill-will of no man—no, not of +England's king.</p> + +<p>Attached to the old religion, though neither bigots +nor zealots, they had escaped the violence of bluff +Harry, when he turned Protestant for Bullen's eyes; +and had, though something to leeward of her favor, +as lukewarm Romanists and no lovers of the Spaniard, +passed safely through the ordeal of Mary's +cruel reign.</p> + +<p>But with the accession of the man-minded Elizabeth, +the fortunes of the house revived for a while. +It was the policy of that great and gracious queen to +gather around her all that were brave, honest, and +manly in her realm, without regard to family creeds, +or family traditions. Claiming descent as much from +one as from the other of the rival houses of Lancaster +and York, loyalty to the one was no more offence +to her clear eyes than good faith to the other. While +loyalty to what he honestly believed to be the true +sovereign house, was the strongest recommendation +to her favor in each and every subject.</p> + +<p>The Fitz-Henry, therefore, of her day, a young and +gallant soldier, who visited the shores of the New +World with Cavendish and Raleigh, fought for his +native land, although a Catholic, against the terrible +armada of the Most Catholic King, with Drake, and +Frobisher and Howard, waged war in the Low +Countries, and narrowly missed death at Tutphen by +Philip Sidney's side, stood as high in the favor of his +queen as in the estimation of all good and honorable +men. It is true, when the base and odious James +succeeded to the throne of the lion-queen, and substituted +mean and loathsome king-craft for frank and +open English policy, the gray-haired soldier, navigator, +statesman—for he had shone in each capacity—retired, +as his ancestors had done before him, during +the reigns of the seventh and eighth Henrys, to the +peaceful shades and innocent pleasures of Ditton-in-the-Dale.</p> + +<p>So true, however, was he to the time-honored +principles of his high race, so loyally did he bring up +his son, so firmly did he strengthen his youthful mind +with all maxims, and all laws of honor, linking the +loyal subject to the rightful king, that no sooner had +the troubles broken out between the misguided monarch +and his rebellious Parliament—although the +veteran of Elizabeth had fallen asleep long before, +full of years and honors—than his young heir, Osborn +Fitz-Henry, displayed the cognizance of his old +house, mustered his tenantry, and set foot in stirrup, +well nigh the first, to withdraw it the very last, of +the adherents of the hapless Charles. So long did he +resist in arms, so pertinaciously did he uphold the +authority of the first Charles, so early did he rise +again in behalf of the second, that he was noted by +the Parliament as an incorrigible and most desperate +malignant; and, had it not been that, by his gallantry +in the field, and his humanity when the strife was +ended, he had won the personal good-will of Cromwell, +it is most likely that it would have gone hard +with his fortunes if not with his life.</p> + +<p>After the restoration, he was of course neglected +by the fiddling, gambling, wenching, royal buffoon, +who succeeded the royal martyr, and whose necessities +he had supplied, when an outcast pauper exile +in a foreign land, from the proceeds of those very +estates which he had so nearly lost in fighting for his +crown.</p> + +<p>Osborn Fitz-Henry, too, was gathered to his fathers. +He died little advanced beyond the prime of life, +worn out with the toil he had undergone in the camp, +and shattered by the wounds which he had received +on almost every battle-field from Edge-Hill to Dunbar +and Worcester.</p> + +<p>He had, however, married very young, before the +breaking out of the rebellion, and had lived to see +not his son only a noble and superior man, ready to +fill his place when vacant, and in it uphold the honor +of his family, but his son's children also advancing +fast toward maturity.</p> + +<p>Allan Fitz-Henry, the son of Charles' stout partisan, +the grandson of Elizabeth's warrior, was the head of +the house, when my tale commences.</p> + +<p>He, too, had married young—such, indeed, was +the custom of his house—and had survived his wife, +by whom he had two fair daughters, but no heir; +and this was a source of vexation so constantly present +to his mind, that in the end it altered the whole +disposition of the man, rendering him irritable, harsh, +stern, unreasonable, and unhappy.</p> + +<p>Fondly attached to the memory of his lost wife, +whom he had loved devotedly while living, it never +entered his mind to marry a second time, even with +the hope of begetting an heir by whom to perpetuate +the honors and principles of his house; although he +was continually on the fret—miserable himself, and +making others miserable, in consequence of the certainty +that he should be the last of his race.</p> + +<p>His only hope was now centered in his daughters, +or to speak more correctly, in his eldest daughter—for +her he had determined to constitute his heiress, +endowing her with all his landed property, all his +heirlooms, all that could constitute her the head of +his house; in return for which he had predetermined +that she should become the wife of some husband of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +his own choosing, who should unite to a pedigree as +noble as that of the Howards, all qualifications which +should fit him to represent the house into which he +should be adopted; and who should be willing to drop +his own paternal name and bearings, how ancient +and noble soever, in order to adopt the style and the +arms of Fitz-Henry.</p> + +<p>Proud by nature, by blood, and by education—though +with a clear and honorable pride—he had been +rendered a thousand times prouder and more haughty +by the very circumstances which seemed to threaten +a downfall to the fortunes of his house—his house, +which had survived such desperate reverses; which +had come out of every trial, like pure gold, the better +and the brighter from the furnace—his house, which +neither the ruin of friendly monarchs, nor the persecutions +of hostile monarchs, nor the neglect of ungrateful +monarchs, had been able to shake, any more +than the autumnal blasts, or the frosts of winter, had +availed to uproot the oak trees of his park, coeval +with his name.</p> + +<p>In the midst of health and wealth, honor and good +esteem, with an affectionate family, and a devoted +household around him, Allan Fitz-Henry fancied himself +a most unhappy man—perhaps the most unhappy +of mankind.</p> + +<p>Alas! was it to punish such vain, such sinful, such +senseless, and inordinate repinings?</p> + +<p>Who shall presume to scrutinize the judgments, +or pry into the secrets of the Inscrutable?</p> + +<p>This much alone is certain, that ere he was gathered +to his fathers, Allan Fitz-Henry might, and that not +unjustly, have termed himself that, which now, in +the very wantonness of pampered and insatiate success +he swore that he was daily—the most unhappy +of the sons of men.</p> + +<p>For to calamities so dreadful as might have disturbed +the reason of the strongest minded, remorse +was added, so just, so terrible, so overwhelming, +that men actually marveled how he lived on and +was not insane.</p> + +<p>But I must not anticipate.</p> + +<p>It was a short time after the failure of the Duke +of Monmouth's weak and ungrateful attempt at +revolution, a short time after the conclusion of the +merciless and bloody butcheries of that disgrace to +the English ermine, the ferocious Jefferies, that the +incidents occurred, which I learned first on the +evening subsequent to my discovery in the fatal +summer-house.</p> + +<p>At this time Allan Fitz-Henry—it was a singular +proof, by the way, of the hereditary pride of this old +Norman race, that having numbered among them so +many friends and counsellors of monarchs, no one of +their number had been found willing to accept titular +honors, holding it a higher thing to be the premier +gentleman than the junior peer of England—At this +time, I say, Allan Fitz-Henry was a man of some +forty-five or fifty years, well built and handsome, of +courtly air and dignified presence; nor must it be +imagined that in his fancied grievances he forgot to +support the character of his family, or that he carried +his griefs abroad with him into the world.</p> + +<p>At times, indeed, he might be a little grave and +thoughtful, especially at such times as he heard mention +made of the promise or success of this or that +scion of some noble house; but it was only within +his own family circle, and to his most familiar friends, +that he was wont to open his heart, and complain of +his ill-fortune, at being the first childless father of his +race—for so, in his contempt for the poor girls, whom +he still, strange contradiction! loved fondly and +affectionately, he was accustomed in his dark hours +to style himself; as if forsooth an heir male were the +only offspring worthy to be called the child of such a +house.</p> + +<p>Though he was fond, and gentle, and at times even +tender to his motherless daughters—for, to do him +justice, he never suffered a symptom of his disappointment +and disgust to break out to their annoyance, +yet was there no gleam of paternal satisfaction +in his sad eye, no touch of paternal pride in his vexed +heart, as he looked upon their graceful forms, and +noted their growing beauties.</p> + +<p>And yet they were a pair of whom the haughtiest +potentate on earth might have been proud, and with +justice.</p> + +<p>Blanche and Agnes Fitz-Henry were at this time +in their eighteenth and seventeenth years—but one +summer having passed between their births, and +their mother having died within a few hours after the +latter saw the light.</p> + +<p>They were, indeed, as lovely girls as the sun of +merry England shone upon; and in those days it was +still <i>merry</i> England, and famous then as now for the +rare beauty of its women, whether in the first dawn +of girlhood, or in the full-blown flush of feminine +maturity.</p> + +<p>Both tall, above the middle height of women, both +exquisitely formed, with figures delicate and slender, +yet full withal, and voluptuously rounded, with the +long taper hands, the small and shapely feet and +ankles, the swan-like necks, and classic heads gracefully +set on, which are held to denote, in all countries, +the predominance of gentle blood; when seen at a +distance, and judged by the person only, it would +have been almost impossible to distinguish the elder +from the younger sister.</p> + +<p>But look upon them face to face, and never, in all +respects, were two girls of kindred race so entirely +dissimilar. The elder, Blanche, was, as her name +denotes, though ladies' names are oftentimes misnomers, +a genuine English blonde. Her abundant +and beautiful hair, trained to float down upon her +snowy shoulders in silky masses of unstudied curls, +was of the lightest golden brown. There was not a +shade of red in its hues, although her complexion was +of that peculiarly dazzling character which is common +to red-haired persons; yet when the sun shone +on its glistening waves, so brilliantly did the golden +light flash from it, that you might almost have +imagined there was a circlet of living glory above +her clear white brow.</p> + +<p>Her eyebrows and eyelashes were many shades +darker than her hair, relieving her face altogether +from that charge of insipidity which is so often, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +for the most part so truly, brought against fair-haired +and fair-featured beauties. The eyes themselves, +which those long lashes shrouded, were of the deepest +violet blue; so deep, that at first sight you would +have deemed them black, but for the soft and humid +languor which is never seen in eyes of that color. +The rest of her features were as near as possible +to the Grecian model, except that there was a +slight depression where the nose joins the brow, +breaking that perfectly straight line of the classical +face, which, however beautiful to the statue, is less +attractive in life than the irregular outline of the +northern countenance.</p> + +<p>Her mouth, with the exception of—perhaps I should +rather say in conjunction with—her eyes, was the +most lovely and expressive feature in her face. +There were twin dimples at its corners; yet was +not its expression one of habitual mirth, but of tenderness +and softness rather, unmixed, although an +anchorite might have been pardoned the wish to +press his lips to its voluptuous curve, with the +slightest expression of sensuality.</p> + +<p>Her complexion was, as I have said, dazzlingly +brilliant; but it was the brilliance of the lily rather +than of the rose, though at the least emotion, whether +of pain or pleasure, the eloquent blood would rush, +like the morning's glow over some snow-crowned +Alp, across cheek, brow, and neck, and bosom, and +vanish thence so rapidly, that ere you should have +time to say, nay, even to think,</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +"Look! look how beautiful, 't was fled."<br /> +</div> + +<p>Such was the elder beauty, the destined heiress of +the ancient house, the promised mother of a line +of sons, who should perpetuate the name and hand +down the principles of the Fitz-Henries to far distant +ages. Such were the musings of her father,</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Proh! cœca mens mortalium!<br /> +</div> + +<p>and at such times alone, if ever, a sort of doubtful +pride would come to swell his hope, whispering that +for such a creature, no man, however high or haughty, +but would be willing to renounce the pride of birth, +even untempted by the demesnes of Ditton-in-the-Dale, +and many another lordly manor coupled to the +time-honored name of Fitz-Henry.</p> + +<p>Her sister, Agnes, though not less beautiful than +Blanche—and there were those who insisted that she +was more so—was as different from her, in all but the +general resemblance of figure and carriage, as night +is from morning, or autumn from early summer-time.</p> + +<p>Her ringlets, not less profuse than Blanche's, and +clustering in closer and more mazy curls, were as +black as the raven's wing, and, like the feathers of +the wild bird, were lighted up when the sun played on +them with a sort of purplish and metallic gloss, that defies +alike the pen of the writer, and the painter's +pencil to depict to the eye.</p> + +<p>Her complexion, though soft and delicate, was of +the very darkest hue that is ever seen in persons of +unmixed European blood; so dark that the very blood +which would mantle to her cheek at times in burning +blushes, was shaded, as it were, with a darker hue, +like damask roses seen through the medium of a gold-tinted +window-pane.</p> + +<p>Her brows and lashes were as black as night, but, +strange to say, the eyes that flashed from beneath +them with an almost painful splendor, were of a clear, +deep azure, less dark than those of the fairer sister, +giving a singular and wild character to her whole +face, and affecting the style of her beauty, but +whether for the better or the worse it was for those who +admired or shunned—and there were who took both +parts—to determine. Her face was rounder and +fuller than her sister's, and, in fact, this was true of +her whole person—so much so that she was often +mistaken for the elder—her features were less regular, +her nose having a slight tendency to that form which +has no name in our language, but which charmed all +beholders in Roxana, as <i>retroussie</i>. Her mouth was +as warm, as soft, as sweetly dimpled, but it was not +free from that expression which Blanche's lacked +altogether, and might have been blamed as too wooing +and luxurious.</p> + +<p>Such were the various characters of the sisters' +personal appearance—the characters of their mental +attributes were as distinctly marked, and as widely +different.</p> + +<p>Blanche was all gentleness and moderation from +her very cradle—a delicate and tender child, smiling +always, but rarely laughing; never boisterous or +loud even in her childish plays. And as she grew +older, this character became more definite, and was +more strongly observed; she was a pensive, tranquil +creature, not melancholy, much less sad—for she +was awake to all that was beautiful or grand, all that +was sweet or gentle in the face of nature, or in the +history of man; and there was, perhaps, more real +happiness concealed under her calm exterior, than +is often to be found under the wilder mirth of merrier +beings. Ever ready to yield her wishes to those of +her friends or companions, many persons imagined +that she had little will, and no fixed wishes, or deliberate +aspirations—passionless and pure as the lily +of the vale, many supposed that she was cold and +heartless. Oh! ignorant! not to remember that the +hearts of the fiercest volcanos boil still beneath a head +of snow; and that it is even in the calmest and most moderate +characters that passion once enkindled burns +fierce, perennial and unquenchable! Thus far, however, +had she advanced into the flower of fair maidenhood, +undisturbed by any warmer dream than devoted +affection toward her parent, whose wayward grief she +could understand if she could not appreciate, and +whom she strove by every gentle wile to wean from +his morbid fancies; and earnest love toward her +sister, whom she, indeed, almost adored—perhaps +adored the more from the very difference of their +minds, and for her very imperfections.</p> + +<p>For Agnes was all gay vivacity, and petulance, +and fire—so that her young companions, who sportively +named Blanche the icicle, had christened her +the sunbeam; and, in truth, if the first name were ill +chosen, the second seemed to be an inspiration; for +like a sunbeam that touched nothing but to illuminate +it, like a sunbeam she played with all things, smiled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +on all things in their turn—like a sunbeam she brought +mirth with her presence, and after her departure, left +a double gloom behind her.</p> + +<p>More dazzling than Blanche, she made her impression +at first sight, and so long as the skies were clear, +and the atmosphere unruffled, the sunbeam would +continue to gild, to charm, to be worshiped. But +if the time of darkness and affliction came, the gay +sunbeam held aloof, while the poor icicle, melted +from its seeming coldness, was ever ready to weep +for the sorrows of those who had neglected her in the +days of their happiness.</p> + +<p>Unused to yield, high-spirited when crossed, yet +carrying off even her stubbornness and quick temper +by the brilliancy, the wit, the lively and bold audacity +which she cast around them, Agnes ruled in her +circle an imperious and despotic queen; while her +slaves, even as they trembled before her half sportive +but emphatic frown, did not suspect the sceptre of +the tyrant beneath the spell of the enchantress.</p> + +<p>Agnes, in one word, was the idol of the rich and +gay; Blanche was the saint of the poor, the lowly, +the sick, and those who mourn.</p> + +<p>It may be that the peculiarity of her position, the +neglect which she had always experienced from her +father, and mediately from the hirelings of the household, +ever prompt to pander to the worst feelings of +their superiors—the consciousness that born co-heiress +with her sister, she was doomed to sink into +the insignificance of an undowered and uncared-for +girl, had tended in some degree to form the +character which Agnes had ever borne, and which +alone she had displayed, until the period when my +tale commences.</p> + +<p>It may be that the consciousness of wrong endured, +had hardened a heart naturally soft and tender, and +rendered it unyielding and rebellious—it may be that +injustice, endured at the hands of hirelings in early +years, had engendered a spirit of resistance, and +armed her mind and quickened her tongue against +the world, which, as she fancied, wronged her. It +may be, more than all, that a secret, perhaps an unconscious +jealousy of her sister's superior advantages, +not in the wretched sense of worldly wealth or position, +but of the love and reverence of friends and +kindred, had embittered her young soul, and caused +her to cast over it a veil of light and wild demeanor, +of free speech, and daring mirth, which had by degrees +grown into habits, and become part and parcel +of her nature.</p> + +<p>If it were so, however, there were no outward indications +that such was the case; for never were +there seen two sisters more united and affectionate—nor +would it have been easy to say on which side +the balance of kindness preponderated. For if +Blanche was ever the first to cede to her sister's +wishes, and the last, in any momentary disappointment +or annoyance, to speak one quick or unkind +word, so was Agnes, with her expressive features, +and flashing eye, and ready, tameless wit, prompt as +light to avenge the slightest reflection cast on +Blanche's tranquillity and coldness; and if at times a +quick word or sharp retort broke from her lips, and +called a tear to the eye of her calmer sister, not a +moment would elapse before she would cast herself +upon her neck and weep her sincere contrition, and +be for hours an altered being; until her natural spirit +would prevail, and she would be again the wild, +mirthful madcap, whose very faults could call forth no +keener reproach than a grave and thoughtful smile +from the lips of those who loved her the most dearly.</p> + +<p>Sad were the daughters of Allan Fitz-Henry—daughters +whom not a peer in England but would +have regarded as the brightest gems of his coronets, +as the pride and ornament of his house; but whom, +by a strange anomaly, their own father, full as he +was of warm affections, and kindly inclinations, +never looked upon but with a secret feeling of discontent +and disappointment, that they were not other +than they were: and with a half confessed conviction, +that fair as they were, tender, and loving, graceful, +accomplished, delicate and noble-minded, he +could have borne to lay them both in the cold grave, +so that a son could be given to the house, in exchange +for their lost loveliness.</p> + +<p>In outward demeanor, however, he was to his +children all that a father should be; a little querulous +at times, perhaps, and irritable, but fond, though not +doting, and considerate; and I have wandered greatly +from my intention, if any thing that I have said has +been construed to signify that there existed the slightest +estrangement between the father and his children—for +had Allan Fitz-Henry but suspected the possibility +of such a thing, he had torn the false pride, like +a venomous weed, from his heart, and had been a +wiser and a happier man. In his case it was the +blindness of the heart that caused its partial hardness; +but events were at hand, that should flood it with the +clearest light, and melt it to more than woman's +tenderness.</p> + +<p class="rt">[<i>To be continued.</i><br /></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SONNET_TO_GRAHAM" id="SONNET_TO_GRAHAM"></a>SONNET TO GRAHAM.</h2> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +On, in thy mission! 'T is a holy power<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That which thou wieldest o'er a people's heart:</span><br /> +And wastes of mind, that never knew a flower,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bloom now and brighten, 'neath thy magic art.</span><br /> +Hearthstones are cheerful that were chill before;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And softened beams, like light that melteth through</span><br /> +The stained glass of old cathedrals, pour<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stream upon stream of beauty. All that's true,</span><br /> +All that is brave and beautiful, 't is thine—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">High office, high and holy! thus to shed,</span><br /> +Sun-like, and sole, in shadow or in shine,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thoughts that bedew and rouse minds cold and dead,</span><br /> +Startling the pulse that stirred not. This is thine! +Be proudly humble: 't is a power divine!</div> + +<p><i>New Orleans, October</i> 1, 1847.<span style="margin-left: 20em" class="smcap">Altus.</span></p> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MARGINALIA" id="MARGINALIA"></a>MARGINALIA</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +<h4>BY EDGAR A. POE.</h4> + +<p>We mere men of the world, with no principle—a +very old-fashioned and cumbersome thing—should +be on our guard lest, fancying him on his last legs, +we insult, or otherwise maltreat some poor devil of +a genius at the very instant of his putting his foot on +the top round of his ladder of triumph. It is a common +trick with these fellows, when on the point of +attaining some long-cherished end, to sink themselves +into the deepest possible abyss of seeming despair, +for no other purpose than that of increasing the space +of success through which they have made up their +minds immediately to soar.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>All that the man of genius demands for his exaltation +is moral matter in motion. It makes no difference +<i>whither</i> tends the motion—whether for him or +against him—and it is absolutely of <i>no</i> consequence +"<i>what</i> is the matter."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In Colton's "American Review" for October, 1845, +a gentleman, well known for his scholarship, has a +forcible paper on "The Scotch School of Philosophy +and Criticism." But although the paper is "forcible," +it presents the most singular admixture of error and +truth—the one dovetailed into the other, after a +fashion which is novel, to say the least of it. Were +I to designate in a few words what the whole article +demonstrated, I should say "the folly of not beginning +at the beginning—of neglecting the giant Moulineau's +advice to his friend Ram." Here is a passage +from the essay in question:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The Doctors [Campbell and Johnson] both charge +Pope with error and inconsistency:—error in supposing +that <i>in English</i>, of metrical lines unequal +in the number of syllables and pronounced in equal +times, the longer suggests celerity (this being the +principle of the Alexandrine:)—inconsistency, in that +Pope himself uses the same contrivance to convey +the contrary idea of slowness. But why in English? +It is not and cannot be disputed that, in the Hexameter +verse of the Greeks and Latins—which is the +model in this matter—what is distinguished as the +'dactylic line' was uniformly applied to express +velocity. How was it to do so? Simply from the +fact of being pronounced in an equal time with, while +containing a greater number of syllables or 'bars' +than the ordinary or average measure; as, on the +other hand, the spondaic line, composed of the minimum +number, was, upon the same principle, used to +indicate slowness. So, too, of the Alexandrine in +English versification. No, says Campbell, there is a +difference: the Alexandrine is not in fact, like the +dactylic line, pronounced in the common time. But +does this alter the principle? What is the rationale +of Metre, whether the classical hexameter or the +English heroic?"</p></div> + +<p>I have written an essay on the "Rationale of +Verse," in which the whole topic is surveyed <i>ab +initio</i>, and with reference to general and immutable +principles. To this essay (which will soon appear) +I refer Mr. Bristed. In the meantime, without troubling +myself to ascertain whether Doctors Johnson +and Campbell are wrong, or whether Pope is wrong, +or whether the reviewer is right or wrong, at this +point or at that, let me succinctly state what is <i>the +truth</i> on the topics at issue.</p> + +<p>And first; the same principles, in <i>all</i> cases, govern +<i>all</i> verse. What is true in English is true in Greek.</p> + +<p>Secondly; in a series of lines, if one line contains +more syllables than the law of the verse demands, +and if, nevertheless, this line is pronounced in the +same time, upon the whole, as the rest of the lines, +then this line suggests celerity—on account of the +increased rapidity of enunciation required. Thus in +the Greek Hexameter the dactylic lines—those most +abounding in dactyls—serve best to convey the idea +of rapid motion. The spondaic lines convey that of +slowness.</p> + +<p>"Thirdly; it is a gross mistake to suppose that +the Greek dactylic line is "the model in this matter"—the +matter of the English Alexandrine. The Greek +dactylic line is of the same number of feet—bars—beats—pulsations—as +the ordinary dactylic-spondaic +lines among which it occurs. But the Alexandrine +is longer by one foot—by one pulsation—than the +pentameters among which it arises. For its pronunciation +it demands <i>more time</i>, and therefore, <i>ceteris +paribus</i>, it would well serve to convey the impression +of length, or duration, and thus, indirectly, of +slowness. I say <i>ceteris paribus</i>. But, by varying +conditions, we can effect a total change in the impression +conveyed. When the idea of slowness is conveyed +by the Alexandrine, it is not conveyed by any +slower enunciation of syllables—that is to say, it is +not <i>directly</i> conveyed—but indirectly, through the +idea of <i>length</i> in the whole line. Now, if we wish +to convey, by means of an Alexandrine, the impression +of velocity, we readily do so by giving rapidity +to our enunciation of the syllables composing the +several feet. To effect this, however, we must have +<i>more</i> syllables, or we shall get through the whole +line too quickly for the intended time. To get more +syllables, all we have to do, is to use, in place of +iambuses, what our prosodies call anapœsts.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Thus, +in the line,</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main,<br /> +</div> + +<p>the syllables "<i>the unbend</i>" form an anapœst and, +demanding unusual rapidity of enunciation, in order +that we may get them in in the ordinary time of an +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +iambus, serve to suggest celerity. By the elision of +<i>e</i> in <i>the</i>, as is customary, the whole of the intended +effect is lost; for <i>th'unbend</i> is nothing more than the +usual iambus. In a word, wherever an Alexandrine +expresses celerity, we shall find it to contain one or +more anapœsts—the more anapœsts, the more decided +the impression. But the tendency of the Alexandrine +consisting merely of the usual iambuses, is to convey +slowness—although it conveys this idea feebly, on +account of conveying it indirectly. It follows, from +what I have said, that the common pentameter, interspersed +with anapœsts, would better convey celerity +than the Alexandrine interspersed with them in a +similar degree;—and it unquestionably does.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>To converse well, we need the cool tact of talent—to +talk well, the glowing <i>abandon</i> of genius. +Men of <i>very</i> high genius, however, talk at one time +<i>very</i> well, at another <i>very</i> ill:—well, when they +have full time, full scope, and a sympathetic listener:—ill, +when they fear interruption and are annoyed +by the impossibility of exhausting the topic during +that particular talk. The partial genius is flashy—scrappy. +The true genius shudders at incompleteness—imperfection—and +usually prefers silence to +saying the something which is not every thing that +should be said. He is so filled with his theme that he +is dumb, first from not knowing how to begin, where +there seems eternally beginning behind beginning, +and secondly from perceiving his true end at so infinite +a distance. Sometimes, dashing into a subject, +he blunders, hesitates, stops short, sticks fast, and, +because he has been overwhelmed by the rush and +multiplicity of his thoughts, his hearers sneer at his +inability to think. Such a man finds his proper element +in those "great occasions" which confound +and prostrate the general intellect.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, by his conversation, the influence +of the conversationist upon mankind in general, is +more decided than that of the talker by his talk:—the +latter invariably talks to best purpose with his +pen. And good conversationists are more rare than +respectable talkers. I know many of the latter; and +of the former only five or six:—among whom I can +call to mind, just now, Mr. Willis, Mr. J. T. S. S.—of +Philadelphia, Mr. W. M. R.—of Petersburg, Va., +and Mrs. S——d, formerly of New York. Most +people, in conversing, force us to curse our stars +that our lot was not cast among the African nation +mentioned by Eudoxus—the savages who, having no +mouths, never opened them, as a matter of course. +And yet, if denied mouth, some persons whom I have +in my eye would contrive to chatter on still—as +they do now—through the nose.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +All in a hot and copper sky<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The bloody sun at noon</span><br /> +Just up above the mast did stand,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No bigger than the moon.—</span><span class="smcap">Coleridge</span>.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Is it possible that the poet did not know the apparent +diameter of the moon to be greater than that of +the sun?</p> + +<p>If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize, +at one effort, the universal world of human thought, +human opinion, and human sentiment, the opportunity +is his own—the road to immortal renown lies straight, +open, and unencumbered before him. All that he has +to do is to write and publish a very little book. Its +title should be simple—a few plain words—"My +Heart Laid Bare." But—this little book must be +<i>true to its title</i>.</p> + +<p>Now, is it not very singular that, with the rabid +thirst for notoriety which distinguishes so many of +mankind—so many, too, who care not a fig what is +thought of them after death, there should not be found +one man having sufficient hardihood to write this little +book? To <i>write</i>, I say. There are ten thousand +men who, if the book were once written, would laugh +at the notion of being disturbed by its publication +during their life, and who could not even conceive +<i>why</i> they should object to its being published after +their death. But to write it—<i>there</i> is the rub. No +man dare write it. No man ever will dare write it. +No man <i>could</i> write it, even if he dared. The paper +would shrivel and blaze at every touch of the fiery pen.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +For all the rhetorician's rules<br /> +Teach nothing but to name the tools.—<span class="smcap">Hudibras</span>.<br /> +</div> + +<p>What these oft-quoted lines go to show is, that a +falsity in verse will travel faster and endure longer +than a falsity in prose. The man who would sneer +or stare at a silly proposition nakedly put, will admit +that "there is a good deal in that" when "<i>that</i>" is +the point of an epigram shot into the ear. The rhetorician's +rules—if they <i>are</i> rules—teach him not only +to name his tools, but to use his tools, the capacity of +his tools—their extent—their limit; and from an examination +of the nature of the tools—(an examination +forced on him by their constant presence)—force him, +also, into scrutiny and comprehension of the material +on which the tools are employed, and thus, finally, +suggest and give birth to new material for new tools.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Among his <i>eidola</i> of the den, the tribe, the forum, +the theatre, etc., Bacon might well have placed +the great <i>eidolon</i> of the parlor (or of the wit, as I +have termed it in one of the previous Marginalia)—the +idol whose worship blinds man to truth by dazzling +him with the <i>apposite</i>. But what title could +have been invented for <i>that</i> idol which has propagated, +perhaps, more of gross error than all combined?—the +one, I mean, which demands from its +votaries that they reciprocate cause and effect—reason +in a circle—lift themselves from the ground by pulling +up their pantaloons—and carry themselves on their +own heads, in hand-baskets, from Beersheba to Dan.</p> + +<p>All—absolutely all the argumentation which I have +seen on the nature of the soul, or of the Deity, seems +to me nothing but worship of this unnameable idol. +<i>Pour savoir ce qu'est Dieu</i>, says Bielfeld, although +nobody listens to the solemn truth, <i>il faut être Dieu +même</i>—and to reason about the reason is of all things +the most unreasonable. At least, he alone is fit to +discuss the topic who perceives at a glance the insanity +of its discussion.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_PENANCE_OF_ROLAND" id="THE_PENANCE_OF_ROLAND"></a>THE PENANCE OF ROLAND.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> + +<h3>A ROMANCE OF THE PEINE FORTE ET DURE.</h3> + +<h4>BY HENRY B. HIRST.</h4> + +<h3>PART I.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +When the weird and wizard bats were flitting round his dusky way,<br /> +Over a moorland, like a whirlwind, rushed the knight, Sir Roland Grey;<br /> +When the crimson sun was setting, as the yellow moon arose,<br /> +Far and faint, behind Sir Roland, sank the slogan of his foes—<br /> +<br /> +Far and faint; and growing fainter as he reached the forest sward,<br /> +Spreading round for many an acre over the lands which owned him lord.<br /> +As he dashed along the woodland, fitfully, upon the breeze,<br /> +Swept the tu-who-o of the owlet through the naked forest trees;<br /> +<br /> +And the loudly whirring black-cock through the creaking branches sprung,<br /> +Frightened by his horse's hoofs, that like the Cyclop's anvil rung—<br /> +Like a hurricane on he hurried, wood and valley gliding past,<br /> +While around him, o'er him, on him, burst the sudden autumn blast.<br /> +<br /> +Down upon him, in a deluge, rushed the cold November rain;<br /> +But the wind about him whistled, and the tempest swept in vain.<br /> +What to him was wind or tempest, when his brain was seared with flame?<br /> +What to him was earth or heaven, when his soul was sick with shame?<br /> +<br /> +In the dreary, desolate desert on his ears had burst a tale,<br /> +That, like falling thunder, stunned and left him terrified and pale;<br /> +How, while he was battling bravely, like a true and holy knight,<br /> +For the sacred tomb of Christ, against the swarthy Moslemite;<br /> +<br /> +How, while round him lances shivered, armor rang, and arrows fell,<br /> +And the air was mad with noises—Arab shout and Paynim yell—<br /> +She, the partner of his heart, descended (so the legend said)<br /> +From the ancient Saxon monarchs, sank in shame her sunny head.<br /> +<br /> +From his friends—his growing glory—over dark and dangerous seas—<br /> +From his red-cross banner proudly flowing, floating on the breeze—<br /> +Over field and flood he traveled, flinging fame and honor by,<br /> +With a heart as full of hell as full of glory was the sky.<br /> +<br /> +All his mind became a chaos; but along its waste there stole<br /> +What his bloody purpose shook, and what was manna to his soul,—<br /> +Memories of his youthful moments, when through grassy glen and wood<br /> +He wandered with the Lady Gwineth, dreaming none so fair and good;<br /> +<br /> +And he saw her sweetly smiling, as when at her feet he knelt,<br /> +And with bold but modest manner on his burning passion dwelt—<br /> +Felt her fall upon his bosom—felt her tears upon his cheek,<br /> +As he felt them when his tongue was all too full of joy to speak!<br /> +<br /> +And his heart was slowly softening—when a hoarse voice bade him "yield!"<br /> +And a claymore clanked and clattered on the bosses of his shield;—<br /> +Rising round him, closing on him, sprang an ambush of his foe,<br /> +The despoiler of his honor! All his answer was a blow!<br /> +<br /> +All his soul was in his arm; and, as his foemen closed around,<br /> +Vassal after vassal, wounded, yelling, fell and bit the ground;<br /> +But when through the wood there rushed an hundred thronging to the fight,<br /> +Charging through them, still defying, Roland safety sought in flight.<br /> +<br /> +When the crimson sun descended, as the yellow moon arose,<br /> +Far and faint behind Sir Roland sank the slogan of his foes—<br /> +Far and faint, and waxing fainter, as he reached the forest sward,<br /> +Spreading round for many an acre, over the lands that owned him lord.<br /> +<br /> +Like a whirlwind on he hurried, though the storm was raging sore:<br /> +In his heart he carried torture: there was music in its roar—<br /> +Like a hurricane on he hurried, spurring on with loosened rein,<br /> +Till he checked his jaded courser on his old paternal plain.<br /> +<br /> +Clouds were scudding o'er the heavens; wild the tempest roared around;<br /> +And the very earth was shaking with the thunder's heavy sound;<br /> +But between the lightning flashes, frowning grimly, here and there,<br /> +Loomed his old ancestral castle, with its old ancestral air.<br /> +<br /> +There, the barbican—the draw-bridge—there, the ancient donjon-keep,<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +With its iron-banded portals—there, the moat in sullen sleep!—<br /> +Galloping onward, lo! he halted, for they kept strict watch and ward,<br /> +And his courser's clanking hoofs had roused the ever-wary guard.<br /> +<br /> +Loud above the increasing tempest rose the warder's threatening hail;<br /> +Louder rose the ringing answer from a lip that scorned to quail:<br /> +"Grey of Grey!" the warrior thundered, "he who fears nor bolt nor dart—<br /> +He who is your master, vassal—Roland of the Lion Heart!"<br /> +<br /> +Clanking, clattering, grating, slowly up the huge portcullis went,<br /> +And the draw-bridge over the moat creaking, shrieking, downward bent;<br /> +On his armor flashed the torch-light, over helmet, cuirass, shield,<br /> +With its <i>lion d' or couchant</i> upon a stainless <i>argent</i> field.<br /> +<br /> +Over rode he, frowning fiercely, throwing from him ruddy light,<br /> +Flashing, like a burning beacon, on his startled vassal's sight.<br /> +Rose the draw-bridge, fell the barrier, closed the oaken gates behind.<br /> +—All was silence save the roaring of the wild November wind.<br /> +<br /></div> + +<h3>PART II.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +In a lofty vaulted chamber, pillared, Gothic, full of gloom,<br /> +But that flashes of the fire-light fitfully fell athwart the room—<br /> +Ruddy gleams of fading fire-light, lighting many a bearded face,<br /> +On the fluted hangings woven—founders of her husband's race—<br /> +<br /> +On a carven couch in slumber lay the Lady Gwineth Grey,<br /> +Traces of a smile yet lingering on a cheek of rosy May—<br /> +On the softest velvet slumbering, in a mist of golden hair,<br /> +Trembling on her heaving bosom, and along her neck as fair.<br /> +<br /> +Seemed she like the Goddess Dian sleeping in some lonely wood,<br /> +Or a nun on convent pallet dreaming only what was good:<br /> +By her stood an outened flambeaux, from which, blue, and thin, and rare,<br /> +Stole a wave of trembling vapor, slowly melting into air.<br /> +<br /> +But the tapestry was lifted, and a form in steel array<br /> +Suddenly entered, and his coming drove the waning mist away.<br /> +Treading softly o'er the rushes Roland stept beside his bride,<br /> +In the passing of a moment standing at her couch's side.<br /> +<br /> +Like an angel seemed the lady, lying in her rosy rest;<br /> +Like a devil seemed the knight, with passion raging in his breast:<br /> +For within his bosom, gnawing all his heart with teeth of fire,<br /> +Reigned Revenge, and on his forehead burned the purple hue of ire.<br /> +<br /> +Slowly bending o'er his wife, but making not a sound, he gazed<br /> +Upon her, while his glaring eye-balls, like twin torches, brightly blazed.<br /> +—Starting, feeling one was near her, Gwineth raised her golden head,<br /> +Looking round her—flashed his falchion, and she sank in silence—dead!<br /> +<br /> +Roared the tempest; crashed the thunder; even the castle seemed to quail<br /> +And tremble, like a living thing, before the fury of the gale;<br /> +But the fierce and fearless murderer turned to where his child reclined,<br /> +Asleep, amid the thunder's crash, the rushing rain and roaring wind.<br /> +<br /> +As he bent above his boy, dim memories of days long back<br /> +Came, like stars an instant seen amid the autumn tempest's rack;<br /> +But as swiftly over his spirit flashed the ruin of his name—<br /> +Flashed the withering thought that even that child might be the child of shame.<br /> +<br /> +Wildly then he raised his glaive, but wilder, sterner, still, without,<br /> +Swelled the tempest, burst the thunder, yelled the winds with maniac shout;<br /> +While the lightning, red and vivid, quivered through the skies in ire,<br /> +Till the chamber with its flashes seemed a blazing hall of fire.<br /> +<br /> +With this climax of the tempest—thunder, lightning, rain and wind—<br /> +Roland felt an awful doubt creep tremblingly athwart his mind;<br /> +Slowly, slowly, it arose, and grew gigantic; slowly, slowly,<br /> +Cloud-like, overshadowing him, darkening his spirit wholly.<br /> +<br /> +Then, like Saul of Eld, he trembled, feeling his deed was one of guilt—<br /> +Believing heaven itself asserted it was innocent blood he spilt—<br /> +Feeling heaven was interfering, sank his heart, and fell his blade,<br /> +And the superstitious murderer tottered, wailing and dismayed.<br /> +<br /> +"Be she spotless," groaned the warrior, "I have done a grievous crime—<br /> +Stained the snowiest shield that ever graced the temple-walls of Time.<br /> +—Thou, my noblest and my fairest! with thy mother's Saxon eye—<br /> +Shall my hand, too, strike thee lifeless? No! I cannot see thee die!"<br /> +<br /> +Suddenly Roland saw the peril hanging over his guilty head—<br /> +Felt that he could never hide him from the vengeance of the dead—<br /> +Saw the heartless headsman smiling, and the axe, and heard the crowd<br /> +Shouting curses on the assassin—and the chieftain groaned aloud—<br /> +<br /> +Groaned, for that his deed had robbed him of a home and of a name,<br /> +Hurling on his orphan son the damning heritage of shame:<br /> +Life and lands by law were forfeit; he had driven his offspring forth,<br /> +Rudely, ruthlessly, to wander, one of the Ishmaelites of earth.<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +<br /> +But a sudden thought came o'er him, and his lofty eye again<br /> +Flashed with resolution, stern and strong as was his spirit's pain.<br /> +"Shall I rob thee of thy birthright—rob thee of thy noble name,<br /> +Of our old ancestral castle, and our fathers' deeds of fame?<br /> +<br /> +"Shall I fling thee forth to struggle with a never-sparing world;<br /> +Knowing every eye will scorn thee, every lip at thee be curled?<br /> +Know thee, budding bloom of beauty, withering in thy youth away—<br /> +Feel thy infant promise fading—see thy falcon-eye decay?<br /> +<br /> +"Did I give thee life to cloud it—life to poison every breath?<br /> +Better far the dreary dungeon, and the dark and iron death!<br /> +Never! Let them heap upon me rock on rock Olympus high;<br /> +None shall see a sinew quiver, none shall hear the slightest cry.<br /> +<br /> +"'Blood for blood' is rightly written: I have slain a spotless wife,<br /> +And will dree a heavy penance—yield the law my forfeit life;<br /> +Come the judgment, I will meet it; and the torture shall not tear<br /> +Word from me to make a beggar of my rightful, righteous heir."<br /> +<br /> +As the stricken knight was speaking, in the distance died the storm;<br /> +And the moonlight on the casement wandered sweetly, rested warm;<br /> +Through the golden glass it floated, fluttering over the lady's hair,<br /> +Till she seemed a mild Madonna, watched by angels, slumbering there.<br /> +<br /> +Shaken by the storm of conscience, Roland sank upon his knee,<br /> +Sudden as before a hurricane falls some famous forest tree;<br /> +Sank beside pale, placid Gwineth, weeping, wailing, sorrow riven,<br /> +Feeling God had spoken, praying that his crime might be forgiven.<br /> +<br /> +All that long and dreary night, Sir Roland watched beside the dead,<br /> +Humbly kneeling in the rushes strown around the carven bed.<br /> +Slowly, quietly approaching came the gray-eyed dreamy dawn,<br /> +Making every thing about him seem more desolate and wan.<br /> +<br /> +One by one the stars went out, and slowly over the Orient came<br /> +Streaks of rose and tints of purple, flakes of gold and rays of flame,<br /> +And around the ancient castle Roland heard the hum of those<br /> +That from quiet sleep were waking, as they, one by one, arose.<br /> +<br /> +Slowly through the painted casement, touching first the chamber crown<br /> +And the groined roof, the sunlight stole in lovely lustre down<br /> +Over the tapestry, that glistened, gleaming with its golden ray,<br /> +Till it kissed the russet rushes where in yellow sleep it lay.<br /> +<br /> +Came the Lady Gwineth's maidens, starting at the sudden sight<br /> +Of their lord, Sir Roland, standing like a warrior for the fight;<br /> +But he waved them on; and, wondering, they unto the sleeper went—<br /> +Shrieking loudly, shrieking wildly as above her corpse they bent.<br /> +<br /> +Startled by the sudden clamor, Roland's son in fright awoke,<br /> +As from all sides, madly rushing in the room, the vassals broke;<br /> +Gathering round him, gazing on him, looking on the bloody brand<br /> +And the lady, who, when living, was the loveliest in the land.<br /> +<br /> +Not a word the warrior uttered, though his son implored him sore,<br /> +And they led him like an infant toward the oaken chamber-door;<br /> +There he turned and gazed on Gwineth, looking on her face his last;<br /> +Then between his guards in silence to the castle-prison passed.<br /> +<br /> +There they left him; but at mid-day came, and, beckoning, bade him forth<br /> +To journey, not as he was wont to, from his ancient honored hearth:<br /> +To an armed guard they gave him, and amid their stern array,<br /> +Haughty, lofty-souled and silent Roland sternly rode away.<br /> +<br /></div> + +<h3>PART III.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +When the gathering gloom of night in swarthy shadows floated down<br /> +On the mountain and the forest, Roland saw the distant town:<br /> +O'er its walls, and round its towers, a dim and sickly lustre lay.<br /> +Like the gray and ghostly haze that heraldeth the dawning day.<br /> +<br /> +While, behind those walls and turrets, standing blackly in her light,<br /> +Full and large the lurid moon rose ghastily upon the night;<br /> +Shrouded in a cloud of crimson, slowly, slowly as he came<br /> +Rising higher, higher, higher, till the east was full of flame.<br /> +<br /> +As his guards approached the gates—did she sink or did they rise?<br /> +Behind the black gigantic towers the planet vanished from his eyes.<br /> +All without was solemn blackness, but within was drearier dark,<br /> +Save when from some grim old building stole a taper's trembling spark.<br /> +<br /> +Slowly through the lengthy streets, between old houses, rising high,<br /> +Over which, dark, dusk, sepulchral, bent the purple pall-like sky,<br /> +Through the town they bore him on, until frowningly, at last,<br /> +Rose the castle-walls before them, huge and massy, broad and vast.<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +<br /> +With a last look on the heavens, the knight rode on beneath the gate:<br /> +Stepping from his steed he bowed him, stately, to his fearful fate:<br /> +On his limbs they fastened fetters, cold! how cold! their chillness ran<br /> +Freezing through his blood, the spirit of the stern, unconquered man.<br /> +<br /> +Through a gallery they led him to a dark and dismal cell.<br /> +Where they left him. Sad and solemn, heavy, awful as a knell,<br /> +Seemed the fading of their footsteps, as he heard them slowly glide<br /> +Through the long and vaulted corridor till their very echo died.<br /> +<br /> +Days went by—days dark with anguish, for his conscience, like a spur,<br /> +Drove him o'er the wastes of memory which were never black before;<br /> +Weeks slid by, and months—such months! such bitter months of pungent pain,<br /> +That their very hours seemed serpents gnawing at his heart and brain.<br /> +<br /> +Next they led him him forth to trial: like a child he bowed and went,<br /> +With his once black hair like snow, and his stalwart form so bent,<br /> +And his beard so long and white, and his cheek so thin and wan,<br /> +Even his very keepers thought it was a ghost they gazed upon!<br /> +<br /> +When before his ermined judges, stately, silent, Roland came,<br /> +Over his cheek there flashed and faded, suddenly, a flash of flame:<br /> +Like a falling star it faded: lofty and erect he turned,<br /> +With the feeling that aroused it under his iron Will inurned.<br /> +<br /> +"Roland, Baron Grey!" the crier, in the ancient Latin tongue,<br /> +Which, like some old bell in tolling, through the vaulted building rung:—<br /> +Cold and stern the prisoner answered—cold and stern—devoid of fear—<br /> +Looking haughtily around him:—"Roland, Baron Grey, is here!"<br /> +<br /> +Muttering the solemn charge, they bade him answer; but he stood<br /> +Cold, and calm, and motionless, as though he were nor flesh nor blood,<br /> +But, rather, all a bronzed statue of the proud, primeval time—<br /> +In his silence self-devoted—in his very guilt sublime.<br /> +<br /> +Thrice they prayed him: while he listened, not a quiver on his brow,<br /> +Not the movement of a hair upon his head or beard of snow,<br /> +Not the motion of a lip, nor even the flutter of an eye,<br /> +Betokening that he even heard them—he was there alone to die.<br /> +<br /> +In the distant, dreary years, so run the legends even now—<br /> +Misty legends on whose summits slumber centuries of snow—<br /> +Lofty legends round whose summits clouds have lain for solemn ages—<br /> +Legends penned with iron pens in blood by Draco-minded sages—<br /> +<br /> +It was written, they should bear him to a dungeon under ground,<br /> +Far beneath the castle moat, where came no single human sound,<br /> +And unto the earth should chain him, naked, on the icy ground—<br /> +Naked, like the sage Prometheus, on the mountain's summit bound.<br /> +<br /> +Water—there was none for him, save that which flowed in the castle moat,<br /> +On whose green and slimy surface newts and mosses loved to float—<br /> +Bread—a crust a day—so, starving, freezing, there the Doomed was spread,<br /> +Pressed with weights of stone and iron till he answered or was dead.<br /> +<br /> +Did he answer guiltless, lo! the trial; guilty, lo! the axe;<br /> +Death before the grinning thousand! worse than were a myriad racks!<br /> +While the trial were an evil quite as grievous, quite as great,<br /> +For the verdict of his peers would rend from him his proud estate:<br /> +<br /> +But, if he died silent, then his lands would pass in quiet down<br /> +To bless his boy, his innocent boy, and not escheat unto the crown:<br /> +So he chose the darksome dungeon, rather there to die alone<br /> +Than by cowardly fear to steal the birthright of his orphan son.<br /> +<br /> +But, beside this, came the thought that, by this penance he might win<br /> +Forgiveness from offended Heaven for his now-repented sin.<br /> +"Noble Roland," quoth his judges, "answer, ere it be too late;<br /> +Heavy, else, must be our judgment—heavier thine awful fate."<br /> +<br /> +Then arose the ghostly knight, with his spectral eyes aflame,<br /> +While a more than mortal vigor coursed and circled through his frame;<br /> +And he gazed upon them smiling, and like hollow thunder broke<br /> +His accents on the swarthy silence:—thus and so the chieftain spoke:<br /> +<br /> +"Lords! I answer not. If guilty, God will judge my sinful soul:<br /> +For my body—that is yours! I yield it to your stern control.<br /> +Would you have me—me, a warrior, like a coward plead for life?<br /> +Death and I are old acquaintance! I have met him in the strife—<br /> +<br /> +"I have met him when the air was swooning with a ghastly fear;<br /> +When the Moslem swept before us, driven like a herd of deer;<br /> +When our voices mocked the thunder, shouting 'England and Saint George!'<br /> +And the lightning of our falchions fell like flashes from a forge!<br /> +<br /> +"There, amid the clash and clang of sword and shield, I strove with Death—<br /> +That I conquered, ye may see; and now I yield to him my breath—<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +Where there is no rescue, yield! and, as one would call a bride,<br /> +So I bid the grisly monarch smilingly unto my side.<br /> +<br /> +"Shall I yield my broad estates, my castles and my manor lands,<br /> +To the harpies of the law, to hold them with unhallowed hands?<br /> +Shall I send my youthful heir forth with a stain upon his crest?<br /> +No! my eaglet yet shall reign an eagle in his parent nest.<br /> +<br /> +"Lords and judges, I have done: no further words shall pass my lips,<br /> +Save prayers to Heaven, that my soul may, sun-like, rise from death's eclipse."<br /> +Silently, he braved them still; and, sighing, sad, and full of gloom,<br /> +His judges sent him forth to struggle with the sharp and lingering doom.<br /> +<br /> +Did he tremble at their sentence? Not a muscle quivered, not<br /> +A sign to mark he heard, save on his cheek one purple spot:<br /> +Statelier yet than ever, firmer, with a long triumphant breath,<br /> +Roland, smiling on his judges, sternly walked to certain death.<br /> +<br /></div> + +<h3>PART IV.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +In his cell the knight is lying, naked, fettered foot and hand;<br /> +Bound unto the rocky ground with many an iron link and band;<br /> +On him lie the piles of granite, pressing, pressing; yet he still<br /> +Looks on death with lofty eye—so giant is his mighty will.<br /> +<br /> +Day by day, he lay and suffered, wrung with agony, but content—<br /> +Day by day, though hard to bear was his grievous punishment—<br /> +Never once, though, hour on hour, they piled the jagged granite higher<br /> +On his quivering limbs, he murmured; yet his very veins were fire.<br /> +<br /> +Once, however, came his jailer, saying that his nephew sought<br /> +His presence; and the knight, consenting, in his brother's son was brought:<br /> +"Uncle Roland," quoth he, weeping, "what is this that I have done?<br /> +Curses, curses on my head! curse, uncle, curse thy brother's son!<br /> +<br /> +Mine the tongue that wrought this evil—mine the false and slanderous tongue<br /> +That done to death the Lady Gwineth—O! my soul is sadly wrung!"<br /> +"Demon, devil!" groaned the warrior—"devil of the evil eye!<br /> +Look upon the awful horror wrought by thy atrocious lie.<br /> +<br /> +Tell me? was it all a falsehood? Tell me, was it all—all—all?<br /> +Speak! and let these prison walls, oppressed with horror, on thee fall!"<br /> +"All was false! Mine, too the ambush; for I sought to grasp thy lands—<br /> +Sought to win the Lady Gwineth, with thy blood upon my hands.<br /> +<br /> +But she drove me forth with scorn; and then I coined the lying tale—<br /> +O! forgive me, Uncle Roland! give me leave to weep and wail;<br /> +Give me leave to sit in sackcloth, heaping ashes on my head;<br /> +Mourning in some craggy cavern for the early lost and dead."<br /> +<br /> +"Unexampled liar and traitor! first of all our noble name<br /> +Guilty of so black a treason! first to stain our shield with shame!<br /> +Hence! away! I—No! repent! begone! and pray for my repose:<br /> +Life on both of us too soon for our grievous crimes will close.<br /> +<br /> +I forgive thee—now away—nay, do not touch me! I am wan—<br /> +Sick with suffering—mad with anguish—Go!" The penitent man is gone.<br /> +—Once again he lies alone, save his agony, alone;<br /> +Then they come and pile upon him heavier weights of iron and stone.<br /> +<br /> +Still more pallid, at the even, Roland in his anguish lay,<br /> +Wrestling, for his soul was strong, with his body's slow decay;<br /> +And the sweat upon his forehead stood and rolled and fell like rain,<br /> +Cold, while pain and fire and fever battled in his heart and brain.<br /> +<br /> +Now and then his senses wandered; now again his mind was calm,<br /> +And he wrung from out his suffering penitential draughts of balm;<br /> +Then again his senses left him, and he lay in phrenzy there,<br /> +Talking wildly in his madness with the dim, impalpable air.<br /> +<br /> +Now, he saw the Lady Gwineth wandering in her maiden joy;<br /> +Now, he viewed her in her chamber frolic with her baby boy;<br /> +Now, he saw her sadly lying, all her bosom bathed with blood;<br /> +And beheld himself as o'er her on that fatal night he stood.<br /> +<br /> +Was he dreaming? through his dungeon stole a pale purpureal light,<br /> +Flowing round him, floating round him, making daylight of its night;<br /> +In its midst, his gentle Gwineth, while around her brow there flowed,<br /> +Fluttering flame, a golden halo! that with heavenly glory glowed.<br /> +<br /> +Did he hear her? Was it real? With an angel's voice she spoke:<br /> +How the words, like flakes of music, silver music! sweetly broke,<br /> +Round and round him! how they floated, ringing in his ravished ears,<br /> +Like the notes of Memnon's lyre, or chantings from the distant spheres!<br /> +<br /> +"Coming, Roland, from that heaven where, though clad with light, I sigh<br /> +And languish for the softer lustre of thy gentle loving eye,<br /> +I await thee, singing, singing hymns to cheer thy dying hour<br /> +That the Cherubim sang in Eden when it first arose in flower.<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +<br /> +Hearken! how my notes are mingling—one by one, and two by two,<br /> +Dropping on thy brain as falls on fading roses freshening dew;<br /> +Three by three, they upward circle: thou hast heard them in thy dreams,<br /> +When I came, a missioned spirit, from the four eternal streams.<br /> +<br /> +I can see them, though thine eyes can only compass earthly vision:<br /> +Soon, O, Roland! soon, O, Roland! thou shalt see with eyes elysian:<br /> +Then the notes that now thou hearest thou shalt see, as on they flow,—<br /> +Angels that are rarest air! and view them through their dances go."<br /> +<br /> +Still, entranced, the sufferer listened; and it seemed as from his pain<br /> +Sweeter music yet was born, for holier hymning lulled his brain;<br /> +Very wild his agony; very; but between its bars his eyes<br /> +Saw the angels as they wandered on the walls of Paradise.<br /> +<br /> +Faint and fainter grew he, while the melody loud and louder rang,<br /> +Till it seemed not only Gwineth but a myriad angels sang;<br /> +And his soul seemed rising, rising, rising from his pallid clay,<br /> +Which, each moment, grew more feeble—faintlier wrestling with decay.<br /> +<br /> +Burst upon his ears one swell! it seemed an anthem of the spheres,<br /> +Jubilant, divinely ringing; swam his eyes with happy tears—<br /> +"Come, forgiven one," the cadence, "chastened spirit, come, arise<br /> +From thine earthly prison-house to holy homes beyond the skies."<br /> +<br /> +Fainter, fainter, still more feeble, grew the sufferer as he heard,<br /> +And a sigh swooned on the silence, soft as breathing of a bird,—<br /> +And all was over. In his trance his spirit's sparkling feet had trod<br /> +The realms of space, and gone from earth, through air, to judgment and to God.<br /> +<br /></div> + +<h3>NOTES.</h3> + + +<p>The judgment of the <i>peine forte et dure</i>, on an instance +of which our ballad is founded, was well known in the ancient +law of England. As has been seen, it was terribly +severe. The circumstances of the judgment were as follows: +When a prisoner stood charged with an offence, and +an indictment had been found against him, before he could +be tried he was called upon to answer, or, in technical parlance, +to plead. A plea in bar is an answer, either affirming +or denying the offence charged in the indictment, or, if of a +dilatory character, showing some ground why the defendant +should not be called upon to answer at all. In +those days, in all capital cases, the estates of the criminal, on +conviction and judgment, were forfeited to the crown. +The blood of the offender was considered as corrupted, and, +as a consequence, his property could not pass to his family, +who, although innocent, suffered for the faults of the +criminal. Crimes, therefore, where the punishment fell, not +only on the criminal but on his family, were comparatively +of rare occurrence. An admission of guilt produced the +same effect as a conviction. If the defendant, however, +stood mute, obstinately refusing to answer, by which +behaviour he preserved his estates to his family, he was +sentenced to undergo the judgment of the <i>peine forte et +dure</i>.</p> + +<p>"The English judgment of penance for standing mute," +says Chief Justice Blackstone, in his admirable Commentaries, +"was as follows: That the prisoner be remanded +to the prison from whence he came, and put into a low, +dark chamber; and there be laid on his back, naked, unless +where decency forbids: that there be placed upon his body +as great a weight of iron as he could bear and more; that +he have no sustenance, save only on the first day, three +morsels of the worst bread; and, on the second day, three +draughts of standing water, that should be nearest to the +prison door; and in this situation this should be alternately +his daily diet <i>till he died</i>, or (as anciently the judgement ran) +<i>till he answered</i>."</p> + +<p>With respect to this horrid judgment, Christian, in his +notes to the same work, goes on to say: that "the prosecutor +and the court could exercise no discretion, or show +no favour to a prisoner who stood obstinately mute." "In +the legal history of this country," (England,) he continues, +"are numerous instances of persons who have had resolution +and patience to undergo so terrible a death in order +to benefit their heirs by preventing a forfeiture of their +estates, which would have been a consequence of a conviction +by a verdict. There is a memorable story of an +ancestor of an ancient family in the north of England. In +a fit of jealousy he killed his wife; and put to death his +children who were at home, by throwing them from the +battlements of his castle; and proceeding with an intent to +destroy his only remaining child, an infant nursed at a +farm-house at some distance, he was intercepted by a storm +of thunder and lightning. This awakened in his breast +compunction of conscience. He desisted from his purpose, +and having surrendered himself to justice, in order to +secure his estates to this child, he had the resolution to die +under the dreadful judgment of the <i>peine forte et dure</i>." +This tale is the base of our romance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SEA_NYMPHS_SONG" id="THE_SEA_NYMPHS_SONG"></a>THE SEA NYMPH'S SONG.</h2> + +<h4>BY WILLIAM H. C. HOSMER.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Sound is he sleeping<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Far under the wave—</span><br /> +Sea nymphs are keeping<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A watch for the brave:</span><br /> +Deep was our grief and wild—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wilder our dirge</span><br /> +When the doomed ocean child<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Drowned in the surge.</span><br /> +<br /> +Within a bright chamber<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His form we have laid;</span><br /> +With spar, pearl and amber<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The walls are arrayed—</span><br /> +Though high rolls the billow<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He wakes not at morn,</span><br /> +And sponge for his pillow<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From rocks we have torn.</span><br /> +<br /> +I heard thy name spoken<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When down came the mast;</span><br /> +His hold was then broken,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That <i>word</i> was his last.</span><br /> +A picture is lying,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lorn maid! on his breast—</span><br /> +That picture in dying<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His hand closely prest.</span><br /> +<br /> +Why turns thy cheek paler<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These tidings to know?</span><br /> +The truth of thy sailor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Should lessen thy wo:</span><br /> +The wave could not chill it<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That stifled his breath;</span><br /> +Pure <i>love</i>—can aught kill it?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Give answer, Oh, Death!</span><br /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_GOLD-FISH" id="THE_LITTLE_GOLD-FISH"></a>THE LITTLE GOLD-FISH.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +<h3>A FAIRY TALE.</h3> + +<h4>BY JAMES K. PAULDING, AUTHOR OF THE "DUTCHMAN'S FIRESIDE," ETC.</h4> + + +<p>In the reign of good King Doddipol, surnamed the +Gnatsnapper, there lived in a stately castle, on the top +of a high mountain, a rich old Norseman, who had +an only son whom he loved with great ardor, and +little discretion, on account of his being the last of an +illustrious family. The youth was called Violet, +partly because he had for his godmother the Fairy +Violetta, and partly on account of having on his left +shoulder an impression of that flower, so perfectly +defined, and so vivid in color, that the old nurse mistook +it at first sight for a real violet, and declared it +smelled like a nosegay.</p> + +<p>Being the only son of a great and rich nobleman, +as well as somewhat indolent and unambitious, Violet +passed much of his time, while growing up to manhood, +in thinking much and doing nothing. He was +without companions, having no equals around him, +and was prohibited from associating with his inferiors +by the strict etiquette which prevailed throughout the +dominions of good King Doddipol. As he grew up +thus in almost entire solitude his temperament became +highly poetical and imaginative, his feelings irregular +and ardent, and it was predicted that some day or +other he would become a martyr to love.</p> + +<p>Much of his time was spent in lonely rambles +among the mountains which surrounded the residence +of the Old Man of the Hills, as he was called, a distance +of many miles in every direction, and one summer +day, wandering on without knowing or caring +whither he went, he at length found himself in a +region where he had never been before. It was a +deep, sequestered, rocky dell, shaded by gloomy +pines, from the farther extremity of which there tumbled +a bright cascade of snow-white foam, which, +after forming a deep transparent basin at its foot, +escaped murmuring among the rocks below and disappeared. +Not a sound was heard but that of the +falling waters and the gurgling stream, for the birds +delight not in the gloom of perpetual shade, and neither +hunter nor woodman ever visited this lonely retreat.</p> + +<p>Tired with his long ramble, Violet sat down at the +foot of a lofty tree, whose roots seemed to drink of +the crystal basin, and fell into a deep reverie, during +which his eyes were fixed unconsciously on the transparent +water, which, though clear as our northern +lakes, was so deep that no one could see the bottom. +While thus occupied in weaving webs of youthful +anticipation, he saw a little gold-fish suddenly dart +from under the rock on which he was seated, and +play around with infinite grace, quivering its fins and +fanning its tail, while their bright colors glittered in +the rippling water with indescribable brilliancy.</p> + +<p>The youth watched its motions with increasing +interest, and an eagerness he had never experienced +before. Sometimes it would come up +close to the spot, almost within reach of his hand, +and after balancing on the surface awhile, again dart +away, only to return and play a thousand fantastic +gambols, full of vivacity and grace. At other times +it would remain stationary awhile, looking him in +the face with its mellow, melancholy eyes, and an +expression of sorrowful tenderness that sunk into his +heart. He remained watching its motions in deep +solicitude, until the gathering shadows of twilight +warned him away, and reached home so late that he +found his father anxiously awaiting his return. The +Old Man of the Hills inquired of him where he had +been, and what had detained him so long; but he +answered evasively, being ashamed to confess he had +been fascinated by a little gold-fish.</p> + +<p>That night he could think of nothing but the little +gold-fish, and when at length sleep came over his eyelids, +he dreamed it was a beautiful princess, transformed +by the power of some wicked enchanter or +malignant fairy. The impression was so vivid in +his mind, that when he awoke he could not decide +whether it was indeed a dream, or whether he had +not actually seen the charming princess, whose features +were indelibly impressed on his memory. The +next morning he again sought the path he had traveled +the day before, and about mid-day arrived at the glen +of the shining cascade. He had scarcely seated himself, +when the little gold-fish darted from under the +rock as before, and winning its way to the surface of +the crystal basin, looked at him with an expression +of its beautiful eyes that spoke a joyful welcome. +Violet put forth his hand, and tried to woo it still +nearer, but it only gave a melancholy shake of the +head, and when he attempted to seize it, retired beyond +his reach with a lingering hesitation that seemed +to indicate a mingled desire and apprehension.</p> + +<p>Thus the little creature continued to coquette with +him for several days during which he repeated his +visits, staying all day, and dreaming every night the +same dream of the beautiful princess changed into a +little gold-fish. While absent from the crystal basin, +his imagination was forever dwelling on the form and +features of the princess, and the mysterious connection +he was convinced subsisted between his waking +thoughts and experience and his nightly dreams. By +degrees the two became inseparably associated together +in his mind, and insensibly he fell in love to +distraction, but whether with the beautiful princess +or the little gold-fish he could not decide. He became +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +so melancholy in consequence that the latter, as if +conscious of his feelings, permitted him to take it in +his hand, kiss it, and nestle it in his bosom at pleasure. +At such times he would beseech it in the most +moving terms to speak to him, tell him if his dreams +were true, and respond to his devoted affection. But +it only replied by a silent tear, and a look of strange +meaning, which he could not comprehend.</p> + +<p>Violet grew every day more sad, and his youthful +form continued to waste away, so that as he walked +in the sun, his shadow could scarcely be seen. During +this period the behavior of the little gold-fish was so +full of inconsistencies and contradictions that Violet +was well nigh distracted. Sometimes it would contemplate +his pale cheek and wasted form with tears +in its eyes, while at the next moment it looked at him +with an expression of unfeeling triumph. Then its +eyes would glance rapidly and eagerly, sometimes +toward himself, at others down on the crystal basin, +and at others upward to the skies.</p> + +<p>One bright morning, when the position of the sun +toward the east had become gradually changed, and +the beams of the former fell directly upon the crystal +basin, Violet was sitting, as usual, fondling the little +gold-fish in his hand, admiring its soft hazel eyes, and +addressing a thousand endearments to the little dumb +creature, which at that moment appeared insensible +to his affection. Keeping its eyes earnestly fixed on +the transparent waters, which now glittered in the +golden beams of the sun, the youth suddenly felt it +tremble as if with ecstasy in his hand, as with a sudden +spring it vaulted into the basin and instantly disappeared. +He gazed with intense anxiety, expecting +every moment it would reappear; but it returned no +more, and after waiting in vain, until dusky twilight +enveloped the glen in shadows, he bent his way +homeward, scarcely conscious whither he was going. +That night he slept from the mere weariness of sorrow, +and dreamed the beautiful princess appeared to +thank and bless him for her disenchantment.</p> + +<p>The next day the Old Man of the Hills called his +son before him, and announced with great satisfaction +that he had just concluded a treaty of marriage between +him and the oldest daughter of King Doddipol, +a lady of great discretion, and old enough to be his +mother. The young man quitted the presence of his +father in despair, and, scarcely conscious of whither +he was wandering, sought the crystal basin at the foot +of the shining cascade. Here, seated on the rock, he +gazed himself almost blind, in the hope of seeing the +little gold-fish once more appear, to receive his last +farewell. But he gazed in vain for hours, and hours, +until in the bitterness of disappointment he at length +cried out aloud—"It is all in vain. It will come no +more, and nothing is now left me but a remembrance +carrying with it eternal regrets. But one hope remains. +I will seek my adored princess, for such I +know she is, where she disappeared from my sight, +and either find her or a grave." Saying this he +plunged into the basin in an agony of despair.</p> + +<p>He continued to sink, as it appeared to him, for +nearly half an hour, without once drawing his breath, +until, just as he felt himself quite exhausted, he found +himself precipitated into what seemed a new world, +far more beautiful than that he had just abandoned. +The skies were of a deeper blue, and being likewise +far more transparent, reflected the features of the lower +world as in a vast illimitable mirror. There was no +sun visible in the heavens. Yet a soft, delicious +mellow light, more rich and yet more gentle than +that of summer twilight, diffused itself everywhere, +giving to every object the charm of distance, and +giving to the air a genial warmth inexpressibly grateful. +The meadows seemed like endless waving seas +of verdure, and together with the foliage of the woods, +exhibited all the freshness of the new-born spring; +the little warbling birds seemed to revel among the +groves and verdant meads in joyous luxury, filling the +air with their melodious concert; the meadows were +sprinkled with beds of flowers of various hues and +fragrance, and a thousand delicious odors gave zest +to every breath he drew. Vast fields of violets, most +especially, were spread out in every direction, larger +and more beautiful than any he had ever seen before. +A gentle river meandered deep and clear through a +long valley spread out before him, skirted on either +side by pale blue hills, so high they seemed to reach +and mingle with the heavens above. A cool, refreshing +zephyr played about his brow, and as he breathed +its inspiring odors, Violet felt himself suddenly restored +to all his wonted vigor and activity.</p> + +<p>As he stood gazing in almost stupefied wonder at +the scene before him, and doubtful whether it was +merely a creation of his bewildered fancy, he perceived +a radiant female form approaching, seated in +a chariot formed of a single violet, and crowned with +a diadem of the same flowers. Her dress, too, was +composed of many-colored violets, and her chariot +drawn by butterflies, whose wings of gold and purple +were of glorious lustre. The chariot stood still on +coming up to the youth; the lady springing out, +lighted on the flowers without ruffling their leaves, +and giving him her tiny hand addressed him as follows:</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Prince Violet, for such you are by +birth, and by my creation. I was the friend of your +mother. I presided at your birth, and I gave you +your name. I therefore feel in some measure responsible +for your happiness, and am come hither to +give you the benefit of my advice and assistance. +Know, my prince, that you are brought here by a +destiny you could not avoid. You are in the dominions, +I might almost say in the power of the +wicked enchanter Curmudgeon, who is as potent as +he is wicked. Among his other diabolical acts, he is +an adept in the new science of animal magnetism, +can put you to sleep by the waving of his hand, pull +out your teeth without your knowing any thing about +it, and divorce your spirit from your body, sending it +wandering away to distant regions, while the body +remains unconscious though not inanimate. In short, +there is no end to his wicked devices, and he is the +most mischievous, malignant monster in the world, +inexorable in his revenge, and clothed with the power +of gratifying it to its utmost extent. It is to warn you +against him that I am here. My name is Violetta."</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> + +<p>The prince, as he must now be called, listened to +this speech with great gravity and decorum, though +he thought it rather long, and replied with infinite discretion. +He thanked the fairy for her kind intentions, +and concluded by observing that he had often, when a +child, heard his mother speak of the Fairy Violetta +with great affection.</p> + +<p>"Your mother was a woman of taste," said the +fairy, "but there is not a moment to be lost, for the +enchanter is by this time apprized of your coming, +and the purport of your visit. Do not ask me what +that is. It is sufficient that you are here to fulfill your +destiny."</p> + +<p>The fairy then stamped three times with her little +foot on a bed of violets. At the first stamp there rose +out of the ground a superb suit of violet-colored +armor; at the second a sword and spear; and at the +third a gallant violet-colored steed richly caparisoned.</p> + +<p>"Take these, arm thyself, mount, and away. You +will meet with many obstacles in your course, but +you have nothing to fear so long as you fear nothing. +Your first enemy will be a little mischievous caitiff, +called Master Whipswitchem, a creature of the +wicked enchanter; your second a monstrous giant; +your third a beautiful spectre, and your fourth the +enchanter himself. The first you must circumvent +by your wit; the second by your valor; the third by +your self-command; and the fourth by your promptitude +and sagacity. There is no magic in your +weapons, though they are equally good and true. +Your dependence must be on yourself alone; on your +valor, your constancy, and your cause; and remember, +that should you ever turn your back on an +enemy, whether man, beast, or fiend, your happy +destiny will never be accomplished. You will never +see your little gold-fish again.</p> + +<p>"My little gold-fish!" exclaimed the prince eagerly—"What +dost thou mean? O tell me, most beneficent +fairy!"</p> + +<p>"You will know in good time, if you do not turn +recreant," answered the fairy, with a significant +smile. "But away, away, my prince. Mount and +away. Follow the course of the river, and once more, +never turn aside let what will be before you, remembering +that nothing is impossible to courage, conduct, +and perseverance in a good cause."</p> + +<p>The prince bowed himself before the lady, repeated +his grateful thanks, mounted his neighing steed, which +pawed the ground impatiently, and was about clapping +spurs to his sides, when the fairy suddenly stopped +him.</p> + +<p>"Hold, prince! I had almost forgotten. Take this +bouquet of violets, place it in your bosom, and guard +it well. But be careful not to draw it forth except in +the last extremity, depending always on your valor +and your sword. When your life shall hang suspended +by a single hair; when the last breath is +quivering on thy lips, and all other means fail, +then, and not till then, use it as your instinct may +direct. Adieu, my prince—be faithful, bold and fortunate."</p> + +<p>The fairy mounted her chariot, the butterflies spread +their gorgeous wings, and ascending rapidly through +the transparent skies the whole pageant disappeared. +The prince lost not a moment in pursuing the course +pointed out by the fairy, and as he proceeded, gradually +fell into a reverie, the subject of which was the +hint that it would depend on himself whether he ever +saw the little gold-fish again. The thought roused +him to the utmost height of daring, and he resolved, +come what might, nothing should be wanting on his +part to the accomplishment of a glorious and happy +destiny. He fell himself suddenly animated by this +determination to gain a noble prize by noble exertions, +for nothing is more certain than that none but +groveling, abject beings, to whom nature has denied +the ordinary faculties of mind, can remain insensible +to the excitement of glory, or the rewards of +love.</p> + +<p>He had not, however, proceeded far, when on a +sudden there alighted on the head of his steed, right +between the ears, one of the most extraordinary creatures +he had ever seen. It was a little imp, about +three feet high, exactly resembling one of those scarecrows +we sometimes see in corn-fields, except that +it was a great deal more <i>outre</i> in its form and dimensions. +It wore an immense hat, of the shape of a +cullender, and with almost as many holes, through +which protruded little wisps of straw instead of +feathers. The face was perfectly undefinable, having +neither dimensions nor shape, resembling nothing of +the live human species, and consisting apparently +entirely of a nose which projected several inches beyond +the brim of his hat; his shirt-collar was tied +with a piece of rope; his jacket was as much too +short as his breeches were too long, one being out at +the elbows, the other at the knees, the latter of which +were tied with a wisp of straw tortured into a true +lover's knot; his legs seemed nothing but a pair of +short broom-sticks, of neither shape nor substance, +ensconced in an old pair of spatterdashes; and the +toes of his shoes curled upward like a pair of old-fashioned +skates. Altogether he cut a curious figure, +and the prince could not help laughing at his new +traveling companion. "This," thought he, "must +be Master Whipswitchem."</p> + +<p>But his gallant steed did not seem to enter into the +spirit of the joke. He pricked his ears, pawed the +ground, snorted, champed and foamed, and finally +stood stock still, trembling like a leaf. Prince Violet +began to wax somewhat impatient. Yet at length +said to him very courteously—</p> + +<p>"My friend, if it is the same thing to you, I had +rather you would get off and walk."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my friend, but if it's the same thing +to you, I'd rather ride. Ho-ho! ha-hah!" and thereupon +he laughed like a whole swarm of flies.</p> + +<p>Then the valiant prince drew his sword and gave +Master Whipswitchem a great blow under the short-ribs, +which he took it for granted would cut him in +two; but the sword rebounded as if it had struck on +an empty bladder, while the little imp only bounded +upward about three yards, alighting in the same place +as before, and crying out, "Ho-ho! hah-hah!" At +this rate, thought Prince Violet, I shall never get to +the end of my journey. Still he repeated his blows, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +at each one of which the pestiferous little imp only +jumped higher and laughed louder, and the gallant +steed only snorted, pawed, and stamped more vehemently, +until both steed and master became quite exhausted. +The latter then resorted to artifice, seeing +that force was unavailing. So putting up his sword, +he affected to expostulate with his troublesome companion +on the impropriety of his conduct, watching +at the same time for an opportunity of laying hold of +him. When he seemed off his guard, and was crying +"Ho-ho! ha-hah!" with infinite glee, the prince suddenly +throwing himself forward, seized him by the +long nose, and after holding him up kicking in the +air for a few moments—for he was as light as a +feather—with a sudden jerk pitched him away out +into the river, where, after bobbing up and down +some half a dozen times, and crying "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" +he disappeared. "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" cried the +prince, "I think I have done Master Whipstichem's +business this time." After which he proceeded gayly +on his journey.</p> + +<p>Before, however, he had time to enjoy the victory, +his gallant steed suddenly began to rear up before, +and then to kick up behind with great violence. The +prince clapped his hand on his trusty blade, thinking +he was approaching the giant, but on looking round +in every direction could see neither castle nor draw-bridge. +Indeed nothing visible seemed to justify the +horse in his unseemly gambols, and the prince accused +his gallant steed of being in league with his enemies, +when happening to look over his shoulder, who +should he see but Master Whipswitchem seated +quietly on the crupper, and spurring away with an +old rusty nail he had fixed in the heel of his shoe, +while he held by the horse's tail for a bridle. "I +swear by the eyes of my beautiful gold-fish," cried +the prince, "but this is too bad!" And then he attempted +to dislodge the pestilent imp, by thrusting his +elbow into his back; but the little caitiff every time +bounced up like a tennis-ball, and the next instant +was in his seat, crying, "Ho-ho! ha-ha!" louder than +ever. This time he was too cunning for the prince; +for knowing by experience that his nose was the +most exposed part of his outworks, he kept his back +to the prince, and his face toward the tail of the +horse. At the expiration of an hour the prince became +so worried that he could scarcely lift his hand +to his head, and his horse so exhausted that he could +kick no more. At length, however, while the little +caitiff was spurring and laughing away with great +glee, the prince turning suddenly round on the saddle, +seized the rope which he wore round his neck for a +cravat, and leaping from his steed, hoisted him up to +an old sign-post at the road-side, where he left him +dangling in the air. "Ho-ho! ha-ha!" said the prince, +"I think I shall have no more trouble with Master +Whipswitchem."</p> + +<p>Finding himself as well as his steed quite exhausted, +and both requiring rest and refreshment, Prince +Violet dismounted in a pleasant, shady grove, through +which meandered a clear stream, bordered by rich, +luxuriant grass, thus furnishing both drink and food to +the panting animal, whom, having turned loose, he left +to roam at will. Seating himself among a bed of fragrant +flowers, he lighted a cigar, and sat smoking +and thinking of his future prospects.</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho! ha-hah! my prince, what are you about? +You put me in mind of a smoking chimney, though +from your mighty contented look, I should suppose +you were very pleasantly occupied. I should like to +take a puff too, if you have no objection."</p> + +<p>"O, beneficent Fairy Violetta," exclaimed the +prince, "what shall I do with this pestiferous caitiff, +who minds neither hanging nor drowning?" And thereupon +the fairy, who doubtless heard his adjuration, +inspired him with a lucky thought. Knowing that +the little caitiff was but a man of straw, animated by +the wicked enchanter, he at once resolved to take +advantage of that circumstance.</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho! ha-hah! are you there, my friend?" replied +the prince. "Well, I see there is no use in +quarreling with such a pleasant fellow. Come, sit +down, and take a puff with me, and let us swear +eternal friendship."</p> + +<p>"Agreed!" replied the little caitiff, briskly. "It is +true you played a joke or two on me, but I flatter +myself, on the whole, I paid you beforehand; and for +the present the account is pretty well balanced."</p> + +<p>So they sat down and smoked very sociably together, +talking about various matters, until the little +caitiff's cigar being burnt to a stump, and somewhat +incommoding his long nose, he began turning and +twisting it about, until it set fire to some blades of +straw that projected from his nostrils, which straight-way +communicated to his head, and thence to his +body, and in a moment he was in full blaze.</p> + +<p>"I am a gone sucker!" exclaimed he, and the +words were scarcely out of his mouth when, he became +nothing but a heap of black ashes.</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho! ha-hah!" quoth the prince, "if he is a +gone sucker, I take it for granted, it is all Dicky with +Master Whipswitchem." And then, himself and his +horse being sufficiently refreshed, he mounted and +rode forward on his journey.</p> + +<p>Ascending a high, wearisome hill, he saw at a little +distance a great and magnificent castle, which he at +once took for that of the enchanter Curmudgeon. +The crisis of his fate was then at hand; and after inspecting +his armor and equipments, the prince spurred +on briskly to consummate his destiny. A few moments +brought him to a tower, at the end of a draw-bridge, +where hung an enormous bell, which, without hesitating +a moment, he rung till it resounded far and +near. Instantly at the sound there rose up from the +inner side, a monstrous and deformed giant, upward +of sixteen feet high. As he advanced, he seemed all +body and no legs—the latter being utterly disproportioned +to the former; his shoulders rose like mountains, +one higher than the other, almost to the top of +his head; his body was all over covered with impenetrable +scales like an alligator, and he wore on his +head an old Continental cocked-hat, from which projected +a queue of such unaccountable length that it +was said nobody ever saw the end of it. But his most +atrocious feature was a great proboscis, growing just +over a little pug nose, he used for smelling, about the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +size of that of an elephant, which it exactly resembled +in strength and elasticity.