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diff --git a/old/30415-8.txt b/old/30415-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..422c7ba --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30415-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10986 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, 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: The Galaxy + Vol. 23, No. 1 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 7, 2009 [EBook #30415] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Carla Foust, Bill Tozier and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +Transcriber's note + + +All apparent printer's errors have been retained. + +In this version the superscript is indicated by ^. + + + + + THE GALAXY. + + A MAGAZINE OF ENTERTAINING READING. + + VOL. XXIII. + + JANUARY, 1877, TO JUNE, 1877. + + NEW YORK: Sheldon & Company, + + 1877. + + + + + Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by + SHELDON & COMPANY, + in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. + + + Typography of CHURCHWELL & TEALL. Electrotyped by SMITH & MCDOUGAL. + + + + +INDEX TO VOLUME XXIII. + + + PAGE. + + Administration of Abraham Lincoln _Gideon Welles_ 5, 149 + + Almanacs, Some Old _Charles Wyllys Elliott_ 24 + + Alnaschar. 1876 _Bret Harte_ 217 + + Alfred de Musset _Henry James, Jr._ 790 + + Applied Science _Charles Barnard_ 79, 160 + + Art's Limitations _Margaret J. Preston_ 159 + + Assja _Ivan Tourguéneff_ 368 + + Aut Diabolus aut Nihil 218 + + Ballad of Constance _William Winter_ 109 + + Balzac, Letters of _Henry James, Jr._ 183 + + Battalion, The _J. W. De Forest_ 817 + + Beer _S. G. Young_ 62 + + Beethoven, To _Sidney Lanier_ 394 + + Cigarettes 471 + + Cleopatra's Soliloquy _Mary Bayard Clarke_ 506 + + Climbing Rose, The 596 + + Cossacks, An Evening Party with the _David Ker_ 406 + + Dead Star, The _John James Piatt_ 660 + + Dead Vashti, A _Louise Stockton_ 428 + + Defeated _Mary L. Ritter_ 354 + + Dramatic Canons, The _Frederick Whittaker_ 396, 508 + + DRIFT-WOOD _Philip Quilibet_ 125, 265, + 411, 553, + 695, 842 + + The Twelve-Month Sermon; Ribbons and Coronets at Market Rates; The + Spinning of Literature; Growth of American Taste for Art; The Wills + of the Triumvirate; The Duel and the Newspapers; The Industry of + Interviewers; Talk about Novels; Primogeniture and Public Bequests; + The Times and the Customs; Victor Hugo; Evolutionary Hints for + Novelists; The Travellers; Swindlers and Dupes; Pegasus in Harness. + + Eastern Question, The _A. H. Guernsey_ 359 + + English Peerage, The _E. C. Grenville Murray_ 293 + + English Traits _Richard Grant White_ 520 + + English Women _Richard Grant White_ 675 + + Executive Patronage and Civil + Service Reform _J. L. M. Curry_ 826 + + Fascinations of Angling, The _George Dawson_ 818 + + Fallen Among Thieves 809 + + Great Seal of the United States _John D. Champlin, Jr._ 691 + + Hard Times _Charles Wyllys Elliott_ 474 + + Head of Hercules, The _James M. Floyd_ 52 + + Heartbreak Cameo _Lizzie W. Champney_ 111 + + Home of My Heart _F. W. Bourdillon_ 543 + + Influences _Charles Carroll_ 124 + + Juliet on the Balcony _Howard Glyndon_ 42 + + Lassie's Complaint, The _James Kennedy_ 367 + + Libraries, Public in the United + States _John A. Church_ 639 + + Life Insurance 686, 803 + + LITERATURE, CURRENT 137, 279, + 425, 567, + 708, 855 + + Love's Messengers _Mary Ainge De Vere_ 51 + + Love's Requiem _William Winter_ 182 + + Lucille's Letter 23 + + Madcap Violet. Chapters XLIV. to + End _William Black_ 30 + + Margary, The Murder of _Walter A. Burlingame_ 175 + + Miss Misanthrope. Chapters I. to + XX. _Justin McCarthy_ 244, 302, + 450, 597, + 746 + + Miss Tinsel _Henry Sedley_ 337 + + Mohegan-Hudson _James Manning Winchell_ 637 + + Monsieur Delille _T. S. Fay_ 119 + + National Bank Notes, How Redeemed _Frank W. Lautz_ 647 + + NEBULÆ _By The Editor_ 144, 288, + 431, 576, + 720, 864 + + Normandy and Pyrenees _Henry James, Jr._ 95 + + On Being Born Away from Home _Titus Munson Coan_ 533 + + Our Rural Divinity _John Burroughs_ 43 + + Philter, The _Mary B. Dodge_ 242 + + Portrait D'une Jeune Femme + Inconnue _M. E. W. S._ 336 + + Progressive Baby, A _S. F. Hopkins_ 81, 727 + + Punished, The _Ella Wheeler_ 789 + + Pythia, The Modern _S. B. Luce_ 209 + + Renunciation _Kate Hillard_ 358 + + Reflected Light _Mary Ainge De Vere_ 802 + + Romance _J. W. De Forest_ 61 + + Roman Picture, A _Mary Lowe Dickinson_ 674 + + Saint Lambert's Coal _Margaret J. Preston_ 519 + + SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY _Prof. John A. + Church_ 129, 269, + 415, 558, + 699, 846 + + Complications of the Channel Tunnel; A Town of Dwarfs; Whooping + Cough; British Association Notes; An English Crop; Influence of + White Colors; An Involved Accident; An Old Aqueduct System; + Galvanism Cannot Restore Exhausted Vitality; Curious Optical + Experiments; Ice Machines; American Antiquities; Protection from + Lightning; Steam Machinery and Privateering; Man and Animals; The + Limbs of Whales; Our Educational Standing; Surface Markings; The + Oldest Stone Tools; Origin of the Spanish People; The English + Meteorite; The Boomerang; A Western Lava Field; The Principle of + Cephalization; Curiosities of the Herring Fishery; Natural Gas in + Furnaces; South Carolina Phosphates; Rare Metals from Old Coins; A + French Mountain Weather Station; Migration of the Lemming; New + Discovery of Neolithic Remains; October Weather; French National + Antiquities; The Force of Crystallization; Frozen Nitro-Glycerine; + English Great Guns; Ear Trumpets for Pilots; Hot Water in Dressing + Ores; Ocean Echoes; The Delicacy of Chemists' Balances; Government + Control of the Dead; Microscopic Life; The Sources of Potable Water; + Theory of the Radiometer; Tempered Glass in The Household; The New + York Aquarium; The Cruelty of Hunting; The Gorilla in Confinement; + Instruction Shops In Boston; Moon Madness; The Argument against + Vaccination; The Telephone; Damages by an Insect; The Summer + Scientific Schools; An Intelligent Quarantine; The "Grasshopper + Commission"; Surveying Plans for the Season; The Causes of Violent + Death; A New Induction Coil; French Property Owners; Trigonometrical + Survey of New York; The Use of Air in Ore Dressing; Polar + Colonization; The Survey in California; A German Savant among the + Sioux; Ballooning for Air Currents; The Greatest of Rifles; Vienna + Bread; Modern Loss in Warfare; A New Treasury Rule; A Hygienic + School; Microscopic Comparison of Blood Corpuscles; The Summer + Scientific Schools; The Wages Value of Steam Power; The Negro's + Color; Scientific Items. + + Shakespeare, On Reading _Richard Grant White_ 70, 233 + + Shall Punishment Punish? _Chauncey Hickox_ 355 + + Sister St. Luke _Constance Fenimore + Woolson_ 489 + + Sounding Brass _Lizzie W. Champney_ 671 + + South, The, Her Condition and Needs _Hon. J. L. M. Curry_ 544 + + Story of a Lion _Albert Rhodes_ 196 + + Spring _H. R. H._ 841 + + Spring Longing _Emma Lazarus_ 725 + + Theatres of London _Henry James, Jr._ 661 + + Three Periods of Modern Music _Richard Grant White_ 832 + + Théâtre Français, The _Henry James, Jr._ 437 + + Tried and True _Sylvester Baxter_ 470 + + Two Worlds, The _Ellice Hopkins_ 488 + + Unknown Persons _Mary Murdoch Mason_ 657 + + "Uniformed Militia" Service, The _C. H. M._ 776 + + Walt Whitman, To _Joaquin Miller_ 29 + + Woman's Gifts, A _Mary Ainge De Vere_ 208 + + Wordsworth's Corrections _Titus Munson Coan_ 322 + + Yosemite Hermit, The _Clara G. Dolliver_ 782 + + + + +THE GALAXY. + +VOL. XXIII.--JANUARY, 1877.--No. 1. + + + + +ADMINISTRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. + + +The political differences which have generated parties in this country +date back to an early period. They existed under the old confederation, +were perceptible in the formation of the Constitution and establishment +of "a more perfect union." Differences on fundamental principles of +government led to the organization of parties which, under various +names, after the adoption of the Federal Constitution, divided the +people and influenced and often controlled national and State elections. +Neither of the parties, however, has always strictly adhered or been +true to its professed principles. Each has, under the pressure of +circumstances and to secure temporary ascendancy in the Federal or State +governments, departed from the landmarks and traditions which gave it +its distinctive character. The _Centralists_, a name which more +significantly than any other expresses the character, principles, and +tendency of those who favor centralization of power in a supreme head +that shall exercise paternal control over States and people, have under +various names constituted one party. On the other hand, the _Statists_, +under different names, have from the first been jealous of central +supremacy. They believe in local self-government, support the States in +all their reserved and ungranted rights, insist on a strict construction +of the Constitution and the limitation of Federal authority to the +powers specifically delegated in that instrument. + +The broad and deep line of demarcation between these parties has not +always been acknowledged. Innovation and change have sometimes modified +and disturbed this line; but after a period the distinctive boundary has +reappeared and antagonized the people. During the administration of Mr. +Monroe, known as the "era of good feeling," national party lines were +almost totally obliterated, and local and personal controversies took +their place. National questions were revived, however, and contested +with extreme violence during several succeeding administrations. Thirty +years later, when the issues of bank, tariff, internal improvements, and +an independent treasury were disposed of, there was as complete a break +up of parties as in the days of Monroe. It was not, however, in an "era +of good feeling" that this later dislocation of parties took place; but +an attempt was made in 1850 by leading politicians belonging to +different organizations to unite the people by a compromise or an +arrangement as unnatural as it was insincere--party lines if not +obliterated were, as the authors intended, in a measure broken down. +This compromise, as it was called, was a sacrifice of honest principles, +and instead of allaying disputes, was followed by a terrific storm of +contention and violence transcending thing the country had ever +experienced, and ended in a civil war. + +The time has not yet arrived for a calm and dispassionate review of the +acts and actors of that period and the events of the immediately +succeeding years; but the incidents that took place and the experience +so dearly purchased should not be perverted, misunderstood, or wholly +forgotten. + +The compromises of 1850, instead of adjusting differences and making the +people of one mind on political questions, actually caused in their +practical results the alienation of life-long party friends, led to new +associations among old opponents, and created organizations that partook +more of a sectional character than of honest constitutional differences +on fundamental questions relative to the powers and authority of the +Government, such as had previously divided the people. The facility with +which old political opponents came together in the compromise measures +of 1850, and abandoned principles and doctrines for which they had +battled through their whole lives, begot popular distrust. Confidence in +the sincerity of the men who so readily made sacrifices of principles +was forfeited or greatly impaired. The Whig party dwindled under it, and +as an organization shortly went out of existence. A large portion of its +members, disgusted with what they considered the insincerity if not +faithlessness of their leaders, yet unwilling to attach themselves to +the Democratic party, which had coalesced in the movement, gathered +together in a secret organization, styling themselves "Know Nothings." +Democrats in some quarters, scarcely less dissatisfied with the +compromises, joined the Know Nothing order, and in one or two annual +elections this strange combination, without avowed principles or +purpose, save that of the defeat and overthrow of politicians, who were +once their trusted favorites, was successful. In this demoralized +condition of affairs, the Democrats by the accession of Whigs in the +Southern States obtained possession of the Government and maintained +their ascendancy through the Pierce administration; and, in a contest +quite as much sectional as political, elected Buchanan in 1856. + +But these were the expiring days of the old Democratic organization, +which, under the amalgamating process of the compromise measures, became +shattered and mixed, especially in the Southern States, with former +Whigs, and was to a great extent thereafter sectionalized. The different +opposing political elements united against it and organized and +established the Republican party, which triumphed in the election of +Lincoln in 1860. The administration which followed and was inaugurated +in 1861 differed in essential particulars from either of the preceding +political organizations. Men of opposing principles--Centralists, who +like Hamilton and patriots of that class were for a strong imperial +national government, with supervising and controlling authority over the +States, on one hand, and Statists on the other, who, like Jefferson, +adhered to State individuality and favored a league or federation of +States, a national republic of limited and clearly defined powers, with +a strict observance of all the reserved right of the local +commonwealths--were brought together in the elections of 1860. It has +been represented and recorded as grave history that the Republican party +was an abolition party. Such was not the fact, although the small and +utterly powerless faction which, under the lead of William Lloyd +Garrison and others, had for years made aggressive war on slavery, was +one of the elements which united with Whigs and Democrats in the +election of Mr. Lincoln. Nor was that result a Whig triumph, though a +large portion of the Whigs in the free States, after the compromises of +1850, from natural antagonism to the Democrats, entered into the +Republican organization. While it is true that a large majority of the +Whigs of the North relinquished their old organization and became +Republicans, it is no less true that throughout the slave States, and +in many of the free States, the members of the Whig party to a +considerable extent supported Bell or Breckenridge. But Democrats +dissatisfied with the measures of the Pierce and Buchanan +administrations, in much larger numbers than is generally conceded, took +early and efficient part in the Republican organizations--some on +account of the repeal of the Missouri compromise, but a much larger +number in consequence of the efforts of the central Government at +Washington, by what was considered by them an abuse of civil trust, and +by military interference, to overpower the settlers in Kansas, denying +them the right of self-government, and an attempt arbitrarily and +surreptitiously to impose upon the inhabitants against their will a +fraudulent Constitution. It was this large contribution of free-thinking +and independent Democrats, who had the courage to throw off party +allegiance and discipline in behalf of the principles of free government +on which our republican system is founded, the right of the people to +self-government, and, consequently, the right to form and establish +their own constitution without dictation or interference from the +central government so long as they violated no provision of the organic +law, that gave tone, form, and ascendancy to the Republican party in +every free State. + +Persistent efforts have been made to establish as historical truths the +representations that the civil war had its origin in a scheme or purpose +to abolish slavery in the States where it existed, and that the election +of Abraham Lincoln was an abolition triumph--a premeditated, aggressive, +sectional war upon the South; whereas the reverse is the fact--the +Republican party in its inception was a strictly constitutional party, +that defended the rights of the people, the rights of the States, and +the rights of the Federal Government, which were assailed by a sectional +combination that was not satisfied with the Constitution as it was, but +proposed to exact new guarantees from the nation for the protection of +what they called "Southern rights"--rights unknown to the Constitution. +The misrepresentations that the Republicans were aggressive and aimed to +change the organic law have not been without their influence, +temporarily at least, in prejudicing and warping the public mind. It is +true that the slavery question was most injudiciously and unwisely +brought into the party controversies of the country; but it was done by +the slaveholders or their political representatives in Congress after +the failure of the nullifiers to obtain ascendancy in the Government on +the subject of free trade and resistance to the revenue laws. + +John C. Calhoun, a man of undoubted talents, but of unappeasable +ambition, had at an early period of his life, while Secretary of War, +and still a young man, aspired to the office of President. By his +ability and patriotic course during the war of 1812, and subsequently by +a brilliant career as a member of Mr. Monroe's Cabinet, he had acquired +fame and a certain degree of popularity which favored his pretensions, +particularly with young men and army officers. Schemes and projects of +national aggrandizement by internal improvements, protection to home +industries, large military expenditures, and measures of a centralizing +tendency which were popular in that era of no parties, gave him _éclat_ +as Secretary of War. Flattered by his attentions and by his shining +qualities, military men became his enthusiastic supporters, and received +encouragement from him in return. It was the first attempt to elect so +young a man to be Chief Magistrate, and was more personal than political +in its character. In the memorable contest for the successorship to +President Monroe, Mr. Calhoun at one time seemed to be a formidable +candidate; but his popularity being personal was evanescent, and failed +to enlist the considerate and reflecting. Even his military hopes were +soon eclipsed by General Jackson, whose bold achievements and successes +in the Indian and British wars captivated the popular mind. Jackson had +also, as a representative and Senator in Congress, Judge of the Supreme +Court of Tennessee, and Governor of Florida, great civil experience. Mr. +Calhoun was, however, in the political struggle that took place in 1824, +elected to the second office of the republic, while in the strife, +confusion, and break up of parties no one of the competing candidates +for President received a majority of the electoral votes. He and his +supporters submitted to, it may be said acquiesced in, the result then +and also in 1828, when General Jackson was elected President and Mr. +Calhoun was reëlected to the office of Vice-President. This +acquiescence, however, was reluctant; but with an expectation that he +would in 1833, at the close of General Jackson's term, be the successor +of the distinguished military chieftain. + +But the arrangements of calculating politicians often end in +disappointments. Such was the misfortune of Mr. Calhoun. His ambitious +and apparently well contrived plans had most of them an abortive and +hapless termination. Observation and experience convinced him, after +leaving Mr. Monroe's Cabinet, that the educated and reflective Statists +or State rights men of the country, and especially of the South, would +never sanction or be reconciled to the exercise of power by the Federal +Government to protect the manufacturing interests of New England, or to +construct roads and canals in the West, at the expense of the National +Treasury. These were, however, favorite measures of a class of +politicians of the period who had special interests to subserve, and who +carried with them the consolidationists, or advocates of a strong and +magnificent central government. The tariff, internal improvements, and +kindred subjects became classified and known in the party politics of +that day as the "American system"--a system of high taxes and large +expenditures by the Federal Government--without specific constitutional +authority for either. Parties were arrayed on opposite sides of this +system, which, besides the political principles involved, soon partook +of a sectional character. High and oppressive duties on importations, it +was claimed, were imposed to foster certain industries in the North to +the injury of the South. + +Henry Clay, a politician and statesman of wonderful magnetic power, was +the eloquent champion of the "American system," and enlisted in his +favor the large manufacturing interest in the North and the friends of +internal improvement in the West. These measures were made national +issues, and Mr. Clay, Speaker of the House of Representatives, +appropriated them to his personal advancement, and was their recognized +leading advocate. Mr. Calhoun could not be second to his Western rival, +but abandoned the policy of protection, internal improvements, and great +national undertakings, and allied himself to the commercial and +plantation interests, which opposed the system, expecting to identify +himself with and to receive the support of the Statists. But the strict +constructionists of Virginia, Georgia, and other States of the old +Jefferson school distrusted him and withheld their confidence and +support. + +South Carolina, erratic, brilliant, and impulsive, had never fully +harmonized with the politicians of Virginia in their political +doctrines, but had been inclined to ridicule the rigid and +non-progressive principles of her statesmen, who, always cautious, were +now slow to receive into fellowship and to commit themselves to the new +convert who sought their support. They slighted him, and rejected his +nullification remedies. Instead of following the Palmetto State in her +fanatical party schemes on the alleged issue of free trade, and +supporting her "favorite son" in his theories, they sustained General +Jackson, whose Union sentiments they approved, and who, to the disgust +of Calhoun, became a candidate for reëlection in 1832 and received the +votes of almost the whole South. + +In this crisis, when the heated partisans of South Carolina in their +zeal for free trade and State rights had made a step in advance of the +more staid and reflecting Statists, and undertook to abrogate and +nullify the laws of the Federal Government legally enacted, they found +themselves unsupported and in difficulty, and naturally turned to their +acknowledged leader for guidance. To contest the Federal Government, and +pioneer the way for his associates to resist and overthrow the +Administration, Mr. Calhoun resigned the office of Vice-President and +accepted that of Senator, where his active mind, fertile in resources, +could, and as he and they believed would extricate them. There was, +however, at the head of the Government in that day a stern, patriotic, +and uncompromising Chief Magistrate, who would listen to no mere +temporizing expedients when the stability of the Union was involved, and +who, while recognizing and maintaining the rights of the States, never +forgot the rights that belonged to the Federal Government. In his +extremity, when confronting this inflexible President, Mr. Calhoun +hastened to make friends with his old opponents, Clay, Webster, and the +protectionists, the advocates of the "American system," the authors and +champions of the very policy which had been made the pretext or +justification for nullification and resistance to Federal law and the +Federal authority. This coalition of hostile factions combined in a +scheme, or compromise, where each sacrificed principles to oppose the +administration of Jackson. It was an insincere and unrighteous coalition +which soon fell asunder. + +In the mean time, while nullification was hopelessly prostrate, and +before the coalition was complete, the prolific mind of the aspiring +Carolinian devised a new plan and a new system of tactics which it was +expected would sectionalize and unite the South. This new device was a +defence of slavery--a subject in which the entire South was +interested--against the impudent demands of the abolitionists. Not until +the nullifiers were defeated, and had failed to draw the South into +their nullification plan, was slavery agitation introduced into Congress +and made a sectional party question with aggressive demands for national +protection. The abolitionists were few in numbers, and of little account +in American politics. Some benevolent Quakers and uneasy fanatics, who +neither comprehended the structure of our Federal system nor cared for +the Constitution, had annually for forty years petitioned Congress to +give freedom to the slaves. But the statesmen of neither party listened +to these unconstitutional appeals until the defeated nullifiers +professed great apprehension in regard to them, and introduced the +subject as a disturbance, and made it a sensational sectional issue in +Congress and the elections. + +From the first agitation of the subject as a party question, slavery in +all its phases was made sectional and aggressive by the South. Beginning +with a denial of the right to petition for the abolition of slavery, and +with demands for new and more exacting national laws for the arrest and +rendition of fugitives, the new sectional party test was followed by +other measures; such as the unconditional admission of Texas, the +extension of slavery into all the free territory acquired from Mexico, +the repeal of the Missouri compromise, a denial to the people of Kansas +of the right to frame their own constitution, and other incidental and +irritating questions that were not legitimately within the scope of +Federal authority. Fierce contentions prevailed for years, sometimes +more violent than at others. + +In 1850 a budget of compromises, which has already been alluded to, +involving a surrender of principles and an enactment of laws that were +unwarranted by the Constitution, and offensive in other respects, had +been patched up by old Congressional party leaders, ostensibly to +reconcile conflicting views and interests, but which were superficial +remedies for a cancerous disease, and intended more to glorify the +authors than to promote the country's welfare. Both of the great parties +were committed by the managers to these compromises, but the effect upon +each was different. The Whigs, tired of constant defeat, hoped for a +change by the compromises that would give them recognition and power; +but instead of these they found themselves dwarfed and weakened, while +the Democrats, who yielded sound principles to conciliate their Southern +allies, were for a time numerically strengthened in that section by +accessions from the Whigs. Old party lines became broken, and in the +Presidential contest of 1852 the Democratic candidate, General Pierce, a +young and showy, but not profound man, was elected by an overwhelming +majority over the veteran General Scott, who was the candidate of the +Whigs. From this date the Whig organization dwindled and had but a +fragmentary existence. Thenceforward, until the overthrow of the +Democratic party, the Government at Washington tended to centralization. +Fidelity to party, and adherence to organization with little regard for +principle, were its political tests in the free States. Sectional +sentiments to sustain Southern aggressions, under the name of "Southern +rights," were inculcated, violent language, and acts that were scarcely +less so, prevailed through the South and found apologists and defenders +at the North. Presidents Pierce and Buchanan, literally "northern men +with southern principles," were submissive to these sectional +aggressions, acquiesced in the repeal of the Missouri compromise, the +extension and nationalizing of slavery, hitherto a State institution, +and also to the schemes to prevent the establishment of a free +constitution by the people of Kansas. The mass of voters opposed to the +policy of these administrations, and who constituted the Republican +party, were not entirely in accord on fundamental principles and views +of government, but had been brought into united action from the course +of events which followed the Mexican war, the acquisition of territory, +and the unfortunate compromises of 1850. The sectional strife, for the +alleged reason of Lincoln's election and Republican success, which +eventuated in hostilities in 1861, and the tremendous conflict that +succeeded and shook the foundation of the Government during the ensuing +four years, threatening the national existence, absorbed all minor +questions of a purely political party character, and made the Cabinet of +Mr. Lincoln, though its members entertained organic differences, a unit. +There were occasions when the antecedent opinions and convictions of the +members elicited discussion in regard to the powers, limitations, and +attributes of government; but in the midst of war disagreeing political +opinions as well as the laws themselves were silenced. Each and all felt +the necessity of harmonious and efficient action to preserve the Union. + +This was especially the case during the first two years of the war of +secession. Not only the President's constitutional advisers, but the +Republican members of Congress, embracing many captious, factious, and +theoretical controversialists, acted in harmony and concert. Murmurs +were heard among its friends, and dissatisfaction felt that the +Administration was not sufficiently energetic or arbitrary, and because +it did not immediately suppress the rebellion. A long period of peace +which the country had enjoyed rendered the malcontents incapable of +judging of the necessities of preparation for war. "On to Richmond" +became the cry of the impatient and restless before the armies mustered +into service were organized. The violent and impassioned appeals of +excited and mischievous speakers and writers created discontent and +clamor that could not always be appeased or successfully resisted. Not +content with honest if not always intelligent criticism of the +Government, some editors, papers, writers, and speakers, at an early +period and indeed throughout the war, condemned the policy pursued, +assumed to direct the management of affairs, and advanced crude and +absurd notions of the manner in which the Government should be +administered and military operations conducted. For a period after the +rout at Bull Run, which seemed a rebuke to these inconsiderate +partisans, there was a temporary lull of complaints and apparent +acquiescence by Republicans in the measures of administration. + +Military differences and army jealousies existed from the beginning, +which were aggravated and stimulated by partisan friends and opponents +of the rival officers, and by dissent from the policy pursued in the +conduct of military affairs to which many took exception. + +General Scott was the military oracle of the Administration in the first +days of the war. His ability and great experience entitled him to regard +and deference on all questions relating to military operations. No one +appreciated his qualities more than the President, unless it was General +Scott himself, who with great self-esteem was nevertheless not +unconscious that his age and infirmities had impaired his physical +energies, and in some respects unfitted him to be the active military +commander. It was his misfortune that he prided himself more if possible +on his civil and political knowledge and his administrative ability than +on his military skill and capacity. As a politician his opinions were +often chimerical, unstable, and of little moment; but his military +knowledge and experience were valuable. With headquarters at Washington, +and for thirty years consulted and trusted by successive administrations +of different parties in important emergencies, internal and external, +and at one time the selected candidate of one of the great political +parties for President, he had reason to feel that he was an important +personage in the republic; also that he was competent, and that it was a +duty for him to participate in political matters, and to advise in civil +affairs when there were threatened dangers. But while he was sagacious +to detect the premonitory symptoms of disturbance, and always ready to +obey and execute military orders, he was in political and civil matters +often weak, irresolute, and infirm of purpose. He had in the autumn of +1860 warned President Buchanan of danger to be apprehended from the +secession movement, and wisely suggested measures to preserve peace; but +he soon distrusted and abandoned his own suggestions. Without much +knowledge of Mr. Lincoln, and believing erroneously, as did many others, +that Mr. Seward was to be the controlling mind in the new +administration, he early put himself in communication with that +gentleman. The two agreed upon the policy of surrendering or yielding to +the States in secession the fortresses within their respective limits. +It has been said, and circumstances indicate that there was also an +understanding by Mr. Seward with certain secession leaders, that the +forts, particularly Sumter, if not attacked, should not be reinforced. +Of the plans of Mr. Seward and General Scott, and the understanding +which either of them had with the secessionists, President Lincoln was +not informed; but, while he had a sense of duty and a policy of his own, +he attentively and quietly listened to each and to all others entitled +to give their opinions. + +The reports of Major Anderson and the defence of Sumter being military +operations, the President, pursuant to Mr. Seward's advice, referred to +General Scott, and it was supposed by those gentlemen that the President +acquiesced in their conclusions. Nor were they alone in that +supposition, for the President, while cautiously feeling his way, +sounding the minds of others, and gathering information from every +quarter, wisely kept his own counsel and delayed announcing his +determination until the last moment. He was accused of being culpably +slow, when he was wisely deliberate. + +When his decision to reinforce Sumter was finally made known, the +Secretary of State and the General-in-Chief were surprised, embarrassed, +and greatly disappointed; for it was an utter negation and defeat of the +policy which they had prescribed. The General, like a good soldier, +quietly and submissively acquiesced; but Mr. Seward, a man of expedients +and some conceit, was unwilling and unprepared to surrender the first +place in the Administration, and virtually publish the fact by an +Executive mandate which upset his promised and preferred arrangements. +It was then that he became aware of two things: first, that neither +himself nor General Scott, nor both combined, were infallible with the +Administration; and second, that the President, with all his suavity and +genial nature, had a mind of his own, and the resolution and +self-reliance to form, and the firmness and independence to execute a +purpose. They had each overestimated the influence of the other with the +President, and underestimated his capacity, will, and self-reliance. +When the Secretary became convinced that he could not alter the +President's determination, he conformed to circumstances, immediately +changed his tactics, and after notifying the authorities at Charleston +that the garrison in Sumter was to be supplied, he took prompt but +secret measures to defeat the expedition by detaching the flagship, and +sending her, with the supplies and reinforcements that had been prepared +and intended for Sumter, to Fort Pickens. In doing this he consulted +neither the War nor Navy Departments, to which the service belonged; but +discarding both, and also the General-in-Chief, his preceding special +confidant, and with whom he had until then acted in concert, he took to +his counsel younger military officers, secretly advised with them and +withdrew them from their legitimate and assigned duties. The discourtesy +and the irregularity of the proceeding, when it became known, shocked +General Scott. His pride was touched. He felt the slight, but he was too +good an officer, too subordinate, and too well disciplined, to complain. +The secret military expedition undertaken by the Secretary of State +without the knowledge of the proper departments and of himself, was so +irregular, such evidence of improper administration, that he became +alarmed. He felt keenly the course of Mr. Seward in not consulting him, +and in substituting one of his staff as military adviser for the +Secretary of State; but he was more concerned for the Government and +country. + +A native of Virginia, and imbued with the political doctrines there +prevalent, but unflinching in patriotism and devotion to the Union and +the flag, General Scott hesitated how to act--objected to the hostile +invasion of any State by the national troops, but advised that the +rebellious section should be blockaded by sea and land. He thought that +surrounded by the army and navy the insurgents would be cut off from the +outer world, and when exhausted from non-intercourse and the entire +prostration of trade and commerce they would return to duty; the +"anaconda principle" of exhausting them he believed would be effectual +without invading the territory of States. When the mayor of Baltimore +and a committee of secessionists waited upon the President on the 20th +of April to protest against the passage of troops through that city to +the national capital, he, in deference to the local government, advised +the President to yield to the metropolitan demand, and himself drew up +an Executive order to that effect. The seizure of Harper's Ferry and +Norfolk and the threatened attack upon Washington greatly disturbed him, +but not so much as the wild cry of the ardent and impulsive which soon +followed of "on to Richmond" with an undisciplined army. + +Sensible of his inability to take the field, he acquiesced in the +selection if he did not propose after the disaster at Bull Run, that +General McClellan should be called to Washington to organize the broken +and demoralized Army of the Potomac. A thorough reorganization was +promptly and effectually accomplished by that officer. In a few days +order, precision, and discipline prevailed--the troops were massed and a +large army was encamped in and about the national capital. But it was +soon evident to the members of the Administration that there was not +perfect accord between the two Generals. The cause and extent of +disagreement were not immediately understood. + +At a Cabinet meeting which took place in September at the headquarters +of the General-in-Chief by reason of his physical infirmities, a brief +discussion occurred which developed coolness if not dissatisfaction. An +inquiry was made by the President as to the exact number of troops then +in and about Washington. General McClellan did not immediately +respond--said he had brought no reports or papers with him. General +Scott said he had not himself recently received any reports. Secretary +Seward took from his pocket some memoranda, stating the number that had +been mustered in a few days previous, and then went on to mention +additional regiments which had arrived several successive days since, +making an aggregate, I think, of about ninety-three thousand men. The +General immediately became grave. + +When the subject matter for which the Cabinet and war officers had been +convened was disposed of, some of the gentlemen left, and General +McClellan was about retiring, when General Scott requested him to +remain, and he also desired the President and the rest of us to listen +to some inquiries and remarks which he wished to make. He was very +deliberate, but evidently very much aggrieved. Addressing General +McClellan, he said: + +"You are perhaps aware, General McClellan, that you were brought to +these headquarters by my advice and by my orders after consulting with +the President. I know you to be intelligent and to be possessed of some +excellent military qualities; and after our late disaster it appeared to +me that you were a proper person to organize and take active command of +this army. I brought you here for that purpose. Many things have been, +as I expected they would be, well done; but in some respects I have been +disappointed. You do not seem to be aware of your true position; and it +was for this reason I desired that the President and these gentlemen +should hear what I have to say. You are here upon my staff to obey my +orders, and should daily report to me. This you have failed to do, and +you appear to labor under the mistake of supposing that you and not I +are General-in-Chief and in command of the armies. I more than you am +responsible for military operations; but since you came here I have been +in no condition to give directions or to advise the President because my +chief of staff has neglected to make reports to me. I cannot answer +simple inquiries which the President or any member of the Cabinet makes +as to the number of troops here; they must go to the State department +and not come to military headquarters for that information." + +Mr. Seward here interposed to say that the statement he had made was +from facts which he had himself collected from day to day as the troops +arrived. "Do I understand," asked General Scott, "that the regiments +report as they come here to the Honorable Secretary of State?" + +"No, no," said Mr. Cameron, who wished to arrest or soften a painful +interview. "General McClellan is not to blame; it is Seward's work. He +is constantly meddling with what is none of his business, and (alluding +to the Pickens expedition) makes mischief in the war and navy +departments by his interference." + +There was in the manner more than in the words a playful sarcasm which +Seward felt and the President evidently enjoyed. General McClellan stood +by the open door with one hand raised and holding it, a good deal +embarrassed. He said he had intended no discourtesy to General Scott, +but he had been so incessantly occupied in organizing and placing the +army, receiving and mustering in the recruits as they arrived, and +attending to what was absolutely indispensable, that it might seem he +omitted some matters of duty, but he should extremely regret if it was +supposed he had been guilty of any disrespect. + +"You are too intelligent and too good a disciplinarian not to know your +duties and the proprieties of military intercourse," said General Scott; +"but seem to have misapprehended your right position. I, you must +understand, am General-in-Chief. You are my chief of staff. When I +brought you here you had my confidence and friendship. I do not say that +you have yet entirely lost my confidence. Good day, General McClellan." + +A few weeks later General Scott was on his own application placed upon +the retired list, and General McClellan became his successor. +Disaffection on the part of any of the officers, if any existed, did not +immediately show itself; the army and people witnessed with pride the +prompt and wonderful reorganization that had taken place, and for a time +exulted in the promised efficiency and capabilities of the "young +Napoleon." But the autumn passed away in grand reviews and showy +parades, where the young General appeared with a numerous staff composed +of wealthy young gentlemen, inexperienced, untrained, and unacquainted +with military duty, who as well as foreign princes had volunteered their +services. Parades and reviews were not useless, and the committal of +wealthy and influential citizens who were placed upon his staff had its +advantages; but as time wore on and no blow was struck or any decisive +movement attempted, complaints became numerous and envy and jealousy +found opportunity to be heard. + +The expectation that the rebellion would be suppressed in ninety days, +and that an undisciplined force of seventy-five thousand men or even +five times that number would march to Richmond, clear the banks of the +Mississippi, capture New Orleans, and overwhelm the whole South, had +given way to more reasonable and rational views before Congress convened +at the regular session in December. Still the slow progress that was +made by the Union armies, and the immense war expenditures, to which our +country was then unaccustomed, caused uneasiness with the people, and +furnished food and excitement for the factions in Congress. + +The anti-slavery feeling was increasing, but efforts to effect +emancipation were not controlling sentiments of the Administration or of +a majority of Congress at the commencement or during the first year of +Mr. Lincoln's term, although such are the representations of party +writers, and to some extent of the historians of the period. Nor did the +Administration, as is often asserted and by many believed, commence +hostilities and make aggressive war on the slave States or their +institutions; but when war began and a national garrison in a national +fortress was attacked, it did not fail to put forth its power and +energies to suppress the rebellion and maintain the integrity of the +Union. Military delays and tardy movements were nevertheless charged to +the imbecility of the Government. It is not to be denied that a portion +of the most active supporters of the President in and out of Congress +and in the armies had in view ulterior purposes than that of suppressing +the insurrection. Some were determined to avail themselves of the +opportunity to abolish slavery, others to extinguish the claim of +reserved sovereignty to the States, and a portion were favorable to +both of these extremes and to the consolidation of power in the central +Government; but a larger number than either and perhaps more than all +combined were for maintaining the Constitution and Union unimpaired. + +The President, while opposed to all innovating schemes, had the happy +faculty of so far harmonizing and reconciling his differing friends as +to keep them united in resisting the secession movement. + +Abraham Lincoln was in many respects a remarkable man, never while +living fully understood or appreciated. An uncultured child of the +frontiers, with no educational advantages, isolated in youth in his +wilderness home, with few associates and without family traditions, he +knew not his own lineage and connections. Nor was this singular in the +then condition of unsettled frontier life. His grandfather, with Daniel +Boone, left the settled part of Virginia, crossed the Alleghany +mountains, penetrated the "dark and bloody ground," and took up his +residence in the wilds of Kentucky near the close of the Revolutionary +war. There was little intercourse with each other in the new and +scattered settlements destitute of roads and with no mail facilities for +communication with relatives, friends, and the civilized world east of +the mountains. Abraham Lincoln, the grandfather of the President, was a +nephew of Daniel Boone, and partook of the spirit of his brave and +subsequently famous relative. But his residence in his secluded home was +brief. He was killed by the Indians when his son Thomas, the father of +President Lincoln, was only six years old. Four years later the +fatherless boy lost his mother. Left an orphan, this neglected child, +without kith or kindred for whom he cared or who cared for him, led a +careless, thriftless life, became a wandering pioneer, emigrated from +Kentucky when the President was but seven years old, took up his +residence for several years in the remote solitudes of Indiana, and +drifted at a later day to Illinois. This vagrant life, by a shiftless +father, and without a mother or female relative to keep alive and +impress upon him the pedigree and traditions of his family, left the +President without definite knowledge of his origin and that of his +fathers. The deprivation he keenly felt. I heard him say on more than +one occasion that when he laid down his official life he would endeavor +to trace out his genealogy and family history. He had a vague impression +that his family had emigrated from England to Pennsylvania and thence to +Virginia; but, as he remarked in my presence to Mr. Ashmun of +Massachusetts, and afterward to Governor Andrew, there was not, he +thought, any immediate connection with the families of the same name in +Massachusetts, though there was reason to suppose they had a common +ancestry. + +Having entered upon this subject, and already said more than was +anticipated at the commencment, the opportunity is fitting to introduce +extracts from a statement made by himself and to accompany it with other +facts which have come into my possession since his death--facts of which +he had no knowledge. + +In a brief autobiographical sketch of his life, written by himself, he +says: + + I was born February 12, 1809, in Hardin county, Kentucky. My + parents were both born in Virginia, of undistinguished + families--second families perhaps I should say. My mother, who died + in my tenth year, was of a family of the name of Hanks, some of + whom now reside in Adams and others in Macon county, Illinois. My + paternal grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, emigrated from Rockingham + county, Virginia, to Kentucky, about 1781 or 2, where, a year or + two later, he was killed by Indians, not in battle, but by stealth, + when he was laboring to open a farm in the forest. His ancestors, + who were Quakers, went to Virginia from Berks county, Pennsylvania. + An effort to identify them with the New England family of the same + name ended in nothing more definite than a similarity of Christian + names in both families, such as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai, Solomon, + Abraham, and the like. + + My father, at the death of his father, was but six years of age; + and he grew up literally without education. He removed from + Kentucky to what is now Spencer county, Indiana, in my eighth year. + We reached our new home about the time the State came into the + Union. It was a wild region, with many bears and other wild animals + still in the woods. There I grew up. There were some schools, so + called; but no qualification was ever required of a teacher, beyond + reading, writing, and ciphering to the rule of three. If a + straggler, supposed to understand Latin, happened to sojourn in the + neighborhood, he was looked upon as a wizard. There was absolutely + nothing to excite ambition for education. Of course when I came of + age I did not know much. Still, somehow, I could read, write, and + cipher, to the rule of three; but that was all. I have not been to + school since. The little advance I now have upon this store of + education I have picked up from time to time under the pressure of + necessity. + + I was raised to farm work, which I continued till I was twenty-two. + At twenty-one I came to Illinois, and passed the first year in + Macon county. Then I got to New Salem, at that time in Sangamon, + now in Menard county, where I remained a year as a sort of clerk in + a store. + +In addition to the foregoing I may add that among my acquaintance in +central Pennsylvania were several sisters whose maiden name was Winters. +Two of these sisters were wives of Judges of the Supreme Court of +Pennsylvania. Another sister was the wife of William Potter, a member of +Congress of some note from that State and son of General Potter of the +Revolution. These sisters were the great aunts of President Lincoln, and +I subjoin an obituary notice of the younger sister, Mrs. Potter, who +died in 1875, at the advanced age of eighty-four. There are some +incidents not immediately connected with the subject that might be +omitted, but I think it best to present the obituary in full: + + Died, in Bellefonte, at the residence of Edward C. Humes, on Sunday + morning, the 30th of May A. D. 1875, Mrs. Lucy Potter, relict of + Hon. William W. Potter, deceased, aged eighty-four years, nine + months, and two days. + + Mrs. Potter was a member of a large and rather remarkable family; + her father having been born in 1728, married in 1747, died in 1794; + children to the number of nineteen being born to him, the eldest in + 1748, the youngest in 1790--their birth extending over a period of + forty-two years. William Winters, the father of the deceased, came + from Berks county to Northumberland, now Lycoming county, in the + year 1778, having purchased the farm lately known as the Judge + Grier farm, near what was called Newberry, but now within the + corporate limits of the city of Williamsport. Mr. Winters was twice + married. His first wife was Ann Boone, a sister of Colonel Daniel + Boone, famous in the early annals of Kentucky. His marriage took + place in the year 1747 in the then province of Virginia. By this + union there were issue eleven children, four males and seven + females. His eldest daughter, Hannah, married in Rockingham county, + Virginia, Abraham Lincoln, the grandfather of President Lincoln. + Shortly before his death, Lincoln, who was killed by the Indians, + visited his father-in-law at what is now Williamsport, and John + Winters, his brother-in-law, returned with him to Kentucky, whither + Mr. Lincoln had removed after his marriage; John being deputed to + look after some lands taken by Colonel Daniel Boone and his father. + + They travelled on foot from the farm, by a route leading by where + Bellefonte now is, the Indian path "leading from Bald Eagle to + Frankstown." + + John Winters visited his sister, Mrs. Potter, in 1843, and + wandering to the hill upon which the Academy is situated, a + messenger was sent for him, his friends thinking he had lost + himself; but he was only looking for the path he and Lincoln had + trod sixty years before, and pointed out with his finger the course + from Spring creek, along Buffalo run, to where it crosses the "Long + Limestone Valley," as the route they had travelled. + + Upon the death of Mr. Winters's first wife, in 1771, he again, in + 1774, married. His second wife was Ellen Campbell, who bore him + eight children, three males and five females, of which latter the + subject of this notice was the youngest. + + The father of Mrs. Potter died in 1794, and in 1795 Mrs. Ellen + Winters, his widow, was licensed by the courts of Lycoming county + to keep a "house of entertainment" where Williamsport now is--where + she lived and reared her own children as well as several of her + step children. + + Here all her daughters married, Mary becoming the wife of Charles + Huston, who for a number of years adorned the bench of the Supreme + Court of this State; Ellen, the wife of Thomas Burnside, who was a + member of Congress, Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, and finally + a Justice of the Supreme Court; Sarah, the wife of Benjamin Harris, + whose daughter, Miss Ellen Harris, resides on Spring street in this + borough; Elizabeth, the wife of Thomas Alexander, a carpenter and + builder, who erected one of the first dwellings in Williamsport, at + the corner of what are now Pine and Third streets in that city, and + many of whose descendants are still living in Lycoming county; + Lucy, the wife of William W. Potter, a leading politician in this + county, who died on the 15th day of October, 1888, while a member + of our national Congress. + + Mrs. Potter continued with her mother's family in Lycoming county, + frequently visiting her two sisters, Mrs. Huston and Mrs. Burnside, + who resided in Bellefonte, where, in 1815, she was united in + marriage, by Rev. James Linn, with William W. Potter, a young and + rising lawyer, and son of General James Potter, one of the early + settlers of the county. Here, with her husband until his death, and + then, upon the marriage of her niece, Miss Lucy Alexander, with Mr. + Edward C. Humes, she made her home, living continuously in this + town since her marriage, and having survived her husband for the + long period of thirty-seven years, being that length of time a + widow. + +The biographers of President Lincoln have none of them given these facts +because they did not know them, nor was the President himself aware of +them. Of their authenticity so far as the relationship of Mr. Lincoln +with the family of Winters is concerned, I have no doubt. His ancestry +in this country, paternal and maternal--Lincoln, Boone, and Winters--is +to be traced to the county of Berks, Pennsylvania. + +A roving child of the forest, where there were not even village schools, +Abraham Lincoln had little early culture, but his vigorous native +intellect sought information wherever it could be obtained with limited +means and opportunities, and overcame almost insuperable obstacles. His +quick perception and powers of observation and reflection, and his +retentive memory were remarkable; his judgment was good, his mental +grasp and comprehension equal to any emergency, his intentions were +always honest, and his skill and tact, with a determination to always +maintain the right, begot confidence and made him successful and great. +Party opponents imputed his success under difficulties that seemed +insurmountable to craft and cunning; but while not deficient in +shrewdness, his success was the result not of deceptive measures or wily +intrigue, but of wisdom and fidelity with an intuitive sagacity that +seldom erred as to measures to be adopted, or the course to be pursued. +It may be said of him, that he possessed inherently a master mind, and +was innately a leader of men. He listened, as I have often remarked, +patiently to the advice and opinions of others, though he might differ +from them; treated unintentional errors with lenity, was forbearing, and +kind to mistaken subordinates, but ever true to his own convictions. He +gathered information and knowledge whenever and wherever he had +opportunity, but quietly put aside assumption and intrusive attempt to +unduly influence and control him. + +Like all his Cabinet, with the exception of Mr. Blair, who had been +educated at West Point, he was without military pretension when he +entered upon his executive duties and encountered at the very threshold +a civil war which had been long maturing, was deeply seated, and in its +progress was almost unprecedented in magnitude. Neither he nor any of +his advisers had personal, official, practical experience in +administering the civil service of the Federal Government. The +commencement of hostilities, before they had time to become familiar +with their duties, imposed upon each and all labors and cares beyond +those of any of their predecessors. To these were added the conduct of +military operations as novel as they were responsible. Unprepared as the +country was for the sudden and formidable insurrection, the +Administration was not less so, yet it was compelled at once to meet it, +make preparations, call out immense armies, and select officers to +organize and command them. + +These commanders were most of them educated military officers, but +possessed of limited experience. Their lives had been passed on a peace +establishment, and they were consequently without practical knowledge. +Many of these, as well as such officers as were selected from civil +life, seemed bewildered by their sudden preferment, and appeared to +labor under the impression that they were clothed not only with military +but civil authority. Some in the higher grades imagined that in addition +to leading armies and fighting battles, they had plenary power to +administer the Government and prescribe the policy to be pursued in +their respective departments. Much difficulty and no small embarrassment +was caused by their mistaken assumptions and acts, in the early part of +the war. + +J. C. Fremont, the western explorer, a political candidate for the +Presidency in 1856, and made a major general by President Lincoln at the +beginning of the rebellion in 1861, was assigned to the command of the +western department. He evidently considered himself clothed with +proconsular powers; that he was a representative of the Government in a +civil capacity as well as military commander, and soon after +establishing his headquarters at St. Louis assumed authority over the +slavery question which the President could neither recognize nor permit. +General Hunter, at Port Royal, and General Phelps, in the Gulf, each +laboring under the same error, took upon themselves to issue +extraordinary manifestoes that conflicted with the Constitution and +laws, on the subject of slavery, which the President was compelled to +disavow. The subject, if to be acted upon, was administrative and +belonged to the Government and civil authorities--not to military +commanders. But there was a feeling in Congress and the country which +sympathized with the radical generals in these anti-slavery decrees, +rather than with the law, and the Executive in maintaining it. The +Secretary of War, under whom these generals acted, not inattentive to +current opinion, also took an extraordinary position, and in his annual +report enunciated a policy in regard to the slavery question, without +the assent of the President and without even consulting him. Mr. Lincoln +promptly directed the assuming portion of the report, which had already +been printed, to be cancelled; but the proceeding embarrassed the +Administration and contributed to the retirement of Mr. Cameron from the +Cabinet. These differences in the army, in the Administration, and among +the Republicans in Congress, extended to the people. A radical faction +opposed to the legal, cautious, and considerate policy of the President +began to crystallize and assume shape and form, which, while it did not +openly oppose the President, sowed the seeds of discontent against his +policy and the general management of public affairs. + +The military operations of the period are not here detailed or alluded +to, except incidentally when narrating the action of the Administration +in directing army movements and shaping the policy of the Government. +Nearly one-third of the States were, during the Presidency of Mr. +Lincoln, unrepresented in the national councils, and in open rebellion. +A belt of border States, extending from the Delaware to the Rocky +mountains, which, though represented in Congress, had a divided +population, was distrustful of the President. Yielding the +Administration a qualified support, and opposed to the Government in +almost all its measures, was an old organized and disciplined party in +all the free States, which seemed to consider its obligations to party +paramount to duty to the country. This last, if it did not boldly +participate with the rebels, was an auxiliary, and as a party, hostile +to the Administration, and opposed to nearly every measure for +suppressing the insurrection. + +There were among the friends of the Administration, and especially +during its last two years, radical differences, which in the first +stages of the war were undeveloped. The mild and persuasive temper of +the President, his generous and tolerant disposition, and his kind and +moderate forbearance toward the rebels, whom he invited and would +persuade to return to their allegiance and their duty, did not +correspond with the schemes and designs of the extreme and violent +leaders of the Republican party. They had other objects than +reconstruction to attain, were implacable and revengeful, and some with +ulterior radical views thought the opportunity favorable to effect a +change of administration. + +These had for years fomented division, encouraged strife, and were as +ultra and as unreasonable in their demands and exactions as the +secessionists. Some had welcomed war with grim satisfaction, and were +for prosecuting it unrelentingly with fire and sword to the annihilation +of the rights, and the absolute subversion of the Southern States and +subjection of the Southern people. There was in their ranks unreasoning +fanaticism, and ferocity that partook of barbarism, with a mixture of +political intrigue fatal to our Federal system. These men, dissatisfied +with President Lincoln, accused him of temporizing, of imbecility, and +of sympathy with the rebels because he would not confiscate their whole +property, and hang or punish them as pirates or traitors. These radical +Republicans, as they were proud to call themselves, occupied, like all +extreme men in high party and revolutionary times, the front rank of +their party, and, though really a minority, gave tone and character to +the Republican organization. Fired with avenging zeal, and often +successful in their extreme views, though to some extent checked and +modified by the President, they were presuming, and flattered themselves +they could, if unsuccessful with Mr. Lincoln, effect a change in the +administration of the Government in 1864 by electing a President who +would conform to their ultra demands. Secret meetings and whispered +consultations were held for that purpose, and for a time aspiring and +calculating politicians gave them encouragement; but it soon became +evident that the conservative sentiment of the Republicans and the +country was with Mr. Lincoln, and that the confidence of the people in +his patriotism and integrity was such as could not be shaken. +Nevertheless, a small band of the radicals held out and would not assent +to his benignant policy. These malcontents undertook to create a +distinct political organization which, if possessed of power, would make +a more fierce and unrelenting war on the rebels, break down their local +institutions, overturn their State governments, subjugate the whites, +elevate the blacks, and give not only freedom to the slaves, but by +national decree override the States, and give suffrage to the whole +colored race. These extreme and rancorous notions found no favor with +Mr. Lincoln, who, though nominally a Whig in the past, had respect for +the Constitution, loved the Federal Union, and had a sacred regard for +the rights of the States, which the Whigs as a party did not entertain. +War two years after secession commenced brought emancipation, but +emancipation did not dissolve the Union, consolidate the Government, or +clothe it with absolute power; nor did it impair the authority and +rights which the States had reserved. Emancipation was a necessary, not +a revolutionary measure, forced upon the Administration by the +secessionists themselves, who insisted that slavery which was local and +sectional should be made national. + +The war was, in fact, defensive on the part of the Government against a +sectional insurrection which had seized the fortresses and public +property of the nation; a war for the maintenance of the Union, not for +its dissolution; a war for the preservation of individual, State, and +Federal rights; good administration would permit neither to be +sacrificed nor one to encroach on the other. The necessary exercise of +extraordinary war powers to suppress the Rebellion had given +encouragement and strength to the centralists who advocated the +consolidation and concentration of authority in the general Government +in peace as well as war, and national supervision over the States and +people. Neither the radical enthusiasts nor the designing centralists +admitted or subscribed to the doctrine that political power emanated +from the people; but it was the theory of both that the authority +exercised by the States was by grant derived from the parental or +general Government. It was their theory that the Government created the +States, not that the States and people created the Government. Some of +them had acquiesced in certain principles which were embodied in the +fundamental law called the Constitution; but the Constitution was in +their view the child of necessity, a mere crude attempt of the theorists +of 1776, who made successful resistance against British authority, to +limit the power of the new central Government which was substituted for +that of the crown. For a period after the Revolution it was admitted +that feeble limitations on central authority had been observed, though +it was maintained that those limitations had been obstructions to our +advancing prosperity, the cause of continual controversy, and had +gradually from time to time been dispensed with, broken down, or made to +yield to our growing necessities. The civil war had made innovations--a +sweep, in fact, of many constitutional barriers--and radical +consolidationists like Thaddeus Stevens and Henry Winter Davis felt that +the opportunity to fortify central authority and establish its supremacy +should be improved. + +These were the ideas and principles of leading consolidationists and +radicals in Congress who were politicians of ability, had studied the +science of government, and were from conviction opponents of reserved +rights and State sovereignty and of a mere confederation or Federal +Union, based on the political equality and reserved sovereignty of the +States, but insisted that the central Government should penetrate +further and act directly on the people. Few of these had given much +study or thought to fundamental principles, the character and structure +of our Federal system, or the Constitution itself. Most of them, under +the pressure of schemers and enthusiasts, were willing to assume and +ready to exercise any power deemed expedient, regardless of the organic +law. Almost unrestrained legislation to carry on the war induced a +spirit of indifference to constitutional restraint, and brought about an +assumption by some, a belief by others, that Congress was omnipotent; +that it was the embodiment of the national will, and that the other +departments of the Government as well as the States were subordinate and +subject to central Congressional control. Absolute power, the +centralists assumed and their fanatical associates seemed to suppose, +was vested in the legislative body of the country, and its decrees, +arbitrary and despotic, often originating in and carried first by a +small vote in party caucus, were in all cases claimed to be decisive, +and to be obeyed by the Executive, the judiciary, and the people, +regardless of the Constitution. Parliamentary discussions were not +permitted, or of little avail. The acts of caucus were despotic, +mandatory, and decisive. The several propositions and plans of President +Lincoln to reëstablish the Union, and induce the seceding States to +resume their places and be represented in Congress, were received with +disfavor by the radical leaders, who, without open assault, set in +motion an undercurrent against nearly every Executive proposition as the +weak and impotent offspring of a well meaning and well intentioned, but +not very competent and intelligent mind. It was the difference between +President Lincoln and the radical leaders in Congress on the question of +reconciliation, the restoration of the States, and the reëstablishment +of the Union on the original constitutional basis, which more than even +his genial and tolerant feelings toward the rebels led to political +intrigue among Republican members of Congress for the nomination of new +candidates, and opposition to Mr. Lincoln's reëlection in 1864. At one +period this intrigue seemed formidable, and some professed friends lent +it their countenance, if they did not actually participate in it, who +ultimately disavowed any connection with the proceeding. + +Singular ideas were entertained and began to be developed in +propositions of an extraordinary character, relative to the powers and +the construction of the Government, which were presented to Congress, +even in the first year of the war. Theoretical schemes from cultivated +intellects, as well as crude notions from less intellectual but extreme +men, found expression in resolutions and plans, many of which were +absurd and most of them impracticable and illegal. Foremost and +prominent among them were a series of studied and elaborate resolutions +prepared by Charles Sumner, and submitted to the Senate on the 11th of +February, 1862. Although presented at that early day, they were the germ +of the reconstruction policy adopted at a later period. In this plan or +project for the treatment of the insurrectionary States and the people +who resided in them, the Massachusetts Senator manifested little regard +for the fundamental law or for State or individual rights. The high +position which this Senator held in the Republican party and in Congress +and the country, his cultured mind and scholarly attainments, his ardent +if not always discreet zeal and efforts to free the slaves and endow the +whole colored race, whether capable or otherwise, with all the rights +and privileges, socially and politically, of the educated and refined +white population whom they had previously served, his readiness and +avowed intention to overthrow the local State governments and the social +system where slavery existed, to subjugate the whites and elevate the +blacks, will justify a special notice; for it was one of the first, if +not the very first of the radical schemes officially presented to change +the character of the Government and the previously existing distinctions +between the races. His theory or plan may be taken as the pioneer of the +many wild and visionary projects of the central and abolition force, +that took shape and form not only during the war, but after hostilities +ceased and the rebels were subdued. + +Mr. Sumner introduced his scheme with a preamble which declared, among +other things, that the "extensive territory" of the South had been +"usurped by pretended governments and organizations"; that "the +Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, cannot be displaced +in its rightful operation within this territory, but must ever continue +the supreme law thereof, notwithstanding the doings of any pretended +governments acting singly or in confederation in order to put an end to +its supremacy." Therefore: + + _Resolved_, 1st. That any vote of secession, or other act by which + any State may undertake to put an end to the supremacy of the + Constitution within its territory, is inoperative and void against + the Constitution, and when sustained by force it becomes a + practical _abdication_ by the State of all rights under the + Constitution, while the treason which it involves still further + works an instant _forfeiture_ of all those functions and powers + essential to the continued existence of the State as a body + politic, so that from that time forward the territory falls under + the exclusive jurisdiction of Congress as other territory, and the + State, being, according to the language of the law, _felo de se_, + ceases to exist. + + 2d. That any combination of men assuming to act in the place of + such State, attempting to ensnare or coerce the inhabitants thereof + into a confederation hostile to the Union, is rebellious, + treasonable, and destitute of all moral authority; and that such + combination is a usurpation incapable of any constitutional + existence and utterly lawless, so that everything dependent upon it + is without constitutional or legal support. + + 3d. That the termination of a State under the Constitution + necessarily causes the termination of those peculiar local + institutions which, having no origin in the Constitution, or in + those natural rights which exist Independent of the Constitution, + are upheld by the sole and exclusive authority of the State. + + ... Congress will assume complete jurisdiction of such vacated + territory where such unconstitutional and illegal things have been + attempted, and will proceed to establish therein republican forms + of government under the Constitution. + +It is not shown how a usurpation or illegal act by conspirators in any +State or States could justify or make legal a usurpation by the general +Government, as this scheme evidently was, nor by what authority Congress +could declare that the illegal, inoperative, and void acts of usurpers +who might have temporary possession of or be a majority in a State, +could constitute a practical abdication by the State itself of all +rights under the Constitution, regardless of the rights of a legal, +loyal minority, guilty of no usurpation or attempted secession--the +innocent victims of a conspiracy; nor where Congress or the Federal +Government obtained authority to pronounce "an instant _forfeiture_ of +all those functions and powers essential to the continued existence of a +State as a body politic, so that from that time forward the territory +falls under the exclusive jurisdiction of Congress as other territory, +and the State, being, according to the language of the law, _felo de +se_, ceases to exist." + +The administration of Mr. Buchanan had laid down as a rule of +government that a State could not be coerced. The whole country not in +rebellion had declared there should be no secession, division, or +destruction of the Federal Union, but here was the most conspicuous +leader of the Republican party in the Senate proposing a scheme to +punish a State, to annihilate and destroy its government, to +territorialize it, to exclude or expel it from the Union, to make no +discrimination in its exclusions and denunciations between the loyal and +disloyal inhabitants, but to punish alike, without trial or conviction, +the just and the unjust. There were, though he was unwilling to admit +it, and was perhaps unaware of it, vindictive feelings, venom, and +revenge in his resolutions and in his whole treatment of the States and +the white people of the South. From the time that he had been stricken +down by the bludgeon of Brooks in the Senate, Mr. Sumner waged +unrelenting war on the whites in the Southern States, and seemed to +suppose it was his special mission--he certainly made it the great +object of his life--to elevate the negro race--to give them at least +equal rights and privileges with the educated and refined class--and did +not conceal his intention and expectation to bring them in as +auxiliaries to the Republican party, and thereby give it permanent +ascendancy. All this was done in the name of humanity, and with apparent +self-convinced sincerity. He was unwilling to acknowledge that he was +governed or influenced by personal resentments in his revolutionary +plans to degrade the intelligent white and exalt the ignorant black +population by tearing down the constitutional edifice. In frequent +interviews which I held with him then and at later periods, when he +found it impossible to hold his positions under the Constitution, he +claimed that he occupied higher ground, and that his authority for these +violent measures was the Declaration of Independence, which declared all +men were born equal, etc. Mr. Sumner was an idealist--neither a +constitutionalist nor a practical statesman. He could pull down, but he +could not construct--could declare what he considered humane, right, and +proper, and act upon it regardless of constitutional compromises or +conventional regulations which were the framework of the Government. No +man connected with the Administration, or in either branch of Congress, +was more thoroughly acquainted with our treaties, so familiar with the +traditions of the Government, or better informed on international law +than Charles Sumner; but on almost all other Governmental questions he +was impulsive and unreliable, and when his feelings were enlisted, +imperious, dogmatical, and often unjust. + +Why innocent persons who were loyal to the Government and the Union +should be disfranchised and proscribed because their neighbors and +fellow citizens had engaged in a conspiracy, he could not explain or +defend. By what authority whole communities and States should be +deprived of the local governments which their fathers had framed, under +which they were born, and with the provisions and traditions of which +they were familiar, was never told. + +His propositions found no favor with the Administration, nor were they +supported at the beginning by any considerable number even of the +extremists in Congress. It required much training by the centralizing +leaders for years and all the tyranny of caucus machinery after the +death of Mr. Lincoln to carry them into effect by a series of +reconstruction measures that were revolutionary in their character, and +which to a certain extent unsettled the principles on which the +Government was founded. + +But the counsel and example of the distinguished Senator from +Massachusetts were not without their influence. Resolutions by radical +Republicans and counter resolutions, chiefly by Democrats, relative to +the powers and limitations of the Federal Government and the status of +States, followed in quick succession. On the 11th of June, the subject +having been agitated and discussed for four months, Mr. Dixon, a +Republican Senator from Connecticut, whose views coincided in the main +with those of Mr. Lincoln and the Administration, submitted, after +consultation and advisement, the following: + + _Resolved_, That all acts or ordinances of secession, alleged to + have been adopted by any legislature or convention of the people of + any State, are as to the Federal Union absolutely null and void; + and that while such acts may and do subject the individual actors + therein to forfeitures and penalties, they do not, in any degree, + affect the relations of the State wherein they purport to have been + adopted to the Government of the United States, but are as to such + Government acts of rebellion, insurrection, and hostility on the + part of the individuals engaged therein, or giving assent thereto; + and that such States are, notwithstanding such acts or ordinances, + members of the Federal Union, and as such are subject to all the + obligations and duties imposed upon them by the Constitution of the + United States; and the loyal citizens of such States are entitled + to all the rights and privileges thereby guaranteed or conferred. + +The resolution of Dixon traversed the policy of Sumner and was the +Executive view of the questions that were agitated in Congress as to the +effect of the rebellion and the condition of the States in insurrection. +The Administration did not admit that rebellion dissolved the Union or +destroyed its federative character; nor did it adopt or assent to the +novel theory that the States and the whole people residing in them had +forfeited all sovereignty and all reserved State and individual rights, +because a portion of the inhabitants had rebelled; nor did it admit that +the usurpation of a portion of any community could bring condemnation +and punishment on all. The usurpations and acts of the rebels were +considered not legal acts, but nullities. + + GIDEON WELLES. + + + + +LUCILLE'S LETTER. + + + Out of the dreary distance and the dark + I stretch forth praying palms--yet not to pray; + Hands fold themselves for heaven, while mine, alas! + Are sundered--held your way. + + Brief moments have been ours, yet bright as brief; + Oh! how I live them over, one by one, + Now that the endless days, bereft of you, + Creep slowly, sadly on. + + Garnered in memory, those bewildering hours, + A golden harvest of enchantment yield; + Here, like a pale, reluctant Ruth, I glean + A cold and barren field-- + + Barren without a shelter: and the hedge + Is made of thorns and brambles. If I fain + Would lean beyond the barrier, do you see + The wounding and the stain? + + Did God make us to mock us, on the earth? + Why did he fuse our spirits by His word, + Then set His awful Angel in our path, + His Angel with the sword? + + Why, when I contrite kneel confessing all, + And seek with tears the way to be forgiven-- + Why do your pleading eyes look sadly down + Between my face and heaven? + + Why does my blood thrill at your fancied touch-- + Stop and leap up at your ideal caress? + Ah, God! to feel that dear warm mouth on mine + In lingering tenderness! + + To lie at perfect peace upon your heart, + Your arms close folded round me firm and fast, + My cheek to yours--oh, vision dear as vain! + That would be home at last. + + Leon, you are my curse, my blessing too, + My hell, my heaven, my storm that wrecks to save: + Life daunts me, and the shadows lengthen out + Beyond the grave. + + MARY L. RITTER. + + + + +SOME OLD ALMANACKS. + + +Do you know, gentle reader, what an interesting, valuable, and useful +book an "Almanack" once was? You are gorged with books, and newspapers +lie about thick as leaves in Vallambrosa. Do you ever buy an Almanac for +five cents? I trow not. Therefore you do not know how much careful +calculation, skill, and knowledge are to be had for that small piece of +money. + +Therefore you cannot sit down in the evening and pore over its mystic +signs. Indeed, I fear you do not know what a zodiac is, or what the +meaning of "Cancer the Crab" and "Gemini the Twins" may be. It is more +than likely you will reply, "Oh, yes; if the Crab had a Cancer, he would +cry Gemini to the Twins"--and in that light and flippant way you will +try to hide your brutal ignorance, if a male, your shallow +understanding, if a female. + +Now I have just had a sort of musty satisfaction in looking over some +old Almanacs, which dated as far back as 1727. They seem to have been +the property of somebody whose letters were W. S. His almanacs were so +prized that he had interleaved them, and then he recorded his profound +observations. He thus had learned, what I fear you have not, that the +moon had many mysterious influences besides making the tides rise and +fall, if it does. It seems, if we can believe "A Native of New England," +who made B. Greene's Almanack for 1731, that the "Moon has dominion over +man's body," and that when she gets into "Cancer the Crab" you must +expect every sort of bedevilment in your breast and stomach. When she +gets into "Gemini," the same in your arms and shoulders. When she is in +"Scorpio" your bowels and belly are in danger, and so on all through +your body; so that we might well enough wish the moon were wholly +abolished; for the little wishy-washy light she gives to lovers and +thieves is not at all a balance for such fearful threatenings. + +Who was the "Native of New England" is a secret, and well it is, for in +1727 he graced his title-page with this poem: + + ----Man--that Noble Creature, + Scanted of time, and stinted by Weak Nature, + That in foretimes saw jubilees of years, + As by our Ancient History appears; + Nay, which is more, even Silly Women then, + Liv'd longer time than our grave Graybeard Men. + +"Graced," did I say? May we not put a _dis_ before it? "Silly Women!" +"Noble Creature!" Did the Native mean that woman then was silly and man +then noble? Well for him is it that our "Mrs. Ward Howes" and "Mrs. +Lillie Blakes" cannot make rhymes upon _his_ name; well for him that he +went his way holding his mantle before his face. + +But he himself did not hold himself lightly. He knew all about Apogé and +Perigé (we now spell them Apogée and Perigée). But does the Radical Club +itself know anything at all about Apogée and Perigée? He knew when some +"fine moderate weather" would come, when "winds enough for several" +would blow, when "bad weather for hoop petticoats" would be; and that +was on the 29th and 30th of January, 1727. Fearful weather, we may +believe; but he, the _Native_, knew. But alas for us! On the 2d, he puts +it down as "sloppy and raw cold." Now it so chances that W. S. has kept +his MS. notes against this day, and he has it "_Very fine and +pleasant_," and the next day, "_Dry and dusty._" Lamentable indeed for +the Native! But he is not to be shaken for all that; he prognosticates +through all the year just as if all was to come exactly right. One would +like to know what W. S. thought of his prognosticator, and if he kept on +studying and believing just the same as if all had come right. _I_ do +not doubt he did. + +And now we come to some positive statements about Eclipses, and learn +what we may depend on in that quarter. + +The Native goes on to say, "As to the effects, they chiefly affect those +Men that live by their Ingenuity; I mean Painters, Poets, Mercurialists, +&c." What is a mercurialist? Does he mean the worshippers of Mercury, +thieves, and that sort? "But"--and mark the cautious tone here--"but +whether it forbodes good or ill to them I shall not now determine; only +advise them to prepare for the worst!" Pretty good advice in all times +of eclipse; and in these days even when there is no eclipse. Mark his +modesty: "I do not pretend to Infallibility in my Conjectures, yet (as I +said last year) they many times come out too True to make a jest of." +Then he goes on: "I have read of a story which _Thaurus_ is said to +relate of _Andreas Vesalius_, a great Astrologer who lived in the reign +of _Henry the VIII._; to wit, that he told _Maximilian_ the Day and Hour +of his Death, who, giving credit thereto, ordered a great feast to be +made, inviting his Friends, sat and Eat [ate?] with them; and +afterwards, having distributed his Treasures among them, took leave of +them and Dyed at the time predicted." Most kind of this Maximilian, for +it must have secured a good patronage to the astrologers. + +"Yet it does not from hence follow that a certain rule may be laid +down"--a very fine astrologer, you perceive, may fail--"whereby exactly +to discover the Divine appointments. But there are many concurring +Causes of Mundane Accidents of which Humanity must be content to remain +Ignorant, and (as a wise Author affirms) No Index can be found or formed +whereby to give us any certain Diary or Destiny saving that of our +dear-bought Experience." But how can we learn about our own dying by +experience--which is what we die to know about? He continues: "And here +I cannot but take notice of our _Negro-mancers_, who, under pretence of +knowledge in the Motions of the _Heavens_, take upon them to Fore tell +the Appointments of Fate with respect to particular Persons, and thereby +betray the Ignorant part of the World Inevitably into the Worship of the +Devil. But if the Wholesome Laws of the Province were duly executed on +such _Negro-mancers_, I could venture to Fore tell what would soon be +their Fortune; You may Read it at large in this Province, New Law Book, +_page_ 117. + + "_Marblehead_, Sept. 28, 1726. + + "N. Bowen." + +Ah, friend Bowen was too alarmingly near the Salem witch times when +Minister Parris and Judge Hawthorne had come so nigh putting the Devil +to rout by hanging an old woman or two and squeezing poor Giles Cory to +death. He knew what the Law could do to those wicked negro-mancers if +they went about predicting things in a wicked way. And what a bore it +might become to have a negro-mancer foretelling in a rash and +miscellaneous way one's death and bringing it to pass too some fine and +inconvenient day! Who would not hang a negro-mancer like that? + +But suppose they should go on and squeeze the life out of such mild +negromancers as N. Bowen, Esq., too. What then? + +In 1729 we get an Almanac made by a student _with_ a name--Nathaniel +Ames, junior, _student in Physick and Astronomy_. He does not apply his +intellect to such great speculations as Bowen grappled with, but runs +easily into poetry of the true Homeric stamp. Listen: + +_January_-- + + The Earth is white like NEPTUNE's foamy face, + When his proud Waves the hardy Rocks embrace. + +_February_-- + + Boreas's chilly breath attacks our Nature, + And turns the Presbyterian to a Quaker. + +What wicked waggery is here hidden, who can tell? One thing is sure, +that Februarys ought to be abolished by the General Court if such is +true; for a Quaker then was an abominable thing. + +_March_-- + + Phoebus and Mars conjoined do both agree, + This month shall Warm (nay, more than usual) be. + +We pray that our Almanac makers will conjoin Phoebus and Mars in all +our Marches hereafter, so that we too may "Warm (more than usual) be." +How melodious that line! + +_April_ gives a sweet strain, possibly premature-- + + The Birds, like Orphans, now all things invite + To come and have Melodious, sweet delight. + +Like Orphans! Why? Should _Orpheus_ come in there, or are orphans +children of Orpheus? We are perplexed. The words sound alike. + + _May_ like a Virgin quickly yields her Charms, + To the Embrace of Winter's Icy Arms. + +It is not easy to see how that can be. Does he mean that winter had come +back and given May a late frost? And then Virgins do not, so far as I +know, yield to the Embrace of Winter's Icy Arms. Do they? I ask persons +of experience. + +_June_ comes upon us heavily-- + + SOL's scorching Ray puts Blood in Fermentation, + And is stark raught to acts of Procreation. + +That has a terrible sound. What does he mean? + +_July_-- + + The Moon (this Month), that pale-faced Queen of Night, + Will be disrobed of all her borrowed light. + +No month for lover's madness, this. Not a lover can steal forth by the +light of the moon, or do any foolish thing this month, thanks be to God! + +_August_-- + + The Earth and Sky Resound with Thunder Loud, + And Oblique streams flash from the dusky Cloud. + +That first line demands many capital letters, and what a fine word +Oblique is in the second. + +_September_ says-- + + The burthened earth abounds with various fruit, + Which doth the Epicurean's Palate Suit. + +It is to be hoped these wicked Epicureans got no more than their share, +and that church members were not converted to the heathen philosophy by +such baits. + +_October_-- + + The Tyrant Mars old Saturn now opposes, + Which stirs up Feuds and may make bloody Noses. + +October then was the fighter's month. This begins nobly, but ends +waggishly. + +_November_-- + + Now what remains to Comfort up our lives, + But Cordial Liquor and kind, loving Wives? + +"Comfort up," that is good. But the Cordial Liquor is doubtful; and then +are there no girls in the sweet bloom of maidenhood left to Comfort up +our lives? Sad indeed! + +_December_ closes up-- + + The Chrystal streams, congealed to Icy Glass, + Become fit roads for Travellers to pass. + +Excellent for the travellers. + +But now in the column of "Mutations of Weather," we find this": + + "Christmas is nigh; + The bare name of it + to Rich or Poor + will be no profit." + +We are startled. Does he mean to speak ill of Christmas--to stab it? We +look again. No--it is that Christmas without roast Turkeys and Mince +pies will be very bad. The "bare _name_"--that is what he will none of. +But on the contrary the real thing he will have, with Roasts and bakes, +and--possibly--Cordial Liquor to "Comfort up" the day. What a good word +that "Comfort up" is. We thank Nathaniel for it. + +Now in the volume for 1730 are other interesting items, and the seer and +poet seems to be our old friend, Nathan Bowen. He inclines somewhat to +poetry also, for he thus sings: + + Saturn in Thirty Years his Ring Compleats, + Which Swiftest Jupiter in Twelve repeats; + Mars Three and Twenty Months revolving spends, + The Earth in Twelve her Annual Journey Ends. + Venus thy Race in twice Four Months is run, + For his Mercurius Three demands. The Moon + Her Revolution finishes in One. + If all at Once are Mov'd, and by one Spring, + Why so Unequal in their Annual Ring?" + +Here again the sensitive soul, anxiously pondering, asks, Are students +of astronomy prone to infidelity, and does this last question mean to +convey the faintest shadow of a doubt? If not, why that "Why"? + +We gladly pass on to another topic, hoping that Nathan was not damned +for skepticism. + +"N. B.--The paper Mill mentioned in last year's almanack (at Milton) has +begun to go. Any person that will bring Rags to D. Henchman & T. +Hancock, shall have from 2d. to 6d. a pound according to their +goodness." + +"Begun to go." I like that word. "Commenced operations," "started in +business": how new and poor those great three-syllabled words seem! +"Begun to go"--that is good. + +In 1731 he tells us: + + "Ready money is now + the best of Wares." + "Some gain & some loose." + +Dear, dear, how bad! Almost, not quite so miserable, as to-day--all lose +now. + +Then he informs us officially what salutes are to be fired at Castle +William, as follows: + + March 1 Queen's Berthday 21 guns. + + May 29 Restoration of K. Ch. II. 17 " + + June 11 K. George II. accession 21 " + + Oct. 11 K. G. II. coronation 33 " + + Oct. 30 K. G. II. Berthday 27 " + + Nov. 5 Powder Plot 17 " + + Jan. 19 Prince of W. Berthday 21 " + +In 1732 the Native of New England (if it be Nathan Bowen of Marblehead) +takes hold again and breaks into song: + + Indulge, and to thy Genius freely give; + For not to live at Ease is not to live. + Death stalks behind thee, and each flying Hour + Does some loose Remnant of thy Life devour. + Live while thou livest, for Death shall make us all + A Name of Nothing, but an Old Wife's Tale. + Speak: wilt thou AVORICE or PLEASURE Chuse + To be thy Lord? Take One & One Refuse.--_Perseus_. + +We begin to fear indeed that Nathan is little better than one of those +wicked Epicureans himself. _Avorice_ or _Pleasure_. Take one? Must we +indeed? Pleasure? It looks as if Nathan was a very naughty man. + +Things have evidently not gone quite smoothly with N. Bowen this last +year, for, in his "Kind Reader" of 1733, he says: "Having last year +finished Twelve of my Annual Papers [he means Almanacks], I proposed to +lay down my pen and leave the Drudgery of Calculation to those who have +more leisure and a Clearer Brain than I can pretend to. Indeed, the +Contempt with which a writer of Almanacks is looked on and the Danger he +is in of being accounted a Conjurer"--a negro-mancer--"should seem +sufficient to deter a man from publishing anything of this kind. But +when I consider that all this is the effect of Ignorance, and, +therefore, not worth my Notice or Resentment, and that the most +judicious and learned part of the World have always highly valued and +esteemed such Undertakings as what are not only great and noble in +themselves; but as they are of absolute necessity in the Business and +Affairs of Life, I am induced to appear again in the World, and hope +this will meet with the same kind acceptance with my former." + +With me he meets with the same kind acceptance, for I believe in the +Nobility of the Almanac; and it is certain that every man should believe +in the Nobility of his work whatever it is--then he is sure of _one_ +ardent Admirer. It is sad to think that some carping critic had been +riling the sweet soul of Nathan in the year 1732. It is all over now. +Let us hope he is not damned for his Epicureanism, but is reaping his +crop of praise in a better climate than Marblehead. He gives us more +poetry in 1733, and a clear account of why Leap years are necessary, +which I do not repeat here, the popular belief being that they were +invented in order that maidens might if they wished make love to swains, +which belief I would do nothing to shake. + +In the next year we have quite a learned discourse about the Julian Æra, +Epochs, Olympiads, etc., from which I can only venture to take the +following concise and valuable and accurate statement of this +astronomer: + +"JESUS CHRIST the SAVIOUR of the World was Incarnate in the 4,713 year +of the Julian Period; the 3,949 of the Creation, the 4th of the 194th +Olympiad, and the 753 Currant Year of the Roman Foundation." + +Persons having any doubts as to the time of our blessed Saviour's +appearance had better cut this out and keep it carefully for future +reference and for the confusion of "skepticks." + +Let us not leave these interesting vestiges of an earlier creation +without a few words as to W. S. He, as I have said, was the purchaser +and owner of these sacred books. His almanacs were carefully interleaved +and evidently were intended to be not only a record of the wisdom of the +"Students in Physick and Astronomy," but also of events in the lives of +devout owners. We find W. S. begins with fervor and fidelity to record +daily interesting facts such as, in February: + +"Fine, somewhat cold. + +"Very pleasant. + +"A storm of snow. + +"More snow, but clears away windy. + +"A very fine day. + +"_Idem_, but windy." + +Aha! here, then, we have a man who knew _Latin_ in the Year of our Lord +1727. "_Idem_"--that is such a good word that he uses it often, and it +has a good sound, too. Through January, February, March he attends daily +to this high duty, and tells us how it was: + +"A bright morning, but a dull day. + +"Windy. + +"Cool." + +On the 27th, "Much rain, a violent storm, snow'd up." + +In April things change. His interest flags. He does not write down his +record every day. Has W. S. grown lazy? Is it too warm for assiduous +tasks, or has a new element come into his life? Let us see. He begins +April: + +"1. A clearer day. + +"2. Set my clock forward 20 m. + +"3. Lethfield arrived from London." + +The clock--that, I believe, was the great event, and that it came from +London. What may it have been? Clearly one of those tall, stately pieces +with the moon and the sun showing their faces on the silver dial, the +fine mahogany case worthy to uphold all. Where is that clock now? Who +can tell? From this time forth this was the object of interest, for in +nearly all the months we have this record, "Set my clock." He grows +terribly indifferent to the weather. A clock then was a wonderful thing, +and it is a wonderful thing now. Think of it. How these little wheels +and springs are so contrived that they tick the seconds and the minutes +and the hours day and night, so that Father Time might himself set his +watch by some of them. But then it was a rarer and a more interesting +thing than now. We can easily fancy the neighbors gathering to see the +fine clock standing in its place in the hall, telling its monotonous +tale all the nights and days. + +But another interesting record now comes in. This, too, is an event--in +May: + +"17. I bottled cyder." + +And then in October again: + +"20. Cyder come." + +Cyder is not a thing to be despised even by a man who knows Latin. But +is not cyder an important thing to everybody? They had neither tea nor +coffee then, and man likes to drink. We may know, too, that in those +days every good woman made a few bottles of currant wine, made also her +rose cakes to sweeten her drawers, gathered and dried lavender to make +lavender-water, also sage and hoarhound, "good for sickness." Alas! that +people might be sick even in those "Good old Times," we know, and we +find that in January, 1727, W. S. puts down carefully this: + +"A Recipe for y^e cure of Sciatica pains--viz.: + +"Take 2 ounces of flowered brimstone, four ounces of Molasses. Mix y^m +together, and take a spoonfull morning and evening, and if y^t do not +effect a cure, take another spoonfull at noon also." You continue until +you get well, or--something! + +Why endure sciatica pains after this? We make no charge for this +valuable knowledge. + +But in June we find it put down: + +"Mr. Davenport Chosen Tutor And confirmed by y^e overseers." + +Here we have a clue to the Latin. + +And in August is another entry: + +"Governor Burnett, upon an invitation, came to visit y^e Coll: +besides---- y^e Civil Officers in Cambridge w^th some others, together +with y^e Masters of Art in College, were invited to dine w^th him. There +was an Oration in y^e hall by Sir Clark, some of y^e neighboring Clergie +were present, & about sixty persons in all had a handsome dinner in y^e +Library." + +Here _was_ an event to be recorded. But was W. S. present? We remain in +the dark. + +Entries now become more and more uncommon. We learn little more of the +clock or of the cyder; and we are at a loss to explain the reason why. +But lo! we have it! In November there is but one entry, on the + +"21. _I was married_." + +There is the gospel, without note or comment. To whom? We ask in vain. +"I was married," and that is all. But is not that enough? No more +records about clocks and cyder! What need of those things? Very few +entries are made in this year, and these are records of the thermometer. +Evidently a new one had come from London. But in October is a short and +significant record: + +"19. Bille was born at 5 a clock morning." + +It was inevitable--cause and effect--a striking example--most +philosophic! Had he black eyes or blue? Was he like his father or his +mother? Was he little or big? Did he weigh eight pounds or ten? Did he +live to be a man? None of these things are recorded, and we shall never +know. After this supreme event few entries appear in the diary through +the years. Life has become engrossing, important. Let us hope it was +sufficing and not full of failure and trouble; let us enjoy the pleasure +of believing so, as we well may. The clock, the cyder, the thermometer, +the little Bille: what more important matters had he or have we to +record? We part with the three, the four faint shadows, Nathaniel, +Nathan, W. S., and little Bille, with a mild regret, hoping we may meet +them, and especially "little Bille," on the other side. Till then +farewell. + + CHARLES WYLLYS ELLIOTT. + + + + +TO WALT WHITMAN. + + + O Titan soul, ascend your starry steep + On golden stair to gods and storied men! + Ascend! nor care where thy traducers creep. + For what may well be said of prophets when + A world that's wicked comes to call them good? + Ascend and sing! As kings of thought who stood + On stormy heights and held far lights to men, + Stand thou and shout above the tumbled roar, + Lest brave ships drive and break against the shore. + + What though thy sounding song be roughly set? + Parnassus' self is rough! Give thou the thought, + The golden ore, the gems that few forget; + In time the tinsel jewel will be wrought.... + Stand thou alone and fixed as destiny; + An imaged god that lifts above all hate, + Stand thou serene and satisfied with fate. + Stand thou as stands that lightning-riven tree + That lords the cloven clouds of gray Yosemite. + + Yea, lone, sad soul, thy heights must be thy home. + Thou sweetest lover! love shall climb to thee, + Like incense curling some cathedral dome + From many distant vales. Yet thou shalt be, + O grand, sweet singer, to the end alone. + But murmur not. The moon, the mighty spheres, + Spin on alone through all the soundless years; + Alone man comes on earth; he lives alone; + Alone he turns to front the dark Unknown. + + Then range thine upper world, nor stoop to wars. + Walk thou the heights as walked the old Greeks when + They talked to austere gods, nor turned to men. + Teach thou the order of the singing stars. + Behold, in mad disorder these are set, + And yet they sing in ceaseless harmonies. + They spill as jewels spilt through space. They fret + The souls of men who measure melodies + As they would measure slimy deeps of seas. + + Take comfort, O uncommon soul. Yet pray + Lest ye grow proud in such exalted worth. + Let no man reckon he excels. I say + The laws of compensation compass earth, + And no man gains without some equal loss: + Each ladder round of fame becomes a rod, + And he who lives must die upon a cross. + The stars are far, but flowers bless the sod, + And he who has the least of man has most of God. + + JOAQUIN MILLER. + + + + +MADCAP VIOLET. + +BY WILLIAM BLACK. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +JOY AND FEAR. + + +Was this man mad, that he, an invalid, propped up in his chair, and +scarcely able to move a wine-glass out of his way, should play pranks +with the whole created order of things, tossing about solar systems as +if they were no more than juggler's balls, and making universal systems +of philosophy jump through hoops as if he were a lion tamer in a den? +These poor women did not know where to catch him. Violet used to say +that he was like a prism, taking the ordinary daylight of life and +splitting it up into a thousand gay and glancing colors. That was all +very well as a spectacular exhibition; but how when he was apparently +instructing them in some serious matter? Was it fair to these tender +creatures who had so lovingly nursed him, that he should assume the airs +of a teacher, and gravely lead out his trusting disciples into the +desert places of the earth, when his only object was to get them into a +bog and then suddenly reveal himself as a will-o'-the-wisp, laughing at +them with a fiendish joy? + +What, for example, was all this nonsense about the land question--about +the impossibility of settling it in England so long as the superstitious +regard for land existed in the English mind? They were quite ready to +believe him. They deprecated that superstition most sincerely. They +could not understand why a moneyed Englishman's first impulse was to go +and buy land; they could give no reason for the delusion existing in the +bosom of every Englishman that he, if no one else, could make money out +of the occupation of a farm that had ruined a dozen men in succession. +All this was very well; but what were they to make of his sudden +turning round and defending that superstition as the most beautiful +sentiment in human nature? It was, according to him, the sublimest +manifestation of filial love--the instinct of affection for the great +mother of us all. And then the flowers became our small sisters and +brothers; and the dumb look of appeal in a horse's eye, and the singing +of a thrush at the break of day--these were but portions of the +inarticulate language now no longer known to us. What was any human +being to make of this rambling nonsense? + +It all came of the dress coat, and of his childish vanity in his white +wristbands. It was the first occasion on which he had ceremoniously +dressed for dinner; and Violet had come over; and he was as proud of his +high and stiff collar, and of his white necktie, as if they had been the +ribbon and star of a royal order. And then they were all going off the +next morning--Miss North included--to a strange little place on the +other side of the Isle of Wight; and he had gone "clean daft" with the +delight of expectation. There was nothing sacred from his mischievous +fancy. He would have made fun of a bishop. In fact he did; for, +happening to talk of inarticulate language, he described having seen +"the other day," in Buckingham Palace road, a bishop who was looking at +some china in a shop window; and he went on to declare how a young +person driving a perambulator, and too earnestly occupied with a sentry +on the other side of the road, incontinently drove that perambulator +right on to the carefully swathed toes of the bishop; and then he +devoted himself to analyzing the awful language which he _saw_ on the +afflicted man's face. + +"But, uncle," said Amy Warrener, with the delightful freshness of +fifteen, "how could you see anybody in Buckingham Palace road the other +day, when you haven't been out of the house for months?" + +"How?" said he, not a whit abashed. "How could I see him? I don't know, +but I tell you I did see him. With my eyes, of course." + +He lost his temper, however, after all. + +"To-morrow," he was saying, "I bid good-by to my doctor. I bear him no +malice; may he long be spared from having to meet in the next world the +people he sent there before him! But look here, Violet--to-morrow +evening we shall be _free_--and we shall celebrate our freedom, and our +first glimpse of a seashore, in Scotch whiskey--in hot Scotch +whiskey--in Scotch whiskey with the boilingest of boiling water, just +caught at the proper point of cooling. You don't know that point; I will +teach you; it is perfection. Don't you know that we have just caught the +cooling point of the earth--just that point in its transition from being +a molten mass to its becoming a chilled and played out stone that admits +of our living----" + +"But, uncle," said Amy, "I thought the earth used to be far colder than +it is now. Remember the glacial period," added this profound student of +physics. + +This was too much. + +"Dear, dear me!" he exclaimed. "Am I to be brought up at every second by +a pert schoolgirl when I am expounding the mysteries of life? What have +your twopenny-halfpenny science primers to do with the grand secret of +toddy? I tell you we must _catch it at the cooling point_; and then, +Violet--for you are a respectful and attentive student--if the evening +is fine, and the air warm, and the windows open and looking out to the +south--do you think the doctor could object to that one first, faint +trial of a cigarette, just to make us think we are up again in the +August nights--off Isle Ornsay--with Aleck up at the bow singing that +hideous and melancholy song of his, and the Sea Pyot slowly creeping +along by the black islands?" + +She did not answer at all; but for a brief moment her lip trembled. Amid +all this merriment she had sat with a troubled face, and with a sore and +heavy heart. She had seen in it but a pathetic bravado. He would drink +Scotch whiskey--he would once more light a cigarette--merely to assure +her that he was getting thoroughly well again; his laughter, his jokes, +his wild sallies were all meant, and she knew it, to give her strength +of heart and cheerfulness. She sat and listened, with her eyes cast +down. When she heard him talk lightly and playfully of all that he meant +to do, her heart throbbed, and she dared not lift her eyes to his face, +lest they should suddenly reveal to him that awful conflict within of +wild, and piteous, and agonizing doubt. + +Then that reference to their wanderings in the northern seas--he did not +know how she trembled as he spoke. She could never even think of that +strange time she had spent up there, and of the terrible things that had +come of it, without a shudder. If she could have cut it out of her life +and memory altogether, that would have been well; but how could she +forget the agony of that awful farewell; the sense of utter loneliness +with which she saw the shores recede; the conviction then borne in upon +her--and never wholly eradicated from her mind--that some mysterious +doom had overtaken her, from which there was no escape. The influence of +that time, and of the time that succeeded it, still dwelt upon her, and +overshadowed her with its gloom. She had almost lost the instinct of +hope. She never doubted, when they carried young Dowse into that silent +room, but that he would die: was it not her province to bring misery to +all who were associated with her? And she had got so reconciled to this +notion that she did not argue the matter with herself; she had, for +example, no sense of bitterness in contrasting this apparent "destiny" +of hers with the most deeply-rooted feeling in her heart; namely, a +perfectly honest readiness to give up her own life if only that could +secure the happiness of those she loved. She did not even feel injured +because this was impossible. Things were so; and she accepted them. + +But sometimes, in the darkness of her room, in the silence of the +night-time, when her heart seemed to be literally breaking with its +conflict of anxious love and returning despair, some wild notion of +propitiation--doubtless derived from ancient legends--would flash across +her mind; and she would cry in her agony, "If one must be taken, let it +be me! The world cares for him. What am I?" If she could only go out +into the open place of the city, and bare her bosom to the knife of the +priest, and call on the people to see how she had saved the life of her +beloved--surely that would be to die happy. What she had done, now that +she came to look back over it, seemed but too poor an expression of her +great love and admiration. What mattered it that a girl should give up +her friends and her home? Her life--her very life--that was what she +desired, when these wild fancies possessed her, to surrender freely, if +only she could know that she was rescuing him from the awful portals +that her despairing dread saw open before him, and was giving him +back--as she bade him a last farewell--to health, and joy, and the +comfort of many friends. + +With other wrestlings in spirit, far more eager and real than these mere +fancies derived from myths, it is not within the province of the present +writer to deal; they are not for the house-tops or the market-places. +But it may be said that in all directions the gloomy influences of that +past time pursued her; wherever she went she was haunted by a morbid +fear that all her resolute will could not shake off. Where, for example, +could she go for sweeter consolation, for more cheering solace than to +the simple and reassuring services of the church? But before she +entered, eager to hear words of hope and strengthening, there was the +graveyard to pass through, with the misery of generations recorded on +its melancholy stones. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +"OH, GENTLE WIND THAT BLOWETH SOUTH." + + +But if this girl, partly through her great yearning love, and partly +through the overshadowing of her past sufferings, was haunted by a +mysterious dread, that was not the prevailing feeling within this small +household which was now pulling itself together for a flight to the +south. Even she caught something of the brisk and cheerful spirit +awakened by all the bustle of departure; and when her father, who had +come to London Bridge station to see the whole of them off, noticed the +businesslike fashion in which she ordered everybody about, so that the +invalid should have his smallest comforts attended to, he could not help +saying, with a laugh-- + +"Well, Violet, this is better than starting for America all by yourself, +isn't it? But I don't think you would have been much put out by that +either." + +A smart young man came up, and was for entering the carriage. + +"I beg your pardon," said she, respectfully but firmly. "This carriage +is reserved." + +The young man looked at both windows. + +"I don't see that it is," he retorted coolly. + +He took hold of the handle of the door, when she immediately rose and +stood before him, an awful politeness and decorum on her face, but the +fire of Brünhilde the warrior maiden in her eyes. + +"You will please call the guard before coming in here. The carriage is +reserved." + +At this moment her father came forward--not a little inclined to laugh. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but the carriage is really reserved. There was +a written paper put up--it has fallen down, I suppose--there it is." + +So the smart young man went away; but was it fair, after this notable +victory, that they should all begin to make fun of her fierce and +majestic bearing, and that the very person for whose sake she had +confronted the enemy should begin to make ridiculous rhymes about her, +such as these: + + "Then out spake Violet Northimus-- + Of Euston Square was she-- + 'Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, + And guard the door with thee!'" + +Violet Northimus did not reply. She wore the modesty of a victor. She +was ready at any moment to meet six hundred such as he; and she was not +to be put out, after the discomfiture of her enemy, by a joke. + +Then they slowly rolled and grated out of the station, and by-and-by the +swinging pace increased, and they were out in the clearer light and the +fresher air, with a windy April sky showing flashes of blue from time to +time. They went down through a succession of thoroughly English looking +landscapes--quiet valleys with red-tiled cottages in them, bare heights +green with the young corn, long stretches of brown and almost leafless +woods, with the rough banks outside all starred with the pale, clear +primrose. There was one in that carriage who had had no lack of flowers +that spring--flowers brought by many a kindly hand to brighten the look +of the sick room; but surely it was something more wonderful to see the +flowers themselves, growing here in this actual and outside world which +had been to him for many a weary week but a dimly imagined dreamland. +There were primroses under the hedges, primroses along the high banks, +primroses shining pale and clear within the leafless woods, among the +russet leaves of the previous autumn. And then the life and motion of +the sky, the southwesterly winds, the black and lowering clouds +suddenly followed by a wild and dazzling gleam of sunlight, the grays +and purples flying on and leaving behind them a welcome expanse of +shining April blue. + +The day was certainly squally enough, and might turn to showers; but the +gusts of wind that blew through the carriage were singularly sweet and +mild; and again and again Mr. Drummond, who had been raised by all this +new life and light into the very highest spirits, declared with much +solemnity that he could already detect the smell of the salt sea air. +They had their quarrels of course. It pleased a certain young lady to +treat the south coast of England with much supercilious contempt. You +would have imagined from her talk that there was something criminal in +one's living even within twenty miles of the bleak downs, the shabby +precipices, and the muddy sea which, according to her, were the only +recognizable features of our southern shores. She would not admit indeed +that there was any sea at all there; there was only churned chalk. Was +it fair to say, even under the exasperation of continual goading, that +the Isle of Wight was only a trumpery toy shop; that its "scenery" was +fitly adorned with bazaars for the sale of sham jewelry; that its +amusements were on a par with those of Rosherville gardens; that its +rocks were made of mud and its sea of powdered lime? + +"By heavens," exclaimed her antagonist, "I will stand this no longer. I +will call upon Neptune to raise such a storm in the Solent as shall +convince you that there is quite enough sea surrounding that pearl of +islands, that paradise, that world's wonder we are going to visit." + +"Yes, I have no doubt," said she with sweet sarcasm, "that if you +stirred the Solent with a teaspoon, you would frighten the yachtsmen +there out of their wits." + +"Oh, Violet," cried another young lady, "you know you were dreadfully +frightened that night in Tobermory bay, when the equinoctial gales +caught us, and the men were tramping overhead all night long." + +"I should be more frightened down here," was the retort, "because if we +were driven ashore I should be choked first and drowned afterward. Fancy +going out of the world with a taste of chalk in your mouth." + +"Well, at this moment the fierce discussion was stopped by the arrival +of the train at Portsmouth; but here a very singular incident occurred. +Violet was the first to step out on to the platform. + +"You have a tramway car that goes down to the pier, have you not?" she +asked of the guard. + +"Ain't going to-day, miss," was the answer. "Boats can't come in to +Southsea--the sea is very high. You'll have to go to Portsea, miss." + +Now, what was this man's amazement on seeing this young lady suddenly +burst out laughing as she turned and looked into the carriage. + +"Did you hear that?" she cried. "The Solent is raging! They can't come +near Southsea! Don't you think, Mrs. Warrener, that it will be very +dangerous to go to Portsea?" + +"I'll tell you what it is," said Mrs. Warrener with a malicious smile, +"if a certain young lady I know were to be ill in crossing, she would be +a good deal more civil to her native country when she reached the other +side." + +But in good truth, when they got down to Portsea there was a pretty +stiff breeze blowing; and the walk out on the long pier was not a little +trying to an invalid who had but lately recovered the use of his limbs. +The small steamer, too, was tossing about considerably at her moorings; +and Violet pretended to be greatly alarmed because she did not see +half-a-dozen lifeboats on board. Then the word was given; the cables +thrown off; and presently the tiny steamer was running out to the windy +and gray-green sea, the waves of which not unfrequently sent a shower of +spray across her decks. The small party of voyagers crouched behind the +funnel, and were well out of the water's way. + +"Look there now," cried Mr. Drummond, suddenly pointing to a large bird +that was flying by, high up in the air, about a quarter of a mile +off--"do you see that? Do you know what that is? That is a wild goose, a +gray lag, that has been driven in by bad weather; _now_ can you say we +have no waves, and winds, and sea in the south?" + +Miss Violet was not daunted. + +"Perhaps it is a goose," she said coolly. "I never saw but one flying--- +you remember you shot it. What farm-yard has this one left?" + +"Oh, for shame, Violet," Mrs. Warrener called out, "to rake up old +stories!" + +She was punished for it. The insulted sportsman was casting about for +the cruelest retort he could think of, when, as it happened, Miss Violet +bethought her of looking round the corner of the boiler to see whether +they were getting near Ryde; and at the same moment it also happened +that a heavy wave, striking the bows of the steamer, sent a heap of +water whirling down between the paddle-box and the funnel, which caught +the young lady on the face with a crack like a whip. As to the shout of +laughter which then greeted her, that small party of folks had heard +nothing like it for many a day. There was salt water dripping from her +hair; salt water in her eyes; salt water running down her tingling and +laughing cheeks; and she richly deserved to be asked, as she was +immediately asked, whether the Solent was compounded of water and marl +or water and chalk, and which brand she preferred. + +Was it the balmy southern air that tempered the vehemence of these +wanderers as they made their way across the island, and getting into a +carriage at Ventnor, proceeded to drive along the Undercliff? There was +a great quiet prevailing along these southern shores. They drove by +underneath the tall and crumbling precipices, with wood pigeons +suddenly shooting out from the clefts, and jackdaws wheeling about far +up in the blue. They passed by sheltered woods, bestarred with anemones +and primroses, and showing here and there the purple of the as yet +half-opened hyacinth; they passed by lush meadows, all ablaze with the +golden yellow of the celandine and the purple of the ground ivy; they +passed by the broken, picturesque banks where the tender blue of the +speedwell was visible from time to time, with the white glimmer of the +starwort. And then all this time they had on their left a gleaming and +wind-driven sea, full of motion, and light, and color, and showing the +hurrying shadows of the flying clouds. + +At last far away, secluded and quiet, they came to a quaint little inn, +placed high over the sea, and surrounded by sheltering woods and hedges. +The sun lay warm on the smooth green lawn in front, where the daisies +grew. There were dark shadows--almost black shadows--along the +encircling hedge and under the cedars; but these only showed the more +brilliantly the silver lighting of the restless, whirling, wind-swept +sea beyond. It was a picturesque little house, with its long veranda +half-smothered in ivy and rose bushes now in bud; with its tangled +garden about, green with young hawthorn and sweetened by the perfume of +the lilacs; with its patches of uncut grass, where the yellow cowslips +drooped. There was an air of dreamy repose about the place; even that +whirling and silvery gray sea produced no sound; here the winds were +stilled, and the black shadows of the trees on that smooth green lawn +only moved with the imperceptible moving of the sun. + +Violet went up stairs and into her room alone; she threw open the small +casements, and stood there looking out with a somewhat vague and distant +look. There was no mischief now in those dark and tender eyes; there was +rather an anxious and wistful questioning. And her heart seemed to go +out from her to implore these gentle winds, and the soft colors of the +sea, and the dreamy stillness of the woods, that now they should, if +ever that was possible to them, bring all their sweet and curative +influences to bear on him who had come among them. Now, if ever! Surely +the favorable skies would heed, and the secret healing of the woods +would hear, and the bountiful life-giving sea winds would bestir to her +prayer! Surely it was not too late! + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +HOPE'S WINGS. + + +The long journey had taxed his returning strength to the utmost, and for +the remainder of that day he looked worn and fatigued; but on the next +morning he was in the best of spirits, and nothing would do but that +they should at once set out on their explorations. + +"Why not rest here?" said Violet. They were sitting in the shade of +their morning room, the French windows wide open, the pillars and roof +of the veranda outside framing in a picture of glowing sunlight and +green vegetation, with glimpses of the silvery, white sea beyond. "Why +not rest here?" she said; "what is the use of driving about to see bare +downs, and little holes in the mud that they call chasms, and waterfalls +that are turned on from the kitchen of the hotel above? That is what +they consider scenery in the Isle of Wight; and then, before you can see +it, you must buy a glass brooch or a china doll." + +The fact is, he did not himself particularly care about these +excursions, but he was afraid of the place becoming tiresome and +monotonous to one whom he would insist on regarding as a visitor. She on +the other hand affected a profound contempt for the sufficiently +pleasant places about the Isle of Wight for the very purpose of inducing +him to rest in the still seclusion of this retreat they had chosen. But +here was the carriage at the door. + +"Violet," said Amy Warrener, as they were leisurely driving along the +quiet ways, under the crumbling gray cliffs, where the jackdaws were +flying, "where shall we go for a climb? Don't you think we might come +upon another Mount Glorioso?" + +"No," said the girl rather absently; "I don't think we shall see another +Mount Glorioso soon again." + +"Not this autumn?" cried Mr. Drummond cheerfully; "not this summer?--for +why should we wait for the autumn! Violet, I have the most serious +projects with regard to the whole of us. It is high time that I set +about recognizing the ends of existence; that is to say, before I die I +must have a house in Bayswater and two thousand a year. All nice novels +end that way. Now, in order that we shall all reach this earthly +paradise, what is to be done? I have two projects. A publisher--the +first wise man of his race--I will write an epitaph for him quite +different from my universal epitaph--this shrewd and crafty person, +determined to rescue at least one mute, inglorious Milton from neglect, +has written to me. There! He has read my article on 'The Astronomical +Theory with regard to the Early Religions'; he has perceived the +profound wisdom, the research, the illuminating genius of that work--by +the way, I don't think I ever fully explained to you my notions on that +subject?" + +"Oh, no, please don't," said Violet meekly. "What does the publisher +say?" + +"Do you see the mean, practical, commercial spirit of these women?" he +said, apparently addressing himself. "It is only the money they think +of. They don't want to be instructed!" + +"I know the article well enough," said Violet blushing hotly. "I read +it--I--I saw it advertised, and bought the review, when I hadn't much +money to spend on such things." + +"Did you, Violet?" said he, forgetting for a moment his nonsense. Then +he continued: "The publisher thinks that with some padding of a general +and attractive nature, the subject might be made into a book. Why, +therefore, should not our fortune be made at once, and the gates of +Bayswater thrown open to the Peri? I do believe I could make an +interesting book. I will throw in a lot of Irish anecdotes. I wonder if +I could have it illustrated with pictures of 'Charles I. in Prison,' the +'Dying Infant,' 'The Sailor's Adieu,' and some such popular things!" + +"I think," said Violet humbly, "we might go on to the other project." + +"Ah," said he thoughtfully, "that requires time and silence first. I +must have the inspiration of the mountains before I can resolve it. Do +you know what it is?" + +"Not yet." + +"It is the utilizing of a great natural force. That is what all science +is trying to do now; and here is one of the mightiest forces in nature +of which nothing is made, unless it be that a few barges get floated up +and down our rivers. Do you see? The great mass of tidal force, +absolutely irresistible in its strength, punctual as the clock itself, +always to be calculated on--why should this great natural engine remain +unused?" + +"But then, uncle," said a certain young lady, "if you made the tide +drive machinery at one time of the day, you would have to turn the house +round to let it drive it again as it was going back." + +"Child, child!" said the inventor peevishly, "why do you tack on these +petty details to my grand conception? It is the idea I want to sell; +other people can use it. Now, will the government grant me a patent?" + +"Certainly," said Violet. + +"What royalty on all work executed by utilizing the tidal currents?" + +"A million per cent." + +"How much will that bring in?" + +"Three millions a minute!" + +"Ah," said he, sinking back with a sigh, "we have then reached the goal +at last. Bayswater, we approach you. Shall the brougham be bottle-green +or coffee-colored?" + +"A brougham!" cried Violet; "no--a barge of white and gold, with crimson +satin sails, and oars of bronze, towed by a company of snow-white +swans----" + +"Or mergansers"---- + +"And floating through the canals of claret which we shall set flowing in +the streets. Then the Lord Mayor and the corporation will come to meet +you, and you will get the freedom of the city presented in a gold +snuff-box. As for Buckingham Palace--well, a baronetcy would be a nice +thing." + +"A baronetcy! Three millions a year and only a baronet! By the monuments +of Westminster Abbey, I will become a duke and an archbishop rolled into +one, and have the right of sending fifteen people a day to be beheaded +at the tower." + +"Oh, not that, uncle!" + +"And why not?" + +"Because there wouldn't be any publishers at the end of the year." + +"And here we are at Black Gang Chine!" + +Violet would not go down. She positively refused to go down. She called +the place Black Gang Sham, and hoped they were pouring enough water down +the kitchen pipe of the hotel to make a foaming cataract. But she begged +Mrs. Warrener and Amy, who had not seen the place, to go down, while she +remained in the carriage with Mr. Drummond. So these two disappeared +into the bazaar. + +"You are not really going to Scotland, are you?" she said simply, her +head cast down. + +"I have been thinking of it," he answered. "Why not?" + +"The air here is very sweet and soft," she said in a hesitating way. "Of +course, I know, the climate on the west coast of Scotland is very mild, +and you would get the mountain air as well as the sea air. But don't you +think the storms, the gales that blow in the spring----" + +"Oh," said he cheerfully, "I shall never be pulled together till I get +up to the north--I know that. I may have to remain here till I get +stronger, but by-and-by I hope we shall all go up to Scotland together, +and that long before the shooting begins." + +"I--I am afraid," said she, "that I shall not be of the party." + +"You? Not you?" he cried. "You are not going to leave us, Violet, just +after we have found you?" + +He took her hand, but she still averted her eyes. + +"I half promised," she said, "to spend some time with Mr. and Mrs. +Dowse. They are very lonely. They think they have a claim on me, and +they have been very kind." + +"You are not going to Mr. and Mrs. Dowse, Violet," said he promptly. "I +pity the poor people, but we have a prior claim on you, and we mean to +insist on it. What, just after all this grief of separation, you would +go away from us again? No, no! I tell you, Violet, we shall never find +you your real self until you have been braced up by the sea breezes. I +mean the real sea breezes. You want a scamper among the heather--I can +see that; for I have been watching you of late, and you are not up to +the right mark. The sooner we all go the better. Do you understand +that?" + +He had been talking lightly and cheerfully, not caring who overheard. +She, on the other hand, was anxious and embarrassed, not daring to utter +what was on her mind. At last she said: + +"Will you get down for a minute or two, and walk along the road? It is +very sheltered here, and the sun is warm." + +He did so, and she took his arm, and they walked away apart in the +sunlight and silence. When they had gone some distance she stopped and +said in a low and earnest voice: + +"Don't you know why I cannot go to the Highlands with you? It would kill +me. How could I go back to all those places?" + +"I understand that well enough, Violet," said he gently, "but don't you +think you ought to go for the very purpose of conquering that feeling? +There is nothing in that part of the country to inspire you with dread. +You would see it all again in its accustomed light." + +She shook her head. + +"Very well, then," said he, for he was determined not to let these +gloomy impressions of the girl overcome him. "If not there, somewhere +else. We are not tied to Castle Bandbox. There is plenty of space about +the West Highlands or about the Central Highlands, for the matter of +that. Shall we try to get some lodging in an inn or farmhouse about the +Moor of Rannoch? Or will you try the islands--Jura, or Islay, or Mull?" + +She did not answer. She seemed to be in a dream. + +"Shall I tell you, Violet," he continued, gravely and gently, "why I +want you to come with us? I am anxious that you and I should be together +as long--as long as that is possible. One never knows what may happen, +and lately--well, we need not speak of it; but I don't wish us to be +parted, Violet." + +She burst into a violent fit of crying and sobbing. She had been +struggling bravely to repress this gathering emotion; but his direct +reference to the very thought that was overshadowing her mind was too +much for her. And along with this wild grief came as keen remorse, for +was this the conduct required of an attendant upon an invalid? + +"You must forgive me," she sobbed. "I don't know what it is--I have been +very nervous of late--and--and-----" + +"There is nothing to cry about, Violet," said he gently. "What is to be, +is to be. You have not lost your old courage! Only let us be together +while we can." + +"Oh, my love, my love!" she suddenly cried, taking his hand in both of +hers, and looking up to him with her piteous, tear-dimmed eyes; "we will +always be together! What is it that you say?