</p> + +<p>"What want you here?" roared the monster, in a +voice so loud and horrible, that it set the bell tinkling, +and in a most discourteous manner peculiar to giants, +who are notorious for their ill manners.</p> + +<p>"I wish to see the far-famed and puissant enchanter, +the great Curmudgeon, with whom I have a bone to +pick, an please your worship," replied the prince, +with infinite politeness.</p> + +<p>"You see him—what good will that do? He would +not look at, much less speak to, such a sloppy +stripling as you. To the right-about—march! or I'll +make mince-meat of you in less than no time."</p> + +<p>"Stand aside, and let me pass!" cried the enraged +prince, drawing his sword.</p> + +<p>"Advance at your peril!" roared the giant, twirling +his proboscis, and twisting his long queue like a great +black-snake.</p> + +<p>And now commenced a battle, the like of which is +not recorded in history, tradition, or romance. The +sword of the valiant prince gleamed, and flashed, and +flew about like lightning, raining such a shower of +dry blows on the monster, that had not his hide been +invulnerable to any but enchanted weapons, he would +in good time have been a gone sucker, as Sir Bruin +said. The giant, on the other hand, had managed his +proboscis with admirable skill, his great object being +to entwine the prince in its folds, and squeeze him to +death. Sometimes he would stretch it out at least six +yards, and at others draw it in suddenly, in hopes the +prince would be deceived as to its length, and come +within the sphere of its action. But the prince being +gloriously seconded by his gallant steed, displayed an +activity fully equal to the craft of the giant; and for +an hour at least the fight continued doubtful. The +only vulnerable part of the monster was his long +queue, which the prince, in hopes that, like Sampson, +his strength might peradventure lie in his hair, by an +adroit manœuvre cut off about six feet from his head. +Thereupon he roared like ten thousand bulls of Bashan, +insomuch that the enchanter, Curmudgeon, feared he +was vanquished, and trembled in the recesses of his +castle.</p> + +<p>The giant frantic with rage at the loss of what he +was more vain of than even his stately proboscis, +now redoubled his efforts, while the prince every moment +became more exhausted, and his gallant steed +ceased his usual activity. The giant seeing this, +watched his opportunity, till he at length succeeded +in throwing a slipping noose, made by twisting his +proboscis over the head of the prince. This he +gradually tightened with all his force, until the prince +perceived himself rapidly suffocating. His eyes failed +him, and seemed bursting from their orbits; his vision +presented nothing but gleams of many colored lights +dancing before him; his heart heaved and panted with +throes of desperate agony; his arm became almost +nerveless, and his sword fell from his hand, while +the shouts of the giant announced that the victory +was won.</p> + +<p>At this moment of extreme peril, when the last +gleam of consciousness lingered in his brain, the +prince recollected the bouquet of violets which he +still carried in his bosom, and drawing it forth with a +desperate effort, thrust it into the little pug nose of the +giant, which was directly before him. That instant +the proboscis relaxed, as if by magic, and the giant +suddenly untwining its folds, commenced a fit of +sneezing, awful to hear, jumping up several feet from +the ground at every paroxysm, swearing at intervals +like a trooper, and cutting the most enormous capers. +The moment Prince Violet recovered himself sufficiently, +he dismounted, and regaining his trusty +sword, belabored the impenetrable hide of the egregious +monster with such arrant good will, that he retreated +backward between every fit of sneezing, until +finally falling into the moat, he stuck fast in the mud, +sneezing and roaring most vociferously.</p> + +<p>Prince Violet lost no time, but passed swiftly into +the castle, and proceeding through several apartments, +far more vast and magnificent than the palace of King +Doddipol, at length came to the study where the +wicked enchanter practiced Mesmerism, and other +diabolical devices. The old sinner was seated in an +arm-chair of ebony, curiously carved, and ornamented +with figures of strange, misshapen imps, among which +the prince recognized his old friend, Master Whipswitchem. +By his side stood a female of such transcendent +and inimitable beauty, that the prince at +once concluded this was the phantom against whom +he was so emphatically warned by his good friend +the fairy. He allowed himself but one glance, which +sufficed to convince him she resembled exactly the +charming princess he had so often seen in his dreams, +and which had like to have proved fatal. Then shutting +his eyes, he advanced backward, sword in hand, +toward the enchanter, who at the first moment he saw +him, began those mysterious wavings of the hand +with which he was wont to put his victims to sleep, +and those cabalistic words which changed men into +beasts, insects, and reptiles. But the prince having +his eyes shut, and his back toward him, could not +see his motions, and the enchanter being horribly +affrighted, as well as naturally a great blockhead, was +so long in recollecting the formula of his incantation, +that the prince, seeing by a sly glance over the +shoulder, that he was sufficiently near, suddenly +turned round, and with one blow severed his head +from his shoulders. Then catching it before it fell to +the ground, he threw it into the great kettle that hung +boiling over the fire. He was just in time, for Curmudgeon +had got to the last but one of his cabalistic +words, and in a single instant more, Prince Violet +would have been changed into a cabbage. No sooner +was the head thrown into the kettle, than the water +began to hiss and foam, and blaze up in spires of blue +sulphureous flame, until finally the kettle burst into a +thousand fragments, and the head disappeared up the +chimney. Then the phantom beauty, uttering a shrill, +dismal scream, melted into air—and the enchantment +was dissolved forever. At that moment Prince Violet +heard a voice from the skies, as tuneful as the music +of the spheres, saying, "Well done, my prince, the +death of the wicked enchanter was necessary to the +recovery of thy lost gold-fish—for while he lived thou +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +wouldst never have seen it again. Go on—thy destiny +ere long will be accomplished." A strain of +aerial music succeeded, which gradually faded into +whispering zephyrs, bearing on their wings the +mingled perfume of a thousand flowers.</p> + +<p>The prince took possession of the castle by right of +conquest; and when the people over whom the +enchanter had reigned with a cruel and despotic +sway heard of the gallantry with which he had rid +them of their tyrant, they gathered themselves together, +and with one voice chose him for their king.</p> + +<p>Prince Violet proved an excellent sovereign; but, +though he made his subjects happy, he partook not +in what he so freely bestowed on others. The recollection +of the little gold-fish, and of the beautiful +princess he had so often seen in his dreams, was ever +present, and poisoned his days and nights with perpetual +sorrows. Though courted by King Grabyall, +and all the surrounding potentates, who had grown +up daughters, he declined their advances, passing +most of his leisure hours in wandering along the +river he had followed in his journey, and which +flowed just at the foot of the terrace of his stately +castle. He remembered that it issued from the aperture +through which he had emerged from the crystal +basin, and constantly fed his sickly fancy with the +hope that the little gold-fish might have vanished in +the same direction. If so, it was probably still in the +river, if it lived at all; and he was perpetually bending +over the stream, watching the gambols of the finny +tribes, to see if he could not detect among them his +lost wanderer.</p> + +<p>One day having rambled much further than he had +ever been before in that direction, he perceived in +turning a sharp angle of the river, a noble marble +villa, which had never attracted his notice before. It +basked its white, unsullied beauties on the bank of the +murmuring stream, and its turrets rose from out a sea +of green foliage that almost hid them from sight. Led +by curiosity, or rather by his destiny, he approached +the building by a winding walk, that seemed almost +a labyrinth, now bringing him near, and anon carrying +him to a distance, until tired at last, he stopped, +and rested himself under the shade of a stately beech, +that spread its broad arms afar, and afforded a delightful +canopy. Here, gazing around in listless +apathy, his attention was attracted by the letter V, +carved on the smooth bark, and environed with a +chaplet of violets, underneath which the motto, "Forget +me not," was cut in graceful letters. While +pondering on this rural emblem of constant love, he +was startled by a low and plaintive female voice +chanting the following simple strain, with the gentle +pathos of chastened sorrow:</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +"Forget me not! forget me not!<br /> +Pale, withered leaf, in which I read<br /> +The sad, mysterious, lonely lot<br /> +By cruel fate for me decreed.<br /> +<br /> +"Pale, withered leaf, you mind me now<br /> +Of him whose gentle name you bear,<br /> +Whose lips once uttered many a vow,<br /> +In breath more sweet than violets are.<br /> +<br /> +"Oft would he take me in his hands,<br /> +Oft hide me in his throbbing heart;<br /> +Oft kiss my eyes with words so bland—<br /> +Was ever scaly imp so blessed;<br /> +<br /> +"I joy'd his wasting form to see,<br /> +His stately beauties fade away;<br /> +'T was wo to him, but bliss to me—<br /> +It made him sad, while I was gay.<br /> +<br /> +"But I shall never see him more,<br /> +Nor share with him my life's dear lot;<br /> +Sweet youth, whose memory I adore—<br /> +Forget me not! forget me not!"<br /> +<br /></div> + +<p>These words, sung to a sweet, melancholy melody, +equally excited the sympathy and wonder of the prince. +The idea of a young lady being delighted at seeing the +face of her lover wither, and his body waste away, +he thought did little credit to the heart of woman; and +that what made him sad should make her gay, appeared +to show a great want of sympathy. As to the +"little scaly imp," he could make nothing of it. +Still there was that in the song which seemed to bear +some strange allusion to his own peculiar situation; +and his curiosity became so excited, that without reflecting +on the impropriety of his conduct, or its consequences, +he, as it were, impelled by an involuntary +yet irresistible impulse, advanced in the direction +whence the voice proceeded.</p> + +<p>Passing through a long winding avenue bordered +by beds of violets, and overshadowed by lofty trees, +he at length came to a bower of clambering vines +entwined with each other, at the further extremity of +which, seated on a bank of flowers, he beheld a female +figure, her cheek resting on her hand, and tears flowing +from her eyes. He gazed on her face, which +was turned toward the heavens, and shuddered as he +recognized an exact likeness of the phantom beauty +he had seen at the side of the enchanter's chair. He +sought to retreat, but continued to advance by an +irresistible impulse, until the lady, at the sound of his +footsteps, looked toward him. The moment she saw +the prince she uttered a piercing shriek, at the same +time rushing forward with extended arms, and a face +glowing with joyous welcome. Then, as if suddenly +recollecting herself, she hastily retired, and sunk +down on the seat, her cheek glowing with blushes. +The prince continued to advance, controlled by an +influence he could not withstand, and coming up to +her, apologized as well as the confusion of his mind +would permit, for his unceremonious intrusion.</p> + +<p>The lady remained gazing at him, with mingled +smiles and blushes, for a few moments, and then addressed +the prince in words that seemed to come +from a mouth of roses.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know me, my prince?"</p> + +<p>"Know you," faltered he, "I believe—I fear—I +know you but too well. You are the phantom +beauty. The chosen instrument of the wicked enchanter, +Curmudgeon."</p> + +<p>"Alas! no. I am no phantom, nor, I trust, an instrument +of mischief at least to you. The phantom +was formed in my likeness, because—because, as +the enchanter confessed, he could create nothing so +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +beautiful as myself by the utmost exertion of his +arts."</p> + +<p>The prince gazed at her in a trance of admiration, +for never, with the single exception of the phantom, +and the idol princess of his dreams, had he seen a +being so enchantingly lovely. The lady received his +scrutiny with smiles of modest pleasure, and at length +repeated her question—</p> + +<p>"Do you not know me, my prince?"</p> + +<p>The prince emboldened by her smiles, or impelled +by his destiny, seated himself by her side, and gazed +ardently, yet wistfully, in her face. There was something +in the expression of her eyes he fancied he had +seen before, but when or where he could not call to +mind. At length the lady, compassionating his perplexity, +again anxiously asked—</p> + +<p>"Do you remember a certain little gold-fish?"</p> + +<p>"Remember? I shall never forget," and his eyes +glistened.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember how you used to come to the +crystal basin, at the foot of the shining cascade, and +stay all day long fondling a little gold-fish, kissing its +eyes, and hiding it in your bosom?"</p> + +<p>"Remember!" cried the prince, "the recollection +constitutes the hope, or rather the despair, of my life. +Would that I could see my dear little companion +again. Methinks I should then be happy, or at least +die content."</p> + +<p>"Look in my face—look steadily," replied the +lady, greatly agitated.</p> + +<p>Their eyes met, and that look of mutual intelligence +which never deceives, disclosed the mystery. +He recognized at once that glance of mingled love +and gratitude he had so often seen beaming from the +soft expressive eyes of the little gold-fish. He started +from her side, threw himself at her feet, and exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Tell me—tell me! art not <i>thou</i> my little gold-fish?"</p> + +<p>"I am," rejoined the lady. "Once thy little gold-fish, +now thy faithful and devoted handmaid, the +Princess Violetta. It is to thy constancy I am indebted +for the recovery of my former self; and such +as I am, I will be to thee what thou choosest to +make me."</p> + +<p>"Mine forever! my beloved, my adored wife!" +cried the prince, as he folded her in his arms, kissed +her as he was wont to do the little gold-fish, and at +that moment reaped the reward of all his sufferings.</p> + +<p>After enjoying the first delights of mutual love, the +princess said to him, "Doubtless you are anxious to +know how I came to be transformed into a fish; and +I will tell you now, that there may be nothing to explain +hereafter. I must begin early, for my misfortunes +commenced almost at my birth. I am the only +child of King Grabyall, in whose dominions you now +are; and according to the universal custom of all +royal christenings, a great many fairies were invited +to mine, and some few vulgar things came without +invitation. Among the latter was an old fairy, so ill-natured +and malicious, that, though very powerful to +do evil, no one would pay her the least attention; +for they knew that no kindness could conciliate the +wicked old creature. Of course, neither my father +nor mother paid her the least attention, or made her +presents; and no one spoke a word to her, at which +she flew into a great rage, and went away shaking +her wand, and mumbling in a spiteful manner, 'Well, +good people, you are all mighty silent now, but before +long you shall have talking enough, I promise you!'</p> + +<p>"Everybody laughed at the spiteful old woman—but +it was no such laughing matter, I assure you, +my prince; for she was hardly out of sight, when, to +the astonishment of the whole court, I began to talk +with such volubility that nobody could keep pace +with me. First I scolded the nurse, then abused the +fairies, and finally took my parents to task roundly +for attempting to stop me. The courtiers tried to +persuade them that this was only an omen of my precocious +genius, and that, beyond all doubt, I should +one day become the wisest, most eloquent princess +in the world. But they remembered the threat of the +malicious old fairy, and became exceeding sorrowful. +As I grew up my volubility increased; I talked from +morning till night, and all night too. Sleeping or +waking, it was just the same; and my voice was so +loud and shrill that it could be heard all over the +palace. What rendered the matter still worse, I was +exceeding ill-natured, satirical, and witty, insomuch, +that all were afraid to come near me; and I was +obliged at last to talk to myself. It is necessary I +should apprise you that I grew up to great beauty, +and by the time I was sixteen, many of the neighboring +princes came to pay their addresses to me. +But I never gave them an opportunity, for before +they could open their lips, I poured a torrent of +satirical reproaches in their ears that struck them all +dumb; insomuch, that it was said some of them never +recovered their speech afterward. Do you not hate +me, my prince, for being such a termagant?"</p> + +<p>The prince, to say the truth, was a little startled at +this detail, but replied with a look that was perfectly +satisfactory; and the princess proceeded with her +story.</p> + +<p>"At the age of seventeen, the enchanter, Curmudgeon, +incited by the report of my beauty, came +to pay my father a visit—my mother being long since +dead. He at first sight fell violently in love, and demanded +me in marriage of my father, who, though a +kind-hearted, good man, was, I believe, heartily glad +to get rid of me, but at the same time frankly apprized +him of my infirmity. 'O, ho!' answered the enchanter, +'never mind that—I shall soon cure her, I +warrant you.' He then approached to make his declaration, +when, being exceedingly provoked at his +slighting expressions, which I had overheard, I gave +him such an explosion of satire, spleen, and ill-nature, +as he had never probably heard before. I ridiculed +his pretensions, scoffed at his person, despised his +offers, and defied his power, until he could stand it +no longer. Stamping his foot on the floor, waving +his hand, and muttering some cabalistic words, he +at length cried out in a rage, <span class="smcap">'Be dumb forever!</span> or +at least till such time as some prince shall be fool +enough to fall in love with you, and pine away until +he makes no shadow in the sun.'</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> + +<p>"At that moment I found myself changed into a gold-fish, +and swimming in the crystal basin where you +first saw me. How long I remained there before you +made your appearance I cannot tell, but I know that +I was heartily tired of my loneliness, and at first felt +the loss of speech very severely. I rejoiced when I +first saw you. Your caresses penetrated my heart, +and—you must forgive me, my dear prince—but when +I beheld you wasting away daily, and knew it was for +love of me, my happiness grew with your sorrows, +for I felt that my deliverance was at hand, and that +I should live to reward you for all your sufferings. +The day the sun first shone full into the crystal basin, +and I saw that you cast no shadow there, you may +remember, I suddenly darted from your hand and disappeared. +It was very ungrateful, but I could not +resist my destiny. I was instantly transformed to my +original likeness, and—but don't be alarmed, my +prince, for I assure you my propensity to talking was +effectually and forever repressed, by the long habit of +silence I had preserved as the little gold-fish. I was +received by my father with affectionate welcome, +and—and what else shall I say? I have mourned +your absence day after day, until I almost ceased to +hope that I should ever see you again. But," added +the princess, with a look of unutterable tenderness, +"thou hast come back once more to me—thou hast +sought and found thy little gold-fish, and I am +happy."</p> + +<p>The prince had scarcely time to return suitable acknowledgments, +and vow eternal love, when they +were roused by the sound of the hunter's horn, announcing +the return of King Grabyall from the chase. +The princess introduced him to the prince; and his +majesty being in high good humor, having been very +successful that morning, beside having an excellent +appetite for dinner, received him most graciously. The +ardent prince lost no time in declaring his love; and +King Grabyall, knowing that he had been chosen to +govern the territories of the enchanter, Curmudgeon, +beside inheriting all his vast riches, graciously consented +to the marriage. He did this the more willingly, +knowing from late experience that the princess, having +fulfilled the denunciation of the malicious old fairy, +had survived her infirmity.</p> + +<p>There was never in this world such a splendid and +happy wedding; and what added to the pleasure of +all parties, was seeing the good fairy, Violetta, enter +the superb saloon to honor the ceremony.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, my prince," said she, holding out her +little, delicate hand, "I congratulate you; you have +triumphed by valor and constancy."</p> + +<p>When the ceremony was over, the prince inquired +anxiously whether she knew aught of his father, and +was informed that he had married the daughter of +good King Doddipol, and was wasting his substance +as fast as possible, by giving <i>fêtes</i> to the bride, and +lending great sums to his father-in-law. Prince +Violet sighed at the fate of the Old Man of the Hills, +but in good time forgot all his griefs in the arms of +love and beauty.</p> + +<p>The Princess Violetta made a most excellent wife, +and never afterward talked more than became a reasonable +woman. The wicked giant, who, it should +have been premised, had been extricated from the +moat, and finished his fit of sneezing, being freed +from the diabolical influence of the enchanter, Curmudgeon, +took the pledge, became a tetotailer, and +lived ever after an example to all overgrown monsters, +past, present, and future.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_VESPER_BELL" id="THE_VESPER_BELL"></a>THE VESPER BELL.</h2> + +<h4>BY PARK BENJAMIN.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +How deep and mournfully at eve's sweet hour<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The bell for vespers chimes its holiest note,</span><br /> +When the soft twilight lends its soothing power<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And on the air a silence seems to float!</span><br /> +<br /> +The weary wand'rer knows a home of rest,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He toils not now who toiled the livelong day,</span><br /> +Friends cherish fondest recollections, blest<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With thoughts of them whose love cannot decay,</span><br /> +<br /> +The best affections of the heart are told,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We greet with joy our dear, domestic hearth,</span><br /> +And think how strong the viewless bonds that hold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Unwearied love to transient things of Earth.</span><br /> +<br /> +And visions of his lyre the poet sees<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">At this lone time of Nature's sweet repose,</span><br /> +When fancied music, borne on every breeze,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Æolian-like, with thrilling sadness flows.</span><br /> +<br /> +Oh, then move thoughts, the holiest and best,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O'er the soul's calm and mild serenity,</span><br /> +Like beauteous birds that skim along the breast<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of the still waters in some waveless sea.</span><br /> +<br /> +Where that deep bell sends forth its solemn tone,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How many worship at Devotion's shrine!</span><br /> +How many voices rise before the throne<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whence the bright glories of the Godhead shine!</span><br /> +<br /> +Not when the glories of th' opening day<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With crimson blushes usher in the dawn,</span><br /> +Not when the noontide pours its deepest ray<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On forest, glade, blue lake and emerald lawn;</span><br /> +<br /> +Not when the moonbeams shed their silvery light<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In richest lustre over copse and dell,</span><br /> +Come sainted hopes, sweet dreams and fancies bright<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As when through shadows sounds the Vesper Bell.</span><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TEACHER_TAUGHT" id="THE_TEACHER_TAUGHT"></a>THE TEACHER TAUGHT.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +<h4>BY MARY S. ADAMS.</h4> + + +<p>"Three months' imprisonment! Heigho!" soliloquized +Harvey Hall, as he entered the school-room, +and surveyed the array of seats before him. "Well, +poverty is a crime punished not only by one's state +and country, but by the whole world. Here am I +longing for a profession which shall give some play +to my mind, which shall enable me to take a stand +among men; and now to purchase that profession I +must 'teach young ideas' till the requisite sum is obtained. +The daughters of Darius were condemned +for the murder of their husbands to fill leaky vessels +in Tartarus—that is, they became teachers! It is +hard that those who have neither <i>been</i> nor <i>murdered</i> +husbands should endure like punishment."</p> + +<p>Harvey Hall always spoke the truth, albeit sometimes +the truth a little <i>swollen</i>; so he was, as he said, +condemned to a temporary reign over children and +spelling-books, in order to pursue his studies—for +the expenses of which the limited finances of his +parents would not suffice; and he had taken the +academy at L., with the due announcement of all +his qualifications in the county newspaper.</p> + +<p>"Some bright faces here," thought he, as his eyes +glanced over those of his scholars upturned to him, and +rested on one with eyes bright enough to light Cupid +on his way to any untenanted heart, but bearing the +expression of smothered mirth, never relished by +those who do not happen to know the <i>mot d'enigme</i>. +Small white fingers traced something rapidly on the +slate, which was then given to a young lady, who, on +the perusal of its characters, gave a stifled laugh, and +buried her face in a handkerchief. But the author of +the mischief, whatever it was, instantly turned to +gravity, and met the searching gaze of Hall with a +demure look which amused him not a little.</p> + +<p>"That daughter of Parson Hinton finds fun enough +in something. I wish her father could preach her +into better behavior. She is the most troublesome +sprite I have in school. Young ladies," he said, +assuming all the dignity of his position, "less whispering, +and more attention to your studies would conduce +to your improvement."</p> + +<p>Annie Hinton and her chum took their books, and +were soon apparently absorbed in them. Annie met +with some question she could not solve; and taking +her book to the teacher, she asked an explanation. +It was given.</p> + +<p>"And you made an observation just now, sir, +which I wish to remember. Will you be so kind as +to repeat it," she added, bending toward him with the +greatest mock attention and deference.</p> + +<p>It is said that the worst reception of a compliment +is to request its repetition; and the remark is just as +applicable to a reproof. Certainly Harvey Hall found +it so. Impudence he could have met successfully; +but there was something in the arch air of respect, so +evidently assumed, and in the polite tone accompanying +bright eyes which <i>would</i> almost laugh out, +which told him that the present scene would figure in +some after frolic formidable enough to young gentlemen +who are never proof against the ridicule of +mirthful girls in their teens. He longed to laugh with +her at it all, but an assembled school, a roguish scholar, +would not exactly admit of this; so, coloring a little, +and then provoked at himself for the <i>gossiping</i> blood +which betrayed his inward embarrassment, he said,</p> + +<p>"Oh, merely that study is more appropriate to the +school-room than amusement. I shall be happy to +have it dwell in your memory and practice, Miss +Hinton."</p> + +<p>Annie bowed gracefully, gravely, and turned away, +but not before Hall mentally resolved never to admonish +her again if he could avoid it.</p> + +<p>When the day for compositions came—that bore +which all parties would gladly overlook instead of look +over—Hall, dreading trite essays on all the hackneyed +themes of school, told the misses under his charge to +write on any thing that interested them—they might describe +some of the manners and customs among them.</p> + +<p>"But we have <i>no manners</i>, and very few customs, +Mr. Hall," said Annie.</p> + +<p>"Well, select any subject that pleases yourself, +Miss Annie."</p> + +<p>The composition was on Dignity, and was so ludicrous, +so <i>personal</i> a description of it, that Mr. Hall +was fairly puzzled. What shall I say to this merry +damsel, who seems to turn into sport all I say or do. +I cannot correct her.</p> + +<p>"Miss Hinton, carry this home to your father, and +see if he says it is a proper article for you to bring +in as a composition."</p> + +<p>The next day it was returned with, "My father +thinks Dignity one of the finest things he has ever +seen," she said, half hesitating, as if unwilling to +utter such praise, but looking as if all the spirits of +fun had taken the opportunity to look out of her eyes. +Of course, her reverend parent had never had a +glimpse of it—and this her teacher very well knew.</p> + +<p>But why watch her with more interest than all +the "well behaved" of his school? In accordance +with Scripture, he left the ninety and nine just ones, +to search for the one who went astray. The lessons +she recited had for him a double interest; the days +she was absent were like the dull, gray sky of autumn—nay, +several times he even acknowledged to himself +that teaching was <i>not</i> the dull routine he had supposed, +and the term of his probation had not the +leaden wings he had anticipated.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> + +<p>But there was an apprehension to disturb the tenor +of his thoughts, and fall heavily upon his official capacity. +He had—yes, he certainly had seen Annie +Hinton receive a billet from Charles Lane; and +Charles Lane was a bright youth—a fine scholar—ready +to enter college the next term—and just her +age. It was wrong, decidedly wrong, to have any +silly flirtations between mere boys and girls—he had +always considered it so; but now it was wonderful +to see how strong his reasoning, and firm his opinions +were on this subject. And personal experience <i>has</i> +an extraordinary power in giving edge to moral reflections; +how it draws them out of the shade, concentrates +and clinches them.</p> + +<p>Well, Harvey Hall felt really grieved that scholars +should have their attention drawn away from their +studies by such nonsense as a children's love affair. +Charles Lane was a promising boy to be sure; but +he must go through college, and be settled in life before +he ought to think of fancying any one. He +might become dissipated—such bright boys often did; +or fickle—in short, no one knew which rein of his +character the future might pull. And Annie—pretty +creature—who could not pass a day without some +mirthful episode, how ridiculous for a child like her +to think of selecting a lover! her mind was not disciplined +at all—her taste not pronounced; she might +make a different choice when she really knew her +own wishes, and had seen more of the world. It +would be wrong to entangle herself with any passing +fancy like the present—really wrong to suffer a child +to make a decision by which the <i>woman</i> must abide. +And then the good minister would be shocked to see +his plaything, Annie, forming any foolish attachment. +Yes, he must do all he could to prevent it. But how +could Parson Hinton be so blind? The other evening +when he called there, Charles Lane knocked at the +door, to bring a slip of geranium, which he had +walked several miles to get for Annie; and the old +gentleman only said, "You are very obliging, Charles—drop +in and see us often." So strange, not to know +it was just like such precocious youths to fancy themselves +in love with every pretty girl. So laws were +enacted stricter than those of the Medes and Persians, +against all billets passed in school; as if Cupid, had +he made the essay, would not have delighted to +jeopardize all regulations, and fly in the face of +all laws.</p> + +<p>One day as Mr. Hall was ascending the steps to +enter school, he saw Annie give Charles Lane a +knitted purse, and heard her say something about +"the phillipina." As I said, he was <i>principled</i> against +such interchange of sentiment, or gifts, between such +children; but the present instance did not come precisely +under his dominion, being <i>out</i> of school—and +he entered upon his duties with a somewhat cloudy +brow. Every one has observed how much the sky +of his feelings influences the earth of reality. If +one wakes "out of tune" in the morning, the events +of the day seldom harmonize him. Let you walk +out in a city, feeling blue and burthened, and how +many things conspire to annoy you. You are blinded +by dust, or contaminated with mud, or the snow +slumps, or your feet slip at every step; a child is +almost run over in the street; people jostle rudely; +the bell tolls; the town-crier seems to scream at +every corner where you turn; the lady you particularly +admire is talking with vast animation to ——, +and does not even perceive you; a bow thrown +away; Mr. Lawkens, the deaf man, will cross over +to speak to you, but cannot hear your answer, +although you have repeated it the third time; a gust +of wind blows off your hat, and a bore holds you by +the button to tell you, what you well knew, the election +has gone against your favorite candidate; while +you inwardly exclaim, "misfortunes never come +single."</p> + +<p>Our pedagogue had a hazy atmosphere around his +spirit this day—and nothing cleared it. The recitations +were miserable, and the boys full of pranks—which +boys are heir to; the girls were any thing but +book-intent. The class in chemistry was called, +and as Mr. Hall was performing some experiments +on the apparatus, he said,</p> + +<p>"Now, when I apply this, you will see that—it +wont go," he added, as the desired result, from some +cause, failed.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, we see it," smilingly whispered Annie +to the next on her seat.</p> + +<p>The sound reached Mr. Hall, already mortified by +the failure of the experiment.</p> + +<p>"Miss Hinton," he exclaimed, in a loud, stern +tone, "take your books, and go home."</p> + +<p>Annie looked surprised, as well she might, and +waited, as if to be sure she did not misunderstand +him. The attention of the school was roused—there +could be no revocation—so the mandate was repeated, +and obeyed.</p> + +<p>Poor Hall! his chemical manipulations were no +more successful that day; classes were called, and +heard at random. The small scholars thought "it +was a grand time—master did not seem to mind +them;" while older ones wondered at his unwonted +humor. Meanwhile his reflections were any thing +but agreeable. How could he have been so harsh +for such a trifle, and ungentlemanly too. All Annie's +faults were the mere exuberance of a joyous spirit; +and she was quick to acknowledge and regret them; +and yet he had not expostulated, but abruptly commanded +her to leave. How she must despise him! +And she had a great deal of sensibility; he had seen +the color suffuse her face, and the tears glisten in her +dark eyes, when a tale of sorrow or delicious poem +had excited her emotion. Perhaps she was at that +very moment weeping at his harshness; and then +proofs of interest in <i>him</i>, albeit she was a laughter-loving +spirit, stole over his memory. He thought of +an evening he had lately passed at her house, when +his conversation seemed to rivet her attention, +although he afterward heard her say, "There! Mary +Jane has a party to-night, and I entirely forgot it until +too late. Well, I have enjoyed myself better here." +And <i>he</i>, the ingrate! how had he returned it, by unwarrantable +rudeness! She was just beginning to +talk to him with confiding frankness of her books, +her tastes, and opening to <i>his</i> study a mind as well +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +worth it as the changing loveliness of her face—when +this folly had destroyed it all. And what would +the good minister say? He who had received him so +kindly; so hospitably told him to come to him at any +and all times when he could be of assistance—what +would <i>he</i> say to have his pet, at once his amusement +and pride, turned out of school like any common +urchin?</p> + +<p>Oh! how the hours of school dragged. Every +moment seemed to bear a weight of lead, and carry +to the luckless teacher a thousand arrows poisoned +by self-reproach. No sooner was his fiat of release +obtained, than with mingled regret and apprehension, +he wended his steps to the parsonage. He knocked +at the door, desired to see Mr. Hinton, and was accordingly +shown up into his study.</p> + +<p>"He looks as if something lay on his mind," thought +the clergyman, as he saw him enter, and advanced +to shake hands with him. "Perhaps he is considering +the concerns of his soul. Heaven help me to +counsel him aright!" and there was an unusual kindliness +in his tone, as he urged him to be seated, which +was "heaping coals of fire" on the head of the +conscience-stricken teacher.</p> + +<p>A pause. "I am—I have called—I regret—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," mentally ejaculated the old man, "he +feels the burden of sin, and is under conviction, +I see—"</p> + +<p>"In short, sir, I am sorry to trouble you at this +time, but I—"</p> + +<p>"Speak out freely, my dear young man," said his +benignant listener.</p> + +<p>Is it possible he does not know what has passed?</p> + +<p>"I regret to say that, vexed by the inattention of +the scholars, and by whispering, in which Miss Annie +joined, I hastily told her to leave school."</p> + +<p>"Told my daughter Annie to leave school!"</p> + +<p>The door of the study was thrown open, and Annie +danced into the middle of the room, her bonnet hanging +on her arm, flowers in her hair, and a bouquet in +her hand, fresh from the woods in which she had +been rambling. "Father! father!" she stopped, and +gazed first at her father, and then at Mr. Hall, with +a mingled expression of regret and surprise. Her +long walk that afternoon had given her a heightened +color; and the varied feelings which moved her +were clearly depicted on her face.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Annie," said Hall, extending his +hand, "come here, and say you forgive the rudeness +of this afternoon." She hesitated an instant—the +crimson deepened on her cheek, and the lip slightly +trembled; then looking up with one of her own +radiant smiles, she gave her small, white hand to +the teacher.</p> + +<p>Not long after he made another visit to the good +minister's study, not, indeed, to ask forgiveness for +turning Annie out of school, but to beg permission to +transplant her one day to a home of his own. Whatever +was said, we suspect Annie might have served +as "an instance in point" for that rather broad generalization +of Swift,</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +"No girl is pleased with what is taught<br /> +But has <i>the teacher</i> in her thought."<br /></div> + +<p>"Young gentlemen," said Harvey Hall, (Judge Hall +then,) when some years afterward two or three of +his law students were spending the evening at his +hospitable mansion, "young gentlemen, never regret +the necessity of exerting yourself in order to obtain +your profession; for beside the habit of <i>self-help</i> +thus formed, which is invaluable, you may," he +added, glancing archly at the face, fair as ever, of +her who sat with muslin stitchery by the centre-table, +"meet with a wayside rose as precious as Annie."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SUNBEAM" id="THE_SUNBEAM"></a>THE SUNBEAM.</h2> + +<h3>(FROM THE FRENCH OF LAMARTINE.)</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Come! watch with me this sunbeam, as o'er the moss bank green<br /> +It glides, and enters swiftly the foliage dark between;<br /> +Resting its golden lever, of mystic length and line,<br /> +Upon the dewy herbage, in an oblique decline:<br /> +Toward its moving column the stamen of the flowers<br /> +Whirl, as by strong attraction; and through the daylight hours<br /> +Gay insects, azure atoms, with every-colored wing,<br /> +Swim 'mid the light, still lending fresh sparkles as they spring.<br /> +<br /> +See! how in cadenced measure they gravitate below,<br /> +Now linking, then unlinking, in quick, harmonious flow;<br /> +Of Plato's worlds ideal the semblance here appears,<br /> +Those worlds that danced in circles to the music of the spheres:<br /> +So small is every atom, amid yon countless band,<br /> +That hosts of them were needful to make a grain of sand;<br /> +They form the lowest step of that brilliant ladder trod,<br /> +Ascending from the light mote to the all-present God.<br /> +<br /> +And yet a separate being exists in every part,<br /> +Within each airy globule there dwells a beating heart;<br /> +One world, perchance, presiding o'er worlds unnumbered, free,<br /> +To which the lightning's passage is an eternity;<br /> +Yet, doubtless, each enjoying, within their drop of space,<br /> +Days, nights, in all fulfilling their order and their place;<br /> +And while in wondrous ecstasy, man's throbbing eye looks on,<br /> +A thousand worlds are ended, their destinies are won!<br /> +<br /> +O God! how vast the sources which feed such life and death,<br /> +How piercing is that vision which marks out every breath;<br /> +How infinite that Spirit which cherishes each grade;<br /> +And more than all, how boundless that love, free, unrepaid,<br /> +Which nurtures into being each particle that floats,<br /> +Descending from far sun-worlds to microscopic motes;<br /> +O God! so grand and awful in yonder little ray,<br /> +What thought dare seek to fathom the blaze of thy full day?<br /></div> +<br /> +<p style="margin-left: 20em;">MARY E. LEE.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ISLETS_OF_THE_GULF" id="THE_ISLETS_OF_THE_GULF"></a>THE ISLETS OF THE GULF;</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +<h3>OR, ROSE BUDD.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool<br /> +I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but<br /> +Travelers must be content. <span class="smcap">As You Like It.</span><br /></div> + +<h4>BY THE AUTHOR OF "PILOT," "RED ROVER," "TWO ADMIRALS," "WING-AND-WING," "MILES WALLINGFORD," ETC.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot">[Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by J. Fenimore Cooper, in the Clerk's Office of the +District Court of the United States, for the Northern District of New York.]</div> + +<h5>(<i>Continued from page</i> 293.)</h5> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3>PART XV.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +The screams of rage, the groan, the strife,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The blow, the grasp, the horrid cry,</span><br /> +The panting, throttled prayer for life,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The dying's heaving sigh,</span><br /> +The murderer's curse, the dead man's fixed, still glare, +And fear's and death's cold sweat—they all are there.<br /></div> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 20em;" class="smcap">Matthew Lee.</span></p> + + +<p>It was high time that Capt. Spike should arrive +when his foot touched the bottom of the yawl. The +men were getting impatient and anxious to the last +degree, and the power of Señor Montefalderon to +control them was lessening each instant. They heard +the rending of timber, and the grinding on the coral, +even more distinctly than the captain himself, and +feared that the brig would break up while they lay +alongside of her, and crush them amid the ruins. Then +the spray of the seas that broke over the weather side +of the brig, fell like rain upon them; and every body in +the boat was already as wet as if exposed to a violent +shower. It was well, therefore, for Spike that he descended +into the boat as he did, for another minute's +delay might have brought about his own destruction.</p> + +<p>Spike felt a chill at his heart when he looked about +him and saw the condition of the yawl. So crowded +were the stern-sheets into which he had descended, +that it was with difficulty he found room to place his +feet; it being his intention to steer, Jack was ordered +to get into the eyes of the boat, in order to give him a +seat. The thwarts were crowded, and three or four +of the people had placed themselves in the very bottom +of the little craft, in order to be as much as possible +out of the way, as well as in readiness to bail out +water. So seriously, indeed, were all the seamen impressed +with the gravity of this last duty, that nearly +every man had taken with him some vessel fit for +such a purpose. Rowing was entirely out of the +question, there being no space for the movement of +the arms. The yawl was too low in the water, moreover, +for such an operation in so heavy a sea. In all, +eighteen persons were squeezed into a little craft that +would have been sufficiently loaded, for moderate +weather at sea, with its four oarsmen and as many +sitters in the stern-sheets, with, perhaps, one in the +eyes to bring her more on an even keel. In other +words, she had just twice the weight in her, in living +freight, that it would have been thought prudent to receive +in so small a craft, in an ordinary time, in or out +of a port. In addition to the human beings enumerated, +there was a good deal of baggage, nearly every individual +having had the forethought to provide a few +clothes for a change. The food and water did not +amount to much, no more having been provided than +enough for the purposes of the captain, together with +the four men with whom it had been his intention to +abandon the brig. The effect of all this cargo was to +bring the yawl quite low in the water; and every seafaring +man in her had the greatest apprehensions about +her being able to float at all when she got out from under +the lee of the Swash, or into the troubled water. Try +it she must, however, and Spike, in a reluctant and +hesitating manner, gave the final order to "Shove off!"</p> + +<p>The yawl carried a lugg, as is usually the case with +boats at sea, and the first blast of the breeze upon it +satisfied Spike that his present enterprise was one of +the most dangerous of any in which he had ever been +engaged. The puffs of wind were quite as much as +the boat would bear; but this he did not mind, as he +was running off before it, and there was little danger +of the yawl capsizing with such a weight in her. It +was also an advantage to have swift way on, to prevent +the combing waves from shooting into the boat, +though the wind itself scarce outstrips the send of the +sea in a stiff blow. As the yawl cleared the brig and +began to feel the united power of the wind and waves, +the following short dialogue occurred between the +boatswain and Spike.</p> + +<p>"I dare not keep my eyes off the breakers ahead," +the captain commenced, "and must trust to you, +Strand, to report what is going on among the man-of-war's +men. What is the ship about?"</p> + +<p>"Reefing her top-sails just now, sir. All three +are on the caps, and the vessel is laying-too, in a +manner."</p> + +<p>"And her boats?"</p> + +<p>"I see none, sir—ay, ay, there they come from +alongside of her in a little fleet! There are four of +them, sir, and all are coming down before the wind, +wing and wing, carrying their luggs reefed."</p> + +<p>"Ours ought to be reefed by rights, too, but we +dare not stop to do it; and these infernal combing seas +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +seem ready to glance aboard us with all the way we +can gather. Stand by to bail, men; we must pass +through a strip of white water—there is no help for it. +God send that we go clear of the rocks!"</p> + +<p>All this was fearfully true. The adventurers were +not yet more than a cable's length from the brig, and +they found themselves so completely environed with +the breakers as to be compelled to go through them. +No man in his senses would ever have come into such +a place at all, except in the most unavoidable circumstances; +and it was with a species of despair that the +seamen of the yawl now saw their little craft go +plunging into the foam.</p> + +<p>But Spike neglected no precaution that experience +or skill could suggest. He had chosen his spot with +coolness and judgment. As the boat rose on the seas +he looked eagerly ahead, and by giving it a timely +sheer, he hit a sort of channel, where there was sufficient +water to carry them clear of the rock, and +where the breakers were less dangerous than in the +shoaler places. The passage lasted about a minute; +and so serious was it, that scarce an individual +breathed until it was effected. No human skill could +prevent the water from combing in over the gunwales; +and when the danger was passed, the yawl was a +third filled with water. There was no time or place +to pause, but on the little craft was dragged almost +gunwale to, the breeze coming against the lugg in puffs +that threatened to take the mast out of her. All hands +were bailing; and even Biddy used her hands to aid +in throwing out the water.</p> + +<p>"This is no time to hesitate, men," said Spike, +sternly. "Every thing must go overboard but the +food and water. Away with them at once, and with +a will."</p> + +<p>It was a proof how completely all hands were +alarmed by this, the first experiment in the breakers, +that not a man stayed his hand a single moment, but +each threw into the sea, without an instant of hesitation, +every article he had brought with him and had +hoped to save. Biddy parted with the carpet-bag, and +Señor Montefalderon, feeling the importance of example, +committed to the deep a small writing-desk +that he had placed on his knees. The doubloons alone +remained, safe in a little locker where Spike had +deposited them along with his own.</p> + +<p>"What news astern, boatswain?" demanded the +captain, as soon as this imminent danger was passed, +absolutely afraid to turn his eyes off the dangers ahead +for a single instant. "How come on the man-of-war's +men?"</p> + +<p>"They are running down in a body toward the +wreck, though one of their boats does seem to be +sheering out of the line, as if getting into our wake. +It is hard to say, sir, for they are still a good bit to +windward of the wreck."</p> + +<p>"And the Molly, Strand?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, the Molly seems to be breaking up +fast; as well as I can see, she has broke in two just +abaft the fore-chains, and cannot hold together in any +shape at all many minutes longer."</p> + +<p>This information drew a deep groan from Spike, +and the eye of every seaman in the boat was turned +in melancholy on the object they were so fast leaving +behind them. The yawl could not be said to be sailing +very rapidly, considering the power of the wind, +which was a little gale, for she was much too deep +for that; but she left the wreck so fast as already to +render objects on board her indistinct. Everybody +saw that, like an overburthened steed, she had more +to get along with than she could well bear; and, dependent +as seamen usually are on the judgment and +orders of their superiors, even in the direst emergencies, +the least experienced man in her saw that +their chances of final escape from drowning were of +the most doubtful nature. The men looked at each +other in a way to express their feelings; and the moment +seemed favorable to Spike to confer with his +confidential sea-dogs in private; but more white water +was also ahead, and it was necessary to pass through +it, since no opening was visible by which to avoid it. +He deferred his purpose, consequently, until this +danger was escaped.</p> + +<p>On this occasion Spike saw but little opportunity +to select a place to get through the breakers, though +the spot, as a whole, was not of the most dangerous +kind. The reader will understand that the preservation +of the boat at all, in white water, was owing to +the circumstance that the rocks all around it lay so +near the surface of the sea as to prevent the possibility +of agitating the element very seriously, and to the +fact that she was near the lee side of the reef. Had +the breakers been of the magnitude of those which +are seen where the deep rolling billows of the ocean +first meet the weather side of shoals or rocks, a craft +of that size, and so loaded, could not possibly have +passed the first line of white water without filling. +As it was, however, the breakers she had to contend +with were sufficiently formidable, and they brought +with them the certainty that the boat was in imminent +danger of striking the bottom at any moment. Places +like those in which Mulford had waded on the reef, +while it was calm, would now have proved fatal to +the strongest frame, since human powers were insufficient +long to withstand the force of such waves as did +glance over even these shallows.</p> + +<p>"Look out!" cried Spike, as the boat again plunged +in among the white water. "Keep bailing, men—keep +bailing."</p> + +<p>The men did bail, and the danger was over almost as +soon as encountered. Something like a cheer burst +out of the chest of Spike, when he saw deeper water +around him, and fancied he could now trace a channel +that would carry him quite beyond the extent of the +reef. It was arrested, only half uttered, however, by a +communication from the boatswain, who sat on a +midship thwart, his arms folded, and his eye on the +brig and the boats.</p> + +<p>"There goes the Molly's masts, sir! Both have +gone together; and as good sticks was they, before +them bomb-shells passed through our rigging, as was +ever stepped in a keelson."</p> + +<p>The cheer was changed to something like a groan, +while a murmur of regret passed through the boat.</p> + +<p>"What news from the man-of-war's men, boatswain? +Do they still stand down on a mere wreck?"</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> + +<p>"No, sir; they seem to give it up, and are getting +out their oars to pull back to their ship. A pretty +time they'll have of it, too. The cutter that gets to +windward half a mile in an hour, ag'in such a sea, +and such a breeze, must be well pulled and better +steered. One chap, however, sir, seems to hold on."</p> + +<p>Spike now ventured to look behind him, commanding +an experienced hand to take the helm. In +order to do this he was obliged to change places with +the man he had selected to come aft, which brought +him on a thwart alongside of the boatswain and one +or two other of his confidents. Here a whispered +conference took place, which lasted several minutes, +Spike appearing to be giving instructions to the men.</p> + +<p>By this time the yawl was more than a mile from +the wreck, all the man-of-war boats but one had +lowered their sails, and were pulling slowly and with +great labor back toward the ship, the cutter that kept +on, evidently laying her course after the yawl, instead +of standing on toward the wreck. The brig was breaking +up fast, with every probability that nothing would +be left of her in a few more minutes. As for the yawl, +while clear of the white water, it got along without +receiving many seas aboard, though the men in its +bottom were kept bailing without intermission. It +appeared to Spike that so long as they remained on +the reef, and could keep clear of breakers—a most +difficult thing, however—they should fare better than +if in deeper water, where the swell of the sea, and +the combing of the waves, menaced so small and so +deep-loaded a craft with serious danger. As it was, +two or three men could barely keep the boat clear, +working incessantly, and much of the time with a +foot or two of water in her.</p> + +<p>Josh and Simon had taken their seats, side by side, +with that sort of dependence and submission that +causes the American black to abstain from mingling +with the whites more than might appear seemly. +They were squeezed on to one end of the thwart by +a couple of robust old sea-dogs, who were two of the +very men with whom Spike had been in consultation. +Beneath that very thwart was stowed another confident, +to whom communications had also been made. +These men had sailed long in the Swash, and having +been picked up in various ports, from time to time, +as the brig had wanted hands, they were of nearly +as many different nations as they were persons. +Spike had obtained a great ascendency over them by +habit and authority, and his suggestions were now +received as a sort of law. As soon as the conference +was ended, the captain returned to the helm.</p> + +<p>A minute more passed, during which the captain +was anxiously surveying the reef ahead, and the +state of things astern. Ahead was more white water—the +last before they should get clear of the reef; and +astern it was now settled that the cutter that held on +through the dangers of the place, was in chase of the +yawl. That Mulford was in her Spike made no +doubt; and the thought embittered even his present +calamities. But the moment had arrived for something +decided. The white water ahead was much +more formidable than any they had passed; and the +boldest seaman there gazed at it with dread. Spike +made a sign to the boatswain, and commenced the +execution of his dire project.</p> + +<p>"I say, you Josh," called out the captain, in the +authoritative tones that are so familiar to all on board +a ship, "pull in that fender that is dragging alongside."</p> + +<p>Josh leaned over the gunwale, and reported that +there was no fender out. A malediction followed, +also so familiar to those acquainted with ships, and +the black was told to look again. This time, as had +been expected, the negro leaned with his head and +body far over the side of the yawl, to look for that +which had no existence, when two of the men beneath +the thwart shoved <i>his</i> legs after them. Josh +screamed, as he found himself going into the water, +with a sort of confused consciousness of the truth; +and Spike called out to Simon to "catch hold of his +brother-nigger." The cook bent forward to obey, +when a similar assault on <i>his</i> legs from beneath the +thwart, sent him headlong after Josh. One of the +younger seamen, who was not in the secret, sprang +up to rescue Simon, who grasped his extended hand, +when the too generous fellow was pitched headlong +from the boat.</p> + +<p>All this occurred in less than ten seconds of time, +and so unexpectedly and naturally, that not a soul +beyond those who were in the secret, had the least +suspicion it was any thing but an accident. Some +water was shipped, of necessity, but the boat was +soon bailed free. As for the victims of this vile conspiracy, +they disappeared amid the troubled waters of +the reef, struggling with each other. Each and all +met the common fate so much the sooner, from the +manner in which they impeded their own efforts.</p> + +<p>The yawl was now relieved from about five hundred +pounds of the weight it had carried—Simon +weighing two hundred alone, and the youngish seaman +being large and full. So intense does human +selfishness get to be, in moments of great emergency, +that it is to be feared most of those who remained, +secretly rejoiced that they were so far benefitted by the +loss of their fellows. The Señor Montefalderon was +seated on the aftermost thwart, with his legs in the +stern-sheets, and consequently with his back toward +the negroes, and he fully believed that what had happened +was purely accidental.</p> + +<p>"Let us lower our sail, Don Esteban," he cried, +eagerly, "and save the poor fellows."</p> + +<p>Something very like a sneer gleamed on the dark +countenance of the captain, but it suddenly changed +to a look of assent.</p> + +<p>"Good!" he said, hastily—"spring forward, Don +Wan, and lower the sail—stand by the oars, men!"</p> + +<p>Without pausing to reflect, the generous-hearted +Mexican stepped on a thwart, and began to walk +rapidly forward, steadying himself by placing his +hands on the heads of the men. He was suffered to +get as far as the second thwart, or past most of the +conspirators, when his legs were seized from behind. +The truth now flashed on him, and grasping two of +the men in his front, who knew nothing of Spike's +dire scheme, he endeavored to save himself by holding +to their jackets. Thus assailed, those men seized +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +others with like intent, and an awful struggle filled all +that part of the craft. At this dread instant the boat +glanced into the white water, shipping so much of +the element as nearly to swamp her, and taking so +wild a sheer as nearly to broach-to. This last circumstance +probably saved her, fearful as was the +danger for the moment. Everybody in the middle of +the yawl was rendered desperate by the amount and +nature of the danger incurred, and the men from the +bottom rose in their might, underneath the combatants, +when a common plunge was made by all who stood +erect, one dragging overboard another, each a good +deal hastened by the assault from beneath, until no +less than five were gone. Spike got his helm up, the +boat fell off, and away from the spot it flew, clearing +the breakers, and reaching the northern wall-like +margin of the reef at the next instant. There was +now a moment when those who remained could +breathe, and dared to look behind them.</p> + +<p>The great plunge had been made in water so shoal, +that the boat had barely escaped being dashed to +pieces on the coral. Had it not been so suddenly +relieved from the pressure of near a thousand pounds +in weight, it is probable that this calamity would have +befallen it, the water received on board contributing +so much to weigh it down. The struggle between +these victims ceased, however, the moment they +went over. Finding bottom for their feet, they released +each other, in a desperate hope of prolonging +life by wading. Two or three held out their arms, +and shouted to Spike to return and pick them up. +This dreadful scene lasted but a single instant, for the +waves dashed one after another from his feet, continually +forcing them all, as they occasionally regained +their footing, toward the margin of the reef, +and finally washing them off it into deep water. No +human power could enable a man to swim back to +the rocks, once to leeward of them, in the face of +such seas, and so heavy a blow; and the miserable +wretches disappeared in succession, as their strength +became exhausted, in the depths of the gulf.</p> + +<p>Not a word had been uttered while this terrific +scene was in the course of occurrence; not a word +was uttered for some time afterward. Gleams of +grim satisfaction had been seen on the countenances +of the boatswain, and his associates, when the +success of their nefarious project was first assured; +but they soon disappeared in looks of horror, as +they witnessed the struggles of the drowning men. +Nevertheless, human selfishness was strong within +them all, and none there was so ignorant as not to +perceive how much better were the chances of the +yawl now than it had been on quitting the wreck. +The weight of a large ox had been taken from it, +counting that of all the eight men drowned; and as +for the water shipped, it was soon bailed back again +into the sea. Not only, therefore, was the yawl in a +better condition to resist the waves, but it sailed materially +faster than it had done before. Ten persons +still remained in it, however, which brought it down +in the water below its proper load-line; and the speed +of a craft so small was necessarily a good deal lessened +by the least deviation from its best sailing, +or rowing trim. But Spike's projects were not yet +completed.</p> + +<p>All this time the man-of-war's cutter had been +rushing as madly through the breakers, in chase, as +the yawl had done in the attempt to escape. Mulford +was, in fact, on board it; and his now fast friend, +Wallace, was in command. The latter wished to +seize a traitor, the former to save the aunt of his +weeping bride. Both believed that they might follow +wherever Spike dared to lead. This reasoning was +more bold than judicious notwithstanding, since the +cutter was much larger, and drew twice as much water +as the yawl. On it came, nevertheless, faring much +better in the white water than the little craft it pursued, +but necessarily running a much more considerable +risk of hitting the coral, over which it was +glancing almost as swiftly as the waves themselves; +still it had thus far escaped—and little did any in it +think of the danger. This cutter pulled ten oars; +was an excellent sea boat; had four armed marines +in it, in addition to its crew, but carried all through +the breakers, receiving scarcely a drop of water on +board, on account of the height of its wash-boards, +and the general qualities of the craft. It may be well +to add here, that the Poughkeepsie had shaken out +her reefs, and was betraying the impatience of Capt. +Mull to make sail in chase, by firing signal guns to +his boats to bear a hand and return. These signals +the three boats under their oars were endeavoring to +obey, but Wallace had got so far to leeward as now +to render the course he was pursuing the wisest.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Budd and Biddy had seen the struggle in +which the Señor Montefalderon had been lost, in a +sort of stupid horror. Both had screamed, as was +their wont, though neither probably suspected the +truth. But the fell designs of Spike extended to them, +as well as to those whom he had already destroyed. +Now the boat was in deep water, running along the +margin of the reef, the waves were much increased +in magnitude, and the comb of the sea was far more +menacing to the boat. This would not have been +the case had the rocks formed a lee; but they did not, +running too near the direction of the trades to prevent +the billows that got up a mile or so in the offing, +from sending their swell quite home to the reef. It +was this swell, indeed, which caused the line of white +water along the northern margin of the coral, washing +on the rocks by a sort of lateral effort, and breaking, +as a matter of course. In many places no boat could +have lived to pass through it.</p> + +<p>Another consideration influenced Spike to persevere. +The cutter had been overhauling him, hand +over hand, but since the yawl was relieved of the +weight of no less than eight men, the difference in the +rate of sailing was manifestly diminished. The man-of-war's +boat drew nearer, but by no means as fast as it +had previously done. A point was now reached in the +trim of the yawl, when a very few hundreds in weight +might make the most important change in her favor; +and this change the captain was determined to produce. +By this time the cutter was in deep water, +as well as himself, safe through all the dangers of the +reef, and she was less than a quarter of a mile astern. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +On the whole, she was gaining, though so slowly as to +require the most experienced eye to ascertain the fact.</p> + +<p>"Madame Budd," said Spike, in a hypocritical +tone, "we are in great danger, and I shall have to +ask you to change your seat. The boat is too much +by the starn, now we've got into deep water, and +your weight amidships would be a great relief to us. +Just give your hand to the boatswain, and he will +help you to step from thwart to thwart, until you +reach the right place, when Biddy shall follow."</p> + +<p>Now Mrs. Budd had witnessed the tremendous +struggle in which so many had gone overboard, but +so dull was she of apprehension, and so little disposed +to suspect any thing one-half so monstrous +as the truth, that she did not hesitate to comply. +She was profoundly awed by the horrors of the +scene through which she was passing, the raging +billows of the gulf, as seen from so small a craft, +producing a deep impression on her; still a lingering +of her most inveterate affectation was to be found in +her air and language, which presented a strange +medley of besetting weakness, and strong, natural, +womanly affection.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Capt. Spike," she answered, rising. +"A craft should never go astern, and I am quite +willing to ballast the boat. We have seen such +terrible accidents to-day, that all should lend their aid +in endeavoring to get under way, and in averting all +possible hamper. Only take me to my poor, dear +Rosy, Capt. Spike, and every thing shall be forgotten +that has passed between us. This is not a moment +to bear malice; and I freely pardon you all and every +thing. The fate of our unfortunate friend, Mr. Montefalderon, +should teach us charity, and cause us to +prepare for untimely ends."</p> + +<p>All the time the good widow was making this +speech, which she uttered in a solemn and oracular +sort of manner, she was moving slowly toward the +seat the men had prepared for her, in the middle of +the boat, assisted with the greatest care and attention +by the boatswain and another of Spike's confidents. +When on the second thwart from aft, and about to +take her seat, the boatswain cast a look behind him, +and Spike put the helm down. The boat luffed and +lurched, of course, and Mrs. Budd would probably +have gone overboard to leeward, by so sudden and +violent a change, had not the impetus thus received +been aided by the arms of the men who held her two +hands. The plunge she made into the water was +deep, for she was a woman of great weight for her +stature. Still, she was not immediately gotten rid of. +Even at that dread instant, it is probable that the +miserable woman did not suspect the truth, for she +grasped the hand of the boatswain with the tenacity +of a vice, and, thus dragged on the surface of the +boiling surges, she screamed aloud for Spike to save +her. Of all who had yet been sacrificed to the captain's +selfish wish to save himself, this was the first +instance in which any had been heard to utter a sound, +after falling into the sea. The appeal shocked even +the rude beings around her, and Biddy chiming in +with a powerful appeal to "save the missus!" added +to the piteous nature of the scene.</p> + +<p>"Cast off her hand," said Spike reproachfully, +"she'll swamp the boat by her struggles—get rid of +her at once! Cut her fingers off if she wont let go."</p> + +<p>The instant these brutal orders were given, and +that in a fierce, impatient tone, the voice of Biddy +was heard no more. The truth forced itself on her +dull imagination, and she sat a witness of the terrible +scene, in mute despair. The struggle did not last +long. The boatswain drew his knife across the +wrist of the hand that grasped his own, one shriek +was heard, and the boat plunged into the trough of a +sea, leaving the form of poor Mrs. Budd struggling +with the wave on its summit, and amid the foam of +its crest. This was the last that was ever seen of +the unfortunate relict.</p> + +<p>"The boat has gained a good deal by that last discharge +of cargo," said Spike to the boatswain, a +minute after they had gotten rid of the struggling +woman—"she is much more lively, and is getting +nearer to her load-line. If we can bring her to <i>that</i>, +I shall have no fear of the man-of-war's men; for +this yawl is one of the fastest boats that ever floated."</p> + +<p>"A very little <i>now</i>, sir, would bring us to our true +trim."</p> + +<p>"Ay, we must get rid of more cargo. Come, good +woman," turning to Biddy, with whom he did not +think it worth his while to use much circumlocution, +"<i>your</i> turn is next. It's the maid's duty to follow +her mistress."</p> + +<p>"I know'd it <i>must</i> come," said Biddy, meekly. +"If there was no mercy for the missus, little could I +look for. But ye'll not take the life of a Christian +woman widout giving her so much as one minute to +say her prayers?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, pray away," answered Spike, his throat becoming +dry and husky, for, strange to say, the submissive +quiet of the Irish woman, so different from +the struggle he had anticipated with <i>her</i>, rendered +him more reluctant to proceed than he had hitherto +been in all of that terrible day. As Biddy kneeled in +the bottom of the stern-sheets, Spike looked behind +him, for the double purpose of escaping the painful +spectacle at his feet, and that of ascertaining how his +pursuers came on. The last still gained, though +very slowly, and doubts began to come over the captain's +mind whether he could escape such enemies at +all. He was too deeply committed, however, to recede, +and it was most desirable to get rid of poor +Biddy, if it were for no other motive than to shut her +mouth. Spike even fancied that some idea of what +had passed was entertained by those in the cutter. +There was evidently a stir in that boat, and two forms +that he had no difficulty, now, in recognizing as those +of Wallace and Mulford, were standing on the grating +in the eyes of the cutter, or forward of the foresail. +The former appeared to have a musket in his hand, +and the other a glass. The last circumstance admonished +him that all that was now done would be +done before dangerous witnesses. It was too late to +draw back, however, and the captain turned to look +for the Irish woman.</p> + +<p>Biddy arose from her knees, just as Spike withdrew +his eyes from his pursuers. The boatswain and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +another confident were in readiness to cast the poor +creature into the sea, the moment their leader gave +the signal. The intended victim saw and understood +the arrangement, and she spoke earnestly and piteously +to her murderers.</p> + +<p>"It's not wanting will be violence," said Biddy, +in a quiet tone, but with a saddened countenance. +"I know it's my turn, and I will save yer sowls +from a part of the burden of this great sin. God, and +His Divine Son, and the Blessed Mother of Jesus +have mercy on me if it be wrong; but I would far +radder jump into the saa widout having the rude +hands of man on me, than have the dreadful sight of +the missus done over ag'in. It's a fearful thing is +wather, and sometimes we have too little of it, and +sometimes more than we want—"</p> + +<p>"Bear a hand, bear a hand, good woman," interrupted +the boatswain, impatiently. "We must clear +the boat of you, and the sooner it is done the better it +will be for all of us."</p> + +<p>"Don't grudge a poor morthal half a minute of +life, at the last moment," answered Biddy. "It's +not long that I'll throuble ye, and so no more need +be said."</p> + +<p>The poor creature then got on the quarter of the +boat, without any one's touching her; there she placed +herself with her legs outboard, while she sat on the +gunwale. She gave one moment to the thought of +arranging her clothes with womanly decency, and +then she paused to gaze with a fixed eye, and pallid +cheek, on the foaming wake that marked the rapid +course of the boat. The troughs of the sea seemed +less terrible to her than their combing crests, and she +waited for the boat to descend into the next.</p> + +<p>"God forgive ye all, this deed, as I do!" said +Biddy, earnestly, and bending her person forward, she +fell, as it might be "without hands," into the gulf of +eternity. Though all strained their eyes, none of the +men, Jack Tier excepted, ever saw more of Biddy +Noon. Nor did Jack see much. He got a frightful +glimpse of an arm, however, on the summit of a +wave, but the motion of the boat was too swift, and +the surface of the ocean too troubled, to admit of +aught else.</p> + +<p>A long pause succeeded this event. Biddy's quiet +submission to her fate had produced more impression +on her murderers than the desperate, but unavailing, +struggles of those who had preceded her. Thus it is +ever with men. When opposed, the demon within +blinds them to consequences as well as to their duties; +but, unresisted, the silent influence of the image of +God makes itself felt, and a better spirit begins to +prevail. There was not one in that boat who did not, +for a brief space, wish that poor Biddy had been +spared. With most that feeling, the last of human +kindness they ever knew, lingered until the occurrence +of the dread catastrophe which, so shortly after, +closed the scene of this state of being on their eyes.</p> + +<p>"Jack Tier," called out Spike, some five minutes +after Biddy was drowned, but not until another observation +had made it plainly apparent to him that +the man-of-war's men still continued to draw nearer, +being now not more than fair musket shot astern.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir," answered Jack, coming quietly out +of his hole, from forward of the mast, and moving +aft as if indifferent to the danger, by stepping lightly +from thwart to thwart, until he reached the stern-sheets.</p> + +<p>"It is your turn, little Jack," said Spike, as if in a +sort of sorrowful submission to a necessity that knew +no law, "we cannot spare you the room."</p> + +<p>"I have expected this, and am ready. Let me have +my own way, and I will cause you no trouble. +Poor Biddy has taught me how to die. Before I go, +however, Stephen Spike, I must leave you this letter. +It is written by myself, and addressed to you. When +I am gone, read it, and think well of what it contains. +And now, may a merciful God pardon the sins of +both, through love for his Divine Son. I forgive you, +Stephen; and should you live to escape from those +who are now bent on hunting you to the death, let this +day cause you no grief on my account. Give me but +a moment of time, and I will cause you no trouble."</p> + +<p>Jack now stood upon the seat of the stern-sheets, +balancing himself with one foot on the stern of the +boat. He waited until the yawl had risen to the summit +of a wave, when he looked eagerly for the man-of-war's +cutter. At that moment she was lost to view +in the trough of the sea. Instead of springing overboard, +as all expected, he asked another instant of +delay. The yawl sunk into the trough itself, and +rose on the succeeding billow. Then he saw the +cutter, and Wallace and Mulford standing in its bows. +He waved his hat to them, and sprang high into the +air, with the intent to make himself seen; when he +came down, the boat had shot her length away from +the place, leaving him to buffet with the waves. +Jack now managed admirably, swimming lightly and +easily, but keeping his eyes on the crests of the waves, +with a view to meet the cutter. Spike now saw this +well planned project to avoid death, and regretted his +own remissness in not making sure of Jack. Everybody +in the yawl was eagerly looking after the form +of Tier.</p> + +<p>"There he is on the comb of that sea, rolling over +like a keg!" cried the boatswain.</p> + +<p>"He's through it," answered Spike, "and swimming +with great strength and coolness."</p> + +<p>Several of the men started up involuntarily and simultaneously +to look, hitting their shoulders and bodies +together. Distrust was at its most painful height; and +bull-dogs do not spring at the ox's muzzle more fiercely +than those six men throttled each other. Oaths, curses, +and appeals for help, succeeded; each man endeavoring, +in his frenzied efforts, to throw all the others overboard, +as the only means of saving himself. Plunge +succeeded plunge; and when that combat of demons +ended, no one remained of them all but the boatswain. +Spike had taken no share in the struggle, looking on +in grim satisfaction, as the Father of Lies may be +supposed to regard all human strife, hoping good to +himself, let the result be what it might to others. Of +the five men who thus went overboard, not one +escaped. They drowned each other by continuing +their maddened conflict in an element unsuited to +their natures.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> + +<p>Not so with Jack Tier. His leap had been seen, +and a dozen eyes in the cutter watched for his person, +as that boat came foaming down before the wind. +A shout of "There he is!" from Mulford succeeded; +and the little fellow was caught by the hair, secured, +and then hauled into the boat by the second lieutenant +of the Poughkeepsie and our young mate.</p> + +<p>Others in the cutter had noted the incident of the +hellish fight. The fact was communicated to Wallace, +and Mulford said, "That yawl will outsail this loaded +cutter, with only two men in it."</p> + +<p>"Then it is time to try what virtue there is in lead," +answered Wallace. "Marines, come forward, and +give the rascal a volley."</p> + +<p>The volley was fired; one ball passed through +the head of the boatswain, killing him dead on the +spot. Another went through the body of Spike. The +captain fell in the stern-sheets, and the boat instantly +broached to.</p> + +<p>The water that came on board apprised Spike fully +of the state in which he was now placed, and by +a desperate effort, he clutched the tiller, and got +the yawl again before the wind. This could not +last, however. Little by little, his hold relaxed, +until his hand relinquished its grasp altogether, +and the wounded man sunk into the bottom of +the stern-sheets, unable to raise even his head. +Again the boat broached-to. Every sea now sent +its water aboard, and the yawl would soon have +filled, had not the cutter come glancing down past +it, and rounding-to under its lee, secured the prize.</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 20em:">[<i>To be continued.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LAND_OF_DREAMS" id="THE_LAND_OF_DREAMS"></a>THE LAND OF DREAMS.</h2> + +<h4>BY WILLIAM C. BRYANT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +A mighty realm is the Land of Dreams,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With steeps that hang in the twilight sky,</span><br /> +And weltering oceans and trailing streams<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That gleam where the dusky valleys lie.</span><br /> +<br /> +But over its shadowy border flow<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sweet rays from the world of endless morn,</span><br /> +And the nearer mountains catch the glow,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And flowers in the nearer fields are born.</span><br /> +<br /> +The souls of the happy dead repair,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From their bowers of light, to that bordering land,</span><br /> +And walk in the fainter glory there,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the souls of the living, hand in hand.</span><br /> +<br /> +One calm sweet smile in that shadowy sphere,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From eyes that open on earth no more—</span><br /> +One warning word from a voice once dear—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How they rise in the memory o'er and o'er!</span><br /> +<br /> +Far off from those hills that shine with day,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And fields that bloom in the heavenly gales,</span><br /> +The Land of Dreams goes stretching away<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To dimmer mountains and darker vales.</span><br /> +<br /> +There lie the chambers of guilty delight,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There walk the spectres of guilty fear,</span><br /> +And soft low voices that float through the night<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are whispering sin in the helpless ear.</span><br /> +<br /> +Dear maids, in thy girlhood's opening flower,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scarce weaned from the love of childish play!</span><br /> +The tears on whose cheeks are but the shower<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That freshens the early blooms of May!</span><br /> +<br /> +Thine eyes are closed, and over thy brow<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pass thoughtful shadows and joyous gleams,</span><br /> +And I know, by the moving lips, that now<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy spirit strays in the Land of Dreams.</span><br /> +<br /> +Light-hearted maiden, oh, heed thy feet!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh keep where that beam of Paradise falls;</span><br /> +And only wander where thou may'st meet<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The blessed ones from its shining walls.</span><br /> +<br /> +So shalt thou come from the Land of Dreams,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With love and peace, to this world of strife;</span><br /> +And the light that over that border streams<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall lie on the path of thy daily life.</span><br /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SONNET_TO_S_D_A" id="SONNET_TO_S_D_A"></a>SONNET—TO S. D. A.</h2> + +<h4>BY "THE SQUIRE."</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +When the young Morning, like a new-drest bride,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With pearls of dew fresh glistening in her hair,</span><br /> +Walks through the east in early summer-tide.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her robe loose floating on the scented air,</span><br /> +The laughing hours assembled at her side<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or circling round her—then is she less fair</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Than, in my heart, the picture, sweet and rare,</span><br /> +Thy presence left.—My books go unperused,<br /> +Old friends are shunned, and time flies by unused,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While I, grown idle, nothing do but dream;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gazing upon that picture till I seem</span><br /> +<i>Thyself</i>, again, before my eyes to see,<br /> +And not the ideal show: so that to me<br /> +The semblance turns to sweet reality.<br /></div> +<br /><br /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 397px;"> +<img src="images/illus122.png" width="397" height="600" +alt="logo" title="" /></div> +<h4>General William O. Butler</h4> +<h5><i>Engraved by T. S. WELCH. FOR GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE</i></h5> +<h4><i>FROM AN ORIGINAL DAGUERREOTYPE</i></h4> +<h4>[Inscription: Truly your friend--W. O. Butler]</h4> + +<h5><i>Entered according to act of Congress in the Year 1847 by G.R. Graham +in the Clerks Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of +P<sup>a</sup>.</i></h5> +<br /><br /> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BIOGRAPHICAL_SKETCH" id="BIOGRAPHICAL_SKETCH"></a>BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH<br /> +OF GENERAL WILLIAM O. BUTLER.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +<h4>BY FRANCIS P. BLAIR.</h4> + + +<p>In memoirs of individuals of distinction it is usual +to look back to their ancestry. The feeling is universal +which prompts us to learn something of even +an ordinary acquaintance in whom interest is felt. +It will indulge, therefore, only a necessary and proper +curiosity to introduce the subject of this notice +by a short account of a family whose striking traits +survive in him so remarkably. General Butler's +grandfather, Thomas Butler, was born 6th April, +1720, in Kilkenny, Ireland. He married there in +1742. Three of his five sons who attained manhood, +Richard, William and Thomas, were born abroad. +Pierce, the father of General William O. Butler, and +Edward, the youngest son, were born in Pennsylvania. +It is remarkable that all these men, and all +their immediate male descendants, with a single exception, +(who was a judge,) were engaged in the +military service of this country.</p> + +<p>The eldest, Richard, was Lieut. Col. of Morgan's +celebrated rifle-regiment, and to him it owed much +of the high character that gave it a fame of its +own, apart from the other corps of the Revolution. +The cool, disciplined valor which gave steady and +deadly direction to the rifles of this regiment, was +derived principally from this officer, who devoted +himself to the drill of his men. He was promoted to +the full command of his regiment sometime during +the war, (when Morgan's great merit and services +had raised him to the rank of general,) and in that +capacity had commanded Wayne's left in the attack +on Stony Point. About the year 1790, he was appointed +major-general. On the 4th of November, +1791, he was killed in St. Clair's bloody battle with +the Indians. His combat with the Indians, after he +was shot, gave such a peculiar interest to his fate +that a representation of himself and the group surrounding +him was exhibited throughout the Union +in wax figures. Notices of this accomplished soldier +will be found in Marshall's Life of Washington, +pages 290, 311, 420. In Gen. St. Clair's report, in +the American Museum, volume xi. page 44, Appendix.</p> + +<p>William Butler, the second son, was an officer +throughout the revolutionary war; rose to the rank +of colonel, and was in many of the severest battles. +He was the favorite of the family, and was boasted +of by this race of heroes as the coolest and boldest +man in battle they had ever known. When the +army was greatly reduced in rank and file, and there +were many superfluous officers, they organized +themselves into a separate corps, and elected him to +the command. General Washington declined receiving +this novel corps of commissioned soldiers, +but in a proud testimonial did honor to their devoted +patriotism.</p> + +<p>Of Thomas Butler, the third son, we glean the following +facts from the American Biographical Dictionary. +In the year 1776, whilst he was a student +of law in the office of the eminent Judge Wilson of +Philadelphia, he left his pursuit and joined the army +as a subaltern. He soon obtained the command of a +company, in which he continued to the close of the +revolutionary war. He was in almost every action +fought in the Middle States during the war. At the +battle of Brandywine he received the thanks of +Washington on the field of battle, through his aid-de-camp +Gen. Hamilton, for his intrepid conduct in rallying +a detachment of retreating troops, and giving +the enemy a severe fire. At the battle of Monmouth +he received the thanks of Gen. Wayne for defending +a defile, in the face of a severe fire from the enemy, +while Col. Richard Butler's regiment made good its +retreat. At the close of the war he retired into private +life, as a farmer, and continued in the enjoyment +of rural and domestic happiness until the year +1791, when he again took the field to meet the savage +foe that menaced our western frontier. He commanded +a battalion in the disastrous battle of Nov. +4, 1791, in which his brother fell. Orders were given +by Gen. St. Clair to charge with the bayonet, and +Major Butler, though his leg had been broken by a +ball, yet on horseback, led his battalion to the charge. +It was with difficulty his surviving brother, Capt. +Edward Butler, removed him from the field. In +1792 he was continued in the establishment as major, +and in 1794 he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel +commandant of the 4th sub-legion. He commanded +in this year Fort Fayette, at Pittsburg, and +prevented the deluded insurgents from taking it, more +by his name than by his forces, for he had but few +troops. The close of his life was embittered with +trouble. In 1803 he was arrested by the commanding +general—Wilkinson—at Fort Adams, on the +Mississippi, and sent to Maryland, where he was +tried by a court-martial, and acquitted of all the +charges, save that of <i>wearing his hair</i>. He was +then ordered to New Orleans, where he arrived, to +take command of the troops, October 20th. He was +again arrested next month; but the court did not sit +until July of the next year, and their decision is not +known. Col. Butler died Sept. 7, 1805. Out of the +arrest and persecution of this sturdy veteran, Washington +Irving (Knickerbocker) has worked up a fine +piece of burlesque, in which Gen. Wilkinson's character +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +is inimitably delineated in that of the vain and +pompous Gen. Von Poffenburg.</p> + +<p>Percival Butler, the fourth son, father of General +Wm. O. Butler, was born at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, +in 1760. He entered the army as a lieutenant at the +age of eighteen; was with Washington at Valley +Forge; was in the battle of Monmouth, and at the +taking of Yorktown—being through the whole series +of struggles in the Middle States, with the troops +under the commander-in-chief, except for a short +period when he was attached to a light corps commanded +by La Fayette, who presented him a sword. +Near the close of the war he went to the South with +the Pennsylvania brigade, where peace found him. +He emigrated to Kentucky in 1784. He was the last of +the old stock left when the war of 1812 commenced. +He was made adjutant-general when Kentucky became +a State, and in that capacity joined one of the +armies sent out by Kentucky during the war.