--what is it that you mean? +Not that you are going away without me? I have courage for anything but +that. It does not matter what comes, only that I must go with you--we +two together!" + +"Hush, hush, Violet," said he soothingly, for he saw that the girl was +really beside herself with grief and apprehension. "Come, this is not +like the brave Violet of old. I thought there was nothing in all the +world you were afraid to face. Look up, now." + +She released his hand, and a strange expression came over her face. That +wild outburst had been an involuntary confession; now a great fear and +shame filled her heart that she should have been betrayed into it, and +in a despairing, pathetic fashion she tried to explain away her words. + +"We shall be together, shall we not?" she said, with an affected +cheerfulness, though she was still crying gently. "It does not matter +what part of the Highlands you go to--I will go with you. I must write +and explain to Mrs. Dowse. It would be a pity that we should separate so +soon, after that long time, would it not? And then the brisk air of the +hills, and of the yachting, will be better for you than the hot summer +here, won't it? And I am sure you will get very well there; that is just +the place for you to get strong; and when the time for the shooting +comes, we shall all go out, as we used to do, to see you missing every +bird that gets up." + +She tried to smile, but did not succeed very well. + +"And really it does not matter to me so very much what part we go to, +for, as you say, one ought to conquer these feelings, and if you prefer +Castle Bandbox, I will go there too--that is, I shall be very proud to +go if I am not in the way. And you know I am the only one who can make +cartridges for you." + +"I don't think I shall trouble the cartridges very much," said he, glad +to think she was becoming more cheerful. + +"Indeed," she continued, "I don't know what would have become of your +gun if I had not looked after it, for you only half cleaned it, and old +Peter would not touch it, and the way the sea air rusted the barrels was +quite remarkable. Will you have No. 3 or No. 4 shot this year for the +sea birds?" + +"Well," he answered gravely, "you see we shall have no yacht this year, +and probably no chances of wild duck at all; and it would scarcely be +worth while to make cartridges merely to fire away at these harmless and +useless sea pyots and things of that sort." + +"Oh, but my papa could easily get us a yacht," she said promptly; "he +would be delighted--I know he would be delighted. And I have been told +you can get a small yacht for about £40 a month, crew and everything +included, and what is that? Indeed, I think it is quite necessary you +should have a yacht." + +"Forty pounds," said he. "I think we could manage that. But then we +should deduct something from the wages of the crew on the strength of +our taking our own cook with us. Do you remember that cook? She had a +wonderful trick of making apricot jam puddings; how the dickens she +managed to get so much jam crammed in I never could make out. She was +just about as good at that as at making cartridges. Did you ever hear of +that cook?" + +By this time they had walked gently back to the carriage, and now Mrs. +Warrener and her daughter made their appearance. The elder woman noticed +something strange about Violet's expression, but she did not speak of +it, for surely the girl was happy enough? She was, indeed, quite merry. +She told Mrs. Warrener she was ready to go with them to the Highlands +whenever they chose. She proposed that this time they should go up the +Caledonian canal, and go down by Loch Maree, and then go out and visit +the western isles. She said the sooner they went the better; they would +get all the beautiful summer of the north; it was only the autumn +tourists who complained of the rain of the Highlands. + +"But we had little rain last autumn," said Mrs. Warrener. + +"Oh, very little indeed," said Violet, quite brightly; "we had charming +weather all through. I never enjoyed myself anywhere so much. I think +the sooner your brother gets up to the Highlands, the better it will do +him a world of good." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +DU SCHMERZENSREICHE! + + +So the long, silent, sunlit days passed, and it seemed to the three +patient watchers that the object of their care was slowly recovering +health and strength. But if they were all willing and eager to wait on +him, it was Violet who was his constant companion and friend, his +devoted attendant, his humble scholar. Sometimes when Mrs. Warrener's +heart grew sore within her to think of the wrong that had been wrought +in the past, the tender little woman tried to solace herself somewhat by +regarding these two as they now sat together--he the whimsical, +affectionate master, she the meek pupil and disciple, forgetting all the +proud dignity of her maidenhood, her fire, and audacity, and +independence, in the humility and self-surrender of her love. Surely, +she thought, this time was making up for much of the past. And if all +went well now, what had they to look forward to but a still closer +companionship in which the proud, and loyal, and fearless girl would +become the tender and obedient wife? There was no jealousy in the nature +of this woman. She would have laughed with joy if she could have heard +their marriage bells. + +And Violet, too, when the sun lay warm on the daisies and cowslips, when +the sweet winds blew the scent of the lilacs about, and when her master +and teacher grew strong enough to walk with her along the quiet woodland +ways--how could she fail to pick up some measure of cheerfulness and +hope? It almost seemed as if she had dropped into a new world; and it +was a beautiful world, full of tenderness, and laughter, and sunshine. +Henceforth there was to be no more George Miller to bother her; he had +gone clean out of existence as far as she was concerned; there was no +more skirmishing with Lady North; even the poor Dowses, with their +piteous loneliness and solemn house, were almost forgotten. Here was her +whole world. And when she noticed the increasing distances that he +walked, and the brighter look of his face, and the growing courage and +carelessness of his habits--then indeed the world became a beautiful +world to her, and she was almost inclined to fall in love with those +whirling and gleaming southern seas. + +It was in the black night-time, when all the household but herself were +asleep, that she paid the penalty of these transient joys. Haunted by +the one terrible fear, she could gain no rest; it was in vain that she +tried to reason with herself; her imagination was like some hideous +fiend continually whispering to her ear. Then she had no friend with +whom to share those terrible doubts; she dared not mention them to any +human soul. Why should she disturb the gentle confidence of his sister +and her daughter? She could not make them miserable merely to lift from +her own mind a portion of its anxiety. She could only lie awake, night +after night, and rack her brain with a thousand gloomy forebodings. She +recalled certain phrases he had used in moments of pathetic confidence. +She recalled the quick look of pain with which he sometimes paused in +the middle of his speech, the almost involuntary raising the hand to the +region of the heart, the passing pallor of the face. Had they seen none +of those things? Had they no wild, despairing thoughts about him? Was it +possible they could go peacefully to sleep with this dread thing hanging +over them, with a chance of awaking to a day of bitter anguish and +wild, heart-broken farewell? This cruel anxiety, kept all to herself, +was killing the girl. She grew restless and feverish; sometimes she sat +up half the night at the window listening to the moaning of the dark sea +outside; she became languid during the day, pale, and distraite. But it +was not to last long. + +One evening these two were together in the small parlor, he lying down, +she sitting near him with a book in her hand. The French windows were +open; they could hear Mrs. Warrener and her daughter talking in the +garden. And, strangely enough, the sick man's thoughts were once more +turned to the far Highlands, and to their life among the hills, and the +pleasant merry-making on board the Sea Pyot. + +"The air of this place does not agree with you at all, Violet," he was +saying. "You are not looking nearly so well as you did when we came +down. You are the only one who has not benefited by the change. Now that +won't do; we cannot have a succession of invalids--a Greek frieze of +patients, all carrying phials of medicine. We must get off to the +Highlands at once. What do you say--a fortnight hence?" + +She knelt down beside him, and took his hand, and said in a low voice-- + +"Do not be angry with me--it is very unreasonable, I know--but I have a +strange dread of the Highlands. I have dreamed so often lately of being +up there--and of being swept away on a dark sea--in the middle of the +night." + +She shuddered. He put his hand gently on her head. + +"There is no wonder you should dream of that," he said with a smile. +"That is only part of the story which you made us all believe. But we +have got a brighter finish for it now. You have not been overwhelmed in +that dark flood yet----" + +He paused. + +"Violet! My love!" he suddenly cried. + +He let go her hand, and made a wild grasp at his left breast; his face +grew white with pain. What made her instinctively throw her arms round +him, with terror in her eyes? + +"Violet! What is this? Kiss me!" + +It was but one second after that that a piercing shriek rang through the +place. The girl had sprung up like a deer shot through the heart; her +eyes dilated, her face wild and pale. Mrs. Warrener came running in; but +paused, and almost retreated in fear from the awful spectacle before +her; for the girl still held the dead man's hand, and she was laughing +merrily. The dark sea she had dreaded had overtaken her at last. + + * * * * * + +But one more scene--months afterward. It is the breakfast room in Lady +North's house in Euston Square; and Anatolia is sitting there alone. The +door opens, and a tall young girl, dressed in a white morning costume, +comes silently in; there is a strange and piteous look of trouble in her +dark eyes. Anatolia goes over to her, and takes her hand very tenderly, +and leads her to the easy-chair she had herself just quitted. + +"There is not any letter yet?" she asks, having looked all round the +table with a sad and wearied air. + +"No, dear, not yet," says Anatolia, who, unlovely though she may be, has +a sympathetic heart; and her lip trembles as she speaks. "You must be +patient, Violet." + +"It is another morning gone, and there is no letter, and I cannot +understand it," says the girl, apparently to herself, and then she +begins to cry silently, while her half-sister goes to her, and puts her +arm around her neck, and tries to soothe her. + +Lady North comes into the room. Some changes have happened within these +few months; it is "Mother" and "My child" now between the enemies of +yore. And as she bids Violet good morning, and gently kisses her, the +girl renews her complaint. + +"Mother, why do they keep back his letter? I know he must have written +to me long ago; and I cannot go to him until I get the letter! and he +will wonder why I am not coming. Morning after morning I listen for the +postman--I can hear him in the street from house to house--and they all +get their letters, but I don't get this one that is worth all the world +to me. And I never neglected anything that he said; and I was always +very obedient to him; and he will wonder now that I don't go to him, and +perhaps he will think that I am among my other friends now and have +forgotten---- No, he will not think that. I have not forgotten." + +"My child, you must not vex yourself," says Lady North with all the +tenderness of which she is capable--and Anatolia is bitterly crying all +the while. "It will be all right. And you must not look sad to-day; for +you know Mrs. Warrener and your friend Amy are coming to see you." + +She does not seem to pay much heed. + +"Shall we go for the flowers to-day?" she asks, with her dark wet eyes +raised for the first time. + +"My darling, this is not the day we go for the flowers; that is +to-morrow." + +"And what is the use of it?" she says, letting her head sink sadly +again. "Every time I go over to Nunhead I listen all by myself--and I +know he is not there at all. The flowers look pretty, because his name +is over them. But he is not there at all--he is far away--and he was to +send me a message--and every day I wait for it--and they keep the letter +back. Mother, are all my dresses ready?" + +"Yes, Violet." + +"You are quite sure!" + +"They are all ready, Violet. Don't trouble about that." + +"It is the white satin one he will like the best; and he will be pleased +that I am not in black like the others. Mother, Mrs. Warrener and Amy +surely cannot mean to come to the wedding in black." + +"Surely not, Violet. But come, dear, to your breakfast." + +She took her place quite calmly and humbly; but her mind was still +wandering toward that picture. + +"I hope they will strew the church-yard with flowers as we pass through +it--not for me, but for him; for he will be pleased with that; and there +is more than all that is in the Prayer-book that I will promise to be to +him, when we two are kneeling together. You are quite sure everything is +ready?" + +"Everything, my darling." + +"And you think the message from him will come soon now?" + +"I think it will come soon now, Violet," was the answer, given with +trembling lips. + + THE END. + + * * * * * + +And now to you--you whose names are written in these blurred pages, some +portion of whose lives I have tried to trace with a wandering and +uncertain pen--I stretch out a hand of farewell. Yet not quite of +farewell, perhaps: for amid all the shapes and phantoms of this world of +mystery, where the shadows we meet can tell us neither whence they came +nor whither they go, surely you have for me a no less substantial +existence that may have its chances in the time to come. To me you are +more real than most I know: what wonder then if I were to meet you on +the threshold of the great unknown, you all shining with a new light on +your face? Trembling, I stretch out my hands to you, for your silence is +awful, and there is sadness in your eyes; but the day may come when you +will speak, and I shall hear--and understand. + + + + +JULIET ON THE BALCONY. + + + O lips that are so lonely + For want of his caress; + O heart that art too faithful + To ever love him less; + O eyes that find no sweetness + For hunger of his face; + O hands that long to feel him, + Always, in every place! + + My spirit leans and listens, + But only hears his name, + And thought to thought leaps onward + As flame leaps unto flame; + And all kin to each other + As any brood of flowers, + Or these sweet winds of night, love, + That fan the fainting hours! + + My spirit leans and listens, + My heart stands up and cries, + And only one sweet vision + Comes ever to my eyes. + So near and yet so far, love, + So dear, yet out of reach, + So like some distant star, love, + Unnamed in human speech! + + My spirit leans and listens, + My heart goes out to him, + Through all the long night watches, + Until the dawning dim; + My spirit leans and listens, + What if, across the night, + His strong heart send a message + To flood me with delight? + + HOWARD GLYNDON. + + + + +OUR RURAL DIVINITY. + + +I wonder that Wilson Flagg did not include the cow among his +"Picturesque Animals," for that is where she belongs. She has not the +classic beauty of the horse, but in picture-making qualities she is far +ahead of him. Her shaggy, loose-jointed body, her irregular, sketchy +outlines, like those of the landscape--the hollows and ridges, the +slopes and prominences--her tossing horns, her bushy tail, her swinging +gait, her tranquil, ruminating habits--all tend to make her an object +upon which the artist eye loves to dwell. The artists are for ever +putting her into pictures too. In rural landscape scenes she is an +important feature. Behold her grazing in the pastures and on the hill +sides, or along banks of streams, or ruminating under wide-spreading +trees, or standing belly deep in the creek or pond, or lying upon the +smooth places in the quiet summer afternoon, the day's grazing done, and +waiting to be summoned home to be milked; and again in the twilight +lying upon the level summit of the hill, or where the sward is thickest +and softest; or in winter a herd of them filing along toward the spring +to drink, or being "foddered" from the stack in the field upon the new +snow--surely the cow is a picturesque animal, and all her goings and +comings are pleasant to behold. + +I looked into Hamerton's clever book on the domestic animals, also +expecting to find my divinity duly celebrated, but he passes her by and +contemplates the bovine qualities only as they appear in the ox and the +bull. + +Neither have the poets made much of the cow, but have rather dwelt upon +the steer, or the ox yoked to the plough. I recall this touch from +Emerson: + + The heifer that lows in the upland farm, + Far heard, lows not thine ear to charm. + +But the ear is charmed nevertheless, especially if it be not too near, +and the air be still and dense, or hollow, as the farmer says. And +again, if it be spring time and she task that powerful bellows of hers +to its utmost capacity, how round the sound is, and how far it goes over +the hills. + +The cow has at least four tones or lows. First, there is her alarmed or +distressed low, when deprived of her calf, or separated from her +mates--her low of affection. Then there is her call of hunger, a +petition for food, sometimes full of impatience, or her answer to the +farmer's call, full of eagerness. Then there is that peculiar frenzied +bawl she utters on smelling blood, which causes every member of the herd +to lift its head and hasten to the spot--the native cry of the clan. +When she is gored or in great danger she bawls also, but that is +different. And lastly, there is the long, sonorous volley she lets off +on the hills or in the yard, or along the highway, and which seems to be +expressive of a kind of unrest and vague longing--the longing of the +imprisoned Io for her lost identity. She sends her voice forth so that +every god on Mount Olympus can hear her plaint. She makes this sound in +the morning, especially in the spring, as she goes forth to graze. + +One of our rural poets, Myron Benton, whose verse often has the flavor +of sweet cream, has written some lines called "Rumination," in which the +cow is the principal figure, and with which I am permitted to adorn my +theme. The poet first gives his attention to a little brook that "breaks +its shallow gossip" at his feet and "drowns the oriole's voice": + + But moveth not that wise and ancient cow, + Who chews her juicy cud so languid now + Beneath her favorite elm, whose drooping bough + Lulls all but inward vision, fast asleep: + But still, her tireless tail a pendulum sweep + Mysterious clockwork guides, and some hid pulley + Her drowsy cud, each moment, raises duly. + + Of this great, wondrous world she has seen more + Than you, my little brook, and cropped its store + Of succulent grass on many a mead and lawn; + And strayed to distant uplands in the dawn. + And she has had some dark experience + Of graceless man's ingratitude; and hence + Her ways have not been ways of pleasantness, + Nor all her paths of peace. But her distress + And grief she has lived past; your giddy round + Disturbs her not, for she is learned profound + In deep brahminical philosophy. + She chews the cud of sweetest revery + Above your worldly prattle, brooklet merry, + Oblivious of all things sublunary. + +The cow figures in Grecian mythology, and in the Oriental literature is +treated as a sacred animal. "The clouds are cows and the rain milk." I +remember what Herodotus says of the Egyptians' worship of heifers and +steers; and in the traditions of the Celtic nations the cow is regarded +as a divinity. In Norse mythology the milk of the cow Andhumbla afforded +nourishment to the Frost giants, and it was she that licked into being +and into shape a god, the father of Odin. If anything could lick a god +into shape, certainly the cow could do it. You may see her perform this +office for young Taurus any spring. She licks him out of the fogs and +bewilderments and uncertainties in which he finds himself on first +landing upon these shores, and up on to his feet in an incredibly short +time. Indeed, that potent tongue of hers can almost make the dead alive +any day, and the creative lick of the old Scandinavian mother cow is +only a large-lettered rendering of the commonest facts. + +The horse belongs to the fiery god Mars. He favors war, and is one of +its oldest, most available, and most formidable engines. The steed is +clothed with thunder, and smells the battle from afar; but the cattle +upon a thousand hills denote that peace and plenty bear sway in the +land. The neighing of the horse is a call to battle; but the lowing of +old Brockleface in the valley brings the golden age again. The savage +tribes are never without the horse; the Scythians are all mounted; but +the cow would tame and humanize them. When the Indians will cultivate +the cow, I shall think their civilization fairly begun. Recently, when +the horses were sick with the epizoötic, and the oxen came to the city +and helped to do their work, what an Arcadian air again filled the +streets. But the dear old oxen--how awkward and distressed they looked! +Juno wept in the face of every one of them. The horse is a true citizen, +and is entirely at home in the paved streets; but the ox--what a +complete embodiment of all rustic and rural things! Slow, deliberate, +thick-skinned, powerful, hulky, ruminating, fragrant-breathed, when he +came to town the spirit and suggestion of all Georgics and Bucolics came +with him. Oh, citizen, was it only a plodding, unsightly brute that went +by? Was there no chord in your bosom, long silent, that sweetly vibrated +at the sight of that patient, Herculean couple? Did you smell no hay or +cropped herbage, see no summer pastures with circles of cool shade, hear +no voice of herds among the hills? They were very likely the only horses +your grandfather ever had. Not much trouble to harness and unharness +them. Not much vanity on the road in those days. They did all the work +on the early pioneer farm. They were the gods whose rude strength first +broke the soil. They could live where the moose and the deer could. If +there was no clover or timothy to be had, then the twigs of the basswood +and birch would do. Before there were yet fields given up to grass, they +found ample pasturage in the woods. Their wide-spreading horns gleamed +in the duskiness, and their paths and the paths of the cows became the +future roads and highways, or even the streets of great cities. + +All the descendants of Odin show a bovine trace, and cherish and +cultivate the cow. What were those old Vikings but thick-hided bulls +that delighted in nothing so much as goring each other? And has not the +charge of beefiness been brought much nearer home to us than that? But +about all the northern races there is something that is kindred to +cattle in the best sense--something in their art and literature that is +essentially pastoral, sweet-breathed, continent, dispassionate, +ruminating, wide-eyed, soft-voiced--a charm of kine, the virtue of +brutes. + +The cow belongs more especially to the northern peoples, to the region +of the good, green grass. She is the true _grazing_ animal. That broad, +smooth, always dewy nose of hers is just the suggestion of green sward. +She caresses the grass; she sweeps off the ends of the leaves; she reaps +it with the soft sickle of her tongue. She crops close, but she does not +bruise or devour the turf like the horse. She is the sward's best +friend, and will make it thick and smooth as a carpet. + + The turfy mountains where live the nibbling sheep + +are not for her. Her muzzle is too blunt; then she does not _bite_ as do +the sheep; she has not upper teeth; she _crops_. But on the lower +slopes, and margins, and rich bottoms, she is at home. Where the daisy +and the buttercup and clover bloom, and where corn will grow, is her +proper domain. The agriculture of no country can long thrive without +her. Not only a large part of the real, but much of the potential wealth +of the land is wrapped up in her. + +What a variety of individualities a herd of cows presents when you have +come to know them all, not only in form and color, but in manners and +disposition. Some are timid and awkward and the butt of the whole herd. +Some remind you of deer. Some have an expression in the face like +certain persons you have known. A petted and well-fed cow has a +benevolent and gracious look; an ill-used and poorly-fed one a pitiful +and forlorn look. Some cows have a masculine or ox expression; others +are extremely feminine. The latter are the ones for milk. Some cows will +kick like a horse; some jump fences like deer. Every herd has its +ringleader, its unruly spirit--one that plans all the mischief and leads +the rest through the fences into the grain or into the orchard. This one +is usually quite different from the master spirit, the "boss of the +yard." The latter is generally the most peaceful and law-abiding cow in +the lot, and the least bullying and quarrelsome. But she is not to be +trifled with; her will is law; the whole herd give way before her, those +that have crossed horns with her, and those that have not, but yielded +their allegiance without crossing. I remember such a one among my +father's milkers when I was a boy--a slender-horned, deep-shouldered, +large-uddered, dewlapped old cow that we always put first in the long +stable so she could not have a cow on each side of her to forage upon; +for the master is yielded to no less in the stancheons than in the yard. +She always had the first place anywhere. She had her choice of standing +room in the milking yard, and when she wanted to lie down there or in +the fields the best and softest spot was hers. When the herd were +foddered from the stack or barn, or fed with pumpkins in the fall, she +was always first served. Her demeanor was quiet but impressive. She +never bullied or gored her mates, but literally ruled them with the +breath of her nostrils. If any newcomer or ambitious younger cow, +however, chafed under her supremacy, she was ever ready to make good her +claims. And with what spirit she would fight when openly challenged! She +was a whirlwind of pluck and valor; and not after one defeat or two +defeats would she yield the championship. The boss cow, when overcome, +seems to brood over her disgrace, and day after day will meet her rival +in fierce combat. + +A friend of mine, a pastoral philosopher, whom I have consulted in +regard to the master cow, thinks it is seldom the case that one rules +all the herd, if it number many, but that there is often one that will +rule nearly all. "Curiously enough," he says, "a case like this will +often occur: No. 1 will whip No. 2; No. 2 whips No. 3; and No. 3 whips +No. 1; so around in a circle. This is not a mistake; it is often the +case. I remember," he continued, "we once had feeding out of a large bin +in the centre of the yard six oxen who mastered right through in +succession from No. 1 to No. 6; _but No. 6 paid off the score by +whipping No. 1_. I often watched them when they were all trying to feed +out of the box, and of course trying, dog-in-the-manger fashion, each to +prevent any other he could. They would often get in the order to do it +very systematically, since they could keep rotating about the box till +the chain happened to get broken somewhere, when there would be +confusion. Their mastership, you know, like that between nations, is +constantly changing. But there are always Napoleons who hold their own +through many vicissitudes; but the ordinary cow is continually liable to +lose her foothold. Some cow she has always despised, and has often sent +tossing across the yard at her horns' ends, some pleasant morning will +return the compliment and pay off old scores." + +But my own observation has been that in herds in which there have been +no important changes for several years, the question of might gets +pretty well settled, and some one cow becomes the acknowledged ruler. + +The bully of the yard is never the master, but usually a second or +third-rate pusher that never loses an opportunity to hook those beneath +her, or to gore the masters if she can get them in a tight place. If +such a one can get loose in the stable, she is quite certain to do +mischief. She delights to pause in the open bars and turn and keep those +at bay behind her till she sees a pair of threatening horns pressing +toward her, when she quickly passes on. As one cow masters all, so there +is one cow that is mastered by all. These are the two extremes of the +herd, the head and the tail. Between them are all grades of authority, +with none so poor but hath some poorer to do her reverence. + +The cow has evidently come down to us from a wild or semi-wild state; +perhaps is a descendant of those wild, shaggy cattle of which a small +band still exists in the forests of Scotland. Cuvier seems to have been +of this opinion. One of the ways in which her wild instincts still crop +out is the disposition she shows in spring to hide her calf--a common +practice among the wild herds. Her wild nature would be likely to come +to the surface at this crisis if ever; and I have known cows that +practised great secrecy in dropping their calves. As their time +approached they grew restless, a wild and excited look was upon them, +and if left free, they generally set out for the woods or for some other +secluded spot. After the calf is several hours old, and has got upon its +feet and had its first meal, the dam by some sign commands it to lie +down and remain quiet while she goes forth to feed. If the calf is +approached at such time, it plays "'possum," assumes to be dead or +asleep, till on finding this ruse does not succeed, it mounts to its +feet, bleats loudly and fiercely, and charges desperately upon the +intruder. But it recovers from this wild scare in a little while, and +never shows signs of it again. + +The habit of the cow, also, in eating the placenta, looks to me like a +vestige of her former wild instincts--the instinct to remove everything +that would give the wild beasts a clue or a scent, and so attract them +to her helpless young. + +How wise and sagacious the cows become that run upon the street, or pick +their living along the highway. The mystery of gates and bars is at last +solved to them. They ponder over them by night, they lurk about them by +day, till they acquire a new sense--till they become _en rapport_ with +them and know when they are open and unguarded. The garden gate, if it +open into the highway at any point, is never out of the mind of these +roadsters, or out of their calculations. They calculate upon the chances +of its being left open a certain number of times in the season; and if +it be but once and only for five minutes, your cabbage and sweet corn +suffer. What villager, or countryman either, has not been awakened at +night by the squeaking and crunching of those piratical jaws under the +window or in the direction of the vegetable patch? I have had the cows, +after they had eaten up my garden, break into the stable where my own +milcher was tied, and gore her and devour her meal. Yes, life presents +but one absorbing problem to the street cow, and that is how to get into +your garden. She catches glimpses of it over the fence or through the +pickets, and her imagination or epigastrium is inflamed. When the spot +is surrounded by a high board fence, I think I have seen her peeping at +the cabbages through a knot-hole. At last she learns to open the gate. +It is a great triumph of bovine wit. She does it with her horn or her +nose, or may be with her ever ready tongue. I doubt if she has ever yet +penetrated the mystery of the newer patent fastenings; but the +old-fashioned thumb-latch she can see through, give her time enough. + +A large, lank, muley or polled cow used to annoy me in this way when I +was a dweller in a certain pastoral city. I more than half suspected she +was turned in by some one; so one day I watched. Presently I heard the +gate-latch rattle; the gate swung open, and in walked the old buffalo. +On seeing me she turned and ran like a horse. I then fastened the gate +on the inside and watched again. After long waiting the old cow came +quickly round the corner and approached the gate. She lifted the latch +with her nose. Then, as the gate did not move, she lifted it again and +again. Then she gently nudged it. Then, the obtuse gate not taking the +hint, she butted it gently, then harder and still harder, till it +rattled again. At this juncture I emerged from my hiding place, when +the old villain scampered off with great precipitation. She knew she was +trespassing, and she had learned that there were usually some swift +penalties attached to this pastime. + +I have owned but three cows and loved but one. That was the first one, +Chloe, a bright red, curly-pated, golden-skinned Devonshire cow, that an +ocean steamer landed for me upon the banks of the Potomac one bright May +day many clover summers ago. She came from the north, from the pastoral +regions of the Catskills, to graze upon the broad commons of the +national capital. I was then the fortunate and happy lessee of an old +place with an acre of ground attached, almost within the shadow of the +dome of the capitol. Behind a high but aged and decrepit board fence I +indulged my rural and unclerical tastes. I could look up from my homely +tasks and cast a potato almost in the midst of that cataract of marble +steps that flows out of the north wing of the patriotic pile. Ah, when +that creaking and sagging back gate closed behind me in the evening, I +was happy; and when it opened for my egress thence in the morning, I was +not happy. Inside that gate was a miniature farm redolent of homely, +primitive life, a tumble-down house and stables and implements of +agriculture and horticulture, broods of chickens, and growing pumpkins, +and a thousand antidotes to the weariness of an artificial life. Outside +of it were the marble and iron palaces, the paved and blistering +streets, and the high, vacant, mahogany desk of a government clerk. In +that ancient enclosure I took an earth bath twice a day. I planted +myself as deep in the soil as I could to restore the normal tone and +freshness of my system, impaired by the above mentioned government +mahogany. I have found there is nothing like the earth to draw the +various social distempers out of one. The blue devils take flight at +once if they see you mean to bury them and make compost of them. +Emerson intimates that the scholar had better not try to have two +gardens; but I could never spend an hour hoeing up dock and red-root and +twitch grass without in some way getting rid of many weeds and fungus, +unwholesome growths that a petty, in-doors life was for ever fostering +in my own moral and intellectual nature. + +But the finishing touch was not given till Chloe came. She was the jewel +for which this homely setting waited. My agriculture had some object +then. The old gate never opened with such alacrity as when she paused +before it. How we waited for her coming! Should I send Drewer, the +colored patriarch, for her? No; the master of the house himself should +receive Juno at the capital. + +"One cask for you," said the clerk, referring to the steamer bill of +lading. + +"Then I hope it's a cask of milk," I said. "I expected a cow." + +"One cask it says here." + +"Well, let's see it; I'll warrant it has horns and is tied by a rope"; +which proved to be the case, for there stood the only object that bore +my name, chewing its cud, on the forward deck. How she liked the voyage +I could not find out; but she seemed to relish so much the feeling of +solid ground beneath her feet once more that she led me a lively step +all the way home. She cut capers in front of the White House, and tried +twice to wind me up in the rope as we passed the Treasury. She kicked up +her heels on the broad avenue and became very coltish as she came under +the walls of the capitol. But that night the long-vacant stall in the +old stable was filled, and the next morning the coffee had met with a +change of heart. I had to go out twice with the lantern and survey my +treasure before I went to bed. Did she not come from the delectable +mountains, and did I not have a sort of filial regard for her as toward +my foster mother? + +This was during the Arcadian age at the capital, before the easy-going +southern ways had gone out and the prim new northern ways had come in, +and when the domestic animals were treated with distinguished +consideration and granted the freedom of the city. There was a charm of +cattle in the streets and upon the commons: goats cropped your rose +bushes through the pickets, and nooned upon your front porch, and pigs +dreamed Arcadian dreams under your garden fence or languidly frescoed it +with pigments from the nearest pool. It was a time of peace; it was the +poor man's golden age. Your cow, or your goat, or your pig led a +vagrant, wandering life, and picked up a subsistence wherever they +could, like the bees, which was almost everywhere. Your cow went forth +in the morning and came home fraught with milk at night, and you never +troubled yourself where she went or how far she roamed. + +Chloe took very naturally to this kind of life. At first I had to go +with her a few times and pilot her to the nearest commons, and then left +her to her own wit, which never failed her. What adventures she had, +what acquaintances she made, how far she wandered, I never knew. I never +came across her in my walks or rambles. Indeed, on several occasions I +thought I would look her up and see her feeding in the national +pastures, but I never could find her. There were plenty of cows, but +they were all strangers. But punctually, between four and five o'clock +in the afternoon, her white horns would be seen tossing above the gate +and her impatient low be heard. Sometimes, when I turned her forth in +the morning, she would pause and apparently consider which way she would +go. Should she go toward Kendall Green to-day, or follow the Tiber, or +over by the Big Spring, or out around Lincoln Hospital? She seldom +reached a conclusion till she had stretched forth her neck and blown a +blast on her trumpet that awoke the echoes in the very lantern on the +dome of the capitol. Then, after one or two licks, she would disappear +around the corner. Later in the season, when the grass was parched or +poor on the commons, and the corn and cabbage tempting in the garden, +Chloe was loth to depart in the morning, and her deliberations were +longer than ever, and very often I had to aid her in coming to a +decision. + +For two summers she was a well-spring of pleasure and profit in my farm +of one acre, when in an evil moment I resolved to part with her and try +another. In an evil moment I say, for from that time my luck in cattle +left me. Juno never forgave me the execution of that rash and cruel +resolve. + +The day is indellibly stamped on my memory when I exposed my Chloe for +sale in the public market place. It was in November, a bright, dreamy, +Indian summer day. A sadness oppressed me, not unmixed with guilt and +remorse. An old Irish woman came to the market also with her pets to +sell, a sow and five pigs, and took up a position next me. We condoled +with each other; we bewailed the fate of our darlings together; we +berated in chorus the white-aproned but bloodstained fraternity who +prowled about us. When she went away for a moment I minded the pigs, and +when I strolled about she minded my cow. How shy the innocent beast was +of those carnal market men. How she would shrink away from them. When +they put out a hand to feel her condition she would "scrooch" down her +back, or bend this way or that, as if the hand were a branding iron. So +long as I stood by her head she felt safe--deluded creature--and chewed +the cud of sweet content; but the moment I left her side she seemed +filled with apprehension, and followed me with her eyes, lowing softly +and entreatingly till I returned. + +At last the money was counted out for her, and her rope surrendered to +the hand of another. How that last look of alarm and incredulity, which +I caught as I turned for a parting glance, went to my heart! + +Her stall was soon filled, or partly filled, and this time with a +native--a specimen of what may be called the cornstalk breed of +Virginia: a slender, furtive, long-geared heifer just verging on +cowhood, that in spite of my best efforts would wear a pinched and +hungry look. She evidently inherited a humped back. It was a family +trait, and evidence of the purity of her blood. For the native blooded +cow of Virginia, from shivering over half rations of corn stalks, in the +open air, during those bleak and windy winters, and roaming over those +parched fields in summer, has come to have some marked features. For one +thing, her pedal extremities seemed lengthened; for another, her udder +does not impede her travelling; for a third, her backbone inclines +strongly to the curve; then, she despiseth hay. This last is a sure +test. Offer a thorough-bred Virginia cow hay, and she will laugh in your +face; but rattle the husks or shucks, and she knows you to be her +friend. + +The new comer even declined corn meal at first. She eyed it furtively, +then sniffed it suspiciously, but finally discovered that it bore some +relation to her native "shucks," when she fell to eagerly. + +I cherish the memory of this cow, however, as the most affectionate +brute I ever knew. Being deprived of her calf, she transferred her +affections to her master, and would fain have made a calf of him, lowing +in the most piteous and inconsolable manner when he was out of her +sight, hardly forgetting her grief long enough to eat her meal, and +entirely neglecting her beloved husks. Often in the middle of the night +she would set up that sonorous lamentation and continue it till sleep +was chased from every eye in the household. This generally had the +effect of bringing the object of her affection before her, but in a mood +anything but filial or comforting. Still, at such times a kick seemed a +comfort to her, and she would gladly have kissed the rod that was the +instrument of my midnight wrath. + +But her tender star was destined soon to a fatal eclipse. Being tied +with too long a rope on one occasion during my temporary absence, she +got her head into the meal barrel, and stopped not till she had devoured +nearly half a bushel of dry meal. The singularly placid and benevolent +look that beamed from the meal-besmeared face when I discovered her was +something to be remembered. For the first time also her spinal column +came near assuming a horizontal line. + +But the grist proved too much for her frail mill, and her demise took +place on the third day, not of course without some attempt to relieve +her on my part. I gave her, as is usual in such emergencies, everything +I "could think of" and everything my neighbors could think of, besides +some fearful prescriptions which I obtained from a German veterinary +surgeon, but to no purpose. I imagined her poor maw distended and +inflamed with the baking sodden mass which no physic could penetrate or +enliven. + +Thus ended my second venture in live stock. My third, which followed +sharp upon the heels of this disaster, was scarcely more of a success. +This time I led to the altar a buffalo cow, as they call the "mully" +down south--a large, spotted, creamy-skinned cow, with a fine udder, +that I persuaded a Jew drover to part with for ninety dollars. "Pag like +a dish rack (rag)," said he, pointing to her udder after she had been +milked. "You vill come pack and gif me the udder ten tollars" (for he +had demanded an even hundred), he continued, "after you have had her a +gouple of days." True I felt like returning to him after a "gouple of +days," but not to pay the other ten dollars. The cow proved to be as +blind as a bat, though capable of counterfeiting the act of seeing to +perfection. For did she not lift up her head and follow with her eyes a +dog that scaled the fence and ran through the other end of the lot, and +the next moment dash my hopes thus raised by trying to walk over a +locust tree thirty feet high? And when I set the bucket before her +containing her first mess of meal, she missed it by several inches, and +her nose brought up against the ground. Was it a kind of far-sightedness +and near blindness? That was it, I think; she had genius, but not +talent; she could see the man in the moon, but was quite oblivious to +the man immediately in her front. Her eyes were telescopic and required +a long range. + +As long as I kept her in the stall, or confined to the enclosure, this +strange eclipse of her sight was of little consequence. But when spring +came, and it was time for her to go forth and seek her livelihood in the +city's waste places, I was embarrassed. Into what remote corners or into +what _terra incognita_ might she not wander! There was little doubt but +she would drift around home in the course of the summer, or perhaps as +often as every week or two; but could she be trusted to find her way +back every night? Perhaps she could be taught. Perhaps her other senses +were acute enough to in a measure compensate her for her defective +vision. So I gave her lessons in the topography of the country. I led +her forth to graze for a few hours each day and led her home again. Then +I left her to come home alone, which feat she accomplished very +encouragingly. She came feeling her way along, stepping very high, but +apparently a most diligent and interested sightseer. But she was not +sure of the right house when she got to it, though she stared at it very +hard. + +Again I turned her forth, and again she came back, her telescopic eyes +apparently of some service to her. On the third day there was a fierce +thunderstorm late in the afternoon, and old buffalo did not come home. +It had evidently scattered and bewildered what little wit she had. Being +barely able to navigate those straits on a calm day, what could she be +expected to do in a tempest? + +After the storm had passed, and near sundown, I set out in quest of her, +but could get no clue. I heard that two cows had been struck by +lightning about a mile out on the commons. My conscience instantly told +me that one of them was mine. It would be a fit closing of the third act +of this pastoral drama. Thitherward I bent my steps, and there upon the +smooth plain I beheld the scorched and swollen forms of two cows slain +by thunderbolts, but neither of them had ever been mine. + +The next day I continued the search, and the next, and the next. Finally +I hoisted an umbrella over my head, for the weather had become hot, and +set out deliberately and systematically to explore every foot of open +common on Capitol hill. I tramped many miles, and found every man's cow +but my own--some twelve or fifteen hundred, I should think. I saw many +vagrant boys and Irish and colored women, nearly all of whom had seen a +buffalo cow that very day that answered exactly to my description, but +in such diverse and widely separate places that I knew it was no cow of +mine. And it was astonishing how many times I was myself deceived; how +many rumps or heads, or liver backs or white flanks I saw peeping over +knolls or from behind fences or other objects that could belong to no +cow but mine! + +Finally I gave up the search, concluded the cow had been stolen, and +advertised her, offering a reward. But days passed, and no tidings were +obtained. Hope began to burn pretty low--was indeed on the point of +going out altogether, when one afternoon, as I was strolling over the +commons (for in my walks I still hovered about the scenes of my lost +milcher), I saw the rump of a cow, over a grassy knoll, that looked +familiar. Coming nearer, the beast lifted up her head; and, behold! it +was she! only a few squares from home, where doubtless she had been most +of the time. I had overshot the mark in my search. I had ransacked the +far-off, and had neglected the near-at-hand, as we are so apt to do. But +she was ruined as a milcher, and her history thenceforward was brief and +touching! + + JOHN BURROUGHS. + + + + +LOVE'S MESSENGERS. + + + Who will tell him? Who will teach him? + Have you voices, merry birds? + Then be voice for me, and reach him + With a thousand pleading words. + Sing my secret, east and west, + Till his answer be confessed! + + Roses, when you see him coming, + Light of heart and strong of limb, + Make your lover-bees stop humming; + Turn your blushes round to him-- + Blush, dear flowers, that he may learn, + How a woman's heart can burn! + + Wind--oh, wind--you happy rover! + Oh that I were half as free-- + Leave your honey-bells and clover, + Go and seek my love for me. + Find, kiss, clasp him, make him know + It is _I_ who love him so! + + MARY AINGE DE VERE. + + + + +THE HEAD OF HERCULES. + + +One of the most curious cases that ever came under my notice in a long +course of criminal practice was not brought into any court, and, as I +believe, has never been published until now. The details of the affair +came under my personal cognizance in the following manner: + +In 1858 I went down into the Shenandoah valley to spend my summer +vacation among the innumerable Pages, Marshalls, and Cookes who all +hailed me as cousin, by right of traditional intermarriages generations +back. My first visit was to the house of McCormack Beardsley, a kinsman +and school-fellow whom I had not seen since we parted at the university +twenty years before. + +We were both gray-haired old fellows now, but I had grown thin and sharp +in the courts of Baltimore and Washington, while he had lived quietly on +his plantation, more fat and jovial and genial with every year. + +Beardsley possessed large means then, and maintained the unlimited +hospitality usual among large Virginia planters before the war. The +house was crowded during my stay with my old friends from the valley and +southern countries. His daughter, too, was not only a beauty, but a +favorite among the young people, and brought many attractive, well-bred +girls about her, and young men who were not so attractive or well bred. +Lack of occupation and a definite career had reduced the sons of too +many Virginia families at that time to cards and horses as their sole +pursuits; the war, while it left them penniless, was in one sense their +salvation. + +One evening, sitting on the verandah with Beardsley, smoking, and +looking in the open windows of the parlor, I noticed a woman who sat a +little apart, and who, as I fancied, was avoided by the younger girls. +In a Virginia country party there are always two or three unmarried +women, past their first youth, with merry blue eyes, brown hair, and +delicate features--women "with a history," but who are none the less +good dancers, riders, and able to put all their cleverness into the +making of a pie or a match for their cousins. This woman was blue-eyed +and brown-haired, but she had none of the neat, wide-awake +self-possession of her class. She had a more childish expression, and +spoke with a more timid uncertainty, than even Lotty Beardsley, who was +still in the schoolroom. I called my host's attention to her and asked +who she was. + +"It is the daughter of my cousin, General George Waring. You remember +him surely--of the Henrico branch of Warings?" + +"Certainly. But he had only one child--Louisa; and I remember receiving +an invitation to her wedding years ago." + +"Yes. This is Louisa. The wedding never took place. It's an odd story," +he said, after a pause, "and the truth is, Floyd, I brought the girl +here while you were with us in the hope that you, with your legal +acumen, could solve the mystery that surrounds her. I'll give the facts +to you to-morrow--it's impossible to do it now. But tell me, in the mean +time, how she impresses you, looking at her as a lawyer would at a +client, or a--a prisoner on trial. Do you observe anything peculiar in +her face or manner?" + +"I observed a very peculiar manner in all those about her--an effort at +cordiality in which they did not succeed; a certain constraint in look +and tone while speaking to her. I even saw it in yourself just now as +soon as you mentioned her name." + +"You did? I'm sorry for that--exceedingly sorry!" anxiously. "I believe +in Louisa Waring's innocence as I do in that of my own child; and if I +thought she was hurt or neglected in this house---- But there's a cloud +on the girl, Floyd--that's a fact. It don't amount even to suspicion. If +it did, one could argue it down. But----Well, what do you make of +her--her face now?" + +"It is not an especially clever face, nor one that indicates power of +any kind; not the face of a woman who of her own will would be the +heroine of any remarkable story. I should judge her to have been a few +years ago one of the sensible, light-hearted, sweet-tempered girls of +whom there are so many in Virginia; a nice housekeeper, and one who +would have made a tender wife and mother." + +"Well, well? Nothing more?" + +"Yes. She has not matured into womanhood as such girls do. She looks as +if her growth in every-day experiences had stopped years ago; that while +her body grew older her mind had halted, immature, incomplete. A great +grief might have had that effect, or the absorption of all her faculties +by one sudden, mastering idea." + +"You are a little too metaphysical for me," said Beardsley. "Poor Lou +isn't shrewd by any means, and always gives me the feeling that she +needs care and protection more than most women, if that is what you +mean." + +"There is a singular expression in her face at times," I resumed. + +"Ah! Now you have it!" he muttered. + +"Sitting there in your parlor, where there is certainly nothing to +dread, she has glanced behind and about her again and again, as though +she heard a sound that frightened her. I observe, too, that when any man +speaks to her she fixes on him a keen, suspicious look. She does not +have it with women. It passes quickly, but it is there. It is precisely +the expression of an insane person, or a guilty one dreading arrest." + +"You are a close observer, Floyd. I told my wife that we could not do +better than submit the whole case to your judgment. We are all Lou's +friends in the neighborhood; but we cannot look at the matter with your +legal experience and unprejudiced eyes. Come, let us go into supper +now." + +The next morning I was summoned to Beardsley's "study" (so called +probably from the total absence of either book or newspaper), and found +himself and his wife awaiting me, and also a Doctor Scheffer, whom I had +previously noticed among the guests--a gaunt, hectic young man, +apparently on the high road to death, the victim of an incurable +consumption. + +"I asked William Scheffer to meet us here," said Mr. Beardsley, "as +Louisa Waring was an inmate of his father's house at the time of the +occurrence. She and William were children and playmates together. I +believe I am right, William. You knew all the circumstances of that +terrible night?" + +The young man's heavy face changed painfully. "Yes; as much as was known +to any one but Louisa, and--the guilty man, whoever he was. But why are +you dragging out that wretched affair?" turning angrily on Mrs. +Beardsley. "Surely any friend of Miss Waring's would try to bury the +past for her!" + +"No," said the lady calmly. "It has been buried quite too long, in my +opinion; for she has carried her burden for six years. It is time now +that we should try to lift it for her. You are sitting in a draught, +William. Sit on this sofa." + +Scheffer, coughing frightfully, and complaining with all the testiness +of a long-humored invalid, was disposed of at last, and Beardsley began: + +"The story is briefly this. Louisa, before her father's death, was +engaged to be married to Colonel Paul Merrick (Merricks of Clarke +county, you know). The wedding was postponed for a year when General +Waring died, and Louisa went to her uncle's--your father, William--to +live during that time. When the year was over, every preparation was +made for the marriage: invitations were sent to all the kinsfolk on both +sides (and that included three or four counties on a rough guess), and +we--the immediate family--were assembled at Major Scheffer's preparing +for the grand event, when----" Beardsley became now excessively hot and +flurried, and getting up, thumped heavily up and down the room. + +"After all, there is nothing to tell. Why should we bring in a famous +lawyer to sit in judgment on her as if the girl were a criminal? She +only did, Floyd, what women have done since the beginning--changed her +mind without reason. Paul Merrick was as clever and lovable a young +fellow as you would find in the State, and Louisa was faithful to +him--she's faithful to him yet; but on the night before the wedding she +refused to marry him, and has persisted in the refusal ever since, +without assigning a cause." + +"Is that all of the story?" I asked. + +Beardsley was silent. + +"No," said his wife gently; "that is not all. I thought McCormack's +courage would fail before he gave you the facts. I shall try and tell +you----" + +"Only the facts, if you please, without any inferences or opinions of +others." + +The old lady paused for a moment, and then began: "A couple of days +before the wedding we went over to Major Scheffer's to help prepare for +it. You know we have no restaurateurs nor confectioners to depend upon, +and such occasions are busy seasons. The gentlemen played whist, rode +about the plantation, or tried the Major's wines, while indoors we, all +of us--married ladies and girls and a dozen old aunties--were at work +with cakes, creams, and pastry. I recollect I took over our cook, Prue, +because Lou fancied nobody could make such wine jelly as hers. Then +Lou's trousseau was a very rich one, and she wanted to try on all of her +pretty dresses, that we might see how----" + +"My dear!" interrupted Mr. Beardsley, "this really appears irrelevant to +the matter----" + +"Not at all. I wish Mr. Floyd to gain an idea of Louisa's temper and +mood at that time. The truth is, she was passionately fond of her lover, +and very happy that her marriage was so near; and being a modest little +thing, she hid her feeling under an incessant, merry chatter about +dresses and jellies. Don't you agree with me, William?" + +The sick man turned on the sofa with a laugh, which looked ghastly +enough on his haggard face. "I submit, Aunt Sophie, that it is hardly +fair to call me in as a witness in this case. I waited on Lou for two or +three years, Mr. Floyd, and she threw me over for Merrick. It is not +likely that I was an unprejudiced observer of her moods just then." + +"Nonsense, William. I knew that was but the idlest flirtation between +you, or I should not have brought you here now," said his aunt. "Well, +Mr. Floyd, the preparations all were completed on the afternoon before +the wedding. Some of the young people had gathered in the library--Paul +Merrick and his sisters and--you were there, William?" + +"Yes, I was there." + +"And they persuaded Lou to put on her wedding dress and veil to give +them a glimpse of the bride. I think it was Paul who wished it. He was a +hot, eager young fellow, and he was impatient to taste his happiness by +anticipation. It was a dull, gusty afternoon in October. I remember the +contrast she made to the gray, cold day as she came in, shy and +blushing, and her eyes sparkling, in her haze of white, and stood in +front of the window. She was so lovely and pure that we were all silent. +It seemed as if she belonged then to her lover alone, and none of us had +a right to utter a word. He went up to her, but no one heard what he +said, and then took her by the hand and led her reverently to the door. +Presently I met her coming out of her chamber in a cloak and hat. Her +maid Abby was inside, folding the white dress and veil. 'I am going down +to Aunty Huldah's,' Lou said to me. 'I promised her to come again before +I was married and tell her the arrangements all over once more.' Huldah +was an old colored woman, Lou's nurse, who lived down on the creek bank +and had long been bedridden. I remember that I said to Louisa that the +walk would be long and lonely, and told her to call Paul to accompany +her. She hesitated a moment, and then turned to the door, saying Huldah +would probably be in one of her most funereal moods, and that she would +not have Paul troubled on the eve of his wedding day. She started, +running and looking back with a laugh, down the hill." Mrs. Beardsley +faltered and stopped. + +"Go on," said Dr. Scheffer. "The incidents which follow are all that +really affect Louisa's guilt or innocence." + +"Go on, mother," said Beardsley hastily. "Louisa's innocence is not +called in question. Remember that. Tell everything you know without +scruple." + +The old lady began again in a lower voice: "We expected an arrival that +afternoon--Houston Simms, a distant kinsman of Major Scheffer's. He was +from Kentucky--a large owner of blooded stock--and was on his way home +from New York, where his horses had just won the prizes at the fall +races. He had promised to stop for the wedding, and the carriage had +been sent to the station to meet him. The station, as you know, is five +miles up the road. By some mistake the carriage was late, and Houston +started, with his valise in his hand, to walk to the house, making a +short cut through the woods. When the carriage came back empty, and the +driver told this to us, some of the young men started down to meet the +old gentleman. It was then about four o'clock, and growing dark rapidly. +The wind, I recollect, blew sharply, and a cold rain set in. I came out +on the long porch, and walked up and down, feeling uneasy and annoyed at +Louisa's prolonged absence. Colonel Merrick, who had been looking for +her all through the house, had just learned from me where she had gone, +and was starting with umbrellas to meet her, when she came suddenly up +to us, crossing the ploughed field, not from the direction of Huldah's +cabin, but from the road. We both hurried toward her; but when she +caught sight of Colonel Merrick she stopped short, putting out her hands +with a look of terror and misery quite indescribable. 'Take me away from +him! Oh, for God's sake!' she cried. I saw she had suffered some great +shock, and taking her in my arms, led her in, motioning him to keep +back. She was so weak as to fall, but did not faint, nor lose +consciousness for a single moment. All night she lay, her eyes wandering +from side to side as in momentary expectancy of the appearance of some +one. No anodyne had any effect upon her--every nerve seemed strained to +its utmost tension. But she did not speak a word except at the sound of +Colonel Merrick's voice or step, when she would beg piteously that he +should be kept away from her. Toward morning she fell into a kind of +stupor, and when she awoke appeared to be calmer. She beckoned to me, +and asked that her uncle Scheffer and Judge Grove, her other guardian, +should be sent for. She received them standing, apparently quite grave +and composed. She asked that several other persons should be called in, +desiring, she said, to have as many witnesses as possible to what she +was about to make known. 'You all know,' she said, 'that to-morrow was +to have been my wedding day. I wish you now to bear witness that I +refuse to-day or at any future time to marry Paul Merrick, and that no +argument or persuasion will induce me to do so. And I wish,' raising her +hand, to keep silence--'I wish to say publicly that it is no fault or +ill doing of Colonel Merrick's that has driven me to this resolve. I +say this as in the sight of Almighty God.' Nobody argued, or scarcely, +indeed, spoke to her. Every one saw that she was physically a very ill +woman; and it was commonly believed that she had received some sudden +shock which had unhinged her mind. An hour afterward the searching party +came in (for the young men, not finding Houston Simms, had gone out +again to search for him). They had found his dead body concealed in the +woods by Mill's spring. You know the place. There was a pistol shot +through the head, and a leathern pocketbook, which had apparently +contained money, was found empty a few feet away. That was the end of it +all, Mr. Floyd." + +"You mean that Simms's murderer was never found?" + +"Never," said Beardsley, "though detectives were brought down from +Richmond and set on the track. Their theory--a plausible one enough +too--was that Simms had been followed from New York by men who knew the +large sum he earned from the races, and that they had robbed and +murdered him, and readily escaped through the swamps." + +"It never was my belief," said Dr. Scheffer, "that he was murdered at +all. It was hinted that he had stopped in a gambling house in New York, +and there lost whatever sum he had won at the races; and that rather +than meet his family in debt and penniless, he blew out his brains in +the first lonely place to which he came. That explanation was plain +enough." + +"What was the end of the story so far as Miss Waring was concerned?" I +asked. + +"Unfortunately, it never has had an end," said Mrs. Beardsley. "The +mystery remains. She was ill afterward; indeed, it was years before she +regained her bodily strength as before. But her mind had never been +unhinged, as Paul Merrick thought. He waited patiently, thinking that +some day her reason would return, and she would come back to him. But +Louisa Waring was perfectly sane even in the midst of her agony on that +night. From that day until now she has never by word or look given any +clue by which the reason of her refusal to marry him could be +discovered. Of course the murder and her strange conduct produced a +great excitement in this quiet neighborhood. But you can imagine all +that. I simply have given you the facts which bear on the case." + +"The first suspicion, I suppose, rested on Merrick?" I said. + +"Yes. The natural explanation of her conduct was that she had witnessed +an encounter in the woods between Simms and her lover, in which the old +man was killed. Fortunately, however, Paul Merrick had not left the +house once during the afternoon until he went out with me to meet her." + +"And then Miss Waring was selected as the guilty party?" + +No one answered for a moment. Young Scheffer lay with his arm over his +face, which had grown so worn and haggard as the story was told that I +doubted whether his affection for the girl had been the slight matter +which he chose to represent it. + +"No," said Beardsley; "she never was openly accused, nor even subjected +to any public interrogation. She came to the house in the opposite +direction from the spot where the murder took place. And there was no +rational proof that she had any cognizance of it. But there were not +wanting busybodies to suggest that she had met Simms in the woods, and +at some proffered insult from him had fired the fatal shot." + +His wife's fair old face flushed. "How can you repeat such absurdity, +McCormack?" she said. "Louisa Waring was as likely to go about armed +as--as I!" knitting vehemently at a woollen stocking she had held idly +until now. + +"I know it was absurd, my dear. But you know as well as I that though it +was but the mere breath of suspicion, it has always clung to the girl +and set her apart as it were from other women." + +"What effect did that report have on Merrick?" I asked. + +"The effect it would have on any man deserving the name," said +Beardsley. "If he loved her passionately before, she has been, I +believe, doubly dear to him since. But she has never allowed him to meet +her since that night." + +"You think her feeling is unchanged for him?" + +"I have no doubt of it," Mrs. Beardsley said. "There is nothing in Lou's +nature out of which you could make a heroine of tragedy. After the first +shock of that night was over she was just the commonplace little body +she was before, and could not help showing how fond she was of her old +lover. But she quietly refused to ever see him again." + +"Merrick went abroad three years ago," interposed her husband. "I'll let +you into a secret, Floyd. I've determined there shall be an end of this +folly. I have heard from him that he will be at home next week, and is +as firm as ever in his resolve to marry Miss Waring. I brought her here +so that she could not avoid meeting him. Now if you, Floyd, could only +manage--could look into this matter before the meeting, and set it to +rights, clear the poor child of this wretched suspicion that hangs about +her? Well, now you know why I have told you the story." + +"You have certainly a sublime faith in Mr. Floyd's skill," said Scheffer +with a disagreeable laugh. "I wish him success." He rose with +difficulty, and wrapping his shawl about him, went feebly out of the +room. + +"William is soured through his long illness," Beardsley hastened to say +apologetically. "And he cared more for Lou than I supposed. We were +wrong to bring him in this morning"; and he hurried out to help him up +the stairs. Mrs. Beardsley laid down her knitting, and glanced +cautiously about her. I saw that the vital point of her testimony had +been omitted until now. + +"I think it but right to tell you--nobody has ever heard it +before"--coming close to me, her old face quite pale. "When I undressed +Louisa that night her shoes and stockings were stained, and a long +reddish hair clung to her sleeve. _She had trodden over the bloody +ground and handled the murdered man._" + +Every professional man will understand me when I say I was glad to hear +this. Hitherto the girl's whim and the murder appeared to me two events +connected only by the accident of occurrence on the same day. Now there +was but one mystery to solve. + +Whatever success I have had in my practice has been due to my habit of +boldly basing my theories upon the known character of the parties +implicated, and not upon more palpable accidental circumstances. Left to +myself now, I speedily resolved this case into a few suppositions, +positive to me as facts. The girl had been present at the murder. She +was not naturally reticent: was instead an exceptionally confiding, +credulous woman. Her motive for silence, therefore, must have been a +force brought to bear on her at the time of the murder stronger than her +love for Merrick, and which was still existing and active. Her refusal +to meet her lover I readily interpreted to be a fear of her own +weakness--dread lest she should betray this secret to him. Might not her +refusal to marry him be caused by the same fear? some crushing disgrace +or misery which threatened her through the murder, and which she feared +to bring upon her