</p> + +<p>Edward Butler, the youngest of the five brothers, +was too young to enter the army in the first stages of +the Revolution, but joined it near the close, and had +risen to a captaincy when Gen. St. Clair took the +command, and led it to that disastrous defeat in which +so many of the best soldiers of the country perished. +He there evinced the highest courage and strongest +fraternal affection, in carrying his wounded brother +out of the massacre, which was continued for miles +along the route of the retreating army, and from which +so few escaped, even of those who fled unencumbered. +He subsequently became adjutant-general in +Wayne's army.</p> + +<p>Of these five brothers four had sons—all of whom, +with one exception, were engaged in the military or +naval service of the country during the last war.</p> + +<p>1st. General Richard Butler's son, William, died +a lieutenant in the navy, early in the last war. His +son, Captain James Butler, was at the head of the +Pittsburg Blues, which company he commanded in +the campaigns of the Northwest, and was particularly +distinguished in the battle of Massissinnawa.</p> + +<p>2d. Colonel William Butler, also of the revolutionary +army, had two sons, one died in the navy, +the other a subaltern in Wayne's army. He was in +the battle with the Indians in 1794.</p> + +<p>3d. Lieut. Col. Thomas Butler, of the old stock, +had three sons, the eldest a judge. The second, Col. +Robert Butler, was at the head of Gen. Jackson's +staff throughout the last war. The third, William E. +Butler, also served in the army of Gen. Jackson.</p> + +<p>4th. Percival Butler, captain in the revolutionary +war, and adjutant-general of Kentucky during the last +war, had four sons: first, Thomas, who was a captain, +and aid to Gen. Jackson at New Orleans. Next, Gen. +William O. Butler, the subject of this notice. Third, +Richard, who was assistant adjutant-general in the +campaigns of the war of 1812. Percival Butler, the +youngest son, now a distinguished lawyer, was not +of an age to bear arms in the last war. Of this +second generation of the Butler's, there are nine certainly, +and probably more, engaged in the present war.</p> + +<p>This glance at the family shows the character of +the race. An anecdote, derived from a letter of an +old Pennsylvania friend to the parents, who transplanted +it from Ireland, shows that its military instinct +was an inheritance. "While the five sons," says +the letter, "were absent from home in the service of +the country, the old father took it in his head to go +also. The neighbors collected to remonstrate against +it; but his wife said, 'Let him go! I can get along +without him, and raise something to feed the army +in the bargain; and the country wants every man +who can shoulder a musket.'" It was doubtless this +extraordinary zeal of the Butler family which induced +Gen. Washington to give the toast—"The Butlers, +and their five sons," at his own table, whilst surrounded +by a large party of officers. This anecdote +rests on the authority of the late Gen. Findlay, of +Cincinnati. A similar tribute of respect was paid to +this devoted house of soldiers by Gen. La Fayette, +in a letter now extant, and in the possession of a +lady connected with them by marriage. La Fayette +says, "<i>When I wanted a thing well done, I ordered +a Butler to do it.</i>"</p> + +<p>From this retrospect it will be seen that in all the +wars of the country, in the revolutionary war, in the +Indian war, in the last British war, and the present +Mexican war, the blood of almost every Butler able to +bear arms has been freely shed in the public cause. +Maj. Gen. William O. Butler is now among the highest +in the military service of his country; and he has +attained this grade from the ranks—the position of a +private being the only one he ever sought. At +the opening of the war of 1812, he had just graduated +in the Transylvania University, and was +looking to the law as a profession. The surrender +of Detroit, and the army by Hull, aroused the +patriotism and the valor of Kentucky—and young +Butler, yet in his minority, was among the first to +volunteer. He gave up his books, and the enjoyments +of the gay and polished society of Lexington, +where he lived among a circle of fond and partial +relations—the hope to gratify their ambition in shining +at the bar, or in the political forum of the state—to join +Capt. Hart's company of infantry as a private soldier.</p> + +<p>Before the march to join the northwestern army, +he was elected a corporal. In this grade he marched +to the relief of Fort Wayne, which was invested by +hostile Indians. These were driven before the Kentucky +volunteers to their towns on the Wabash, +which were destroyed, and the troops then returned +to the Miami of the lakes, where they made a winter +encampment. Here an ensign's commission in the +second regiment of United States infantry was tendered +to the volunteer corporal, which he declined, +unless permitted to remain with the northwestern +army, which he had entered to share in the effort of +the Kentucky militia to wipe out the disgrace of +Hull's surrender by the recapture of Detroit. His +proposition was assented to, and he received an +ensign's appointment in the seventeenth infantry, +then a part of the northwestern army, under the command +of Gen. Winchester. After enduring every +privation in a winter encampment, in the wildernesses +and frozen marshes of the lake country, awaiting +in vain the expected support of additional forces, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +the Kentucky volunteers, led by Lewis, Allen, and +Madison, with Well's regiment, (17th U. S.,) advanced +to encounter the force of British and Indians +which defended Detroit. On leaving Kentucky the +volunteers had pledged themselves to drive the +British invaders from our soil. These men and their +leaders were held in such estimation at home, that the +expectation formed of them exceeded their promises; +and these volunteers, though disappointed in every +succor which they had reason to anticipate—wanting +in provision, clothes, cannon, in every thing—resolved, +rather than lose reputation, to press on to +the enterprise, and to endeavor to draw on to them, +by entering into action, the troops behind. It is not +proper here to enter into explanations of the causes of +the disaster at the River Raisin, the consequence of +this movement, nor to give the particulars of the +battle. The incidents which signalized the character +of the subject of this memoir alone are proper here.</p> + +<p>There were two battles at the River Raisin, one +on the 18th, the other on the 22d of January. In the +first, the whole body of Indian warriors, drawn together +from all the lake tribes, for the defence of +Upper Canada against the approaching Kentuckians, +were encountered. In moving to the attack of this +formidable force of the fiercest, and bravest, and most +expert warriors on the continent, a strong party of +them were descried from the line with which Ensign +Butler advanced, running forward to reach a fence, +and hold it as a cover from which to ply their rifles. +Butler instantly proposed, and was permitted, to anticipate +them. Calling upon some of the most alert and +active men of the company, he ran directly to meet +the Indians at the fence. He and his comrades out-stripped +the enemy, and getting possession of the +fence, kept the advantage of the position for their +advancing friends. This incident, of however little +importance as to results, is worth remembrance in +giving the traits of a young soldier's character. It is +said that the hardiest veteran, at the opening of the +fire in battle, feels, for the moment, somewhat appalled. +And Gen. Wolfe, one of the bravest of men, +declared that the "horrid yell of the Indian strikes +the boldest heart with affright." The strippling +student, who, for the first time, beheld a field of +battle on the snows of the River Raisin, presenting in +bold relief long files of those terrible enemies, whose +massacres had filled his native State with tales of +horror, must have felt some stirring sensations. But +the crack of the Indian rifle, and his savage yell, +awoke in him the chivalric instincts of his nature; +and the promptitude with which he communicated +his enthusiasm to a few comrades around, and rushed +forward to meet danger in its most appalling form, +risking himself to save others, and secure a triumph +which he could scarcely hope to share, gave earnest +of the military talent, the self-sacrificing courage, and +the soldierly sympathies which have drawn to him +the nation's esteem. The close of the battle of the +18th gave another instance in which these latter traits +of Gen. Butler's character were still more strikingly +illustrated. The Indians, driven from the defences +around the town on the River Raisin, retired fighting +into the thick woods beyond it. The contest of sharp-shooting +from tree to tree was here continued—the +Kentuckians pressing forward, and the Indians retreating, +until night closed in, when the Kentuckians +were recalled to the encampment in the village. +The Indians advanced as their opposers withdrew, +and kept up the fire until the Kentuckians emerged +from the woods into the open ground. Just as the +column to which Ensign Butler belonged reached the +verge of the dark forest, the voice of a wounded man, +who had been left some distance behind, was heard +calling out most piteously for help. Butler induced +three of his company to go back in the woods with +him to bring him off. He was found, and they fought +their way back—one of the men, Jeremiah Walker, +receiving a shot, of which he subsequently died.</p> + +<p>In the second sanguinary battle of the River Raisin, +on the 22d of January, with the British and Indians, +another act of self-devotion was performed by Butler. +After the rout and massacre of the right wing, belonging +to Wells' command, the whole force of the +British and Indians was concentrated against the +small body of troops under Major Madison, that +maintained their ground within the picketed gardens. +A double barn, commanding the plot of ground on +which the Kentuckians stood, was approached on +one side by the Indians, under the cover of an +orchard and fence; the British, on the other side, +being so posted as to command the space between it +and the pickets. A party in the rear of the barn +were discovered advancing to take possession of it. +All saw the fatal consequences of the secure lodgment +of the enemy at a place which would present +every man within the pickets at close rifle-shot to the +aim of their marksmen. Major Madison inquired if +there was no one who would volunteer to run the +gauntlet of the fire of the British and Indian lines, and +put a torch to the combustibles within the barn, to +save the remnant of the little army from sacrifice. +Butler, without a moment's delay, took some blazing +slicks from a fire at hand, leaped the pickets, and +running at his utmost speed, thrust the fire into the +straw within the barn. One who was an anxious +spectator of the event we narrate, says, "that although +volley upon volley was fired at him, Butler, after +making some steps on his way back, turned to see +if the fire had taken, and not being satisfied, returned +to the barn and set it in a blaze. As the conflagration +grew, the enemy was seen retreating from the rear of +the building, which they had entered at one end, as +the flame ascended in the other. Soon after reaching +the pickets in safety, amid the shouts of his friends, +he was struck by a ball in his breast. Believing from +the pain he felt that it had penetrated his chest, turning +to Adjutant (now Gen.) McCalla, one of his +Lexington comrades, and pressing his hand to the +spot, he said, "I fear this shot is mortal, but while I +am able to move, I will do my duty." To the anxious +inquiries of this friend, who met him soon afterward, +he opened his vest, with a smile, and showed him that +the ball had spent itself on the thick wadding of his +coat and on his breast bone. He suffered, however, +for many weeks.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> + +<p>The little band within the pickets, which Winchester +had surrendered, after being carried himself a +prisoner into Proctor's camp, denied his powers. +They continued to hold the enemy at bay until they +were enabled to capitulate on honorable terms, which, +nevertheless, Proctor shamefully violated, by leaving +the sick and wounded who were unable to walk to +the tomahawk of his allies. Butler, who was among +the few of the wounded who escaped the massacre, +was marched through Canada to Fort Niagara—suffering +under his wound, and every privation—oppressed +with grief, hunger, fatigue, and the inclement +cold of that desolate region. Even here he forgot +himself, and his mind wandered back to the last +night scene which he surveyed on the bloody shores +of the River Raisin. He gave up the heroic part +and became the school-boy again, and commemorated +his sorrows for his lost friends in verse, like +some passionate, heart-broken lover. These elegiac +strains were never intended for any but the eye of +mutual friends, whose sympathies, like his own, +poured out tears with their plaints over the dead. +We give some of these lines of his boyhood, to show +that the heroic youth had a bosom not less kind than +brave.</p> + + +<h4>THE FIELD OF RAISIN.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +The battle's o'er! the din is past,<br /> +Night's mantle on the field is cast;<br /> +The Indian yell is heard no more,<br /> +An silence broods o'er Erie's shore.<br /> +At this lone hour I go to tread<br /> +The field where valor vainly bled—<br /> +To raise the wounded warrior's crest,<br /> +Or warm with tears his icy breast;<br /> +To treasure up his last command,<br /> +And bear it to his native land.<br /> +It may one pulse of joy impart<br /> +To a fond mother's bleeding heart;<br /> +Or for a moment it may dry<br /> +The tear-drop in the widow's eye.<br /> +Vain hope, away! The widow ne'er<br /> +Her warrior's dying wish shall hear.<br /> +The passing zephyr bears no sigh,<br /> +No wounded warrior meets the eye—<br /> +Death is his sleep by Erie's wave,<br /> +Of Raisin's snow we heap his grave!<br /> +How many hopes lie murdered here—<br /> +The mother's joy, the father's pride,<br /> +The country's boast, the foeman's fear,<br /> +In wilder'd havoc, side by side.<br /> +Lend me, thou silent queen of night,<br /> +Lend me awhile thy waning light,<br /> +That I may see each well-loved form,<br /> +That sunk beneath the morning storm.<br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>These lines are introductory to what may be considered +a succession of epitaphs on the personal +friends whose bodies he found upon the field. It +would extend the extract too far to insert them. We +can only add the close of the poem, where he takes +leave of a group of his young comrades in Hart's +company, who had fallen together.</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +And here I see that youthful band,<br /> +That loved to move at Hart's command;<br /> +I saw them for the battle dressed,<br /> +And still where danger thickest pressed,<br /> +I marked their crimson plumage wave.<br /> +How many filled this bloody grave!<br /> +Their pillow and their winding-sheet<br /> +The virgin snow—a shroud most meet!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But wherefore do I linger here?</span><br /> +Why drop the unavailing tear?<br /> +Where'er I turn, some youthful form,<br /> +Like floweret broken by the storm,<br /> +Appeals to me in sad array,<br /> +And bids me yet a moment stay.<br /> +Till I could fondly lay me down<br /> +And sleep with him on the cold, cold ground.<br /> +For thee, thou dread and solemn plain,<br /> +I ne'er shall look on thee again;<br /> +And Spring, with her effacing showers,<br /> +Shall come, and Summer's mantling flowers;<br /> +And each succeeding Winter throw<br /> +On thy red breast new robes of snow;<br /> +Yet I will wear thee in my heart,<br /> +All dark and gory as thou art.<br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>Shortly after his return from Canada. Ensign Butler +was promoted to a captaincy in the regiment to +which he belonged. But as this promotion was irregular, +being made over the heads of senior officers +in that regiment, a captaincy was given him in the +44th, a new raised regiment. When free from parole, +by exchange, in 1814, he instantly entered on +active duty, with a company which he had recruited +at Nashville, Tennessee. His regiment was ordered +to join General Jackson in the South, but +Captain Butler finding its movements too tardy, +pushed on, and effected that junction with his company +alone. Gen. Call, at that time an officer in +Capt. Butler's company, (since Gov. of Florida,) in +a letter addressed to Mr. Tanner of Kentucky, presents, +as an eye-witness, so graphically, the share +which Capt. Butler had in the campaign which followed, +that it may well supersede any narrative at +second hand.</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 20em;">"<i>Tallehasse, April</i> 3, 1844.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I avail myself of the earliest leisure I have had since +the receipt of your letter of the 18th of February, to give you a +reply.</p> + +<p>"A difference of political sentiments will not induce +me to withhold the narrative you have requested, +of the military services of Col. Wm. O. Butler, +during the late war with Great Britain, while attached +to the army of the South. My intimate association +with him, in camp, on the march, and in the field, has +perhaps made me as well acquainted with his merits, +as a gentleman and a soldier, as any other man living. +And although we are now standing in opposite +ranks, I cannot forget the days and nights we have +stood side by side, facing the common enemy of our +country, sharing the same fatigues, dangers, and privations, +and participating in the same pleasures and +enjoyments. The feelings and sympathies springing +from such associations in the days of our youth can +never be removed or impaired by a difference of +opinion with regard to men or measures, when each +may well believe the other equally sincere as himself, +and where the most ardent desire of both is to +sustain the honor, the happiness and prosperity of +our country.</p> + +<p>"Soon after my appointment in the army of the +United States, as a lieutenant, in the fall of 1814, I +was ordered to join the company of Capt. Butler, of +the 44th regiment of infantry, then at Nashville, +Tennessee. When I arrived, and reported myself, +I found the company under orders to join our regiment +in the South. The march, mostly through an +unsettled wilderness, was conducted by Capt. Butler +with his usual promptitude and energy, and by forced +and rapid movements we arrived at Fort Montgomery, +the head-quarters of Gen. Jackson, a short +distance above the Florida line, just in time to follow +our beloved general in his bold enterprise to drive +the enemy from his strong position in a neutral territory. +The van-guard of the army destined for the +invasion of Louisiana had made Pensacola its headquarters, +and the British navy in the Gulf of Mexico +had rendezvoused in that beautiful bay.</p> + +<p>"The penetrating sagacity of Gen. Jackson discovered +the advantage of the position assumed by +the British forces, and with a decision and energy +which never faltered, he resolved to find his enemy, +even under the flag of a neutral power. This was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +done by a prompt and rapid march, surprising and +cutting off all the advanced pickets, until we arrived +within gun-shot of the fort at Pensacola. The army +of Gen. Jackson was then so inconsiderable as to +render a reinforcement of a single company, commanded +by such an officer as Capt. Butler, an important +acquisition. And although there were several +companies of regular troops ordered to march from +Tennessee at the same time, Capt. Butler's, by his +extraordinary energy and promptitude, was the only +one which arrived in time to join this expedition. His +company formed a part of the centre column of attack +at Pensacola. The street we entered was defended +by a battery in front, which fired on us incessantly, +while several strong block-houses, on our +flanks, discharged upon us small arms and artillery. +But a gallant and rapid charge soon carried the guns +in front, and the town immediately surrendered.</p> + +<p>"In this fight Capt. Butler led on his company +with his usual intrepidity. He had one officer, Lieut. +Flournoy, severely wounded, and several non-commissioned +officers and privates killed and wounded.</p> + +<p>"From Pensacola, after the object of the expedition +was completed, by another prompt and rapid +movement, we arrived at New Orleans a few weeks +before the appearance of the enemy.</p> + +<p>"On the 23d of December the signal-gun announced +the approach of the enemy. The previous night they +had surprised and captured one of our pickets; had +ascended a bayou, disembarked, and had taken possession +of the left bank of the Mississippi, within six +miles of New Orleans. The energy of every officer +was put in requisition, to concentrate our forces in +time to meet the enemy. Capt. Butler was one of +the first to arrive at the general's quarters, and ask +instructions; they were received and promptly executed. +Our regiment, stationed on the opposite side, +was transported across the river. All the available +forces of our army, not much exceeding fifteen hundred +men, were concentrated in the city; and while +the sun went down the line of battle was formed; +and every officer took the station assigned him in the +fight. The infantry formed on the open square, in +front of the Cathedral, waiting in anxious expectation +for the order to move. During this momentary pause, +while the enemy was expected to enter the city, a +scene of deep and thrilling interest was presented. +Every gallery, porch and window around the square +were filled with the fair forms of beauty, in silent +anxiety and alarm, waving their handkerchiefs to +the gallant and devoted band which stood before them, +prepared to die, or defend them from the rude intrusion +of a foreign soldiery. It was a scene calculated +to awaken emotions never to be forgotten. It appealed +to the chivalry and patriotism of every officer +and soldier—it inspired every heart, and nerved every +arm for battle. From this impressive scene the army +marched to meet the enemy, and about eight o'clock +at night they were surprised in their encampment, +immediately on the banks of the Mississippi. Undiscovered, +our line was formed in silence within a +short distance of the enemy; a rapid charge was +made into their camp, and a desperate conflict ensued. +After a determined resistance the enemy gave +way, but disputing every inch of ground we gained. +In advancing over ditches and fences in the night, +rendered still more dark by the smoke of the battle, +much confusion necessarily ensued, and many officers +became separated from their commands. It more +than once occurred during the fight that some of our +officers, through mistake, entered the enemy's lines; +and the British officers in like manner entered ours. +The meritorious officer in command of our regiment, +at the commencement of the battle, lost his position +in the darkness and confusion, and was unable to regain +it until the action was over. In this manner, +for a short time, the regiment was without a commander, +and its movements were regulated by the +platoon officers, which increased the confusion and +irregularity of the advance. In this critical situation, +and in the heat of the battle, Capt. Butler, as the +senior officer present, assumed command of the regiment, +and led it on most gallantly to repeated and +successful charges, until the fight ended in the complete +rout of the enemy. We were still pressing on +their rear, when an officer of the general's staff rode +up and ordered the pursuit discontinued. Captain +Butler urged its continuance, and expressed the confident +belief of his ability to take many prisoners, if +permitted to advance. But the order was promptly +repeated, under the well-founded apprehension that +our troops might come in collision with each other, +an event which had unhappily occurred at a previous +hour of the fight. No corps on that field was more +bravely led to battle than the regiment commanded +by Capt. Butler, and no officer of any rank, save the +commander-in-chief, was entitled to higher credit for +the achievement of that glorious night.</p> + +<p>"A short time before the battle of the 8th of +January, Capt. Butler was detailed to command the +guard in front of the encampment. A house standing +near the bridge, in advance of his position, had been +taken possession of by the light troops of the enemy, +from whence they annoyed our guard. Capt. Butler +determined to dislodge them and burn the house. He +accordingly marched to the attack at the head of his +command, but the enemy retired before him. Seeing +them retreat, he halted his guard, and advanced himself, +accompanied by two or three men only, for the +purpose of burning the house. It was an old frame +building, weather-boarded, without ceiling or plaster +in the inside, with a single door opening to the British +camp. On entering the house he found a soldier of +the enemy concealed in one corner, whom he captured, +and sent to the rear with his men, remaining +alone in the house. While he was in the act of +kindling a fire, a detachment of the enemy, unperceived, +occupied the only door. The first impulse +was to force, with his single arm, a passage through +them, but he was instantly seized in a violent manner +by two or three stout fellows, who pushed him back +against the wall with such force as to burst off the +weather-boarding from the wall, and he fell through +the opening thus made. In an instant he recovered +himself, and under a heavy fire from the enemy, he +retreated until supported by the guard, which he immediately +led on to the attack, drove the British +light troops from their strong position, and burnt the +house in the presence of the two armies.</p> + +<p>"I witnessed on that field many deeds of daring +courage, but none of which more excited my admiration +than this.</p> + +<p>"Capt. Butler was soon after in the battle of the +8th of January, where he sustained his previously +high and well earned reputation for bravery and usefulness. +But that battle, which, from its important +results, has eclipsed those which preceded it, was +but a slaughter of the enemy, with trivial loss on our +part, and presenting few instances of individual distinction.</p> + +<p>"Capt. Butler received the brevet rank of major +for his gallant services during that eventful campaign, +and the reward of merit was never more worthily +bestowed. Soon after the close of the war, he was +appointed aid-de-camp to Gen. Jackson, in which +station he remained until he retired from the army. +Since that period I have seldom had the pleasure of +meeting with my valued friend and companion in +arms, and I know but little of his career in civil life. +But in camp, his elevated principles, his intelligence +and generous feelings, won for him the respect and +confidence of all who knew him; and where he is +best known, I will venture to say, he is still most +highly appreciated for every attribute which constitutes +the gentleman and the soldier.</p></div> + +<p style="margin-left: 8em;">"I am, sir, very respectfully,</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 20em;">"R. K. CALL."</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Mr. William Tanner.</span>"</p> + +<p>General Jackson's sense of the services of Butler, +in this memorable campaign, was strongly expressed +in the following letter to a member of the Kentucky +Legislature:</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> + +<p style="margin-left: 14em;">"<i>Hermitage, Feb.</i> 20, 1844.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"<span class="smcap">My Dear Sir,</span>—You ask me to give you my +opinion of the military services of the then Captain, +now Colonel, Wm. O. Butler, of Kentucky, during +the investment of New Orleans by the British forces +in 1814 and 1815. I wish I had sufficient strength to +speak fully of the merit of the services of Col. Butler +on that occasion; this strength I have not: Suffice it +to say, that on all occasions he displayed that heroic +chivalry, and calmness of judgment in the midst of +danger, which distinguish the valuable officer in the +hour of battle. In a conspicuous manner were those +noble qualities displayed by him on the night of the +23d December, 1814, and on the 8th of January, 1815, +as well as at all times during the presence of the British +army at New Orleans. In short, he was to be +found at all points where duty called. I hazard nothing +in saying that should our country again be engaged +in war during the active age of Col. Butler, he +would be one of the very best selections that could +be made to command our army, and lead the Eagles +of our country on to victory and renown. He has +sufficient energy to assume all responsibility necessary +to success, and for his country's good.</p></div> + +<p style="margin-left: 14em;">"ANDREW JACKSON."</p> + +<p>Gen. Jackson gave earlier proof of the high estimation +in which he held the young soldier who had +identified himself with his own glory at New Orleans. +He made him his aid-de-camp in 1816—which station +he retained on the peace establishment, with the rank +of colonel. But, like his illustrious patron, he soon +felt that military station and distinction had no charms +for him when unattended with the dangers, duties, +and patriotic achievements of war. He resigned, +therefore, even the association with his veteran chief, +of which he was so proud, and retired in 1817 to private +life. He resumed his study of the profession +that was interrupted by the war, married, and settled +down on his patrimonial possession at the confluence +of the Kentucky and Ohio rivers, in the noiseless but +arduous vocations of civil life. The abode which he +had chosen made it peculiarly so with him. The +region around him was wild and romantic, sparsely +settled, and by pastoral people. There are no populous +towns. The high, rolling, and yet rich lands—the +precipitous cliffs of the Kentucky, of Eagle, +Tavern and other tributaries which pour into it near +the mouth—make this section of the State still, to +some extent a wilderness of thickets—and the tangled +pea-vine, the grape-vine and nut-bearing trees, which +rendered all Kentucky, until the intrusion of the +whites, one great Indian park. The whole luxuriant +domain was preserved by the Indians as a pasture for +buffalo, deer, elk, and other animals—their enjoyment +alike as a chase and a subsistence—by excluding +every tribe from fixing a habitation in it. Its +name consecrated it as the dark and bloody ground; +and war pursued every foot that trod it. In the +midst of this region, in April, 1791, Wm. O. Butler +was born, in Jessamine county, on the Kentucky +River. His father had married, in Lexington, soon +after his arrival in Kentucky, 1782, Miss Howkins, +a sister-in-law of Col. Todd, who commanded and +perished in the battle of the Blue-Licks. Following +the instincts of his family, which seemed ever to +court danger, Gen. Pierce Butler, as neighborhood +encroached around him, removed, not long after the +birth of his son William, to the mouth of the Kentucky +River. Through this section the Indian warpath +into the heart of Kentucky passed. Until the +peace of 1794, there was scarcely a day that some +hostile Savage did not prowl through the tangled +forests, and the labyrinths of hills, streams and cliffs, +which adapted this region to their lurking warfare. +From it they emerged when they made their last formidable +incursion, and pushed their foray to the environs +of Frankfort, the capital of the State. General +Pierce Butler had on one side of him the Ohio, on the +farther shore of which the savage hordes still held +the mastery, and on the other the romantic region +through which they hunted and pressed their war enterprises. +And here, amid the scenes of border warfare, +his son William had that spirit, which has animated +him through life, educated by the legends of +the Indian-fighting hunters of Kentucky.</p> + +<p>To the feelings and taste inspired by the peculiarities +of the place and circumstances adverted to, must +be attributed the return of Col. Butler to his father's +home, to enter on his profession as a lawyer. There +were no great causes or rich clients to attract him—no +dense population to lift him to the political honors +of the State. The eloquence and learning, the industry +and integrity which he gave to adjust the controversies +of Gallatin and the surrounding counties, +would have crowned him with wealth and professional +distinction, if exhibited at Louisville or Lexington. +But he coveted neither. Independence, the +affections of his early associates, the love of a family +circle, and the charm which the recollection of a +happy boyhood gave to the scenes in which he was +reared, were all he sought. And he found them all +in the romantic dells and woodland heights of Kentucky, +and on the sides of the far spreading, gently +flowing, beautiful Ohio. The feeling which his sincere +and sensitive nature had imbibed here was as +strong as that of the Switzer for his bright lakes, +lofty mountains, and deep valleys. The wild airs of +the boat horn, which have resounded for so many +years from arks descending the Ohio and Kentucky, +floating along the current and recurring in echoes +from the hollows of the hills, like its eddies, became +as dear to him as the famous Rans de Vache to the +native of Switzerland. We insert, as characteristic +alike of the poetical talent and temperament of Butler, +some verses which the sound of this rude instrument +evoked when he returned home, resigning with rapture +"the ear piercing fife and spirit stirring drum" +for the wooden horn, which can only compass in its +simple melody such airs as that to which Burns has +set his beautiful words—</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +When wild war's deadly blast was blawn,<br /> +And gentle peace returning,<br /> +Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless,<br /> +And many a widow mourning;<br /> +I left the lines and tented field.<br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>The music of this song made the burden of the +"Boatman's Horn," and always announced the approaching +ark to the river villages.</p> + +<p>The sentiments of the poet, as well as the sweet +and deep tones which wafted the plaintive air over +the wide expanse of the Ohio, may have contributed +to awaken the feeling which pervade these lines.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> + +<h3>THE BOAT HORN.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +O, boatman! wind that horn again,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For never did the list'ning air</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Upon its lambent bosom bear</span><br /> +So wild, so soft, so sweet a strain—<br /> +What though thy notes are sad, and few,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By every simple boatman blown,</span><br /> +Yet is each pulse to nature true,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And melody in every tone.</span><br /> +How oft in boyhood's joyous day,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Unmindful of the lapsing hours,</span><br /> +I've loitered on my homeward way<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By wild Ohio's brink of flowers,</span><br /> +While some lone boatman, from the deck,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Poured his soft numbers to that tide,</span><br /> +As if to charm from storm and wreck<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The boat where all his fortunes ride!</span><br /> +Delighted Nature drank the sound,<br /> +Enchanted—Echo bore it round<br /> +In whispers soft, and softer still,<br /> +From hill to plain, and plain to hill,<br /> +Till e'en the thoughtless, frolick boy,<br /> +Elate with hope, and wild with joy,<br /> +Who gamboled by the river's side,<br /> +And sported with the fretting tide,<br /> +Feels something new pervade his breast,<br /> +Chain his light step, repress his jest,<br /> +Bends o'er the flood his eager ear<br /> +To catch the sounds far off yet dear—<br /> +Drinks the sweet draught, but knows not why<br /> +The tear of rapture fills his eye<br /> +And can he now, to manhood grown,<br /> +Tell why those notes, simple and lone,<br /> +As on the ravished ear they fall,<br /> +Bind every sense in magic spell?<br /> +There is a tide of feeling given<br /> +To all on earth, its fountain Heaven.<br /> +Beginning with the dewy flower,<br /> +Just oped in Flora's vernal bower—<br /> +Rising creation's orders through<br /> +With louder murmur, brighter hue—<br /> +That <i>tide</i> is sympathy! its ebb and flow<br /> +Give life its hues of joy and wo.<br /> +Music, the master-spirit that can move<br /> +Its waves to war, or lull them into love—<br /> +Can cheer the sinking sailor mid the wave,<br /> +And bid the soldier on! nor fear the grave—<br /> +Inspire the fainting pilgrim on his road,<br /> +And elevate his soul to claim his God.<br /> +Then, boatman! wind that horn again!<br /> +Though much of sorrow mark its strain,<br /> +Yet are its notes to sorrow dear;<br /> +What though they wake fond memory's tear!<br /> +Tears are sad memory's sacred feast,<br /> +And rapture oft her chosen guest.<br /></div> +<br /> +<p>This retirement, which may almost be considered +seclusion, was enjoyed by Col. Butler nearly twenty-five +years, when he was called out by the Democratic +party to redeem by his personal popularity the congressional +district in which he lived. It was supposed +that no one else could save it from the Whigs. Like +all the rest of his family, none of whom had made +their military service a passport to the honors and +emoluments of civil stations, he was averse to relinquish +the attitude he occupied to enter on a +party struggle. The importunity of friends prevailed; +and he was elected to two successive terms in Congress, +absolutely refusing to be a candidate a third +time. He spoke seldom in Congress, but in two or +three fine speeches which appear in the debates, a +power will readily be detected which could not have +failed to conduct to the highest distinction in that +body. Taste, judgment, and eloquence, characterized +all his efforts in Congress. A fine manner, an agreeable +voice, and the high consideration accorded to +him by the members of all parties, gave him, what it +is the good fortune of few to obtain, an attentive and +gratified audience.</p> + +<p>In 1844 the same experiment was made with +Butler's popularity to carry the state for the Democracy, +as had succeeded in his congressional +district. He was nominated as the Democratic candidate +for governor by the 8th of January Convention; +and there is good ground to believe that he would +have been chosen over his estimable Whig competitor, +Governor Owsley, but for the universal conviction +throughout the state that the defeat of Mr. Clay's +party, by the choice of a Democratic governor in +August, would have operated to injure Mr. Clay's +prospects throughout the Union, in the presidential +election which followed immediately after in November. +With Mr. Clay's popularity, and the activity +of all his friends—with the state pride so long +exalted by the aspiration of giving a President to the +Union—more eagerly than ever enlisted against the +Democracy, Col. Butler diminished the Whig majority +from twenty thousand to less than five thousand.</p> + +<p>The late military events with which Maj. Gen. +Butler has been connected—in consequence of his +elevation to that grade in 1846, with the view to the +command of the volunteers raised to support Gen. +Taylor in his invasion of Mexico—are so well known +to the country that minute recital is not necessary. +He acted a very conspicuous part in the severe conflict +at Monterey, and had, as second in command +under Gen. Taylor, his full share in the arduous duties +and responsibilities incurred in that important movement. +The narrative of Major Thomas, senior assistant +adjutant-general of the army in Mexico, and hence +assigned by Gen. Taylor to the staff of Gen. Butler, +reports so plainly and modestly the part which Gen. +Butler performed in subjecting the city, that it may +well stand for history. This passage is taken from it. +"The army arrived at their camp in the vicinity of +Monterey about noon September 19th. That afternoon +the general endeavored by personal observation +to get information of the enemy's position. He, like +Gen. Taylor, saw the importance of gaining the road +to Saltillo, and fully favored the movement of Gen. +Worth's division to turn their left, &c. Worth +marched Sunday, September 20th, for this purpose, +thus leaving Twiggs' and Butler's divisions with Gen. +Taylor. Gen. Butler was also in favor of throwing +his division across the St. John's river, and approaching +the town from the east, which was at first determined +upon. This was changed, as it would leave +but one, and perhaps the smallest division, to guard +the camp, and attack in front. The 20th the general +also reconnoitered the enemy's position. Early the +morning of the 21st the force was ordered out to +create a diversion in favor of Worth, that he might +gain his position; and before our division came within +long range of the enemy's principal battery, the foot +of Twiggs' division had been ordered down to the +northeast side of the town, to make an armed reconnoisance +of the advanced battery, and to take it if it +could be done without great loss. The volunteer +division was scarcely formed in rear of our howitzer +and mortar battery, established the night previous +under cover of a rise of ground, before the infantry +sent down to the northeast side of the town became +closely and hotly engaged, the batteries of that division +were sent down, <i>and we were then ordered to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +support the attack.</i> Leaving the Kentucky regiment +to support the mortar and howitzer battery, the +general rapidly put in march, by a flank movement, +the other three regiments, moving for some one and +a half or two miles under a heavy fire of round shot. +As further ordered, the Ohio regiment was detached +from Quitman's brigade, and led by the general (at +this time accompanied by Gen. Taylor) into the town. +Quitman carried his brigade directly on the battery +first attacked, and gallantly carried it. Before this, +however, as we entered the suburbs, the chief engineer +came up and advised us to withdraw, as the object of +the attack had failed, and if we moved on we must +meet with great loss. The general was loath to fall +back without consulting with Gen. Taylor, which he +did do—the general being but a short distance off. +As we were withdrawing, news came that Quitman +had carried the battery, and Gen. Butler led the Ohio +regiment back to the town at a different point. In the +street we became exposed to a line of batteries on +the opposite side of a small stream, and also from a +<i>tête de pont</i> (bridge-head) which enfiladed us. Our +men fell rapidly as we moved up the street to get a +position to charge the battery across the stream. +Coming to a cross-street, the general reconnoitered +the position, and determining to charge from that point, +sent me back a short distance to stop the firing, and +advance the regiment with the bayonet. I had just +left him, when he was struck in the leg, being on foot, +and was obliged to leave the field."</p> + +<p>"On entering the town, the general and his troops +became at once hotly engaged at short musket range. +He had to make his reconnoisances under heavy fire. +This he did unflinchingly, and by exposing his person—on +one occasion passing through a large gateway into +a yard which was entirely open to the enemy. When +he was wounded, at the intersection of the two streets, +he was exposed to a cross-fire of musketry and grape."</p> + +<p>"In battle the general's bearing was truly that of a +soldier; and those under him felt the influence of his +presence. He had the entire confidence of his men."</p> + +<p>The narrative of Major Thomas continues:</p> + +<p>"When Gen. Taylor went on his expedition to +Victoria, in December, he placed Gen. Butler in command +of the troops left on the Rio Grande, and at the +stations from the river on to Saltillo—Worth's small +division of regulars being at the latter place. Gen. +Wool's column had by this time reached Parras, one +hundred or more miles west of Saltillo. General +Butler had so far recovered from his wound as to walk +a little and take exercise on horseback, though with +pain to his limb. One night, (about the 19th December,) +an express came from Gen. Worth at Saltillo, +stating that the Mexican forces were advancing in +large numbers from San Luis de Potosi, and that he +expected to be attacked in two days. His division, +all told, did not exceed 1500 men, if so many, and he +asked reinforcements. The general remained up +during the balance of the night, sent off the necessary +couriers to the rear for reinforcements, and had the +1st Kentuckey, and the 1st Ohio foot, then encamped +three miles from town, in the place by daylight; and +these two regiments, with Webster's battery, were +encamped that night ten miles on the road to Saltillo. +This promptness enabled the general to make his +second day's march of twenty-two miles in good +season, and to hold the celebrated pass of Los Muertos, +and check the enemy should he have attacked Gen. +Worth on that day, and obliged him to evacuate the +town. Whilst on the next, and last day's march, the +general received notice that the reported advance of +the enemy was untrue. Arriving at the camp-ground, +the general suffered intense pain from his wound, and +slept not during the night. This journey, over a +rugged, mountainous road, and the exercise he took +in examining the country for twenty miles in advance +of Saltillo, caused the great increase of pain now +experienced."</p> + +<p>The major's account then goes on to relate Gen. +Butler's proceedings while in command of all the +forces after the junction of Generals Worth and Wool—his +dispositions to meet the threatened attack of +Santa Anna—the defences created by him at Saltillo, +and used during the attack at Buena Vista in dispersing +Miñon's forces—his just treatment of the people of +Saltillo, with the prudent and effectual precautions +taken to make them passive in the event of Santa +Anna's approach. It concludes by stating that all +apprehensions of Santa Anna's advance subsiding, +Gen. Butler returned to meet Gen. Taylor at Monterey, +to report the condition of affairs; and the latter, +having taken the command at Saltillo, transmitted a +leave of absence to Gen. Butler, to afford opportunity +for the cure of his wound.</p> + +<p>This paper affords evidence of the kind feeling +which subsisted between the two generals during the +campaign, and this sentiment was strongly evinced +by Gen. Butler, on his arrival in Washington, where +he spoke in the most exalted terms of the leader under +whom he served.</p> + +<p>In person Gen. Butler is tall, straight, and handsomely +formed, exceedingly active and alert—his +mien is inviting—his manners graceful—his gait and +air military—his countenance frank and pleasing—the +outline of his features of the aquiline cast, thin +and pointed in expression—the general contour of his +head is Roman.</p> + +<p>The character of Gen. Butler in private life is in fine +keeping with that exhibited in his public career. In +the domestic circle, care, kindness, assiduous activity +in anticipating the wants of all around him—readiness +to forego his own gratifications to gratify others, have +become habits growing out of his affections. His +love makes perpetual sunshine at his home. Among +his neighbors, liberality, affability, and active sympathy +mark his social intercourse, and unbending integrity +and justice all his dealings. His home is one +of unpretending simplicity. It is too much the habit +in Kentucky, with stern and fierce men, to carry their +personal and political ends with a high hand. Gen. +Butler, with all the masculine strength, courage, and +reputation to give success to attempts of this sort, never +evinced the slightest disposition to indulge the power, +whilst his well-known firmness always forbade such +attempts on him. His life has been one of peace with +all men, except the enemies of his country.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MATHEW_MIZZLE" id="MATHEW_MIZZLE"></a>MATHEW MIZZLE,</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +<h3>OF THE INQUIRING MIND.</h3> + +<h4>BY THE LATE JOSEPH C. NEAL.</h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 455px;"> +<img src="images/illus140.png" width="455" height="600" +alt="Matthew Mizzle" title="" /></div> +<h4>Matthew Mizzle</h4> + + +<p>How could he help it? Born with an inquiring +turn of mind, and gifted from the first with a disposition +toward experimental philosophy, by what processes +would you undertake to change the current of +Mathew Mizzle's mind? He is one of those who +take nothing for granted. A weight of authority is +little in his mind when compared to the personal investigation +of the fact—facts for the people, and for +himself as one of the people—that's the pivot on +which Mathew Mizzle turns and returns, one fact +being to his mind worth whole volumes of speculative +assumption; and to Mizzle all facts, let them relate +to what they may, are of peculiar interest. It is +useless to tell him so. He must go, see and examine +for himself. Often, for instance, as he had been told +that Gruffenhoff's big dog would bite at the aspect of +strange visitations, do you think that this species of +information would content the youthful Mizzle? +No—he must see into the matter for himself, and +ascertain it beyond the possibility of a doubt, by +touching up Gruffenhoff's big dog with a stick, as +the aforesaid big dog lay asleep in the sun, whereby +the demonstration was immediately afforded. The +big dog would bite—he did bite severely; and thus +the little Mizzle added another fact to his magazine +of knowledge, as well as an enduring scar to his person, +which placed the result upon record, and kept +memory fresh on the subject. One dog, at least, will +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +bite; and thenceforth, Mathew Mizzle admitted the +inference that dogs are apt to bite, under circumstances +congenial to such dental performances. If +you doubt it, there's the mark.</p> + +<p>"Burnee—burnee, baby," are the notes of warning +often heard in the nursery, when heated stoves become +an object of interest to little human specimens +just learning to creep. But "burnee, burnee," conveyed +no precise idea to the infantile Mizzle during +his preliminary locomotive operations; and in consonance +with the impulses of his nature, he soon +tried the stove in its most intense displays of caloric, +and in this way determined that "burnee, burnee," +was unpleasant to the person, and injurious to the +costume and raiment of that person, to say nothing +of its threatening dispositions toward the whole +establishment. "Burnee, burnee," to the house, as +well as "burnee, burnee," to the baby. And so also +as to lamps and candles—that they would "burnee" +too, was placed, painfully, beyond the impertinent +reach of a doubt in minds of the most sceptic order. +Mathew Mizzle can show you the evidences to this +day, scored, as it were, upon the living parchment, +and engrossed in characters not to be misunderstood +upon the cuticular binding of his physical identity.</p> + +<p>It was useless, also, to place the little Mathew at +the head of stairs, with information that any further +advance on his part would prove matter of injury. +How could he know until he had tried? Indeed, it +required several clear tumbles down an entire flight +to satisfy his judgment on this point, and to imprint +it on his mind, through the medium of his bumpology, +that the swiftest transition from one place to another, +especially when effected by the downward movement, +is not always the safest and the most agreeable. +But afterward, none knew better than he what is +meant by the word "landing," as applied to the staircase. +"The Landing of Columbus" may be celebrated +in pictures; but Mathew Mizzle accomplished +landings that made very nearly as much noise as that +effected by "the world-seeking Genoese," and the +voyages of both were accompanied by squalls.</p> + +<p>But it was not by the touch alone that Mathew +Mizzle sought after information in his earlier career. +His taste was equally curious. Strange bottles were +subjects of the most intense interest, so that like +Mithridates, he almost became proof against injury +by the frequent imbibings of poison. He knew that +pleasant draughts came from bottles, but had to learn +that because a bottle has contents, it does not necessarily +follow that these contents are either safe or +agreeable. Ink, for instance—a copious mouthful of +ink—however literary one may be, ink thus administered +is not a matter over which the recipient is +inclined greatly to rejoice. It did not appear so, at +least, when Mathew Mizzle, in frock and trowsers, +astonished, after this fashion, his mouth, his clothing +and the carpet—so astonished himself that he forgot +to reverse the bottle, but permitted it to pour in +a steady stream right into the aperture of his lovely +countenance. No one probably in the wide world +ever acquired a greater variety of knowledge, as to +the effect of substances of all kinds upon the human +palate, than was obtained by Mathew Mizzle in the +course of his earlier investigations into the relative +qualities of solids and liquids. A spoonful of Cayenne +pepper probably afforded him as much of surprise +as any thing of the same portable compass. +The varied expressions of his countenance would +have been a study to a Lavater. The opera-house +never witnessed a dance more remarkable for force +and for expression; and if ever Mathew Mizzle was +wide awake—wider than on any previous occasion, +it was when he had seasoned himself highly with +Cayenne. It made Mathew piquant to a degree; +and something of the same kind might have been +said of him when under the influence of mustard. +He was then the warmest boy anywhere about; and +fully appreciated the cheering influence of "the +castors"—he did not go upon castors for a long time +afterward, and never again to the same extent.</p> + +<p>There was another source of trouble to Mathew +Mizzle. His eyes proper were sharp enough; but +the knowledge they acquired was not sufficient to +satisfy his devouring thirst for information, and therefore +much of his seeing was done with the tips of +his fingers, or the grasp of his hands. He must touch +every thing, and of course spoilt many things. Leave +him alone in the room for a moment, and he would +open all the letters, peep into every drawer, smell at +every unknown substance, displace your china, spoil +your musical-box, climb up the piano-forte, and pull +over the vases of flowers. If you did not hear a +crash this time, do not flatter yourself. Some secret, +but equally important mischief has been accomplished, +though it may not be apparent for days. +The Mathew Mizzles always leave their mark; and +when a gun went off in his hands, the shot that fractured +the mirror rendered it fortunate that the mark +was only a mirror, as Mathew Mizzle roared with +terror at "the sound himself had made."</p> + +<p>Mathew Mizzle, grown as he is now to man's +estate, has perchance changed the objects of his pursuit, +but the activity both of his mind and of his body +remains undiminished. Curious as ever to ascertain +facts. He is one of those who have ever an eye +upon their neighbors. He follows people to ascertain +whither they are going. It is a favorite amusement +of his to peep through the blinds of an evening, +to ascertain what you and your family are about. He +listens at doors, and he peers through cracks and +patronizes knot-holes. If he can learn nothing else, +it is a satisfaction for him to ascertain what you are +about to have for dinner, and who stopped in to tea. +Speak over loud in the street, and Mathew Mizzle +saunters close at your elbow, but with such an unconscious +look, that you would never dream that he +had come merely for information.</p> + +<p>No one knows better than he all about the domestic +difficulties of families. His sources of intelligence +are innumerable. Sometimes you may find him on +the back fence, taking observations of the domestic +circle; and he has been seen of an evening up the +linden-tree in front of domiciles, for similar purposes. +The servants of the vicinage are all on confidential +terms with Mathew Mizzle; and—have you not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +noted the fact?—when you would have secret discourse +with a friend, Mizzle comes upon you, as the +birds of prey scent a battle-field. All secrets appear +to hold a species of telegraphic communication with +our friend Mathew Mizzle, as to the fact at least, that +there is a secret in existence, as well as a regard to +its local habitation.</p> + +<p>Ubiquitous Mathew Mizzle, yet invariably out of +place. Open the door suddenly, and Mathew Mizzle +is almost knocked down. Throw out a bucket of +water at night, and Mathew Mizzle is there to receive +its contents. Pass a stick through the key-hole, +and it's Mizzle's eye that suffers the detriment. You +stumble over him in dark entries—you find him lying +perdu in the closet. Go where you will, there is +Mizzle, if it be in the wrong place for Mizzle's +presence.</p> + +<p>Behold him prowling round the scenes to investigate +the mysteries of a theatrical performance. +There he is, just where he was told not to be, and +William Tell was not in fault that his arrow has +stricken Mathew Mizzle breathless. What business +had Mizzle there in Switzerland, lurking near the +walls of Altorf?</p> + +<p>Mizzle's last catastrophe, like the last catastrophe +of many other distinguished citizens, was effected by +means of a ladder, which he had ascended cautiously +by night, after the painters had left their work, to see +what was going on in the chamber of a second story. +Suddenly, there was a dog at the bottom of the aforesaid +ladder, and a cudgel at the top, presenting the +alternatives of a dilemma. Switches above and bark +below, what could the unfortunate Mathew Mizzle +do but surrender himself a prisoner of war? Poor +Mizzle! They put him under the pump, and made +him acquainted with the nature of ducks.</p> + +<p>Is it not a pity that the system of "espionage" does +not obtain in America, that Mathew Mizzle might +have a field for the exercise of the qualities which +are so remarkably developed in his constitution? It +would be a perfect union of duty and of pleasure, if +he could be employed to find out every thing that +goes on in town and about, and it is a great pity that +means could not be devised to save so fine a young +man from the waste of his genius.</p> + +<p>"People are so fussy about their secrets," says he, +"as if there were any use of having secrets, if it +were not for the fun of finding them out and talking +about them. It's mean and selfish to abridge intelligence +in that sort of way, and if I knew of any +country where they manage matters on a different +system, I'd emigrate right away, I would. A pretty +piece of business, to put a man under the pump, +because he seeks after knowledge."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SHAWANGUNK_MOUNTAIN" id="SHAWANGUNK_MOUNTAIN"></a>SHAWANGUNK MOUNTAIN.</h2> + +<h4>BY ALFRED B. STREET.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Before the plough had scattered fields of grain<br /> +And grassy orchards midst the oaken woods<br /> +Of Shawangunk, upon the mountain's top<br /> +Stood a wood-cutter's hut. Himself and wife<br /> +Shared it alone. The spot was green and sweet.<br /> +The earth was covered with a velvet sward,<br /> +Grouped with low thickets, here and there a tree<br /> +Rearing its dark rich foliage in the heavens.<br /> +<br /> +Pleasant the echoes of his fast plied axe,<br /> +Merrily rattling through the mountain-woods,<br /> +To those who sought the old surveyor's road<br /> +For shade and coolness; and amidst the sounds<br /> +Would boom deep heavy shocks of falling trees,<br /> +Like growls of thunder in the noontide-hush,<br /> +So that the eye would glance impulsively<br /> +Up to the tree-tops, to discern the peak<br /> +Of the ascending cloud.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">His forest-life,</span><br /> +Though rude, was joyous. When the mellow charm<br /> +Of sunset on the smiling mountains lay,<br /> +The creaking of his high-piled cart would blend<br /> +With song or whistle blithe, as, dipping down<br /> +The road, he sought the village in the midst<br /> +Of the green hollow. This slight mountain-road<br /> +Went slanting to the summit, with blazed trunks<br /> +On either side, and soft delicious grass<br /> +Spreading its carpet; one faint track alone<br /> +Telling that wheel had e'er its beauty scarred.<br /> +Close to the hut it passed, then downward plunged,<br /> +And sought the level of the opposite side.<br /> +<br /> +'T was at the close of one cold winter day<br /> +That down this road I trod. My weary steps,<br /> +With efforts vain, had tracked, for hours, the deer,<br /> +And now, with empty flask and rifle, swift,<br /> +I journeyed homeward. Nature's great bright eye<br /> +Low beaming in the west, still poured sweet light<br /> +Upon the mountain. The pure snow, all round,<br /> +In delicate rose-tints glowed. The hemlocks smiled,<br /> +Speckled with gold. The oak's sear foliage, still<br /> +Tight clinging to the boughs, was kindled up<br /> +To warm rich brown. The myriad trunks and sprays<br /> +Traced their black lines upon the soft snow-blush<br /> +Beneath, until it seemed a tangled maze.<br /> +Upon the mountain's top, a thread of smoke<br /> +From the low cabin rose, as though a streak<br /> +Of violet had been painted on the air.<br /> +I heard the ring of the wood-cutter's axe,<br /> +And, through an opening, saw his instrument<br /> +Flashing into a walnut's giant stem,<br /> +Whose upborne mass, in the fast lowering light,<br /> +Seemed cut in copper. A broad wind-fall near<br /> +Let down my eyes upon the hollow. White<br /> +In snow it lay, with long and dusky lines<br /> +Of fences crossing—groups of orchard-trees—<br /> +Hay-barracks—barns and long low dwelling-roofs.<br /> +Straight as an arrow ran the streak of road<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +Athwart the hollow. As I looked, the eye<br /> +In the red west sank lower, till half quenched<br /> +Behind the upland, then a shred of light<br /> +Glittered and vanished, and the sky was bare.<br /> +<br /> +Whilst gazing on this splendor, suddenly<br /> +I heard a shriek. Shrill, ringing midst the woods<br /> +In piercing clearness, through my ears it cut,<br /> +And left a sense of deafness. Startled, round<br /> +I gazed. Again the horrid sound thrilled past.<br /> +I knew it then as the terrific cry<br /> +Of the fierce, bloody panther. In our woods<br /> +Naught fiercer, bloodier dwells, when roused by rage<br /> +Or hunger. Oft our hunters had of late<br /> +Marked the huge foot-prints of the ravenous beast,<br /> +And heard his scream at midnight, but no eye<br /> +As yet had seen him. With a nervous grasp<br /> +Upon my useless weapon, and a weight<br /> +Of helplessness, like lead, upon my soul,<br /> +I started on my path. At every step<br /> +I thought his tawny form and fierce green eye<br /> +Would meet my sight, upon some limb o'erhead.<br /> +But naught was seen. The village soon I reached,<br /> +And gladly crossed the threshold of my home.<br /> +<br /> +The long, cold, breathless night came swiftly down.<br /> +The clear, magnificent moon seemed not inlaid<br /> +In the bright blue, but stood out bold, distinct,<br /> +As though impending from the cloudless skies<br /> +Glittering with frost. Upon the sparkling snow<br /> +The rich light slept in such sweet purity<br /> +As naught on earth can match. The hours sped on,<br /> +The silver day still shone serene and clear,<br /> +And twinkled on the crystals shooting round.<br /> +Gazing once more upon the splendid scene,<br /> +Before I sought the couch, my wandering eye<br /> +Glanced at the mountain. There it grandly stood<br /> +A giant mass of ivory. On the spot<br /> +Where the steep slanting road the hollow joined,<br /> +My sight a moment dwelt, for there I last<br /> +Had swept around a quick and piercing gaze,<br /> +In search of the gaunt monster whose keen cry<br /> +Still echoed in my ears. Is that a spot<br /> +Of shadow flickering in some transient breeze?<br /> +No. O'er the hollow, gliding swift, it comes.<br /> +Is it the ravenous panther, fierce for blood,<br /> +Seeking the village? Closer as it speeds<br /> +A clearer shape it shows—a human form—<br /> +'T is the wood-cutter's wife! She loudly shrieks,<br /> +"My husband—lost—wake, wake!" the moonlight falls<br /> +Upon her features swollen with tears. A band<br /> +Of villagers was soon aroused, and forth<br /> +We sallied toward the mountain. So intense<br /> +The cold, the snow creaked shrilly at our tread,<br /> +And the strewed diamonds on its surface flashed<br /> +Back the keen moonlight. As we trod along,<br /> +The wife in breathless haste, her story told,<br /> +How, when the sunset fell, she watched to see<br /> +Her husband's form swift speeding up the road,<br /> +From the side-clearing, at that wonted hour,<br /> +Toward his low roof. The sunset died, and night<br /> +Sprang on the earth; the absent one came not.<br /> +The moon moved up; the latch-string was not pulled<br /> +For entrance in the cabin. Hours sped on.<br /> +And still, upon the silvered snow, no form<br /> +Her gaze rewarded. Once she heard afar<br /> +A panther's shriek. Her fear to frenzy rose.<br /> +To the side-clearing sped she; naught was there<br /> +But solitude and moonlight. As she told<br /> +Her tale I shuddered. In my ear again<br /> +Rang the fierce shriek I heard as sunset glowed,<br /> +And my flesh crept with horror. Up we trod<br /> +Our mountain snow-path speedily. At length,<br /> +To where the narrow opening in the woods<br /> +Led from the road, we came. 'T was at this spot<br /> +I stood, and watched the form and flashing axe<br /> +Of him, the lost. We passed within. The moon<br /> +Threw on the little clearing a full flood<br /> +Of radiance. There the crusted wood-pile stood;<br /> +There was the walnut with a ghastly notch<br /> +Deep in its heart. A ledge of rock rose up<br /> +Beside the wounded tree, and at its base<br /> +A space of blackest hue proclaimed a chasm.<br /> +No life was stirring on the brilliant waste;<br /> +The trees rose like a wall on every side<br /> +But where the ledge frowned darkly. As I checked<br /> +My footsteps at the half-hewn walnut, drops<br /> +Thick sprinkled round—the snow stamped down—an axe<br /> +Lying upon the high wreathed roots, my gaze,<br /> +As with a charm, arrested. From this spot<br /> +Large prints and a broad furrow stretched along<br /> +To the black chasm within the rocky ledge.<br /> +We clustered round the mouth. A low, deep growl<br /> +Came from the depths. Two orbs of flashing fire<br /> +Glared in the darkness. Brace, the hunter, aimed<br /> +His rifle just between the flaming spots,<br /> +And fired. Fierce growls and gnashings loud of teeth<br /> +Blent with the echoes, and then all was still.<br /> +The spots were seen no more. A few had brought<br /> +Splinters of pine for torches, and the flint<br /> +Supplied the flame. With one hand grasping tight<br /> +A hatchet keen, the other a bright torch,<br /> +The dauntless hunter ventured, with slow steps,<br /> +Within the cavern. Soon a shout we heard,<br /> +And Brace appeared, with all his giant strength<br /> +Dragging a lifeless panther. In again<br /> +He passed, and then brought out a human form,<br /> +Mangled and crushed. A shriek pealed wild and high,<br /> +And, swooning, sank the wife upon the snow,<br /> +Beside the dead. With silent, deep-felt awe<br /> +We bore both to the hut. A sudden cloud<br /> +Rose frowning from the north, and deep and fierce<br /> +Howled the loosed tempest. From her death-like swoon,<br /> +Roused by our care, the hapless wife poured out<br /> +Her cries and wailings. Through the livelong night<br /> +We heard her moans and screams and ravings wild,<br /> +Blending with all those stern and awful tones<br /> +That the scourged forest yields. But morning dawned,<br /> +And brought the widowed and the broken heart<br /> +The peace of death. Beside the lonely hut,<br /> +Two graves were opened in the frozen snow,<br /> +And silence then fell deeply on the spot.<br /> +No more the smoke curled up. No more the axe<br /> +Rang in the mountain; and a few short years<br /> +Leveled the cabin with the forest-earth,<br /> +Midst spreading bushes, fern and waving grass.<br /></div> +<br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="INNOCENCE" id="INNOCENCE"></a>INNOCENCE.</h2> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Let me, lamb-like, share caresses,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From thy hand that knows not stain;</span><br /> +Flowers that woo, the smile that blesses,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hours that pass and leave no pain!</span><br /> +<br /> +Be with me in sleeping, waking;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Be with me in toil and rest;</span><br /> +Living, thine; and, life forsaking,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let me slumber on thy breast!</span><br /></div> +<br /> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;"> +<img src="images/illus149.png" width="382" height="600" +alt="Innocence" title="" /></div> +<h4>INNOCENCE</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_DRAMA_OF_REAL_LIFE" id="A_DRAMA_OF_REAL_LIFE"></a>A DRAMA OF REAL LIFE.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +<h3>(IN A LETTER FROM N. P. WILLIS TO THE EDITOR OF GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE.)</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">To Geo. R. Graham, Esq.</span></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 20em;"><i>New York, December</i> 1, 1847.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—By to-night's mail should go to you a +piece of mental statuary, which is yet in a marble +block of the reluctant quarry of my brain—due to you +by agreement on the first of December, one unconceived +tale! But though we do so strangely bargain +the invisible wares of the imagination, deliverable, +like merchandize, on a certain day, the contractor is +still liable to the caprices of the world he trades from, +and your order on me for fancy yet undug, must, I +fear, be protested. You would not believe me if I were +to tell you literally why. But the truth is that I, and +a certain cave (mentioned by Humboldt, on the banks +of the Oronookoo, which he calls a "subterranean +organ,") can only give out music in certain states of +the weather. With the dry, sharp, icy north wind of +the last few days, I could no more write than I could +supply electricity to Morse's wire.</p> + +<p>But—no failure is <i>quite</i> twenty shillings in the +pound. What say you to the assets? The statue will +not be forth coming—but will you have the model, +after which the undug block was to have been +chiseled? Shall I send you the literal truth which I +had intended to drape with imagination—tell the facts +of real life which I had designed to weave into a +story. I shall thus, at least, clear <i>yourself</i> of the +non-fulfillment of the promise of your pre-advertised +contents, and (engaging to send you a story properly +completed for the next number) shall effect, perhaps, +a compromise for my delinquent punctuality.</p> + +<p>This, then, is the thread of literal truth which was +to have run through the fancy-woof of my story.</p> + +<p>Some years ago, after a year or two of residence in +different cities of Italy, I found myself very much at +home in Naples. It was an unusually gay season—the +concentration of the rank and fashion of the +floating society of travelers varying between Rome, +Florence, and Naples, very much as it does, in our +country, between the different watering-places—by +caprices that no one can foresee. The English people +of rank, more particularly, were in very great force; +and the blonde moustaches, so much admired in the +dark-haired South, and the skins of alabaster and +rose, so envied by the brunettes of Italy, abounded +at the balls and in the public places. The king kept +very gay court, the royal entertainments accessible to +all strangers properly introduced, and the ambassadors +and bankers, nobles and wealthy strangers, seemed to +want twice as many nights and mornings in the week, +so conflicting were the balls and breakfasts, driving-parties +and dinners.</p> + +<p>As, of course, an unobserved looker-on in scenes +of such brilliant rivalry and display, I had more attention +to spare than most whom I met; and I soon +found myself—eyes, mind, fancy, and interest, absorbed +in one study—a new revelation of a type of +woman. We are accustomed to see the sex in +classes—hundreds of a kind—and find them sufficiently +absorbing as nouns of multitude. It is probably +one of Heaven's principles of human safety, +that women are made in "lots" so like, that a transfer +of a slighted heart, from an unwilling beauty to some +willing likeness of her, safely vents the volcano. +Proportionately dangerous, however, are those rare +women—of whom a man sees, perhaps, one or two +in his life—who are the only ones of their type and +kind; for, out of love for them, their is no exit but +through their hearts.</p> + +<p>You are going too fast if you fancy I am about to +record a fruitless passion of my own. Though of +"easy wax," I am not stamped, except by will of the +imprintress; and my only cobweb thread of personal +remembrance is a horseback excursion to Camaldoli, +in which I played the propriety-third to the best of +my discretion. It is necessary to define thus much, +to redeem my estimate of the lady from the imputation +of mere fancy. Had I known her intimately, or +not known her at all, my judgment of her would be +less reliable. In just the position for untroubled and +most favorable observation, I studied her in silence +through that brilliant season, and laid away her image +(as one does without more than one or two choked-down +aspirations) to people castles in the air, and fill +niches in the temple of dreams.</p> + +<p>The foregoing prepares you for a portrait of the +proposed heroine of my story—but that you would +have had, had the story been written. I never could +draw a picture of a woman but from the life, and to that +fictitious tale I should have transferred, with studied +and careful truthfulness, the enamel portrait burnt in +upon my memory, and which you would have admired +my fancy for conceiving. Oh! the mistake of supposing +that we can imagine things brighter than we +have seen with our eyes—that there is any kingdom +of air, visitable by poets, which is comparable to the +glorious world we live in, with its <i>some</i> women, <i>some</i> +sunsets, <i>some</i> strains of music, and <i>some</i> fore-tasted +heaven-thrills of emotion.</p> + +<p>The heir to one of the oldest titles of England was +the husband of this lady. The fortunes of his family +had been wasted; and they had lived for a generation +or two in comparative obscurity, when the present +Lord —— came of age. He had been educated carefully, +but was of great personal beauty, and I thought +when I first saw him, was as fine a model as I had +ever seen of the quiet, reserved, self-intrenched +school of modern English manners. With his beauty +and his title, though with little or no estate, he had +easily married a lady of fortune—the only daughter +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +of a retired banker. And this heiress, Lady ——, is +the one whose story I would have told through a veil +of fiction.</p> + +<p>The Countess of —— was an unsurpassed horsewoman, +and rode constantly. Her blood-horses had +been sent round by ship from England; and she was +always mounted on an animal whose every fibre +seemed obedient to her thought, and with whose motion +every line of her own tall and slenderly-rounded +person, and every ringlet of her flowing, golden curls +seemed in a correspondence governed by the very +spirit of beauty. She rode with her rein loose, and +her mind apparently absorbed with any thing but +her horse. A turn of her head, or the pressure of her +foot upon his shoulder, was probably the animal's +guidance. But, of an excessively impassioned nature, +she conversed in the saddle with the expression and +gesture of the most earnest untrammeling of mind, +and, in full speed, as in the repose upon a lounge in a +saloon, she carried away the listener with her uncalculating +and passionate absorption—no self-possession, +however on its guard it might be, able, apparently, +to withstand the enveloping and resistless +influence which she herself was a slave to. Unconsciousness +of every thing in the world, except the +feeling she was pouring from her soul, seemed the +only and every-day condition and law of her nature; +and supreme as she was in fashion of dress, and style +of manner, these seemed matters learned and lost +thought of—she having returned to nature, leaving +her triumphs as a belle to be cared for by infallible +habit. A separate spirit of light, speaking from the +lips of the most accomplished and best perfected of +women—the spirit, and the form possessed, being +each in full exercise of their best faculties—could +scarcely have conveyed more complete impressions +of wondrous mind, in perfect body, or have blended +more ravishingly, the entireness of heavenly with +the most winning earthly development. She was +an earnest angel, in the person of a self-possessed and +unerringly graceful woman.</p> + +<p>I chanced to be looking on, when Prince ——, one +of the brothers of a royal family of central Europe, +was presented to the Countess ——. It was at a +crowded ball; and I observed that, after a few minutes +of conversation with her, he suddenly assumed a ceremonious +indifference of manner, and went into another +room. I saw at once that the slightness of the +attention was an "anchor to windward," and that, in +even those few minutes the prince had recognized a +rare gem, and foreseen that, in the pursuit of it, he +might need to be without any remembered particularity +of attention. Lady ——- conversed with +him with her usual earnest openness, but started a +little, once or twice, at words which were certainly +unaccompanied by their corresponding expression of +countenance; and this, too, I put down for an assumption +of disguise on the part of the prince. It was +natural enough; with his conspicuous rank, he could +only venture to be unguarded in his attentions to +those for whom he had no presentiment of future +intimacy.</p> + +<p>That the progress of this acquaintance should +assume for me the interest of a drama—a scene of it +played every night, with interludes every day, in +public drives and excursions—would not be wonderful +to you, could I have drawn the portrait of the +principal performer in it, so that you would understand +its novelty. I had never seen such a woman, +and I was intensely interested to know how she +would bear temptation. The peculiar character of +the prince I easily understood; and I felt at once, +that of all stages of an accomplished man's progress, +he was at the one most dangerous to her, while, +perhaps, no other kind of woman in the world would +have called upon any but very practiced feelings of +his own. He was of middle age, and had intellect +enough to have long anticipated the ebb of pleasure. +With his faculties and perceptions in full force, he +was most fastidious in permitting himself to enjoy an +enthusiasm, to admire, to yield to, or to embark upon +with risk. The admiration of mere beauty, mere +style, mere wit, mere superiority of intellect in woman, +or of any of these combined, was but a recurrent +phase of artificial life. He had been to the terminus, +the farthest human capability of enjoyment of this, +and was now back again to nature, with his keenest +relish in reserve, looking for such outdoings of art as +nature sometimes shows in her caprices. In the +Countess —— he recognized at once a rare miracle +of this—a woman whose beauty, whose style, whose +intellect, whose pride, were all abundant, but, abundant +as they were, still all subservient to electric +and tumultuous <i>sensation</i>. Her life, her impulse—the +consciousness with which she breathed—was the +one gift given her by Heaven in tenfold measure, +and her impression on those she expanded to, was +like the magnetizing presence of ten full existences +poured into one. The heart acknowledged it before +her—though the reason knew not always why.</p> + +<p>Lord —— would scarce have been human had he +not loved such a woman, and she his wife. He did +love her—and doubtless loves her at this hour with +all the tenderness of which he could ever be capable. +If they had lived only on their estates in England, +where seclusion would have put up no wall of concealment +to his feelings, she might have drawn from +the open well of his heart, the water for which her +ardent being was athirst. But with the usage of +fashionable life, he followed his own amusements +during the day, leaving the countess to hers; and in +scenes of gayety they were, of course, still separated +by custom; and all she enjoyed of nature in her rides, +or of excitement in society, was, of course, with +others than her husband. Naples is in the midst of +palace-gardens, and of wonders of scenery—in seeing +which love is engendered in the bosom and brain +with tropical fruitfulness—and Lady —— could no +more have lived that year in Italy without passionate +loving, than she could have stayed from breathing the +fragrance of the orange blossoms, when galloping +between the terraced gardens of Sorrento.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When abroad, a little more than a year ago, I +made a visit to a friend, whose estate is in the same +county with that of the father of Lady ——, and between +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +whose park-gates and his extends the distance +of a morning's drive through one of the loveliest +hedged winding-roads of lovely England. A very +natural inquiry was of the whereabout and happiness +of the Countess of ——, whom I had left at Naples +ten years before, and had not been in the way of +hearing of since; and I named her in the gay tone +with which one speaks of the brilliant and happy. +We were sitting at the dinner-table, and I observed +that I had mis-struck a chord of feeling in the company +present, and with well-bred tact, the master of +the house informed me that misfortunes had befallen +the family since the period I spoke of, and turned the +conversation to another topic. After dinner, I heard +from him the following outline of the story, and its +affecting sequel.</p> + +<p>Near the close of the season when Lord —— was +at Naples, he suddenly left that city and returned +with his wife and their one child to England. To the +surprise of the wondering world, Lady —— went to +her father's, and Lord —— to the small estate of his +widowed mother, where they remained for a while in +unexplained seclusion. It was not long before rumors +arrived from Italy, of a nature breathing upon +the reputation of the lady; and soon after a formal +separation took place, Mr. ——, her father, engaging +to leave his whole fortune to the son of Lord ——, +if that nobleman would consent to give him to the +exclusive keeping of his mother. With these facts +ended the world's knowledge of the parties, the separated +pair remaining, year after year, in absolute +seclusion; and Lady —— never having been known +to put foot beyond the extending forest in which her +home was hidden from view, and the gates to which +were guarded from all entrance, even of family +friends.</p> + +<p>It was but a few days before this sequel was narrated +to me, that the first communication had been +made from the Countess of —— to her husband. It +was a summons to attend, if he wished, the burial of +his only child—the heir of his name, and the bringer-back, +had he lived, of wealth to the broken fortunes +of his title. A severer blow could hardly have followed +the first—for it struck down heart, pride, and +all that could brighten this world's future. Lord —— +came. The grave was made in a deep grove of firs +on the estate of the boy's mother. There were but +three mourners present—herself, her father, and her +husband. The boy was ten or eleven years old +when he died, and one of the most gifted and noble +lads, in mind and person, that had ever been seen by +those who knew him. On his horse, with his servant +behind him, the young boy-lord was a constant sight +of pride and beauty to the inhabitants of the county, +and was admired and beloved every where he rode +in his daily excursions.</p> + +<p>The service was read; the two parents stood side +by side at the grave, while the body was laid in it—the +first time they had met since their separation, and +both in the prime of life, and with hearts yearning—both +hearts, beyond a doubt—with love, and longing +for forgiveness; and when the earth rang on the +coffin, they <i>parted without exchanging a word</i>. The +carriage of Lord —— waited for him in the avenue; +and with the expiring echo of his wheels through +that grove of fir-trees, died all hope and prospect, if +any had been conceived, of a re-union, in grief, of +these proud broken-hearted.</p> + +<p>I have told you thus, with literal truth, all that I +could know of this drama of real life; but, of course, +its sketchy outline could be easily filled out by fancy. +Your readers, perhaps, will like to do this for themselves.</p></div> + +<p style="margin-left: 14em;">Yours truly,</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 20em;"><span class="smcap">N. P. Willis.</span></p> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LINES_TO_mdash" id="LINES_TO_mdash"></a>LINES TO ——.</h2> + +<h4>BY CAROLINE F. ORNE.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Like a cloud of the summer sunset<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gleaming across the blue,</span><br /> +Like a star of the golden twilight<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Through the misty evening dew,</span><br /> +Like a strain of heavenly music<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Breathed mournfully and low,</span><br /> +Charming the heart to sadness<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By its bewildering flow—</span><br /> +Thou camest to my presence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the far off long-ago.</span><br /> +Thou camest for a moment,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then fleeted swift away,</span><br /> +As the rosy cloud of sunset<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fades at the close of day,</span><br /> +As the beaming star of twilight<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Withdraws its golden ray.</span><br /> +Thou hast past from out my presence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As the songs low cadence dies,</span><br /> +Which the heart seeketh ever,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And evermore it flies.</span><br /> +Oh, in my weary journeying<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come to me yet once more,</span><br /> +While still my footsteps wander<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On Time's uncertain shore.</span><br /> +Come to me, oh, sweet vision<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of what my soul has sought,</span><br /> +And with mine once more mingle<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy far, sky-piercing thought.</span><br /> +Call I in vain thy spirit?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Do I seek thee all in vain?</span><br /> +Shall I never hear thy accent<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In music fall again?</span><br /> +Why didst thou cross my pathway,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh soul so pure and true?</span><br /> +To fade like the clouds of sunset.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like the star from the misty blue?</span><br /></div> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AUTUMNAL_SCENERY" id="AUTUMNAL_SCENERY"></a>AUTUMNAL SCENERY.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +<h3>WHAT IS NECESSARY TO THE ENJOYMENT OF NATURE'S BEAUTIES.</h3> + +<h4>BY JOSEPH R. CHANDLER.</h4> + + +<p>I am not of those who think that a true enjoyment +of the beauties of nature, of natural scenery, and +natural objects, generally, is a test of the purity of +principle or the delicacy of sentiment, any more than +I hold that a love of music is essential to domestic, +social or political virtue. The cultivation of the eye +and the ear—or the capabilities in those organs for +cultivation—have more to do with all this than many +seem to allow; and men and women of the purest +principles, and the highest benevolence, may stand +within the loveliest scenes that nature has ever +spread out, or may listen to the most delicious music +that art has ever prepared and performed, without +comprehending the beauties or the excellence of +either, or imagining that there is a moral test applied +to them in these attractions. Nevertheless, there is +an enjoyment in such scenes and such sounds, and +those who are permitted to share therein have another +life—or such an additional enjoyment added to <i>that</i> +of ordinary minds, that they seem to live more, if not +longer, in such pleasures than the common allotment; +and none, I suspect, will doubt that the indulgence of +a taste for natural beauties tends to soften the mind, +soothe the passions, and thus elevate the feelings and +aspirations.</p> + +<p>If I have less of the power of appreciating and enjoying +rural sights and rural sounds, if there is vouchsafed +to me a <i>limited</i> capability of understanding and +delighting in the beauties of the field and wood, of +gathering pleasure from the outstretched loveliness +of land and stream, still I thank God; and I speak +with reverence, I thank God that I have <i>some</i> pleasure +in these things; and more than that, I have a +certain fixed delight in noticing the enjoyment which +the better formed and higher cultivated mind derives +from what a good Providence has poured out for the +decoration of the earth. Humble as this faculty may +be, which is partly exercised through intermediate +objects, I find it useful to me, and, still better, I find +that it ministers to other pleasures—to enjoy what is +lovely is a high and a cultivated talent—the enjoyment +of that loveliness with another kindred or more +elevated mind is a yet higher attainment, as the performance +of <i>concerted</i> music is more difficult and +more gratifying than a simple solo.</p> + +<p>Rarely within my recollection, and that is as inclusive +as the remembrance of almost any around +me, rarely has an autumn been more delightful than +that which has just closed, in its clear, shining sunlight, +or more attractive for its bland and healthful +temperature. Not leisure—for that I have little to +boast of, or to <i>fear</i>. Let my young readers mark +that word, <i>fear</i>. I am not about to write a homily +upon the uses of time and talents, but let me parenthetically +note that the gift of enjoying leisure is so +rare in the young, that a lack of constant occupation +should be rather feared than courted. I do not speak +of the danger of flagrant vice, but of a growing propensity +to disregard portions of time, because only +<i>portions</i> may be necessary to the discharge of admitted +duties—the danger is imminent—but not to the +young alone. In youth, love of action <i>may</i> employ +the leisure to the promotion of vice in age, a tendency +to inertness may induce the abuse of the leisure to +total inaction. I can hardly imagine any object more +unsightly than an idle old man—the dead trunk of a +decayed tree, marring the landscape and injuring culture. +But I must return. Not leisure, for I have +little of that to boast of or fear; not leisure, but a +love, a growing love for the partial solitude of the +field, and something of an enjoyment of the elevating +communion which it leaves, sent me more than once +in November last strolling beyond the dusty roads +and noisy turnpike in the vicinity of our city. It +was, as I have reason to recollect, on the eighteenth +of November, that I was wandering observantly, but +in deep contemplation, across some of the fields that +lie near the road leading from the city to Frankford. +It was a lovely day, and every feeling of my heart +was consonant to the scene. Ascending a little +eminence, I obtained an extensive view. The forest +trees had lost their rich garb of mottled beauties, and +their denuded limbs stretched out with attenuated +delicacy, seemed to streak the distant horizon with +darkened lines. On my right the winding Delaware +lay stretched out in glassy beauty, and near me, +glittering in the sunlight beyond, were a thousand +gossamer webs that had survived a recent storm. +The fields were unusually green, for the season, as +if the year were clothing itself, like an expiring prelate, +with its richest habiliments, that its departure +might leave the impress of that beauty which comes +from its usefulness. I had yielded to the influences +of the scene, had allowed my feeling to predominate, +and was in the midst of an unwonted abstraction +from all ordinary cares and relations, catching something +of that state with which the more gifted are indulged, +when I was startled by the sound of footsteps +upon the carpet-like grass around me.</p> + +<p>"Hardly looking for game here?" said the person +inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"And without dog and gun?" said I.</p> + +<p>"There's not much game in these parts," said he.</p> + +<p>"And yet I was hunting!" said I. "Hunting +pleasure from the prospect."</p> + +<p>"I do not derive much pleasure," said my companion, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +"from such things. Almost all fields are +alike to me. Generally they are places for labor, or +they lie between my residence and labor, and thus +make a toilsome distance."</p> + +<p>"But do you not enjoy the pleasure of this scene? +Do you not, while looking abroad from some eminence, +feel a sensation different from what you experience +while walking on the turnpike?"</p> + +<p>"Most generally. I think there was once or twice +a feeling came over me here which I did not exactly +understand."</p> + +<p>"And when was that?"</p> + +<p>"Always on Sunday morning, as I have been +crossing the field to attend service at the church +yonder. I could not tell whether it was a sense of +relief from ordinary labor, or something connected +with the service in which I was about to join; but, +certainly, the fields, and woods, and water beyond, +had a different appearance, and seemed to affect me +differently from their ordinary influence. Perhaps +as these feelings are recent, they may have sprung +from another cause."</p> + +<p>"If the beauties of nature, and the influence of religious +aspirations could not account for those feelings +which you experienced, I can scarcely tell +whence you derived the sensation."</p> + +<p>"I suppose that all beauties are not discernable +at once, and our sympathies are not all awakened by +a single exhibition of what may be productive of +delight or sorrow. Whatever of pleasure I have +derived from the beauties observable from such +places as this, are not primarily referable to my own +powers of application, but rather from the lessons +of another—lessons derived from a few words, and +from constant example."</p> + +<p>"And, pray, what <i>example</i> could open to you new +beauties in a landscape, or develop attractions in a +scene which you had been in the habit of seeing for +many years?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know that any one has taught me by +word and example to see from any point of observation, +aught that I had not discerned before, but it is +certain that what was unnoticeable became an object +of contemplation, and points of the scenery have +been made to harmonize by association, when +viewed separately, they had little that was attractive.</p> + +<p>"A few years since, a young lady, I think of +European birth, was brought to live in the house +which stands near yonder clump of trees; her situation +seemed that of an humble companion to the +lady—but her services and her influence made her +more than loved. I never saw more affection exhibited +than all of the household manifested toward +her. I cannot tell you what means she used to acquire +such a mastery over the love of all around +her, but, though less within the influence of her +attractive manners than some others, I yet shared +in the general feeling of regard. She was a frequent +visiter to a small eminence in this immediate +neighborhood, and I often followed her thither, +though I was careful not to reach the place until her +departure; and then I have gone around as she did, +looking at the various points of the scenery, to try +to have the enjoyment which was imparted to her +from the visits. Once I came when she was here, +and met a condescension entirely hidden in kindness; +she called my attention to what she designated +the numerous beauties of the place, and subsequently +I went frequently to the spot to look at +what she had pointed out, and I think I occasionally +derived some new pleasure from the scene. I am +not able now to say whether that pleasure was the +result of new capacities to behold beauties, or +whether it was consequent upon my respect for +her who had imparted the lesson. Perhaps both.</p> + +<p>"There was a young man, a relative of Mrs. ——, +with whom this lady resided, that came frequently to +the house. I never saw a person apparently more winning +in his manner, or more delicate in his attentions; +and, as all expected, he proposed for marriage to the +young woman. It was thought that there would be +objections on the part of <i>his</i> relations—and there were; +but they came from the gentleman of the house, who +plainly declared that the young man was not worthy +of the woman he sought. Her heart, it was evident, +was concerned; it was whispered, I know not how +truly, that the youth had associations in the city unworthy +his relations at home. But when do the +young and confiding ever regard monitions of this +kind. She, whose good sense had restored order to +a family that needed direction, and had sustained her +against all adverse circumstances among strangers, +could not influence her against the pleadings of her +own heart. The young man, more than a year since, +received a commission, and joined the army at +Mexico. He left with her a sealed paper, and his +favorite dog. The animal was already most affectionately +attached to her, and now became her constant +companion. Never did I see an animal so completely +devoted to a human being; never was kindness +more reciprocated than was that of the companion +of her walks; he patiently awaited at the door of the +church for the conclusion of the services, and at night +held vigils beneath her window. I think the dog, +too, must have understood something of the beauty +of this scenery; for I have seen him for an hour together +standing wistfully beside his mistress, and +gazing up into her face, and then not meeting with an +encouraging look, stretching his sight far away in the +direction of her eyes, as if determined to share with +her whatever contributed to her pleasure or her pain.</p> + +<p>"Less than four months ago news reached the family +of the death of the young man—I do not remember +the exact time, or the place of the engagement in +which he fell—but his death produced deep sensation +in the family generally, but it went to the heart +of the young lady. I saw her once or twice on her +favorite place in the field, but I dared not approach +her—she had no companion but the faithful dog. In +two weeks she was confined to her bed—and shortly +afterward the family was plunged in new afflictions +by her death. I was inquiring of one of the family +relative to the particular disease of which she died, +and heard it suggested that it might have been a +rapid consumption."</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> + +<p>"I think not," said a very little girl, who had +shared in the affectionate instruction of the deceased.</p> + +<p>"And why?"</p> + +<p>"Can the heart of a person break to pieces?" +asked the child.</p> + +<p>"The heart may be broken," I said.</p> + +<p>"Then that is it—for I heard mamma tell sister +that Miss Mary's heart was broken."</p> + +<p>"I have noticed that the death of an affianced one +is more severely felt by a woman, as a severe disturbance +of affection, than is the death of a husband. +And I suppose this comes from the delicacy of a +maiden that shrinks from the utterance of a grief +which finds vent and sympathy with a widow. I +never hear of such a bereavement without deeper +sorrow for the survivor's sufferings, than I have for +the mourning wife. God help her who's crushed +by a grief that she may not openly indulge; who +must hide in her bosom the fire that is consuming +her life."</p> + +<p>The sealed paper was reopened; it contained a rich +bequest to the young woman, and with it was a small +piece of paper, containing <i>her</i> request to be buried +beyond us, whence she had so often contemplated +the scene around us. The field was her own property, +by the will of the young man. She relinquished +all else of his gift. "We buried her <i>there</i>. I say +<i>we</i>—for though my position was far below hers, +yet none felt more deeply her loss than those who +looked up to admire her. The little paling that surrounds +the eminence was erected to keep away the +foot of the thoughtless. Shall we go to see the +grave?"</p> + +<p>I followed the man into the enclosure. The sods +which covered the grave of Mary had not yet united; +and one or two seemed to be worn, as if they had +been treated with some rudeness. I drew the attention +of my guide to the abrasion.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes! that is poor Lara's doings," said he. +"Poor dog! I looked around for him at the funeral, +expecting to see him at the grave, but was disappointed. +Every evening since the funeral, just +before the sun goes down, and often in the morning—the +hours in which Miss Mary was wont to come +hither to enjoy the scenery—poor Lara has been +seen stretched out upon the grave, uttering his grief +in a low wail. I scarcely believe that he will recover +from the loss he has sustained; and others +might be equally unconsolable, if they did not feel +that it is better with Mary now than when she +lived."</p> + +<p>When I had looked downward to the grave for a +time, and almost into it, that I might the better contemplate +the character and end of her who rested +there, my companion drew my attention to the +beauty of what was around us.</p> + +<p>"Miss Mary loved to stand here," said he, "and +enjoy the rich sunset. Mark, now, how richly its +beams are thrown from the windows of yonder +Gothic house beyond the turnpike, and on the new +dwelling a little this side. A mellowness is in that +light, to soothe where it falls; and the whispering of +the southern wind that we now hear, is like the +cries of spirits communing with their good sister +below us."</p> + +<p>"You seem now to enjoy the scenery, my friend," +said I, "as much as almost any other person."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I have felt, of late, a growing fondness for +this place and this scene; and last Sunday, when returning +from the afternoon service, I stood here +almost wrapt in the pleasure which the place afforded +to the departed one, and I have since come to believe +that there is something more than book-knowledge +necessary to the relish of natural scenery."</p> + +<p>"May I ask what that <i>something</i> is, which you +think assists us to appreciate the beauty of a landscape?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir—perhaps I am wrong, you certainly +know better than I—but, it appears to me, my +growing sense of enjoyment in this scene is due to +the memory of the virtues of her whom I constantly +connect with this place, and that enjoyment is fixed +and augmented by the frame of mind in which I go +to, or come from the place of worship."</p> + +<p>"If I understand you correctly, you have come +to the conclusion that to enjoy nature, our hearts +must be touched, and our affections mellowed by +earthly sympathies, and our views expanded and +elevated by a sense of religious duties."</p> + +<p>"Something like that, sir."</p> + +<p>"And is not that what is understood by '<span class="smcap">LOVE TO +GOD, AND LOVE TO MAN</span>?'"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="POETRY_A_SONG" id="POETRY_A_SONG"></a>POETRY.—A SONG.</h2> + +<h4>BY GEORGE P. MORRIS.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +To me the world's an open book<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of sweet and pleasant poetry;</span><br /> +I read it in the running brook<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That sings its way toward the sea:</span><br /> +It whispers in the leaves of trees,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The swelling grain, the waving grass.</span><br /> +And in the cool fresh evening breeze<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That crisps the wavelets as they pass.</span><br /> +<br /> +The flowers below—the stars above—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In all their bloom and brightness given,</span><br /> +Are, like the attributes of love,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The poetry of earth and heaven.</span><br /> +Thus Nature's volume, read aright,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Attunes the soul to minstrelsy,</span><br /> +Tinging life's clouds with rosy light,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And all the world with poetry.</span><br /></div> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MOURNER" id="THE_MOURNER"></a>THE MOURNER.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +<h4>BY THE LATE DR. JOHN D. GODMAN.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Why is thy visage o'ershadowed by gloom,</span><br /> +Are Nature's enchantments not scattered around,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has the rose lost her fragrance, the tulip her bloom,</span><br /> +Has the streamlet no longer its mild, soothing sound?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Say what are thy pleasures—or whence is thy bliss,</span><br /> +In thy breast can no movements of sympathy rise?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Canst thou glance o'er a region so lovely as this,</span><br /> +And no bright ray of pleasure enliven thine eyes?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where are there fields more delightfully drest,</span><br /> +In a verdure still fresh'ning with every shower?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Here are oak-covered mountains, with valleys of rest,</span><br /> +Richly clothed in the blossoming sweet scented flower.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Why lingerest thou ever to gaze on that star,</span><br /> +Sinking low in the west e'er the twilight is o'er?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While the shadows of evening extending afar</span><br /> +Bid the warbler's blithe carol be poured forth no more,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh why when the Sabbath bell's pleasantest tone</span><br /> +Wakes the soul of devotion in song to rejoice,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are thy features with sorrow o'erclouded alone,</span><br /> +While no sounds but of sadness are heard from thy voice?<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Listen, while I tell thee, stranger!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">In a brief and hurried measure:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Though my soul drink not of pleasure,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Though mine eyes be sunk in gloom;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tis not from fear of coming danger,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Nor yet from dread of doom.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The youngest leaves must fall,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When summer beams have ceased to play;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And may not sorrow spread her pall,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When joy, and hope, and love decay?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Earth's loveliest scenes;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The boons of heaven most cherished;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Fields dressed in gladdening greens,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are drear, when hope has perished:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Spring's beauteousness,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Followed by summer's glory,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">May fade without the power to bless,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As doth a dreaméd story.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">It gives me peace to gaze at even,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Watching the latest, faintest gleam</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Of yon bright traveler of heaven,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Reflected in the silver stream;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">For she I love has gently leaned—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While my fond heart with bliss was swelling—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Upon my arm, to see descend</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That brilliant star in light excelling.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The chiming bells give joy no more,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Long since the tones have lost their sweetness;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">They now but wake me to deplore</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The bliss that fled with air-like fleetness.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Blame not my sorrow: chilling pride</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor clouds my brow nor kills the smile;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">For loss of wealth I never sighed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But all for her I mourn the while.</span><br /> +She was my all, my fairest, dearest, best;<br /> +I loved—I lost her—tears may speak the rest.<br /></div> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ELSIE" id="ELSIE"></a>ELSIE.</h2> + +<h4>BY KATE DASHWOOD.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +A young white rose-bud—with its leaves<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just blown apart, and wet with dew—</span><br /> +A fair child in a garland weaves<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Mid glowing flowers of every hue.</span><br /> +She sitteth by the rushing river,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While the soft and balmy air</span><br /> +Scarce stirs the starry flowers that quiver<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Amid her sunny hair—</span><br /> +Thou of the laughing eyes! 'mid all<br /> +The roses of thy coronal—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou'rt fairest of the fair.</span><br /> +<br /> +Ah, bright young dreamer! may thy heart<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In its early freshness ever be</span><br /> +Pure as the leaves—just blown apart—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of the rose thou'rt wreathing in childish glee.</span><br /> +Ah, well I know those flowers thou'rt twining<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For thy fair pale mother dear—</span><br /> +For the love-light in those blue eyes shining<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is shadowed by a tear;</span><br /> +And thy thoughts are now in that dim, hushed room—<br /> +With the sad, sweet smile, and the fading bloom—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Thou'rt all too young to fear.</i></span><br /></div> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SONNET_TO_mdash" id="SONNET_TO_mdash"></a>SONNET TO ——.</h2> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The crimson clouds had gathered round the sun,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sinking full slowly to his nightly rest,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And gilding with a glory all his own</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The bannered splendor of the glowing west,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Entranced I gazed upon the gorgeous scene</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That thus so fair before my vision lay;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The calm, serene, blue heavens looked out between,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And softly smiled upon retiring day.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All was so beautiful, I could but feel</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A shade of sadness that thou wert not nigh,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The radiant glory to behold with me;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And still the thought would o'er my spirit steal,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That all the clouds and mists in my dark sky</span><br /> +Would gather rays of glory, my life's sun, from thee!<br /></div> + +<p style="margin-left: 20em;">C. O.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GAME-BIRDS_OF_AMERICA_NO_VIII" id="GAME-BIRDS_OF_AMERICA_NO_VIII"></a>GAME-BIRDS OF AMERICA.—NO. VIII.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +<h3>AMERICAN STARLING OR MEADOW-LARK.</h3> + + +<p>This well-known inhabitant of our meadows +like the Partridge, is sociable, somewhat gregarious, +and partially migratory. The change of country, +however, appears to be occasioned only by scarcity +of food, and many of them pass the whole winter +with us. They may be bought in our markets when +snow is on the ground; and in the month of February, +Wilson found them picking up a scanty subsistence +in the company of the snow-birds, on a road +over the heights of the Alleghanies. Its flight, like +that of the Partridge, is laborious and steady. +Though they collect their food from the ground, they +are frequently shot on trees, their perch being either +the main branches, or the topmost twigs. At the +time of pairing, they exhibit a little of the jealous +disposition of the tribe, but his character vindicated +by his bravery, and the victory achieved, he retires +from his fraternity to assist his mate in the formation +of her nest. The flesh of the Meadow-Lark is +white, and for size and delicacy, it is considered +little inferior to the Partridge. In length, he measures +ten and a half inches, in alar extent, nearly seventeen. +Above, his plumage, as described by Nuttall, +is variegated with black, bright bay, and ochreous. +Tail, wedged, the feathers pointed, the four outer +nearly all white; sides, thighs, and vent, pale +ochreous, spotted with black; upper mandible +brown, the lower bluish-white; iris, hazel; legs and +feet, large, pale flesh-colour. In the young bird +the color is much fainter than in the adult.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 546px;"> +<img src="images/illus175.png" width="546" height="600" +alt="Rice Bunting" title="" /></div> +<h4>RICE BUNTING. (<i>Emberiza Oryzivora.</i> <span class="smcap"> +Wilson</span>.)</h4> + +<p>This is the Rice and Reed-Bird of Pennsylvania +and the Southern States, and the Boblink of New +York and New England. He is of little size, but +of great consequence, hailed with pleasure by the +sportsman and the epicure, and dreaded as worse +than a locust by the careful planter. Wilson has +treated of him fully, and from his eloquent account +we shall endeavor to select a few points in his +history worthy of notice. According to his best +biographer, then, three good qualities recommend +him, particularly as these three are rarely found in +the same individual—his plumage is beautiful, his +song highly musical, and his flesh excellent. To +these he added the immense range of his migrations, +and the havoc he commits. The winter residence +of this species is from Mexico to the Amazon, from +whence they issue in great hosts every spring. In +the whole United States, north of Pennsylvania, +they remain during the summer, raising their progeny; +and as soon as the young are able to fly they +collect together in great multitudes, and pour down +on the oat-fields of New England. During the +breeding season, they are dispersed over the +country; but as soon as the young are able to fly, +they collect together in great multitudes, like a +torrent, depriving the proprietors of a good tithe of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +their harvest, but in return often supply his table +with a very delicious dish. From all parts of the +north and western regions they direct their course +toward the south, and about the middle of August, +revisit Pennsylvania, on their route to winter quarters. +For several days they seem to confine themselves +to the fields and uplands; but as soon as the +seeds of the reed are ripe, they resort to the shores +of the Delaware and Schuylkill in multitudes; and +these places, during the remainder of their stay, +appear to be their grand rendezvous. The reeds, +or wild oats, furnish them with such abundance of +nutritious food, that in a short time they become extremely +fat, and are supposed by some of our epicures +to be equal to the famous Ortolans of Europe. +Their note at this season is a single chuck, and is +heard overhead, with little intermission from morning +till night. These are halcyon days for our +gunners of all descriptions, and many a lame and +rusty gun-barrel is put in requisition for the sport. +The report of musketry along the reedy shores of +the Delaware and Schuylkill is almost incessant, +resembling a running fire. The markets of Philadelphia, +at this season, exhibit proofs of the prodigious +havoc made among these birds, for almost +every stall is ornamented with some hundreds of +Reed Birds.</p> + +<p>The Rice Bunting is seven inches and a half long, +and eleven and a half in extent. His spring dress +is as follows: upper part of the head, wings, tail, +and sides of the neck, and whole lower parts, black; +the feathers frequently skirted with brownish-yellow, +as he passes into the color of the female; +back of the head, a cream color; back, black, +seamed with brownish-yellow; scapulars, pure +white; rump and tail coverts the same; lower part +of the back, bluish-white; tail, formed like those of +the Woodpecker genus, and often used in the same +manner, being thrown in to support it while ascending +the stalks of the reed; this habit of throwing in +the tail it retains even in the cage; legs, a brownish +flesh color; hind heel, very long; bill, a bluish-horn +color; eye, hazel. In the month of June this +plumage gradually changes to a brownish-yellow, +like that of the female, which has the back streaked +with brownish-black; whole lower parts, dull-yellow; +bill, reddish-flesh color; legs and eyes as in the male. +The young birds retain the dress of the female until +early in the succeeding spring. The plumage of +the female undergoes no material change of color.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 507px;"> +<img src="images/illus180.png" width="507" height="600" +alt="Cedar Bird" title="" /></div> +<h4>CEDAR BIRD. (<i>Ampelis Americana.</i>)</h4> + +<p>The Cedar-Bird, (<i>Ampelis Americana</i>,) is very +frequently shot at the same time with the Robin. +The plumage of this bird is of an exquisitely fine +and silky texture, lying extremely smooth and +glossy. The name Chatterers has been given to +them, but they make only a feeble, lisping sound, +chiefly as they rise or alight. On the Blue Mountains, +and other ridges of the Alleghanies, they +spend the months of August and September, feeding +on the abundant whortleberries; then they descend +to the lower cultivated parts of the country to feed +on the berries of the sour gum and red cedar. In +the fall and beginning of summer, when fat, they are +in high esteem for the table, and great numbers find +purchasers in the market of Philadelphia. They +have derived their name from one kind of their +favorite food; from other sorts they have also been +called Cherry Birds, and to some they are known +by the name of Crown Birds.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="REVIEW_OF_NEW_BOOKS" id="REVIEW_OF_NEW_BOOKS"></a>REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.</h2> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>The Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck. Now first +collected. Illustrated with Steel Engravings, from drawings +by American Artists. New York: D. Appleton & Co. +1 vol. 8vo.</i></p></div> + +<p>This volume is a perfect luxury to the eye, in its typography +and embellishments. The fact of an author's appearance +in so rich a dress, is itself an evidence of his +popularity. We have here, for the first time, a complete +edition of the author's poems, tender and humorous, serious +and satirical, in a beautiful form. It contains Alnwick +Castle, Burns, Marco Bozzarris, Red Jacket, A Poet's +Daughter, Connecticut, Wyoming, and other pieces which +have passed into the memory of the nation, together with +the delicious poem of Fanny, and the celebrated Croaker +Epistles. The illustrations are all by American artists, +and really embellish the volume. The portrait of Halleck +is exceedingly characteristic of the man, expressing that +union of intellect and fancy, sound sense, and poetic power, +which his productions are so calculated to suggest. His +great popularity—a popularity which has always made the +supply of his poems inferior to the demand—will doubtless +send the present magnificent volume through many editions.</p> + +<p>The poems of Halleck are not only good in themselves, +but they give an impression of greater powers than they +embody. They seem to indicate a large, broad, vigorous +mind, of which poetry has been the recreation rather than +the vocation. A brilliant mischievousness, in which the +serious and the ludicrous, the tender and the comic, the +practical and the ideal, are brought rapidly together, is the +leading characteristic of his muse. In almost every poem +in his volume, serious, or semi-serious, the object appears +to be the production of striking effects by violent contrasts. +The poet himself rarely seems thoroughly in earnest, though +at the same time he never lacks heartiness. There are +two splendid exceptions to this remark—Burns, and Marco +Bozzarris—poems in which the delicacy and energy of the +author's mind find free expression. They show that if the +poet commonly plays with his subject, it is not from an incapacity +to feel and conceive it vividly, but from a beautiful +willfulness of nature, which is impatient of the control of +one idea or emotion. Halleck's perceptions of the ideal +and practical appears equally clear and vivid. His fancy +cannot suggest a poetical view of life, without his wit at +the same time suggesting its prosaic counterpart in society. +A mind thus exquisitely sensitive both to the beautiful and +laughable sides of a subject—looking at life at once with +the eye of the poet and the man of the world—naturally +finds delight in a fine mockery of its own idealisms, and +loves to sport with its own high-raised feelings. His +poetry is not, therefore, so much an exhibition of the real +nature and capacity of the man, as of the play and inter-penetration +of his various mental powers, in periods of +pleasant relaxation from the business of life. In a few instances, +we think, his humorous insight has been deceived +from the unconscious influence upon his mind of the sentiment +of Byron and Moore. Thus he occasionally falls +into the exaggerations of misanthropy and sentimentality. +In his poem entitled Woman, we are informed that man +has no constancy of affection,—</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">His vows are broke,</span><br /> +Even while his parting kiss is warm;<br /> +But woman's love all change will mock,<br /> +And, like the ivy round the oak,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cling closest in the storm.</span><br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>Here, for the purpose of a vivid contrast, there is a sacrifice +of poetic truth. The same piece closes with asserting that +the smiles and tears of woman,</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Alone keep bright, through Time's long hour,<br /> +That frailer thing than leaf or flower,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A poet's immortality.</span><br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>Here the thought, redeemed as it is by beautiful expression, +is worthy only of a sentimental poetaster of the +Della Cruscan school; and we can easily imagine what a +mocking twinkle would light the eye of its author, if some +one should tell him that Homer, Dante, Shakspeare, and +Milton were "kept bright" by the smiles and tears of +woman. These, and one or two other passages in Halleck, +are unworthy of his manly and cant-hating mind; and it +is wonderful how they could have escaped his brilliant +good sense.</p> + +<p>Fanny, and the Croaker Epistles are the most brilliant +things of their kind in American literature, full of wit, +fancy, and feeling, and in all their rapid transitions, characterized +by an ethereal lightness of movement, a glancing +felicity of expression, which betray a poet's plastic touch +equally in the sentiment and the merriment. No American +poems have been more eagerly sought after, and more provokingly +concealed, than these. Three editions of Fanny +have been published, but the difficulty of obtaining a copy +has always been great. Many who were smitten with a +love for it have been compelled to transcribe it from the +copy of a more fortunate collector. The Croaker Epistles +have been even more cunningly suppressed. Now we +have both in a form which will endure with the stereotype +plates. They evince the most brilliant characteristics of +Halleck's genius, and continually suggest the thought, that +if the mind of the author be so powerful and various in +its almost extempore sport and play, it must have still +greater capacity in itself.</p> + +<p>Fanny, and the Croaker Epistles swarm with local and +personal allusions which a New-Yorker alone can fully +appreciate. Van Buren, Webster, Clinton, the politicians +and authors generally of the period when the poems were +written, are all touched with a light and graceful pencil. +Fanny is conceived and executed after the manner of +Byron's Beppo and Don Juan. It is full of brilliant +rogueries, produced by bringing sentiment and satire +together with a shock. For instance,</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Dear to the exile is his native land,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In memory's twilight beauty seen afar:</span><br /> +Dear to the broker is a note of hand<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Collaterally secured—the polar star</span><br /> +Is dear at midnight to the sailor's eyes,<br /> +<i>And dear are Bristed's volumes at half price.</i><br /> +<br /> +The sun is loveliest as he sinks to rest;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The leaves of Autumn smile when fading fast;</span><br /> +The swan's last song is sweetest—and the best<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of Meigs's speeches, doubtless, was his last.</span><br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>In a mocking attempt to prove that New York exceeded +Greece in the Fine Arts, we have the following convincing +arguments:</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +In sculpture we've a grace the Grecian master,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blushing, had owned his purest model lacks;</span><br /> +We've Mr. Bogart in the best of plaster,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Witch of Endor in the best of wax,</span><br /> +Beside the head of Franklin on the roof<br /> +Of Mr. Lang, both jest and weather-proof.<br /> +<br /> +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> +<br /> +In painting we have Trumbull's proud <i>chef d'œuvre</i>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blending in one the funny and the fine;</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +His independence will endure forever—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And so will Mr. Allen's lottery sign;</span><br /> +And all that grace the Academy of Arts,<br /> +From Dr. Hosack's face to Bonaparte's.<br /> +<br /> +In physic, we have Francis and McNeven,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Famed for long heads, short lectures, and long bills;</span><br /> +And Quackenboss, and others, who from heaven<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Were rained upon us in a shower of pills.</i></span><br /></div> + +<p>It would be impossible to give a notion of the genial +satire of the Croakers by extracts. The following, from +the epistle to the Recorder, is unmatched for felicity and +exquisite contrast:</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +The Cæsar passed the Rubicon<br /> +With helm, and shield, and breast-plate on,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dashing his war-horse through the waters;</span><br /> +The R*d*r would have built a barge,<br /> +Or steamboat, at the city's charge,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And passed it with his wife and daughters.</span><br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>In the same piece occurs the following fine tribute to +Bryant:</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> +Bryant, whose songs are thoughts that bless<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The heart, its teachers, and its joy,</span><br /> +As mothers blend with their caress<br /> +Lessons of truth and gentleness,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And virtue for the listening boy.</span><br /> +Spring's lovelier flowers for many a day<br /> +Have blossomed on his wandering way,<br /> +Beings of beauty and decay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They slumber in their autumn tomb;</span><br /> +But those that graced his own Green River,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And wreathed the lattice of his home,</span><br /> +Charmed by his song from mortal doom,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bloom on, and will bloom on forever.</span><br /></div> +<br /> + +<p>Pope has become famous for his divine compliments, +but certainly no poet ever celebrated the genius of another +with more felicity and sweetness than in the above beautiful +passage.</p> + +<p>It would be impossible to notice all the striking poems +in this volume—and they are too favorably known to need +it. There is one piece, however, which deserves especial +commendation, and its merits do not appear to have called +forth the eulogy which has been bountifully lavished on +many others. We allude to his exquisite translation from +Goethe, on the eighty-third page—the invocation to the +ideal world, which precedes Faust. It is one of the gems +of the volume.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>The Poetical Works of Lord Byron. Complete in one +Volume. Collected and Arranged, with Illustrative Notes. +Illustrated by Elegant Steel Engravings. New York: +D. Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 8vo.</i></p></div> + +<p>This edition of Byron might bear the palm from all other +American editions, in respect to its combination of cheapness +with elegance, if it were not the most valuable in point +of completeness and illustrative notes. It is a reprint of +Murray's Library edition, and while executed in a similar +style of typography, excells it, if we are not mistaken, in +the number of its embellishments. It contains an admirable +portrait of Byron, a view of Newstead Abbey, and also +six fine steel engravings, executed with great beauty and +finish. It is uniform with the same publisher's library +edition of Southey and Moore, contains eight hundred +pages of closely printed matter, and includes every thing +that Byron wrote in verse. It does honor to the enterprise +and taste of the publishers, and will doubtless have a +circulation commensurate with its merits. As long as our +American booksellers evince a disposition to publish +classical works in so beautiful a form, it is a pleasant duty +of the press to commend their editions. We cordially wish +success to all speculations which imply a confidence in the +public taste.</p> + +<p>It would be needless here to express any opinion of the +intellectual or moral character of Byron's poems. Everybody's +mind is made up on those points. The present +edition is admirably adapted to convey to the reader +Byron's idea of himself, the opinions formed of him by his +contemporaries, and the effect of his several works on the +public mind as they appeared. It contains an immense +number of notes by Moore, Scott, Jeffrey, Campbell, +Wilson, Rogers, Heber, Milman, Gifford, Ellis, Bridges, +and others, which will be found extremely useful and +entertaining. Extracts are taken from Byron's own diary, +and from the recorders of his conversations, giving an accurate +impression of each poem, as regards its time and +manner of composition, the feelings from which it sprung, +and the opinion he entertained of its reception by the public. +Profuse quotations are made from the first draught of each +poem, showing how some of the most striking ideas were +originally written, and the improvements introduced in +their expression by the author's "sober second thoughts." +The opinions expressed of the various poems by the leading +reviews of the time, including the criticisms of Scott, +Jeffrey, Gifford, Heber, and others, are largely quoted. +Added to these are numerous notes, explaining allusions, +or illustrating images which the common reader might be +supposed not to understand. Taken altogether, the edition +will enable almost any person to obtain a clear understanding +of Byron and his works, without any trouble or +inconvenience. There is no other edition which can compare +with it in this respect.</p> + +<p>Many of the notes are exceedingly curious, and if not +absolutely new, have been gathered from such a wide +variety of sources, as to be novel to a majority of readers. +We have been struck with the impression which Byron's +energy made upon Dr. Parr, the veteran linguist. After +reading the Island, he exclaims—"Byron! the sorcerer! +He can do with me according to his will. If it is to throw +me headlong upon a desert island; if it is to place me on +the summit of a dizzy cliff—his power is the same. I +wish he had a friend, or a servant, appointed to the office +of the slave, who was to knock every morning at the +chamber-door of Philip of Macedon, and remind him he +was mortal." From Parr's life we learn that Sardanapalus +affected him even more strongly. "In the course of +the evening the doctor cried out, 'Have you read Sardanapalus?' +'Yes, sir.' 'Right; and you couldn't sleep a +wink after it?' 'No.' 'Right, right—now don't say a +word more about it to-night.' The memory of that fine +poem seemed to act like a spell of horrible fascination upon +him." Perhaps from a few anecdotes like this, we gain a +much more vivid impression of the sensation which Byron's +poems excited on their first appearance, and their strong +hold upon the imagination and passions of the public, +than we could obtain from the most elaborate description +of their effects. If such was their power upon an old +scholar like Parr, what must have been their influence +upon younger and more inflammable minds?</p> + +<p>The editor's preface to Don Juan is no less valuable +than entertaining. It contains not merely the opinions expressed +of the poem by the reviews and magazines, but +those of the newspapers, and enables us to gather the judgment +of the English people upon that strange combination +of sublimity and ribaldry, sentiment and wit, tenderness and +mockery, at the time it first blazed forth from the press. The +suppressed dedication of the poem to Southey is also given +in full, with all its brutal blackguardism and drunken brilliancy. +In truth, the volume conveys an accurate impression +of all the sides of Byron's versatile nature, and from +its very completeness is the less likely to be injurious. +There is no edition of his poems which we could more +safely commend to the reader, as it exhibits Byron the poet, +Byron the scoffer, Byron the roué, in his true colors and +real dimensions; and if, after reading it, a person should +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +adopt the old cant about his brilliant rascalities, and the old +drivel about his sentimental misanthropy, the fault is in the +reader rather than the volume. For our own part we are +acquainted with no edition of any celebrated author, +equaling this in the remorselessness with which the man +is stripped of all the factitious coverings of the poet, and +stands out more clearly in his true nature and character.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>The Life of Henry the Fourth, King of France and Navarre. +By G. P. R. James. New York: Harper & Brothers. +2 vols. 12mo.</i></p></div> + +<p>Few kings have been so fortunate as Henry the Fourth +in the reputation and good will they have obtained from +the people. By democrats as well as monarchists his name +is held in a kind of loving veneration. Much of this popularity +is doubtless owing to his superiority, in disposition as +well as mind, to the ferocious bigotry of his age, and to +his great edict of toleration which healed for a time the +horrible religious dissensions of France. Apart from his +ability, however, his virtues as a king sprung rather from +good-nature and benevolence, than from moral or religious +principle. His toleration was the result of his indifference +as much as his good sense; and he was not a persecutor, +because to him neither Catholicism nor Protestantism was +of sufficient importance to justify persecution. He was a +fanatic only in sensuality; and if he committed crime, it +would be rather for a mistress than a doctrine. The last +act of his reign, growing out of his impatience in having +his designs on the Princess of Condé baffled, showed that +lust could urge him into an unjust and unprincipled war, +where religious superstition would have been totally ineffective.</p> + +<p>Mr. James's Life of Henry is a careful compilation from +the most reliable sources of information, and embodies a +large amount of important knowledge. Though far from +realizing the higher conditions of historical art, it is more +accurate and spirited than the general run of historical +works. Mr. James's conscience in the matter of the present +book, seems to have been much greater than we might +have expected from the king of book-makers. When his +history was ready for the press, the French Government +commenced publishing the "Lettres Missives" of Henry +IV., and Mr. James delayed his book four years, in order +that its facts might be verified or increased by comparison +with that important publication. His work, therefore, is +probably the fullest and most accurate one we possess on +the age of which it treats. It is well worthy of an attentive +perusal. It abounds in incidents and characters which +would make the fortune of a novel, and is an illustration +of that kind of truth which is stranger than fiction. The +Harpers have issued the work in a tasteful form.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>Artist Life. By H. T. Tuckerman. New York: D. Appleton +& Co. 1 vol. 12mo.</i></p></div> + +<p>Mr. Tuckerman is an author whose productions we have +repeatedly had occasion to notice and to praise. They +have always a finished air, which favorably distinguishes +them from many American publications, the products of +mingled talent and haste. Mr Tuckerman does not appear +to rush into print, with unformed ideas hastily clad in a +loose undress of language—as if the palm of excellence +were due to the swiftest runner in the race of expression. +His style is clear, polished, graceful, and harmonious, +combining a flowing movement with condensation, and free +from the tricks and charlatanries of diction. He is not so +popular as he would be if he made more noise about his +words and thoughts, and called the attention of the public +to every felicity of his style or reflection by a pugnacious +manner, and a strained expression. Though possessing a +singularly rich and suggestive fancy, and a wide variety of +information, his use of ornament and allusion is characterized +by a taste, an appropriateness, a reserve, which men +of smaller stores rarely practice. As a critic, he is calm, +clear, judicious, sympathetic, and making the application of +a principle all the more stringent, from his vivid perception +of the object of his criticism. The present volume is worthy +of its subject, and is more calculated to convey accurate +information of the lives, character, and works of American +artists, than any other we have seen. It is also exceedingly +interesting, being full of anecdotes and biographical memoranda +of artists who are commonly known only as +painters, not as men. In this respect the volume contains +much original information, which will be valuable to the +future historian of American art. In his criticism, Mr. +Tuckerman evinces knowledge as well as taste; and by +avoiding technical terms, he contrives to render agreeable +and clear what is generally unintelligible to the uninitiated +reader of <i>critiques</i> on paintings. The volume contains, +among other sketches and biographies, very interesting +notices of the lives and works of West, Copley, Stuart, +Allston, Morse, Durand, W. E. West, Sully, Inman, Cole, +Weir, Leutze, and Brown.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>Appleton's Library Manuel: Containing a Catalogue Raisonne +of upwards of Twelve Thousand of the most Important +Works in Every Department of Knowledge, in all +Modern Languages, New York; D. Appleton & Co. +1 vol. 8vo.</i></p></div> + +<p>This is one of the most available and valuable bibliographical +works extant. Its object is indicated by its title. +Such a book should be in the possession of every student, +scholar, book-collector, and librarian. There is hardly a +subject which can attract the attention of an inquisitive +mind, which is not included in this collection, and the titles +of the best books, in different languages, which relate to it +given in full, with the various editions, and their price. It +would be needless to dilate upon the value of such a work. +The compilers deserve the highest credit for the labor, +intelligence, and expense they have devoted to it. The +cost is but one dollar.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>Sybil Lennard, a Record of Woman's Life.</i></p></div> + +<p>Mrs. Grey is one of the most popular novel writers of the +present day, and Sybil Lennard is unquestionably the best +of her works. It is published by Mr. T. B. Peterson, by +whom the advance sheets were procured from England.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>Chambers' Miscellany.</i></p></div> + +<p>Part No. 5, of Chamber's interesting Miscellany has been +published, and the articles it contains are of the highest +order of excellence. Messrs. Zieber & Co. are the Philadelphia +publishers.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Posthumous Writings of Joseph C. Neal, Esq.</span>—We +have several admirable Charcoal Sketches by Mr. Neal—a +rich legacy bequeathed expressly to us by our gifted and +lamented friend. Now that the fountain, whose outpourings +have so often enriched our pages, is forever closed, +these gems of genius will have a new and peculiar value. +We commence their publication in our present number.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The New York Mirror.</span>—This journal is edited with +surpassing ability; and its continued and advancing popularity +is creditable to the taste of the community in which +it is published. Spirited, independent, and liberal, it not +merely, as its name indicates, reflects the light of the age, +but shines with a lustre of its own. It is well worthy its +good fortune.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> +<div class="footnote"> +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a> <a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> I use the prosodial word "anapœst," merely because here I have no +space to show what the reviewer will admit I have distinctly shown in +the essay referred to—viz: that the additional syllable +introduced, does <i>not</i> make the foot an anapœst, or the equivalent of +an anapœst, and that, if it did, it would spoil the line. On this +topic, and on all topics connected with verse, there is not a prosody +in existence which is not a mere jumble of the grossest error.</div> + +</div> +</div> +<br /> + +<p>Transcriber's Notes:</p> + +<p>1. page 2--removed extra word 'the' after '...before the +windows lounged...'</p> + +<p>2. page 6--typo 'Jenning' corrected to 'Jennings'</p> + +<p>3. page 9--added double quotation mark at start of +sentence 'What do I see! My dearest...'</p> + +<p>4. page 10--added double quotation mark after +'Nonsense--what payment,'</p> + +<p>5. page 10--added double quotation mark at end of paragraph +'...and proceedings commence directly.</p> + +<p>6. page 18--added double quotation mark missing at start of +paragraph 'Oh I'll soon show you,'</p> + +<p>7. page 23--added missing period in sentence 'our prosodies +call anapœsts'</p> + +<p>8. page 28--removed extra 'a' in second line of stanza beginning 'Did +he answer guiltless, lo!'</p> + +<p>9. page 28--typo 'stife' corrected to 'strife'</p> + +<p>10. page 32--added period to sentence '...whither he was going'</p> + +<p>11. page 43--likley missing word 'for' inserted in sentence '...off +the dangers ahead for a single instant.'</p> + +<p>12. page 45--typo 'exhaused' corrected to 'exhausted'</p> + +<p>13. page 46--typo 'minuute' corrected to 'minute'</p> + +<p>14. page 58--typo 'observatious' corrected to 'observations'</p> + +<p>15. page 66--inserted opening quotation mark at assumed start of +speech "We buried her <i>there</i>. I say..."</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 +January 1848, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE VOL XXXII *** + +***** This file should be named 29187-h.htm or 29187-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/1/8/29187/ + +Produced by David T. Jones, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 January 1848 + +Author: Various + +Editor: George R. Graham + Robert T. Conrad + +Release Date: June 21, 2009 [EBook #29187] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE VOL XXXII *** + + + + +Produced by David T. Jones, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + + +GRAHAM'S + +AMERICAN MONTHLY + +MAGAZINE + + +Of Literature and Art, + +EMBELLISHED WITH + +MEZZOTINT AND STEEL ENGRAVINGS, MUSIC, ETC. + +WILLIAM C. BRYANT, J. FENIMORE COOPER, RICHARD H. DANA, JAMES K. PAULDING, +HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, N. P. WILLIS, CHARLES F. HOFFMAN, J. R. LOWELL. + +MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, MISS C. M. SEDGWICK, MRS. FRANCES S. OSGOOD, +MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY, MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS, MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY, +MRS. A. M. F. ANNAN, ETC. + +PRINCIPAL CONTRIBUTORS. + +GEORGE R. GRAHAM, AND ROBERT T. CONRAD, EDITORS. + + +VOLUME XXXII. + + +PHILADELPHIA: +GEORGE R. GRAHAM & CO. 98 CHESTNUT STREET. + * * * * * +1848. + + + +CONTENTS + +OF THE + +THIRTY-SECOND VOLUME. + +JANUARY, 1848, TO JUNE, 1848. + + * * * * * + +A Drama of Real Life. By N. P. WILLIS, 61 + +Autumnal Scenery. By JOSEPH R. CHANDLER, 64 + +Biographical Sketch of Gen. Wm. O. Butler. By FRANCIS P. BLAIR, 49 + +Battle of Fort Moultrie. By C. J. PETERSON, 198 + +Clara Harland. By G. G. FOSTER. (Illustrated.) 241 + +Cincinnati. By FAYETTE ROBINSON, 352 + +Captain Samuel Walker. By FAYETTE ROBINSON, (With an Engraving.) 301 + +Dissolving Views. By F. E. F. 172 + +Effie Morris. By ENNA DUVAL, 87 + +First Love. By ENNA DUVAL, 282 + +Game-Birds of America. By PROF. FROST, 68 + +Game-Birds of America. By PROF. FROST, 185 + +Home. By Mrs. H. MARION WARD, 129 + +Jacob Jones. By T. S. ARTHUR, 193 + +Jehoiakim Johnson. By MARY SPENCER PEASE, 313 + +Lace and Diamonds. By THEODORE S. FAY, 1 + +Le Petit Soulier. By IK. MARVEL, 165 + +Marginalia. By EDGAR A. POE, 23 + +Mathew Mizzle. By JOSEPH C. NEAL, 57 + +Montezuma Moggs. By JOSEPH C. NEAL, 116 + +Marginalia. By EDGAR A. POE, 130 + +Mrs. Pelby Smith's Select Party. By Mrs. A. M. F. ANNAN, 152 + +Marginalia. By EDGAR A. POE, 178 + +My Lady-Help. By ENNA DUVAL, 180 + +Mary Warner. By Mrs. E. L. B. COWDERY, 201 + +Major-General Worth. By FAYETTE ROBINSON, 275 + +Power of Beauty, and a Plain Man's Love. By N. P. WILLIS, 99 + +Pauline Dumesnil. By ANGELE DE V. HULL, 121 + +Pauline Grey. By F. E. F. 229, 265 + +Phantasmagoria. By JOHN NEAL, 26O + +Phantoms All. By CAROLINE H. BUTLER, 304 + +Poor Penn--. By OLIVER BUCKLEY, 309 + +Stoke Church and Park. By R. BALMANNO, 73 + +The Rival Sisters. By HENRY W. HERBERT, 13, 105 + +The Little Gold-Fish. By J. K. PAULDING, 31 + +The Teacher Taught. By MARY S. ADAMS, 39 + +The Islets of the Gulf. By J. F. COOPER, 42, 93, 159 + +The Cruise of the Gentile. By FRANK BYRNE, 133, 205 + +The Little Cap-Maker. By Mrs. C. H. BUTLER, 221 + +The Portrait of General Scott. 234 + +Theresa. By JANE TAYLOE WORTHINGTON, 247 + +The Changed and the Unchanged. By PROFESSOR ALDEN, 277 + +The New England Factory Girl. By Mrs. JOSEPH C. NEAL, 287, 343 + +The Lone Buffalo. By CHARLES LANMAN, 294 + +The Fortunes of a Southern Family. By A NEW CONTRIBUTOR, 325 + +The Double Transformation. By JAMES K. PAULDING, 350 + +Whortleberrying. By ALFRED B. STREET, 270 + + +POETRY. + +A Funeral Thought. By J. BAYARD TAYLOR, 10 + +An Hour. By J. BAYARD TAYLOR, 98 + +A Butterfly in the City. By THOMAS BUCHANAN READ 104 + +A Parting. By HENRY S. HAGERT, 238 + +A Vision. By R. H. STODDART, 286 + +A Song. By THOMAS BUCHANAN READ, 311 + +Burial of a Volunteer. By PARK BENJAMIN, 128 + +Beauty's Bath. (Illustrated.) 131 + +Contemplation. By JANE R. DANA. (Illustrated.) 190 + +City Life. By CHARLES W. BAIRD, 204 + +Coriolanus. By HENRY B. HIRST, 319 + +Cleopatra. By ELIZABETH J. EAMES, 363 + +Decay and Rome. By R. H. STODDART, 220 + +Elsie. By KATE DASHWOOD, 67 + +Early English Poets. By ELIZABETH J. EAMES, 92 + +Early English Poets. By ELIZABETH J. EAMES, 171 + +Epitaph on a Restless Lady, 179 + +Expectation. By LOUISA M. GREEN, 187 + +Eurydice. By FRANCES S. OSGOOD, 274 + +Encouragement. By Mrs. E. C. KINNEY, 276 + +Fair Margaret. By Wm. H. C. HOSMER, 293 + +Homeward Bound. By E. CURTISS HINE, 308 + +Isola. By JOHN TOMLIN, 190 + +Lenovar. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS, 218 + +Lines to ---- By CAROLINE F. ORNE, 63 + +Love. By R. H. STODDARD, 131 + +Lines to an Ideal. By ELIZABETH L. LINSLEY, 151 + +Lethe. By HENRY B. HIRST, 179 + +Lines. By GRETTA, 184 + +Lennard. By Mrs. MARY G. HORSFORD, 320 + +Lamartine to Madame Jorelle. By VIRGINIA 303 + +Lines to ----, By W. HORRY STILWELL, 349 + +Midnight. By THOMAS BUCHANAN READ, 286 + +No, Not Forgotten. By EARLE S. GOODRICH, 228 + +O, Scorn Not Thy Brother. By E. CURTISS HINE, 235 + +Poetry. A Song. By GEORGE P. MORRISS, 66 + +Revolution. By ARIAN, 292 + +Spirit-Yearnings for Love. By Mrs. H. MARION WARD, 12 + +Sonnet to Graham. By ALTUS, 22 + +Sonnet to S. D. A. By "THE SQUIRE," 48 + +Shawangunk Mountain. By A. B. STREET, 59 + +Sonnet to ----. By CAROLINE F. ORNE, 67 + +Sunset After Rain. By ALFRED B. STREET, 115 + +Sonnet to Night. By GRETTA, 120 + +Spirit-Voices. By CHARLES W. BAIRD, 158 + +Song of the Elves. By ANNA BLACKWELL, 203 + +Song for a Sabbath Morning. By T. B. READ, 204 + +Sonnets. By JAMES LAWSON, 259 + +Sonnet. By C. E. T. 269 + +Sonnet. By Mrs. E. C. KINNEY, 281 + +Stanzas. By W. H. DENNY, 293 + +Song. By C. E. T. 342 + +The Memorial Tree. By W. GILMORE SIMMS, 11 + +The Rainbow. By Mrs. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, 12 + +The Penance of Roland. By HENRY B. HIRST, 25 + +The Sea-Nymphs Song. By W. H. C. HOSMER, 30 + +The Vesper Bell. By PARK BENJAMIN, 38 + +The Sunbeam. By MARY E. LEE, 41 + +The Land of Dreams. By WM. C. BRYANT, 48 + +The Mourner. By Dr. JOHN D. GODMAN, 67 + +The Saw-Mill. By WM. C. BRYANT, 86 + +The Portrait. By R. T. CONRAD. (Illustrated.) 92 + +The Lost Pleiad. By HENRY B. HIRST, 115 + +The Bride's Confession. By ALICE G. LEE, 120 + +The Hermit of Niagara. By Mrs. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, 127 + +The Bridal Morning. (Illustrated.) 128 + +The Alchemist's Daughter. By T. B. READ, 148 + +The Belle. By MARY L. LAWSON, 164 + +The Voice of the Fire. By J. B. TAYLOR, 177 + +Triumphs of Peace. By WM. H. C. HOSMER, 187 + +To My Wife. By ROBT. T. CONRAD, 190 + +The Darling. By BLANCHE BENNAIRDE, 197 + +The Poet's Love. By HENRY B. HIRST, 200 + +To the Author of "The Raven." By MISS HARRIET B. WINSLOW, 203 + +The Fire of Drift-Wood. By HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, 204 + +The Last of His Race. By S. DRYDEN PHELPS, 220 + +The Sailor-Lover to His Mistress. By R. H. BACON, 233 + +The Spirit of Song. By Mrs. E. C. KINNEY, 238 + +The Ancient and the Modern Muse. By LYMAN LONG, 246 + +The Oak-Tree. By PARK BENJAMIN, 264 + +The Voice of the Night Wind. By E. CURTISS HINE, 274 + +The Dayspring. By SAMUEL D. PATTERSON, 281 + +The Adopted Child. By Mrs. FRANCES B. M. BROTHERSON, 295 + +The Pole's Farewell. By WM. H. C. HOSMER, 324 + +The Real and the Ideal. By MARION H. RAND, 341 + +The Human Voice. By GEO. P. MORRIS, 341 + +The Enchanted Isle. By LYDIA J. PEIRSON, 311 + +The Continents. By J. BAYARD TAYLOR, 312 + +Venice as It Was and as It Is. By PROFESSOR GOODRICH, 342 + +White Creek. By ALFRED B. STREET, 147 + +Years Ago. By GEORGE P. MORRIS, 190 + + +REVIEWS. + + +The Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck, 70 + +The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, 71 + +The Life of Henry the Fourth, King of France +and Navarre. By G. P. R James, 72 + +Artist Life. By H. T. Tuckerman, 72 + +Poems of Early and After Years. By N. P. Willis, 132 + +Practical Physiology. By Edward Jarvis, 191 + +The Fruits and Fruit Trees of America. By A. J. DOWNING, 191 + +Historical and Select Memoirs of the Empress +Josephine. By M'lle. M. A. Le Normand, 239 + +Memoir of Sarah B. Judson. By "Fanny Forester," 240 + +The History of a Penitent. By George W. Bethune, D. D. 240 + +Keble's Christian Year, 240 + +Edith Kinnaird. By the Author of "The Maiden Aunt," 298 + +Jane Eyre. An Autobiography, 299 + +The Princess. By Alfred Tennyson, 300 + +The Origin, Progress and Conclusion of the +Florida War. By John T. Sprague, 300 + +The Poetical Works of John Milton, 300 + +An Universal History of the Most Remarkable Events of All +Nations, from the Earliest Period to the Present Time, 354 + +Lectures on Shakspeare. By H. N. Hudson, 354 + +Military Heroes of the Revolution. By C. J. Peterson, 356 + +Old Hicks, the Guide. By C. W. Webber, 356 + + +MUSIC. + + +Woman's Love. Poetry by Anon. Music by Mathias Keller, 188 + +Ben Bolt. The Words and Melody by Thomas Dunn English, 236 + +When Shall I See the Object that I Love. A +favorite Swiss Air. Music by J. B. Mueller, 296 + + +ENGRAVINGS. + + +Innocence, engraved by W. E. Tucker. + +General Butler, engraved by Thomas B. Welsh. + +A Portrait, engraved by Ross. + +Beauty's Bath, engraved by Sartain. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +Bridal Morning, engraved by A. B. Ross. + +Expectation, engraved by J. Addison. + +Contemplation, engraved by Addison. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +Gen. Winfield Scott, engraved by Thos. B. Welsh. + +Pauline Grey, engraved by J. B. Adams. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +General Worth, engraved by Sartain. + +Clara Harland, engraved by Addison. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + +Captain Walker, engraved by A. B. Walter. + +Cincinnati, engraved by J. W. Steel. + +Paris Fashions, from Le Follet. + + + + +GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE. + +VOL. XXXII. PHILADELPHIA, JANUARY, 1848. No. 1. + + + + +LACE AND DIAMONDS. + +OR TAKE CARE WHAT YOU DO. + +BY THEODORE S. FAY. + + +"Don't be angry, ma'ma--I wont jest any more, if it displease you, but +I will make a plain confession." + +"Well," said Mrs. Clifford, "let me hear it." + +"I have not one feeling which I wish to conceal from you. There have +been moments when I liked Mr. Franklin," and a pretty color crossed +her cheek, "but I have been struck with a peculiarity which has +chilled warmer sentiments. He appears phlegmatic and cold. There is +about him a perpetual repose that seems inconsistent with energy and +feeling. I am not satisfied that I could be happy with such a +person--not certain that he is capable of loving, or of inspiring +love. When I marry any one, he must worship, he must adore me. He must +be ready to go crazy for me. Let him be full of faults, but let him +have--what so few possess--a warm, unselfish heart." + +"I have heard you, through," said Mrs. Clifford, "now you must hear +me. It is very proper that you should not decide without full +consideration. Examine as long as you think necessary the qualities of +Mr. Franklin, and never marry him till he inspire you with confidence +and affection. But remember something is due also to him; and the +divine rule of acting toward others as you wish them to act toward +you, must be applied here, as in every affair in life. While you +should not, I allow, be hurried into a decision, yet your mind once +made up, he should not be kept a moment in suspense." + +"Do you think, ma'ma," asked Caroline, "that he has much feeling?" + +"I think he has. I think him peculiarly gifted with unselfish ardor. +That which appears to you coldness, is, in my opinion, the natural +reserve of a warm heart--so modest that it rather retires from +observation than parades itself before the world. Sentiment and fire, +when common on the lips, are not more likely to be native to the soul. +It is precisely that calm, that repose you allude to, which forms, in +my judgment, the guarantee of Mr. Franklin's sincerity, and the +finishing grace of his character--a character in all other respects, +also, a true and noble one." + +Caroline did not listen without interest. + +Mrs. Clifford was a native of New York, and had come over just a year +ago to enjoy a tour in Europe. Franklin had been a fellow-passenger; +and a sort of intimacy had grown up between the young people, which +the gentleman had taken rather _au serieux_. He had gladly availed +himself of an accidental business necessity which called the son and +proposed traveling companion of Mrs. Clifford suddenly home, to join +her little party, and had accompanied them through Italy, France, +Germany, Belgium, and Holland. The result was, that the happiness of +his life now appeared to depend upon an affirmative monosyllable in +reply to the offer he had just made of his heart and hand. Mrs. +Clifford was the widow of a captain in the American navy, who had left +her only a moderate income--sufficient, but no more, for the wants of +herself and daughter. Mr. Franklin was a lawyer of six-and-twenty, who +had been advised to repair the effects of too severe professional +application, by change of air, and a year's idleness and travel. + +The conversation was scarcely finished, when the subject of it was +announced. + +After the usual salutations, Mr. Franklin said he had come, according +to appointment, to accompany the ladies on a walk, and to see the +lions of London, where they had arrived some days before. In a few +minutes, hats, shawls, and gloves, being duly put in requisition, they +had left their lodgings in Grosvenor Street, Grosvenor Square, and +were wending their way toward Regent Street and the Strand, through +the crowds of this wonderful and magnificent metropolis, of which +every thing was a delightful curiosity, and where, amid the millions +around, they knew and were known by scarcely a human creature. + +Every stranger, newly arrived and walking about London, has noted the +effect of this prodigious town upon him; and how singularly he is lost +in its immensity, overwhelmed by its grandeur, and bewildered amid its +endless multiplicity of attractions. So it was with our little party. +Excited by the thousand novel and dazzling objects, the hours fleeted +away like minutes; and it was late before they had executed or even +formed any plans. + +"Let us at least go somewhere," said Caroline. "Let us go to St. +Paul's, or Westminster Abbey, or the Tower; and we have, beside, +purchases to make--for ladies, you know, Mr. Franklin, have always +shopping to do." + +"Well, as it is so late," said Mrs. Clifford, "and we have promised to +call on Mrs. Porter at half past two, I propose to leave the lions for +another morning, and only enjoy our walk to-day." + +"Then, ma'ma, let us go to that splendid shop, and look at the lace +once more. Only think, Mr. Franklin, we yesterday saw lace, not +broader than this, and I had a half fancy to buy some for a new +dress--and what do you suppose it cost?" + +"I am little versed," said Franklin, "in such mysteries--five pounds, +perhaps--" + +"Twelve pounds--twelve pounds and a half sterling--sixty American +dollars. I never saw any thing so superb. Ma'ma says I ought not even +to look at such a luxury." + +"But is lace really such a luxury?" inquired Franklin, smiling. + +"You can have no idea how exquisite this is!" + +"As for me," rejoined Franklin, "I can never tell whether a lady's +lace is worth twelve pounds or twelve cents. Although, I hope, not +insensible to the general effect of a toilette, yet lace and diamonds, +and all that sort of thing, are lost upon me entirely." + +"Oh, you barbarian!" + +"Real beauty was never heightened by such ornaments, and ugliness is +invariably rendered more conspicuous and ugly." + +"You will not find many ladies," said Mrs. Clifford "to agree with +you." + +"Oh, yes! How often do we hear of belles, as distinguished for the +simplicity of their toilette, as for the beauty of their persons. How +often in real life, and how frequently in novels. There you read that, +while the other ladies are shining in satin and lace, and blazing in +diamonds, the real rose of the evening eclipses them all in a plain +dress of white, without jewels, like some modest flower, unconscious +of her charms, and therefore attracting more attention." + +"Well, I declare," said Mrs. Clifford, smiling, "it is just as you +say!" + +"And what does Miss Caroline think of my attack on lace and diamonds?" + +"Why," said Caroline, laughing, "since you do me the honor to require +my opinion, I will give it you. I agree that such pretending ornaments +ill become the old and ugly. There you are right. I agree that the +extremely beautiful may also dispense with them. These ball-room +belles of yours--these real roses of the evening--are, I suspect, so +lovely as to make them exceptions to the general rule. But there is a +class of young ladies, among whom I place myself, neither so old and +ugly as to make ornament ridiculous, nor so beautiful as to render it +unnecessary. To this middle class, a bit of lace--a neat tab--a string +of pearls here and there--a pretty worked cape--or a coronet of +diamonds, I assure you, do no harm." + +"That you are not so ugly as to render ornament ridiculous," replied +Franklin, "I allow; but that there is, in your case, any want of +lovelines to require--to render--which--" + +"Take care, Mr. Franklin!" interrupted Caroline, mischievously, "you +are steering right upon the rocks; and a gentleman who refuses all +decoration to a lady's toilette, should not embellish his own +conversation with flattery." + +"Upon my word," replied he, in a lower voice, "to whatever class you +belong, Miss Clifford, you do yourself injustice if you suppose lace +and diamonds can add to the power of your beauty, any more than the +greatest splendor of fortune could increase the charms of your--" + +"Ma'ma," exclaimed Caroline, "we have passed the lace shop." + +"So we have," said Mrs. Clifford; "but why should we go back--you +certainly don't mean to buy any--?" + +"No, ma'ma; but I want some edging, and I might as well get it here, +if only to enjoy another look at the forbidden fruit." + +The shop was one of those magnificent establishments of late years +common in large metropolises. A long hall led from the street quite +back through the building, or rather masses of buildings, to another +equally elegant entrance on the parallel street behind. The doors were +single sheets of heavy plate-glass. In the windows all the glittering +and precious treasures of India and Asia seemed draped in gorgeous +confusion, and blazed also through unbroken expanses of limpid glass +of yet larger dimensions than the doors. Silks, laces, Cashmere +shawls, damask, heavy and sumptuous velvets of bright colors, and fit +for a queen's train, muslins of bewildering beauty, dresses at L200 a +piece, and handkerchiefs of Manilla of almost fabulous value. The +interior presented similar displays on all sides, multiplied by +reflections from broad mirrors, gleaming among marble columns. Perhaps +those numerous mirrors were intended to neutralize the somewhat gloomy +effect of the low ceiling, not sufficiently elevated to admit the +necessary light into the central spaces. At various points, even in +the day-time, gas-lights burned brilliantly. Before the door were +drawn up half a dozen elegant coroneted equipages, the well-groomed, +shining horses, and richly-liveried coachmen, indicating the rank of +the noble owners; and on the benches before the windows lounged the +tall and handsome footmen, with their long gold-headed sticks, +powdered heads, gaudy coats, brightcolored plush breeches, and white +silk stockings, and gloves. + +In the shop there were, perhaps, fifty persons, as it happened to be a +remarkably fine day in June--one of those grateful gifts from heaven +to earth which lure people irresistibly out of the dark and weary +home, and which, when first occurring, after a long and dismal winter, +as in the present instance, appear to empty into the sunshiny streets, +every inhabitant, the sick and the well, the lame and the blind alike, +from every house in town. + +Caroline asked to be shown some of the lace which she had looked at +the day before. It was produced, and Mrs. Clifford and Franklin were +called to examine it. The wonder consisted as much in the endless +variety of the patterns, as in the exquisite fineness and richness of +the material. The counter was soon strewn with the airy treasures, one +piece after another, unrolled with rapidity, appeared to make a lively +impression on the young girl, who at last, with a sigh, apologized to +the polite person patiently waiting the end of an examination which +his practiced eye had, doubtless, perceived was only one of vain +curiosity. + +"It is too dear," said Caroline, "I cannot afford it. Pray let me see +some narrow edging." + +"That lace is very pretty," remarked a lady of a commanding figure, +evidently a person of rank. + +"Very pretty, my lady," replied the clerk who had waited on Caroline. + +"What is it?" + +"Twelve and a half, my lady." + +"It is really pretty--give me twenty yards." + +"Very good, my lady." + +The article was measured and cut almost as soon as ordered, and the +remnant rewound into a small parcel and thrown upon the counter. + +At the same moment, and as a boy handed Caroline the edging, wrapped +in paper, for which she had already paid, and which she took +mechanically, she heard one of the bystanders whisper to another: "The +Countess D----!" (one of the most celebrated women of England.) + +"Ma'ma," said Caroline, "did you observe that lady?" + +And they left the shop. + +"Bless me!" said Mrs. Clifford, looking at her watch, "do you know how +late it is? Half past two. We promised to be at Mrs. Porter's at this +very time. She said, you remember, she was going out at four; and it +will take us, I'm afraid, nearly an hour to get there." + +"Then let us make haste, ma'ma!" + +And with a very rapid pace they hurried back toward Regent Street and +Portland Place. They had gone on in this way, perhaps, twenty minutes, +when a white-headed, respectable-looking old gentleman was thrust +aside by a rude fellow pushing by, so that he ran against Caroline, +and caused her to drop her pocket-handkerchief. He stopped, with +evident marks of mortification, and picked it up, with a polite +apology. Caroline assured him she was not hurt. + +"But, my dear young lady," said the benevolent-looking old gentleman, +"let me return your parcel." + +"Oh, that is not mine," replied Caroline. + +"I beg your pardon, it fell with your handkerchief." + +"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed Caroline, "what have I done! I have +brought away a piece of that lace! Ma'ma, let us go back directly." + +Although the incident had occupied but a minute, Mrs. Clifford and +Franklin, engaged in conversation, had not perceived it, and had gone +several paces on. The old gentleman smiled, bowed, and disappeared +around a corner. + +At this moment a man stepped up, and laying his hand roughly on +Caroline's arm, said, + +"Young woman, you must come with me!" + +And a second iron-hand grasped her other arm. + +Shocked and affrighted, she saw they were policemen. + +Then the voice of a person very much out of breath, cried, + +"This is the one!--I can swear to her! And look!--there is the very +lace in her hand!" + +Pale as death, bewildered with terror, the poor girl could only +attempt to say, "Ma'ma! ma'ma!" but her tongue clove to the roof of +her mouth, and her voice refused its office. A crowd had already +collected, and the words, "Lady been a stealing!" and, "They've nabbed +a thief!" were audible enough. + +"Come, my beauty!" said the man, pulling her forward, "we've no time +to lose." + +"Scoundrel!" cried the voice of Franklin, as he grasped him by the +throat, "who are you?" + +"You see who we are;" was the stern reply; "we're policemen, in the +execution of our duty. Take your band off my throat." + +Franklin recognized their uniform, and relaxed his hold. + +"Policemen! and what have policemen to do with this lady? You have +made some stupid blunder. This is a lady. She is under my protection. +Take your hand off her arm!" + +"If she's under your protection, the best thing you can do is to +accompany us," replied the man, bluntly; and he made another attempt +to drag her away. + +Franklin restrained himself with an effort which did him honor, +conscious that violence would be here out of place, and perceiving +that it would be utterly useless. He strove a moment to collect his +thoughts as one stunned by a thunderbolt. + +"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. + +"If you ask for information," remarked the man, impressed by his +agonized astonishment, "I will tell you; but wont the young woman get +into a hack, out of the crowd?" + +An empty carriage happened to be passing, into which, like a man in a +dream, Franklin handed the ladies. One police officer entered with +them--the other took his seat on the box with the coachman. Caroline, +although still colorless, had partly regained her courage, and +endeavored to smile. Mrs. Clifford, in a most distressing state of +agitation, only found breath to say, "Well, this is a pretty +adventure, upon my word!" + +As the carriage moved away, followed by a troop of ragamuffins, +leaping, laughing, and shouting, Franklin said, + +"And now, my good fellow, I have submitted peaceably to this atrocious +outrage, tell me by whose authority you act, and in what way this +young lady has exposed herself to such an infamous insult?" + +"Well, in the first place," said the man, coolly, "I act by the +authority of the Messieurs Blake, Blanchard & Co.; and in the second +place, the young lady has exposed herself to such an infamous insult +by stealing ten yards of Brussels' lace, at L12 a yard, value L120 +sterling." + +"Scoundrel!" exclaimed Franklin, again grasping his collar. + +"Hollo! hollo! hollo!" cried the man--hands off, my cove! and keep a +civil tongue in your head, you'd best. It aint of no use, I give you +my word of honor." + +"Miss Clifford--" + +But Miss Clifford had covered her face with her white hands, which did +not conceal her still whiter complexion. + +"Why, look ye, sir,", said the man, "if you really aint a party to the +offence, I'm very sorry for you. The business is just this here. The +shop of Blake, Blanchard & Co., has been frequently robbed, and +sometimes by ladies. I was called, not four mouths ago, to take a real +lady to prison, who had stole to the amount of L10. And to prison she +went, too, though some of the most respectable people in town came +down and begged for her. Now this here young lady came yesterday to +the shop of Blake, Blanchard & Co.--tumbled every thing upside down, +and bought nothing--went away--to-day came again--asked to see the +most valuable lace--bought ten shillings' worth of narrow edging, and +left the premises. At her departure she was seen to take ten yards of +lace--value, L120. I was called in, and followed her, with one of the +clerks, to identify her person. We perceived her walking fast--very +fast, indeed. It was as much as we could do to overtake her. The clerk +can swear to her identity--and the lace was found in her hand. Both +the young man and myself can swear to it, if she denies it--though I +caution you, Miss, not to say any thing at present, because it can be +used against you at your trial." + +"I do not deny it," said Caroline, with flashing eyes. "I took the +lace, but did not know I took it." + +"Oh! ho-ho!" said the man. "I hope you can make 'em believe that. +Perhaps you can." + +"My dear friend," cried Mrs. Clifford, now nearly beside herself, "I +assure you, this is a frightful mistake. She carried the lace away +from mere carelessness. Here is all the money I have about me. Take it +for yourself, only let us go. My daughter, I assure you, is utterly +incapable of stealing. You don't know her. As for the lace, I am +willing to pay for it. My name is Mrs. Clifford. I live No. ---- +Grosvenor Street, Grosvenor Square. My dear, kind, good sir, turn the +carriage and let us go home. My husband was Captain Clifford, of the +American navy. Do you think we would be guilty of stealing? I will +give you any money you desire. I will give you L50--only let us go." + +"If your husband was Admiral Nelson himself," replied the man, with +dignity, "I could not let you go now--not if you were to give me L500. +I have only to do my duty. It's a very painful one--but it must be +done. I aint a judge. I'm a policeman; and my business is to deliver +you safe into the hands of Blake, Blanchard & Co." + +To describe the whirl of thoughts which swept through the mind of +Franklin during the interval would be impossible. He saw that a simple +act of carelessness had been committed by Caroline; but he was enough +of a lawyer to perceive that the proof against her was singularly +striking and unanswerable--and he knew the world too well, not to feel +extraordinary alarm at the possible consequences. In London, alone, +without friends or acquaintances, a glance into the future almost +drove him to distraction. At moments he was half mastered by the +impulse to bear Caroline away, by a sudden _coup de main_; but his +hand was held by the reflection, that even were such a wild scheme +possible, success would be no means of security, inasmuch as Mrs. +Clifford had given her address; while the attempt would exasperate the +other party, appear but a new evidence of guilt, and in every way +enhance the danger of their position. + +As they approached the fatal shop, a large crowd had collected around +the door. Franklin felt that he was in one of those crises on which +hang human destiny and life, and that he had need of more prudence and +wisdom than man can possess, except it be given him from above. Deep, +therefore, and trusting, was his silent prayer to Him who hath said, +"_Be strong and of a good courage. I will not fail thee, nor forsake +thee._" + +Caroline appeared ready to sink into the earth when the carriage +stopped. + +"My dearest Miss Clifford," said Franklin, "these men have fallen into +a bungling error, and it will require some prudence on our part to +make them see it. But compose yourself. Put down your veil; say +nothing till I call you--and may God, in his mercy, grant that our +ordeal be short!" + +These words were uttered with a composure and cheerful presence of +mind which reassured in some degree the fainting girl. She had at her +side a protector who would never desert her--a pilot with a strong +arm, a steady eye, and a bold heart--who would steer her through the +wild storm, if any human being could. + +Mrs. Clifford, speechless with terror, let down her daughter's veil as +well as her shaking hands permitted, and was led by Franklin from the +carriage into the house. He then handed, or rather lifted, out +Caroline, who clung to him with helplessness and terror. The trembling +party--a hundred unfeeling eyes bent upon them--were conducted +through the shop to a back parlor, into the presence of Mr. Jennings, +the only one of the firm of Blake, Blanchard & Co. who happened to be +at home. As Franklin saw him his heart sank in his bosom, and the +courage which had begun to mount with the danger, seemed a mockery. + +Mr. Jennings was a respectable looking man of forty, of a thin, hard +countenance, repelling manners, and sharp voice, which, when excited, +rose to a piercing and discordant note. There was no sign of mercy or +moderation in his physiognomy. This man, who, after faithful +subordinate services, had become the inferior and hardest working +partner, happened to be afflicted with a very violent temper, which +had been wrought into a rage by various recent purloinings, apparently +like the present, attributed to female customers, and perpetrated with +a combined cunning and daring which baffled detection, and he had long +yearned to lay his hand upon one of them. His passions and interests +were mingled together in this desire, which, in addition, he supposed +fully sanctioned by duty; and when a man, and particularly such a man, +of a narrow mind and cold heart--loving power, and rarely enabled to +taste its sweets, once gets into his head the idea that he is acting +from duty--God help the poor victim that falls within his grasp. + +Such was the individual before whom, in the attitude of a detected +criminal, was dragged the sweet and trembling girl. Such was the man +before whom Franklin stood, curbing within the limits of prudence his +high wrought feelings. + +"Now, my honest women," said Jennings, seating himself magisterially +in a large arm-chair by a table, while the rest stood in a circle +around, like prisoners at a bar before their judge, "what have you to +say with regard to the atrocious act of felony--" + +"One moment, sir," said Franklin. "You will have the kindness to order +chairs for those ladies." + +Mr. Jennings paused, fixed a surprised glance at the speaker, and +obeyed. + +"Well then, _now_--" demanded he. + +"I beg your pardon!" again interrupted Franklin, "permit me, in your +own interest, to make another suggestion. Before you proceed in this +examination, I warn you, with all deference to the sincerity of your +present error, that you have before you two ladies of respectability, +and unblemished reputation, and who are entirely innocent in this +matter." + +"Bah!" ejaculated Mr. Jennings. + +"Silence, sir," cried Franklin, with an indignation irrepressible. +"You have dragged before you through the streets of London, a young +and innocent girl, like a criminal. If circumstances seem for a moment +to give you the right, humanity, as well as decency requires, at least +till the question of her guilt be settled, that you address her with +respect, and hear her defence with candor and attention." + +Mr. Jennings turned pale, swallowed his rage, and replied: "Speak, +sir! speak, sir! I am all candor and attention." + +"I beg your pardon," resumed Franklin, "if I have answered with too +much asperity. But this young lady is perfectly innocent. She has high +friends. You will consider her under the protection of the American +Ambassador at this Court! State to me, if you please, your reasons for +dragging her before you in the custody of policemen." + +Awed by Franklin's tone, but rather infuriated than melted, Mr. +Jennings answered with sarcastic politeness-- + +"Certainly, sir, your request is a just one. The case is this. The +young lady came to my shop this morning, and had brought out for her +examination the most expensive lace, of which, however, she purchased +none, but, instead, expended ten shillings for some narrow edging. I +must inform you that persons in the dress of ladies, and even persons +in the rank of ladies, have more than once committed thefts of this +kind, and I have ordered one of the young men to watch. This +individual saw in a mirror the young lady, as she was about to leave, +seize a parcel of lace, and carry it out under cover of her +pocket-handkerchief. We sent directly for policemen--but so rapid was +the flight of the party, including yourself, that it was not without +considerable difficulty and delay that they were overtaken, when the +stolen lace was found in her hand. We are often obliged to forego the +gratification of punishing such misdemeanors by the technical +difficulty of proving the crime upon the criminal. You perceive how +the present case stands. I am willing to allow it is but fair you +should be heard, if you have any thing to say in reply." + +"I have much to say," resumed Franklin, smiling with assumed +confidence, "enough to satisfy any reasonable man, and I hope I stand +before such a one. That the young lady took the lace no one can deny. +But I will tell you how she took it. For the first time in London, her +mind naturally excited, she was bewildered amid the novel and +interesting objects around her. The splendor of your establishment +dazzled her eyes and distracted her attention. In company with her +mother and myself she came here to see the lace in question, but she +could not have intended to steal it, if I must answer to such a +charge, because it would have been impossible for her to use such an +article without the knowledge of her mother. If she is a thief her +mother and I share her guilt. I therefore repeat to you that these +ladies can command references to raise them above the slightest breath +of suspicion--references sufficient to satisfy the most +incredulous--the most unreasonable. She is a person of the purest life +and strongest principles. Not one of her friends, and, after a proper +examination, not one of the public, will ever believe her guilty of +any thing worse than a mere moment of bewilderment and absence of +mind." + +"Upon my word, sir," said Mr. Jennings, "you have undertaken a pretty +difficult task--no less than to convince me that black is white, and +that two and two don't make four. Who are you?