husband? The motive I had guessed to be strong as her +love: what if it were her love? Having stepped from surmise to surmise +so far, I paused to strengthen my position by the facts. There were but +two ways in which this murder could have prevented her marriage--through +Merrick's guilt or her own. His innocence was proven; hers I did not +doubt after I had again carefully studied her face. Concealed guilt +leaves its secret signature upon the mouth and eye in lines never to be +mistaken by a man who has once learned to read them. + +Were there but these two ways? There was a third, more probable than +either--_fear_. At the first presentation of this key to the riddle the +whole case mapped itself out before me. The murderer had sealed her lips +by some threat. He was still living, and she was in daily expectation of +meeting him. She had never seen his face, but had reason to believe him +of her own class. (This supposition I based on her quick, terrified +inspection of every man's face who approached her.) Now what threat +could have been strong enough to keep a weak girl silent for years, and +to separate her from her lover on their wedding day? I knew women well +enough to say, none against herself; the threat I believed hung over +Merrick's head, and would be fulfilled if she betrayed the secret or +married him, which, with a weak, loving woman, was equivalent, as any +man would know, to betrayal. + +I cannot attempt to make the breaks in this reasoning solid ground for +my readers; it was solid ground for me. + +The next morning Beardsley met me on leaving the breakfast table. He +held a letter open in his hand, and looked annoyed and anxious. + +"Here's a note from Merrick. He sailed a week sooner than he +expected--has left New York, and will be here to-night. If I had only +put the case in your hands earlier! I had a hope that you could clear +the little girl. But it's too late. She'll take flight as soon as she +hears he is coming. Scheffer says it's a miserable, bloody muddle, and +that I was wrong to stir it up." + +"I do not agree with Dr. Scheffer," I said quietly. "I am going now to +the library. In half an hour send Miss Waring to me." + +"You have not yet been presented to her?" + +"So much the better. I wish her to regard me as a lawyer simply. State +to her as formally as you choose who I am, and that I desire to see her +on business." + +I seated myself in the library; placed pen and ink, and some +legal-looking documents, selected at random, before me. Red tape and the +formal pomp of law constitute half its force with women and men of +Louisa's calibre. I had hardly arranged myself and my materials when the +door slowly opened, and she entered. She was alarmed, yet wary. To see a +naturally hearty, merry little body subjected for years to this nervous +strain, with a tragic idea forced into a brain meant to be busied only +with dress, cookery, or babies, appeared to me a pitiful thing. + +"Miss Waring?" reducing the ordinary courtesies to a curt, grave nod. +"Be seated, if you please." I turned over my papers slowly, and then +looked up at her. I had, I saw, none of the common feminine shrewdness +to deal with; need expect no subtle devices of concealment; no clever +doublings; nothing but the sheer obstinacy which is an unintellectual +woman's one resource. I would ignore it and her--boldly assume full +possession of the ground at the first word. + +"My errand to this house, Miss Waring, is in part the investigation of a +murder in 1854, of which you were the sole witness--that of Houston +Simms----" + +I stopped. The change in her face appalled me. She had evidently not +expected so direct an attack. In fact, Beardsley told me afterward that +it was the first time the subject had been broached to her in plain +words. However, she made no reply, and I proceeded in the same formal +tone: + +"I shall place before you the facts which are in my possession, and +require your assent to such as are within your knowledge. On the +afternoon of Tuesday, October 5, 1854, Houston Simms left the Pine +Valley station, carrying a valise containing a large sum of money. +You----" + +She had been sitting on the other side of the table, looking steadily at +me. She rose now. She wore a blue morning dress, with lace ruffles and +other little fooleries in which women delight, and I remember being +shocked with the strange contrast between this frippery and the +speechless dread and misery of her face. She gained control of her voice +with difficulty. + +"Who has said that I was a witness of the murder?" she gasped. "I always +explained that I was in another part of the wood. I went to aunty +Huldah----" + +"Pray do not interrupt me, Miss Waring. I am aware that you were the +witness--the sole witness--in this matter." (She did not contradict me. +I was right in my first guess--she had been alone with the murderer.) +"On returning from your nurse's cabin you left the direct path and +followed the sound of angry voices to the gorge by Mill's spring----" + +"I did not go to play the spy. He lied when he said that," she cried +feebly. "I heard the steps, and thought Colonel Merrick had come to +search for me." + +"That matters nothing. You saw the deed done. The old man was killed, +and then robbed, in your sight"--I came toward her, and lowered my voice +to a stern, judicial whisper, while the poor girl shrank back as though +I were law itself uttering judgment upon her. If she had known what +stagy guesswork it all was! "When you were discovered, the murderer +would have shot you to insure your silence." + +"I wish he had! It was Thad who would have done that. The white man's +way was more cruel--oh, God knows it was more cruel!" + +(There were two then.) I was very sorry for the girl, but I had a keen +pleasure in the slow unfolding of the secret, just as I suppose the +physician takes delight in the study of a new disease, even if it kills +the patient. + +"Yes," I said with emphasis. "I believe that it would have been less +suffering for you, Miss Waring, to have died then than to have lived, +forced as you were to renounce your lover, and to carry about with you +the dread of the threat made by those men." + +"I have not said there was a threat made. I have betrayed nothing." She +had seated herself some time before by the table. There was a large +bronze inkstand before her, and as she listened she arranged a half +dozen pens evenly on the rest. The words she heard and spoke mattered +more to her than life or death; her features were livid as those of a +corpse, yet her hands went on with their mechanical work--one pen did +not project a hair's breadth beyond the other. We lawyers know how +common such puerile, commonplace actions are in the supreme moments of +life, and how seldom men wring their hands, or use tragic gesture, or +indeed words. + +"No, you have betrayed nothing," I said calmly. "Your self-control has +been remarkable, even when we remember that you believed your confession +would be followed by speedy vengeance, not on your head, but Colonel +Merrick's." + +She looked up not able to speak for a minute. "You--you know all?" + +"Not all, but enough to assure you that your time of suffering is over. +You can speak freely, unharmed." + +Her head dropped on the table. She was crying, and, I think, praying. + +"You saw Houston Simms killed by two men, one of whom, the negro Thad, +you knew. The white man's face was covered. You did not recognize him. +But he knew you, and the surest way to compel you to silence. I wish you +now to state to me all the details of this man's appearance, voice, and +manner, to show me any letters which you have received from him since" +(a random guess, which I saw hit the mark)--"in short, every +circumstance which you can recall about him." + +She did not reply. + +"My dear Miss Waring, you need have no fear on Colonel Merrick's +account. The law has taken this matter out of your hands. Colonel +Merrick is protected by the law." + +"Oh! I did not understand," meekly. + +To be brief, she told me the whole story. When she reached the spring +she had found the old man bleeding and still breathing. He died in her +arms. The men, who had gone back into the laurel to open the valise, +came back upon her. The negro was a desperate character, well known in +the county. He had died two years later. The other man was masked and +thoroughly disguised. He had stopped the negro when he would have killed +her, and after a few minutes' consultation had whispered to him the +terms upon which she was allowed to escape. + +"You did not hear the white man's voice?" + +"Not once." + +"Bring me the letters you have received from him." + +She brought two miserably spelled and written scrawls on soiled bits of +paper. It was the writing of an educated man, poorly disguised. He +threatened to meet her speedily, warned her that he had spies constantly +about her. + +"That is all the evidence you can give me?" + +"All." She rose to go. I held the door open for her, when she hesitated. + +"There was something more--a mere trifle." + +"Yes. But most likely the one thing that I want." + +"I returned to the spring again and again for months afterward. People +thought I was mad. I may have been; but I found there one day a bit of +reddish glass with a curious mark on it." + +"You have it here?" + +She brought it to me. It was a fragment of engraved sardonyx, apparently +part of a seal; the upper part of a head was cut upon it; the short +hairs curving forward on the low forehead showed that the head was that +of Hercules. + +Some old recollection rose in my brain, beginning, as I may say, to +gnaw uncertainly. I went to my room for a few minutes to collect myself, +and then sought Beardsley. + +He was pacing up and down the walk to the stables, agitated as though he +had been the murderer. + +"Well, Floyd, well! What chance is there? What have you discovered?" + +"Everything. One moment. I have a question or two to ask you. About ten +years ago you commissioned me to buy for you in New York a seal--an +intaglio of great value--a head of Hercules, as I remember. What did you +do with it?" + +"Gave it to Job Scheffer, William's father. Will has it now, though I +think it is broken." + +"Very well. What have Dr. Scheffer's habits been, by the way? Was he as +fond of turning the cards as the other young fellows?" + +"Oh, yes, poor boy! There was a rumor some years ago that he was +frightfully involved in Baltimore--that it would ruin the old man, in +fact, to clear off his debts of honor. But it died out. I suppose +William found some way of straightening them out." + +"Probably. Where is Dr. Scheffer now? I have a message for him." + +"In his room. But this matter of Louisa Waring----" + +"Presently. Have patience." + +I went up to the young man's room. After all, the poor wretch was dying, +and to compel him to blast his own honorable name seemed but brutal +cruelty. I had to remember the poor girl's wasted face and hopeless eyes +before I could summon courage to open the door after I had knocked. I +think he expected me, and knew all that I had to say. A man in health +would soon have known that I was acting on surmise, and defied me to the +proof. Scheffer, I fancied, had been creeping through life for years +with death in two shapes pursuing him, step by step. He yielded, cowed +submissive at the first touch, and only pleaded feebly for mercy. + +The negro had been his body servant--knew his desperate straits, and +dragged him into the crime. Then, he had loved Louisa: he was maddened +by her approaching marriage. The scheme of ensuring her silence and +driving Merrick away was the inspiration of a moment, and had succeeded. +He only asked for mercy. His time was short. He could not live beyond a +few weeks. I would not bring him to the gallows. + +I was merciful, and I think was right to be so. His deposition was taken +before his uncle, Mr. Beardsley, who was a magistrate, and two other men +of position and weight in the community. It was to be kept secret until +after his death, and then made public. He was removed at once to his +father's house. + +On Colonel Merrick's arrival that evening, this deposition was formally +read to him. I do not think it impressed him very much. He was resolved +to marry Miss Waring in spite of every obstacle. + +"But I never would have married you unless the truth had been +discovered--never," she said to him that evening as they stood near me +in the drawing-room. Her cheeks were warm, and her dark eyes full of +tender light. I thought her a very lovely woman. + +"Then I owe you to Mr. Floyd after all?" he said, looking down at her +fondly. + +"Oh, I suppose so," with a shrug. "But he is a very disagreeable person! +Cast-iron, you know. I am so thankful _you_ are not a lawyer, Paul." + + JAMES M. FLOYD. + + + + +ROMANCE. + + + I would I were mighty, victorious, + A monarch of steel and of gold-- + I would I were one of the glorious + Divinities hallowed of old-- + A god of the ancient sweet fashion + Who mingled with women and men, + A deity human in passion, + Transhuman in strength and in ken. + + For then I could render the pleasure + I win from the sight of your face; + For then I could utter my treasure + Of homage and thanks for your grace; + I could dower, illumine, and gladden, + Could rescue from perils and tears, + And my speech could vibrate and madden + With eloquence worthy your ears. + + You meet me: you smile and speak kindly; + One minute I marvel and gaze, + Idolatrous, worshipping blindly, + Yet mindful of decorous ways. + You pass; and the glory is ended, + Though lustres and sconces may glow: + The goddess who made the scene splendid + Has vanished; and darkly I go. + + You know not how swiftly you mounted + The throne in the depths of my eyes; + You care not how meekly I counted + Those moments for pearls of the skies; + Or, knowing it, all is forgotten + The moment I pass from your sight-- + Consigned to the fancies begotten + Of chaos and slumber and night. + + But I--I remember your glances, + Your carelessest gesture and word, + And out of them fashion romances + Man never yet uttered nor heard; + Romances too splendid for mortals, + Too sweet for a planet of dole; + Romances which open the portals + Of Eden, and welcome my soul. + + J. W. DEFOREST. + + + + +BEER. + + +Poets, in every age since the time of Anacreon, have sung odes in praise +of wine. The greatest bards of every clime have sought inspiration in +its sparkling depths. But the poet, even German, is yet unborn, who, +moved by sweet memories of the nectar of his fatherland, shall chant in +rhyme the virtues of his national drink. Yet though its merit has +inspired neither of the sister graces, poetry and song, to strike the +lyre in its honor, it has had, none the less, an important mission to +perform. To its plebeian sister beer, as a healthful beverage, wine must +yield the palm. As a common drink, suited to human nature's daily need, +it has never been surpassed. If it has nerved no hand to deeds of +daring, or struck the scintillating sparks of genius from the human +brain, it has added immensely to the health, long life, and happiness of +many nations, and is destined to still greater triumphs, as life becomes +studied more from a hygienic standpoint. + +Beer is believed to have been invented by the Egyptians, and is of +almost universal use; the zone of the cereals being more extended than +that of the grape. Greek writers before Christ mention a drink composed +of barley, under the name of _zythos_. This beverage was not unknown to +the Romans, and we find it first mentioned by the historian Tacitus. By +the nations of the West it was regarded as a nourishing drink for poor +people. They prepared it from honey and wheat. Among the ancient Germans +and Scandinavians, however, beer was in former times the national +beverage, and was prepared from barley, wheat, or oats, with the +addition of oak bark, and later of hops. + +The ancients put bitter herbs in beer, and the present use of hops is in +imitation. Modern beer was born at the time of Charlemagne, an epoch at +which hops were first cultivated. The earliest writing in which one +finds mention of hops as an aroma to beer is in a parchment of St. +Hildegarde, abbess of the convent of St. Rupert, at Bingen on the Rhine. +The art of fabricating beer remained for a long time a privilege of +convents. The priests drank Pater's beer, while the lighter or convent +beer was used by the laity. Although beer has been manufactured of all +the cereals, barley only can be called its true and legitimate father. + +Bavaria and Franconia were already in the fourteenth century celebrated +for their excellent beer, and the German cities, of which each one soon +had its own brewery, vied with their predecessors. In the fifteenth and +sixteenth centuries the Upper and Lower Saxony breweries became well +known. The Braunschweiger, Einbeker, Göttinger, Bremer, and Hamburger +beer, as well as the breweries of the cities of Würzen, Zwickau, Torgau, +Merseburg, and Goslar, were far and wide celebrated. Bavarian beer has +long made the tour of the world. Bock beer from Bavaria and from the +Erzgebirge is exported to Java and China. + +German lager beer, as a healthy and lightly stimulating beverage, is +welcome in both hot and cold countries. It is liked as well by the +Russians and Scandinavians as by the inhabitants of the tropics. It is +brewed by Germans in all parts of the globe--in Valenciennes, Antwerp, +Madrid, Constantinople, and even in Australia, Chili, and Brazil. + +The English commenced later than the Germans to make beer. In 1524, +however, they not only brewed beer, but used hops in its fabrication. + +The Greek and Latin races, which drank wine, had but little taste for +beer, which divided them from the Germanic races as a sharp boundary. +Beer and wine seem to have had an influence in forming the temperament +of these widely differing races. While wine excites the nervous system, +beer tranquillizes and calms it. The action of a particular kind of +daily drink, used for centuries, must in this respect have been more or +less potent. Hence, perhaps, the Teuton's phlegm and the Gaul's +excitability. + +There may be said to be three principal types of beer--the Bavarian, +Belgian, and English. The Bavarian is obtained by the infusion or +decoction of sprouted barley; then by the fermentation of deposit, in +tubs painted internally with resin. The varieties most appreciated are +the Bock and Salvator beers. The beers of Belgium have the special +character of being prepared by spontaneous fermentation, and the process +is therefore slow. The principal varieties are the Lambick, the Faro, +the March beer, and the Uytzd. In the English beer the must is prepared +by simple infusion and the fermentation is superficial. On account of +its great alcoholic richness it is easily conserved. The ale, the +porter, and the stout are the chief varieties of English beer, which +differ among themselves only by the diverse proportion of their +ingredients and the different degrees of torrefaction of the barley, +rendering it more or less brown. In France only the superficial method +of fermentation is employed. In a litre of Strasburg beer one finds 5 +1-4 grammes of albumen, 45 grammes of alcohol, and .091 of salts. The +ordinary Bavarian beer contains three per cent. of alcohol and six and a +half per cent. of nourishing extracts. The beers the most sticky to the +touch are the heaviest in volume and the most nutritious. It is +historical that in very olden days the Munich city fathers tried the +goodness of the beer by pouring it out on a bench and then sitting down +in their leather inexpressibles, and approved of it only when they +remained glued to the seat. + +In Nuremberg there is a school of brewers, where one may learn all the +mysteries of beer brewing. Certain breweries, however, pretend to +possess secrets pertaining to the art known exclusively to them. For +example, one family near Leipsic is said to have possessed for a century +the secret which chemistry has tried in vain to discover, of making the +famous Gose beer. + +"Good beer," says Dr. Paolo Mantegazza, a celebrated Italian writer on +medicine, "is certainly one of the most healthy of alcoholic drinks. The +bitter tonic, the richness of the alimentary principle which it +contains, and its digestibility make it a real liquid food, which, for +many temperaments, is medicine. The English beer, which is stronger in +spirit than some wines, never produces on the stomach that union of +irritating phenomena vulgarly called heat, and for this reason beer is +often tolerated by the most weak and irritable persons, and can be drunk +with advantage in grave diseases."[A] Laveran, a French physician, +counsels it for consumptives, and for nervous thin people in the most +diverse climates. + +In the intoxication by beer there is always more or less stupidity. Beer +is by no means favorable to _l'esprit_. It is doubtful if it has ever +inspired the great poets or the profound thinkers who make Germany, in +science, the leading country in Europe. Reich, Voigt, and many great +writers have launched their anathemas against it. As a stimulant beer is +less potent than wine or tea and coffee. The forces of soldiers have +never been sustained on a fatiguing march, nor can they be incited to a +battle, by plentiful libations of beer. During the late French-Prussian +war nearly every provision train which left Bavaria carried supplies of +beer to the Bavarian troops. It was found very favorable for the +convalescent soldiers in the hospitals, but inferior to coffee or wine +as a stimulant on the eve of battle. + +The old chroniclers of Bavaria relate this curious tale of the origin of +the celebrated bock beer. There was one day in olden times at the table +of the Duke of Bavaria, as guest, a Brunswick nobleman. Now there had +long prevailed at the court the custom of presenting to noble guests, +after the meal, a beaker of the Bavarian barley juice, not without a +warning as to its strength. The Brunswicker received the usual cup, +emptied it at a draught, and pronounced it excellent. "But," he +continued, "such barley juice as we brew at home in Brunswick is +equalled by no other. Our Mumme is the king of beers, so that the +bravest drinker cannot take two beakers of it without sinking under the +table." The duke listened with displeasure to the haughty words of the +knight, for he was not a little proud of the brewings of his country, +and commanded his cup-bearer, with a meaning look, to challenge him. + +"By your leave, Sir Knight," replied the page, "what you say is not +quite true. If it pleases you and my lord Duke, I should like to lay a +wager with you." + +The duke nodded assent, and the knight, smiling scornfully, challenged +the cup-bearer to pledge him. + +"Your Brunswick Mumme," continued the page, "may pass as a refreshing +drink; but with our beer you cannot compare it, for the best of our +brewings is unknown to you. In case, however, you please again to make +your appearance at the hospitable court of my gracious lord, I will +promise you a beaker of beer which cannot be equalled in any other +country of united Christendom. I will drink the greatest bumper that can +be found in our court of your Mumme at one draught, if you can take of +our beer, even slowly, three beakers. He who a half hour afterward can +stand on one leg and thread a needle shall win the wager, and receive +from the other a mighty cask of Tokayer Rebensafte." + +This speech received loud applause, and the Brunswicker laughingly +accepted the challenge. + +After the knight had departed the duke tapped the page on the shoulder +and said, "Take care that thou dost not repent thy word, and that the +Brunswicker does not win the wager." + +The first morning in May the Brunswicker rode into the castle and was +welcomed by the duke. All eyes were turned on the cup-bearer, who +shortly afterward appeared with a suite of pages carrying on a bier two +little casks, one bearing the Bavarian arms and the other those of +Brunswick. The right to give to the contents of the former a particular +name was reserved to the duke. The page produced likewise a monstrous +silver bumper and three beakers of the ordinary size. It was long before +the bumper was filled to the rim, and then it required two men to raise +it to the table. In the mean time another page placed the three beakers +before the knight, who could not suppress a sarcastic laugh at the huge +bumper which the page, taking in his strong arms, placed to his lips. As +the knight emptied the last beaker the cup-bearer turned down the +bumper. Two needles and a bundle of silk lay on the table. It wanted a +few moments of the half hour, and the Brunswicker ran toward the garden +for fresh air. Hardly arrived in the court, a peculiar swimming of the +head seized him, so that he fell to the ground. A servant saw him from +the window, and hastened out, followed by the court, with the duke in +advance. There lay the Brunswicker, and tried in vain to rise. + +"By all the saints, Herr Ritter, what has thrown you in the sand?" +inquired the duke sympathetically. + +"The bock, the bock" (the goat, the goat), murmured the knight with a +heavy tongue. + +A burst of sarcastic laughter echoed in the courtyard. In the mean time +the page stood on one foot, and without swaying threaded the needle. + +"The bock, the bock," repeated the duke smiling. "Our beer is no longer +without a name. It shall be called bock, that one may take care." + +The bock season lasts about six weeks, from May into June. Just before +it commences a transparency of a goat, drinking from a tall, slender +glass, is placed as a sign before certain beer locals, called in Munich +dialect bock stalls, not because goats are kept there, but because +wonderful beer, called bock, is dispensed. + +He who has not lived in Bavaria can have no idea of what importance beer +is in Bavarian life. There are in Munich Germans who exist only for +beer, and there have been pointed out to me old gentlemen who have +frequented daily the same local for twenty-five or thirty years, and +even occupied the same seat, and pounded the same table, by way of +enforcing their views, in discussing the politics of the day. They are +called _Stammgäste_ (literally stock guests), and are much honored in +their respective locals. + +The greatest personages do not disdain the meanest locals, provided the +beer is good and to their taste. Naked pine tables do not disgust them, +nor the hardest benches. Often on the table skins of radishes, crusts of +bread, cigar stumps, tobacco ashes, herring heads, and cheese rinds form +a fragrant _mélange_. The inheritors of this precious legacy push it +away without undue irritability. Radishes are carried about by old women +called _radi-weibers_, who do a thriving business besides in nuts and +herrings. One cannot find in any other country of the world radishes of +such size, tenderness, and flavor--a brown variety inherited by the +happy Müncheners with their breweries. Nowhere else does cutting and +salting them rank as an art. To prepare one scientifically they pare it +carefully, slit it in three slices nearly to the end, place salt on the +top, and draw the finger over it, as if it were a pack of cards. The +salt falls between the slices, and when they are pressed together +becomes absorbed. + +In a German _Bier Local_ are represented all classes of society. Beer is +the great leveller of social distinctions. The foaming glass of King +Gambrinus unites all Germans of all states, climates, and professions +in a closer brotherhood than the sceptre of the Hohenzollerns, and links +that portion of the Teutonic race over which the stars and stripes +throws its protecting folds to the dear fatherland. + +Fine wines are a perquisite of money. The fortunate aristocrat and the +house of Israel, which everywhere waxes fat on the needs of travellers, +may sip their champagne, their Lachrymæ Christi, and their Hockheimer, +while less favored humanity contents itself with sour _vin ordinaire_; +but beer is the same for all, and in some breweries each one must search +for a glass, rinse it, and present himself in his turn at the shank +window, to which there is no royal road. "La bière," which a great +writer calls "ce vin de la réforme," is essentially a democratic drink. +It became popular at a time when a fatal blow had been struck at class +privileges and priestly exclusiveness. + +Manfully does a true-hearted Bavarian stand by his brewery, in ill as +well as good report. If the beer turns out badly, he does not find it a +sufficient reason to desert his local for some other, but rather remains +with touching devotion, and anticipates the approaching end of the old +beer and the advent of new, with implicit trust and confidence in the +future. Some years ago the Bavarian post and railway conductors +distinguished themselves by the mournful zeal with which they notified +to the passengers the nearing of the frontier. At each station they were +sorrowfully communicative. + +"The last Bairischer[B] but four, gentlemen! Gentlemen, there are only +two more real Bairischers! Gentlemen," with tears in the voice, "the +last Bairischer." + +The passengers rushed to the buffet and drank. + +Even now, with that curious affection with which every Bavarian's heart +turns to his Mecca of beer, the salutation to a stranger is, "Are you +going to Munich? _Da werden sie gutes Bier trinken._"[C] + +"You came from Munich! _Ach!_ _da haben sie gutes Bier getrunken._"[D] + +Even in Beerland there are different kinds of beer, like the federal +union, one in many and many in one. Between them are sometimes +irreconcilable differences, as for example, between the white and +Actiens beer of Berlin. The former is made of wheat, and is exclusively +a summer beverage, and a glass of it is fondly termed a "kleine Weisse" +(a little white one), perhaps in irony, for it is served in excentric +mammoth tumblers, which require both hands to lift. + +Then there is the Vienna beer, the antipodes of the Bavarian. The latter +must be drunk soon after it is made, while the former must lie many +months in the cellar before it is ready for use. In Austria, that +forcible union of States of clashing interests and nationalities, which +is not a nation, but only a government reposing on bayonets, the +population is divided between the partisans of King Gambrinus and those +of Bacchus. + +As little as an artist could maintain that he was familiar with the +works of the great masters when he had not visited Italy, so little +could a beer drinker assert that he had seen beer rightly drunk when he +had not been in Munich. All over the world beer is regarded as a +refreshment, but in Munich it is the elixir of life, the fabled fountain +of youth and happiness. It is looked upon as nourishment by the lower +classes, who drink for dinner two _masses_[E] of it, with soup and black +bread. For the price of the beer they could procure a good portion of +meat, but they universally maintain that they are best nourished with +beer and bread. + +The Bavarian drinks to satisfy his "thirst, that beautiful German gift +of God." If he is healthy, he drinks because it keeps his life juices in +their normal state; if he is sick and in pain, because it is a soothing +and harmless narcotic; if he is hungry, because beer is nourishment; if +he has already eaten, because beer promotes digestion; if he is warm, +because it is cooling and refreshing; if he is cold, because it warms +him; if he is fatigued, because it is a tonic and sovereign strength +renewer; if he is angry, because beer soothes him and gives him time to +consider; if he needs courage, because beer is precisely the right +stimulant. Where the Americans fly to their bitters "to tone up the +system and enliven the secretions," the Germans resort to beer; and many +are of opinion that frequent trips to the bock stalls in the spring are +more healing than a visit to Carlsbad or Baden Baden, where one drinks +disgusting water. In all circumstances and all moods they drink and are +comforted. + +The Jews believed that the sacred waves of the Jordan were powerful to +wash away all human suffering, either of the soul or body. Faith was +necessary to this pious healing. To the Münchener beer is the river of +health. His faith in it dates from his earliest infancy, and he resorts +to its beneficent influence at least seven times a day, and drinks his +last _Krügl_ with apparently the same relish as the first. The quantity +which Germans drink is something incredible. Bavarian students usually +take from five to seven masses per day. (At the German Jesuit seminary +in Prague the novices are allowed daily seven, the clericos ten, and the +priests twelve pints of beer.) + +Beer is considered good not only for men, but for women, for girls and +boys, and even unweaned infants. + +"Mein Krügl" the Münchener speaks of as of his natural and human rights. +He was born with a right to his beer, and his _Krügl_, as "man is born +with a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," and +equally with these the State must look after this right. The krügls, or +beer mugs, of each brewery are inspected by the police, to see if the +measure is correct, and if the ware has no poisonous lead in its +composition. The royal K is stamped on them by the King's authority. The +police also examine the contents of the beer with the same zeal as the +water or the condition of the sewers. + +The Germans as a nation are patient of wrong and peace-loving, but the +rumor of a tax on beer raises a frightful commotion, and a riot is often +the consequence. As well tax air, water, and fire as beer, the fifth +element. + +In an ancient neighborhood of Munich, behind the post, and best entered +from Maximilian street, is a little square remarkable for its ugliness. +All the houses are old, and one feels upon entering it as if one had +suddenly walked back into the middle ages. On the east side stands a +time-gray, low, irregular building, resembling in architecture, or by +its want of it, nothing of the present age. This is the royal Hof +Brauerei. After 10 A. M. a constant stream of thirsty souls flows along +the streets and narrow alleys leading toward its dismal-looking portals. +Its beer is celebrated as being the finest in the world, and is the +standard by which all other beers are judged. It is the poetry of beer; +it is to all other brewings what Shakespeare is to the drama; what the +Coliseum is to other antiquities. None of the beer is exported or sold; +it is all drunk on the spot, and when it gives out no other brewery can +supply a drop comparable with it. The Parisians, who have heaped every +luxury, from the poles to the tropics, in their capital of the world, +have not enough money in the Bank of France to purchase a cask of it. It +is said that Maximilian II. resolved that the best beer in the world +should be made at the royal brewery in Munich. It has never been +expected that it would yield any revenue, but merely pay its