--and where are your +references?" + +Franklin did not succeed in concealing a certain trepidation at this +blunt demand, and it was not lost upon Jennings. + +"My references do not reside in England." + +"Ah! ha!" + +"I am a stranger in your metropolis." + +"Oh! ho!" + +"And therefore," added Franklin, "every noble-minded and fair-play +loving Englishman will say, possessing greater claim upon your +moderation. I can bring you, from my own country--through the official +intervention of the American Minister, references to outweigh a +thousand fold--ten million fold--all opposite appearances. I can give +a moral demonstration that the intentional commission by this young +lady of the act with which she is charged, is an utter, and a +ridiculous impossibility." + +"I have now heard you," said Jennings, "and I am sorry to say, I must, +notwithstanding, send the lady before a magistrate. The ingenious +arguments you have used are equally applicable to every theft. No +reference--no rank--no character can weigh against so plain a fact, +proved by ocular demonstration. No rational judge or jury can doubt +she _stole_ the lace. It is my duty to make an example of her. This is +not the first, nor the second time, we have been robbed by ladies in +affluent circumstances, and respectably connected. It is a peculiar +crime, and generally committed in a way which renders it both +difficult and dangerous, even when we know the criminal, to attempt to +fix the fact upon her. This time we have caught her in the very _act_. +We have eye-witnesses enough to render doubt impossible. She does not +deny it. She fled with precipitation. She was overtaken a long +distance off--nearly half an hour after the offence--the lace was +found in her hand--and her companion tried to bribe the policeman with +L50 to let her escape. And do you now talk to me of 'respectability,' +and 'connections,' and such nonsense? I would go as far as you or any +man to save an innocent person from destruction. But when once +convinced, by my own eyes, of deliberate guilt, it is too late for +mercy. The ignorant beggar, who steals to save himself from starving, +I could pity--I could almost release; but when the rich and the +educated resort to stealing, to gratify their vanity and avarice, +hoping to shelter themselves from punishment by their 'connections,' +and their high position in society--they must be taught, sir, that +they do it at a fearful peril, and that detection will bring down upon +them the same vulgar and rigorous penalties as if they were the lowest +dregs of the people." + +"I agree with you perfectly," replied Franklin, with forced composure, +although the plain picture appalled him, and robbed his countenance of +every trace of color, "but permit me to remark that you must be quite +sure the person before you belongs to this guilty class. Her innocence +can be rendered morally certain. The whole world will brand as cruel +injustice any harsh treatment. A careless girl has been absent-minded. +All people are liable to be so. You look for your spectacles when they +are on your nose--or seek your pocket-handkerchief, and find it in +your hand--" + +"Our opinions differ on that point," said Mr. Jennings coldly, "and a +jury must decide between us. Policemen, take the party before the +magistrate. I will follow with my witnesses, and I pledge myself to +visit so heinous a crime with the utmost rigor of the law." + +The policemen stepped to the side of Caroline. + +"I appeal to your generosity--to your mercy," cried Franklin, "that +she may at least be taken to the American Minister, instead of being +dragged before a magistrate. I request only that you act with +gentleness." + +Mr. Jennings pointed the policemen to the door. + +"And I not only request, I demand it!" cried Franklin. "If you refuse +me, you refuse me at your peril--" + +"You have nothing to command here, sir," replied Mr. Jennings. "The +American Minister can make his statement before the magistrate. I am +not disposed to exercise the least mercy. Policemen, your duty. If her +fate be a terrible one, she has herself to thank for it. I hope it may +deter others from following her example." + +"And what will be my daughter's fate?" asked the unsteady voice of +Mrs. Clifford. + +"Transportation for life," was the reply. + +Mrs. Clifford shrieked. Caroline rose wildly and staggered toward the +door. Mr. Jennings, as if thirsting for her destruction, and fearing +her escape, seized her so roughly that she screamed with pain and +terror, when Franklin dragged him back and hurled him to the wall. His +impulse was to strike him to the earth, but with one of the highest +qualities attained by man, self-government, he recollected himself and +refrained. + +"Policemen," shouted Mr. Jennings, very white, "I command you to take +the whole party into custody. You witnessed the assault. I am in +danger of my life. They are a gang of thieves and cut-throats. Off +with them this instant." + +"Stop!" cried Franklin, and there was something in his voice which +arrested the step of the policemen, and _compelled_ Jennings to stand +in breathless attention. "I demand the presence of one or both of your +partners, before the young lady be removed. You will not, because you +_dare_ not, refuse me this reasonable request. If you do, sir, it were +better you never had been born. Guilty, or not guilty, the person +whom, before she has been tried, your infamous lips have branded as a +common thief, has a right to all mild and gentle treatment, consistent +with law and justice. You say the jury will decide. But the question +is now whether your house is prepared to send her before a jury. That +is the question to be discussed, and you are not in a temper of mind, +sir, to enable you to decide it impartially. The affair will ring from +one end of England and the United States to the other, and the +execrations of thousands, who have as yet never heard of you, will +fall upon your name. You will find that there are two sides to the +question. You will find that if the lady has a malignant accuser she +has also indignant and powerful defenders. The world will say you +might have been excusable not to release her, but you had no right to +hurry her before the public with needless and brutal precipitation. +They will say--and I will take care to tell them--that, overcome by +your violent temper, you insulted--you _assaulted_--a helpless young +girl in your power, whose guilt had not been proved, and that, because +I dragged you back--blind with wrath, and burning with revenge--you +dared to take upon yourself, alone, the whole responsibility of this +outrage, which will bring punishment on you, and disgrace on your +house. They will say let no lady hereafter trust herself across the +threshold of Blake, Blanchard & Co., where the watch is set and the +trap laid for the unwary. They will say that Mr. Jennings is a foul +calumniator of woman as a sex--that he has charged the noble ladies of +England with crime. They will judge whether the young girl could be +guilty without the participation of her mother and myself, who, as you +say, fled with her. The case is one of mere carelessness, or we are +three thieves. Go on, if you dare, without your partners. Your house, +will become infamous, and you--yourself--mark me, sir, shall not +escape the chastisement you deserve!" + +He ceased, and the silence remained for a while unbroken. + +This appeal was not, on the part of Franklin, the mere result of +passion and despair, although from both it received a strange power. +It was a wise calculation that Jennings, who could not be reasoned or +melted, might be terrified from his purpose, till the arrival of his +partners, before whom the matter might take a different turn. By a +happy inspiration Franklin had read the man aright, and he saw changes +of countenance, as he proceeded, which gave boldness to his heart and +fire to his lips. Jennings was a coward. He was terror-struck at the +idea of acting on his "sole responsibility," in an affair which seemed +likely to be so hotly contested. The blood curdled in his veins at the +thought of the deadly enemies, darkly hinted at, and the consequences +clearly threatened. He saw Caroline was no common thief, and Franklin +no common man. There were moments when he actually believed the fact +really was as Franklin represented--and, thus quailing under the +torrent of eloquence to which the voice and manner gave something +absolutely irresistible, half suffocated with rage and fear, he said +with ill assumed indifference: + +"Oh! very well, sir, very well. I will wait for my partners. Nothing +shall be done rashly. Nothing from revenge. But the young lady shall +not escape. Mr. Williams, go and see if Mr. Blake or Mr. Blanchard +have come in." + +And thus at least more time was gained. + +Mr. Williams went out, and returned to say that Mr. Blake had not yet +come in, but Mr. Blanchard had, and would join them immediately. + +The door opened and the person in question entered. He was a young man +of thirty, of unusually prepossessing exterior. A stream of hope shot +through Franklin's heart as he read his face. + +Mr. Blanchard seated himself gravely in the large chair which was +abdicated in his favor by Jennings, who related to him the facts, +respectfully and clearly, and called up the policemen and Mr. Williams +in confirmation. + +"It is a bad case," said Mr. Blanchard. "Our duty is clear. Is there +any thing said in the defence?" + +"Oh yes, there is a powerful defence!" replied Mr. Jennings, with a +sneer, "the young lady took the lace, and kept it half an hour, +running away as fast as she could, but she _but she didn't know she +had it_!! ha! ha! ha!" + +Mr. Blanchard shook his head. + +"Sir, may I speak?" said Franklin. + +"Speak," returned Mr. Blanchard, in a low voice. "If you have any +thing to say I will hear it with the sincerest desire to find it of +weight. But you have a difficult task before you. These occasions are +extremely painful. The necessity of sending to prison a respectable +young lady, as you represent this person to be, is harrowing indeed; +but private feelings must give way to higher considerations. I have a +duty to perform--a duty to society--a duty to my partners--a duty to +God!" + +"You have," rejoined Franklin, "but if you properly examine your +conscience, and ask light of Him who knows the truth, you will hear +the voice of God himself, warning you not to perform that duty +prematurely, carelessly, or cruelly. I ask time. I offer references to +prove that the person in question, from education, character, habits, +opinions, religious principles, and her whole, pure and artless life, +is not, and could not be intentionally guilty of the act in question. +I request time to produce these references. My young companion took +the lace in a moment of bewilderment--of absence of mind. She has just +arrived in London--is dazzled and excited. If, sir, you have a sister, +a daughter, a mother, a wife, picture her--after such a careless +accident--grasped by a policeman, dragged through the streets, exposed +to the eyes of the jesting crowd--the blackest construction put upon +her action, shrinking before a magistrate, cast into prison, and, God +knows what else!--and all because of an act, not in reality more +inexplicable than that of a man who walks off with a hat not his own, +or another person's umbrella--in a fit of forgetfulness." + +Jennings leaned over and whispered something to Mr. Blanchard. + +"It is quite probable," said Mr. Blanchard, "that you believe her +innocent, but the various and glaring circumstances do not permit me +to be of your opinion. The expressive flight, the intervening time, +long enough to discover a mistake merely accidental--the bribe of +L50--no--no--it is impossible," said he, rising, "I am sorry for you, +sir, but this matter rests no longer with me. The prisoner must be +removed." + +"What I ask," said Franklin, "is not her release. It is only time to +make you acquainted with the proofs of which the case is susceptible. +The 'prisoner,' as you call her, is as innocent as the snow yet +unfallen from heaven. I do not ask you to sacrifice what you fancy +your duty, I ask you only to pause ere you execute it. I request you +ere you thrust a shrinking girl, as a suspected thief, before the +public, that you more carefully examine her side of the question. Her +bankers, the Messrs. Baring, will answer for her presence whenever you +desire. My banker will answer for her. The American Minister will +satisfy you of the strong impropriety of any other proceeding. Oh! +sir, in the name of a mother's breaking heart--in the name of sweet +girlish innocence--in the name of God, believe what I say! If you err, +err on the side of mercy. Think, when you lay your head this night on +your pillow, the day has not been lost, for it was marked by an act of +mercy. Think, when on your death-bed, you plead at the throne of God, +He has said, 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.' +If she really had committed the offence, I should not fear to ask you +for mercy on her young head--her inexperienced life. Our Divine Master +granted mercy even to the guilty. Will you refuse it then to this +trembling and innocent girl, for whose guileless intention, in this +terrible accident, I answer before man and God, and with my life and +soul. Come here, Miss Clifford! Take off your veil. Tell Mr. +Blanchard, in the simple language of truth, how this incident took +place." + +"Yes, come here, my young friend," said Mr. Blanchard, "and tell me +how this sad mistake arose." + +Perhaps it was Franklin's eloquence--perhaps it was Caroline's +appearance--perhaps it was both, which drew the silent tear from Mr. +Blanchard's eyes, and those two significant words from his lips. But +oh! to Franklin's soul, wrought up almost to despair--almost, to +madness--they were rapture, they were ecstasy, they were like the +first streak of golden sky which announces to the half-wrecked sailor +that the tempest is over. + +"Speak, my dear young lady," said Mr. Blanchard, "do not tremble so! +you have nothing to fear from me!" + +"I left the door," said Caroline, in a low voice, "without knowing I +had the lace. A gentleman ran against me and knocked it out of my +hand. He picked it up. I then saw what I had done. I exclaimed, +'ma'ma, let us go back!'--but ma'ma had gone on--I was alone--two men +seized me--and--and--" + +She covered her face with her hands, and sunk into the chair. + +"But, so far from coming back," said Mr. Jennings' piercing voice, +"you were walking rapidly away." + +"No," said Caroline. + +"But I say yes!" screamed Jennings. "Mr. Williams, was not the young +woman walking rapidly away?" + +"She _had been_ walking rapidly," said Mr. Williams, "but when we came +up she was, as she says, standing still, looking at the lace. It is +also true that an old gentleman ran against her, knocked the lace out +of her hand, and picked it up again. That I saw from the distance." + +"Mark you!" exclaimed Franklin, "how each small feature of her story +is confirmed." + +"But you left our door," exclaimed Mr. Jennings, "at a furious pace." + +"That I can explain to your satisfaction," said Franklin. "We were +engaged to call upon a lady, Mrs. Porter, No. ----, Portland-Place, at +half past two. This Mrs. Porter herself can testify. We left your door +too late, and walked rapidly to keep our appointment. You can +ascertain from your clerks at what hour we left." + +"It was just half past two," said Mr. Williams. "I looked at the +clock." + +"Mark!" cried Franklin, with an air of triumph. + +"Upon my word, Mr. Jennings," said Mr. Blanchard, "we have been too +hasty--" + +At this moment the door opened, and another person entered. + +"Just in time," muttered Mr. Jennings. + +It was Mr. Blake, chief partner in the firm of Blake, Blanchard & Co. +He was a venerable old gentleman, of an agreeable person, with a +certain dignity which well became his snow-white hair, but through +which, on the present occasion, appeared a settled firmness, almost a +sternness, boding no good. + +"You have come in time," said Jennings. "Do you know what is going on +here?" + +"I do. The facts have been related to me." + +"And the famous defence?" added Jennings, with one of his worst +sneers, "do you know that also?" + +"I do. It is a clear case. There is but one course for us." + +"And yet," cried Jennings, "Mr. Blanchard has been thinking it will +not do to send so respectable a young lady to prison. But I say you +will not have a case in forty years so proper to make a wholesome +example of. If you let this one go, whom can you punish? Precautions +were useless, if thieves can commit their depredations under our very +noses with impunity." + +"I am of your opinion," said Mr. Blake. "The offence is of a very +aggravated description; and I deem it absolutely necessary to send the +delinquent before a magistrate to be punished as she deserves." + +"I have explained--" said Franklin. + +But while he commenced once more his agonizing task, Mr. Jennings took +Mr. Blake aside, and whispered to him some minutes vehemently. +Franklin attempted to speak again. + +"I will hear no explanation," said the old gentleman. "No argument--no +character--no references can prevail against so wicked a felony so +clearly proved. The youth, condition in life, and education of the +person, only render the crime more detestable, and the necessity for a +terrible example more unavoidable. Your own good sense should have +taught you, sir, that threats are here out of place, and violence can +only make matters worse. I have solemnly vowed that I would meet the +next case with the utmost rigor of the law. I am determined to +prosecute. Where is the prisoner? Policemen, take her into custody." + +"But," cried Franklin. + +"I will hear no more," said Mr. Blake, coldly and firmly. "Mr. +Jennings, who has gone over the case with the most attention, is +thoroughly convinced--" + +"Thoroughly!" said Mr. Jennings. + +"Policemen--" + +Franklin's brain whirled in wild despair. He clasped his hands--he +conjured the mild, mistaken man, whose slightest word could save +Caroline from destruction. + +"Mercy! I ask only one day." + +"Young man, you plead in vain! Ask mercy of God, but not of me." + +"Then listen, heart of stone!" cried Franklin, "and hear my final +words. You are old. Your head is white; your feet are already in the +grave. You will, ere long, be called before your Maker--yourself a +trembling suppliant for mercy. If, with cold-blooded, stupid +obstinacy, in the face of my warning, you drag this innocent and +modest girl, prematurely, into a police office--at a bar for +criminals--to stand a spectacle for the public, amid robbers, and +murderers, and to run the fearful chances of the law, I solemnly warn +you, old man, you will have innocent blood on your conscience--you +will call down God's curse upon your head." + +"What can I do?" said Mr. Blake, overwhelmed by his irresistible +earnestness. + +"You can do unto others, as you would have them do unto you--you can +give us time for proof, and yourself for reflection. You can suppose +it was your own daughter in her place. You can examine more carefully. +You can break from the leading-strings of that malignant Mr. Jennings. +You can consult with Mr. Blanchard, a man of reason and feeling, who +disapproves your severity. You can wait to satisfy yourself that this +young lady is distinguished for a stainless character, a pure life, +strict religious principles, humble faith in God, and habitual +communion with him. You can judge for yourself whether this is a case +of _monomania_--whether a person thus distinguished, could be guilty +of intentional purloining. Sir, ocular demonstration weighs _nothing_ +against such a character. You can ask yourself more dispassionately +whether it be not a possibility--a very natural one--for an +absent-minded person to commit such an act mechanically and +unconsciously. You can hear her artless story from her own lips, and +candidly consider if it _may not_ be the truth." + +Carried away by Franklin's eloquent vehemence, Mr. Blake did look. +Caroline had risen. The last spark of earthly hope had fled. She +stood, without gesture or tear. It seemed as if death had already +laid his icy hand upon her, only her eyes were lifted above, while she +breathed a silent prayer to Him whose mighty hand can raise the +trusting heart, in one instant, from the lowest depths of despair. + +"Ha! What! God bless my soul!" suddenly ejaculated the old gentleman, +in great astonishment. "What do I see! My dearest, sweetest young +lady! Mr. Blanchard! Mr. Jennings! Mr. Williams--" + +Caroline gazed at him a moment--uttered a shriek which thrilled to +every heart with an electric shock, cried, "Oh, sir, save me--_you_ +can save me!" and fell insensible into the arms of Franklin. + +"Policemen!--off with you!" cried Mr. Blake, with tears in his eyes. +"Mr. Jennings, you are a fool! I answer with my life for this young +lady. I ran against her in the street. I picked up the lace, and saw +her look of astonishment and horror; and heard her exclaim, '_ma'ma! +let us go back directly!_' Go, proclaim to every one in the +establishment that she is innocent. We are the guilty party--and we +are at _her_ mercy!" + +To terminate the exciting scene, Franklin proposed to return home. A +carriage was called. Caroline had revived, and her feelings, +fortunately, found vent in tears. She wept bitterly on her mother's +bosom, who gave it back with interest. But in the midst of their joy, +not one of the three forgot to offer up their secret, thankful prayer, +to that overruling Providence, whose watchful mercy had rescued them +from a fate too horrible for imagination. + +Franklin could scarcely wait till they walked to the carriage. He +wished to carry--to drag Caroline away. He shifted his position +continually, without apparent cause; at last shook hands with his +companions, saying he would follow the carriage, as he wanted air and +exercise. + +They soon arrived home, where Caroline, in a high state of excitement, +was ordered to bed by a physician; but, after soothing medicines had +calmed certain hysterical symptoms, she fell into a deep sleep, which +the doctor said was worth more than all the apothecaries could +compound. In fact, she did not wake till late next morning, and in a +day or two was comparatively restored. + +But poor Franklin had gone home in a raging fever, which increased +during the night to delirium. His ravings were of magistrates, the +jeering crowd, dungeons, chains, and the convict-ship. Then he was at +the penal settlement. He heard the frightful oaths, obscene jests, and +blasphemous laughter of the convicts. Among them he beheld Caroline +Clifford--haggard, and in rags--now toiling at her task, now shrieking +beneath the bloody lash--and he seemed to grasp the throat of +Jennings, and implored him to stay his hellish hand. + +More than a month passed before he was sufficiently recovered to leave +his room. Every day Mrs. Clifford had visited him, and watched over +him with a mother's love. Every day the carriage of Mr. Blake brought +the old gentleman to the bed-side of the poor invalid, where he +listened to the ravings of his disturbed imagination, and shuddered +to think of what horrors--but for a providential coincidence--he might +have added to the history of human wo. + +At length Mr. Franklin was allowed to take a drive. It is scarcely +necessary to say that he called on the ladies. Mrs. Clifford, +previously apprized of his intended visit, at the sound of the bell, +accidentally remembered that she had left her scissors up stairs. So +Franklin found Caroline alone. + +"You are very, very pale," cried the greatly agitated girl, her eyes +filling with good, honest tears, as she gave him her hand. + +He raised it to his lips. + +"I beg your pardon, Miss Clifford." + +But, like Beatrice, she seemed to hold it there again with a fervor +which even the modest Franklin could not wholly misunderstand. + +"I owe you more than my life," cried Caroline, with such a look as she +had never bestowed upon him before. + +"And yet," cried Franklin, "you fraudulently withhold from me the only +payment in your power." + +"Nonsense--what payment," cried she, blushing deeply. + +"Your dear self!" answered Franklin, in a timid voice. + +"Then you must collect your debt, as other hard-hearted creditors +do--by force." + +"In that case," rejoined Franklin, with a boldness which astonished +himself, "an execution must issue, and proceedings commence directly." + +Mrs. Clifford, having found her scissors, just then entered the room, +but not before the ardent lawyer had performed the threatened +duty--not quite so harrowing a one as that attempted by Mr. Jennings, +though it led to the same result, viz., she was obviously +_transported_, and, as it turned out---_for life_. + +Nor is this all. + +Old Mr. Blake had learned how the land lay from Mrs. Clifford, and he +resolved to make the young people reparation. He owed it to them in +all conscience. They were married in about six weeks; and when the +ceremony was over, a parcel was brought in, directed "_To Mrs. +Franklin, with the compliments of Messrs. Blake, Blanchard & Co.,_" +which, on being opened, was found to contain a superb Cashmere +shawl--thirty yards of the L12 lace, and a neat mahogany box, with a +coronet of diamonds for the young criminal. + +We wont go into the history of the ladies' objections to accepting +these costly testimonials. Mr. Blake pleaded almost as eloquently as +Franklin had done, till at last Franklin "put his foot down," as I +recommend all young husbands to do on such occasions, and showed Mr. +Blake who was master. + +Nor was this all either. + +A number of years afterward, when Mr. and Mrs. Franklin had returned +to New York, and while the fond wife and happy mother was one day +profoundly engaged in arranging a highly ornamented and curious little +cap, her husband entered with a letter, and read as follows: + + TO MRS. CAROLINE FRANKLIN. + + _London, Feb_. 10, 184-. + + MADAM,--It has become my duty to inform you, that, + by the will of the late Mr. Blake, of the firm of + Blake, Blanchard & Co., you have become entitled to + his blessing, and a legacy of L2500 sterling, + which, upon proving your identity, you can either + draw for on me, at thirty days, or have remitted in + any other way you desire. + + I have the honor to be, madam, very respectfully, + your obedient servant, + JOHN LOCKLEY, + + Solicitor, No. ---- Russel Square. + + + + +A FUNERAL THOUGHT. + +BY J. BAYARD TAYLOR. + + + When the pale Genius, to whose hollow tramp + Echo the startled chambers of the soul, + Waves his inverted torch o'er that wan camp + Where the archangel's marshaling trumpets roll, + I would not meet him in the chamber dim, + Hushed, and o'erburthened with a nameless fear, + When the breath flutters, and the senses swim, + And the dread hour is near! + + Though Love's dear arms might clasp me fondly then, + As if to keep the Summoner at bay, + And woman's wo and the calm grief of men + Hallow at last the still, unbreathing clay-- + These are Earth's fetters, and the soul would shrink, + Thus bound, from Darkness and the dread Unknown, + Stretching its arms from Death's eternal brink, + Which it must dare alone! + + But in the awful silence of the sky, + Upon some mountain summit, never trod + Through the bright ether would I climb, to die + Afar from mortals, and alone with God! + To the pure keeping of the stainless air + Would I resign my feeble, failing breath, + And with the rapture of an answered prayer + Welcome the kiss of Death! + + The soul, which wrestled with that doom of pain, + Prometheus-like, its lingering portion here, + Would there forget the vulture and the chain, + And leap to freedom from its mountain-bier! + All that it ever knew, of noble thought, + Would guide it upward to the glorious track, + Nor the keen pangs by parting anguish wrought, + Turn its bright glances back! + + Then to the elements my frame would turn; + No worms should riot on my coffined clay, + But the cold limbs, from that sepulchral urn, + In the slow storms of ages waste away! + Loud winds, and thunder's diapason high, + Should be my requiem through the coming time, + And the white summit, fading in the sky, + My monument sublime! + + + + +THE MEMORIAL TREE. + +BY WM. GILMORE SIMMS, AUTHOR OF "THE YEMASSE," "RICHARD HURDIS," ETC. + + Great trees that o'er us grow-- + Green leaves that gather round them--the fresh hues, + That tell of fruit, and blossoms yet to blow, + Opening fond bosoms to the embracing dews; + + These, now so bright, + That deck the slopes about thy childhood's home, + And seem, in long duration, to thy sight, + As they had promise of perpetual bloom; + + So linked with all + The first dear throbs of feeling in thy heart, + When, at the dawn of summer and of fall, + Thou weptst the leaf that must so soon depart! + + What had all these, + Of frail, deciduous nature, to persuade, + Howe'er their sweets might charm, and beauty please, + The memories that their own could never aid? + + They kept no tale-- + No solemn history of the fruitful hour; + The lover's promise, the beloved one's wail-- + To wake the dead leaf in each lonely bower! + + The autumn breath + O'erthrew each frail memorial of their past; + And every token was resigned to death, + In the first summons of the northern blast. + + They nourished naught + That to the chain of moral being binds + The recollections of the once gay spot, + And its sweet offices, to future minds. + + Thou may'st repair-- + Thou, who hast loved in summer-eve to glide + With her whom thou hast still beheld as fair, + When she no longer wandered by thy side. + + And thou wilt weep + Each altered aspect of that happiest home, + Which saw the joys its memories could not keep, + Save by the sympathy which shares their doom. + + Thus Ruin stands + For Ruin--and the wreck of favorite things, + To him who o'er the waste but wrings his hands, + Proofs of the _fall_, and not the spring-time brings. + + Ah! who will weep, + In after seasons, when thou too art gone, + Within this grot, where shadowy memories keep + Their watch above the realm they keep alone? + + Who will lament, + In fruitless tears, that she the dear one died, + And thy surviving heart, in languishment, + Soon sought the grave and withered at her side? + + A newer bright + Makes young the woods--and bowers that not to thee + Brought fruit or blossom, triumph in the sight + Of those who naught but fruit and blossom see; + + To whom no voice + Whispers, that through the loved one's would the root + Of that exulting shrub, with happiest choice, + Has gone, with none its passage to dispute. + + While thine own heart, + In neighboring hillock, conscious, it may be-- + Quivers to see the fibres rend and part + The fair white breast which was so dear to thee. + + Of all the past, + That precious history of thy love and youth, + When not a cloud thy happy dawn o'ercast, + When all thou felt'st was joy, thou saw'st was truth; + + These have no speech + For idiot seasons that still come and go-- + To whom the heart no offices can teach, + Vainer than breezes that at midnight blow! + + And yet there seem + Memorials still in nature, which are taught,-- + Unless all pleasant fancies be a dream, + To bring our sweetest histories back to thought. + + A famous tree + Was this, three hundred years ago, when stood + The hunter-chief below it, bold and free, + Proud in his painted pomp and deeds of blood. + + By hunger taught, + He gathered the brown acorn in its shade, + And ere he slept, still gazing upward, caught + Sweet glimpses of the night, in stars arrayed. + + His hatchet sunk + With sharp wound, fixing his own favorite sign, + Deep in the living column of its trunk, + Where thou may'st read a history such as thine. + + He, too, could feel + Such passion as awakes the noble soul-- + And in fond hour, perchance, would hither steal, + With one, of all his tribe, who could his ire control. + + And others signs, + Tokens of races, greatlier taught, that came + To write like record, though in smoother lines, + And thus declare a still more human flame. + + Here love's caprice-- + The hope, the doubt, the dear despondencies--- + Joy that had never rest, hope without peace-- + These each declared the grief he never flies. + + And the great oak + Grew sacred to each separate pilgrimage, + Nor heeded, in his bulk, the sudden stroke + That scarred his giant trunk with seams of age. + + And we who gaze + Upon each, rude memorial--letter and date-- + Still undefaced by storm and length of days, + Stand, as beneath the shadow of a fate! + + Some elder-born, + A sire of wood and vale, guardian and king + Of separate races, unsubdued, unshorn, + Whose memories grasp the lives of every meaner thing! + + With great white beard + Far streaming with a prophet-like display, + Such as when Moses on the Mount appeared, + And prostrate tribes looked down, or looked away! + + With outstretched arms, + Paternal, as if blessing--with a grace, + Such as, in strength and greatness, ever charms, + As wooing the subdued one to embrace! + + Thus still it stood, + While the broad forests, 'neath the pioneer, + Perished--proud relic of the ancient wood-- + Men loved the record-tree, and bade them spare! + + And still at noon, + Repairing to its shadow, they explore + Its chronicles, still musing o'er th' unknown, + And telling well-known histories, told of yore! + + We shall leave ours, + Dear heart! and when our sleep beneath its boughs + Shall suffer spring to spread o'er us her flowers, + Eyes that vow love like ours shall trace our vows. + + + + +THE RAINBOW. + +BY MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. + + + Mountain! that first received the foot of man-- + Giving him shelter, when the shoreless flood + Went surging by, that whelmed a buried world-- + I see thee in thy lonely grandeur rise-- + I see the white-haired Patriarch, as he knelt + Beside his earthen altar, 'mid his sons, + While beat in praise the only pulse of life + Upon this buried planet,-- + O'er the gorged + And furrowed soil, swept forth a numerous train, + Horned, or cloven-footed, fierce, or tame, + While, mixed with song, the sound of countless wings, + His rescued prisoners, fanned the ambient air. + + The sun drew near his setting, clothed in gold, + But on the Patriarch, ere from prayer he rose, + A darkly-cinctured cloud chill tears had wept, + And rain-drops lay upon his silver hairs. + Then burst an arch of wondrous radiance forth, + Spanning the vaulted skies. Its mystic scroll + Proclaimed the amnesty that pitying Heaven + Granted to earth, all desolate and void. + Oh signet-ring, with which the Almighty sealed + His treaty with the remnant of the clay + That shrank before him, to remotest time + Stamp wisdom on the souls that turn to thee. + Unswerving teacher, who four thousand years + Hast ne'er withheld thy lesson, but unfurled + As shower and sunbeam bade, thy glorious scroll,-- + Oft, 'mid the summer's day, I musing sit + At my lone casement, to be taught of thee. + Born of the tear-drop and the smile, methinks, + Thou hast affinity with man, for such + His elements, and pilgrimage below. + Our span of strength and beauty fades like thine, + Yet stays its fabric on eternal truth + And boundless mercy. + The wild floods may come-- + The everlasting fountains burst their bounds-- + The exploring dove without a leaf return-- + Yea, the fires glow that melt the solid rock, + And earth be wrecked: _What then?_--be still, my soul, + Enter thine Ark--God's promise cannot fail-- + For surely as yon rainbow tints the cloud, + His truth, thine Ararat, will shelter thee. + + + + +SPIRIT-YEARNINGS FOR LOVE. + +BY MRS. H. MARION WARD. + + + Love me, darling, love me, for my wild and wayward heart, + Like Noah's dove in search of rest, will hover where thou art; + Will linger round thee, like a spell, till by thy hand caressed, + It folds its weary, care-worn wings, to nestle on thy breast. + + Love me, darling, love me! When my soul was sick with strife, + Thy soothing words have been the sun that warmed it into life; + Thy breath called forth the passion-flowers, that slumbered + 'neath the ice + Of self-distrust, and now their balm makes earth a _Paradise_. + + Love me, darling, love me! Let thy dreams be all of _me_! + Let waking thoughts be round my path, as mine will cling to thee! + But if--oh, God! it cannot be--but if thou _shouldst_ grow cold + And weary of my jealous love, or think it over-bold-- + + Or if, perchance, some fairer form should charm thy truant eye, + Thou'lt find me _woman_--proud and calm, so leave me--let me die. + I'd not reclaim a wavering heart whose pulse has once grown cold, + To write my name in princely halls, with diamonds and gold. + + So love me, only love me, for I have no world but thee, + And darksome clouds are in my sky--'tis woman's destiny; + But let them frown--I heed them not--no fear can they impart, + If thou art near, with smiles to bend hope's rainbow round my heart. + + + + +THE RIVAL SISTERS. + +AN ENGLISH TRAGEDY OF REAL LIFE. + +BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, AUTHOR OF "THE ROMAN TRAITOR," +"MARMADUKE WYVIL," ETC. + + +It has been gravely stated by an Italian writer of celebrity, that +"the very atrocity of the crimes which are therein committed, proves +that in Italy the growth of man is stronger and more vigorous, and +nearer to the perfect standard of manhood, than in any other country." + +A strange paradox, truly, but not an uningenious--at least for a +native of that "purple land, where law secures not life," who would +work out of the very reproach, an argument of honor to his country. If +it be true, however, that proneness to the commission of unwonted and +atrocious crime is to be held a token of extraordinary vigor--vigor of +nerve, of temperament, of passion, of physical development--in a race +of men, then surely must the Anglo-Norman breed, under all +circumstances of time, place, and climate, be singularly destitute of +all these qualities--nay, singularly frail, effeminate, and +incomplete. + +For it is an undoubted fact, both of the past and present history of +that great and still increasing race, whether limited to the narrow +bounds of the Island Realm which gave it being, or extended to the +boundless breadth of isles, and continents, and oceans, which it has +filled with its arms, its arts, its industry, its language--it is, I +say, an undoubted fact, that those dreadful and sanguinary crimes, +forming a class apart and distinct of themselves, engendered for the +most part by morbid passions, love, lust, jealousy, and revenge, which +are of daily occurrence in the southern countries of, Europe, Asia, +and America, are almost unknown in those happier lands, where English +laws prevail, with English liberty and language. + +It is to this that must be ascribed the fact, that, in the very few +instances where crimes of this nature have occurred in England or +America, the memory of them is preserved with singular pertinacity, +the smallest details handed down from generation to generation, and +the very spots in which they have occurred, howmuchsoever altered or +improved in the course of ages, haunted, as if by an actual presence, +by the horror and the scent of blood; while on the other hand the fame +of ordinary deeds of violence and rapine seems almost to be lost +before the lives of the perpetrators are run out. + +One, and almost, I believe, a singular instance of this kind--for I +would not dignify the brawls and assassinations which have disgraced +some of our southern cities, the offspring of low principles and an +unregulated society, by comparing them to the class of crimes in +question, which imply even in their atrocity a something of perverted +honor, of extravagant affection, or at least of not ignoble +passion--is the well-known Beauchamp tragedy of Kentucky, a tale of +sin and horror which has afforded a theme to the pens of several +distinguished writers, and the details of which are as well known on +the spot at present, as if years had not elapsed since its occurrence. +And this, too, in a country prone above all others, from the migratory +habits of its population, to cast aside all tradition, and to lose +within a very few years the memory of the greatest and most +illustrious events upon the very stage of their occurrence. + +It is not, therefore, wonderful that in England, where the immobility +of the population, the reverence for antiquity, and the great +prevalence of oral tradition, induced probably at first by the want of +letters, cause the memory of even past trifles to dwell for ages in +the breasts of the simple and moral people, any deed of romantic +character, any act of unusual atrocity, any crime prompted by unusual +or extraordinary motives, should become, as it were, part and parcel +of the place wherein it was wrought; that the leaves of the trees +should whisper it to the winds of evening; that the echoes of the +lonely hills should repeat it; that the waters should sigh a burthen +to its strain; and that the very night should assume a deeper shadow, +a more horrid gloom, from the awe of the unforgotten sin. + +I knew a place in my boyhood, thus haunted by the memory of strange +crime; and whether it was merely the terrible romance of the story, or +the wild and gloomy character of the scenery endowed with a sort of +natural fitness to be the theatre of terrible events, or yet again the +union of the two, I know not; but it produced upon my mind a very +powerful influence, amounting to a species of fascination, which +constantly attracted me to the spot, although when there, the weight +of the tradition, and the awe of the scene produced a sense of actual +pain. + +The place to which I allude was but a few miles distant from the +celebrated public school, at which I passed the happiest days of a not +uneventful life, and was within an easy walk of the college limits; so +that when I had attained that favored eminence, known as the sixth +form, which allows its happy occupants to roam the country, free from +the fear of masters, provided only they attend at appointed hours, it +was my frequent habit to stroll away from the noisy playing-fields +through the green hedgerow lanes, or to scull my wherry over the +smooth surface of the silver Thames, toward the scene of dark +tradition; and there to lap myself in thick coming fancies, half sad, +half sweet, yet terrible withal, and in their very terror attractive, +until the call of the homeward rooks, and the lengthened shadows of +the tall trees on the greensward, would warn me that I too must hie me +back with speed, or pay the penalty of undue delay. + +Now, as the story has in itself, apart from the extraneous interest +with which a perfect acquaintance with its localities may have +invested it in my eyes, a powerful and romantic character; as its +catastrophe was no less striking than un-English; and as the passions +which gave rise to it were at once the strongest and the most +general--though rarely prevailing, at least among us Anglo-Normans, to +so fearful an extent--I am led to hope that others may find in it +something that may enchain their attention for a time, though it may +not affect them as it has me with an influence, unchanged by change of +scene, unaltered by the lapse of time, which alters all things. + +I propose, therefore, to relate it, as I heard it first from an old +superannuated follower of the family, which, owning other, though not +fairer demesnes in some distant county, had never more used +Ditton-in-the-Dale as their dwelling place, although well nigh two +centuries had elapsed since the transaction which had scared them away +from their polluted household gods. + +But first, I must describe briefly the characteristics of the scenery, +without which a part of my tale would be hardly comprehensible, while +the remarkable effect produced by the coincidence, if I may so express +myself, between the nature of the deed, and the nature of the place, +would be lost entirely. + +In the first place, then, I must premise that the name of +Ditton-in-the-Dale is in a great measure a misnomer, as the house and +estate which bear that name, are situated on what a visiter would be +at first inclined to call a dead level, but on what is in truth a +small secondary undulation, or hollow, in the broad, flat valley +through which the father of the English rivers, the royal-towered +Thames, pursues, as Gray sang, + + The turf, the flowers, the shades among, + His silver-winding way. + +But so destitute is all that country of any deep or well defined +valleys, much less abrupt glens or gorges, that any hollow containing +a tributary stream, which invariably meanders in slow and sluggish +reaches through smooth, green meadow-land, is dignified with the name +of dale, or valley. The country is, however, so much intersected by +winding lanes, bordered with high straggling white-thorn hedges full +of tall timber trees, is subdivided into so many small fields, all +enclosed with similar fences, and is diversified with so many woods, +and clumps of forest trees, that you lose sight of the monotony of its +surface, in consequence of the variety of its vegetation, and of the +limited space which the eye can comprehend, at any one time. + +The lane by which I was wont to reach the demesne of Ditton, partook +in an eminent degree of this character, being very narrow, winding +about continually without any apparent cause, almost completely +embowered by the tall hawthorn hedges, and the yet taller oaks and +ashes which grew along their lines, making, when in full verdure, +twilight of noon itself, and commanding no view whatever of the +country through which it ran, except when a field-gate, or cart-track +opened into it, affording a glimpse of a lonely meadow, bounded, +perhaps, by a deep wood-side. + +On either hand of this lane was a broad, deep ditch, both of them +quite unlike any other ditches I have ever seen. Their banks were +irregular; and it would seem evident that they had not been dug for +any purposes of fencing or enclosure; and I have sometimes imagined, +from their varying width and depth--for in places they were ten feet +deep, and three times as broad, and at others but a foot or two +across, and containing but a few inches of water--that their beds had +been hollowed out to get marl or gravel for the convenience of the +neighboring cultivators. + +Be this as it may, they were at all times brimful of the clearest and +most transparent water I ever remember to have seen--never turbid even +after the heaviest rains; and though bordered by water-flags, and +tapestried in many places by the broad, round leaves of the white and +yellow water-lilies, never corrupted by a particle of floating scum, +or green duckweed. + +Whether they were fed by secret springs I know not; or whether they +communicated by sluices or side-drains with the neighboring Thames; I +never could discover any current or motion in their still, glassy +waters, though I have wandered by their banks a hundred times, +watching the red-finned roach and silvery dace pursue each other among +the shadowy lily leaves, now startling a fat yellow frog from the +marge, and following him as he dived through the limpid blackness to +the very bottom, now starting in my own turn, as a big water-rat would +swim from side to side, and vanish in some hole of the marly bank, and +now endeavoring to catch the great azure-bodied, gauze-winged +dragon-flies, as they shot to and fro on their poised wings, pursuing +kites of the insect race, some of the smaller ephemera. + +It was those quiet, lucid waters, coupled with the exceeding shadiness +of the trees, and its very unusual solitude--I have walked it, I +suppose, from end to end at least a hundred times, and I never +remember to have met so much even as a peasant returning from his +daily labor, or a country maiden tripping to the neighboring +town--that gave its character, and I will add, its charm to this half +pastoral, half sylvan lane. For nearly three miles it ran in one +direction, although, as I have said, with many devious turns, and +seemingly unnecessary angles, and through that length it did not pass +within the sound of one farm-yard, or the sight of one cottage +chimney. But to make up for this, of which it was, indeed, a +consequence, the nightingales were so bold and familiar that they +might be heard all day long filling the air with their delicious +melodies, not waiting, as in more frequented spots, the approach of +night, whose dull ear to charm with amorous ravishment; nay, I have +seen them perched in full view on the branches, gazing about them +fearless with their full black eyes, and swelling their emulous +throats in full view of the spectator. + +Three miles passed, the lane takes a sudden turn to the northward, +having previously run, for the most part, east and west; and here, in +the inner angle, jutting out suddenly from a dense thicket of +hawthorns and hazels, an old octagonal summer-house, with a roof +shaped like an extinguisher, projects into the ditch, which here +expands into a little pool, some ten or twelve yards over in every +direction, and perhaps deeper than at any other point of its course. + +Beyond the summer-house there is a little esplanade of green turf, +faced with a low wall toward the ditch, allowing the eye to run down a +long, narrow avenue of gigantic elm-trees, meeting at the top in the +perfect semblance of a Gothic aisle, and bordered on each hand by +hedges of yew, six feet at least in height, clipped into the form and +almost into the solidity of a wall. At the far end of this avenue, +which must be nearly two-thirds of a mile in length, one can discern a +glimpse of a formal garden, and beyond that, of some portion of what +seems to be a large building of red brick. + +At the extremity of the esplanade and little wall, there grows an +enormous oak, not very tall, but with an immense girth of trunk, and +such a spread of branches that it completely overshadows the +summer-house, and overhangs the whole surface of the small pool in +front of it. Thenceforth, the tall and tangled hedge runs on, as usual +denying all access of the eye, and the deep, clear ditch all access of +the foot, to the demesnes within; until at the distance of perhaps a +mile and a quarter, a little bridge crosses the latter, and a green +gate, with a pretty rustic lodge beside it, gives entrance to a smooth +lawn, with a gravel-road running across it, and losing itself on the +farther side, in a thick belt of woodland. + +It is, however, with the summer-house that I have to do principally, +for it is to it that the terror of blood has clung through the lapse +of years, as the scent of the Turkish Atar is said to cling, +indestructible, to the last fragment of the vessel which had once +contained it. + +When first I saw that small lonely pavilion, I had heard nothing of +the strange tradition which belonged to it, yet as I looked on the +plastered walls, all covered with spots of damp and mildew, on the +roof overrun with ivy, in masses so wildly luxuriant as almost to +conceal the shape, on the windows, one in each side of the octagon, +closed by stout jalousies, which had been once green with paint, but +were now green with damp and vegetable mould, a strange feeling, half +of curiosity and half of terror, came over me, mixed with that +singular fascination of which I have spoken, which seemed to deny me +any rest until I should have searched out the mystery--for I felt sure +that mystery there was--connected with that summer-house, so desolate +and so fast lapsing into ruin, while the hedges and gardens within +appeared well cared for, and in trim cultivation. + +I well remember the first time I beheld that lonely and deserted +building. It was near sunset, on as lovely a summer evening as ever +shed its soft light on the earth; the air was breathless; the sky +cloudless; thousands of swallows were upon the wing, some skimming the +limpid surface of those old ditches, others gliding on balanced +pinions so far aloft in the darkening firmament that the eye could +barely discern them. + +The nightingales were warbling their rich, melancholy notes from every +brake and thicket; the bats had come forth and were flitting to and +fro on their leathern wings under the dark trees; but the brilliant +dragon-flies, and all the painted tribe of butterflies had vanished +already, and another race, the insects of the night, had taken their +places. + +The rich scent of the new-mown hay loaded the air with fragrance, and +vied with the odors of the eglantine and honeysuckle, which, increased +by the falling dew, steamed up like incense to the evening skies. + +I was alone, and thoughtful; for the time although sweet and +delicious, had nothing in it gay or joyous; the lane along which I was +strolling was steeped in the fast increasing shadows, for although the +air aloft was full of sunshine, and the topmost leaves of the tall +ashes shimmered like gold in the late rays, not a single beam +penetrated the thick hedgerows, or fell upon the sandy horse-road. The +water in the deep ditches looked as black as night, and the plunge of +the frogs into their cool recesses startled the ear amid the solitude +and stillness of the place. + +It was one of those evenings, in a word, which calls up, we know not +why, a train of thought not altogether sad, nor wholly tender, but +calm and meditative and averse to action. I had been wandering along +thus for nearly an hour, musing deeply all the while, yet perfectly +unconscious that I was musing, much more what was the subject of my +meditations, when coming suddenly to the turn of the lane, the old +summer-house met my eyes, and almost startled me, so little did I +expect in that place to see any thing that should recall to my mind +the dwellings or the vicinity of man. + +The next minute I began to scrutinize, and to wonder--for it was +evident that this building must be an appendage to the estate of some +gentleman or person of degree, and, knowing all the families of note +in that neighborhood, I was well assured that no one dwelt here of +sufficient position to be the owner of what appeared at first sight to +be a noble property. + +Anxious as I was, however, to effect my entrance into that enchanted +ground, I could discover no means of doing so; for the depth of the +water effectually cut off all access to the hedgerow banks, even if +there had been any prospect of forcing a passage through the tangled +thorn-bushes beyond. Before I could find any solution to my problem, +the fast thickening shadows admonished me that I must beat my retreat; +and it was only by dint of redoubled speed that I reached college in +time to escape the consequences of absence from roll-call. + +An early hour of the evening found me at my post on the following day; +for having a direct object now in view, I wasted no time on the road, +and the sun was still some distance above the horizon, when I reached +the summer-house. + +It had been my hope, as I went along, that I might find some shallow +spot, with a corresponding gap in the hedge, before reaching the +place, by means of which I might turn the defences, and take the enemy +in the rear; but it was all in vain; and I came upon the ground +without discovering any opening by which an animal larger than a rat +could enter the forbidden ground. + +Difficulty, it is well known, heightens desire; and, if I wished +before, I was now determined that I would get in. Quickening my pace, +I set off at a smart run to reconnoitre the defences beyond, but +having found nothing that favored my plans, in some half mile or so, I +again returned, now bent on forcing my way, even if I should be +compelled to undress, and swim across the pool to the further side. + +Before having recourse to this last step, however, I reconnoitered my +ground somewhat more narrowly than before, and soon discovered that +one of the main limbs of the great oak shot quite across the pool, and +extended some little distance on my side over terra firma. + +It is true that the nearer extremity of the branch was rather of the +slenderest, to support the weight even of a boy, and that the lowest +point was a foot or two above my head. But what of that? I was young +and active in those days, and somewhat bold withal; and without a +spice of danger, where were the pleasure or excitement of adventure? + +It did not take me long to make up my mind, and before I had well +thought of the risk, I had swung myself up into the branches, and was +creeping, with even less difficulty than I had anticipated, along the +great gnarled bough above the mirrored pool. + +Danger, in fact, there was none; for slender as the extremities +appeared, they were tough English oak, and the parent branch once +gained, would have supported the weight of Otus and Ephialtes, and all +their giant crew, much more of one slight Etonian. + +In five minutes, or less, I had reached the fork of the trunk, and, +swarming down on the further side, stood in the full fruition of my +hopes, on that enchanted ground. + +It was as I had expected to find it, a singular and gloomy spot; the +tall elm trees which formed the avenue, and the black wall of clipped +yew, which followed their course, diverging to the right and left, +formed a semicircle, the chord of which was the low wall and hawthorn +hedge, the summer-house standing, as I entered, in the angle on my +left hand. + +Although, as I have said, the sun was still high in heaven, the little +area was almost dark already; and it was difficult, indeed, to +conjecture for what end the wisdom of our ancestors had planted a +sun-dial in the centre of the grass-plat, where it seemed physically +impossible that a chance sunbeam should ever strike it, to tell the +hour. + +If it had not been for the narrow open space between the oak tree and +the summer-house, the little lawn would even now have been as black as +night; as it was, a sort of misty-gray twilight, increased, perhaps, +by the thin vapors rising from the tranquil pool, filled all its +precincts; and beyond these, stretching away in long perspective until +the arch at the further end seemed dwindled to the size of a needle's +eye, was the long aisle of gloomy foliage, as massive and impenetrable +to any ray of light as the stone arches of a Gothic cloister. + +The only thing that conveyed an idea of gayety or life, to the cold +and tomb-like scenery, was the glimpse of bright sunshine which lay on +the open garden at the extremity of the elm-walk, with the gaudy and +glowing hues, indistinctly seen in the distance, of some summer +flowers. + +Yet even this was not all unmixed with something of melancholy, for +the contrast of the gay sunbeams and bright flowers only rendered the +gloom more apparent, and like a convent-garden, seemed to awaken +cravings after the joyous world without, diminishing nothing of the +sorrow and monotony within. + +But I was not in those days much given to moralizing, or to the +investigation of my own inward feelings. + +I had come thither to inquire, to see, to learn, to find out +things--not causes. And perceiving at one glance that my first +impression was correct, that the grass-plots were recently mown, the +gravel-walks newly rolled, and spotless of weeds, the tall yew hedges +assiduously clipped into the straightest and most formal lines; that +every thing, in short, displayed the most heedful tendance, the +neatest cultivation, with the exception of the summer-pavilion, which +evidently was devoted to decay, I became but the more satisfied that +there was some mystery, and the more resolute to probe it to the core. + +It was quite clear that when that garden was laid out, and that avenue +planted, how many years ago the giant size of the old elms denoted, +the summer-house was the meaning of the whole design. The avenue had +no object but to lead to it, the little lawn no purpose but to receive +it. Doubly strange, therefore, did it seem that these should be kept +up in all their trimness, that suffered to fall into decay. + +It was the tragedy of Hamlet, with Hamlet's part omitted! + +I stood for a little while wondering, and half overcome by a sort of +indescribable fanciful superstition. A cloud had come over the sun, +the nightingales had ceased to sing, and there was not a sound of any +kind to be heard, except the melancholy murmur of the summer air in +the tree-tops. + +In a moment, however, the transitory spell was shaken off, and, once +more the bold and reckless schoolboy, I turned to the performance of +my self-imposed task. + +The summer-house, as I have said, was octagon, three of its sides, +with a window in each, jutting out into the clear pool, and three, +with a door in the centre, and a window on each side, fronting the +little lawn. But, alas! the windows were all secured with jalousies, +strongly bolted and barred from within, and the door was secured by a +lock, the key of which was absent. + +A short examination showed, however, that the door was held by no +bolts at the top or bottom; and the rusty condition of both lock and +hinges rendered it probable that it would not stand a very violent +assault. + +Wherefore, retreating some twenty paces, I ran at it _more Etonensi_, +at the top of my speed, planted the sole of my foot even and square +against the key-hole, with the whole impetus of my charge, and had the +satisfaction of feeling the door fly open in an instant, while a +jingling clatter within showed that my entrance had been effected with +no greater damage to the premises than the starting of the staple into +which the bolt of the lock shot. + +Having entered thus, my first task was to repair damages, which was +effected in five minutes, by driving the staple into its old place by +aid of a great stone; my second, to provide means for future visits, +which was as speedily managed by driving back the bolt of the lock +with the same great stone; and my third, to look eagerly and curiously +about me. To do this more effectually, I soon opened the two windows +looking upon the lawn, and let in the light, for the first time, I +fancy, in many a year, to that deserted room. + +If I had marveled much before I entered, much more did I marvel now; +for although every thing within showed marks of the utmost negligence +and decay, though spiders had woven their webs in every angle, though +mildew and damp mould had defaced the painted walls, though the +gilding was black and tarnished, though the dust lay thick on the +furniture, still I had never seen any thing in my life, except the +state-rooms at Hampton Court and Windsor Castle, which could have vied +with this pavilion in the splendor of its original decoration. + +Its area was about thirty feet in diameter, and in height nearly the +same, with a domed roof, richly fretted with what had once been golden +scroll-work upon an azure ground. The walls were painted, as even _I_ +could discover, by the hand of a master, with copies from Guido and +Caracci, in compartments bordered with massive gilded scroll-work, the +ground between the panels having been originally, like the ceiling, of +bright azure. The window-frames had been gilded; and the inside of the +door painted, like the walls, in azure, with pictures of high merit in +the panels. Every side of the octagon but two, the opposite walls to +the right and left, were occupied by windows or a door; but that to +the right was filled by a mantel-piece, exquisitely wrought with +Caryatides in white Carrara marble, with a copy of the Aurora above +it, while the space opposite to it had been occupied by a superb +mirror, reaching from the cornice of the ceiling. + +Nearly in the centre of this mirror, however, there was a small +circular fracture, as if made by a stone or a bullet, with long cracks +radiating, like the beams of a star, in all directions over the +shivered plate; and when I looked at it more closely, I observed that +it was dashed in many places with large drops of some dark purple +fluid, which had hardened with time into compact and solid gouts. + +I thought little of this at the time, and only wondered why people +could be so mad as to abandon so beautiful a place; and why, since +they had abandoned it, they did not remove the furniture, of which +even a boy's eye could detect the value. + +There was a centre-table of circular form, the pedestal of which, +curiously carved, had been wrought, like all the rest, in gold and +azure, while the slat, when I had wiped away with some fresh green +leaves the thick layer of dust which covered it, positively astonished +my eyes, by the delicacy and beauty of the designs with which it was +adorned. Beside this, there were divans and arm-chairs of the same +fashion and colors, with cushions which had been once of sky-blue +damask, though their brilliancy, and even their hues, had long ago +been defaced by the dust, the dampness, and the squalor of that +neglected place. + +I should have mentioned, that on the beautiful table I discovered +gouts of the same dark substance which I had previously observed on +the broken mirror: and that there were still clearly perceptible on +one of the divans, dark splashes, and what must, when fluid, have been +almost a pool of the same deep, rusty hue. + +At the time, it is true, I paid little attention to these things, +being busily employed in the boy-like idea of putting my newly +discovered palace of Armida into a complete state of repair, and +coming to pass all my leisure moments, even to the studying my +Prometheus Bound, and composing my weekly hexameters and Alcaics in +this sweet sequestered spot. + +And, in truth, within a week I had put the greater part of my plan +into execution; purloined dusters from my dame's boarding-house, green +boughs of the old elms for brooms, and water from the ditch, soon made +things clean at least; and the air, which I suffered, so long as I was +there, daily, to blow through it in all directions, soon rendered it, +comparatively speaking, dry and comfortable; and when all its windows +were thrown wide, it would be scarcely possible to find a more +lightsome or delicious spot for summer musing than that old English +summer-house. + +Thus things went on for weeks, for months, unsuspected--for I always +latched the door, and secured the windows from within, before leaving +my fairy palace for the night; and as all looked just as usual +without, no one so much as dreamed of trying the lock, to ascertain if +a door were still fastened, the threshhold of which, as men believed, +no human foot had crossed since the days of the second James. + +I could often, it is true, discover the traces of recent labor in the +immediate neighborhood of my discovery; I could perceive at a glance +where the grass had been newly shorn, the yew hedges clipped, or the +gravel-walks rolled, but never, in the course of several months, +during which I spent every fine evening, either reading, or musing, or +composing my boy verses, in that my enchanted castle--for I began +really to consider it almost my own--did I see any human being on the +premises. + +The cause of this, which I did not suspect until it was revealed to +me, after chance had discovered my visits to the place, was simply +this, that my intrusions were confined solely to the evening, +whereas, so great was the awe of the servants and the workmen for that +lonely and terror-haunted spot, that nothing short of absolute +compulsion, or the strongest necessity, would have induced them to go +near the place, after the sun had turned downward from the zenith. + +In the meantime, gratified by the complete success of my first inroad, +and the possession of my first discovery, I felt no inclination to +push my advances further, or to make any incursion into the body of +the place. + +Every evening, as early as I could escape from the college walls, I +was at my post, and lingered there as late as college hours would +permit. It was a strange fancy in a boy, and stranger yet than would +at first appear in this, that there was a very considerable admixture +of something nearly approaching to fear, and that of a painful kind, +in the feelings which made me so assiduous in my visits to that old +pavilion. + +There was, it is true, nothing definite in my fancies. I knew nothing, +I cannot say even that I suspected any thing, concerning the +mysterious closing of the place; and often, since I have been made +acquainted with the tale, I have marveled at my own obtuseness, and +wondered that a secret so transparent should have escaped me. + +So it was, however, that I suspected nothing, although I felt sure +that mystery there was; and being of somewhat an imaginative temper, I +used to amuse myself by accounting for it in my own mind, weaving all +sorts of strange and wild romances, and inventing the most horrible +stories that can be conceived, until, as the shadows would fall dark +around me, daunted by my own conceptions, I would make all secure and +fast with trembling fingers, swing myself back across over the pool by +my accustomed oak-branch, and run home as hard as my legs could carry +me, haunted by indistinct and almost superstitious horror. + +Thus things went on, until at the end of summer I was at last detected +in my stolen visits, and the whole mystery was cleared up. + +I remember as clearly as if I heard it now, the exclamation of terror +and dismay uttered by the old gardener, who, having left some +implement behind him on the lawn during the morning labors, had been +forced to bend his unwilling steps back to the haunted ground to +recover it. + +I could not but smile afterward, when he recounted to me his +astonishment and terror at seeing the old summer-house, which never +had been opened within the memory of man, with all its windows wide to +the free air and evening sunshine--when he told me how often he turned +back to seek aid from his fellows--how he almost believed that fiends +or evil spirits were holding their foul sabbath there, and how he +started aghast with horror, not now for himself, but for me, as he +beheld the young Etonian stretched tranquilly upon the blood-stained +couch--for those dark stains were of human gore--conning his task for +the morrow. + +I rushed out of the place at his hurried outcry; a few words told my +story, and plead my excuse--with the good, simple-minded rustic little +excuse was needed--but it was not till after many sittings, and many a +long afternoon's discourse, that I learned all the details of the sad +event which had converted that fair pavilion into a place as terrible, +to the ideas of the country folks, as a dark charnel-vault. + +"Ay!" said the old man, as he gazed fearfully about him, after I had +persuaded him at length to cross the dreaded threshhold, "Ay! it is +all as they tell, though not a man of them has ever seen it. There is +the glass which the bullet broke, after passing right through his +brain; and there is his blood, all spattered on the mirror. And look, +young master, those spots on the table came from _her_ heart; and that +couch you was lying on, is where they laid her when they took her up. +See, it's all dabbled yet; and where your head was resting now, the +dead girl's head lay, more than a hundred years since! Come away, +master--come away! I never thought to have looked on these things, +though I know all about them." + +"Oh, tell me--tell me about them!" I exclaimed. "I am not a bit +afraid. Do tell me all about them." + +"Not now--not now--nor not here," said the old man, gazing about as if +he expected to see a spirit stalk out of some shady nook of the +surrounding trees. "I would not tell you here to be master of all +Ditton-in-the-Dale! But come up, if you will, to the great house +to-morrow, and ask for old Matthew Dawson, and I'll show you all the +place--the family never lives here now, nor hasn't since that deed was +done--and then I'll tell you all about it, if you must hear. But if +you're wise, you'll shun it; for it will chill your young blood to +listen, and cling to your young heart with a gloom forever." + +"Oh, I will come, be sure, Matthew! I would not miss it for the world. +But it is getting late, so I'll fasten up the old place, and be +going;" and suiting the action to the word, I soon secured the +fastenings, while the old gardener stood by, marvelling and muttering +at the boldness of young blood, until I had finished setting things in +order, when I shook hands with the old man, slipping my _one_ half +crown into his horny palm, and saying, + +"Well, good night, Matthew Dawson, and don't forget to-morrow +evening." + +"That I wont, master," he replied, greatly propitiated by my offering. +"But which way are you going?" + +"Oh, I'll soon show you," I replied; and swinging myself up my tree, I +was beyond the precincts of the haunted ground almost in a moment. + +"The very way _he_ came the time he did it," cried the old gardener, +with upturned hands, and eyes aghast. But I tarried then to ask no +further questions, being quite sufficiently terrified for one night; +although my pride forbade my displaying my terrors to the old rustic. + +The next day I was punctual to my appointment; and then, for the first +time, I heard the melancholy tale which, at length, I purpose to +relate. + +It was a proud and noble Norman family which had held the demesnes of +Ditton-in-the-Dale, since the reign of the last Plantagenet--a brave +and loyal race, which had poured its blood like water on many a +foreign, many a native battle-field. At Evesham, a Fitz-Henry had +fought beside Prince Edward's bridle-rein, against the great De +Montfort, and his confederate barons; and afterward through all the +long and cruel wars of the Roses, on every field a Fitz-Henry had won +honor or lost blood, upholding the claims of the true sovereign +house--the house of York--until at fatal Bosworth the house itself +went down, and dragged down with it the fortunes of its bold +supporters. + +Thereafter, during the reign of the Tudors, the name of Fitz-Henry was +heard rarely in the court, or on the field; impoverished in fortune by +fines and sequestrations, suspected of disloyalty to the now sovereign +house, the heads of the family had wisely held themselves aloof from +intrigue and conspiracy, and dwelt among their yeomen, who had in old +times been their fathers' vassals, stanch lovers of field-sports, true +English country gentlemen, seeking the favor and fearing the ill-will +of no man--no, not of England's king. + +Attached to the old religion, though neither bigots nor zealots, they +had escaped the violence of bluff Harry, when he turned Protestant for +Bullen's eyes; and had, though something to leeward of her favor, as +lukewarm Romanists and no lovers of the Spaniard, passed safely +through the ordeal of Mary's cruel reign. + +But with the accession of the man-minded Elizabeth, the fortunes of +the house revived for a while. It was the policy of that great and +gracious queen to gather around her all that were brave, honest, and +manly in her realm, without regard to family creeds, or family +traditions. Claiming descent as much from one as from the other of the +rival houses of Lancaster and York, loyalty to the one was no more +offence to her clear eyes than good faith to the other. While loyalty +to what he honestly believed to be the true sovereign house, was the +strongest recommendation to her favor in each and every subject. + +The Fitz-Henry, therefore, of her day, a young and gallant soldier, +who visited the shores of the New World with Cavendish and Raleigh, +fought for his native land, although a Catholic, against the terrible +armada of the Most Catholic King, with Drake, and Frobisher and +Howard, waged war in the Low Countries, and narrowly missed death at +Tutphen by Philip Sidney's side, stood as high in the favor of his +queen as in the estimation of all good and honorable men. It is true, +when the base and odious James succeeded to the throne of the +lion-queen, and substituted mean and loathsome king-craft for frank +and open English policy, the gray-haired soldier, navigator, +statesman--for he had shone in each capacity--retired, as his +ancestors had done before him, during the reigns of the seventh and +eighth Henrys, to the peaceful shades and innocent pleasures of +Ditton-in-the-Dale. + +So true, however, was he to the time-honored principles of his high +race, so loyally did he bring up his son, so firmly did he strengthen +his youthful mind with all maxims, and all laws of honor, linking the +loyal subject to the rightful king, that no sooner had the troubles +broken out between the misguided monarch and his rebellious +Parliament--although the veteran of Elizabeth had fallen asleep long +before, full of years and honors--than his young heir, Osborn +Fitz-Henry, displayed the cognizance of his old house, mustered his +tenantry, and set foot in stirrup, well nigh the first, to withdraw it +the very last, of the adherents of the hapless Charles. So long did he +resist in arms, so pertinaciously did he uphold the authority of the +first Charles, so early did he rise again in behalf of the second, +that he was noted by the Parliament as an incorrigible and most +desperate malignant; and, had it not been that, by his gallantry in +the field, and his humanity when the strife was ended, he had won the +personal good-will of Cromwell, it is most likely that it would have +gone hard with his fortunes if not with his life. + +After the restoration, he was of course neglected by the fiddling, +gambling, wenching, royal buffoon, who succeeded the royal martyr, and +whose necessities he had supplied, when an outcast pauper exile in a +foreign land, from the proceeds of those very estates which he had so +nearly lost in fighting for his crown. + +Osborn Fitz-Henry, too, was gathered to his fathers. He died little +advanced beyond the prime of life, worn out with the toil he had +undergone in the camp, and shattered by the wounds which he had +received on almost every battle-field from Edge-Hill to Dunbar and +Worcester. + +He had, however, married very young, before the breaking out of the +rebellion, and had lived to see not his son only a noble and superior +man, ready to fill his place when vacant, and in it uphold the honor +of his family, but his son's children also advancing fast toward +maturity. + +Allan Fitz-Henry, the son of Charles' stout partisan, the grandson of +Elizabeth's warrior, was the head of the house, when my tale +commences. + +He, too, had married young--such, indeed, was the custom of his +house--and had survived his wife, by whom he had two fair daughters, +but no heir; and this was a source of vexation so constantly present +to his mind, that in the end it altered the whole disposition of the +man, rendering him irritable, harsh, stern, unreasonable, and unhappy. + +Fondly attached to the memory of his lost wife, whom he had loved +devotedly while living, it never entered his mind to marry a second +time, even with the hope of begetting an heir by whom to perpetuate +the honors and principles of his house; although he was continually on +the fret--miserable himself, and making others miserable, in +consequence of the certainty that he should be the last of his race. + +His only hope was now centered in his daughters, or to speak more +correctly, in his eldest daughter--for her he had determined to +constitute his heiress, endowing her with all his landed property, all +his heirlooms, all that could constitute her the head of his house; in +return for which he had predetermined that she should become the wife +of some husband of his own choosing, who should unite to a pedigree +as noble as that of the Howards, all qualifications which should fit +him to represent the house into which he should be adopted; and who +should be willing to drop his own paternal name and bearings, how +ancient and noble soever, in order to adopt the style and the arms of +Fitz-Henry. + +Proud by nature, by blood, and by education--though with a clear and +honorable pride--he had been rendered a thousand times prouder and +more haughty by the very circumstances which seemed to threaten a +downfall to the fortunes of his house--his house, which had survived +such desperate reverses; which had come out of every trial, like pure +gold, the better and the brighter from the furnace--his house, which +neither the ruin of friendly monarchs, nor the persecutions of hostile +monarchs, nor the neglect of ungrateful monarchs, had been able to +shake, any more than the autumnal blasts, or the frosts of winter, had +availed to uproot the oak trees of his park, coeval with his name. + +In the midst of health and wealth, honor and good esteem, with an +affectionate family, and a devoted household around him, Allan +Fitz-Henry fancied himself a most unhappy man--perhaps the most +unhappy of mankind. + +Alas! was it to punish such vain, such sinful, such senseless, and +inordinate repinings? + +Who shall presume to scrutinize the judgments, or pry into the secrets +of the Inscrutable? + +This much alone is certain, that ere he was gathered to his fathers, +Allan Fitz-Henry might, and that not unjustly, have termed himself +that, which now, in the very wantonness of pampered and insatiate +success he swore that he was daily--the most unhappy of the sons of +men. + +For to calamities so dreadful as might have disturbed the reason of +the strongest minded, remorse was added, so just, so terrible, so +overwhelming, that men actually marveled how he lived on and was not +insane. + +But I must not anticipate. + +It was a short time after the failure of the Duke of Monmouth's weak +and ungrateful attempt at revolution, a short time after the +conclusion of the merciless and bloody butcheries of that disgrace to +the English ermine, the ferocious Jefferies, that the incidents +occurred, which I learned first on the evening subsequent to my +discovery in the fatal summer-house. + +At this time Allan Fitz-Henry--it was a singular proof, by the way, of +the hereditary pride of this old Norman race, that having numbered +among them so many friends and counsellors of monarchs, no one of +their number had been found willing to accept titular honors, holding +it a higher thing to be the premier gentleman than the junior peer of +England--At this time, I say, Allan Fitz-Henry was a man of some +forty-five or fifty years, well built and handsome, of courtly air and +dignified presence; nor must it be imagined that in his fancied +grievances he forgot to support the character of his family, or that +he carried his griefs abroad with him into the world. + +At times, indeed, he might be a little grave and thoughtful, +especially at such times as he heard mention made of the promise or +success of this or that scion of some noble house; but it was only +within his own family circle, and to his most familiar friends, that +he was wont to open his heart, and complain of his ill-fortune, at +being the first childless father of his race--for so, in his contempt +for the poor girls, whom he still, strange contradiction! loved fondly +and affectionately, he was accustomed in his dark hours to style +himself; as if forsooth an heir male were the only offspring worthy to +be called the child of such a house. + +Though he was fond, and gentle, and at times even tender to his +motherless daughters--for, to do him justice, he never suffered a +symptom of his disappointment and disgust to break out to their +annoyance, yet was there no gleam of paternal satisfaction in his sad +eye, no touch of paternal pride in his vexed heart, as he looked upon +their graceful forms, and noted their growing beauties. + +And yet they were a pair of whom the haughtiest potentate on earth +might have been proud, and with justice. + +Blanche and Agnes Fitz-Henry were at this time in their eighteenth and +seventeenth years--but one summer having passed between their births, +and their mother having died within a few hours after the latter saw +the light. + +They were, indeed, as lovely girls as the sun of merry England shone +upon; and in those days it was still _merry_ England, and famous then +as now for the rare beauty of its women, whether in the first dawn of +girlhood, or in the full-blown flush of feminine maturity. + +Both tall, above the middle height of women, both exquisitely formed, +with figures delicate and slender, yet full withal, and voluptuously +rounded, with the long taper hands, the small and shapely feet and +ankles, the swan-like necks, and classic heads gracefully set on, +which are held to denote, in all countries, the predominance of gentle +blood; when seen at a distance, and judged by the person only, it +would have been almost impossible to distinguish the elder from the +younger sister. + +But look upon them face to face, and never, in all respects, were two +girls of kindred race so entirely dissimilar. The elder, Blanche, was, +as her name denotes, though ladies' names are oftentimes misnomers, a +genuine English blonde. Her abundant and beautiful hair, trained to +float down upon her snowy shoulders in silky masses of unstudied +curls, was of the lightest golden brown. There was not a shade of red +in its hues, although her complexion was of that peculiarly dazzling +character which is common to red-haired persons; yet when the sun +shone on its glistening waves, so brilliantly did the golden light +flash from it, that you might almost have imagined there was a circlet +of living glory above her clear white brow. + +Her eyebrows and eyelashes were many shades darker than her hair, +relieving her face altogether from that charge of insipidity which is +so often, and for the most part so truly, brought against fair-haired +and fair-featured beauties. The eyes themselves, which those long +lashes shrouded, were of the deepest violet blue; so deep, that at +first sight you would have deemed them black, but for the soft and +humid languor which is never seen in eyes of that color. The rest of +her features were as near as possible to the Grecian model, except +that there was a slight depression where the nose joins the brow, +breaking that perfectly straight line of the classical face, which, +however beautiful to the statue, is less attractive in life than the +irregular outline of the northern countenance. + +Her mouth, with the exception of--perhaps I should rather say in +conjunction with--her eyes, was the most lovely and expressive feature +in her face. There were twin dimples at its corners; yet was not its +expression one of habitual mirth, but of tenderness and softness +rather, unmixed, although an anchorite might have been pardoned the +wish to press his lips to its voluptuous curve, with the slightest +expression of sensuality. + +Her complexion was, as I have said, dazzlingly brilliant; but it was +the brilliance of the lily rather than of the rose, though at the +least emotion, whether of pain or pleasure, the eloquent blood would +rush, like the morning's glow over some snow-crowned Alp, across +cheek, brow, and neck, and bosom, and vanish thence so rapidly, that +ere you should have time to say, nay, even to think, + + "Look! look how beautiful, 't was fled." + +Such was the elder beauty, the destined heiress of the ancient house, +the promised mother of a line of sons, who should perpetuate the name +and hand down the principles of the Fitz-Henries to far distant ages. +Such were the musings of her father, + + Proh! coeca mens mortalium! + +and at such times alone, if ever, a sort of doubtful pride would come +to swell his hope, whispering that for such a creature, no man, +however high or haughty, but would be willing to renounce the pride of +birth, even untempted by the demesnes of Ditton-in-the-Dale, and many +another lordly manor coupled to the time-honored name of Fitz-Henry. + +Her sister, Agnes, though not less beautiful than Blanche--and there +were those who insisted that she was more so--was as different from +her, in all but the general resemblance of figure and carriage, as +night is from morning, or autumn from early summer-time. + +Her ringlets, not less profuse than Blanche's, and clustering in +closer and more mazy curls, were as black as the raven's wing, and, +like the feathers of the wild bird, were lighted up when the sun +played on them with a sort of purplish and metallic gloss, that defies +alike the pen of the writer, and the painter's pencil to depict to the +eye. + +Her complexion, though soft and delicate, was of the very darkest hue +that is ever seen in persons of unmixed European blood; so dark that +the very blood which would mantle to her cheek at times in burning +blushes, was shaded, as it were, with a darker hue, like damask roses +seen through the medium of a gold-tinted window-pane. + +Her brows and lashes were as black as night, but, strange to say, the +eyes that flashed from beneath them with an almost painful splendor, +were of a clear, deep azure, less dark than those of the fairer +sister, giving a singular and wild character to her whole face, and +affecting the style of her beauty, but whether for the better or the +worse it was for those who admired or shunned--and there were who took +both parts--to determine. Her face was rounder and fuller than her +sister's, and, in fact, this was true of her whole person--so much so +that she was often mistaken for the elder--her features were less +regular, her nose having a slight tendency to that form which has no +name in our language, but which charmed all beholders in Roxana, as +_retroussie_. Her mouth was as warm, as soft, as sweetly dimpled, but +it was not free from that expression which Blanche's lacked +altogether, and might have been blamed as too wooing and luxurious. + +Such were the various characters of the sisters' personal +appearance--the characters of their mental attributes were as +distinctly marked, and as widely different. + +Blanche was all gentleness and moderation from her very cradle--a +delicate and tender child, smiling always, but rarely laughing; never +boisterous or loud even in her childish plays. And as she grew older, +this character became more definite, and was more strongly observed; +she was a pensive, tranquil creature, not melancholy, much less +sad--for she was awake to all that was beautiful or grand, all that +was sweet or gentle in the face of nature, or in the history of man; +and there was, perhaps, more real happiness concealed under her calm +exterior, than is often to be found under the wilder mirth of merrier +beings. Ever ready to yield her wishes to those of her friends or +companions, many persons imagined that she had little will, and no +fixed wishes, or deliberate aspirations--passionless and pure as the +lily of the vale, many supposed that she was cold and heartless. Oh! +ignorant! not to remember that the hearts of the fiercest volcanos +boil still beneath a head of snow; and that it is even in the calmest +and most moderate characters that passion once enkindled burns fierce, +perennial and unquenchable! Thus far, however, had she advanced into +the flower of fair maidenhood, undisturbed by any warmer dream than +devoted affection toward her parent, whose wayward grief she could +understand if she could not appreciate, and whom she strove by every +gentle wile to wean from his morbid fancies; and earnest love toward +her sister, whom she, indeed, almost adored--perhaps adored the more +from the very difference of their minds, and for her very +imperfections. + +For Agnes was all gay vivacity, and petulance, and fire--so that her +young companions, who sportively named Blanche the icicle, had +christened her the sunbeam; and, in truth, if the first name were ill +chosen, the second seemed to be an inspiration; for like a sunbeam +that touched nothing but to illuminate it, like a sunbeam she played +with all things, smiled on all things in their turn--like a sunbeam +she brought mirth with her presence, and after her departure, left a +double gloom behind her. + +More dazzling than Blanche, she made her impression at first sight, +and so long as the skies were clear, and the atmosphere unruffled, the +sunbeam would continue to gild, to charm, to be worshiped. But if the +time of darkness and affliction came, the gay sunbeam held aloof, +while the poor icicle, melted from its seeming coldness, was ever +ready to weep for the sorrows of those who had neglected her in the +days of their happiness. + +Unused to yield, high-spirited when crossed, yet carrying off even her +stubbornness and quick temper by the brilliancy, the wit, the lively +and bold audacity which she cast around them, Agnes ruled in her +circle an imperious and despotic queen; while her slaves, even as they +trembled before her half sportive but emphatic frown, did not suspect +the sceptre of the tyrant beneath the spell of the enchantress. + +Agnes, in one word, was the idol of the rich and gay; Blanche was the +saint of the poor, the lowly, the sick, and those who mourn. + +It may be that the peculiarity of her position, the neglect which she +had always experienced from her father, and mediately from the +hirelings of the household, ever prompt to pander to the worst +feelings of their superiors--the consciousness that born co-heiress +with her sister, she was doomed to sink into the insignificance of an +undowered and uncared-for girl, had tended in some degree to form the +character which Agnes had ever borne, and which alone she had +displayed, until the period when my tale commences. + +It may be that the consciousness of wrong endured, had hardened a +heart naturally soft and tender, and rendered it unyielding and +rebellious--it may be that injustice, endured at the hands of +hirelings in early years, had engendered a spirit of resistance, and +armed her mind and quickened her tongue against the world, which, as +she fancied, wronged her. It may be, more than all, that a secret, +perhaps an unconscious jealousy of her sister's superior advantages, +not in the wretched sense of worldly wealth or position, but of the +love and reverence of friends and kindred, had embittered her young +soul, and caused her to cast over it a veil of light and wild +demeanor, of free speech, and daring mirth, which had by degrees grown +into habits, and become part and parcel of her nature. + +If it were so, however, there were no outward indications that such +was the case; for never were there seen two sisters more united and +affectionate--nor would it have been easy to say on which side the +balance of kindness preponderated. For if Blanche was ever the first +to cede to her sister's wishes, and the last, in any momentary +disappointment or annoyance, to speak one quick or unkind word, so was +Agnes, with her expressive features, and flashing eye, and ready, +tameless wit, prompt as light to avenge the slightest reflection cast +on Blanche's tranquillity and coldness; and if at times a quick word +or sharp retort broke from her lips, and called a tear to the eye of +her calmer sister, not a moment would elapse before she would cast +herself upon her neck and weep her sincere contrition, and be for +hours an altered being; until her natural spirit would prevail, and +she would be again the wild, mirthful madcap, whose very faults could +call forth no keener reproach than a grave and thoughtful smile from +the lips of those who loved her the most dearly. + +Sad were the daughters of Allan Fitz-Henry--daughters whom not a peer +in England but would have regarded as the brightest gems of his +coronets, as the pride and ornament of his house; but whom, by a +strange anomaly, their own father, full as he was of warm affections, +and kindly inclinations, never looked upon but with a secret feeling +of discontent and disappointment, that they were not other than they +were: and with a half confessed conviction, that fair as they were, +tender, and loving, graceful, accomplished, delicate and noble-minded, +he could have borne to lay them both in the cold grave, so that a son +could be given to the house, in exchange for their lost loveliness. + +In outward demeanor, however, he was to his children all that a father +should be; a little querulous at times, perhaps, and irritable, but +fond, though not doting, and considerate; and I have wandered greatly +from my intention, if any thing that I have said has been construed to +signify that there existed the slightest estrangement between the +father and his children--for had Allan Fitz-Henry but suspected the +possibility of such a thing, he had torn the false pride, like a +venomous weed, from his heart, and had been a wiser and a happier man. +In his case it was the blindness of the heart that caused its partial +hardness; but events were at hand, that should flood it with the +clearest light, and melt it to more than woman's tenderness. + +[_To be continued._ + + + + +SONNET TO GRAHAM. + + +On, in thy mission! 'T is a holy power + That which thou wieldest o'er a people's heart: +And wastes of mind, that never knew a flower, + Bloom now and brighten, 'neath thy magic art. +Hearthstones are cheerful that were chill before; + And softened beams, like light that melteth through +The stained glass of old cathedrals, pour + Stream upon stream of beauty. All that's true, +All that is brave and beautiful, 't is thine-- + High office, high and holy! thus to shed, +Sun-like, and sole, in shadow or in shine, + Thoughts that bedew and rouse minds cold and dead, +Startling the pulse that stirred not. This is thine! +Be proudly humble: 't is a power divine! + + _New Orleans, October_ 1, 1847. ALTUS. + + + + +MARGINALIA + +BY EDGAR A. POE. + +We mere men of the world, with no principle--a very old-fashioned and +cumbersome thing--should be on our guard lest, fancying him on his +last legs, we insult, or otherwise maltreat some poor devil of a +genius at the very instant of his putting his foot on the top round of +his ladder of triumph. It is a common trick with these fellows, when +on the point of attaining some long-cherished end, to sink themselves +into the deepest possible abyss of seeming despair, for no other +purpose than that of increasing the space of success through which +they have made up their minds immediately to soar. + + * * * * * + +All that the man of genius demands for his exaltation is moral matter +in motion. It makes no difference _whither_ tends the motion--whether +for him or against him--and it is absolutely of _no_ consequence +"_what_ is the matter." + + * * * * * + +In Colton's "American Review" for October, 1845, a gentleman, well +known for his scholarship, has a forcible paper on "The Scotch School +of Philosophy and Criticism." But although the paper is "forcible," it +presents the most singular admixture of error and truth--the one +dovetailed into the other, after a fashion which is novel, to say the +least of it. Were I to designate in a few words what the whole article +demonstrated, I should say "the folly of not beginning at the +beginning--of neglecting the giant Moulineau's advice to his friend +Ram." Here is a passage from the essay in question: + + "The Doctors [Campbell and Johnson] both charge + Pope with error and inconsistency:--error in + supposing that _in English_, of metrical lines + unequal in the number of syllables and pronounced + in equal times, the longer suggests celerity (this + being the principle of the + Alexandrine:)--inconsistency, in that Pope himself + uses the same contrivance to convey the contrary + idea of slowness. But why in English? It is not and + cannot be disputed that, in the Hexameter verse of + the Greeks and Latins--which is the model in this + matter--what is distinguished as the 'dactylic + line' was uniformly applied to express velocity. + How was it to do so? Simply from the fact of being + pronounced in an equal time with, while containing + a greater number of syllables or 'bars' than the + ordinary or average measure; as, on the other hand, + the spondaic line, composed of the minimum number, + was, upon the same principle, used to indicate + slowness. So, too, of the Alexandrine in English + versification. No, says Campbell, there is a + difference: the Alexandrine is not in fact, like + the dactylic line, pronounced in the common time. + But does this alter the principle? What is the + rationale of Metre, whether the classical hexameter + or the English heroic?" + +I have written an essay on the "Rationale of Verse," in which the +whole topic is surveyed _ab initio_, and with reference to general and +immutable principles. To this essay (which will soon appear) I refer +Mr. Bristed. In the meantime, without troubling myself to ascertain +whether Doctors Johnson and Campbell are wrong, or whether Pope is +wrong, or whether the reviewer is right or wrong, at this point or at +that, let me succinctly state what is _the truth_ on the topics at +issue. + +And first; the same principles, in _all_ cases, govern _all_ verse. +What is true in English is true in Greek. + +Secondly; in a series of lines, if one line contains more syllables +than the law of the verse demands, and if, nevertheless, this line is +pronounced in the same time, upon the whole, as the rest of the lines, +then this line suggests celerity--on account of the increased rapidity +of enunciation required. Thus in the Greek Hexameter the dactylic +lines--those most abounding in dactyls--serve best to convey the idea +of rapid motion. The spondaic lines convey that of slowness. + +Thirdly; it is a gross mistake to suppose that the Greek dactylic +line is 'the model in this matter'--the matter of the English +Alexandrine. The Greek dactylic line is of the same number of +feet--bars--beats--pulsations--as the ordinary dactylic-spondaic lines +among which it occurs. But the Alexandrine is longer by one foot--by +one pulsation--than the pentameters among which it arises. For its +pronunciation it demands _more time_, and therefore, _ceteris +paribus_, it would well serve to convey the impression of length, or +duration, and thus, indirectly, of slowness. I say _ceteris paribus_. +But, by varying conditions, we can effect a total change in the +impression conveyed. When the idea of slowness is conveyed by the +Alexandrine, it is not conveyed by any slower enunciation of +syllables--that is to say, it is not _directly_ conveyed--but +indirectly, through the idea of _length_ in the whole line. Now, if we +wish to convey, by means of an Alexandrine, the impression of +velocity, we readily do so by giving rapidity to our enunciation of +the syllables composing the several feet. To effect this, however, we +must have _more_ syllables, or we shall get through the whole line too +quickly for the intended time. To get more syllables, all we have to +do, is to use, in place of iambuses, what our prosodies call +anapoests.[1] Thus, in the line, + + Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main, + +the syllables '_the unbend_' form an anapoest and, demanding unusual +rapidity of enunciation, in order that we may get them in in the +ordinary time of an iambus, serve to suggest celerity. By the elision +of _e_ in _the_, as is customary, the whole of the intended effect is +lost; for _th'unbend_ is nothing more than the usual iambus. In a +word, wherever an Alexandrine expresses celerity, we shall find it to +contain one or more anapoests--the more anapoests, the more decided +the impression. But the tendency of the Alexandrine consisting merely +of the usual iambuses, is to convey slowness--although it conveys this +idea feebly, on account of conveying it indirectly. It follows, from +what I have said, that the common pentameter, interspersed with +anapoests, would better convey celerity than the Alexandrine +interspersed with them in a similar degree;--and it unquestionably +does. + +[Footnote 1: I use the prosodial word "anapoest," merely because here +I have no space to show what the reviewer will admit I have distinctly +shown in the essay referred to--viz: that the additional syllable +introduced, does _not_ make the foot an anapoest, or the equivalent of +an anapoest, and that, if it did, it would spoil the line. On this +topic, and on all topics connected with verse, there is not a prosody +in existence which is not a mere jumble of the grossest error.] + + + * * * * * + +To converse well, we need the cool tact of talent--to talk well, the +glowing _abandon_ of genius. Men of _very_ high genius, however, talk +at one time _very_ well, at another _very_ ill:--well, when they have +full time, full scope, and a sympathetic listener:--ill, when they fear +interruption and are annoyed by the impossibility of exhausting the topic +during that particular talk. The partial genius is flashy--scrappy. The +true genius shudders at incompleteness--imperfection--and usually +prefers silence to saying the something which is not every thing that +should be said. He is so filled with his theme that he is dumb, first +from not knowing how to begin, where there seems eternally beginning +behind beginning, and secondly from perceiving his true end at so +infinite a distance. Sometimes, dashing into a subject, he blunders, +hesitates, stops short, sticks fast, and, because he has been +overwhelmed by the rush and multiplicity of his thoughts, his hearers +sneer at his inability to think. Such a man finds his proper element +in those "great occasions" which confound and prostrate the general +intellect. + +Nevertheless, by his conversation, the influence of the +conversationist upon mankind in general, is more decided than that of +the talker by his talk:--the latter invariably talks to best purpose +with his pen. And good conversationists are more rare than respectable +talkers. I know many of the latter; and of the former only five or +six:--among whom I can call to mind, just now, Mr. Willis, Mr. J. T. +S. S.--of Philadelphia, Mr. W. M. R.--of Petersburg, Va., and Mrs. +S----d, formerly of New York. Most people, in conversing, force us to +curse our stars that our lot was not cast among the African nation +mentioned by Eudoxus--the savages who, having no mouths, never opened +them, as a matter of course. And yet, if denied mouth, some persons +whom I have in my eye would contrive to chatter on still--as they do +now--through the nose. + + * * * * * + + All in a hot and copper sky + The bloody sun at noon + Just up above the mast did stand, + No bigger than the moon.--COLERIDGE. + +Is it possible that the poet did not know the apparent diameter of the +moon to be greater than that of the sun? + +If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize, at one effort, the +universal world of human thought, human opinion, and human sentiment, +the opportunity is his own--the road to immortal renown lies straight, +open, and unencumbered before him. All that he has to do is to write +and publish a very little book. Its title should be simple--a few +plain words--"My Heart Laid Bare." But--this little book must be _true +to its title_. + +Now, is it not very singular that, with the rabid thirst for notoriety +which distinguishes so many of mankind--so many, too, who care not a +fig what is thought of them after death, there should not be found one +man having sufficient hardihood to write this little book? To _write_, +I say. There are ten thousand men who, if the book were once written, +would laugh at the notion of being disturbed by its publication during +their life, and who could not even conceive _why_ they should object +to its being published after their death. But to write it--_there_ is +the rub. No man dare write it. No man ever will dare write it. No man +_could_ write it, even if he dared. The paper would shrivel and blaze +at every touch of the fiery pen. + + * * * * * + + For all the rhetorician's rules + Teach nothing but to name the tools.--HUDIBRAS. + +What these oft-quoted lines go to show is, that a falsity in verse +will travel faster and endure longer than a falsity in prose. The man +who would sneer or stare at a silly proposition nakedly put, will +admit that "there is a good deal in that" when "_that_" is the point +of an epigram shot into the ear. The rhetorician's rules--if they +_are_ rules--teach him not only to name his tools, but to use his +tools, the capacity of his tools--their extent--their limit; and from +an examination of the nature of the tools--(an examination forced on +him by their constant presence)--force him, also, into scrutiny and +comprehension of the material on which the tools are employed, and +thus, finally, suggest and give birth to new material for new tools. + + * * * * * + +Among his _eidola_ of the den, the tribe, the forum, the theatre, +etc., Bacon might well have placed the great _eidolon_ of the parlor +(or of the wit, as I have termed it in one of the previous +Marginalia)--the idol whose worship blinds man to truth by dazzling +him with the _apposite_. But what title could have been invented for +_that_ idol which has propagated, perhaps, more of gross error than +all combined?--the one, I mean, which demands from its votaries that +they reciprocate cause and effect--reason in a circle--lift themselves +from the ground by pulling up their pantaloons--and carry themselves +on their own heads, in hand-baskets, from Beersheba to Dan. + +All--absolutely all the argumentation which I have seen on the nature +of the soul, or of the Deity, seems to me nothing but worship of this +unnameable idol. _Pour savoir ce qu'est Dieu_, says Bielfeld, although +nobody listens to the solemn truth, _il faut etre Dieu meme_--and to +reason about the reason is of all things the most unreasonable. At +least, he alone is fit to discuss the topic who perceives at a glance +the insanity of its discussion. + + + + +THE PENANCE OF ROLAND. + +A ROMANCE OF THE PEINE FORTE ET DURE. + +BY HENRY B. HIRST. + +PART I. + + +When the weird and wizard bats were flitting round his dusky way, +Over a moorland, like a whirlwind, rushed the knight, Sir Roland Grey; +When the crimson sun was setting, as the yellow moon arose, +Far and faint, behind Sir Roland, sank the slogan of his foes-- + +Far and faint; and growing fainter as he reached the forest sward, +Spreading round for many an acre over the lands which owned him lord. +As he dashed along the woodland, fitfully, upon the breeze, +Swept the tu-who-o of the owlet through the naked forest trees; + +And the loudly whirring black-cock through the creaking branches sprung, +Frightened by his horse's hoofs, that like the Cyclop's anvil rung-- +Like a hurricane on he hurried, wood and valley gliding past, +While around him, o'er him, on him, burst the sudden autumn blast. + +Down upon him, in a deluge, rushed the cold November rain; +But the wind about him whistled, and the tempest swept in vain. +What to him was wind or tempest, when his brain was seared with flame? +What to him was earth or heaven, when his soul was sick with shame? + +In the dreary, desolate desert on his ears had burst a tale, +That, like falling thunder, stunned and left him terrified and pale; +How, while he was battling bravely, like a true and holy knight, +For the sacred tomb of Christ, against the swarthy Moslemite; + +How, while round him lances shivered, armor rang, and arrows fell, +And the air was mad with noises--Arab shout and Paynim yell-- +She, the partner of his heart, descended (so the legend said) +From the ancient Saxon monarchs, sank in shame her sunny head. + +From his friends--his growing glory--over dark and dangerous seas-- +From his red-cross banner proudly flowing, floating on the breeze-- +Over field and flood he traveled, flinging fame and honor by, +With a heart as full of hell as full of glory was the sky. + +All his mind became a chaos; but along its waste there stole +What his bloody purpose shook, and what was manna to his soul,-- +Memories of his youthful moments, when through grassy glen and wood +He wandered with the Lady Gwineth, dreaming none so fair and good; + +And he saw her sweetly smiling, as when at her feet he knelt, +And with bold but modest manner on his burning passion dwelt-- +Felt her fall upon his bosom--felt her tears upon his cheek, +As he felt them when his tongue was all too full of joy to speak! + +And his heart was slowly softening--when a hoarse voice bade him "yield!" +And a claymore clanked and clattered on the bosses of his shield;-- +Rising round him, closing on him, sprang an ambush of his foe, +The despoiler of his honor! All his answer was a blow! + +All his soul was in his arm; and, as his foemen closed around, +Vassal after vassal, wounded, yelling, fell and bit the ground; +But when through the wood there rushed an hundred thronging to the fight, +Charging through them, still defying, Roland safety sought in flight. + +When the crimson sun descended, as the yellow moon arose, +Far and faint behind Sir Roland sank the slogan of his foes-- +Far and faint, and waxing fainter, as he reached the forest sward, +Spreading round for many an acre, over the lands that owned him lord. + +Like a whirlwind on he hurried, though the storm was raging sore: +In his heart he carried torture: there was music in its roar-- +Like a hurricane on he hurried, spurring on with loosened rein, +Till he checked his jaded courser on his old paternal plain. + +Clouds were scudding o'er the heavens; wild the tempest roared around; +And the very earth was shaking with the thunder's heavy sound; +But between the lightning flashes, frowning grimly, here and there, +Loomed his old ancestral castle, with its old ancestral air. + +There, the barbican--the draw-bridge--there, the ancient donjon-keep, +With its iron-banded portals--there, the moat in sullen sleep!-- +Galloping onward, lo! he halted, for they kept strict watch and ward, +And his courser's clanking hoofs had roused the ever-wary guard. + +Loud above the increasing tempest rose the warder's threatening hail; +Louder rose the ringing answer from a lip that scorned to quail: +"Grey of Grey!" the warrior thundered, "he who fears nor bolt nor dart-- +He who is your master, vassal--Roland of the Lion Heart!" + +Clanking, clattering, grating, slowly up the huge portcullis went, +And the draw-bridge over the moat creaking, shrieking, downward bent; +On his armor flashed the torch-light, over helmet, cuirass, shield, +With its _lion d' or couchant_ upon a stainless _argent_ field. + +Over rode he, frowning fiercely, throwing from him ruddy light, +Flashing, like a burning beacon, on his startled vassal's sight. +Rose the draw-bridge, fell the barrier, closed the oaken gates behind. +--All was silence save the roaring of the wild November wind. + + +PART II. + + +In a lofty vaulted chamber, pillared, Gothic, full of gloom, +But that flashes of the fire-light fitfully fell athwart the room-- +Ruddy gleams of fading fire-light, lighting many a bearded face, +On the fluted hangings woven--founders of her husband's race-- + +On a carven couch in slumber lay the Lady Gwineth Grey, +Traces of a smile yet lingering on a cheek of rosy May-- +On the softest velvet slumbering, in a mist of golden hair, +Trembling on her heaving bosom, and along her neck as fair. + +Seemed she like the Goddess Dian sleeping in some lonely wood, +Or a nun on convent pallet dreaming only what was good: +By her stood an outened flambeaux, from which, blue, and thin, and rare, +Stole a wave of trembling vapor, slowly melting into air. + +But the tapestry was lifted, and a form in steel array +Suddenly entered, and his coming drove the waning mist away. +Treading softly o'er the rushes Roland stept beside his bride, +In the passing of a moment standing at her couch's side. + +Like an angel seemed the lady, lying in her rosy rest; +Like a devil seemed the knight, with passion raging in his breast: +For within his bosom, gnawing all his heart with teeth of fire, +Reigned Revenge, and on his forehead burned the purple hue of ire. + +Slowly bending o'er his wife, but making not a sound, he gazed +Upon her, while his glaring eye-balls, like twin torches, brightly blazed. +--Starting, feeling one was near her, Gwineth raised her golden head, +Looking round her--flashed his falchion, and she sank in silence--dead! + +Roared the tempest; crashed the thunder; even the castle seemed to quail +And tremble, like a living thing, before the fury of the gale; +But the fierce and fearless murderer turned to where his child reclined, +Asleep, amid the thunder's crash, the rushing rain and roaring wind. + +As he bent above his boy, dim memories of days long back +Came, like stars an instant seen amid the autumn tempest's rack; +But as swiftly over his spirit flashed the ruin of his name-- +Flashed the withering thought that even that child might be the child + of shame. + +Wildly then he raised his glaive, but wilder, sterner, still, without, +Swelled the tempest, burst the thunder, yelled the winds with maniac shout; +While the lightning, red and vivid, quivered through the skies in ire, +Till the chamber with its flashes seemed a blazing hall of fire. + +With this climax of the tempest--thunder, lightning, rain and wind-- +Roland felt an awful doubt creep tremblingly athwart his mind; +Slowly, slowly, it arose, and grew gigantic; slowly, slowly, +Cloud-like, overshadowing him, darkening his spirit wholly. + +Then, like Saul of Eld, he trembled, feeling his deed was one of guilt-- +Believing heaven itself asserted it was innocent blood he spilt-- +Feeling heaven was interfering, sank his heart, and fell his blade, +And the superstitious murderer tottered, wailing and dismayed. + +"Be she spotless," groaned the warrior, "I have done a grievous crime-- +Stained the snowiest shield that ever graced the temple-walls of Time. +--Thou, my noblest and my fairest! with thy mother's Saxon eye-- +Shall my hand, too, strike thee lifeless? No! I cannot see thee die!" + +Suddenly Roland saw the peril hanging over his guilty head-- +Felt that he could never hide him from the vengeance of the dead-- +Saw the heartless headsman smiling, and the axe, and heard the crowd +Shouting curses on the assassin--and the chieftain groaned aloud-- + +Groaned, for that his deed had robbed him of a home and of a name, +Hurling on his orphan son the damning heritage of shame: +Life and lands by law were forfeit; he had driven his offspring forth, +Rudely, ruthlessly, to wander, one of the Ishmaelites of earth. + +But a sudden thought came o'er him, and his lofty eye again +Flashed with resolution, stern and strong as was his spirit's pain. +"Shall I rob thee of thy birthright--rob thee of thy noble name, +Of our old ancestral castle, and our fathers' deeds of fame? + +"Shall I fling thee forth to struggle with a never-sparing world; +Knowing every eye will scorn thee, every lip at thee be curled? +Know thee, budding bloom of beauty, withering in thy youth away-- +Feel thy infant promise fading--see thy falcon-eye decay? + +"Did I give thee life to cloud it--life to poison every breath? +Better far the dreary dungeon, and the dark and iron death! +Never! Let them heap upon me rock on rock Olympus high; +None shall see a sinew quiver, none shall hear the slightest cry. + +"'Blood for blood' is rightly written: I have slain a spotless wife, +And will dree a heavy penance--yield the law my forfeit life; +Come the judgment, I will meet it; and the torture shall not tear +Word from me to make a beggar of my rightful, righteous heir." + +As the stricken knight was speaking, in the distance died the storm; +And the moonlight on the casement wandered sweetly, rested warm; +Through the golden glass it floated, fluttering over the lady's hair, +Till she seemed a mild Madonna, watched by angels, slumbering there. + +Shaken by the storm of conscience, Roland sank upon his knee, +Sudden as before a hurricane falls some famous forest tree; +Sank beside pale, placid Gwineth, weeping, wailing, sorrow riven, +Feeling God had spoken, praying that his crime might be forgiven. + +All that long and dreary night, Sir Roland watched beside the dead, +Humbly kneeling in the rushes strown around the carven bed. +Slowly, quietly approaching came the gray-eyed dreamy dawn, +Making every thing about him seem more desolate and wan. + +One by one the stars went out, and slowly over the Orient came +Streaks of rose and tints of purple, flakes of gold and rays of flame, +And around the ancient castle Roland heard the hum of those +That from quiet sleep were waking, as they, one by one, arose. + +Slowly through the painted casement, touching first the chamber crown +And the groined roof, the sunlight stole in lovely lustre down +Over the tapestry, that glistened, gleaming with its golden ray, +Till it kissed the russet rushes where in yellow sleep it lay. + +Came the Lady Gwineth's maidens, starting at the sudden sight +Of their lord, Sir Roland, standing like a warrior for the fight; +But he waved them on; and, wondering, they unto the sleeper went-- +Shrieking loudly, shrieking wildly as above her corpse they bent. + +Startled by the sudden clamor, Roland's son in fright awoke, +As from all sides, madly rushing in the room, the vassals broke; +Gathering round him, gazing on him, looking on the bloody brand +And the lady, who, when living, was the loveliest in the land. + +Not a word the warrior uttered, though his son implored him sore, +And they led him like an infant toward the oaken chamber-door; +There he turned and gazed on Gwineth, looking on her face his last; +Then between his guards in silence to the castle-prison passed. + +There they left him; but at mid-day came, and, beckoning, bade him forth +To journey, not as he was wont to, from his ancient honored hearth: +To an armed guard they gave him, and amid their stern array, +Haughty, lofty-souled and silent Roland sternly rode away. + + +PART III. + + +When the gathering gloom of night in swarthy shadows floated down +On the mountain and the forest, Roland saw the distant town: +O'er its walls, and round its towers, a dim and sickly lustre lay. +Like the gray and ghostly haze that heraldeth the dawning day. + +While, behind those walls and turrets, standing blackly in her light, +Full and large the lurid moon rose ghastily upon the night; +Shrouded in a cloud of crimson, slowly, slowly as he came +Rising higher, higher, higher, till the east was full of flame. + +As his guards approached the gates--did she sink or did they rise? +Behind the black gigantic towers the planet vanished from his eyes. +All without was solemn blackness, but within was drearier dark, +Save when from some grim old building stole a taper's trembling spark. + +Slowly through the lengthy streets, between old houses, rising high, +Over which, dark, dusk, sepulchral, bent the purple pall-like sky, +Through the town they bore him on, until frowningly, at last, +Rose the castle-walls before them, huge and massy, broad and vast. + +With a last look on the heavens, the knight rode on beneath the gate: +Stepping from his steed he bowed him, stately, to his fearful fate: +On his limbs they fastened fetters, cold! how cold! their chillness ran +Freezing through his blood, the spirit of the stern, unconquered man. + +Through a gallery they led him to a dark and dismal cell. +Where they left him. Sad and solemn, heavy, awful as a knell, +Seemed the fading of their footsteps, as he heard them slowly glide +Through the long and vaulted corridor till their very echo died. + +Days went by--days dark with anguish, for his conscience, like a spur, +Drove him o'er the wastes of memory which were never black before; +Weeks slid by, and months--such months! such bitter months of pungent pain, +That their very hours seemed serpents gnawing at his heart and brain. + +Next they led him forth to trial: like a child he bowed and went, +With his once black hair like snow, and his stalwart form so bent, +And his beard so long and white, and his cheek so thin and wan, +Even his very keepers thought it was a ghost they gazed upon! + +When before his ermined judges, stately, silent, Roland came, +Over his cheek there flashed and faded, suddenly, a flash of flame: +Like a falling star it faded: lofty and erect he turned, +With the feeling that aroused it under his iron Will inurned. + +"Roland, Baron Grey!" the crier, in the ancient Latin tongue, +Which, like some old bell in tolling, through the vaulted building rung:-- +Cold and stern the prisoner answered--cold and stern--devoid of fear-- +Looking haughtily around him:--"Roland, Baron Grey, is here!" + +Muttering the solemn charge, they bade him answer; but he stood +Cold, and calm, and motionless, as though he were nor flesh nor blood, +But, rather, all a bronzed statue of the proud, primeval time-- +In his silence self-devoted--in his very guilt sublime. + +Thrice they prayed him: while he listened, not a quiver on his brow, +Not the movement of a hair upon his head or beard of snow, +Not the motion of a lip, nor even the flutter of an eye, +Betokening that he even heard them--he was there alone to die. + +In the distant, dreary years, so run the legends even now-- +Misty legends on whose summits slumber centuries of snow-- +Lofty legends round whose summits clouds have lain for solemn ages-- +Legends penned with iron pens in blood by Draco-minded sages-- + +It was written, they should bear him to a dungeon under ground, +Far beneath the castle moat, where came no single human sound, +And unto the earth should chain him, naked, on the icy ground-- +Naked, like the sage Prometheus, on the mountain's summit bound. + +Water--there was none for him, save that which flowed in the castle moat, +On whose green and slimy surface newts and mosses loved to float-- +Bread--a crust a day--so, starving, freezing, there the Doomed was spread, +Pressed with weights of stone and iron till he answered or was dead. + +Did he answer guiltless, lo! the trial; guilty, lo! the axe; +Death before the grinning thousand! worse than were a myriad racks! +While the trial were an evil quite as grievous, quite as great, +For the verdict of his peers would rend from him his proud estate: + +But, if he died silent, then his lands would pass in quiet down +To bless his boy, his innocent boy, and not escheat unto the crown: +So he chose the darksome dungeon, rather there to die alone +Than by cowardly fear to steal the birthright of his orphan son. + +But, beside this, came the thought that, by this penance he might win +Forgiveness from offended Heaven for his now-repented sin. +"Noble Roland," quoth his judges, "answer, ere it be too late; +Heavy, else, must be our judgment--heavier thine awful fate." + +Then arose the ghostly knight, with his spectral eyes aflame, +While a more than mortal vigor coursed and circled through his frame; +And he gazed upon them smiling, and like hollow thunder broke +His accents on the swarthy silence:--thus and so the chieftain spoke: + +"Lords! I answer not. If guilty, God will judge my sinful soul: +For my body--that is yours! I yield it to your stern control. +Would you have me--me, a warrior, like a coward plead for life? +Death and I are old acquaintance! I have met him in the strife-- + +"I have met him when the air was swooning with a ghastly fear; +When the Moslem swept before us, driven like a herd of deer; +When our voices mocked the thunder, shouting 'England and Saint George!' +And the lightning of our falchions fell like flashes from a forge! + +"There, amid the clash and clang of sword and shield, I strove with Death-- +That I conquered, ye may see; and now I yield to him my breath +Where there is no rescue, yield! and, as one would call a bride, +So I bid the grisly monarch smilingly unto my side. + +"Shall I yield my broad estates, my castles and my manor lands, +To the harpies of the law, to hold them with unhallowed hands? +Shall I send my youthful heir forth with a stain upon his crest? +No! my eaglet yet shall reign an eagle in his parent nest. + +"Lords and judges, I have done: no further words shall pass my lips, +Save prayers to Heaven, that my soul may, sun-like, rise from death's + eclipse." +Silently, he braved them still; and, sighing, sad, and full of gloom, +His judges sent him forth to struggle with the sharp and lingering doom. + +Did he tremble at their sentence? Not a muscle quivered, not +A sign to mark he heard, save on his cheek one purple spot: +Statelier yet than ever, firmer, with a long triumphant breath, +Roland, smiling on his judges, sternly walked to certain death. + + +PART IV. + + +In his cell the knight is lying, naked, fettered foot and hand; +Bound unto the rocky ground with many an iron link and band; +On him lie the piles of granite, pressing, pressing; yet he still +Looks on death with lofty eye--so giant is his mighty will. + +Day by day, he lay and suffered, wrung with agony, but content-- +Day by day, though hard to bear was his grievous punishment-- +Never once, though, hour on hour, they piled the jagged granite higher +On his quivering limbs, he murmured; yet his very veins were fire. + +Once, however, came his jailer, saying that his nephew sought +His presence; and the knight, consenting, in his brother's son was brought: +"Uncle Roland," quoth he, weeping, "what is this that I have done? +Curses, curses on my head! curse, uncle, curse thy brother's son! + +Mine the tongue that wrought this evil--mine the false and slanderous + tongue +That done to death the Lady Gwineth--O! my soul is sadly wrung!" +"Demon, devil!" groaned the warrior--"devil of the evil eye! +Look upon the awful horror wrought by thy atrocious lie. + +Tell me? was it all a falsehood? Tell me, was it all--all--all? +Speak! and let these prison walls, oppressed with horror, on thee fall!" +"All was false! Mine, too the ambush; for I sought to grasp thy lands-- +Sought to win the Lady Gwineth, with thy blood upon my hands. + +But she drove me forth with scorn; and then I coined the lying tale-- +O! forgive me, Uncle Roland! give me leave to weep and wail; +Give me leave to sit in sackcloth, heaping ashes on my head; +Mourning in some craggy cavern for the early lost and dead." + +"Unexampled liar and traitor! first of all our noble name +Guilty of so black a treason! first to stain our shield with shame! +Hence! away! I--No! repent! begone! and pray for my repose: +Life on both of us too soon for our grievous crimes will close. + +I forgive thee--now away--nay, do not touch me! I am wan-- +Sick with suffering--mad with anguish--Go!" The penitent man is gone. +--Once again he lies alone, save his agony, alone; +Then they come and pile upon him heavier weights of iron and stone. + +Still more pallid, at the even, Roland in his anguish lay, +Wrestling, for his soul was strong, with his body's slow decay; +And the sweat upon his forehead stood and rolled and fell like rain, +Cold, while pain and fire and fever battled in his heart and brain. + +Now and then his senses wandered; now again his mind was calm, +And he wrung from out his suffering penitential draughts of balm; +Then again his senses left him, and he lay in phrenzy there, +Talking wildly in his madness with the dim, impalpable air. + +Now, he saw the Lady Gwineth wandering in her maiden joy; +Now, he viewed her in her chamber frolic with her baby boy; +Now, he saw her sadly lying, all her bosom bathed with blood; +And beheld himself as o'er her on that fatal night he stood. + +Was he dreaming? through his dungeon stole a pale purpureal light, +Flowing round him, floating round him, making daylight of its night; +In its midst, his gentle Gwineth, while around her brow there flowed, +Fluttering flame, a golden halo! that with heavenly glory glowed. + +Did he hear her? Was it real? With an angel's voice she spoke: +How the words, like flakes of music, silver music! sweetly broke, +Round and round him! how they floated, ringing in his ravished ears, +Like the notes of Memnon's lyre, or chantings from the distant spheres! + +"Coming, Roland, from that heaven where, though clad with light, I sigh +And languish for the softer lustre of thy gentle loving eye, +I await thee, singing, singing hymns to cheer thy dying hour +That the Cherubim sang in Eden when it first arose in flower. + +Hearken! how my notes are mingling--one by one, and two by two, +Dropping on thy brain as falls on fading roses freshening dew; +Three by three, they upward circle: thou hast heard them in thy dreams, +When I came, a missioned spirit, from the four eternal streams. + +I can see them, though thine eyes can only compass earthly vision: +Soon, O, Roland! soon, O, Roland! thou shalt see with eyes elysian: +Then the notes that now thou hearest thou shalt see, as on they flow,-- +Angels that are rarest air! and view them through their dances go." + +Still, entranced, the sufferer listened; and it seemed as from his pain +Sweeter music yet was born, for holier hymning lulled his brain; +Very wild his agony; very; but between its bars his eyes +Saw the angels as they wandered on the walls of Paradise. + +Faint and fainter grew he, while the melody loud and louder rang, +Till it seemed not only Gwineth but a myriad angels sang; +And his soul seemed rising, rising, rising from his pallid clay, +Which, each moment, grew more feeble--faintlier wrestling with decay. + +Burst upon his ears one swell! it seemed an anthem of the spheres, +Jubilant, divinely ringing; swam his eyes with happy tears-- +"Come, forgiven one," the cadence, "chastened spirit, come, arise +From thine earthly prison-house to holy homes beyond the skies." + +Fainter, fainter, still more feeble, grew the sufferer as he heard, +And a sigh swooned on the silence, soft as breathing of a bird,-- +And all was over. In his trance his spirit's sparkling feet had trod +The realms of space, and gone from earth, through air, to judgment and + to God. + + +NOTES. + + +The judgment of the _peine forte et dure_, on an instance of which our +ballad is founded, was well known in the ancient law of England. As +has been seen, it was terribly severe. The circumstances of the +judgment were as follows: When a prisoner stood charged with an +offence, and an indictment had been found against him, before he could +be tried he was called upon to answer, or, in technical parlance, to +plead. A plea in bar is an answer, either affirming or denying the +offence charged in the indictment, or, if of a dilatory character, +showing some ground why the defendant should not be called upon to +answer at all. In those days, in all capital cases, the estates of the +criminal, on conviction and judgment, were forfeited to the crown. The +blood of the offender was considered as corrupted, and, as a +consequence, his property could not pass to his family, who, although +innocent, suffered for the faults of the criminal. Crimes, therefore, +where the punishment fell, not only on the criminal but on his family, +were comparatively of rare occurrence. An admission of guilt produced +the same effect as a conviction. If the defendant, however, stood +mute, obstinately refusing to answer, by which behaviour he preserved +his estates to his family, he was sentenced to undergo the judgment of +the _peine forte et dure_. + +"The English judgment of penance for standing mute," says Chief +Justice Blackstone, in his admirable Commentaries, "was as follows: +That the prisoner be remanded to the prison from whence he came, and +put into a low, dark chamber; and there be laid on his back, naked, +unless where decency forbids: that there be placed upon his body as +great a weight of iron as he could bear and more; that he have no +sustenance, save only on the first day, three morsels of the worst +bread; and, on the second day, three draughts of standing water, that +should be nearest to the prison door; and in this situation this +should be alternately his daily diet _till he died_, or (as anciently +the judgement ran) _till he answered_." + +With respect to this horrid judgment, Christian, in his notes to the +same work, goes on to say: that "the prosecutor and the court could +exercise no discretion, or show no favour to a prisoner who stood +obstinately mute." "In the legal history of this country," (England,) +he continues, "are numerous instances of persons who have had +resolution and patience to undergo so terrible a death in order to +benefit their heirs by preventing a forfeiture of their estates, which +would have been a consequence of a conviction by a verdict. There is a +memorable story of an ancestor of an ancient family in the north of +England. In a fit of jealousy he killed his wife; and put to death his +children who were at home, by throwing them from the battlements of +his castle; and proceeding with an intent to destroy his only +remaining child, an infant nursed at a farm-house at some distance, he +was intercepted by a storm of thunder and lightning. This awakened in +his breast compunction of conscience. He desisted from his purpose, +and having surrendered himself to justice, in order to secure his +estates to this child, he had the resolution to die under the dreadful +judgment of the _peine forte et dure_." This tale is the base of our +romance. + + + + +THE SEA NYMPH'S SONG. + +BY WILLIAM H. C. HOSMER. + + + Sound is he sleeping + Far under the wave-- + Sea nymphs are keeping + A watch for the brave: + Deep was our grief and wild-- + Wilder our dirge + When the doomed ocean child + Drowned in the surge. + + Within a bright chamber + His form we have laid; + With spar, pearl and amber + The walls are arrayed-- + Though high rolls the billow + He wakes not at morn, + And sponge for his pillow + From rocks we have torn. + + I heard thy name spoken + When down came the mast; + His hold was then broken, + That _word_ was his last. + A picture is lying, + Lorn maid! on his breast-- + That picture in dying + His hand closely prest. + + Why turns thy cheek paler + These tidings to know? + The truth of thy sailor + Should lessen thy wo: + The wave could not chill it + That stifled his breath; + Pure _love_--can aught kill it? + Give answer, Oh, Death! + + + + +THE LITTLE GOLD-FISH. + +A FAIRY TALE. + +BY JAMES K. PAULDING, AUTHOR OF THE "DUTCHMAN'S FIRESIDE," ETC. + + +In the reign of good King Doddipol, surnamed the Gnatsnapper, there +lived in a stately castle, on the top of a high mountain, a rich old +Norseman, who had an only son whom he loved with great ardor, and +little discretion, on account of his being the last of an illustrious +family. The youth was called Violet, partly because he had for his +godmother the Fairy Violetta, and partly on account of having on his +left shoulder an impression of that flower, so perfectly defined, and +so vivid in color, that the old nurse mistook it at first sight for a +real violet, and declared it smelled like a nosegay. + +Being the only son of a great and rich nobleman, as well as somewhat +indolent and unambitious, Violet passed much of his time, while +growing up to manhood, in thinking much and doing nothing. He was +without companions, having no equals around him, and was prohibited +from associating with his inferiors by the strict etiquette which +prevailed throughout the dominions of good King Doddipol. As he grew +up thus in almost entire solitude his temperament became highly +poetical and imaginative, his feelings irregular and ardent, and it +was predicted that some day or other he would become a martyr to love. + +Much of his time was spent in lonely rambles among the mountains which +surrounded the residence of the Old Man of the Hills, as he was +called, a distance of many miles in every direction, and one summer +day, wandering on without knowing or caring whither he went, he at +length found himself in a region where he had never been before. It +was a deep, sequestered, rocky dell, shaded by gloomy pines, from the +farther extremity of which there tumbled a bright cascade of +snow-white foam, which, after forming a deep transparent basin at its +foot, escaped murmuring among the rocks below and disappeared. Not a +sound was heard but that of the falling waters and the gurgling +stream, for the birds delight not in the gloom of perpetual shade, and +neither hunter nor woodman ever visited this lonely retreat. + +Tired with his long ramble, Violet sat down at the foot of a lofty +tree, whose roots seemed to drink of the crystal basin, and fell into +a deep reverie, during which his eyes were fixed unconsciously on the +transparent water, which, though clear as our northern lakes, was so +deep that no one could see the bottom. While thus occupied in weaving +webs of youthful anticipation, he saw a little gold-fish suddenly dart +from under the rock on which he was seated, and play around with +infinite grace, quivering its fins and fanning its tail, while their +bright colors glittered in the rippling water with indescribable +brilliancy. + +The youth watched its motions with increasing interest, and an +eagerness he had never experienced before. Sometimes it would come up +close to the spot, almost within reach of his hand, and after +balancing on the surface awhile, again dart away, only to return and +play a thousand fantastic gambols, full of vivacity and grace. At +other times it would remain stationary awhile, looking him in the face +with its mellow, melancholy eyes, and an expression of sorrowful +tenderness that sunk into his heart. He remained watching its motions +in deep solicitude, until the gathering shadows of twilight warned him +away, and reached home so late that he found his father anxiously +awaiting his return. The Old Man of the Hills inquired of him where he +had been, and what had detained him so long; but he answered +evasively, being ashamed to confess he had been fascinated by a little +gold-fish. + +That night he could think of nothing but the little gold-fish, and +when at length sleep came over his eyelids, he dreamed it was a +beautiful princess, transformed by the power of some wicked enchanter +or malignant fairy. The impression was so vivid in his mind, that when +he awoke he could not decide whether it was indeed a dream, or whether +he had not actually seen the charming princess, whose features were +indelibly impressed on his memory. The next morning he again sought +the path he had traveled the day before, and about mid-day arrived at +the glen of the shining cascade. He had scarcely seated himself, when +the little gold-fish darted from under the rock as before, and winning +its way to the surface of the crystal basin, looked at him with an +expression of its beautiful eyes that spoke a joyful welcome. Violet +put forth his hand, and tried to woo it still nearer, but it only gave +a melancholy shake of the head, and when he attempted to seize it, +retired beyond his reach with a lingering hesitation that seemed to +indicate a mingled desire and apprehension. + +Thus the little creature continued to coquette with him for several +days during which he repeated his visits, staying all day, and +dreaming every night the same dream of the beautiful princess changed +into a little gold-fish. While absent from the crystal basin, his +imagination was forever dwelling on the form and features of the +princess, and the mysterious connection he was convinced subsisted +between his waking thoughts and experience and his nightly dreams. By +degrees the two became inseparably associated together in his mind, +and insensibly he fell in love to distraction, but whether with the +beautiful princess or the little gold-fish he could not decide. He +became so melancholy in consequence that the latter, as if conscious +of his feelings, permitted him to take it in his hand, kiss it, and +nestle it in his bosom at pleasure. At such times he would beseech it +in the most moving terms to speak to him, tell him if his dreams were +true, and respond to his devoted affection. But it only replied by a +silent tear, and a look of strange meaning, which he could not +comprehend. + +Violet grew every day more sad, and his youthful form continued to +waste away, so that as he walked in the sun, his shadow could scarcely +be seen. During this period the behavior of the little gold-fish was +so full of inconsistencies and contradictions that Violet was well +nigh distracted. Sometimes it would contemplate his pale cheek and +wasted form with tears in its eyes, while at the next moment it looked +at him with an expression of unfeeling triumph. Then its eyes would +glance rapidly and eagerly, sometimes toward himself, at others down +on the crystal basin, and at others upward to the skies. + +One bright morning, when the position of the sun toward the east had +become gradually changed, and the beams of the former fell directly +upon the crystal basin, Violet was sitting, as usual, fondling the +little gold-fish in his hand, admiring its soft hazel eyes, and +addressing a thousand endearments to the little dumb creature, which +at that moment appeared insensible to his affection. Keeping its eyes +earnestly fixed on the transparent waters, which now glittered in the +golden beams of the sun, the youth suddenly felt it tremble as if with +ecstasy in his hand, as with a sudden spring it vaulted into the basin +and instantly disappeared. He gazed with intense anxiety, expecting +every moment it would reappear; but it returned no more, and after +waiting in vain, until dusky twilight enveloped the glen in shadows, +he bent his way homeward, scarcely conscious whither he was going. +That night he slept from the mere weariness of sorrow, and dreamed the +beautiful princess appeared to thank and bless him for her +disenchantment. + +The next day the Old Man of the Hills called his son before him, and +announced with great satisfaction that he had just concluded a treaty +of marriage between him and the oldest daughter of King Doddipol, a +lady of great discretion, and old enough to be his mother. The young +man quitted the presence of his father in despair, and, scarcely +conscious of whither he was wandering, sought the crystal basin at the +foot of the shining cascade. Here, seated on the rock, he gazed +himself almost blind, in the hope of seeing the little gold-fish once +more appear, to receive his last farewell. But he gazed in vain for +hours, and hours, until in the bitterness of disappointment he at +length cried out aloud--"It is all in vain. It will come no more, and +nothing is now left me but a remembrance carrying with it eternal +regrets. But one hope remains. I will seek my adored princess, for +such I know she is, where she disappeared from my sight, and either +find her or a grave." Saying this he plunged into the basin in an +agony of despair. + +He continued to sink, as it appeared to him, for nearly half an hour, +without once drawing his breath, until, just as he felt himself quite +exhausted, he found himself precipitated into what seemed a new +world, far more beautiful than that he had just abandoned. The skies +were of a deeper blue, and being likewise far more transparent, +reflected the features of the lower world as in a vast illimitable +mirror. There was no sun visible in the heavens. Yet a soft, delicious +mellow light, more rich and yet more gentle than that of summer +twilight, diffused itself everywhere, giving to every object the charm +of distance, and giving to the air a genial warmth inexpressibly +grateful. The meadows seemed like endless waving seas of verdure, and +together with the foliage of the woods, exhibited all the freshness of +the new-born spring; the little warbling birds seemed to revel among +the groves and verdant meads in joyous luxury, filling the air with +their melodious concert; the meadows were sprinkled with beds of +flowers of various hues and fragrance, and a thousand delicious odors +gave zest to every breath he drew. Vast fields of violets, most +especially, were spread out in every direction, larger and more +beautiful than any he had ever seen before. A gentle river meandered +deep and clear through a long valley spread out before him, skirted on +either side by pale blue hills, so high they seemed to reach and +mingle with the heavens above. A cool, refreshing zephyr played about +his brow, and as he breathed its inspiring odors, Violet felt himself +suddenly restored to all his wonted vigor and activity. + +As he stood gazing in almost stupefied wonder at the scene before him, +and doubtful whether it was merely a creation of his bewildered fancy, +he perceived a radiant female form approaching, seated in a chariot +formed of a single violet, and crowned with a diadem of the same +flowers. Her dress, too, was composed of many-colored violets, and her +chariot drawn by butterflies, whose wings of gold and purple were of +glorious lustre. The chariot stood still on coming up to the youth; +the lady springing out, lighted on the flowers without ruffling their +leaves, and giving him her tiny hand addressed him as follows: + + "Welcome, Prince Violet, for such you are by birth, + and by my creation. I was the friend of your + mother. I presided at your birth, and I gave you + your name. I therefore feel in some measure + responsible for your happiness, and am come hither + to give you the benefit of my advice and + assistance. Know, my prince, that you are brought + here by a destiny you could not avoid. You are in + the dominions, I might almost say in the power of + the wicked enchanter Curmudgeon, who is as potent + as he is wicked. Among his other diabolical acts, + he is an adept in the new science of animal + magnetism, can put you to sleep by the waving of + his hand, pull out your teeth without your knowing + any thing about it, and divorce your spirit from + your body, sending it wandering away to distant + regions, while the body remains unconscious though + not inanimate. In short, there is no end to his + wicked devices, and he is the most mischievous, + malignant monster in the world, inexorable in his + revenge, and clothed with the power of gratifying + it to its utmost extent. It is to warn you against + him that I am here. My name is Violetta." + +The prince, as he must now be called, listened to this speech with +great gravity and decorum, though he thought it rather long, and +replied with infinite discretion. He thanked the fairy for her kind +intentions, and concluded by observing that he had often, when a +child, heard his mother speak of the Fairy Violetta with great +affection. + +"Your mother was a woman of taste," said the fairy, "but there is not +a moment to be lost, for the enchanter is by this time apprized of +your coming, and the purport of your visit. Do not ask me what that +is. It is sufficient that you are here to fulfill your destiny." + +The fairy then stamped three times with her little foot on a bed of +violets. At the first stamp there rose out of the ground a superb suit +of violet-colored armor; at the second a sword and spear; and at the +third a gallant violet-colored steed richly caparisoned. + +"Take these, arm thyself, mount, and away. You will meet with many +obstacles in your course, but you have nothing to fear so long as you +fear nothing. Your first enemy will be a little mischievous caitiff, +called Master Whipswitchem, a creature of the wicked enchanter; your +second a monstrous giant; your third a beautiful spectre, and your +fourth the enchanter himself. The first you must circumvent by your +wit; the second by your valor; the third by your self-command; and the +fourth by your promptitude and sagacity. There is no magic in your +weapons, though they are equally good and true. Your dependence must +be on yourself alone; on your valor, your constancy, and your cause; +and remember, that should you ever turn your back on an enemy, whether +man, beast, or fiend, your happy destiny will never be accomplished. +You will never see your little gold-fish again. + +"My little gold-fish!" exclaimed the prince eagerly--"What dost thou +mean? O tell me, most beneficent fairy!" + +"You will know in good time, if you do not turn recreant," answered +the fairy, with a significant smile. "But away, away, my prince. Mount +and away. Follow the course of the river, and once more, never turn +aside let what will be before you, remembering that nothing is +impossible to courage, conduct, and perseverance in a good cause." + +The prince bowed himself before the lady, repeated his grateful +thanks, mounted his neighing steed, which pawed the ground +impatiently, and was about clapping spurs to his sides, when the fairy +suddenly stopped him. + +"Hold, prince! I had almost forgotten. Take this bouquet of violets, +place it in your bosom, and guard it well. But be careful not to draw +it forth except in the last extremity, depending always on your valor +and your sword. When your life shall hang suspended by a single hair; +when the last breath is quivering on thy lips, and all other means +fail, then, and not till then, use it as your instinct may direct. +Adieu, my prince--be faithful, bold and fortunate." + +The fairy mounted her chariot, the butterflies spread their gorgeous +wings, and ascending rapidly through the transparent skies the whole +pageant disappeared. The prince lost not a moment in pursuing the +course pointed out by the fairy, and as he proceeded, gradually fell +into a reverie, the subject of which was the hint that it would depend +on himself whether he ever saw the little gold-fish again. The thought +roused him to the utmost height of daring, and he resolved, come what +might, nothing should be wanting on his part to the accomplishment of +a glorious and happy destiny. He fell himself suddenly animated by +this determination to gain a noble prize by noble exertions, for +nothing is more certain than that none but groveling, abject beings, +to whom nature has denied the ordinary faculties of mind, can remain +insensible to the excitement of glory, or the rewards of love. + +He had not, however, proceeded far, when on a sudden there alighted on +the head of his steed, right between the ears, one of the most +extraordinary creatures he had ever seen. It was a little imp, about +three feet high, exactly resembling one of those scarecrows we +sometimes see in corn-fields, except that it was a great deal more +_outre_ in its form and dimensions. It wore an immense hat, of the +shape of a cullender, and with almost as many holes, through which +protruded little wisps of straw instead of feathers. The face was +perfectly undefinable, having neither dimensions nor shape, resembling +nothing of the live human species, and consisting apparently entirely +of a nose which projected several inches beyond the brim of his hat; +his shirt-collar was tied with a piece of rope; his jacket was as much +too short as his breeches were too long, one being out at the elbows, +the other at the knees, the latter of which were tied with a wisp of +straw tortured into a true lover's knot; his legs seemed nothing but a +pair of short broom-sticks, of neither shape nor substance, ensconced +in an old pair of spatterdashes; and the toes of his shoes curled +upward like a pair of old-fashioned skates. Altogether he cut a +curious figure, and the prince could not help laughing at his new +traveling companion. "This," thought he, "must be Master +Whipswitchem." + +But his gallant steed did not seem to enter into the spirit of the +joke. He pricked his ears, pawed the ground, snorted, champed and +foamed, and finally stood stock still, trembling like a leaf. Prince +Violet began to wax somewhat impatient. Yet at length said to him very +courteously-- + +"My friend, if it is the same thing to you, I had rather you would get +off and walk." + +"Thank you, my friend, but if it's the same thing to you, I'd rather +ride. Ho-ho! ha-hah!" and thereupon he laughed like a whole swarm of +flies. + +Then the valiant prince drew his sword and gave Master Whipswitchem a +great blow under the short-ribs, which he took it for granted would +cut him in two; but the sword rebounded as if it had struck on an +empty bladder, while the little imp only bounded upward about three +yards, alighting in the same place as before, and crying out, "Ho-ho! +hah-hah!" At this rate, thought Prince Violet, I shall never get to +the end of my journey. Still he repeated his blows, at each one of +which the pestiferous little imp only jumped higher and laughed +louder, and the gallant steed only snorted, pawed, and stamped more +vehemently, until both steed and master became quite exhausted. The +latter then resorted to artifice, seeing that force was unavailing. So +putting up his sword, he affected to expostulate with his troublesome +companion on the impropriety of his conduct, watching at the same time +for an opportunity of laying hold of him. When he seemed off his +guard, and was crying "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" with infinite glee, the prince +suddenly throwing himself forward, seized him by the long nose, and +after holding him up kicking in the air for a few moments--for he was +as light as a feather--with a sudden jerk pitched him away out into +the river, where, after bobbing up and down some half a dozen times, +and crying "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" he disappeared. "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" cried the +prince, "I think I have done Master Whipstichem's business this time." +After which he proceeded gayly on his journey. + +Before, however, he had time to enjoy the victory, his gallant steed +suddenly began to rear up before, and then to kick up behind with +great violence. The prince clapped his hand on his trusty blade, +thinking he was approaching the giant, but on looking round in every +direction could see neither castle nor draw-bridge. Indeed nothing +visible seemed to justify the horse in his unseemly gambols, and the +prince accused his gallant steed of being in league with his enemies, +when happening to look over his shoulder, who should he see but Master +Whipswitchem seated quietly on the crupper, and spurring away with an +old rusty nail he had fixed in the heel of his shoe, while he held by +the horse's tail for a bridle. "I swear by the eyes of my beautiful +gold-fish," cried the prince, "but this is too bad!" And then he +attempted to dislodge the pestilent imp, by thrusting his elbow into +his back; but the little caitiff every time bounced up like a +tennis-ball, and the next instant was in his seat, crying, "Ho-ho! +ha-ha!" louder than ever. This time he was too cunning for the prince; +for knowing by experience that his nose was the most exposed part of +his outworks, he kept his back to the prince, and his face toward the +tail of the horse. At the expiration of an hour the prince became so +worried that he could scarcely lift his hand to his head, and his +horse so exhausted that he could kick no more. At length, however, +while the little caitiff was spurring and laughing away with great +glee, the prince turning suddenly round on the saddle, seized the rope +which he wore round his neck for a cravat, and leaping from his steed, +hoisted him up to an old sign-post at the road-side, where he left him +dangling in the air. "Ho-ho! ha-ha!" said the prince, "I think I shall +have no more trouble with Master Whipswitchem." + +Finding himself as well as his steed quite exhausted, and both +requiring rest and refreshment, Prince Violet dismounted in a +pleasant, shady grove, through which meandered a clear stream, +bordered by rich, luxuriant grass, thus furnishing both drink and food +to the panting animal, whom, having turned loose, he left to roam at +will. Seating himself among a bed of fragrant flowers, he lighted a +cigar, and sat smoking and thinking of his future prospects. + +"Ho-ho! ha-hah! my prince, what are you about? You put me in mind of a +smoking chimney, though from your mighty contented look, I should +suppose you were very pleasantly occupied. I should like to take a +puff too, if you have no objection." + +"O, beneficent Fairy Violetta," exclaimed the prince, "what shall I do +with this pestiferous caitiff, who minds neither hanging nor +drowning?" And thereupon the fairy, who doubtless heard his +adjuration, inspired him with a lucky thought. Knowing that the little +caitiff was but a man of straw, animated by the wicked enchanter, he +at once resolved to take advantage of that circumstance. + +"Ho-ho! ha-hah! are you there, my friend?" replied the prince. "Well, +I see there is no use in quarreling with such a pleasant fellow. Come, +sit down, and take a puff with me, and let us swear eternal +friendship." + +"Agreed!" replied the little caitiff, briskly. "It is true you played +a joke or two on me, but I flatter myself, on the whole, I paid you +beforehand; and for the present the account is pretty well balanced." + +So they sat down and smoked very sociably together, talking about +various matters, until the little caitiff's cigar being burnt to a +stump, and somewhat incommoding his long nose, he began turning and +twisting it about, until it set fire to some blades of straw that +projected from his nostrils, which straight-way communicated to his +head, and thence to his body, and in a moment he was in full blaze. + +"I am a gone sucker!" exclaimed he, and the words were scarcely out of +his mouth when, he became nothing but a heap of black ashes. + +"Ho-ho! ha-hah!" quoth the prince, "if he is a gone sucker, I take it +for granted, it is all Dicky with Master Whipswitchem." And then, +himself and his horse being sufficiently refreshed, he mounted and +rode forward on his journey. + +Ascending a high, wearisome hill, he saw at a little distance a great +and magnificent castle, which he at once took for that of the +enchanter Curmudgeon. The crisis of his fate was then at hand; and +after inspecting his armor and equipments, the prince spurred on +briskly to consummate his destiny. A few moments brought him to a +tower, at the end of a draw-bridge, where hung an enormous bell, +which, without hesitating a moment, he rung till it resounded far and +near. Instantly at the sound there rose up from the inner side, a +monstrous and deformed giant, upward of sixteen feet high. As he +advanced, he seemed all body and no legs--the latter being utterly +disproportioned to the former; his shoulders rose like mountains, one +higher than the other, almost to the top of his head; his body was all +over covered with impenetrable scales like an alligator, and he wore +on his head an old Continental cocked-hat, from which projected a +queue of such unaccountable length that it was said nobody ever saw +the end of it. But his most atrocious feature was a great proboscis, +growing just over a little pug nose, he used for smelling, about the +size of that of an elephant, which it exactly resembled in strength +and elasticity. + +"What want you here?" roared the monster, in a voice so loud and +horrible, that it set the bell tinkling, and in a most discourteous +manner peculiar to giants, who are notorious for their ill manners. + +"I wish to see the far-famed and puissant enchanter, the great +Curmudgeon, with whom I have a bone to pick, an please your worship," +replied the prince, with infinite politeness. + +"You see him--what good will that do? He would not look at, much less +speak to, such a sloppy stripling as you. To the right-about--march! +or I'll make mince-meat of you in less than no time." + +"Stand aside, and let me pass!" cried the enraged prince, drawing his +sword. + +"Advance at your peril!" roared the giant, twirling his proboscis, and +twisting his long queue like a great black-snake. + +And now commenced a battle, the like of which is not recorded in +history, tradition, or romance. The sword of the valiant prince +gleamed, and flashed, and flew about like lightning, raining such a +shower of dry blows on the monster, that had not his hide been +invulnerable to any but enchanted weapons, he would in good time have +been a gone sucker, as Sir Bruin said. The giant, on the other hand, +had managed his proboscis with admirable skill, his great object being +to entwine the prince in its folds, and squeeze him to death. +Sometimes he would stretch it out at least six yards, and at others +draw it in suddenly, in hopes the prince would be deceived as to its +length, and come within the sphere of its action. But the prince being +gloriously seconded by his gallant steed, displayed an activity fully +equal to the craft of the giant; and for an hour at least the fight +continued doubtful. The only vulnerable part of the monster was his +long queue, which the prince, in hopes that, like Sampson, his +strength might peradventure lie in his hair, by an adroit manoeuvre +cut off about six feet from his head. Thereupon he roared like ten +thousand bulls of Bashan, insomuch that the enchanter, Curmudgeon, +feared he was vanquished, and trembled in the recesses of his castle. + +The giant frantic with rage at the loss of what he was more vain of +than even his stately proboscis, now redoubled his efforts, while the +prince every moment became more exhausted, and his gallant steed +ceased his usual activity. The giant seeing this, watched his +opportunity, till he at length succeeded in throwing a slipping noose, +made by twisting his proboscis over the head of the prince. This he +gradually tightened with all his force, until the prince perceived +himself rapidly suffocating. His eyes failed him, and seemed bursting +from their orbits; his vision presented nothing but gleams of many +colored lights dancing before him; his heart heaved and panted with +throes of desperate agony; his arm became almost nerveless, and his +sword fell from his hand, while the shouts of the giant announced that +the victory was won. + +At this moment of extreme peril, when the last gleam of consciousness +lingered in his brain, the prince recollected the bouquet of violets +which he still carried in his bosom, and drawing it forth with a +desperate effort, thrust it into the little pug nose of the giant, +which was directly before him. That instant the proboscis relaxed, as +if by magic, and the giant suddenly untwining its folds, commenced a +fit of sneezing, awful to hear, jumping up several feet from the +ground at every paroxysm, swearing at intervals like a trooper, and +cutting the most enormous capers. The moment Prince Violet recovered +himself sufficiently, he dismounted, and regaining his trusty sword, +belabored the impenetrable hide of the egregious monster with such +arrant good will, that he retreated backward between every fit of +sneezing, until finally falling into the moat, he stuck fast in the +mud, sneezing and roaring most vociferously. + +Prince Violet lost no time, but passed swiftly into the castle, and +proceeding through several apartments, far more vast and magnificent +than the palace of King Doddipol, at length came to the study where +the wicked enchanter practiced Mesmerism, and other diabolical +devices. The old sinner was seated in an arm-chair of ebony, curiously +carved, and ornamented with figures of strange, misshapen imps, among +which the prince recognized his old friend, Master Whipswitchem. By +his side stood a female of such transcendent and inimitable beauty, +that the prince at once concluded this was the phantom against whom he +was so emphatically warned by his good friend the fairy. He allowed +himself but one glance, which sufficed to convince him she resembled +exactly the charming princess he had so often seen in his dreams, and +which had like to have proved fatal. Then shutting his eyes, he +advanced backward, sword in hand, toward the enchanter, who at the +first moment he saw him, began those mysterious wavings of the hand +with which he was wont to put his victims to sleep, and those +cabalistic words which changed men into beasts, insects, and reptiles. +But the prince having his eyes shut, and his back toward him, could +not see his motions, and the enchanter being horribly affrighted, as +well as naturally a great blockhead, was so long in recollecting the +formula of his incantation, that the prince, seeing by a sly glance +over the shoulder, that he was sufficiently near, suddenly turned +round, and with one blow severed his head from his shoulders. Then +catching it before it fell to the ground, he threw it into the great +kettle that hung boiling over the fire. He was just in time, for +Curmudgeon had got to the last but one of his cabalistic words, and in +a single instant more, Prince Violet would have been changed into a +cabbage. No sooner was the head thrown into the kettle, than the water +began to hiss and foam, and blaze up in spires of blue sulphureous +flame, until finally the kettle burst into a thousand fragments, and +the head disappeared up the chimney. Then the phantom beauty, uttering +a shrill, dismal scream, melted into air--and the enchantment was +dissolved forever. At that moment Prince Violet heard a voice from the +skies, as tuneful as the music of the spheres, saying, "Well done, my +prince, the death of the wicked enchanter was necessary to the +recovery of thy lost gold-fish--for while he lived thou wouldst never +have seen it again. Go on--thy destiny ere long will be accomplished." +A strain of aerial music succeeded, which gradually faded into +whispering zephyrs, bearing on their wings the mingled perfume of a +thousand flowers. + +The prince took possession of the castle by right of conquest; and +when the people over whom the enchanter had reigned with a cruel and +despotic sway heard of the gallantry with which he had rid them of +their tyrant, they gathered themselves together, and with one voice +chose him for their king. + +Prince Violet proved an excellent sovereign; but, though he made his +subjects happy, he partook not in what he so freely bestowed on +others. The recollection of the little gold-fish, and of the beautiful +princess he had so often seen in his dreams, was ever present, and +poisoned his days and nights with perpetual sorrows. Though courted by +King Grabyall, and all the surrounding potentates, who had grown up +daughters, he declined their advances, passing most of his leisure +hours in wandering along the river he had followed in his journey, and +which flowed just at the foot of the terrace of his stately castle. He +remembered that it issued from the aperture through which he had +emerged from the crystal basin, and constantly fed his sickly fancy +with the hope that the little gold-fish might have vanished in the +same direction. If so, it was probably still in the river, if it lived +at all; and he was perpetually bending over the stream, watching the +gambols of the finny tribes, to see if he could not detect among them +his lost wanderer. + +One day having rambled much further than he had ever been before in +that direction, he perceived in turning a sharp angle of the river, a +noble marble villa, which had never attracted his notice before. It +basked its white, unsullied beauties on the bank of the murmuring +stream, and its turrets rose from out a sea of green foliage that +almost hid them from sight. Led by curiosity, or rather by his +destiny, he approached the building by a winding walk, that seemed +almost a labyrinth, now bringing him near, and anon carrying him to a +distance, until tired at last, he stopped, and rested himself under +the shade of a stately beech, that spread its broad arms afar, and +afforded a delightful canopy. Here, gazing around in listless apathy, +his attention was attracted by the letter V, carved on the smooth +bark, and environed with a chaplet of violets, underneath which the +motto, "Forget me not," was cut in graceful letters. While pondering +on this rural emblem of constant love, he was startled by a low and +plaintive female voice chanting the following simple strain, with the +gentle pathos of chastened sorrow: + + "Forget me not! forget me not! + Pale, withered leaf, in which I read + The sad, mysterious, lonely lot + By cruel fate for me decreed. + + "Pale, withered leaf, you mind me now + Of him whose gentle name you bear, + Whose lips once uttered many a vow, + In breath more sweet than violets are. + + "Oft would he take me in his hands, + Oft hide me in his throbbing heart; + Oft kiss my eyes with words so bland-- + Was ever scaly imp so blessed; + + "I joy'd his wasting form to see, + His stately beauties fade away; + 'T was wo to him, but bliss to me-- + It made him sad, while I was gay. + + "But I shall never see him more, + Nor share with him my life's dear lot; + Sweet youth, whose memory I adore-- + Forget me not! forget me not!" + +These words, sung to a sweet, melancholy melody, equally excited the +sympathy and wonder of the prince. The idea of a young lady being +delighted at seeing the face of her lover wither, and his body waste +away, he thought did little credit to the heart of woman; and that +what made him sad should make her gay, appeared to show a great want +of sympathy. As to the "little scaly imp," he could make nothing of +it. Still there was that in the song which seemed to bear some strange +allusion to his own peculiar situation; and his curiosity became so +excited, that without reflecting on the impropriety of his conduct, or +its consequences, he, as it were, impelled by an involuntary yet +irresistible impulse, advanced in the direction whence the voice +proceeded. + +Passing through a long winding avenue bordered by beds of violets, and +overshadowed by lofty trees, he at length came to a bower of +clambering vines entwined with each other, at the further extremity of +which, seated on a bank of flowers, he beheld a female figure, her +cheek resting on her hand, and tears flowing from her eyes. He gazed +on her face, which was turned toward the heavens, and shuddered as he +recognized an exact likeness of the phantom beauty he had seen at the +side of the enchanter's chair. He sought to retreat, but continued to +advance by an irresistible impulse, until the lady, at the sound of +his footsteps, looked toward him. The moment she saw the prince she +uttered a piercing shriek, at the same time rushing forward with +extended arms, and a face glowing with joyous welcome. Then, as if +suddenly recollecting herself, she hastily retired, and sunk down on +the seat, her cheek glowing with blushes. The prince continued to +advance, controlled by an influence he could not withstand, and coming +up to her, apologized as well as the confusion of his mind would +permit, for his unceremonious intrusion. + +The lady remained gazing at him, with mingled smiles and blushes, for +a few moments, and then addressed the prince in words that seemed to +come from a mouth of roses. + +"Don't you know me, my prince?" + +"Know you," faltered he, "I believe--I fear--I know you but too well. +You are the phantom beauty. The chosen instrument of the wicked +enchanter, Curmudgeon." + +"Alas! no. I am no phantom, nor, I trust, an instrument of mischief at +least to you. The phantom was formed in my likeness, because--because, +as the enchanter confessed, he could create nothing so beautiful as +myself by the utmost exertion of his arts." + +The prince gazed at her in a trance of admiration, for never, with the +single exception of the phantom, and the idol princess of his dreams, +had he seen a being so enchantingly lovely. The lady received his +scrutiny with smiles of modest pleasure, and at length repeated her +question-- + +"Do you not know me, my prince?" + +The prince emboldened by her smiles, or impelled by his destiny, +seated himself by her side, and gazed ardently, yet wistfully, in her +face. There was something in the expression of her eyes he fancied he +had seen before, but when or where he could not call to mind. At +length the lady, compassionating his perplexity, again anxiously +asked-- + +"Do you remember a certain little gold-fish?" + +"Remember? I shall never forget," and his eyes glistened. + +"Do you remember how you used to come to the crystal basin, at the +foot of the shining cascade, and stay all day long fondling a little +gold-fish, kissing its eyes, and hiding it in your bosom?" + +"Remember!" cried the prince, "the recollection constitutes the hope, +or rather the despair, of my life. Would that I could see my dear +little companion again. Methinks I should then be happy, or at least +die content." + +"Look in my face--look steadily," replied the lady, greatly agitated. + +Their eyes met, and that look of mutual intelligence which never +deceives, disclosed the mystery. He recognized at once that glance of +mingled love and gratitude he had so often seen beaming from the soft +expressive eyes of the little gold-fish. He started from her side, +threw himself at her feet, and exclaimed-- + +"Tell me--tell me! art not _thou_ my little gold-fish?" + +"I am," rejoined the lady. "Once thy little gold-fish, now thy +faithful and devoted handmaid, the Princess Violetta. It is to thy +constancy I am indebted for the recovery of my former self; and such +as I am, I will be to thee what thou choosest to make me." + +"Mine forever! my beloved, my adored wife!" cried the prince, as he +folded her in his arms, kissed her as he was wont to do the little +gold-fish, and at that moment reaped the reward of all his sufferings. + +After enjoying the first delights of mutual love, the princess said to +him, "Doubtless you are anxious to know how I came to be transformed +into a fish; and I will tell you now, that there may be nothing to +explain hereafter. I must begin early, for my misfortunes commenced +almost at my birth. I am the only child of King Grabyall, in whose +dominions you now are; and according to the universal custom of all +royal christenings, a great many fairies were invited to mine, and +some few vulgar things came without invitation. Among the latter was +an old fairy, so ill-natured and malicious, that, though very powerful +to do evil, no one would pay her the least attention; for they knew +that no kindness could conciliate the wicked old creature. Of course, +neither my father nor mother paid her the least attention, or made her +presents; and no one spoke a word to her, at which she flew into a +great rage, and went away shaking her wand, and mumbling in a spiteful +manner, 'Well, good people, you are all mighty silent now, but before +long you shall have talking enough, I promise you!' + +"Everybody laughed at the spiteful old woman--but it was no such +laughing matter, I assure you, my prince; for she was hardly out of +sight, when, to the astonishment of the whole court, I began to talk +with such volubility that nobody could keep pace with me. First I +scolded the nurse, then abused the fairies, and finally took my +parents to task roundly for attempting to stop me. The courtiers tried +to persuade them that this was only an omen of my precocious genius, +and that, beyond all doubt, I should one day become the wisest, most +eloquent princess in the world. But they remembered the threat of the +malicious old fairy, and became exceeding sorrowful. As I grew up my +volubility increased; I talked from morning till night, and all night +too. Sleeping or waking, it was just the same; and my voice was so +loud and shrill that it could be heard all over the palace. What +rendered the matter still worse, I was exceeding ill-natured, +satirical, and witty, insomuch, that all were afraid to come near me; +and I was obliged at last to talk to myself. It is necessary I should +apprise you that I grew up to great beauty, and by the time I was +sixteen, many of the neighboring princes came to pay their addresses +to me. But I never gave them an opportunity, for before they could +open their lips, I poured a torrent of satirical reproaches in their +ears that struck them all dumb; insomuch, that it was said some of +them never recovered their speech afterward. Do you not hate me, my +prince, for being such a termagant?" + +The prince, to say the truth, was a little startled at this detail, +but replied with a look that was perfectly satisfactory; and the +princess proceeded with her story. + +"At the age of seventeen, the enchanter, Curmudgeon, incited by the +report of my beauty, came to pay my father a visit--my mother being +long since dead. He at first sight fell violently in love, and +demanded me in marriage of my father, who, though a kind-hearted, good +man, was, I believe, heartily glad to get rid of me, but at the same +time frankly apprized him of my infirmity. 'O, ho!' answered the +enchanter, 'never mind that--I shall soon cure her, I warrant you.' He +then approached to make his declaration, when, being exceedingly +provoked at his slighting expressions, which I had overheard, I gave +him such an explosion of satire, spleen, and ill-nature, as he had +never probably heard before. I ridiculed his pretensions, scoffed at +his person, despised his offers, and defied his power, until he could +stand it no longer. Stamping his foot on the floor, waving his hand, +and muttering some cabalistic words, he at length cried out in a rage, +'BE DUMB FOREVER! or at least till such time as some prince shall be +fool enough to fall in love with you, and pine away until he makes no +shadow in the sun.' + +"At that moment I found myself changed into a gold-fish, and swimming +in the crystal basin where you first saw me. How long I remained there +before you made your appearance I cannot tell, but I know that I was +heartily tired of my loneliness, and at first felt the loss of speech +very severely. I rejoiced when I first saw you. Your caresses +penetrated my heart, and--you must forgive me, my dear prince--but +when I beheld you wasting away daily, and knew it was for love of me, +my happiness grew with your sorrows, for I felt that my deliverance +was at hand, and that I should live to reward you for all your +sufferings. The day the sun first shone full into the crystal basin, +and I saw that you cast no shadow there, you may remember, I suddenly +darted from your hand and disappeared. It was very ungrateful, but I +could not resist my destiny. I was instantly transformed to my +original likeness, and--but don't be alarmed, my prince, for I assure +you my propensity to talking was effectually and forever repressed, by +the long habit of silence I had preserved as the little gold-fish. I +was received by my father with affectionate welcome, and--and what +else shall I say? I have mourned your absence day after day, until I +almost ceased to hope that I should ever see you again. But," added +the princess, with a look of unutterable tenderness, "thou hast come +back once more to me--thou hast sought and found thy little gold-fish, +and I am happy." + +The prince had scarcely time to return suitable acknowledgments, and +vow eternal love, when they were roused by the sound of the hunter's +horn, announcing the return of King Grabyall from the chase. The +princess introduced him to the prince; and his majesty being in high +good humor, having been very successful that morning, beside having +an excellent appetite for dinner, received him most graciously. The +ardent prince lost no time in declaring his love; and King Grabyall, +knowing that he had been chosen to govern the territories of the +enchanter, Curmudgeon, beside inheriting all his vast riches, +graciously consented to the marriage. He did this the more willingly, +knowing from late experience that the princess, having fulfilled the +denunciation of the malicious old fairy, had survived her infirmity. + +There was never in this world such a splendid and happy wedding; and +what added to the pleasure of all parties, was seeing the good fairy, +Violetta, enter the superb saloon to honor the ceremony. + +"Welcome, my prince," said she, holding out her little, delicate hand, +"I congratulate you; you have triumphed by valor and constancy." + +When the ceremony was over, the prince inquired anxiously whether she +knew aught of his father, and was informed that he had married the +daughter of good King Doddipol, and was wasting his substance as fast +as possible, by giving _fetes_ to the bride, and lending great sums to +his father-in-law. Prince Violet sighed at the fate of the Old Man of +the Hills, but in good time forgot all his griefs in the arms of love +and beauty. + +The Princess Violetta made a most excellent wife, and never afterward +talked more than became a reasonable woman. The wicked giant, who, it +should have been premised, had been extricated from the moat, and +finished his fit of sneezing, being freed from the diabolical +influence of the enchanter, Curmudgeon, took the pledge, became a +tetotailer, and lived ever after an example to all overgrown monsters, +past, present, and future. + + + + +THE VESPER BELL. + +BY PARK BENJAMIN. + + + How deep and mournfully at eve's sweet hour + The bell for vespers chimes its holiest note, + When the soft twilight lends its soothing power + And on the air a silence seems to float! + + The weary wand'rer knows a home of rest, + He toils not now who toiled the livelong day, + Friends cherish fondest recollections, blest + With thoughts of them whose love cannot decay, + + The best affections of the heart are told, + We greet with joy our dear, domestic hearth, + And think how strong the viewless bonds that hold + Unwearied love to transient things of Earth. + + And visions of his lyre the poet sees + At this lone time of Nature's sweet repose, + When fancied music, borne on every breeze, + AEolian-like, with thrilling sadness flows. + + Oh, then move thoughts, the holiest and best, + O'er the soul's calm and mild serenity, + Like beauteous birds that skim along the breast + Of the still waters in some waveless sea. + + Where that deep bell sends forth its solemn tone, + How many worship at Devotion's shrine! + How many voices rise before the throne + Whence the bright glories of the Godhead shine! + + Not when the glories of th' opening day + With crimson blushes usher in the dawn, + Not when the noontide pours its deepest ray + On forest, glade, blue lake and emerald lawn; + + Not when the moonbeams shed their silvery light + In richest lustre over copse and dell, + Come sainted hopes, sweet dreams and fancies bright + As when through shadows sounds the Vesper Bell. + + + + +THE TEACHER TAUGHT. + +BY MARY S. ADAMS. + + +"Three months' imprisonment! Heigho!" soliloquized Harvey Hall, as he +entered the school-room, and surveyed the array of seats before him. +"Well, poverty is a crime punished not only by one's state and +country, but by the whole world. Here am I longing for a profession +which shall give some play to my mind, which shall enable me to take a +stand among men; and now to purchase that profession I must 'teach +young ideas' till the requisite sum is obtained. The daughters of +Darius were condemned for the murder of their husbands to fill leaky +vessels in Tartarus--that is, they became teachers! It is hard that +those who have neither _been_ nor _murdered_ husbands should endure +like punishment." + +Harvey Hall always spoke the truth, albeit sometimes the truth a +little _swollen_; so he was, as he said, condemned to a temporary +reign over children and spelling-books, in order to pursue his +studies--for the expenses of which the limited finances of his parents +would not suffice; and he had taken the academy at L., with the due +announcement of all his qualifications in the county newspaper. + +"Some bright faces here," thought he, as his eyes glanced over those +of his scholars upturned to him, and rested on one with eyes bright +enough to light Cupid on his way to any untenanted heart, but bearing +the expression of smothered mirth, never relished by those who do not +happen to know the _mot d'enigme_. Small white fingers traced +something rapidly on the slate, which was then given to a young lady, +who, on the perusal of its characters, gave a stifled laugh, and +buried her face in a handkerchief. But the author of the mischief, +whatever it was, instantly turned to gravity, and met the searching +gaze of Hall with a demure look which amused him not a little. + +"That daughter of Parson Hinton finds fun enough in something. I wish +her father could preach her into better behavior. She is the most +troublesome sprite I have in school. Young ladies," he said, assuming +all the dignity of his position, "less whispering, and more attention +to your studies would conduce to your improvement." + +Annie Hinton and her chum took their books, and were soon apparently +absorbed in them. Annie met with some question she could not solve; +and taking her book to the teacher, she asked an explanation. It was +given. + +"And you made an observation just now, sir, which I wish to remember. +Will you be so kind as to repeat it," she added, bending toward him +with the greatest mock attention and deference. + +It is said that the worst reception of a compliment is to request its +repetition; and the remark is just as applicable to a reproof. +Certainly Harvey Hall found it so. Impudence he could have met +successfully; but there was something in the arch air of respect, so +evidently assumed, and in the polite tone accompanying bright eyes +which _would_ almost laugh out, which told him that the present scene +would figure in some after frolic formidable enough to young gentlemen +who are never proof against the ridicule of mirthful girls in their +teens. He longed to laugh with her at it all, but an assembled school, +a roguish scholar, would not exactly admit of this; so, coloring a +little, and then provoked at himself for the _gossiping_ blood which +betrayed his inward embarrassment, he said, + +"Oh, merely that study is more appropriate to the school-room than +amusement. I shall be happy to have it dwell in your memory and +practice, Miss Hinton." + +Annie bowed gracefully, gravely, and turned away, but not before Hall +mentally resolved never to admonish her again if he could avoid it. + +When the day for compositions came--that bore which all parties would +gladly overlook instead of look over--Hall, dreading trite essays on +all the hackneyed themes of school, told the misses under his charge +to write on any thing that interested them--they might describe some +of the manners and customs among them. + +"But we have _no manners_, and very few customs, Mr. Hall," said +Annie. + +"Well, select any subject that pleases yourself, Miss Annie." + +The composition was on Dignity, and was so ludicrous, so _personal_ a +description of it, that Mr. Hall was fairly puzzled. What shall I say +to this merry damsel, who seems to turn into sport all I say or do. I +cannot correct her. + +"Miss Hinton, carry this home to your father, and see if he says it is +a proper article for you to bring in as a composition." + +The next day it was returned with, "My father thinks Dignity one of +the finest things he has ever seen," she said, half hesitating, as if +unwilling to utter such praise, but looking as if all the spirits of +fun had taken the opportunity to look out of her eyes. Of course, her +reverend parent had never had a glimpse of it--and this her teacher +very well knew. + +But why watch her with more interest than all the "well behaved" of +his school? In accordance with Scripture, he left the ninety and nine +just ones, to search for the one who went astray. The lessons she +recited had for him a double interest; the days she was absent were +like the dull, gray sky of autumn--nay, several times he even +acknowledged to himself that teaching was _not_ the dull routine he +had supposed, and the term of his probation had not the leaden wings +he had anticipated. + +But there was an apprehension to disturb the tenor of his thoughts, +and fall heavily upon his official capacity. He had--yes, he certainly +had seen Annie Hinton receive a billet from Charles Lane; and Charles +Lane was a bright youth--a fine scholar--ready to enter college the +next term--and just her age. It was wrong, decidedly wrong, to have +any silly flirtations between mere boys and girls--he had always +considered it so; but now it was wonderful to see how strong his +reasoning, and firm his opinions were on this subject. And personal +experience _has_ an extraordinary power in giving edge to moral +reflections; how it draws them out of the shade, concentrates and +clinches them. + +Well, Harvey Hall felt really grieved that scholars should have their +attention drawn away from their studies by such nonsense as a +children's love affair. Charles Lane was a promising boy to be sure; +but he must go through college, and be settled in life before he ought +to think of fancying any one. He might become dissipated--such bright +boys often did; or fickle--in short, no one knew which rein of his +character the future might pull. And Annie--pretty creature--who could +not pass a day without some mirthful episode, how ridiculous for a +child like her to think of selecting a lover! her mind was not +disciplined at all--her taste not pronounced; she might make a +different choice when she really knew her own wishes, and had seen +more of the world. It would be wrong to entangle herself with any +passing fancy like the present--really wrong to suffer a child to make +a decision by which the _woman_ must abide. And then the good minister +would be shocked to see his plaything, Annie, forming any foolish +attachment. Yes, he must do all he could to prevent it. But how could +Parson Hinton be so blind? The other evening when he called there, +Charles Lane knocked at the door, to bring a slip of geranium, which +he had walked several miles to get for Annie; and the old gentleman +only said, "You are very obliging, Charles--drop in and see us often." +So strange, not to know it was just like such precocious youths to +fancy themselves in love with every pretty girl. So laws were enacted +stricter than those of the Medes and Persians, against all billets +passed in school; as if Cupid, had he made the essay, would not have +delighted to jeopardize all regulations, and fly in the face of all +laws. + +One day as Mr. Hall was ascending the steps to enter school, he saw +Annie give Charles Lane a knitted purse, and heard her say something +about "the phillipina." As I said, he was _principled_ against such +interchange of sentiment, or gifts, between such children; but the +present instance did not come precisely under his dominion, being +_out_ of school--and he entered upon his duties with a somewhat cloudy +brow. Every one has observed how much the sky of his feelings +influences the earth of reality. If one wakes "out of tune" in the +morning, the events of the day seldom harmonize him. Let you walk out +in a city, feeling blue and burthened, and how many things conspire to +annoy you. You are blinded by dust, or contaminated with mud, or the +snow slumps, or your feet slip at every step; a child is almost run +over in the street; people jostle rudely; the bell tolls; the +town-crier seems to scream at every corner where you turn; the lady +you particularly admire is talking with vast animation to ----, and +does not even perceive you; a bow thrown away; Mr. Lawkens, the deaf +man, will cross over to speak to you, but cannot hear your answer, +although you have repeated it the third time; a gust of wind blows off +your hat, and a bore holds you by the button to tell you, what you +well knew, the election has gone against your favorite candidate; +while you inwardly exclaim, "misfortunes never come single." + +Our pedagogue had a hazy atmosphere around his spirit this day--and +nothing cleared it. The recitations were miserable, and the boys full +of pranks--which boys are heir to; the girls were any thing but +book-intent. The class in chemistry was called, and as Mr. Hall was +performing some experiments on the apparatus, he said, + +"Now, when I apply this, you will see that--it wont go," he added, as +the desired result, from some cause, failed. + +"Certainly, we see it," smilingly whispered Annie to the next on her +seat. + +The sound reached Mr. Hall, already mortified by the failure of the +experiment. + +"Miss Hinton," he exclaimed, in a loud, stern tone, "take your books, +and go home." + +Annie looked surprised, as well she might, and waited, as if to be +sure she did not misunderstand him. The attention of the school was +roused--there could be no revocation--so the mandate was repeated, and +obeyed. + +Poor Hall! his chemical manipulations were no more successful that +day; classes were called, and heard at random. The small scholars +thought "it was a grand time--master did not seem to mind them;" while +older ones wondered at his unwonted humor. Meanwhile his reflections +were any thing but agreeable. How could he have been so harsh for such +a trifle, and ungentlemanly too. All Annie's faults were the mere +exuberance of a joyous spirit; and she was quick to acknowledge and +regret them; and yet he had not expostulated, but abruptly commanded +her to leave. How she must despise him! And she had a great deal of +sensibility; he had seen the color suffuse her face, and the tears +glisten in her dark eyes, when a tale of sorrow or delicious poem had +excited her emotion. Perhaps she was at that very moment weeping at +his harshness; and then proofs of interest in _him_, albeit she was a +laughter-loving spirit, stole over his memory. He thought of an +evening he had lately passed at her house, when his conversation +seemed to rivet her attention, although he afterward heard her say, +"There! Mary Jane has a party to-night, and I entirely forgot it until +too late. Well, I have enjoyed myself better here." And _he_, the +ingrate! how had he returned it, by unwarrantable rudeness! She was +just beginning to talk to him with confiding frankness of her books, +her tastes, and opening to _his_ study a mind as well worth it as the +changing loveliness of her face--when this folly had destroyed it all. +And what would the good minister say? He who had received him so +kindly; so hospitably told him to come to him at any and all times +when he could be of assistance--what would _he_ say to have his pet, +at once his amusement and pride, turned out of school like any common +urchin? + +Oh! how the hours of school dragged. Every moment seemed to bear a +weight of lead, and carry to the luckless teacher a thousand arrows +poisoned by self-reproach. No sooner was his fiat of release obtained, +than with mingled regret and apprehension, he wended his steps to the +parsonage. He knocked at the door, desired to see Mr. Hinton, and was +accordingly shown up into his study. + +"He looks as if something lay on his mind," thought the clergyman, as +he saw him enter, and advanced to shake hands with him. "Perhaps he is +considering the concerns of his soul. Heaven help me to counsel him +aright!" and there was an unusual kindliness in his tone, as he urged +him to be seated, which was "heaping coals of fire" on the head of the +conscience-stricken teacher. + +A pause. "I am--I have called--I regret--" + +"Ah, yes," mentally ejaculated the old man, "he feels the burden of +sin, and is under conviction, I see--" + +"In short, sir, I am sorry to trouble you at this time, but I--" + +"Speak out freely, my dear young man," said his benignant listener. + +Is it possible he does not know what has passed? + +"I regret to say that, vexed by the inattention of the scholars, and +by whispering, in which Miss Annie joined, I hastily told her to leave +school." + +"Told my daughter Annie to leave school!" + +The door of the study was thrown open, and Annie danced into the +middle of the room, her bonnet hanging on her arm, flowers in her +hair, and a bouquet in her hand, fresh from the woods in which she had +been rambling. "Father! father!" she stopped, and gazed first at her +father, and then at Mr. Hall, with a mingled expression of regret and +surprise. Her long walk that afternoon had given her a heightened +color; and the varied feelings which moved her were clearly depicted +on her face. + +"Come here, Annie," said Hall, extending his hand, "come here, and say +you forgive the rudeness of this afternoon." She hesitated an +instant--the crimson deepened on her cheek, and the lip slightly +trembled; then looking up with one of her own radiant smiles, she gave +her small, white hand to the teacher. + +Not long after he made another visit to the good minister's study, +not, indeed, to ask forgiveness for turning Annie out of school, but +to beg permission to transplant her one day to a home of his own. +Whatever was said, we suspect Annie might have served as "an instance +in point" for that rather broad generalization of Swift, + + "No girl is pleased with what is taught + But has _the teacher_ in her thought." + +"Young gentlemen," said Harvey Hall, (Judge Hall then,) when some +years afterward two or three of his law students were spending the +evening at his hospitable mansion, "young gentlemen, never regret the +necessity of exerting yourself in order to obtain your profession; for +beside the habit of _self-help_ thus formed, which is invaluable, you +may," he added, glancing archly at the face, fair as ever, of her who +sat with muslin stitchery by the centre-table, "meet with a wayside +rose as precious as Annie." + + + + +THE SUNBEAM. + +(FROM THE FRENCH OF LAMARTINE.) + + + Come! watch with me this sunbeam, as o'er the moss bank green + It glides, and enters swiftly the foliage dark between; + Resting its golden lever, of mystic length and line, + Upon the dewy herbage, in an oblique decline: + Toward its moving column the stamen of the flowers + Whirl, as by strong attraction; and through the daylight hours + Gay insects, azure atoms, with every-colored wing, + Swim 'mid the light, still lending fresh sparkles as they spring. + + See! how in cadenced measure they gravitate below, + Now linking, then unlinking, in quick, harmonious flow; + Of Plato's worlds ideal the semblance here appears, + Those worlds that danced in circles to the music of the spheres: + So small is every atom, amid yon countless band, + That hosts of them were needful to make a grain of sand; + They form the lowest step of that brilliant ladder trod, + Ascending from the light mote to the all-present God. + + And yet a separate being exists in every part, + Within each airy globule there dwells a beating heart; + One world, perchance, presiding o'er worlds unnumbered, free, + To which the lightning's passage is an eternity; + Yet, doubtless, each enjoying, within their drop of space, + Days, nights, in all fulfilling their order and their place; + And while in wondrous ecstasy, man's throbbing eye looks on, + A thousand worlds are ended, their destinies are won! + + O God! how vast the sources which feed such life and death, + How piercing is that vision which marks out every breath; + How infinite that Spirit which cherishes each grade; + And more than all, how boundless that love, free, unrepaid, + Which nurtures into being each particle that floats, + Descending from far sun-worlds to microscopic motes; + O God! so grand and awful in yonder little ray, + What thought dare seek to fathom the blaze of thy full day? + + MARY E. LEE. + + + + +THE ISLETS OF THE GULF; + +OR, ROSE BUDD. + + Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool + I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but + Travelers must be content. AS YOU LIKE IT. + +BY THE AUTHOR OF "PILOT," "RED ROVER," "TWO ADMIRALS," +"WING-AND-WING," "MILES WALLINGFORD," ETC. + + +[Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by J. +Fenimore Cooper, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the +United States, for the Northern District of New York.] + +(_Continued from page_ 293.) + + + + +PART XV. + + The screams of rage, the groan, the strife, + The blow, the grasp, the horrid cry, + The panting, throttled prayer for life, + The dying's heaving sigh, + The murderer's curse, the dead man's fixed, still glare, + And fear's and death's cold sweat--they all are there. + MATTHEW LEE. + + +It was high time that Capt. Spike should arrive when his foot touched +the bottom of the yawl. The men were getting impatient and anxious to +the last degree, and the power of Senor Montefalderon to control them +was lessening each instant. They heard the rending of timber, and the +grinding on the coral, even more distinctly than the captain himself, +and feared that the brig would break up while they lay alongside of +her, and crush them amid the ruins. Then the spray of the seas that +broke over the weather side of the brig, fell like rain upon them; and +every body in the boat was already as wet as if exposed to a violent +shower. It was well, therefore, for Spike that he descended into the +boat as he did, for another minute's delay might have brought about +his own destruction. + +Spike felt a chill at his heart when he looked about him and saw the +condition of the yawl. So crowded were the stern-sheets into which he +had descended, that it was with difficulty he found room to place his +feet; it being his intention to steer, Jack was ordered to get into +the eyes of the boat, in order to give him a seat. The thwarts were +crowded, and three or four of the people had placed themselves in the +very bottom of the little craft, in order to be as much as possible +out of the way, as well as in readiness to bail out water. So +seriously, indeed, were all the seamen impressed with the gravity of +this last duty, that nearly every man had taken with him some vessel +fit for such a purpose. Rowing was entirely out of the question, there +being no space for the movement of the arms. The yawl was too low in +the water, moreover, for such an operation in so heavy a sea. In all, +eighteen persons were squeezed into a little craft that would have +been sufficiently loaded, for moderate weather at sea, with its four +oarsmen and as many sitters in the stern-sheets, with, perhaps, one in +the eyes to bring her more on an even keel. In other words, she had +just twice the weight in her, in living freight, that it would have +been thought prudent to receive in so small a craft, in an ordinary +time, in or out of a port. In addition to the human beings enumerated, +there was a good deal of baggage, nearly every individual having had +the forethought to provide a few clothes for a change. The food and +water did not amount to much, no more having been provided than enough +for the purposes of the captain, together with the four men with whom +it had been his intention to abandon the brig. The effect of all this +cargo was to bring the yawl quite low in the water; and every +seafaring man in her had the greatest apprehensions about her being +able to float at all when she got out from under the lee of the Swash, +or into the troubled water. Try it she must, however, and Spike, in a +reluctant and hesitating manner, gave the final order to "Shove off!" + +The yawl carried a lugg, as is usually the case with boats at sea, and +the first blast of the breeze upon it satisfied Spike that his present +enterprise was one of the most dangerous of any in which he had ever +been engaged. The puffs of wind were quite as much as the boat would +bear; but this he did not mind, as he was running off before it, and +there was little danger of the yawl capsizing with such a weight in +her. It was also an advantage to have swift way on, to prevent the +combing waves from shooting into the boat, though the wind itself +scarce outstrips the send of the sea in a stiff blow. As the yawl +cleared the brig and began to feel the united power of the wind and +waves, the following short dialogue occurred between the boatswain and +Spike. + +"I dare not keep my eyes off the breakers ahead," the captain +commenced, "and must trust to you, Strand, to report what is going on +among the man-of-war's men. What is the ship about?" + +"Reefing her top-sails just now, sir. All three are on the caps, and +the vessel is laying-too, in a manner." + +"And her boats?" + +"I see none, sir--ay, ay, there they come from alongside of her in a +little fleet! There are four of them, sir, and all are coming down +before the wind, wing and wing, carrying their luggs reefed." + +"Ours ought to be reefed by rights, too, but we dare not stop to do +it; and these infernal combing seas seem ready to glance aboard us +with all the way we can gather. Stand by to bail, men; we must pass +through a strip of white water--there is no help for it. God send that +we go clear of the rocks!" + +All this was fearfully true. The adventurers were not yet more than a +cable's length from the brig, and they found themselves so completely +environed with the breakers as to be compelled to go through them. No +man in his senses would ever have come into such a place at all, +except in the most unavoidable circumstances; and it was with a +species of despair that the seamen of the yawl now saw their little +craft go plunging into the foam. + +But Spike neglected no precaution that experience or skill could +suggest. He had chosen his spot with coolness and judgment. As the +boat rose on the seas he looked eagerly ahead, and by giving it a +timely sheer, he hit a sort of channel, where there was sufficient +water to carry them clear of the rock, and where the breakers were +less dangerous than in the shoaler places. The passage lasted about a +minute; and so serious was it, that scarce an individual breathed +until it was effected. No human skill could prevent the water from +combing in over the gunwales; and when the danger was passed, the yawl +was a third filled with water. There was no time or place to pause, +but on the little craft was dragged almost gunwale to, the breeze +coming against the lugg in puffs that threatened to take the mast out +of her. All hands were bailing; and even Biddy used her hands to aid +in throwing out the water. + +"This is no time to hesitate, men," said Spike, sternly. "Every thing +must go overboard but the food and water. Away with them at once, and +with a will." + +It was a proof how completely all hands were alarmed by this, the +first experiment in the breakers, that not a man stayed his hand a +single moment, but each threw into the sea, without an instant of +hesitation, every article he had brought with him and had hoped to +save. Biddy parted with the carpet-bag, and Senor Montefalderon, +feeling the importance of example, committed to the deep a small +writing-desk that he had placed on his knees. The doubloons alone +remained, safe in a little locker where Spike had deposited them along +with his own. + +"What news astern, boatswain?" demanded the captain, as soon as this +imminent danger was passed, absolutely afraid to turn his eyes off the +dangers ahead for a single instant. "How come on the man-of-war's +men?" + +"They are running down in a body toward the wreck, though one of their +boats does seem to be sheering out of the line, as if getting into our +wake. It is hard to say, sir, for they are still a good bit to +windward of the wreck." + +"And the Molly, Strand?" + +"Why, sir, the Molly seems to be breaking up fast; as well as I can +see, she has broke in two just abaft the fore-chains, and cannot hold +together in any shape at all many minutes longer." + +This information drew a deep groan from Spike, and the eye of every +seaman in the boat was turned in melancholy on the object they were +so fast leaving behind them. The yawl could not be said to be sailing +very rapidly, considering the power of the wind, which was a little +gale, for she was much too deep for that; but she left the wreck so +fast as already to render objects on board her indistinct. Everybody +saw that, like an overburthened steed, she had more to get along with +than she could well bear; and, dependent as seamen usually are on the +judgment and orders of their superiors, even in the direst +emergencies, the least experienced man in her saw that their chances +of final escape from drowning were of the most doubtful nature. The +men looked at each other in a way to express their feelings; and the +moment seemed favorable to Spike to confer with his confidential +sea-dogs in private; but more white water was also ahead, and it was +necessary to pass through it, since no opening was visible by which to +avoid it. He deferred his purpose, consequently, until this danger was +escaped. + +On this occasion Spike saw but little opportunity to select a place to +get through the breakers, though the spot, as a whole, was not of the +most dangerous kind. The reader will understand that the preservation +of the boat at all, in white water, was owing to the circumstance that +the rocks all around it lay so near the surface of the sea as to +prevent the possibility of agitating the element very seriously, and +to the fact that she was near the lee side of the reef. Had the +breakers been of the magnitude of those which are seen where the deep +rolling billows of the ocean first meet the weather side of shoals or +rocks, a craft of that size, and so loaded, could not possibly have +passed the first line of white water without filling. As it was, +however, the breakers she had to contend with were sufficiently +formidable, and they brought with them the certainty that the boat was +in imminent danger of striking the bottom at any moment. Places like +those in which Mulford had waded on the reef, while it was calm, would +now have proved fatal to the strongest frame, since human powers were +insufficient long to withstand the force of such waves as did glance +over even these shallows. + +"Look out!" cried Spike, as the boat again plunged in among the white +water. "Keep bailing, men--keep bailing." + +The men did bail, and the danger was over almost as soon as +encountered. Something like a cheer burst out of the chest of Spike, +when he saw deeper water around him, and fancied he could now trace a +channel that would carry him quite beyond the extent of the reef. It +was arrested, only half uttered, however, by a communication from the +boatswain, who sat on a midship thwart, his arms folded, and his eye +on the brig and the boats. + +"There goes the Molly's masts, sir! Both have gone together; and as +good sticks was they, before them bomb-shells passed through our +rigging, as was ever stepped in a keelson." + +The cheer was changed to something like a groan, while a murmur of +regret passed through the boat. + +"What news from the man-of-war's men, boatswain? Do they still stand +down on a mere wreck?" + +"No, sir; they seem to give it up, and are getting out their oars to +pull back to their ship. A pretty time they'll have of it, too. The +cutter that gets to windward half a mile in an hour, ag'in such a sea, +and such a breeze, must be well pulled and better steered. One chap, +however, sir, seems to hold on." + +Spike now ventured to look behind him, commanding an experienced hand +to take the helm. In order to do this he was obliged to change places +with the man he had selected to come aft, which brought him on a +thwart alongside of the boatswain and one or two other of his +confidents. Here a whispered conference took place, which lasted +several minutes, Spike appearing to be giving instructions to the men. + +By this time the yawl was more than a mile from the wreck, all the +man-of-war boats but one had lowered their sails, and were pulling +slowly and with great labor back toward the ship, the cutter that kept +on, evidently laying her course after the yawl, instead of standing on +toward the wreck. The brig was breaking up fast, with every +probability that nothing would be left of her in a few more minutes. +As for the yawl, while clear of the white water, it got along without +receiving many seas aboard, though the men in its bottom were kept +bailing without intermission. It appeared to Spike that so long as +they remained on the reef, and could keep clear of breakers--a most +difficult thing, however--they should fare better than if in deeper +water, where the swell of the sea, and the combing of the waves, +menaced so small and so deep-loaded a craft with serious danger. As it +was, two or three men could barely keep the boat clear, working +incessantly, and much of the time with a foot or two of water in her. + +Josh and Simon had taken their seats, side by side, with that sort of +dependence and submission that causes the American black to abstain +from mingling with the whites more than might appear seemly. They were +squeezed on to one end of the thwart by a couple of robust old +sea-dogs, who were two of the very men with whom Spike had been in +consultation. Beneath that very thwart was stowed another confident, +to whom communications had also been made. These men had sailed long +in the Swash, and having been picked up in various ports, from time to +time, as the brig had wanted hands, they were of nearly as many +different nations as they were persons. Spike had obtained a great +ascendency over them by habit and authority, and his suggestions were +now received as a sort of law. As soon as the conference was ended, +the captain returned to the helm. + +A minute more passed, during which the captain was anxiously surveying +the reef ahead, and the state of things astern. Ahead was more white +water--the last before they should get clear of the reef; and astern +it was now settled that the cutter that held on through the dangers of +the place, was in chase of the yawl. That Mulford was in her Spike +made no doubt; and the thought embittered even his present calamities. +But the moment had arrived for something decided. The white water +ahead was much more formidable than any they had passed; and the +boldest seaman there gazed at it with dread. Spike made a sign to the +boatswain, and commenced the execution of his dire project. + +"I say, you Josh," called out the captain, in the authoritative tones +that are so familiar to all on board a ship, "pull in that fender that +is dragging alongside." + +Josh leaned over the gunwale, and reported that there was no fender +out. A malediction followed, also so familiar to those acquainted with +ships, and the black was told to look again. This time, as had been +expected, the negro leaned with his head and body far over the side of +the yawl, to look for that which had no existence, when two of the men +beneath the thwart shoved _his_ legs after them. Josh screamed, as he +found himself going into the water, with a sort of confused +consciousness of the truth; and Spike called out to Simon to "catch +hold of his brother-nigger." The cook bent forward to obey, when a +similar assault on _his_ legs from beneath the thwart, sent him +headlong after Josh. One of the younger seamen, who was not in the +secret, sprang up to rescue Simon, who grasped his extended hand, when +the too generous fellow was pitched headlong from the boat. + +All this occurred in less than ten seconds of time, and so +unexpectedly and naturally, that not a soul beyond those who were in +the secret, had the least suspicion it was any thing but an accident. +Some water was shipped, of necessity, but the boat was soon bailed +free. As for the victims of this vile conspiracy, they disappeared +amid the troubled waters of the reef, struggling with each other. Each +and all met the common fate so much the sooner, from the manner in +which they impeded their own efforts. + +The yawl was now relieved from about five hundred pounds of the weight +it had carried--Simon weighing two hundred alone, and the youngish +seaman being large and full. So intense does human selfishness get to +be, in moments of great emergency, that it is to be feared most of +those who remained, secretly rejoiced that they were so far benefitted +by the loss of their fellows. The Senor Montefalderon was seated on +the aftermost thwart, with his legs in the stern-sheets, and +consequently with his back toward the negroes, and he fully believed +that what had happened was purely accidental. + +"Let us lower our sail, Don Esteban," he cried, eagerly, "and save the +poor fellows." + +Something very like a sneer gleamed on the dark countenance of the +captain, but it suddenly changed to a look of assent. + +"Good!" he said, hastily--"spring forward, Don Wan, and lower the +sail--stand by the oars, men!" + +Without pausing to reflect, the generous-hearted Mexican stepped on a +thwart, and began to walk rapidly forward, steadying himself by +placing his hands on the heads of the men. He was suffered to get as +far as the second thwart, or past most of the conspirators, when his +legs were seized from behind. The truth now flashed on him, and +grasping two of the men in his front, who knew nothing of Spike's dire +scheme, he endeavored to save himself by holding to their jackets. +Thus assailed, those men seized others with like intent, and an awful +struggle filled all that part of the craft. At this dread instant the +boat glanced into the white water, shipping so much of the element as +nearly to swamp her, and taking so wild a sheer as nearly to +broach-to. This last circumstance probably saved her, fearful as was +the danger for the moment. Everybody in the middle of the yawl was +rendered desperate by the amount and nature of the danger incurred, +and the men from the bottom rose in their might, underneath the +combatants, when a common plunge was made by all who stood erect, one +dragging overboard another, each a good deal hastened by the assault +from beneath, until no less than five were gone. Spike got his helm +up, the boat fell off, and away from the spot it flew, clearing the +breakers, and reaching the northern wall-like margin of the reef at +the next instant. There was now a moment when those who remained could +breathe, and dared to look behind them. + +The great plunge had been made in water so shoal, that the boat had +barely escaped being dashed to pieces on the coral. Had it not been so +suddenly relieved from the pressure of near a thousand pounds in +weight, it is probable that this calamity would have befallen it, the +water received on board contributing so much to weigh it down. The +struggle between these victims ceased, however, the moment they went +over. Finding bottom for their feet, they released each other, in a +desperate hope of prolonging life by wading. Two or three held out +their arms, and shouted to Spike to return and pick them up. This +dreadful scene lasted but a single instant, for the waves dashed one +after another from his feet, continually forcing them all, as they +occasionally regained their footing, toward the margin of the reef, +and finally washing them off it into deep water. No human power could +enable a man to swim back to the rocks, once to leeward of them, in +the face of such seas, and so heavy a blow; and the miserable wretches +disappeared in succession, as their strength became exhausted, in the +depths of the gulf. + +Not a word had been uttered while this terrific scene was in the +course of occurrence; not a word was uttered for some time afterward. +Gleams of grim satisfaction had been seen on the countenances of the +boatswain, and his associates, when the success of their nefarious +project was first assured; but they soon disappeared in looks of +horror, as they witnessed the struggles of the drowning men. +Nevertheless, human selfishness was strong within them all, and none +there was so ignorant as not to perceive how much better were the +chances of the yawl now than it had been on quitting the wreck. The +weight of a large ox had been taken from it, counting that of all the +eight men drowned; and as for the water shipped, it was soon bailed +back again into the sea. Not only, therefore, was the yawl in a better +condition to resist the waves, but it sailed materially faster than it +had done before. Ten persons still remained in it, however, which +brought it down in the water below its proper load-line; and the speed +of a craft so small was necessarily a good deal lessened by the least +deviation from its best sailing, or rowing trim. But Spike's projects +were not yet completed. + +All this time the man-of-war's cutter had been rushing as madly +through the breakers, in chase, as the yawl had done in the attempt to +escape. Mulford was, in fact, on board it; and his now fast friend, +Wallace, was in command. The latter wished to seize a traitor, the +former to save the aunt of his weeping bride. Both believed that they +might follow wherever Spike dared to lead. This reasoning was more +bold than judicious notwithstanding, since the cutter was much larger, +and drew twice as much water as the yawl. On it came, nevertheless, +faring much better in the white water than the little craft it +pursued, but necessarily running a much more considerable risk of +hitting the coral, over which it was glancing almost as swiftly as the +waves themselves; still it had thus far escaped--and little did any in +it think of the danger. This cutter pulled ten oars; was an excellent +sea boat; had four armed marines in it, in addition to its crew, but +carried all through the breakers, receiving scarcely a drop of water +on board, on account of the height of its wash-boards, and the general +qualities of the craft. It may be well to add here, that the +Poughkeepsie had shaken out her reefs, and was betraying the +impatience of Capt. Mull to make sail in chase, by firing signal guns +to his boats to bear a hand and return. These signals the three boats +under their oars were endeavoring to obey, but Wallace had got so far +to leeward as now to render the course he was pursuing the wisest. + +Mrs. Budd and Biddy had seen the struggle in which the Senor +Montefalderon had been lost, in a sort of stupid horror. Both had +screamed, as was their wont, though neither probably suspected the +truth. But the fell designs of Spike extended to them, as well as to +those whom he had already destroyed. Now the boat was in deep water, +running along the margin of the reef, the waves were much increased in +magnitude, and the comb of the sea was far more menacing to the boat. +This would not have been the case had the rocks formed a lee; but they +did not, running too near the direction of the trades to prevent the +billows that got up a mile or so in the offing, from sending their +swell quite home to the reef. It was this swell, indeed, which caused +the line of white water along the northern margin of the coral, +washing on the rocks by a sort of lateral effort, and breaking, as a +matter of course. In many places no boat could have lived to pass +through it. + +Another consideration influenced Spike to persevere. The cutter had +been overhauling him, hand over hand, but since the yawl was relieved +of the weight of no less than eight men, the difference in the rate of +sailing was manifestly diminished. The man-of-war's boat drew nearer, +but by no means as fast as it had previously done. A point was now +reached in the trim of the yawl, when a very few hundreds in weight +might make the most important change in her favor; and this change the +captain was determined to produce. By this time the cutter was in deep +water, as well as himself, safe through all the dangers of the reef, +and she was less than a quarter of a mile astern. On the whole, she +was gaining, though so slowly as to require the most experienced eye +to ascertain the fact. + +"Madame Budd," said Spike, in a hypocritical tone, "we are in great +danger, and I shall have to ask you to change your seat. The boat is +too much by the starn, now we've got into deep water, and your weight +amidships would be a great relief to us. Just give your hand to the +boatswain, and he will help you to step from thwart to thwart, until +you reach the right place, when Biddy shall follow." + +Now Mrs. Budd had witnessed the tremendous struggle in which so many +had gone overboard, but so dull was she of apprehension, and so little +disposed to suspect any thing one-half so monstrous as the truth, that +she did not hesitate to comply. She was profoundly awed by the horrors +of the scene through which she was passing, the raging billows of the +gulf, as seen from so small a craft, producing a deep impression on +her; still a lingering of her most inveterate affectation was to be +found in her air and language, which presented a strange medley of +besetting weakness, and strong, natural, womanly affection. + +"Certainly, Capt. Spike," she answered, rising. "A craft should never +go astern, and I am quite willing to ballast the boat. We have seen +such terrible accidents to-day, that all should lend their aid in +endeavoring to get under way, and in averting all possible hamper. +Only take me to my poor, dear Rosy, Capt. Spike, and every thing shall +be forgotten that has passed between us. This is not a moment to bear +malice; and I freely pardon you all and every thing. The fate of our +unfortunate friend, Mr. Montefalderon, should teach us charity, and +cause us to prepare for untimely ends." + +All the time the good widow was making this speech, which she uttered +in a solemn and oracular sort of manner, she was moving slowly toward +the seat the men had prepared for her, in the middle of the boat, +assisted with the greatest care and attention by the boatswain and +another of Spike's confidents. When on the second thwart from aft, and +about to take her seat, the boatswain cast a look behind him, and +Spike put the helm down. The boat luffed and lurched, of course, and +Mrs. Budd would probably have gone overboard to leeward, by so sudden +and violent a change, had not the impetus thus received been aided by +the arms of the men who held her two hands. The plunge she made into +the water was deep, for she was a woman of great weight for her +stature. Still, she was not immediately gotten rid of. Even at that +dread instant, it is probable that the miserable woman did not suspect +the truth, for she grasped the hand of the boatswain with the tenacity +of a vice, and, thus dragged on the surface of the boiling surges, she +screamed aloud for Spike to save her. Of all who had yet been +sacrificed to the captain's selfish wish to save himself, this was the +first instance in which any had been heard to utter a sound, after +falling into the sea. The appeal shocked even the rude beings around +her, and Biddy chiming in with a powerful appeal to "save the missus!" +added to the piteous nature of the scene. + +"Cast off her hand," said Spike reproachfully, "she'll swamp the boat +by her struggles--get rid of her at once! Cut her fingers off if she +wont let go." + +The instant these brutal orders were given, and that in a fierce, +impatient tone, the voice of Biddy was heard no more. The truth forced +itself on her dull imagination, and she sat a witness of the terrible +scene, in mute despair. The struggle did not last long. The boatswain +drew his knife across the wrist of the hand that grasped his own, one +shriek was heard, and the boat plunged into the trough of a sea, +leaving the form of poor Mrs. Budd struggling with the wave on its +summit, and amid the foam of its crest. This was the last that was +ever seen of the unfortunate relict. + +"The boat has gained a good deal by that last discharge of cargo," +said Spike to the boatswain, a minute after they had gotten rid of the +struggling woman--"she is much more lively, and is getting nearer to +her load-line. If we can bring her to _that_, I shall have no fear of +the man-of-war's men; for this yawl is one of the fastest boats that +ever floated." + +"A very little _now_, sir, would bring us to our true trim." + +"Ay, we must get rid of more cargo. Come, good woman," turning to +Biddy, with whom he did not think it worth his while to use much +circumlocution, "_your_ turn is next. It's the maid's duty to follow +her mistress." + +"I know'd it _must_ come," said Biddy, meekly. "If there was no mercy +for the missus, little could I look for. But ye'll not take the life +of a Christian woman widout giving her so much as one minute to say +her prayers?" + +"Ay, pray away," answered Spike, his throat becoming dry and husky, +for, strange to say, the submissive quiet of the Irish woman, so +different from the struggle he had anticipated with _her_, rendered +him more reluctant to proceed than he had hitherto been in all of that +terrible day. As Biddy kneeled in the bottom of the stern-sheets, +Spike looked behind him, for the double purpose of escaping the +painful spectacle at his feet, and that of ascertaining how his +pursuers came on. The last still gained, though very slowly, and +doubts began to come over the captain's mind whether he could escape +such enemies at all. He was too deeply committed, however, to recede, +and it was most desirable to get rid of poor Biddy, if it were for no +other motive than to shut her mouth. Spike even fancied that some idea +of what had passed was entertained by those in the cutter. There was +evidently a stir in that boat, and two forms that he had no +difficulty, now, in recognizing as those of Wallace and Mulford, were +standing on the grating in the eyes of the cutter, or forward of the +foresail. The former appeared to have a musket in his hand, and the +other a glass. The last circumstance admonished him that all that was +now done would be done before dangerous witnesses. It was too late to +draw back, however, and the captain turned to look for the Irish +woman. + +Biddy arose from her knees, just as Spike withdrew his eyes from his +pursuers. The boatswain and another confident were in readiness to +cast the poor creature into the sea, the moment their leader gave the +signal. The intended victim saw and understood the arrangement, and +she spoke earnestly and piteously to her murderers. + +"It's not wanting will be violence," said Biddy, in a quiet tone, but +with a saddened countenance. "I know it's my turn, and I will save yer +sowls from a part of the burden of this great sin. God, and His Divine +Son, and the Blessed Mother of Jesus have mercy on me if it be wrong; +but I would far radder jump into the saa widout having the rude hands +of man on me, than have the dreadful sight of the missus done over +ag'in. It's a fearful thing is wather, and sometimes we have too +little of it, and sometimes more than we want--" + +"Bear a hand, bear a hand, good woman," interrupted the boatswain, +impatiently. "We must clear the boat of you, and the sooner it is done +the better it will be for all of us." + +"Don't grudge a poor morthal half a minute of life, at the last +moment," answered Biddy. "It's not long that I'll throuble ye, and so +no more need be said." + +The poor creature then got on the quarter of the boat, without any +one's touching her; there she placed herself with her legs outboard, +while she sat on the gunwale. She gave one moment to the thought of +arranging her clothes with womanly decency, and then she paused to +gaze with a fixed eye, and pallid cheek, on the foaming wake that +marked the rapid course of the boat. The troughs of the sea seemed +less terrible to her than their combing crests, and she waited for the +boat to descend into the next. + +"God forgive ye all, this deed, as I do!" said Biddy, earnestly, and +bending her person forward, she fell, as it might be "without hands," +into the gulf of eternity. Though all strained their eyes, none of the +men, Jack Tier excepted, ever saw more of Biddy Noon. Nor did Jack see +much. He got a frightful glimpse of an arm, however, on the summit of +a wave, but the motion of the boat was too swift, and the surface of +the ocean too troubled, to admit of aught else. + +A long pause succeeded this event. Biddy's quiet submission to her +fate had produced more impression on her murderers than the desperate, +but unavailing, struggles of those who had preceded her. Thus it is +ever with men. When opposed, the demon within blinds them to +consequences as well as to their duties; but, unresisted, the silent +influence of the image of God makes itself felt, and a better spirit +begins to prevail. There was not one in that boat who did not, for a +brief space, wish that poor Biddy had been spared. With most that +feeling, the last of human kindness they ever knew, lingered until the +occurrence of the dread catastrophe which, so shortly after, closed +the scene of this state of being on their eyes. + +"Jack Tier," called out Spike, some five minutes after Biddy was +drowned, but not until another observation had made it plainly +apparent to him that the man-of-war's men still continued to draw +nearer, being now not more than fair musket shot astern. + +"Ay, ay, sir," answered Jack, coming quietly out of his hole, from +forward of the mast, and moving aft as if indifferent to the danger, +by stepping lightly from thwart to thwart, until he reached the +stern-sheets. + +"It is your turn, little Jack," said Spike, as if in a sort of +sorrowful submission to a necessity that knew no law, "we cannot spare +you the room." + +"I have expected this, and am ready. Let me have my own way, and I +will cause you no trouble. Poor Biddy has taught me how to die. Before +I go, however, Stephen Spike, I must leave you this letter. It is +written by myself, and addressed to you. When I am gone, read it, and +think well of what it contains. And now, may a merciful God pardon the +sins of both, through love for his Divine Son. I forgive you, Stephen; +and should you live to escape from those who are now bent on hunting +you to the death, let this day cause you no grief on my account. Give +me but a moment of time, and I will cause you no trouble." + +Jack now stood upon the seat of the stern-sheets, balancing himself +with one foot on the stern of the boat. He waited until the yawl had +risen to the summit of a wave, when he looked eagerly for the +man-of-war's cutter. At that moment she was lost to view in the trough +of the sea. Instead of springing overboard, as all expected, he asked +another instant of delay. The yawl sunk into the trough itself, and +rose on the succeeding billow. Then he saw the cutter, and Wallace and +Mulford standing in its bows. He waved his hat to them, and sprang +high into the air, with the intent to make himself seen; when he came +down, the boat had shot her length away from the place, leaving him to +buffet with the waves. Jack now managed admirably, swimming lightly +and easily, but keeping his eyes on the crests of the waves, with a +view to meet the cutter. Spike now saw this well planned project to +avoid death, and regretted his own remissness in not making sure of +Jack. Everybody in the yawl was eagerly looking after the form of +Tier. + +"There he is on the comb of that sea, rolling over like a keg!" cried +the boatswain. + +"He's through it," answered Spike, "and swimming with great strength +and coolness." + +Several of the men started up involuntarily and simultaneously to +look, hitting their shoulders and bodies together. Distrust was at its +most painful height; and bull-dogs do not spring at the ox's muzzle +more fiercely than those six men throttled each other. Oaths, curses, +and appeals for help, succeeded; each man endeavoring, in his frenzied +efforts, to throw all the others overboard, as the only means of +saving himself. Plunge succeeded plunge; and when that combat of +demons ended, no one remained of them all but the boatswain. Spike had +taken no share in the struggle, looking on in grim satisfaction, as +the Father of Lies may be supposed to regard all human strife, hoping +good to himself, let the result be what it might to others. Of the +five men who thus went overboard, not one escaped. They drowned each +other by continuing their maddened conflict in an element unsuited to +their natures. + +Not so with Jack Tier. His leap had been seen, and a dozen eyes in the +cutter watched for his person, as that boat came foaming down before +the wind. A shout of "There he is!" from Mulford succeeded; and the +little fellow was caught by the hair, secured, and then hauled into +the boat by the second lieutenant of the Poughkeepsie and our young +mate. + +Others in the cutter had noted the incident of the hellish fight. The +fact was communicated to Wallace, and Mulford said, "That yawl will +outsail this loaded cutter, with only two men in it." + +"Then it is time to try what virtue there is in lead," answered +Wallace. "Marines, come forward, and give the rascal a volley." + +The volley was fired; one ball passed through the head of the +boatswain, killing him dead on the spot. Another went through the +body of Spike. The captain fell in the stern-sheets, and the boat +instantly broached to. + +The water that came on board apprised Spike fully of the state in +which he was now placed, and by a desperate effort, he clutched the +tiller, and got the yawl again before the wind. This could not last, +however. Little by little, his hold relaxed, until his hand +relinquished its grasp altogether, and the wounded man sunk into the +bottom of the stern-sheets, unable to raise even his head. Again the +boat broached-to. Every sea now sent its water aboard, and the yawl +would soon have filled, had not the cutter come glancing down past it, +and rounding-to under its lee, secured the prize. + +[_To be continued._ + + + + +THE LAND OF DREAMS. + +BY WILLIAM C. BRYANT. + + + A mighty realm is the Land of Dreams, + With steeps that hang in the twilight sky, + And weltering oceans and trailing streams + That gleam where the dusky valleys lie. + + But over its shadowy border flow + Sweet rays from the world of endless morn, + And the nearer mountains catch the glow, + And flowers in the nearer fields are born. + + The souls of the happy dead repair, + From their bowers of light, to that bordering land, + And walk in the fainter glory there, + With the souls of the living, hand in hand. + + One calm sweet smile in that shadowy sphere, + From eyes that open on earth no more-- + One warning word from a voice once dear-- + How they rise in the memory o'er and o'er! + + Far off from those hills that shine with day, + And fields that bloom in the heavenly gales, + The Land of Dreams goes stretching away + To dimmer mountains and darker vales. + + There lie the chambers of guilty delight, + There walk the spectres of guilty fear, + And soft low voices that float through the night + Are whispering sin in the helpless ear. + + Dear maids, in thy girlhood's opening flower, + Scarce weaned from the love of childish play! + The tears on whose cheeks are but the shower + That freshens the early blooms of May! + + Thine eyes are closed, and over thy brow + Pass thoughtful shadows and joyous gleams, + And I know, by the moving lips, that now + Thy spirit strays in the Land of Dreams. + + Light-hearted maiden, oh, heed thy feet! + Oh keep where that beam of Paradise falls; + And only wander where thou may'st meet + The blessed ones from its shining walls. + + So shalt thou come from the Land of Dreams, + With love and peace, to this world of strife; + And the light that over that border streams + Shall lie on the path of thy daily life. + + + + +SONNET--TO S. D. A. + +BY "THE SQUIRE." + + + When the young Morning, like a new-drest bride, + With pearls of dew fresh glistening in her hair, + Walks through the east in early summer-tide. + Her robe loose floating on the scented air, + The laughing hours assembled at her side + Or circling round her--then is she less fair + Than, in my heart, the picture, sweet and rare, + Thy presence left.--My books go unperused, + Old friends are shunned, and time flies by unused, + While I, grown idle, nothing do but dream; + Gazing upon that picture till I seem + _Thyself_, again, before my eyes to see, + And not the ideal show: so that to me + The semblance turns to sweet reality. + + +[Illustration +_Engraved by T. S. WELCH. FOR GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE_ +_FROM AN ORIGINAL DAGUERREOTYPE_] + +_Entered according to act of Congress in the Year 1847 by G.R. Graham +in the Clerks Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of +P^a._ + + + + +BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH + +OF GENERAL WILLIAM O. BUTLER. + +BY FRANCIS P. BLAIR. + + +In memoirs of individuals of distinction it is usual to look back to +their ancestry. The feeling is universal which prompts us to learn +something of even an ordinary acquaintance in whom interest is felt. +It will indulge, therefore, only a necessary and proper curiosity to +introduce the subject of this notice by a short account of a family +whose striking traits survive in him so remarkably. General Butler's +grandfather, Thomas Butler, was born 6th April, 1720, in Kilkenny, +Ireland. He married there in 1742. Three of his five sons who attained +manhood, Richard, William and Thomas, were born abroad. Pierce, the +father of General William O. Butler, and Edward, the youngest son, +were born in Pennsylvania. It is remarkable that all these men, and +all their immediate male descendants, with a single exception, (who +was a judge,) were engaged in the military service of this country. + +The eldest, Richard, was Lieut. Col. of Morgan's celebrated +rifle-regiment, and to him it owed much of the high character that +gave it a fame of its own, apart from the other corps of the +Revolution. The cool, disciplined valor which gave steady and deadly +direction to the rifles of this regiment, was derived principally from +this officer, who devoted himself to the drill of his men. He was +promoted to the full command of his regiment sometime during the war, +(when Morgan's great merit and services had raised him to the rank of +general,) and in that capacity had commanded Wayne's left in the +attack on Stony Point. About the year 1790, he was appointed +major-general. On the 4th of November, 1791, he was killed in St. +Clair's bloody battle with the Indians. His combat with the Indians, +after he was shot, gave such a peculiar interest to his fate that a +representation of himself and the group surrounding him was exhibited +throughout the Union in wax figures. Notices of this accomplished +soldier will be found in Marshall's Life of Washington, pages 290, +311, 420. In Gen. St. Clair's report, in the American Museum, volume +xi. page 44, Appendix. + +William Butler, the second son, was an officer throughout the +revolutionary war; rose to the rank of colonel, and was in many of the +severest battles. He was the favorite of the family, and was boasted +of by this race of heroes as the coolest and boldest man in battle +they had ever known. When the army was greatly reduced in rank and +file, and there were many superfluous officers, they organized +themselves into a separate corps, and elected him to the command. +General Washington declined receiving this novel corps of +commissioned soldiers, but in a proud testimonial did honor to their +devoted patriotism. + +Of Thomas Butler, the third son, we glean the following facts from the +American Biographical Dictionary. In the year 1776, whilst he was a +student of law in the office of the eminent Judge Wilson of +Philadelphia, he left his pursuit and joined the army as a subaltern. +He soon obtained the command of a company, in which he continued to +the close of the revolutionary war. He was in almost every action +fought in the Middle States during the war. At the battle of +Brandywine he received the thanks of Washington on the field of +battle, through his aid-de-camp Gen. Hamilton, for his intrepid +conduct in rallying a detachment of retreating troops, and giving the +enemy a severe fire. At the battle of Monmouth he received the thanks +of Gen. Wayne for defending a defile, in the face of a severe fire +from the enemy, while Col. Richard Butler's regiment made good its +retreat. At the close of the war he retired into private life, as a +farmer, and continued in the enjoyment of rural and domestic happiness +until the year 1791, when he again took the field to meet the savage +foe that menaced our western frontier. He commanded a battalion in the +disastrous battle of Nov. 4, 1791, in which his brother fell. Orders +were given by Gen. St. Clair to charge with the bayonet, and Major +Butler, though his leg had been broken by a ball, yet on horseback, +led his battalion to the charge. It was with difficulty his surviving +brother, Capt. Edward Butler, removed him from the field. In 1792 he +was continued in the establishment as major, and in 1794 he was +promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel commandant of the 4th +sub-legion. He commanded in this year Fort Fayette, at Pittsburg, and +prevented the deluded insurgents from taking it, more by his name than +by his forces, for he had but few troops. The close of his life was +embittered with trouble. In 1803 he was arrested by the commanding +general--Wilkinson--at Fort Adams, on the Mississippi, and sent to +Maryland, where he was tried by a court-martial, and acquitted of all +the charges, save that of _wearing his hair_. He was then ordered to +New Orleans, where he arrived, to take command of the troops, October +20th. He was again arrested next month; but the court did not sit +until July of the next year, and their decision is not known. Col. +Butler died Sept. 7, 1805. Out of the arrest and persecution of this +sturdy veteran, Washington Irving (Knickerbocker) has worked up a fine +piece of burlesque, in which Gen. Wilkinson's character is inimitably +delineated in that of the vain and pompous Gen. Von Poffenburg. + +Percival Butler, the fourth son, father of General Wm. O. Butler, was +born at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in 1760. He entered the army as a +lieutenant at the age of eighteen; was with Washington at Valley +Forge; was in the battle of Monmouth, and at the taking of +Yorktown--being through the whole series of struggles in the Middle +States, with the troops under the commander-in-chief, except for a +short period when he was attached to a light corps commanded by La +Fayette, who presented him a sword. Near the close of the war he went +to the South with the Pennsylvania brigade, where peace found him. He +emigrated to Kentucky in 1784. He was the last of the old stock left +when the war of 1812 commenced. He was made adjutant-general when +Kentucky became a State, and in that capacity joined one of the armies +sent out by Kentucky during the war. + +Edward Butler, the youngest of the five brothers, was too young to +enter the army in the first stages of the Revolution, but joined it +near the close, and had risen to a captaincy when Gen. St. Clair took +the command, and led it to that disastrous defeat in which so many of +the best soldiers of the country perished. He there evinced the +highest courage and strongest fraternal affection, in carrying his +wounded brother out of the massacre, which was continued for miles +along the route of the retreating army, and from which so few escaped, +even of those who fled unencumbered. He subsequently became +adjutant-general in Wayne's army. + +Of these five brothers four had sons--all of whom, with one exception, +were engaged in the military or naval service of the country during +the last war. + +1st. General Richard Butler's son, William, died a lieutenant in the +navy, early in the last war. His son, Captain James Butler, was at the +head of the Pittsburg Blues, which company he commanded in the +campaigns of the Northwest, and was particularly distinguished in the +battle of Massissinnawa. + +2d. Colonel William Butler, also of the revolutionary army, had two +sons, one died in the navy, the other a subaltern in Wayne's army. He +was in the battle with the Indians in 1794. + +3d. Lieut. Col. Thomas Butler, of the old stock, had three sons, the +eldest a judge. The second, Col. Robert Butler, was at the head of +Gen. Jackson's staff throughout the last war. The third, William E. +Butler, also served in the army of Gen. Jackson. + +4th. Percival Butler, captain in the revolutionary war, and +adjutant-general of Kentucky during the last war, had four sons: +first, Thomas, who was a captain, and aid to Gen. Jackson at New +Orleans. Next, Gen. William O. Butler, the subject of this notice. +Third, Richard, who was assistant adjutant-general in the campaigns of +the war of 1812. Percival Butler, the youngest son, now a +distinguished lawyer, was not of an age to bear arms in the last war. +Of this second generation of the Butler's, there are nine certainly, +and probably more, engaged in the present war. + +This glance at the family shows the character of the race. An +anecdote, derived from a letter of an old Pennsylvania friend to the +parents, who transplanted it from Ireland, shows that its military +instinct was an inheritance. "While the five sons," says the letter, +"were absent from home in the service of the country, the old father +took it in his head to go also. The neighbors collected to remonstrate +against it; but his wife said, 'Let him go! I can get along without +him, and raise something to feed the army in the bargain; and the +country wants every man who can shoulder a musket.'" It was doubtless +this extraordinary zeal of the Butler family which induced Gen. +Washington to give the toast--"The Butlers, and their five sons," at +his own table, whilst surrounded by a large party of officers. This +anecdote rests on the authority of the late Gen. Findlay, of +Cincinnati. A similar tribute of respect was paid to this devoted +house of soldiers by Gen. La Fayette, in a letter now extant, and in +the possession of a lady connected with them by marriage. La Fayette +says, "_When I wanted a thing well done, I ordered a Butler to do +it._" + +From this retrospect it will be seen that in all the wars of the +country, in the revolutionary war, in the Indian war, in the last +British war, and the present Mexican war, the blood of almost every +Butler able to bear arms has been freely shed in the public cause. +Maj. Gen. William O. Butler is now among the highest in the military +service of his country; and he has attained this grade from the +ranks--the position of a private being the only one he ever sought. At +the opening of the war of 1812, he had just graduated in the +Transylvania University, and was looking to the law as a profession. +The surrender of Detroit, and the army by Hull, aroused the patriotism +and the valor of Kentucky--and young Butler, yet in his minority, was +among the first to volunteer. He gave up his books, and the enjoyments +of the gay and polished society of Lexington, where he lived among a +circle of fond and partial relations--the hope to gratify their +ambition in shining at the bar, or in the political forum of the +state--to join Capt. Hart's company of infantry as a private soldier. + +Before the march to join the northwestern army, he was elected a +corporal. In this grade he marched to the relief of Fort Wayne, which +was invested by hostile Indians. These were driven before the Kentucky +volunteers to their towns on the Wabash, which were destroyed, and the +troops then returned to the Miami of the lakes, where they made a +winter encampment. Here an ensign's commission in the second regiment +of United States infantry was tendered to the volunteer corporal, +which he declined, unless permitted to remain with the northwestern +army, which he had entered to share in the effort of the Kentucky +militia to wipe out the disgrace of Hull's surrender by the recapture +of Detroit. His proposition was assented to, and he received an +ensign's appointment in the seventeenth infantry, then a part of the +northwestern army, under the command of Gen. Winchester. After +enduring every privation in a winter encampment, in the wildernesses +and frozen marshes of the lake country, awaiting in vain the expected +support of additional forces, the Kentucky volunteers, led by Lewis, +Allen, and Madison, with Well's regiment, (17th U. S.) advanced to +encounter the force of British and Indians which defended Detroit. On +leaving Kentucky the volunteers had pledged themselves to drive the +British invaders from our soil. These men and their leaders were held +in such estimation at home, that the expectation formed of them +exceeded their promises; and these volunteers, though disappointed in +every succor which they had reason to anticipate--wanting in +provision, clothes, cannon, in every thing--resolved, rather than lose +reputation, to press on to the enterprise, and to endeavor to draw on +to them, by entering into action, the troops behind. It is not proper +here to enter into explanations of the causes of the disaster at the +River Raisin, the consequence of this movement, nor to give the +particulars of the battle. The incidents which signalized the +character of the subject of this memoir alone are proper here. + +There were two battles at the River Raisin, one on the 18th, the other +on the 22d of January. In the first, the whole body of Indian +warriors, drawn together from all the lake tribes, for the defence of +Upper Canada against the approaching Kentuckians, were encountered. In +moving to the attack of this formidable force of the fiercest, and +bravest, and most expert warriors on the continent, a strong party of +them were descried from the line with which Ensign Butler advanced, +running forward to reach a fence, and hold it as a cover from which to +ply their rifles. Butler instantly proposed, and was permitted, to +anticipate them. Calling upon some of the most alert and active men of +the company, he ran directly to meet the Indians at the fence. He and +his comrades out-stripped the enemy, and getting possession of the +fence, kept the advantage of the position for their advancing friends. +This incident, of however little importance as to results, is worth +remembrance in giving the traits of a young soldier's character. It is +said that the hardiest veteran, at the opening of the fire in battle, +feels, for the moment, somewhat appalled. And Gen. Wolfe, one of the +bravest of men, declared that the "horrid yell of the Indian strikes +the boldest heart with affright." The strippling student, who, for the +first time, beheld a field of battle on the snows of the River Raisin, +presenting in bold relief long files of those terrible enemies, whose +massacres had filled his native State with tales of horror, must have +felt some stirring sensations. But the crack of the Indian rifle, and +his savage yell, awoke in him the chivalric instincts of his nature; +and the promptitude with which he communicated his enthusiasm to a few +comrades around, and rushed forward to meet danger in its most +appalling form, risking himself to save others, and secure a triumph +which he could scarcely hope to share, gave earnest of the military +talent, the self-sacrificing courage, and the soldierly sympathies +which have drawn to him the nation's esteem. The close of the battle +of the 18th gave another instance in which these latter traits of Gen. +Butler's character were still more strikingly illustrated. The +Indians, driven from the defences around the town on the River Raisin, +retired fighting into the thick woods beyond it. The contest of +sharp-shooting from tree to tree was here continued--the Kentuckians +pressing forward, and the Indians retreating, until night closed in, +when the Kentuckians were recalled to the encampment in the village. +The Indians advanced as their opposers withdrew, and kept up the fire +until the Kentuckians emerged from the woods into the open ground. +Just as the column to which Ensign Butler belonged reached the verge +of the dark forest, the voice of a wounded man, who had been left some +distance behind, was heard calling out most piteously for help. Butler +induced three of his company to go back in the woods with him to bring +him off. He was found, and they fought their way back--one of the men, +Jeremiah Walker, receiving a shot, of which he subsequently died. + +In the second sanguinary battle of the River Raisin, on the 22d of +January, with the British and Indians, another act of self-devotion +was performed by Butler. After the rout and massacre of the right +wing, belonging to Wells' command, the whole force of the British and +Indians was concentrated against the small body of troops under Major +Madison, that maintained their ground within the picketed gardens. A +double barn, commanding the plot of ground on which the Kentuckians +stood, was approached on one side by the Indians, under the cover of +an orchard and fence; the British, on the other side, being so posted +as to command the space between it and the pickets. A party in the +rear of the barn were discovered advancing to take possession of it. +All saw the fatal consequences of the secure lodgment of the enemy at +a place which would present every man within the pickets at close +rifle-shot to the aim of their marksmen. Major Madison inquired if +there was no one who would volunteer to run the gauntlet of the fire +of the British and Indian lines, and put a torch to the combustibles +within the barn, to save the remnant of the little army from +sacrifice. Butler, without a moment's delay, took some blazing slicks +from a fire at hand, leaped the pickets, and running at his utmost +speed, thrust the fire into the straw within the barn. One who was an +anxious spectator of the event we narrate, says, "that although volley +upon volley was fired at him, Butler, after making some steps on his +way back, turned to see if the fire had taken, and not being +satisfied, returned to the barn and set it in a blaze. As the +conflagration grew, the enemy was seen retreating from the rear of the +building, which they had entered at one end, as the flame ascended in +the other. Soon after reaching the pickets in safety, amid the shouts +of his friends, he was struck by a ball in his breast. Believing from +the pain he felt that it had penetrated his chest, turning to Adjutant +(now Gen.) McCalla, one of his Lexington comrades, and pressing his +hand to the spot, he said, "I fear this shot is mortal, but while I am +able to move, I will do my duty." To the anxious inquiries of this +friend, who met him soon afterward, he opened his vest, with a smile, +and showed him that the ball had spent itself on the thick wadding of +his coat and on his breast bone. He suffered, however, for many +weeks. + +The little band within the pickets, which Winchester had surrendered, +after being carried himself a prisoner into Proctor's camp, denied his +powers. They continued to hold the enemy at bay until they were +enabled to capitulate on honorable terms, which, nevertheless, Proctor +shamefully violated, by leaving the sick and wounded who were unable +to walk to the tomahawk of his allies. Butler, who was among the few +of the wounded who escaped the massacre, was marched through Canada to +Fort Niagara--suffering under his wound, and every privation--oppressed +with grief, hunger, fatigue, and the inclement cold of that desolate +region. Even here he forgot himself, and his mind wandered back to the +last night scene which he surveyed on the bloody shores of the River +Raisin. He gave up the heroic part and became the schoolboy again, and +commemorated his sorrows for his lost friends in verse, like some +passionate, heart-broken lover. These elegiac strains were never +intended for any but the eye of mutual friends, whose sympathies, like +his own, poured out tears with their plaints over the dead. We give +some of these lines of his boyhood, to show that the heroic youth had +a bosom not less kind than brave. + +THE FIELD OF RAISIN. + + The battle's o'er! the din is past, + Night's mantle on the field is cast; + The Indian yell is heard no more, + An silence broods o'er Erie's shore. + At this lone hour I go to tread + The field where valor vainly bled-- + To raise the wounded warrior's crest, + Or warm with tears his icy breast; + To treasure up his last command, + And bear it to his native land. + It may one pulse of joy impart + To a fond mother's bleeding heart; + Or for a moment it may dry + The tear-drop in the widow's eye. + Vain hope, away! The widow ne'er + Her warrior's dying wish shall hear. + The passing zephyr bears no sigh, + No wounded warrior meets the eye-- + Death is his sleep by Erie's wave, + Of Raisin's snow we heap his grave! + How many hopes lie murdered here-- + The mother's joy, the father's pride, + The country's boast, the foeman's fear, + In wilder'd havoc, side by side. + Lend me, thou silent queen of night, + Lend me awhile thy waning light, + That I may see each well-loved form, + That sunk beneath the morning storm. + +These lines are introductory to what may be considered a succession of +epitaphs on the personal friends whose bodies he found upon the field. +It would extend the extract too far to insert them. We can only add +the close of the poem, where he takes leave of a group of his young +comrades in Hart's company, who had fallen together. + + And here I see that youthful band, + That loved to move at Hart's command; + I saw them for the battle dressed, + And still where danger thickest pressed, + I marked their crimson plumage wave. + How many filled this bloody grave! + Their pillow and their winding-sheet + The virgin snow--a shroud most meet! + But wherefore do I linger here? + Why drop the unavailing tear? + Where'er I turn, some youthful form, + Like floweret broken by the storm, + Appeals to me in sad array, + And bids me yet a moment stay. + Till I could fondly lay me down + And sleep with him on the cold, cold ground. + For thee, thou dread and solemn plain, + I ne'er shall look on thee again; + And Spring, with her effacing showers, + Shall come, and Summer's mantling flowers; + And each succeeding Winter throw + On thy red breast new robes of snow; + Yet I will wear thee in my heart, + All dark and gory as thou art. + +Shortly after his return from Canada. Ensign Butler was promoted to a +captaincy in the regiment to which he belonged. But as this promotion +was irregular, being made over the heads of senior officers in that +regiment, a captaincy was given him in the 44th, a new raised +regiment. When free from parole, by exchange, in 1814, he instantly +entered on active duty, with a company which he had recruited at +Nashville, Tennessee. His regiment was ordered to join General Jackson +in the South, but Captain Butler finding its movements too tardy, +pushed on, and effected that junction with his company alone. Gen. +Call, at that time an officer in Capt. Butler's company, (since Gov. +of Florida,) in a letter addressed to Mr. Tanner of Kentucky, +presents, as an eye-witness, so graphically, the share which Capt. +Butler had in the campaign which followed, that it may well supersede +any narrative at second hand. + + "_Tallehasse, April_ 3, 1844. + + "SIR,--I avail myself of the earliest leisure I + have had since the receipt of your letter of the + 18th of February, to give you a reply. + + "A difference of political sentiments will not + induce me to withhold the narrative you have + requested, of the military services of Col. Wm. O. + Butler, during the late war with Great Britain, + while attached to the army of the South. My + intimate association with him, in camp, on the + march, and in the field, has perhaps made me as + well acquainted with his merits, as a gentleman and + a soldier, as any other man living. And although we + are now standing in opposite ranks, I cannot forget + the days and nights we have stood side by side, + facing the common enemy of our country, sharing the + same fatigues, dangers, and privations, and + participating in the same pleasures and enjoyments. + The feelings and sympathies springing from such + associations in the days of our youth can never be + removed or impaired by a difference of opinion with + regard to men or measures, when each may well + believe the other equally sincere as himself, and + where the most ardent desire of both is to sustain + the honor, the happiness and prosperity of our + country. + + "Soon after my appointment in the army of the + United States, as a lieutenant, in the fall of + 1814, I was ordered to join the company of Capt. + Butler, of the 44th regiment of infantry, then at + Nashville, Tennessee. When I arrived, and reported + myself, I found the company under orders to join + our regiment in the South. The march, mostly + through an unsettled wilderness, was conducted by + Capt. Butler with his usual promptitude and energy, + and by forced and rapid movements we arrived at + Fort Montgomery, the headquarters of Gen. Jackson, + a short distance above the Florida line, just in + time to follow our beloved general in his bold + enterprise to drive the enemy from his strong + position in a neutral territory. The van-guard of + the army destined for the invasion of Louisiana had + made Pensacola its headquarters, and the British + navy in the Gulf of Mexico had rendezvoused in that + beautiful bay. + + "The penetrating sagacity of Gen. Jackson + discovered the advantage of the position assumed by + the British forces, and with a decision and energy + which never faltered, he resolved to find his + enemy, even under the flag of a neutral power. This + was done by a prompt and rapid march, surprising + and cutting off all the advanced pickets, until we + arrived within gun-shot of the fort at Pensacola. + The army of Gen. Jackson was then so inconsiderable + as to render a reinforcement of a single company, + commanded by such an officer as Capt. Butler, an + important acquisition. And although there were + several companies of regular troops ordered to + march from Tennessee at the same time, Capt. + Butler's, by his extraordinary energy and + promptitude, was the only one which arrived in time + to join this expedition. His company formed a part + of the centre column of attack at Pensacola. The + street we entered was defended by a battery in + front, which fired on us incessantly, while several + strong block-houses, on our flanks, discharged upon + us small arms and artillery. But a gallant and + rapid charge soon carried the guns in front, and + the town immediately surrendered. + + "In this fight Capt. Butler led on his company with + his usual intrepidity. He had one officer, Lieut. + Flournoy, severely wounded, and several + non-commissioned officers and privates killed and + wounded. + + "From Pensacola, after the object of the expedition + was completed, by another prompt and rapid + movement, we arrived at New Orleans a few weeks + before the appearance of the enemy. + + "On the 23d of December the signal-gun announced + the approach of the enemy. The previous night they + had surprised and captured one of our pickets; had + ascended a bayou, disembarked, and had taken + possession of the left bank of the Mississippi, + within six miles of New Orleans. The energy of + every officer was put in requisition, to + concentrate our forces in time to meet the enemy. + Capt. Butler was one of the first to arrive at the + general's quarters, and ask instructions; they were + received and promptly executed. Our regiment, + stationed on the opposite side, was transported + across the river. All the available forces of our + army, not much exceeding fifteen hundred men, were + concentrated in the city; and while the sun went + down the line of battle was formed; and every + officer took the station assigned him in the fight. + The infantry formed on the open square, in front of + the Cathedral, waiting in anxious expectation for + the order to move. During this momentary pause, + while the enemy was expected to enter the city, a + scene of deep and thrilling interest was presented. + Every gallery, porch and window around the square + were filled with the fair forms of beauty, in + silent anxiety and alarm, waving their + handkerchiefs to the gallant and devoted band which + stood before them, prepared to die, or defend them + from the rude intrusion of a foreign soldiery. It + was a scene calculated to awaken emotions never to + be forgotten. It appealed to the chivalry and + patriotism of every officer and soldier--it + inspired every heart, and nerved every arm for + battle. From this impressive scene the army marched + to meet the enemy, and about eight o'clock at night + they were surprised in their encampment, + immediately on the banks of the Mississippi. + Undiscovered, our line was formed in silence within + a short distance of the enemy; a rapid charge was + made into their camp, and a desperate conflict + ensued. After a determined resistance the enemy + gave way, but disputing every inch of ground we + gained. In advancing over ditches and fences in the + night, rendered still more dark by the smoke of the + battle, much confusion necessarily ensued, and many + officers became separated from their commands. It + more than once occurred during the fight that some + of our officers, through mistake, entered the + enemy's lines; and the British officers in like + manner entered ours. The meritorious officer in + command of our regiment, at the commencement of the + battle, lost his position in the darkness and + confusion, and was unable to regain it until the + action was over. In this manner, for a short time, + the regiment was without a commander, and its + movements were regulated by the platoon officers, + which increased the confusion and irregularity of + the advance. In this critical situation, and in the + heat of the battle, Capt. Butler, as the senior + officer present, assumed command of the regiment, + and led it on most gallantly to repeated and + successful charges, until the fight ended in the + complete rout of the enemy. We were still pressing + on their rear, when an officer of the general's + staff rode up and ordered the pursuit discontinued. + Captain Butler urged its continuance, and expressed + the confident belief of his ability to take many + prisoners, if permitted to advance. But the order + was promptly repeated, under the well-founded + apprehension that our troops might come in + collision with each other, an event which had + unhappily occurred at a previous hour of the fight. + No corps on that field was more bravely led to + battle than the regiment commanded by Capt. Butler, + and no officer of any rank, save the + commander-in-chief, was entitled to higher credit + for the achievement of that glorious night. + + "A short time before the battle of the 8th of + January, Capt. Butler was detailed to command the + guard in front of the encampment. A house standing + near the bridge, in advance of his position, had + been taken possession of by the light troops of the + enemy, from whence they annoyed our guard. Capt. + Butler determined to dislodge them and burn the + house. He accordingly marched to the attack at the + head of his command, but the enemy retired before + him. Seeing them retreat, he halted his guard, and + advanced himself, accompanied by two or three men + only, for the purpose of burning the house. It was + an old frame building, weather-boarded, without + ceiling or plaster in the inside, with a single + door opening to the British camp. On entering the + house he found a soldier of the enemy concealed in + one corner, whom he captured, and sent to the rear + with his men, remaining alone in the house. While + he was in the act of kindling a fire, a detachment + of the enemy, unperceived, occupied the only door. + The first impulse was to force, with his single + arm, a passage through them, but he was instantly + seized in a violent manner by two or three stout + fellows, who pushed him back against the wall with + such force as to burst off the weather-boarding + from the wall, and he fell through the opening thus + made. In an instant he recovered himself, and under + a heavy fire from the enemy, he retreated until + supported by the guard, which he immediately led on + to the attack, drove the British light troops from + their strong position, and burnt the house in the + presence of the two armies. + + "I witnessed on that field many deeds of daring + courage, but none of which more excited my + admiration than this. + + "Capt. Butler was soon after in the battle of the + 8th of January, where he sustained his previously + high and well earned reputation for bravery and + usefulness. But that battle, which, from its + important results, has eclipsed those which + preceded it, was but a slaughter of the enemy, with + trivial loss on our part, and presenting few + instances of individual distinction. + + "Capt. Butler received the brevet rank of major for + his gallant services during that eventful campaign, + and the reward of merit was never more worthily + bestowed. Soon after the close of the war, he was + appointed aid-de-camp to Gen. Jackson, in which + station he remained until he retired from the army. + Since that period I have seldom had the pleasure of + meeting with my valued friend and companion in + arms, and I know but little of his career in civil + life. But in camp, his elevated principles, his + intelligence and generous feelings, won for him the + respect and confidence of all who knew him; and + where he is best known, I will venture to say, he + is still most highly appreciated for every + attribute which constitutes the gentleman and the + soldier. + "I am, sir, very respectfully, + "R. K. CALL." +"MR. WILLIAM TANNER." + +General Jackson's sense of the services of Butler, in this memorable +campaign, was strongly expressed in the following letter to a member +of the Kentucky Legislature: + + "_Hermitage, Feb._ 20, 1844. + + "MY DEAR SIR,--You ask me to give you my opinion of + the military services of the then Captain, now + Colonel, Wm. O. Butler, of Kentucky, during the + investment of New Orleans by the British forces in + 1814 and 1815. I wish I had sufficient strength to + speak fully of the merit of the services of Col. + Butler on that occasion; this strength I have not: + Suffice it to say, that on all occasions he + displayed that heroic chivalry, and calmness of + judgment in the midst of danger, which distinguish + the valuable officer in the hour of battle. In a + conspicuous manner were those noble qualities + displayed by him on the night of the 23d December, + 1814, and on the 8th of January, 1815, as well as + at all times during the presence of the British + army at New Orleans. In short, he was to be found + at all points where duty called. I hazard nothing + in saying that should our country again be engaged + in war during the active age of Col. Butler, he + would be one of the very best selections that could + be made to command our army, and lead the Eagles of + our country on to victory and renown. He has + sufficient energy to assume all responsibility + necessary to success, and for his country's good. + + "ANDREW JACKSON." + +Gen. Jackson gave earlier proof of the high estimation in which he +held the young soldier who had identified himself with his own glory +at New Orleans. He made him his aid-de-camp in 1816--which station he +retained on the peace establishment, with the rank of colonel. But, +like his illustrious patron, he soon felt that military station and +distinction had no charms for him when unattended with the dangers, +duties, and patriotic achievements of war. He resigned, therefore, +even the association with his veteran chief, of which he was so proud, +and retired in 1817 to private life. He resumed his study of the +profession that was interrupted by the war, married, and settled down +on his patrimonial possession at the confluence of the Kentucky and +Ohio rivers, in the noiseless but arduous vocations of civil life. The +abode which he had chosen made it peculiarly so with him. The region +around him was wild and romantic, sparsely settled, and by pastoral +people. There are no populous towns. The high, rolling, and yet rich +lands--the precipitous cliffs of the Kentucky, of Eagle, Tavern and +other tributaries which pour into it near the mouth--make this section +of the State still, to some extent a wilderness of thickets--and the +tangled pea-vine, the grape-vine and nut-bearing trees, which rendered +all Kentucky, until the intrusion of the whites, one great Indian +park. The whole luxuriant domain was preserved by the Indians as a +pasture for buffalo, deer, elk, and other animals--their enjoyment +alike as a chase and a subsistence--by excluding every tribe from +fixing a habitation in it. Its name consecrated it as the dark and +bloody ground; and war pursued every foot that trod it. In the midst +of this region, in April, 1791, Wm. O. Butler was born, in Jessamine +county, on the Kentucky River. His father had married, in Lexington, +soon after his arrival in Kentucky, 1782, Miss Howkins, a +sister-in-law of Col. Todd, who commanded and perished in the battle +of the Blue-Licks. Following the instincts of his family, which seemed +ever to court danger, Gen. Pierce Butler, as neighborhood encroached +around him, removed, not long after the birth of his son William, to +the mouth of the Kentucky River. Through this section the Indian +warpath into the heart of Kentucky passed. Until the peace of 1794, +there was scarcely a day that some hostile Savage did not prowl +through the tangled forests, and the labyrinths of hills, streams and +cliffs, which adapted this region to their lurking warfare. From it +they emerged when they made their last formidable incursion, and +pushed their foray to the environs of Frankfort, the capital of the +State. General Pierce Butler had on one side of him the Ohio, on the +farther shore of which the savage hordes still held the mastery, and +on the other the romantic region through which they hunted and pressed +their war enterprises. And here, amid the scenes of border warfare, +his son William had that spirit, which has animated him through life, +educated by the legends of the Indian-fighting hunters of Kentucky. + +To the feelings and taste inspired by the peculiarities of the place +and circumstances adverted to, must be attributed the return of Col. +Butler to his father's home, to enter on his profession as a lawyer. +There were no great causes or rich clients to attract him--no dense +population to lift him to the political honors of the State. The +eloquence and learning, the industry and integrity which he gave to +adjust the controversies of Gallatin and the surrounding counties, +would have crowned him with wealth and professional distinction, if +exhibited at Louisville or Lexington. But he coveted neither. +Independence, the affections of his early associates, the love of a +family circle, and the charm which the recollection of a happy boyhood +gave to the scenes in which he was reared, were all he sought. And he +found them all in the romantic dells and woodland heights of Kentucky, +and on the sides of the far spreading, gently flowing, beautiful Ohio. +The feeling which his sincere and sensitive nature had imbibed here +was as strong as that of the Switzer for his bright lakes, lofty +mountains, and deep valleys. The wild airs of the boat horn, which +have resounded for so many years from arks descending the Ohio and +Kentucky, floating along the current and recurring in echoes from the +hollows of the hills, like its eddies, became as dear to him as the +famous Rans de Vache to the native of Switzerland. We insert, as +characteristic alike of the poetical talent and temperament of Butler, +some verses which the sound of this rude instrument evoked when he +returned home, resigning with rapture "the ear piercing fife and +spirit stirring drum" for the wooden horn, which can only compass in +its simple melody such airs as that to which Burns has set his +beautiful words-- + + When wild war's deadly blast was blawn, + And gentle peace returning, + Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless, + And many a widow mourning; + I left the lines and tented field. + +The music of this song made the burden of the "Boatman's Horn," and +always announced the approaching ark to the river villages. + +The sentiments of the poet, as well as the sweet and deep tones which +wafted the plaintive air over the wide expanse of the Ohio, may have +contributed to awaken the feeling which pervade these lines. + +THE BOAT HORN. + + O, boatman! wind that horn again, + For never did the list'ning air + Upon its lambent bosom bear + So wild, so soft, so sweet a strain-- + What though thy notes are sad, and few, + By every simple boatman blown, + Yet is each pulse to nature true, + And melody in every tone. + How oft in boyhood's joyous day, + Unmindful of the lapsing hours, + I've loitered on my homeward way + By wild Ohio's brink of flowers, + While some lone boatman, from the deck, + Poured his soft numbers to that tide, + As if to charm from storm and wreck + The boat where all his fortunes ride! + Delighted Nature drank the sound, + Enchanted--Echo bore it round + In whispers soft, and softer still, + From hill to plain, and plain to hill, + Till e'en the thoughtless, frolick boy, + Elate with hope, and wild with joy, + Who gamboled by the river's side, + And sported with the fretting tide, + Feels something new pervade his breast, + Chain his light step, repress his jest, + Bends o'er the flood his eager ear + To catch the sounds far off yet dear-- + Drinks the sweet draught, but knows not why + The tear of rapture fills his eye + And can he now, to manhood grown, + Tell why those notes, simple and lone, + As on the ravished ear they fall, + Bind every sense in magic spell? + There is a tide of feeling given + To all on earth, its fountain Heaven. + Beginning with the dewy flower, + Just oped in Flora's vernal bower-- + Rising creation's orders through + With louder murmur, brighter hue-- + That _tide_ is sympathy! its ebb and flow + Give life its hues of joy and wo. + Music, the master-spirit that can move + Its waves to war, or lull them into love-- + Can cheer the sinking sailor mid the wave, + And bid the soldier on! nor fear the grave-- + Inspire the fainting pilgrim on his road, + And elevate his soul to claim his God. + Then, boatman! wind that horn again! + Though much of sorrow mark its strain, + Yet are its notes to sorrow dear; + What though they wake fond memory's tear! + Tears are sad memory's sacred feast, + And rapture oft her chosen guest. + +This retirement, which may almost be considered seclusion, was enjoyed +by Col. Butler nearly twenty-five years, when he was called out by the +Democratic party to redeem by his personal popularity the +congressional district in which he lived. It was supposed that no one +else could save it from the Whigs. Like all the rest of his family, +none of whom had made their military service a passport to the honors +and emoluments of civil stations, he was averse to relinquish the +attitude he occupied to enter on a party struggle. The importunity of +friends prevailed; and he was elected to two successive terms in +Congress, absolutely refusing to be a candidate a third time. He spoke +seldom in Congress, but in two or three fine speeches which appear in +the debates, a power will readily be detected which could not have +failed to conduct to the highest distinction in that body. Taste, +judgment, and eloquence, characterized all his efforts in Congress. A +fine manner, an agreeable voice, and the high consideration accorded +to him by the members of all parties, gave him, what it is the good +fortune of few to obtain, an attentive and gratified audience. + +In 1844 the same experiment was made with Butler's popularity to carry +the state for the Democracy, as had succeeded in his congressional +district. He was nominated as the Democratic candidate for governor by +the 8th of January Convention; and there is good ground to believe +that he would have been chosen over his estimable Whig competitor, +Governor Owsley, but for the universal conviction throughout the state +that the defeat of Mr. Clay's party, by the choice of a Democratic +governor in August, would have operated to injure Mr. Clay's prospects +throughout the Union, in the presidential election which followed +immediately after in November. With Mr. Clay's popularity, and the +activity of all his friends--with the state pride so long exalted by +the aspiration of giving a President to the Union--more eagerly than +ever enlisted against the Democracy, Col. Butler diminished the Whig +majority from twenty thousand to less than five thousand. + +The late military events with which Maj. Gen. Butler has been +connected--in consequence of his elevation to that grade in 1846, with +the view to the command of the volunteers raised to support Gen. +Taylor in his invasion of Mexico--are so well known to the country +that minute recital is not necessary. He acted a very conspicuous part +in the severe conflict at Monterey, and had, as second in command +under Gen. Taylor, his full share in the arduous duties and +responsibilities incurred in that important movement. The narrative of +Major Thomas, senior assistant adjutant-general of the army in Mexico, +and hence assigned by Gen. Taylor to the staff of Gen. Butler, reports +so plainly and modestly the part which Gen. Butler performed in +subjecting the city, that it may well stand for history. This passage +is taken from it. + + "The army arrived at their camp in the vicinity of + Monterey about noon September 19th. That afternoon + the general endeavored by personal observation to + get information of the enemy's position. He, like + Gen. Taylor, saw the importance of gaining the road + to Saltillo, and fully favored the movement of Gen. + Worth's division to turn their left, &c. Worth + marched Sunday, September 20th, for this purpose, + thus leaving Twiggs' and Butler's divisions with + Gen. Taylor. Gen. Butler was also in favor of + throwing his division across the St. John's river, + and approaching the town from the east, which was + at first determined upon. This was changed, as it + would leave but one, and perhaps the smallest + division, to guard the camp, and attack in front. + The 20th the general also reconnoitered the enemy's + position. Early the morning of the 21st the force + was ordered out to create a diversion in favor of + Worth, that he might gain his position; and before + our division came within long range of the enemy's + principal battery, the foot of Twiggs' division had + been ordered down to the northeast side of the + town, to make an armed reconnoisance of the + advanced battery, and to take it if it could be + done without great loss. The volunteer division was + scarcely formed in rear of our howitzer and mortar + battery, established the night previous under cover + of a rise of ground, before the infantry sent down + to the northeast side of the town became closely + and hotly engaged, the batteries of that division + were sent down, _and we were then ordered to + support the attack._ Leaving the Kentucky regiment + to support the mortar and howitzer battery, the + general rapidly put in march, by a flank movement, + the other three regiments, moving for some one and + a half or two miles under a heavy fire of round + shot. As further ordered, the Ohio regiment was + detached from Quitman's brigade, and led by the + general (at this time accompanied by Gen. Taylor) + into the town. Quitman carried his brigade directly + on the battery first attacked, and gallantly + carried it. Before this, however, as we entered the + suburbs, the chief engineer came up and advised us + to withdraw, as the object of the attack had + failed, and if we moved on we must meet with great + loss. The general was loath to fall back without + consulting with Gen. Taylor, which he did do--the + general being but a short distance off. As we were + withdrawing, news came that Quitman had carried the + battery, and Gen. Butler led the Ohio regiment back + to the town at a different point. In the street we + became exposed to a line of batteries on the + opposite side of a small stream, and also from a + _tete de pont_ (bridge-head) which enfiladed us. + Our men fell rapidly as we moved up the street to + get a position to charge the battery across the + stream. Coming to a cross-street, the general + reconnoitered the position, and determining to + charge from that point, sent me back a short + distance to stop the firing, and advance the + regiment with the bayonet. I had just left him, + when he was struck in the leg, being on foot, and + was obliged to leave the field." + + "On entering the town, the general and his troops + became at once hotly engaged at short musket range. + He had to make his reconnoisances under heavy fire. + This he did unflinchingly, and by exposing his + person--on one occasion passing through a large + gateway into a yard which was entirely open to the + enemy. When he was wounded, at the intersection of + the two streets, he was exposed to a cross-fire of + musketry and grape." + + "In battle the general's bearing was truly that of + a soldier; and those under him felt the influence + of his presence. He had the entire confidence of + his men." + +The narrative of Major Thomas continues: + + "When Gen. Taylor went on his expedition to + Victoria, in December, he placed Gen. Butler in + command of the troops left on the Rio Grande, and + at the stations from the river on to + Saltillo--Worth's small division of regulars being + at the latter place. Gen. Wool's column had by this + time reached Parras, one hundred or more miles west + of Saltillo. General Butler had so far recovered + from his wound as to walk a little and take + exercise on horseback, though with pain to his + limb. One night, (about the 19th December,) an + express came from Gen. Worth at Saltillo, stating + that the Mexican forces were advancing in large + numbers from San Luis de Potosi, and that he + expected to be attacked in two days. His division, + all told, did not exceed 1500 men, if so many, and + he asked reinforcements. The general remained up + during the balance of the night, sent off the + necessary couriers to the rear for reinforcements, + and had the 1st Kentuckey, and the 1st Ohio foot, + then encamped three miles from town, in the place + by daylight; and these two regiments, with + Webster's battery, were encamped that night ten + miles on the road to Saltillo. This promptness + enabled the general to make his second day's march + of twenty-two miles in good season, and to hold the + celebrated pass of Los Muertos, and check the enemy + should he have attacked Gen. Worth on that day, and + obliged him to evacuate the town. Whilst on the + next, and last day's march, the general received + notice that the reported advance of the enemy was + untrue. Arriving at the camp-ground, the general + suffered intense pain from his wound, and slept not + during the night. This journey, over a rugged, + mountainous road, and the exercise he took in + examining the country for twenty miles in advance + of Saltillo, caused the great increase of pain now + experienced." + +The major's account then goes on to relate Gen. Butler's proceedings +while in command of all the forces after the junction of Generals +Worth and Wool--his dispositions to meet the threatened attack of +Santa Anna--the defences created by him at Saltillo, and used during +the attack at Buena Vista in dispersing Minon's forces--his just +treatment of the people of Saltillo, with the prudent and effectual +precautions taken to make them passive in the event of Santa Anna's +approach. It concludes by stating that all apprehensions of Santa +Anna's advance subsiding, Gen. Butler returned to meet Gen. Taylor at +Monterey, to report the condition of affairs; and the latter, having +taken the command at Saltillo, transmitted a leave of absence to Gen. +Butler, to afford opportunity for the cure of his wound. + +This paper affords evidence of the kind feeling which subsisted +between the two generals during the campaign, and this sentiment was +strongly evinced by Gen. Butler, on his arrival in Washington, where +he spoke in the most exalted terms of the leader under whom he served. + +In person Gen. Butler is tall, straight, and handsomely formed, +exceedingly active and alert--his mien is inviting--his manners +graceful--his gait and air military--his countenance frank and +pleasing--the outline of his features of the aquiline cast, thin and +pointed in expression--the general contour of his head is Roman. + +The character of Gen. Butler in private life is in fine keeping with +that exhibited in his public career. In the domestic circle, care, +kindness, assiduous activity in anticipating the wants of all around +him--readiness to forego his own gratifications to gratify others, +have become habits growing out of his affections. His love makes +perpetual sunshine at his home. Among his neighbors, liberality, +affability, and active sympathy mark his social intercourse, and +unbending integrity and justice all his dealings. His home is one of +unpretending simplicity. It is too much the habit in Kentucky, with +stern and fierce men, to carry their personal and political ends with +a high hand. Gen. Butler, with all the masculine strength, courage, +and reputation to give success to attempts of this sort, never evinced +the slightest disposition to indulge the power, whilst his well-known +firmness always forbade such attempts on him. His life has been one of +peace with all men, except the enemies of his country. + + + + +MATHEW MIZZLE, +OF THE INQUIRING MIND. + +BY THE LATE JOSEPH C. NEAL. + +[Illustration] + + +How could he help it? Born with an inquiring turn of mind, and gifted +from the first with a disposition toward experimental philosophy, by +what processes would you undertake to change the current of Mathew +Mizzle's mind? He is one of those who take nothing for granted. A +weight of authority is little in his mind when compared to the +personal investigation of the fact--facts for the people, and for +himself as one of the people--that's the pivot on which Mathew Mizzle +turns and returns, one fact being to his mind worth whole volumes of +speculative assumption; and to Mizzle all facts, let them relate to +what they may, are of peculiar interest. It is useless to tell him so. +He must go, see and examine for himself. Often, for instance, as he +had been told that Gruffenhoff's big dog would bite at the aspect of +strange visitations, do you think that this species of information +would content the youthful Mizzle? No--he must see into the matter for +himself, and ascertain it beyond the possibility of a doubt, by +touching up Gruffenhoff's big dog with a stick, as the aforesaid big +dog lay asleep in the sun, whereby the demonstration was immediately +afforded. The big dog would bite--he did bite severely; and thus the +little Mizzle added another fact to his magazine of knowledge, as well +as an enduring scar to his person, which placed the result upon +record, and kept memory fresh on the subject. One dog, at least, will +bite; and thenceforth, Mathew Mizzle admitted the inference that dogs +are apt to bite, under circumstances congenial to such dental +performances. If you doubt it, there's the mark. + +"Burnee--burnee, baby," are the notes of warning often heard in the +nursery, when heated stoves become an object of interest to little +human specimens just learning to creep. But "burnee, burnee," conveyed +no precise idea to the infantile Mizzle during his preliminary +locomotive operations; and in consonance with the impulses of his +nature, he soon tried the stove in its most intense displays of +caloric, and in this way determined that "burnee, burnee," was +unpleasant to the person, and injurious to the costume and raiment of +that person, to say nothing of its threatening dispositions toward the +whole establishment. "Burnee, burnee," to the house, as well as +"burnee, burnee," to the baby. And so also as to lamps and +candles--that they would "burnee" too, was placed, painfully, beyond +the impertinent reach of a doubt in minds of the most sceptic order. +Mathew Mizzle can show you the evidences to this day, scored, as it +were, upon the living parchment, and engrossed in characters not to be +misunderstood upon the cuticular binding of his physical identity. + +It was useless, also, to place the little Mathew at the head of +stairs, with information that any further advance on his part would +prove matter of injury. How could he know until he had tried? Indeed, +it required several clear tumbles down an entire flight to satisfy his +judgment on this point, and to imprint it on his mind, through the +medium of his bumpology, that the swiftest transition from one place +to another, especially when effected by the downward movement, is not +always the safest and the most agreeable. But afterward, none knew +better than he what is meant by the word "landing," as applied to the +staircase. "The Landing of Columbus" may be celebrated in pictures; +but Mathew Mizzle accomplished landings that made very nearly as much +noise as that effected by "the world-seeking Genoese," and the voyages +of both were accompanied by squalls. + +But it was not by the touch alone that Mathew Mizzle sought after +information in his earlier career. His taste was equally curious. +Strange bottles were subjects of the most intense interest, so that +like Mithridates, he almost became proof against injury by the +frequent imbibings of poison. He knew that pleasant draughts came from +bottles, but had to learn that because a bottle has contents, it does +not necessarily follow that these contents are either safe or +agreeable. Ink, for instance--a copious mouthful of ink--however +literary one may be, ink thus administered is not a matter over which +the recipient is inclined greatly to rejoice. It did not appear so, at +least, when Mathew Mizzle, in frock and trowsers, astonished, after +this fashion, his mouth, his clothing and the carpet--so astonished +himself that he forgot to reverse the bottle, but permitted it to pour +in a steady stream right into the aperture of his lovely countenance. +No one probably in the wide world ever acquired a greater variety of +knowledge, as to the effect of substances of all kinds upon the human +palate, than was obtained by Mathew Mizzle in the course of his +earlier investigations into the relative qualities of solids and +liquids. A spoonful of Cayenne pepper probably afforded him as much of +surprise as any thing of the same portable compass. The varied +expressions of his countenance would have been a study to a Lavater. +The opera-house never witnessed a dance more remarkable for force and +for expression; and if ever Mathew Mizzle was wide awake--wider than +on any previous occasion, it was when he had seasoned himself highly +with Cayenne. It made Mathew piquant to a degree; and something of the +same kind might have been said of him when under the influence of +mustard. He was then the warmest boy anywhere about; and fully +appreciated the cheering influence of "the castors"--he did not go +upon castors for a long time afterward, and never again to the same +extent. + +There was another source of trouble to Mathew Mizzle. His eyes proper +were sharp enough; but the knowledge they acquired was not sufficient +to satisfy his devouring thirst for information, and therefore much of +his seeing was done with the tips of his fingers, or the grasp of his +hands. He must touch every thing, and of course spoilt many things. +Leave him alone in the room for a moment, and he would open all the +letters, peep into every drawer, smell at every unknown substance, +displace your china, spoil your musical-box, climb up the piano-forte, +and pull over the vases of flowers. If you did not hear a crash this +time, do not flatter yourself. Some secret, but equally important +mischief has been accomplished, though it may not be apparent for +days. The Mathew Mizzles always leave their mark; and when a gun went +off in his hands, the shot that fractured the mirror rendered it +fortunate that the mark was only a mirror, as Mathew Mizzle roared +with terror at "the sound himself had made." + +Mathew Mizzle, grown as he is now to man's estate, has perchance +changed the objects of his pursuit, but the activity both of his mind +and of his body remains undiminished. Curious as ever to ascertain +facts. He is one of those who have ever an eye upon their neighbors. +He follows people to ascertain whither they are going. It is a +favorite amusement of his to peep through the blinds of an evening, to +ascertain what you and your family are about. He listens at doors, and +he peers through cracks and patronizes knot-holes. If he can learn +nothing else, it is a satisfaction for him to ascertain what you are +about to have for dinner, and who stopped in to tea. Speak over loud +in the street, and Mathew Mizzle saunters close at your elbow, but +with such an unconscious look, that you would never dream that he had +come merely for information. + +No one knows better than he all about the domestic difficulties of +families. His sources of intelligence are innumerable. Sometimes you +may find him on the back fence, taking observations of the domestic +circle; and he has been seen of an evening up the linden-tree in front +of domiciles, for similar purposes. The servants of the vicinage are +all on confidential terms with Mathew Mizzle; and--have you not noted +the fact?--when you would have secret discourse with a friend, Mizzle +comes upon you, as the birds of prey scent a battle-field. All secrets +appear to hold a species of telegraphic communication with our friend +Mathew Mizzle, as to the fact at least, that there is a secret in +existence, as well as a regard to its local habitation. + +Ubiquitous Mathew Mizzle, yet invariably out of place. Open the door +suddenly, and Mathew Mizzle is almost knocked down. Throw out a bucket +of water at night, and Mathew Mizzle is there to receive its contents. +Pass a stick through the key-hole, and it's Mizzle's eye that suffers +the detriment. You stumble over him in dark entries--you find him +lying perdu in the closet. Go where you will, there is Mizzle, if it +be in the wrong place for Mizzle's presence. + +Behold him prowling round the scenes to investigate the mysteries of a +theatrical performance. There he is, just where he was told not to be, +and William Tell was not in fault that his arrow has stricken Mathew +Mizzle breathless. What business had Mizzle there in Switzerland, +lurking near the walls of Altorf? + +Mizzle's last catastrophe, like the last catastrophe of many other +distinguished citizens, was effected by means of a ladder, which he +had ascended cautiously by night, after the painters had left their +work, to see what was going on in the chamber of a second story. +Suddenly, there was a dog at the bottom of the aforesaid ladder, and a +cudgel at the top, presenting the alternatives of a dilemma. Switches +above and bark below, what could the unfortunate Mathew Mizzle do but +surrender himself a prisoner of war? Poor Mizzle! They put him under +the pump, and made him acquainted with the nature of ducks. + +Is it not a pity that the system of "espionage" does not obtain in +America, that Mathew Mizzle might have a field for the exercise of the +qualities which are so remarkably developed in his constitution? It +would be a perfect union of duty and of pleasure, if he could be +employed to find out every thing that goes on in town and about, and +it is a great pity that means could not be devised to save so fine a +young man from the waste of his genius. + +"People are so fussy about their secrets," says he, "as if there were +any use of having secrets, if it were not for the fun of finding them +out and talking about them. It's mean and selfish to abridge +intelligence in that sort of way, and if I knew of any country where +they manage matters on a different system, I'd emigrate right away, I +would. A pretty piece of business, to put a man under the pump, +because he seeks after knowledge." + + + + +SHAWANGUNK MOUNTAIN. + +BY ALFRED B. STREET. + + + Before the plough had scattered fields of grain + And grassy orchards midst the oaken woods + Of Shawangunk, upon the mountain's top + Stood a wood-cutter's hut. Himself and wife + Shared it alone. The spot was green and sweet. + The earth was covered with a velvet sward, + Grouped with low thickets, here and there a tree + Rearing its dark rich foliage in the heavens. + + Pleasant the echoes of his fast plied axe, + Merrily rattling through the mountain-woods, + To those who sought the old surveyor's road + For shade and coolness; and amidst the sounds + Would boom deep heavy shocks of falling trees, + Like growls of thunder in the noontide-hush, + So that the eye would glance impulsively + Up to the tree-tops, to discern the peak + Of the ascending cloud. + + His forest-life, + Though rude, was joyous. When the mellow charm + Of sunset on the smiling mountains lay, + The creaking of his high-piled cart would blend + With song or whistle blithe, as, dipping down + The road, he sought the village in the midst + Of the green hollow. This slight mountain-road + Went slanting to the summit, with blazed trunks + On either side, and soft delicious grass + Spreading its carpet; one faint track alone + Telling that wheel had e'er its beauty scarred. + Close to the hut it passed, then downward plunged, + And sought the level of the opposite side. + + 'T was at the close of one cold winter day + That down this road I trod. My weary steps, + With efforts vain, had tracked, for hours, the deer, + And now, with empty flask and rifle, swift, + I journeyed homeward. Nature's great bright eye + Low beaming in the west, still poured sweet light + Upon the mountain. The pure snow, all round, + In delicate rose-tints glowed. The hemlocks smiled, + Speckled with gold. The oak's sear foliage, still + Tight clinging to the boughs, was kindled up + To warm rich brown. The myriad trunks and sprays + Traced their black lines upon the soft snow-blush + Beneath, until it seemed a tangled maze. + Upon the mountain's top, a thread of smoke + From the low cabin rose, as though a streak + Of violet had been painted on the air. + I heard the ring of the wood-cutter's axe, + And, through an opening, saw his instrument + Flashing into a walnut's giant stem, + Whose upborne mass, in the fast lowering light, + Seemed cut in copper. A broad wind-fall near + Let down my eyes upon the hollow. White + In snow it lay, with long and dusky lines + Of fences crossing--groups of orchard-trees-- + Hay-barracks--barns and long low dwelling-roofs. + Straight as an arrow ran the streak of road + Athwart the hollow. As I looked, the eye + In the red west sank lower, till half quenched + Behind the upland, then a shred of light + Glittered and vanished, and the sky was bare. + + Whilst gazing on this splendor, suddenly + I heard a shriek. Shrill, ringing midst the woods + In piercing clearness, through my ears it cut, + And left a sense of deafness. Startled, round + I gazed. Again the horrid sound thrilled past. + I knew it then as the terrific cry + Of the fierce, bloody panther. In our woods + Naught fiercer, bloodier dwells, when roused by rage + Or hunger. Oft our hunters had of late + Marked the huge foot-prints of the ravenous beast, + And heard his scream at midnight, but no eye + As yet had seen him. With a nervous grasp + Upon my useless weapon, and a weight + Of helplessness, like lead, upon my soul, + I started on my path. At every step + I thought his tawny form and fierce green eye + Would meet my sight, upon some limb o'erhead. + But naught was seen. The village soon I reached, + And gladly crossed the threshold of my home. + + The long, cold, breathless night came swiftly down. + The clear, magnificent moon seemed not inlaid + In the bright blue, but stood out bold, distinct, + As though impending from the cloudless skies + Glittering with frost. Upon the sparkling snow + The rich light slept in such sweet purity + As naught on earth can match. The hours sped on, + The silver day still shone serene and clear, + And twinkled on the crystals shooting round. + Gazing once more upon the splendid scene, + Before I sought the couch, my wandering eye + Glanced at the mountain. There it grandly stood + A giant mass of ivory. On the spot + Where the steep slanting road the hollow joined, + My sight a moment dwelt, for there I last + Had swept around a quick and piercing gaze, + In search of the gaunt monster whose keen cry + Still echoed in my ears. Is that a spot + Of shadow flickering in some transient breeze? + No. O'er the hollow, gliding swift, it comes. + Is it the ravenous panther, fierce for blood, + Seeking the village? Closer as it speeds + A clearer shape it shows--a human form-- + 'T is the wood-cutter's wife! She loudly shrieks, + "My husband--lost--wake, wake!" the moonlight falls + Upon her features swollen with tears. A band + Of villagers was soon aroused, and forth + We sallied toward the mountain. So intense + The cold, the snow creaked shrilly at our tread, + And the strewed diamonds on its surface flashed + Back the keen moonlight. As we trod along, + The wife in breathless haste, her story told, + How, when the sunset fell, she watched to see + Her husband's form swift speeding up the road, + From the side-clearing, at that wonted hour, + Toward his low roof. The sunset died, and night + Sprang on the earth; the absent one came not. + The moon moved up; the latch-string was not pulled + For entrance in the cabin. Hours sped on. + And still, upon the silvered snow, no form + Her gaze rewarded. Once she heard afar + A panther's shriek. Her fear to frenzy rose. + To the side-clearing sped she; naught was there + But solitude and moonlight. As she told + Her tale I shuddered. In my ear again + Rang the fierce shriek I heard as sunset glowed, + And my flesh crept with horror. Up we trod + Our mountain snow-path speedily. At length, + To where the narrow opening in the woods + Led from the road, we came. 'T was at this spot + I stood, and watched the form and flashing axe + Of him, the lost. We passed within. The moon + Threw on the little clearing a full flood + Of radiance. There the crusted wood-pile stood; + There was the walnut with a ghastly notch + Deep in its heart. A ledge of rock rose up + Beside the wounded tree, and at its base + A space of blackest hue proclaimed a chasm. + No life was stirring on the brilliant waste; + The trees rose like a wall on every side + But where the ledge frowned darkly. As I checked + My footsteps at the half-hewn walnut, drops + Thick sprinkled round--the snow stamped down--an axe + Lying upon the high wreathed roots, my gaze, + As with a charm, arrested. From this spot + Large prints and a broad furrow stretched along + To the black chasm within the rocky ledge. + We clustered round the mouth. A low, deep growl + Came from the depths. Two orbs of flashing fire + Glared in the darkness. Brace, the hunter, aimed + His rifle just between the flaming spots, + And fired. Fierce growls and gnashings loud of teeth + Blent with the echoes, and then all was still. + The spots were seen no more. A few had brought + Splinters of pine for torches, and the flint + Supplied the flame. With one hand grasping tight + A hatchet keen, the other a bright torch, + The dauntless hunter ventured, with slow steps, + Within the cavern. Soon a shout we heard, + And Brace appeared, with all his giant strength + Dragging a lifeless panther. In again + He passed, and then brought out a human form, + Mangled and crushed. A shriek pealed wild and high, + And, swooning, sank the wife upon the snow, + Beside the dead. With silent, deep-felt awe + We bore both to the hut. A sudden cloud + Rose frowning from the north, and deep and fierce + Howled the loosed tempest. From her death-like swoon, + Roused by our care, the hapless wife poured out + Her cries and wailings. Through the livelong night + We heard her moans and screams and ravings wild, + Blending with all those stern and awful tones + That the scourged forest yields. But morning dawned, + And brought the widowed and the broken heart + The peace of death. Beside the lonely hut, + Two graves were opened in the frozen snow, + And silence then fell deeply on the spot. + No more the smoke curled up. No more the axe + Rang in the mountain; and a few short years + Leveled the cabin with the forest-earth, + Midst spreading bushes, fern and waving grass. + + + + +INNOCENCE. + + + Let me, lamb-like, share caresses, + From thy hand that knows not stain; + Flowers that woo, the smile that blesses, + Hours that pass and leave no pain! + + Be with me in sleeping, waking; + Be with me in toil and rest; + Living, thine; and, life forsaking, + Let me slumber on thy breast! + +[Illustration: INNOCENCE] + + + + +A DRAMA OF REAL LIFE. + +(IN A LETTER FROM N. P. WILLIS TO THE EDITOR OF GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE.) + + + TO GEO. R. GRAHAM, ESQ. + _New York, December_ 1, 1847. + + DEAR SIR,--By to-night's mail should go to you a + piece of mental statuary, which is yet in a marble + block of the reluctant quarry of my brain--due to + you by agreement on the first of December, one + unconceived tale! But though we do so strangely + bargain the invisible wares of the imagination, + deliverable, like merchandize, on a certain day, + the contractor is still liable to the caprices of + the world he trades from, and your order on me for + fancy yet undug, must, I fear, be protested. You + would not believe me if I were to tell you + literally why. But the truth is that I, and a + certain cave (mentioned by Humboldt, on the banks + of the Oronookoo, which he calls a "subterranean + organ,") can only give out music in certain states + of the weather. With the dry, sharp, icy north wind + of the last few days, I could no more write than I + could supply electricity to Morse's wire. + + But--no failure is _quite_ twenty shillings in the + pound. What say you to the assets? The statue will + not be forth coming--but will you have the model, + after which the undug block was to have been + chiseled? Shall I send you the literal truth which + I had intended to drape with imagination--tell the + facts of real life which I had designed to weave + into a story. I shall thus, at least, clear + _yourself_ of the non-fulfillment of the promise of + your pre-advertised contents, and (engaging to send + you a story properly completed for the next number) + shall effect, perhaps, a compromise for my + delinquent punctuality. + + This, then, is the thread of literal truth which + was to have run through the fancy-woof of my story. + + Some years ago, after a year or two of residence in + different cities of Italy, I found myself very much + at home in Naples. It was an unusually gay + season--the concentration of the rank and fashion + of the floating society of travelers varying + between Rome, Florence, and Naples, very much as it + does, in our country, between the different + watering-places--by caprices that no one can + foresee. The English people of rank, more + particularly, were in very great force; and the + blonde moustaches, so much admired in the + dark-haired South, and the skins of alabaster and + rose, so envied by the brunettes of Italy, abounded + at the balls and in the public places. The king + kept very gay court, the royal entertainments + accessible to all strangers properly introduced, + and the ambassadors and bankers, nobles and wealthy + strangers, seemed to want twice as many nights and + mornings in the week, so conflicting were the balls + and breakfasts, driving-parties and dinners. + + As, of course, an unobserved looker-on in scenes of + such brilliant rivalry and display, I had more + attention to spare than most whom I met; and I + soon found myself--eyes, mind, fancy, and + interest, absorbed in one study--a new revelation + of a type of woman. We are accustomed to see the + sex in classes--hundreds of a kind--and find them + sufficiently absorbing as nouns of multitude. It is + probably one of Heaven's principles of human + safety, that women are made in "lots" so like, that + a transfer of a slighted heart, from an unwilling + beauty to some willing likeness of her, safely + vents the volcano. Proportionately dangerous, + however, are those rare women--of whom a man sees, + perhaps, one or two in his life--who are the only + ones of their type and kind; for, out of love for + them, their is no exit but through their hearts. + + You are going too fast if you fancy I am about to + record a fruitless passion of my own. Though of + "easy wax," I am not stamped, except by will of the + imprintress; and my only cobweb thread of personal + remembrance is a horseback excursion to Camaldoli, + in which I played the propriety-third to the best + of my discretion. It is necessary to define thus + much, to redeem my estimate of the lady from the + imputation of mere fancy. Had I known her + intimately, or not known her at all, my judgment of + her would be less reliable. In just the position + for untroubled and most favorable observation, I + studied her in silence through that brilliant + season, and laid away her image (as one does + without more than one or two choked-down + aspirations) to people castles in the air, and fill + niches in the temple of dreams. + + The foregoing prepares you for a portrait of the + proposed heroine of my story--but that you would + have had, had the story been written. I never could + draw a picture of a woman but from the life, and to + that fictitious tale I should have transferred, + with studied and careful truthfulness, the enamel + portrait burnt in upon my memory, and which you + would have admired my fancy for conceiving. Oh! the + mistake of supposing that we can imagine things + brighter than we have seen with our eyes--that + there is any kingdom of air, visitable by poets, + which is comparable to the glorious world we live + in, with its _some_ women, _some_ sunsets, _some_ + strains of music, and _some_ fore-tasted + heaven-thrills of emotion. + + The heir to one of the oldest titles of England was + the husband of this lady. The fortunes of his + family had been wasted; and they had lived for a + generation or two in comparative obscurity, when + the present Lord ---- came of age. He had been + educated carefully, but was of great personal + beauty, and I thought when I first saw him, was as + fine a model as I had ever seen of the quiet, + reserved, self-intrenched school of modern English + manners. With his beauty and his title, though with + little or no estate, he had easily married a lady + of fortune--the only daughter of a retired banker. + And this heiress, Lady ----, is the one whose story + I would have told through a veil of fiction. + + The Countess of ---- was an unsurpassed horsewoman, + and rode constantly. Her blood-horses had been sent + round by ship from England; and she was always + mounted on an animal whose every fibre seemed + obedient to her thought, and with whose motion + every line of her own tall and slenderly-rounded + person, and every ringlet of her flowing, golden + curls seemed in a correspondence governed by the + very spirit of beauty. She rode with her rein + loose, and her mind apparently absorbed with any + thing but her horse. A turn of her head, or the + pressure of her foot upon his shoulder, was + probably the animal's guidance. But, of an + excessively impassioned nature, she conversed in + the saddle with the expression and gesture of the + most earnest untrammeling of mind, and, in full + speed, as in the repose upon a lounge in a saloon, + she carried away the listener with her + uncalculating and passionate absorption--no + self-possession, however on its guard it might be, + able, apparently, to withstand the enveloping and + resistless influence which she herself was a slave + to. Unconsciousness of every thing in the world, + except the feeling she was pouring from her soul, + seemed the only and every-day condition and law of + her nature; and supreme as she was in fashion of + dress, and style of manner, these seemed matters + learned and lost thought of--she having returned to + nature, leaving her triumphs as a belle to be cared + for by infallible habit. A separate spirit of + light, speaking from the lips of the most + accomplished and best perfected of women--the + spirit, and the form possessed, being each in full + exercise of their best faculties--could scarcely + have conveyed more complete impressions of wondrous + mind, in perfect body, or have blended more + ravishingly, the entireness of heavenly with the + most winning earthly development. She was an + earnest angel, in the person of a self-possessed + and unerringly graceful woman. + + I chanced to be looking on, when Prince ----, one + of the brothers of a royal family of central + Europe, was presented to the Countess ----. It was + at a crowded ball; and I observed that, after a few + minutes of conversation with her, he suddenly + assumed a ceremonious indifference of manner, and + went into another room. I saw at once that the + slightness of the attention was an "anchor to + windward," and that, in even those few minutes the + prince had recognized a rare gem, and foreseen + that, in the pursuit of it, he might need to be + without any remembered particularity of attention. + Lady ----- conversed with him with her usual + earnest openness, but started a little, once or + twice, at words which were certainly unaccompanied + by their corresponding expression of countenance; + and this, too, I put down for an assumption of + disguise on the part of the prince. It was natural + enough; with his conspicuous rank, he could only + venture to be unguarded in his attentions to those + for whom he had no presentiment of future intimacy. + + That the progress of this acquaintance should + assume for me the interest of a drama--a scene of + it played every night, with interludes every day, + in public drives and excursions--would not be + wonderful to you, could I have drawn the portrait + of the principal performer in it, so that you would + understand its novelty. I had never seen such a + woman, and I was intensely interested to know how + she would bear temptation. The peculiar character + of the prince I easily understood; and I felt at + once, that of all stages of an accomplished man's + progress, he was at the one most dangerous to her, + while, perhaps, no other kind of woman in the world + would have called upon any but very practiced + feelings of his own. He was of middle age, and had + intellect enough to have long anticipated the ebb + of pleasure. With his faculties and perceptions in + full force, he was most fastidious in permitting + himself to enjoy an enthusiasm, to admire, to yield + to, or to embark upon with risk. The admiration of + mere beauty, mere style, mere wit, mere superiority + of intellect in woman, or of any of these combined, + was but a recurrent phase of artificial life. He + had been to the terminus, the farthest human + capability of enjoyment of this, and was now back + again to nature, with his keenest relish in + reserve, looking for such outdoings of art as + nature sometimes shows in her caprices. In the + Countess ---- he recognized at once a rare miracle + of this--a woman whose beauty, whose style, whose + intellect, whose pride, were all abundant, but, + abundant as they were, still all subservient to + electric and tumultuous _sensation_. Her life, her + impulse--the consciousness with which she + breathed--was the one gift given her by Heaven in + tenfold measure, and her impression on those she + expanded to, was like the magnetizing presence of + ten full existences poured into one. The heart + acknowledged it before her--though the reason knew + not always why. + + Lord ---- would scarce have been human had he not + loved such a woman, and she his wife. He did love + her--and doubtless loves her at this hour with all + the tenderness of which he could ever be capable. + If they had lived only on their estates in England, + where seclusion would have put up no wall of + concealment to his feelings, she might have drawn + from the open well of his heart, the water for + which her ardent being was athirst. But with the + usage of fashionable life, he followed his own + amusements during the day, leaving the countess to + hers; and in scenes of gayety they were, of course, + still separated by custom; and all she enjoyed of + nature in her rides, or of excitement in society, + was, of course, with others than her husband. + Naples is in the midst of palace-gardens, and of + wonders of scenery--in seeing which love is + engendered in the bosom and brain with tropical + fruitfulness--and Lady ---- could no more have + lived that year in Italy without passionate loving, + than she could have stayed from breathing the + fragrance of the orange blossoms, when galloping + between the terraced gardens of Sorrento. + + * * * * * + + When abroad, a little more than a year ago, I made + a visit to a friend, whose estate is in the same + county with that of the father of Lady ----, and + between whose park-gates and his extends the + distance of a morning's drive through one of the + loveliest hedged winding-roads of lovely England. A + very natural inquiry was of the whereabout and + happiness of the Countess of ----, whom I had left + at Naples ten years before, and had not been in the + way of hearing of since; and I named her in the gay + tone with which one speaks of the brilliant and + happy. We were sitting at the dinner-table, and I + observed that I had mis-struck a chord of feeling + in the company present, and with well-bred tact, + the master of the house informed me that + misfortunes had befallen the family since the + period I spoke of, and turned the conversation to + another topic. After dinner, I heard from him the + following outline of the story, and its affecting + sequel. + + Near the close of the season when Lord ---- was at + Naples, he suddenly left that city and returned + with his wife and their one child to England. To + the surprise of the wondering world, Lady ---- went + to her father's, and Lord ---- to the small estate + of his widowed mother, where they remained for a + while in unexplained seclusion. It was not long + before rumors arrived from Italy, of a nature + breathing upon the reputation of the lady; and soon + after a formal separation took place, Mr. ----, her + father, engaging to leave his whole fortune to the + son of Lord ----, if that nobleman would consent to + give him to the exclusive keeping of his mother. + With these facts ended the world's knowledge of the + parties, the separated pair remaining, year after + year, in absolute seclusion; and Lady ---- never + having been known to put foot beyond the extending + forest in which her home was hidden from view, and + the gates to which were guarded from all entrance, + even of family friends. + + It was but a few days before this sequel was + narrated to me, that the first communication had + been made from the Countess of ---- to her + husband. It was a summons to attend, if he wished, + the burial of his only child--the heir of his name, + and the bringer-back, had he lived, of wealth to + the broken fortunes of his title. A severer blow + could hardly have followed the first--for it struck + down heart, pride, and all that could brighten this + world's future. Lord ----came. The grave was made + in a deep grove of firs on the estate of the boy's + mother. There were but three mourners + present--herself, her father, and her husband. The + boy was ten or eleven years old when he died, and + one of the most gifted and noble lads, in mind and + person, that had ever been seen by those who knew + him. On his horse, with his servant behind him, the + young boy-lord was a constant sight of pride and + beauty to the inhabitants of the county, and was + admired and beloved every where he rode in his + daily excursions. + + The service was read; the two parents stood side by + side at the grave, while the body was laid in + it--the first time they had met since their + separation, and both in the prime of life, and with + hearts yearning--both hearts, beyond a doubt--with + love, and longing for forgiveness; and when the + earth rang on the coffin, they _parted without + exchanging a word_. The carriage of Lord ---- + waited for him in the avenue; and with the expiring + echo of his wheels through that grove of fir-trees, + died all hope and prospect, if any had been + conceived, of a re-union, in grief, of these proud + broken-hearted. + + I have told you thus, with literal truth, all that + I could know of this drama of real life; but, of + course, its sketchy outline could be easily filled + out by fancy. Your readers, perhaps, will like to + do this for themselves. + Yours truly, + N. P. WILLIS. + + + + +LINES TO ----. + +BY CAROLINE F. ORNE. + + + Like a cloud of the summer sunset + Gleaming across the blue, + Like a star of the golden twilight + Through the misty evening dew, + Like a strain of heavenly music + Breathed mournfully and low, + Charming the heart to sadness + By its bewildering flow-- + Thou camest to my presence + In the far off long-ago. + Thou camest for a moment, + Then fleeted swift away, + As the rosy cloud of sunset + Fades at the close of day, + As the beaming star of twilight + Withdraws its golden ray. + Thou hast past from out my presence + As the songs low cadence dies, + Which the heart seeketh ever, + And evermore it flies. + Oh, in my weary journeying + Come to me yet once more, + While still my footsteps wander + On Time's uncertain shore. + Come to me, oh, sweet vision + Of what my soul has sought, + And with mine once more mingle + Thy far, sky-piercing thought. + Call I in vain thy spirit? + Do I seek thee all in vain? + Shall I never hear thy accent + In music fall again? + Why didst thou cross my pathway, + Oh soul so pure and true? + To fade like the clouds of sunset. + Like the star from the misty blue? + + + + +AUTUMNAL SCENERY. + +WHAT IS NECESSARY TO THE ENJOYMENT OF NATURE'S BEAUTIES. + +BY JOSEPH R. CHANDLER. + + +I am not of those who think that a true enjoyment of the beauties of +nature, of natural scenery, and natural objects, generally, is a test +of the purity of principle or the delicacy of sentiment, any more than +I hold that a love of music is essential to domestic, social or +political virtue. The cultivation of the eye and the ear--or the +capabilities in those organs for cultivation--have more to do with all +this than many seem to allow; and men and women of the purest +principles, and the highest benevolence, may stand within the +loveliest scenes that nature has ever spread out, or may listen to the +most delicious music that art has ever prepared and performed, without +comprehending the beauties or the excellence of either, or imagining +that there is a moral test applied to them in these attractions. +Nevertheless, there is an enjoyment in such scenes and such sounds, +and those who are permitted to share therein have another life--or +such an additional enjoyment added to _that_ of ordinary minds, that +they seem to live more, if not longer, in such pleasures than the +common allotment; and none, I suspect, will doubt that the indulgence +of a taste for natural beauties tends to soften the mind, soothe the +passions, and thus elevate the feelings and aspirations. + +If I have less of the power of appreciating and enjoying rural sights +and rural sounds, if there is vouchsafed to me a _limited_ capability +of understanding and delighting in the beauties of the field and wood, +of gathering pleasure from the outstretched loveliness of land and +stream, still I thank God; and I speak with reverence, I thank God +that I have _some_ pleasure in these things; and more than that, I +have a certain fixed delight in noticing the enjoyment which the +better formed and higher cultivated mind derives from what a good +Providence has poured out for the decoration of the earth. Humble as +this faculty may be, which is partly exercised through intermediate +objects, I find it useful to me, and, still better, I find that it +ministers to other pleasures--to enjoy what is lovely is a high and a +cultivated talent--the enjoyment of that loveliness with another +kindred or more elevated mind is a yet higher attainment, as the +performance of _concerted_ music is more difficult and more gratifying +than a simple solo. + +Rarely within my recollection, and that is as inclusive as the +remembrance of almost any around me, rarely has an autumn been more +delightful than that which has just closed, in its clear, shining +sunlight, or more attractive for its bland and healthful temperature. +Not leisure--for that I have little to boast of, or to _fear_. Let my +young readers mark that word, _fear_. I am not about to write a +homily upon the uses of time and talents, but let me parenthetically +note that the gift of enjoying leisure is so rare in the young, that a +lack of constant occupation should be rather feared than courted. I do +not speak of the danger of flagrant vice, but of a growing propensity +to disregard portions of time, because only _portions_ may be +necessary to the discharge of admitted duties--the danger is +imminent--but not to the young alone. In youth, love of action _may_ +employ the leisure to the promotion of vice in age, a tendency to +inertness may induce the abuse of the leisure to total inaction. I can +hardly imagine any object more unsightly than an idle old man--the +dead trunk of a decayed tree, marring the landscape and injuring +culture. But I must return. Not leisure, for I have little of that to +boast of or fear; not leisure, but a love, a growing love for the +partial solitude of the field, and something of an enjoyment of the +elevating communion which it leaves, sent me more than once in +November last strolling beyond the dusty roads and noisy turnpike in +the vicinity of our city. It was, as I have reason to recollect, on +the eighteenth of November, that I was wandering observantly, but in +deep contemplation, across some of the fields that lie near the road +leading from the city to Frankford. It was a lovely day, and every +feeling of my heart was consonant to the scene. Ascending a little +eminence, I obtained an extensive view. The forest trees had lost +their rich garb of mottled beauties, and their denuded limbs stretched +out with attenuated delicacy, seemed to streak the distant horizon +with darkened lines. On my right the winding Delaware lay stretched +out in glassy beauty, and near me, glittering in the sunlight beyond, +were a thousand gossamer webs that had survived a recent storm. The +fields were unusually green, for the season, as if the year were +clothing itself, like an expiring prelate, with its richest +habiliments, that its departure might leave the impress of that beauty +which comes from its usefulness. I had yielded to the influences of +the scene, had allowed my feeling to predominate, and was in the midst +of an unwonted abstraction from all ordinary cares and relations, +catching something of that state with which the more gifted are +indulged, when I was startled by the sound of footsteps upon the +carpet-like grass around me. + +"Hardly looking for game here?" said the person inquiringly. + +"And without dog and gun?" said I. + +"There's not much game in these parts," said he. + +"And yet I was hunting!" said I. "Hunting pleasure from the prospect." + +"I do not derive much pleasure," said my companion, "from such +things. Almost all fields are alike to me. Generally they are places +for labor, or they lie between my residence and labor, and thus make a +toilsome distance." + +"But do you not enjoy the pleasure of this scene? Do you not, while +looking abroad from some eminence, feel a sensation different from +what you experience while walking on the turnpike?" + +"Most generally. I think there was once or twice a feeling came over +me here which I did not exactly understand." + +"And when was that?" + +"Always on Sunday morning, as I have been crossing the field to attend +service at the church yonder. I could not tell whether it was a sense +of relief from ordinary labor, or something connected with the service +in which I was about to join; but, certainly, the fields, and woods, +and water beyond, had a different appearance, and seemed to affect me +differently from their ordinary influence. Perhaps as these feelings +are recent, they may have sprung from another cause." + +"If the beauties of nature, and the influence of religious aspirations +could not account for those feelings which you experienced, I can +scarcely tell whence you derived the sensation." + +"I suppose that all beauties are not discernable at once, and our +sympathies are not all awakened by a single exhibition of what may be +productive of delight or sorrow. Whatever of pleasure I have derived +from the beauties observable from such places as this, are not +primarily referable to my own powers of application, but rather from +the lessons of another--lessons derived from a few words, and from +constant example." + +"And, pray, what _example_ could open to you new beauties in a +landscape, or develop attractions in a scene which you had been in the +habit of seeing for many years?" + +"I do not know that any one has taught me by word and example to see +from any point of observation, aught that I had not discerned before, +but it is certain that what was unnoticeable became an object of +contemplation, and points of the scenery have been made to harmonize +by association, when viewed separately, they had little that was +attractive. + +"A few years since, a young lady, I think of European birth, was +brought to live in the house which stands near yonder clump of trees; +her situation seemed that of an humble companion to the lady--but her +services and her influence made her more than loved. I never saw more +affection exhibited than all of the household manifested toward her. I +cannot tell you what means she used to acquire such a mastery over the +love of all around her, but, though less within the influence of her +attractive manners than some others, I yet shared in the general +feeling of regard. She was a frequent visiter to a small eminence in +this immediate neighborhood, and I often followed her thither, though +I was careful not to reach the place until her departure; and then I +have gone around as she did, looking at the various points of the +scenery, to try to have the enjoyment which was imparted to her from +the visits. Once I came when she was here, and met a condescension +entirely hidden in kindness; she called my attention to what she +designated the numerous beauties of the place, and subsequently I went +frequently to the spot to look at what she had pointed out, and I +think I occasionally derived some new pleasure from the scene. I am +not able now to say whether that pleasure was the result of new +capacities to behold beauties, or whether it was consequent upon my +respect for her who had imparted the lesson. Perhaps both. + +"There was a young man, a relative of Mrs. ----, with whom this lady +resided, that came frequently to the house. I never saw a person +apparently more winning in his manner, or more delicate in his +attentions; and, as all expected, he proposed for marriage to the +young woman. It was thought that there would be objections on the part +of _his_ relations--and there were; but they came from the gentleman +of the house, who plainly declared that the young man was not worthy +of the woman he sought. Her heart, it was evident, was concerned; it +was whispered, I know not how truly, that the youth had associations +in the city unworthy his relations at home. But when do the young and +confiding ever regard monitions of this kind. She, whose good sense +had restored order to a family that needed direction, and had +sustained her against all adverse circumstances among strangers, could +not influence her against the pleadings of her own heart. The young +man, more than a year since, received a commission, and joined the +army at Mexico. He left with her a sealed paper, and his favorite dog. +The animal was already most affectionately attached to her, and now +became her constant companion. Never did I see an animal so completely +devoted to a human being; never was kindness more reciprocated than +was that of the companion of her walks; he patiently awaited at the +door of the church for the conclusion of the services, and at night +held vigils beneath her window. I think the dog, too, must have +understood something of the beauty of this scenery; for I have seen +him for an hour together standing wistfully beside his mistress, and +gazing up into her face, and then not meeting with an encouraging +look, stretching his sight far away in the direction of her eyes, as +if determined to share with her whatever contributed to her pleasure +or her pain. + +"Less than four months ago news reached the family of the death of the +young man--I do not remember the exact time, or the place of the +engagement in which he fell--but his death produced deep sensation in +the family generally, but it went to the heart of the young lady. I +saw her once or twice on her favorite place in the field, but I dared +not approach her--she had no companion but the faithful dog. In two +weeks she was confined to her bed--and shortly afterward the family +was plunged in new afflictions by her death. I was inquiring of one of +the family relative to the particular disease of which she died, and +heard it suggested that it might have been a rapid consumption." + +"I think not," said a very little girl, who had shared in the +affectionate instruction of the deceased. + +"And why?" + +"Can the heart of a person break to pieces?" asked the child. + +"The heart may be broken," I said. + +"Then that is it--for I heard mamma tell sister that Miss Mary's heart +was broken." + +"I have noticed that the death of an affianced one is more severely +felt by a woman, as a severe disturbance of affection, than is the +death of a husband. And I suppose this comes from the delicacy of a +maiden that shrinks from the utterance of a grief which finds vent and +sympathy with a widow. I never hear of such a bereavement without +deeper sorrow for the survivor's sufferings, than I have for the +mourning wife. God help her who's crushed by a grief that she may not +openly indulge; who must hide in her bosom the fire that is consuming +her life." + +The sealed paper was reopened; it contained a rich bequest to the +young woman, and with it was a small piece of paper, containing _her_ +request to be buried beyond us, whence she had so often contemplated +the scene around us. The field was her own property, by the will of +the young man. She relinquished all else of his gift. "We buried her +_there_. I say _we_--for though my position was far below hers, yet +none felt more deeply her loss than those who looked up to admire her. +The little paling that surrounds the eminence was erected to keep away +the foot of the thoughtless. Shall we go to see the grave?" + +I followed the man into the enclosure. The sods which covered the +grave of Mary had not yet united; and one or two seemed to be worn, as +if they had been treated with some rudeness. I drew the attention of +my guide to the abrasion. + +"Ah, yes! that is poor Lara's doings," said he. "Poor dog! I looked +around for him at the funeral, expecting to see him at the grave, but +was disappointed. Every evening since the funeral, just before the sun +goes down, and often in the morning--the hours in which Miss Mary was +wont to come hither to enjoy the scenery--poor Lara has been seen +stretched out upon the grave, uttering his grief in a low wail. I +scarcely believe that he will recover from the loss he has sustained; +and others might be equally unconsolable, if they did not feel that it +is better with Mary now than when she lived." + +When I had looked downward to the grave for a time, and almost into +it, that I might the better contemplate the character and end of her +who rested there, my companion drew my attention to the beauty of what +was around us. + +"Miss Mary loved to stand here," said he, "and enjoy the rich sunset. +Mark, now, how richly its beams are thrown from the windows of yonder +Gothic house beyond the turnpike, and on the new dwelling a little +this side. A mellowness is in that light, to soothe where it falls; +and the whispering of the southern wind that we now hear, is like the +cries of spirits communing with their good sister below us." + +"You seem now to enjoy the scenery, my friend," said I, "as much as +almost any other person." + +"Sir, I have felt, of late, a growing fondness for this place and this +scene; and last Sunday, when returning from the afternoon service, I +stood here almost wrapt in the pleasure which the place afforded to +the departed one, and I have since come to believe that there is +something more than book-knowledge necessary to the relish of natural +scenery." + +"May I ask what that _something_ is, which you think assists us to +appreciate the beauty of a landscape?" + +"Why, sir--perhaps I am wrong, you certainly know better than I--but, +it appears to me, my growing sense of enjoyment in this scene is due +to the memory of the virtues of her whom I constantly connect with +this place, and that enjoyment is fixed and augmented by the frame of +mind in which I go to, or come from the place of worship." + +"If I understand you correctly, you have come to the conclusion that +to enjoy nature, our hearts must be touched, and our affections +mellowed by earthly sympathies, and our views expanded and elevated by +a sense of religious duties." + +"Something like that, sir." + +"And is not that what is understood by 'LOVE TO GOD, AND LOVE TO MAN?'" + + + + +POETRY.--A SONG. + +BY GEORGE P. MORRIS. + + + To me the world's an open book + Of sweet and pleasant poetry; + I read it in the running brook + That sings its way toward the sea: + It whispers in the leaves of trees, + The swelling grain, the waving grass. + And in the cool fresh evening breeze + That crisps the wavelets as they pass. + + The flowers below--the stars above-- + In all their bloom and brightness given, + Are, like the attributes of love, + The poetry of earth and heaven. + Thus Nature's volume, read aright, + Attunes the soul to minstrelsy, + Tinging life's clouds with rosy light, + And all the world with poetry. + + + + +THE MOURNER. + +BY THE LATE DR. JOHN D. GODMAN. + + + Why is thy visage o'ershadowed by gloom, + Are Nature's enchantments not scattered around, + Has the rose lost her fragrance, the tulip her bloom, + Has the streamlet no longer its mild, soothing sound? + Say what are thy pleasures--or whence is thy bliss, + In thy breast can no movements of sympathy rise? + Canst thou glance o'er a region so lovely as this, + And no bright ray of pleasure enliven thine eyes? + Where are there fields more delightfully drest, + In a verdure still fresh'ning with every shower? + Here are oak-covered mountains, with valleys of rest, + Richly clothed in the blossoming sweet scented flower. + Why lingerest thou ever to gaze on that star, + Sinking low in the west e'er the twilight is o'er? + While the shadows of evening extending afar + Bid the warbler's blithe carol be poured forth no more, + Oh why when the Sabbath bell's pleasantest tone + Wakes the soul of devotion in song to rejoice, + Are thy features with sorrow o'erclouded alone, + While no sounds but of sadness are heard from thy voice? + + Listen, while I tell thee, stranger! + In a brief and hurried measure: + Though my soul drink not of pleasure, + Though mine eyes be sunk in gloom; + Tis not from fear of coming danger, + Nor yet from dread of doom. + + The youngest leaves must fall, + When summer beams have ceased to play; + And may not sorrow spread her pall, + When joy, and hope, and love decay? + Earth's loveliest scenes; + The boons of heaven most cherished; + Fields dressed in gladdening greens, + Are drear, when hope has perished: + Spring's beauteousness, + Followed by summer's glory, + May fade without the power to bless, + As doth a dreamed story. + + It gives me peace to gaze at even, + Watching the latest, faintest gleam + Of yon bright traveler of heaven, + Reflected in the silver stream; + For she I love has gently leaned-- + While my fond heart with bliss was swelling-- + Upon my arm, to see descend + That brilliant star in light excelling. + + The chiming bells give joy no more, + Long since the tones have lost their sweetness; + They now but wake me to deplore + The bliss that fled with air-like fleetness. + Blame not my sorrow: chilling pride + Nor clouds my brow nor kills the smile; + For loss of wealth I never sighed, + But all for her I mourn the while. + She was my all, my fairest, dearest, best; + I loved--I lost her--tears may speak the rest. + + + + +ELSIE. + +BY KATE DASHWOOD. + + + A young white rose-bud--with its leaves + Just blown apart, and wet with dew-- + A fair child in a garland weaves + 'Mid glowing flowers of every hue. + She sitteth by the rushing river, + While the soft and balmy air + Scarce stirs the starry flowers that quiver + Amid her sunny hair-- + Thou of the laughing eyes! 'mid all + The roses of thy coronal-- + Thou'rt fairest of the fair. + + Ah, bright young dreamer! may thy heart + In its early freshness ever be + Pure as the leaves--just blown apart-- + Of the rose thou'rt wreathing in childish glee. + Ah, well I know those flowers thou'rt twining + For thy fair pale mother dear-- + For the love-light in those blue eyes shining + Is shadowed by a tear; + And thy thoughts are now in that dim, hushed room-- + With the sad, sweet smile, and the fading bloom-- + _Thou'rt all too young to fear._ + + + + +SONNET TO ----. + + + The crimson clouds had gathered round the sun, + Sinking full slowly to his nightly rest, + And gilding with a glory all his own + The bannered splendor of the glowing west, + Entranced I gazed upon the gorgeous scene + That thus so fair before my vision lay; + The calm, serene, blue heavens looked out between, + And softly smiled upon retiring day. + All was so beautiful, I could but feel + A shade of sadness that thou wert not nigh, + The radiant glory to behold with me; + And still the thought would o'er my spirit steal, + That all the clouds and mists in my dark sky + Would gather rays of glory, my life's sun, from thee! + C. O. + + + + +GAME-BIRDS OF AMERICA.--NO. VIII. + +AMERICAN STARLING OR MEADOW-LARK. + + +This well-known inhabitant of our meadows like the Partridge, is +sociable, somewhat gregarious, and partially migratory. The change of +country, however, appears to be occasioned only by scarcity of food, +and many of them pass the whole winter with us. They may be bought in +our markets when snow is on the ground; and in the month of February, +Wilson found them picking up a scanty subsistence in the company of +the snow-birds, on a road over the heights of the Alleghanies. Its +flight, like that of the Partridge, is laborious and steady. Though +they collect their food from the ground, they are frequently shot on +trees, their perch being either the main branches, or the topmost +twigs. At the time of pairing, they exhibit a little of the jealous +disposition of the tribe, but his character vindicated by his bravery, +and the victory achieved, he retires from his fraternity to assist his +mate in the formation of her nest. The flesh of the Meadow-Lark is +white, and for size and delicacy, it is considered little inferior to +the Partridge. In length, he measures ten and a half inches, in alar +extent, nearly seventeen. Above, his plumage, as described by Nuttall, +is variegated with black, bright bay, and ochreous. Tail, wedged, the +feathers pointed, the four outer nearly all white; sides, thighs, and +vent, pale ochreous, spotted with black; upper mandible brown, the +lower bluish-white; iris, hazel; legs and feet, large, pale +flesh-colour. In the young bird the color is much fainter than in the +adult. + +[Illustration: RICE BUNTING. (_Emberiza Oryzivora._ WILSON.)] + +This is the Rice and Reed-Bird of Pennsylvania and the Southern +States, and the Boblink of New York and New England. He is of little +size, but of great consequence, hailed with pleasure by the sportsman +and the epicure, and dreaded as worse than a locust by the careful +planter. Wilson has treated of him fully, and from his eloquent +account we shall endeavor to select a few points in his history worthy +of notice. According to his best biographer, then, three good +qualities recommend him, particularly as these three are rarely found +in the same individual--his plumage is beautiful, his song highly +musical, and his flesh excellent. To these he added the immense range +of his migrations, and the havoc he commits. The winter residence of +this species is from Mexico to the Amazon, from whence they issue in +great hosts every spring. In the whole United States, north of +Pennsylvania, they remain during the summer, raising their progeny; +and as soon as the young are able to fly they collect together in +great multitudes, and pour down on the oat-fields of New England. +During the breeding season, they are dispersed over the country; but +as soon as the young are able to fly, they collect together in great +multitudes, like a torrent, depriving the proprietors of a good tithe +of their harvest, but in return often supply his table with a very +delicious dish. From all parts of the north and western regions they +direct their course toward the south, and about the middle of August, +revisit Pennsylvania, on their route to winter quarters. For several +days they seem to confine themselves to the fields and uplands; but as +soon as the seeds of the reed are ripe, they resort to the shores of +the Delaware and Schuylkill in multitudes; and these places, during +the remainder of their stay, appear to be their grand rendezvous. The +reeds, or wild oats, furnish them with such abundance of nutritious +food, that in a short time they become extremely fat, and are supposed +by some of our epicures to be equal to the famous Ortolans of Europe. +Their note at this season is a single chuck, and is heard overhead, +with little intermission from morning till night. These are halcyon +days for our gunners of all descriptions, and many a lame and rusty +gun-barrel is put in requisition for the sport. The report of musketry +along the reedy shores of the Delaware and Schuylkill is almost +incessant, resembling a running fire. The markets of Philadelphia, at +this season, exhibit proofs of the prodigious havoc made among these +birds, for almost every stall is ornamented with some hundreds of +Reed Birds. + +The Rice Bunting is seven inches and a half long, and eleven and a +half in extent. His spring dress is as follows: upper part of the +head, wings, tail, and sides of the neck, and whole lower parts, +black; the feathers frequently skirted with brownish-yellow, as he +passes into the color of the female; back of the head, a cream color; +back, black, seamed with brownish-yellow; scapulars, pure white; rump +and tail coverts the same; lower part of the back, bluish-white; tail, +formed like those of the Woodpecker genus, and often used in the same +manner, being thrown in to support it while ascending the stalks of +the reed; this habit of throwing in the tail it retains even in the +cage; legs, a brownish flesh color; hind heel, very long; bill, a +bluish-horn color; eye, hazel. In the month of June this plumage +gradually changes to a brownish-yellow, like that of the female, which +has the back streaked with brownish-black; whole lower parts, +dull-yellow; bill, reddish-flesh color; legs and eyes as in the male. +The young birds retain the dress of the female until early in the +succeeding spring. The plumage of the female undergoes no material +change of color. + +[Illustration: CEDAR BIRD. (_Ampelis Americana._)] + +The Cedar-Bird, (_Ampelis Americana_,) is very frequently shot at the +same time with the Robin. The plumage of this bird is of an +exquisitely fine and silky texture, lying extremely smooth and glossy. +The name Chatterers has been given to them, but they make only a +feeble, lisping sound, chiefly as they rise or alight. On the Blue +Mountains, and other ridges of the Alleghanies, they spend the months +of August and September, feeding on the abundant whortleberries; then +they descend to the lower cultivated parts of the country to feed on +the berries of the sour gum and red cedar. In the fall and beginning +of summer, when fat, they are in high esteem for the table, and great +numbers find purchasers in the market of Philadelphia. They have +derived their name from one kind of their favorite food; from other +sorts they have also been called Cherry Birds, and to some they are +known by the name of Crown Birds. + + + + +REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. + + + _The Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck. Now + first collected. Illustrated with Steel Engravings, + from drawings by American Artists. New York: D. + Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 8vo._ + +This volume is a perfect luxury to the eye, in its typography and +embellishments. The fact of an author's appearance in so rich a dress, +is itself an evidence of his popularity. We have here, for the first +time, a complete edition of the author's poems, tender and humorous, +serious and satirical, in a beautiful form. It contains Alnwick +Castle, Burns, Marco Bozzarris, Red Jacket, A Poet's Daughter, +Connecticut, Wyoming, and other pieces which have passed into the +memory of the nation, together with the delicious poem of Fanny, and +the celebrated Croaker Epistles. The illustrations are all by American +artists, and really embellish the volume. The portrait of Halleck is +exceedingly characteristic of the man, expressing that union of +intellect and fancy, sound sense, and poetic power, which his +productions are so calculated to suggest. His great popularity--a +popularity which has always made the supply of his poems inferior to +the demand--will doubtless send the present magnificent volume through +many editions. + +The poems of Halleck are not only good in themselves, but they give an +impression of greater powers than they embody. They seem to indicate a +large, broad, vigorous mind, of which poetry has been the recreation +rather than the vocation. A brilliant mischievousness, in which the +serious and the ludicrous, the tender and the comic, the practical and +the ideal, are brought rapidly together, is the leading characteristic +of his muse. In almost every poem in his volume, serious, or +semi-serious, the object appears to be the production of striking +effects by violent contrasts. The poet himself rarely seems thoroughly +in earnest, though at the same time he never lacks heartiness. There +are two splendid exceptions to this remark--Burns, and Marco +Bozzarris--poems in which the delicacy and energy of the author's mind +find free expression. They show that if the poet commonly plays with +his subject, it is not from an incapacity to feel and conceive it +vividly, but from a beautiful willfulness of nature, which is +impatient of the control of one idea or emotion. Halleck's perceptions +of the ideal and practical appears equally clear and vivid. His fancy +cannot suggest a poetical view of life, without his wit at the same +time suggesting its prosaic counterpart in society. A mind thus +exquisitely sensitive both to the beautiful and laughable sides of a +subject--looking at life at once with the eye of the poet and the man +of the world--naturally finds delight in a fine mockery of its own +idealisms, and loves to sport with its own high-raised feelings. His +poetry is not, therefore, so much an exhibition of the real nature and +capacity of the man, as of the play and inter-penetration of his +various mental powers, in periods of pleasant relaxation from the +business of life. In a few instances, we think, his humorous insight +has been deceived from the unconscious influence upon his mind of the +sentiment of Byron and Moore. Thus he occasionally falls into the +exaggerations of misanthropy and sentimentality. In his poem entitled +Woman, we are informed that man has no constancy of affection,-- + + His vows are broke, + Even while his parting kiss is warm; + But woman's love all change will mock, + And, like the ivy round the oak, + Cling closest in the storm. + +Here, for the purpose of a vivid contrast, there is a sacrifice of +poetic truth. The same piece closes with asserting that the smiles and +tears of woman, + + Alone keep bright, through Time's long hour, + That frailer thing than leaf or flower, + A poet's immortality. + +Here the thought, redeemed as it is by beautiful expression, is worthy +only of a sentimental poetaster of the Della Cruscan school; and we +can easily imagine what a mocking twinkle would light the eye of its +author, if some one should tell him that Homer, Dante, Shakspeare, and +Milton were "kept bright" by the smiles and tears of woman. These, and +one or two other passages in Halleck, are unworthy of his manly and +cant-hating mind; and it is wonderful how they could have escaped his +brilliant good sense. + +Fanny, and the Croaker Epistles are the most brilliant things of their +kind in American literature, full of wit, fancy, and feeling, and in +all their rapid transitions, characterized by an ethereal lightness of +movement, a glancing felicity of expression, which betray a poet's +plastic touch equally in the sentiment and the merriment. No American +poems have been more eagerly sought after, and more provokingly +concealed, than these. Three editions of Fanny have been published, +but the difficulty of obtaining a copy has always been great. Many who +were smitten with a love for it have been compelled to transcribe it +from the copy of a more fortunate collector. The Croaker Epistles have +been even more cunningly suppressed. Now we have both in a form which +will endure with the stereotype plates. They evince the most brilliant +characteristics of Halleck's genius, and continually suggest the +thought, that if the mind of the author be so powerful and various in +its almost extempore sport and play, it must have still greater +capacity in itself. + +Fanny, and the Croaker Epistles swarm with local and personal +allusions which a New-Yorker alone can fully appreciate. Van Buren, +Webster, Clinton, the politicians and authors generally of the period +when the poems were written, are all touched with a light and graceful +pencil. Fanny is conceived and executed after the manner of Byron's +Beppo and Don Juan. It is full of brilliant rogueries, produced by +bringing sentiment and satire together with a shock. For instance, + + Dear to the exile is his native land, + In memory's twilight beauty seen afar: + Dear to the broker is a note of hand + Collaterally secured--the polar star + Is dear at midnight to the sailor's eyes, + _And dear are Bristed's volumes at half price._ + + The sun is loveliest as he sinks to rest; + The leaves of Autumn smile when fading fast; + The swan's last song is sweetest--and the best + Of Meigs's speeches, doubtless, was his last. + +In a mocking attempt to prove that New York exceeded Greece in the +Fine Arts, we have the following convincing arguments: + + In sculpture we've a grace the Grecian master, + Blushing, had owned his purest model lacks; + We've Mr. Bogart in the best of plaster, + The Witch of Endor in the best of wax, + Beside the head of Franklin on the roof + Of Mr. Lang, both jest and weather-proof. + + * * * * * + +In painting we have Trumbull's proud _chef d'oeuvre_, Blending in one +the funny and the fine; + + His independence will endure forever-- + And so will Mr. Allen's lottery sign; + And all that grace the Academy of Arts, + From Dr. Hosack's face to Bonaparte's. + + In physic, we have Francis and McNeven, + Famed for long heads, short lectures, and long bills; + And Quackenboss, and others, who from heaven + _Were rained upon us in a shower of pills._ + +It would be impossible to give a notion of the genial satire of the +Croakers by extracts. The following, from the epistle to the Recorder, +is unmatched for felicity and exquisite contrast: + + The Caesar passed the Rubicon + With helm, and shield, and breast-plate on, + Dashing his war-horse through the waters; + The R*d*r would have built a barge, + Or steamboat, at the city's charge, + And passed it with his wife and daughters. + +In the same piece occurs the following fine tribute to Bryant: + + Bryant, whose songs are thoughts that bless + The heart, its teachers, and its joy, + As mothers blend with their caress + Lessons of truth and gentleness, + And virtue for the listening boy. + Spring's lovelier flowers for many a day + Have blossomed on his wandering way, + Beings of beauty and decay, + They slumber in their autumn tomb; + But those that graced his own Green River, + And wreathed the lattice of his home, + Charmed by his song from mortal doom, + Bloom on, and will bloom on forever. + +Pope has become famous for his divine compliments, but certainly no +poet ever celebrated the genius of another with more felicity and +sweetness than in the above beautiful passage. + +It would be impossible to notice all the striking poems in this +volume--and they are too favorably known to need it. There is one +piece, however, which deserves especial commendation, and its merits +do not appear to have called forth the eulogy which has been +bountifully lavished on many others. We allude to his exquisite +translation from Goethe, on the eighty-third page--the invocation to +the ideal world, which precedes Faust. It is one of the gems of the +volume. + + + _The Poetical Works of Lord Byron. Complete in one + Volume. Collected and Arranged, with Illustrative + Notes. Illustrated by Elegant Steel Engravings. New + York: D. Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 8vo._ + +This edition of Byron might bear the palm from all other American +editions, in respect to its combination of cheapness with elegance, if +it were not the most valuable in point of completeness and +illustrative notes. It is a reprint of Murray's Library edition, and +while executed in a similar style of typography, excells it, if we are +not mistaken, in the number of its embellishments. It contains an +admirable portrait of Byron, a view of Newstead Abbey, and also six +fine steel engravings, executed with great beauty and finish. It is +uniform with the same publisher's library edition of Southey and +Moore, contains eight hundred pages of closely printed matter, and +includes every thing that Byron wrote in verse. It does honor to the +enterprise and taste of the publishers, and will doubtless have a +circulation commensurate with its merits. As long as our American +booksellers evince a disposition to publish classical works in so +beautiful a form, it is a pleasant duty of the press to commend their +editions. We cordially wish success to all speculations which imply a +confidence in the public taste. + +It would be needless here to express any opinion of the intellectual +or moral character of Byron's poems. Everybody's mind is made up on +those points. The present edition is admirably adapted to convey to +the reader Byron's idea of himself, the opinions formed of him by his +contemporaries, and the effect of his several works on the public mind +as they appeared. It contains an immense number of notes by Moore, +Scott, Jeffrey, Campbell, Wilson, Rogers, Heber, Milman, Gifford, +Ellis, Bridges, and others, which will be found extremely useful and +entertaining. Extracts are taken from Byron's own diary, and from the +recorders of his conversations, giving an accurate impression of each +poem, as regards its time and manner of composition, the feelings from +which it sprung, and the opinion he entertained of its reception by +the public. Profuse quotations are made from the first draught of each +poem, showing how some of the most striking ideas were originally +written, and the improvements introduced in their expression by the +author's "sober second thoughts." The opinions expressed of the +various poems by the leading reviews of the time, including the +criticisms of Scott, Jeffrey, Gifford, Heber, and others, are largely +quoted. Added to these are numerous notes, explaining allusions, or +illustrating images which the common reader might be supposed not to +understand. Taken altogether, the edition will enable almost any +person to obtain a clear understanding of Byron and his works, without +any trouble or inconvenience. There is no other edition which can +compare with it in this respect. + +Many of the notes are exceedingly curious, and if not absolutely new, +have been gathered from such a wide variety of sources, as to be novel +to a majority of readers. We have been struck with the impression +which Byron's energy made upon Dr. Parr, the veteran linguist. After +reading the Island, he exclaims--"Byron! the sorcerer! He can do with +me according to his will. If it is to throw me headlong upon a desert +island; if it is to place me on the summit of a dizzy cliff--his power +is the same. I wish he had a friend, or a servant, appointed to the +office of the slave, who was to knock every morning at the +chamber-door of Philip of Macedon, and remind him he was mortal." From +Parr's life we learn that Sardanapalus affected him even more +strongly. "In the course of the evening the doctor cried out, 'Have +you read Sardanapalus?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Right; and you couldn't sleep a +wink after it?' 'No.' 'Right, right--now don't say a word more about +it to-night.' The memory of that fine poem seemed to act like a spell +of horrible fascination upon him." Perhaps from a few anecdotes like +this, we gain a much more vivid impression of the sensation which +Byron's poems excited on their first appearance, and their strong hold +upon the imagination and passions of the public, than we could obtain +from the most elaborate description of their effects. If such was +their power upon an old scholar like Parr, what must have been their +influence upon younger and more inflammable minds? + +The editor's preface to Don Juan is no less valuable than +entertaining. It contains not merely the opinions expressed of the +poem by the reviews and magazines, but those of the newspapers, and +enables us to gather the judgment of the English people upon that +strange combination of sublimity and ribaldry, sentiment and wit, +tenderness and mockery, at the time it first blazed forth from the +press. The suppressed dedication of the poem to Southey is also given +in full, with all its brutal blackguardism and drunken brilliancy. In +truth, the volume conveys an accurate impression of all the sides of +Byron's versatile nature, and from its very completeness is the less +likely to be injurious. There is no edition of his poems which we +could more safely commend to the reader, as it exhibits Byron the +poet, Byron the scoffer, Byron the roue, in his true colors and real +dimensions; and if, after reading it, a person should adopt the old +cant about his brilliant rascalities, and the old drivel about his +sentimental misanthropy, the fault is in the reader rather than the +volume. For our own part we are acquainted with no edition of any +celebrated author, equaling this in the remorselessness with which the +man is stripped of all the factitious coverings of the poet, and +stands out more clearly in his true nature and character. + + + _The Life of Henry the Fourth, King of France and + Navarre. By G. P. R. James. New York: Harper & + Brothers. 2 vols. 12mo._ + +Few kings have been so fortunate as Henry the Fourth in the reputation +and good will they have obtained from the people. By democrats as well +as monarchists his name is held in a kind of loving veneration. Much +of this popularity is doubtless owing to his superiority, in +disposition as well as mind, to the ferocious bigotry of his age, and +to his great edict of toleration which healed for a time the horrible +religious dissensions of France. Apart from his ability, however, his +virtues as a king sprung rather from good-nature and benevolence, than +from moral or religious principle. His toleration was the result of +his indifference as much as his good sense; and he was not a +persecutor, because to him neither Catholicism nor Protestantism was +of sufficient importance to justify persecution. He was a fanatic only +in sensuality; and if he committed crime, it would be rather for a +mistress than a doctrine. The last act of his reign, growing out of +his impatience in having his designs on the Princess of Conde baffled, +showed that lust could urge him into an unjust and unprincipled war, +where religious superstition would have been totally ineffective. + +Mr. James's Life of Henry is a careful compilation from the most +reliable sources of information, and embodies a large amount of +important knowledge. Though far from realizing the higher conditions +of historical art, it is more accurate and spirited than the general +run of historical works. Mr. James's conscience in the matter of the +present book, seems to have been much greater than we might have +expected from the king of book-makers. When his history was ready for +the press, the French Government commenced publishing the "Lettres +Missives" of Henry IV., and Mr. James delayed his book four years, in +order that its facts might be verified or increased by comparison with +that important publication. His work, therefore, is probably the +fullest and most accurate one we possess on the age of which it +treats. It is well worthy of an attentive perusal. It abounds in +incidents and characters which would make the fortune of a novel, and +is an illustration of that kind of truth which is stranger than +fiction. The Harpers have issued the work in a tasteful form. + + + _Artist Life. By H. T. Tuckerman. New York: D. + Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 12mo._ + +Mr. Tuckerman is an author whose productions we have repeatedly had +occasion to notice and to praise. They have always a finished air, +which favorably distinguishes them from many American publications, +the products of mingled talent and haste. Mr Tuckerman does not appear +to rush into print, with unformed ideas hastily clad in a loose +undress of language--as if the palm of excellence were due to the +swiftest runner in the race of expression. His style is clear, +polished, graceful, and harmonious, combining a flowing movement with +condensation, and free from the tricks and charlatanries of diction. +He is not so popular as he would be if he made more noise about his +words and thoughts, and called the attention of the public to every +felicity of his style or reflection by a pugnacious manner, and a +strained expression. Though possessing a singularly rich and +suggestive fancy, and a wide variety of information, his use of +ornament and allusion is characterized by a taste, an appropriateness, +a reserve, which men of smaller stores rarely practice. As a critic, +he is calm, clear, judicious, sympathetic, and making the application +of a principle all the more stringent, from his vivid perception of +the object of his criticism. The present volume is worthy of its +subject, and is more calculated to convey accurate information of the +lives, character, and works of American artists, than any other we +have seen. It is also exceedingly interesting, being full of anecdotes +and biographical memoranda of artists who are commonly known only as +painters, not as men. In this respect the volume contains much +original information, which will be valuable to the future historian +of American art. In his criticism, Mr. Tuckerman evinces knowledge as +well as taste; and by avoiding technical terms, he contrives to render +agreeable and clear what is generally unintelligible to the +uninitiated reader of _critiques_ on paintings. The volume contains, +among other sketches and biographies, very interesting notices of the +lives and works of West, Copley, Stuart, Allston, Morse, Durand, W. E. +West, Sully, Inman, Cole, Weir, Leutze, and Brown. + + + _Appleton's Library Manuel: Containing a Catalogue + Raisonne of upwards of Twelve Thousand of the most + Important Works in Every Department of Knowledge, + in all Modern Languages, New York; D. Appleton & + Co. 1 vol. 8vo._ + +This is one of the most available and valuable bibliographical works +extant. Its object is indicated by its title. Such a book should be in +the possession of every student, scholar, book-collector, and +librarian. There is hardly a subject which can attract the attention +of an inquisitive mind, which is not included in this collection, and +the titles of the best books, in different languages, which relate to +it given in full, with the various editions, and their price. It would +be needless to dilate upon the value of such a work. The compilers +deserve the highest credit for the labor, intelligence, and expense +they have devoted to it. The cost is but one dollar. + + + _Sybil Lennard, a Record of Woman's Life._ + +Mrs. Grey is one of the most popular novel writers of the present day, +and Sybil Lennard is unquestionably the best of her works. It is +published by Mr. T. B. Peterson, by whom the advance sheets were +procured from England. + + + _Chambers' Miscellany._ + +Part No. 5, of Chamber's interesting Miscellany has been published, +and the articles it contains are of the highest order of excellence. +Messrs. Zieber & Co. are the Philadelphia publishers. + + * * * * * + + +POSTHUMOUS WRITINGS OF JOSEPH C. NEAL, ESQ.--We have several admirable +Charcoal Sketches by Mr. Neal--a rich legacy bequeathed expressly to +us by our gifted and lamented friend. Now that the fountain, whose +outpourings have so often enriched our pages, is forever closed, these +gems of genius will have a new and peculiar value. We commence their +publication in our present number. + + * * * * * + +THE NEW YORK MIRROR.--This journal is edited with surpassing ability; +and its continued and advancing popularity is creditable to the taste +of the community in which it is published. Spirited, independent, and +liberal, it not merely, as its name indicates, reflects the light of +the age, but shines with a lustre of its own. It is well worthy its +good fortune. + + +Transcriber's Note: + +Some likely incorrect spellings and probable dialect have been left as +printed, but the following corrections have been made: + +1. page 2--removed extra word 'the' after '...before the windows + lounged...' + +2. page 6--typo 'Jenning' corrected to 'Jennings' + +3. page 9--added missing double quotation mark at start of sentence + 'What do I see! My dearest...' + +4. page 10--added double quotation mark after 'Nonsense--what payment,' + +5. page 10--added double quotation mark at end of paragraph '...and + proceedings commence directly.' + +6. page 18--added double quotation mark missing at start of paragraph + 'Oh I'll soon show you,' + +7. page 23--added missing period in sentence 'our prosodies call + anapoests' + +8. page 28--removed extra 'a' in second line of stanza beginning 'Did he + answer guiltless, lo!' + +9. page 28--typo 'stife' corrected to 'strife' + +10. page 32--added period to sentence '...whither he was going' + +11. page 43--likely missing word 'for' inserted in sentence '...off + the dangers ahead for a single instant.' + +12. page 45--typo 'exhaused' corrected to 'exhausted' + +13. page 46--typo 'minuute' corrected to 'minute' + +14. page 58--typo 'observatious' corrected to 'observations' + +15. page 66--inserted opening quotation mark at assumed start of speech + "We buried her _there_. I say..." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 +January 1848, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE VOL XXXII *** + +***** This file should be named 29187.txt or 29187.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/1/8/29187/ + +Produced by David T. Jones, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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