expenses. +It is now under the protection of the present King, and the ingredients +are inspected by an officer of the royal household. + +For its dirt, its darkness, and its utter want of service, the Hof +Brauerei is unequalled in the world, and nowhere else can be found such +a mixed society. Entering the low-vaulted room, each one looks anxiously +about for an empty mug. These are of gray stone, containing a mass, the +price of which is seven and a half kreutzers. Spying one, he hastens to +secure it from other competitors. The first who reaches it carries it +off in triumph to the spring in the anteroom, rinses it, and presents +himself behind a queue of predecessors at the shank window, where +several pairs of hands are occupied all day long in filling mugs from +the great casks within. This accomplished, he returns to the guest room +and searches for a seat. If found, it is certainly not luxurious--a +wooden bench of pine, stained by time and continual use to a dark dirt +color, behind an ancient table. The walls and ceiling are grim with age, +and the atmosphere hazy with smoke. The scene baffles description. All +classes of society are represented. Side by side with the noble or +learned professor, one sees the poorest artisan and the common soldier. +Here and there the picturesque face of an artist is in close proximity +to a peasant, and through the smoky atmosphere one catches the gleam of +the scarlet or sky-blue cap of a German student, or the glitter of an +epaulette. The Catholic of the most ultramontane stamp is there, as well +as the Jew, the Protestant, and the freethinker. Here stands a pilgrim +from far America, armed with a Bädeker, and there an Englishman with the +inevitable Murray under his arm, too amazed or disdainful to search for +a mass. Remarkable also are the steady habitués of the place, with +Albert Dürer-like features which look as if hastily hewn out of ancient +wood with two or three blows of a hatchet, or with smoke-dried +physiognomies having a tint like that of a meerschaum pipe, acquired by +years of exposure to the thick atmosphere of smoky breweries. They are +there morning, noon, and night, year in and year out. Some talk over +the news of the day, but most sit in silence. Not a few make a meal with +bread and radishes, or a sausage brought from the nearest pork shop. + +In Munich a singular and ancient custom prevails. If by chance the cover +of a mug is left up, any individual who chooses may seize it, and drink +the contents. At the Hof Brauerei I once saw a newly arrived Englishman, +carrying the usual red guidebook, quit the room for an instant, leaving +uncovered his just acquired mass of beer. There came along a +seedy-looking old gentleman, evidently a _Stammgast_. A gleam of +satisfaction stole over his wooden features as he espied the open mug. +Pausing a moment, he lifted it to his lips and slowly drank the +contents. Setting it down empty, with a face mildly radiating +satisfaction, he went his way. Presently the owner of the beer returned, +took his seat, and lifted the mass, without looking, to his lips. With +intense astonishment he put it down again, appeared not to believe the +evidence of his senses, applied his glass to his eye, looked with +anxiety into his mug, and became satisfied of its emptiness. At his +neighbors he cast a quick glance of indignant suspicion--the look of a +Briton whose rights were invaded. No one even looked up; apparently the +occasion was too common to excite attention. Gradually his face regained +its composure. He procured a new supply, and as the wonderful barley +juice disappeared became again calm and happy. Miraculous mixture! Who +would not, under thy benign influence, forget all rancor and bitterness, +even though his deadliest enemy sat opposite? + +In the Haupt und Residenz Stadt München, as Munich is always called in +official documents, many of the breweries bear the names of orders of +monks, because there the friars in olden days made particularly good +beer. The breweries borrowed from them the receipt and the name. Hence +the brewery to the Augustiner, to the Dominikaner, to the Franciskaner, +and the Salvator. + +New beer is in all cities of America and Europe a simple fact. In Munich +it is an important public and private family event, concerning each +house as well as the entire city. + +The opening of the Salvator brewery in the suburbs of Munich, for its +brief season of a month in the spring, assumes for the inhabitants the +importance of a long anticipated holiday. Thither an eager crowd of +townspeople make pilgrimage. I was present on one of these auspicious +occasions, and found a joyous multitude of more than two thousand +persons, filling to overflowing the capacious building gayly trimmed +with evergreens interspersed with the national colors. A band discoursed +excellent music, that necessary element, without which no German scene +is complete. The waiters, more than usually adroit in supplying the +wants of the crowd, carried in their hands fourteen glasses at a time +with professional dexterity. The peculiar delicacy of the occasion, +aside from the beer, seemed to be cheese, plentifully sprinkled with +black pepper. + +Late in the evening the people became more excited and sympathetic, and +then it was proposed to sing "Herr Fisher," a popular German song of the +people. A verse was sung by a few voices as a solo; then followed a +mighty chorus from all the persons present. Each one raised the cover of +his beer mug at the commencement, and let it fall with a clang at the +close of the chorus, with startling effect. + +In Munich one-half of the inhabitants appear to be engaged in the +fabrication of beer and the entire population in drinking it. It +impresses one as being the only industry there. The enormous brewery +wagons, drawn by five Norman horses, are ever to be seen. On the trains +going from the city there is ordinarily a beer car painted in festive +white. It bears an inscription, that none may mistake its contents, and +perhaps that the peasants may bless it as it passes. It is looked upon +with as much reverence as if it bore the ark of the covenant. + +All over Germany, among the most ordinary of birthday or holiday +presents are the elegantly painted porcelain tops for beer glasses. The +works of great masters may be found copied in exquisite style for this +purpose, as well as illustrations suited to uncultivated tastes. To +these pictures there are appropriate mottoes, and often a verse adapted +to the comprehension of the most uneducated peasant. A favorite among +the Bavarians, judging from the frequency with which it is met with in +all parts of Bavaria, represents a peasant in a balcony waving her +kerchief to her lover, departing in a little skiff, on an intensely blue +sea. Beneath, in patois, is the doggerel: + + Beautifully blue is the sea, + But my heart aches in me, + And my heart will never recover + Till returns my peasant lover. + +Equally a favorite is the following: + + A rifle to shoot, + And a fighting ring to hit, + And a maiden to kiss, + Must a lively boy have. + +The rings to which the rhyme refers are of huge size, of silver, with a +sharp-edged square of the same metal. They are heirlooms among the +peasants, and are worn on the middle finger. It is the custom in a +quarrel to hit one's adversary with the _Stozzring_ on the cheek, which +it tears open. + +In Germany many of the great breweries have summer gardens in the +suburbs of the cities. In Berlin there are magnificent _Biergärten_, +where the two most necessary elements of German existence, beer and +music, are united. I need only refer to the Hof Jäger, with its flowers, +fountains, miniature lake, and open-air theatre, where popular comedies +are performed. Three times per week there is an afternoon concert by +one or two regiment bands. Thither the Germans conduct their families. +In the winter there are concert rooms in the cities, where "music is +married," not "to immortal verse," but to beer; and these classical +concerts are patronized by people of high respectability. + +Beer is peculiarly suited to the American temperament, too nervous and +sensitive. It is certain that the human race always has, and probably +always will, resort to beverages more or less stimulating. The preaching +of moralists and the efforts of legislators will not exclude them +permanently from our use. It is not in the use but in the abuse of these +that the difficulty lies. Neither tea nor coffee answers for all +temperaments and all occasions as nervous aliments. The extraordinary +and increasing diffusion of liquors is one of the social ulcers of +modern society, particularly in America. It is unfortunately true that +the use of strong alcoholics is increasing every day, to the great +detriment of public health and morals. Taken merely to kill time, they +often end by killing the individual. + +One of the great advantages of beer, too much forgotten even by +physicians, is that it reverses the influence of alcohol, by which it +loses its irritating properties on the mucous membrane of the stomach. +The celebrated Dr. Bock (late professor of pathological anatomy in the +university at Leipsic) says, "Beer exercises on the digestion, on the +circulation, on the nerves, and above all on the whole system, a +beneficial effect."[F] + +It would be well if Americans would adopt it instead of the innumerable +harmful beverages which ruin the health and poison the peace of society. + + S. G. YOUNG. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: "Quadri della Natura Umana."] + +[Footnote B: The local term in Bavaria for a glass of beer.] + +[Footnote C: There you will drink good beer.] + +[Footnote D: There you drank good beer.] + +[Footnote E: A _mass_ equals fifteen-sixteenths of a quart.] + +[Footnote F: "Buch vom gesunden und kranken Menschen" (9th edition).] + + + + +ON READING SHAKESPEARE. + +PLAYS OF THE THIRD PERIOD. + + +We have followed Shakespeare's course of dramatic production down to the +time when he began to embody in the work by which he earned his bread +and made his fortune the results of an intuitive knowledge of human +nature and a profound reflection upon it never surpassed, if ever +equalled, and which, even if possessed, have never been united in any +other man with a power of expression so grand, so direct, so strong, and +so subtle. "Twelfth Night," "Henry V.," and "As You Like It" mark the +close of his second period, which ended with the sixteenth century. His +third period opens with "Hamlet," which was written about the year 1600. +But here I will say that the division of his work into periods, and the +assignment of his plays to certain years, is only inferential and +approximative. We are able to determine with an approach to certainty +about what time most of his plays were written; but we cannot fix their +date exactly. Nor is it of very great importance that we should do so. +There are some people who can fret themselves and others as to whether a +play was written in 1600 or in 1601, as there are others who deem the +question whether its author was born on the 23d of April in one year, +and died on the same day of the same month in another, one of great +importance. I cannot so regard it. A few days in the date of a man's +birth or death, a few months in the production of a play--these are +matters surely of very little moment. What is important to the student +and lover of Shakespeare is the order of the production of his works; +and this, fortunately, is determinable with a sufficient approach to +accuracy to enable us to know about at what age he was engaged upon +them, and what changes in his style and in his views of life they +indicate. + +In the first ten years of the seventeenth century, between his +thirty-seventh and forty-seventh year, he produced "Hamlet," "Measure +for Measure," his part of "Pericles," "All's Well that Ends Well," "King +Lear," "Macbeth," "Julius Cæsar," "Antony and Cleopatra," "Troilus and +Cressida," "Cymbeline," "Coriolanus," and "Othello." These, with other +works, were the fruit of his mind in its full maturity and vigor. Think +of it a moment! what a period it was! As my eye lights upon the back of +the eleventh volume of my own edition and the eighth of the Cambridge +edition, and I read "HAMLET, KING LEAR, OTHELLO," I am moved with a +sense of admiration and wonder which, if I allow it to continue, becomes +almost oppressive; and I also take pleasure in the result of a +convenience of arrangement that brought into one volume these three +marvellous works--the three greatest productions of man's imagination, +each wholly unlike the others in spirit and in motive. + +Although they were not written one after the other, but with an interval +of about five years between them, it would be well to read them +consecutively and in the order above named, which is that in which they +happen to be printed in the first collected edition (1623) of +Shakespeare's plays. They were written--"Hamlet" in 1600-2, "King Lear" +in 1605, and "Othello" about 1610, its date being much more uncertain +than that of either of the others. The thoughtful reader who, having +followed the course previously marked out, now comes to the study of +these tragedies, is prepared to apprehend them justly, not only in their +own greatness, but in their relative position as the product of their +author's mind in its perfected and disciplined maturity--as the splendid +triple crown of Shakespeare's genius. No other dramatist, no other poet, +has given the world anything that can for a moment be taken into +consideration as equal to these tragedies; and Shakespeare himself left +us nothing equal to any one of them, taken as a whole and in detail; +although there are some parts of other late plays--"Macbeth," "Antony +and Cleopatra," "Troilus and Cressida," and "The Tempest"--which, in +their grandeur of imagination and splendor of language, bear the stamp +of this great period. + +And yet such was the merely stage-providing nature of Shakespeare's +work, that even "Hamlet," produced at the very height of his reputation, +is, like the Second and Third Parts of "King Henry VI.," which came from +his 'prentice hand, connected in some way, we do not know exactly what, +with a drama by an elder contemporary upon the same subject. There are +traces in contemporary satirical literature of a "Hamlet" which had been +performed as early as 1589, or possibly two years earlier. It is +remarkable that in the first edition of Shakespeare's "Hamlet" (1603) +Polonius is called Corambis, and Reynaldo, Montano; in which latter +names we may safely assume that we have relics of the old play; and, +although I am sure that in this edition of 1603 we have merely a +mutilated and patched-up version, surreptitiously obtained, and printed +in headlong haste, of the perfected play (in which opinion I differ from +some English scholars, whose learning and judgment I respect, but to +whom I would hold myself ready to prove, under forfeit, to their +satisfaction the correctness of my view); there are also in this +mutilated 1603 edition passages which not only are manifestly not what +Shakespeare wrote, but not even a mutilated form of what he wrote. They +are probably taken from the older play to supply the place of passages +of the new play which could not be obtained in time for the hasty +publication of this pirated edition of Shakespeare's tragedy. Remark, +here, in this hasty and surreptitious edition, evidence of the great +impression suddenly made by Shakespeare's "Hamlet." On its production it +became at once so popular that a piratical publisher was at the trouble +and expense of getting as much of the original as he could by unfair +means, and vamping this up with inferior and older matter to meet the +popular demand for reading copies. There is evidence of a like success +of "King Lear." Since the time when these plays were produced there has +been, we are called upon to believe, a great elevation of general +intelligence, and there surely has been a great diffusion of knowledge; +and yet it may be safely remarked that "Saratoga" and "Pique" and "The +Golden Age," which ran their hundred nights and more, are not quite +equal to "Hamlet" or to "King Lear," which, even with all their success, +did not run anything like a hundred nights; and we may as safely believe +that if "Hamlet" or "King Lear" were produced for the first time this +winter in New York or in London, there would not be such a great and +sudden demand for copies that extraordinary means would be taken by +publishers to supply it. This superiority of the general public taste in +dramatic literature during the Elizabethan era is one of the remarkable +phenomena in literary history; and it is one that remains unaccounted +for, and is, I think, altogether inexplicable, except upon the +assumption that theatres nowadays rely for their support upon a public +of low intellectual grade, and a taste for gross luxury and material +splendor. + +In reading "Hamlet" there is little opportunity of comparing it +instructively with any of its predecessors. Its principal personage is +entirely unlike any other created by Shakespeare. The play is all +Hamlet: the other personages are mere occasions for his presence and +means of his development. But Polonius is something the same kind of +man as old Capulet in "Romeo and Juliet;" and although there were +opportunities enough for the noble Veronese father to utter +sententiously the knowledge of the world which he had gained by living +in it, see how comparatively meagre and superficial his "wise saws" are +compared with the counsel that Polonius gives to his son and to his +daughter, and to the King and Queen; although Polonius, with all his +sagacity, is garrulous and a bore; in Hamlet's words, a tedious old +fool. As to Hamlet's character, Shakespeare did not mean it to be +altogether admirable or otherwise, but simply to be Hamlet--a perfectly +natural and not very uncommon man, although he expresses natural and not +uncommon feelings with the marvellous utterance of the great master of +dramatic poetry. And Hamlet's character is not altogether admirable; but +it is therefore none the less, but probably the more, deeply +interesting. How closely packed the play is with profound truths of life +philosophy is shown by the fact that it has contributed not only very +much more--four or five times more--than any other poem of similar +length to the storehouse of adage and familiar phrase, but at least +twice as much as any other of Shakespeare's plays. I know two boys who, +going to see the play for the first time, some years before the +appearance of a like story in the newspapers, came home and did +actually, in the innocence of their hearts, qualify the great admiration +they expressed for it by adding, "but how full it is of quotations." In +fact, about one eighth of this long play has become so familiar to the +world that it is in common use, and is recognized as the best expression +known of the thoughts that it embodies. This, however, is not an +absolute test of excellence, for it is remarkable that "King Lear" is +very much behind it, and also behind "Othello," in this respect; and +indeed there are several plays, including "Macbeth," "Julius Cæsar," +"Henry IV.," "As You Like It," and "The Merchant of Venice," which are +richer than "King Lear" in passages familiarly quoted; and yet as to the +superiority of "King Lear" to the other plays I think there can be no +doubt. It is the greatest tragedy, the greatest dramatic poem, the +greatest book, ever written; so great is it, in fact, so vast in its +style, so lofty in its ideal, that to those who have reflected upon it +and justly apprehended it, it has become unplayable. As well attempt to +score the music of the spheres, or to paint "the fat weed that roots +itself in ease on Lethe wharf." In "King Lear" there is a personage who +may be very instructively compared with others of the same kind by the +student of Shakespeare's mental development. This is the Fool. +Shakespeare's fools or clowns (such as those in "Love's Labor's Lost" +and in "Hamlet") are among the most remarkable evidences of his ability +to make anything serve as the occasion and the mouthpiece of his wit and +his wisdom. He did not make the character; he found it on the stage, and +a favorite with a considerable part of the play-goers. It was, however, +as he found it, a very coarse character, rude as well as gross in +speech, and given to practical joking. He relieved it of all the +rudeness, if not of all the grossness, and reformed the joking +altogether; but he also filled the Fool's jesting with sententious +satire, and while preserving the low-comedy style of the character, +brought it into keeping with a lofty and even a tragic view of life. In +"King Lear" the Fool rises into heroic proportions, and becomes a sort +of conscience, or second thought, to Lear. Compared even with Touchstone +he is very much more elevated, and shows not less than Hamlet, or than +Lear himself, the grand development of Shakespeare's mind at this period +of its maturity. In the representation of Shakespeare's plays there has +been no greater affront to common sense than the usual presentation of +this Fool upon the stage as a boy, except the putting a pretty woman +into the part, dressed in such a way as to captivate the eye and divert +the attention by the beauty of her figure. It is disturbing enough to +see Ariel, sexless, but, like the angels, rather masculine than +feminine, represented by a woman dressed below the waist in an inverted +gauze saucer, and above the waist in a perverted gauze nothing; but to +see Lear's Fool thus unbedecked is more amazing than Bottom's brutal +translation was to his fellow actors. This Fool is a man of middle age, +one who has watched the world and grown sad over it. His jesting has a +touch of heart-break in it which is prevented from becoming pathetic +only by the cynicism which pertains partly to his personal character and +partly to his office. He and Kent are about of an age--Kent, who when +asked his age, as he comes back disguised to his old master, says, "Not +so young as to love a woman for her singing, nor so old as to dote on +her for anything; I have years on my back forty-eight"--a speech which +contains one of the finest of Shakespeare's minor touches of +worldly-wise character drawing. The German artist Retsch in his fine +outline illustrations of this play has conceived this Fool with fine +appreciation of Shakespeare's meaning. He makes him a mature man, with a +wan face and a sad, eager eye. The misrepresentation of the character +has its origin in Lear's calling the Fool "boy"--a term partly of +endearment and partly of patronage, which has been so used in all +countries and in all times. A similar misunderstanding of a similar word +_fool_, which Lear touchingly applies to Cordelia in the last +scene--"and my poor fool is hanged"--caused the misapprehension until of +late years[G] that Lear's court Fool was hanged--although why Edmund's +creatures should have been at the trouble in the stress of their +disaster to hang a Fool it would puzzle any one to tell. + +"Othello" bears throughout the marks of the same maturity of intellect, +and the same mastery of dramatic effect, that appear in "Hamlet" and in +"King Lear"; but from the nature of its subject it is not so profoundly +thoughtful as the others. It is a drama of action, which "Hamlet" is not +in a high degree; and although a grand example of the imaginative +dramatic style, it has the distinction of being the most actable of all +Shakespeare's tragedies. It is difficult to conceive any age or any +country in which "Othello" would not be an impressive and a welcome play +to any intelligent audience. Highly poetical in its treatment, it is +intensely real in its interest; and it must continue so until there is a +radical change in human nature. + +In the first of these articles I proposed to analyze and compare the +jealousy of Othello, Claudio, and Leontes; but I have abandoned the +design, partly because I find that it would require another article in +itself, and partly because it would necessarily lead me into a +psychological and physiological discussion which would hardly be in +keeping with the purpose with which I am now writing, which is merely to +offer such guidance and such help as I can give to intelligent and +somewhat inexperienced readers of Shakespeare. But I will remark that +Othello's jealousy is man's jealousy (so called) raised to the most +intense power by the race and the social position of the person who is +its subject. The feeling in man and that in woman, called jealousy, are +quite different in origin and in nature, although they have the same +name. In woman the feeling arises from a supposed slight of her person, +the _spretæ injuria formæ_ of Virgil, to which he attributes Juno's +enmity to Troy; and however it may be sentimentally developed, it has +this for its spring and its foundation. But a man, unless he is the +weakest of all coxcombs, and unworthy to wear his beard, does not +trouble himself because a woman admires another man's person more than +his own. His feeling has its origin in the motherhood of woman, a +recognition of which is latent in all social arrangements touching the +sex, and in all man's feeling toward her. Man's jealousy is a mingled +feeling of resentment of personal disloyalty, and of grief at unchastity +on the part of the woman that he loves. Man is jealous much in the same +sense in which it is said, "The Lord thy God is a jealous God"; which +saying, indeed, is a consequence of the anthropomorphic conception of +the Deity, notwithstanding the exclusion from it of the idea of sex. But +it is impossible to conceive of such a feeling as feminine jealousy +being referred to in the passage in the second commandment. The +"jealousy" of Othello and Leontes, and of Claudio, will be found on +examination to be at bottom the same. In Claudio it is correct, +gentlemanly, princely, and somewhat weak; in Leontes it is morbid, +unreasonable, hard, and cruel; in Othello it is perfectly pure in its +quality, and has in it quite as much of tenderness and grief as of wrath +and indignation; and it rages with all the fierceness of his half-savage +nature. The passion in him becomes heroic, colossal; but it is perfect +in its nature and in its proportions, and from the point to which he has +been brought by Iago, perfectly justifiable. Hence it is that it is so +respected by women. Nothing was more remarkable at Salvini's admirable +performance of Othello than the acquiescence of all his female auditors +in the fate of Desdemona. They were sorry for the poor girl, to be sure; +but they seemed to think that Desdemonas were made to be the victims of +Othellos, and that a man who could love in that fashion and be jealous +in that style of exalted fury was rather to be pitied and admired when +he smothered a woman on a misunderstanding. She should not have teased +him so to take back Cassio; and what could she have expected when she +was so careless about the handkerchief and told such lies about it! It +is somewhat unpleasant to be smothered, to be sure, but all the same +she ought to be content and happy to be the object of such love and the +occasion of such jealousy. They mourned far more over his fate than over +hers. This representation of manly jealousy, so elemental and simple, +and yet so stupendous, is one of Shakespeare's masterpieces. I mean not +merely in its verbal expression, but in its characteristic conception of +the masculine form of the passion. Compare it with the jealousy of any +of his women--of Adriana, of Julia, of Cleopatra, of Imogen, of +Regan--and see how different it is in kind; I will not say in degree; +for Shakespeare has not exhibited woman as highly deformed by this +passion; that he left for inferior dramatists, with whom it is a +favorite subject. + +In two of these tragedies we have Shakespeare's most elaborate and, so +to speak, admirable representations of villany: Edmund in "King Lear" +and Iago in "Othello." These vile creations cannot, however, be justly +regarded as the fruit of a lower view of human nature consequent upon a +longer acquaintance with it. They were merely required by the exigencies +of his plots; and being required, he made them as it was in him to do. +For in nothing is his superiority more greatly manifested than in the +fact that monsters of baseness, or even thoroughly base men, figure so +rarely among his _dramatis personæ_. They are common with inferior +dramatists and writers of prose fiction, whose ruder hands need them as +convenient motive powers and as vehicles of the expression of a lower +view of human nature. Not so with him. He has weak and erring men--men +who are misled by their passions, ambition, revenge, selfish lust, or +what not; but Iago, Edmund, and the Duke in "Measure for Measure" are +almost all his characters of their kind. In "Richard III." he merely +painted a highly colored historical portrait; and Parolles, in "All's +Well that Ends Well," and Iachimo, in "Cymbeline," do not rise to the +dignity of even third-rate personages. Iago, it need hardly be said, is +the most perfect of all his creatures in this kind, and indeed he is the +most admirably detestable and infamous character in all literature. +Edmund is equally base and cruel; but compared with Iago he is a coarse, +low, brutal, and rabid animal. In Iago all the craft and venom of which +the human soul is capable is united with an intellectual subtlety which +seems to reach the limit of imagination or conception. There are some +who see in the making the bastard son in "Lear" the monster of +ingratitude and villany and the legitimate a model of all the manly and +filial virtues an evidence of Shakespeare's judgment and discrimination. +But this is one of those fond and over-subtle misapprehensions from +which Shakespeare has suffered in not a few instances, even at the hands +of critics of reputation. It suited Shakespeare's plot that the villain +should be the bastard; that is all; and Lear's legitimate daughters +Goneril and Regan are as base, as bad, and as cruelly ungrateful as +Gloucester's illegitimate son. Shakespeare knew human nature too well, +and handled it with too just and impartial a hand, to let the question +of legitimacy influence him in one way or the other. In "King John" we +have, on the contrary, the mean-souled Robert Faulconbridge and his +gallant and chivalrous bastard brother Philip. + +About the same time, or if not in the same time, perhaps in the same +year which saw the production of "King Lear," "Macbeth" was written. But +its date is not certain within four or five years. It was surely written +before 1610, in which year a contemporary diary records its performance +on the 20th of April. The Cambridge editors, in their annotated edition +of this play, in the "Clarendon Press" series, prefer the later date; +but notwithstanding my great respect for their judgment, I hold to my +conclusion for the earlier, for the reasons given in my own edition. The +question has not in itself much pertinence to our present purpose, as +there is no doubt that the tragedy was produced in this period, and its +general style, both of thought and versification, is that of Shakespeare +in its fullest development and vigor. But with the question of date +there is involved another of great interest to the thoughtful +reader--that of mixed authorship. In the introductory essay to my +edition of this play (published in 1861) attention was directed to the +internal evidence that it was hastily written and left unfinished.[H] +Subsequent editors and critics, notably the Cambridge editors and the +Rev. F. G. Fleay, in his "Shakespearian Manual," starting from this +view, have gone so far as to say that "Macbeth," as we have it, is not +all Shakespeare's, but in part the work of Thomas Middleton, a second or +third-rate playwright contemporary with Shakespeare, who wrote a play, +called "The Witch," which is plainly an imitation of the supernatural +scenes in this tragedy. The Cambridge editors believe that Middleton was +permitted to supply certain scenes at the time of the writing of +Macbeth: Mr. Fleay, that Middleton cut down and patched up Shakespeare's +perfected work, adding much inferior matter of his own, and that he did +this being engaged to alter the play for stage purposes. The latter +opinion I must reject, notwithstanding Mr. Fleay's minute, elaborate, +and often specious argument; but the opinion of the Cambridge editors +seems to me to a certain extent sound. I cannot, however, go to the +length which they do in rejecting parts of this play as not being +Shakespeare's work. This study of Shakespeare's style and of what is not +his work at a certain period of his life being directly to our purpose, +let us examine the tragedy for traces of his hand and of another. + +And first let the reader turn to Scene 5 of Act III., which consists +almost entirely of a long speech by Hecate, beginning: + + Have I not reason, beldames as you are, + Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare + To trade and traffic with Macbeth + In riddles and affairs of death: + And I, the mistress of your charms, + The close contriver of all harms, + Was never called to bear my part, + Or show the glory of our art? + +This speech is surely not of Shakespeare's writing. Its being in +octosyllabic rhyme is not against it, however; although he abandoned +rhyme almost altogether at or before this period. The fact of the +business of the scene being supernatural would account for its form. But +it is mere rhyme; little more than an unmeaning jingle of verses. Any +journeyman at versemaking would write such stuff. Read the speech +through, and then think of the writer of "Hamlet," and "Lear," and +"Othello," producing such a weak wash of words at the same time when he +was writing those tragedies. And even turn back and compare it with the +rhyming speeches of his other supernatural personages, of Puck and +Titana and Oberon in "A Midsummer Night's Dream," which he wrote at +least ten or twelve years earlier, and you will see that it is not only +so inferior, but so unlike his undoubted work that it must be rejected. +Turn next to Scene 3 of Act II., and read the speeches of the Porter. +Long ago Coleridge said of these, "This low soliloquy of the Porter and +his few speeches afterward I believe to have been written for the mob by +some other hand." That they were written for the mob is nothing against +them as Shakespeare's. Shakespeare wrote for the mob. He made a point of +putting in something for the groundlings[I] in every play that he wrote. +But with what a mighty hand he did it! so that those who have since then +sat in the highest seats in the world's theatre have laughed, and +pondered as they laughed. "Lear" is notably free from this element; but +even in the philosophical "Hamlet" we have the much elaborated scene of +the Gravediggers, which was written only to please Coleridge's "mob."[J] +But let the reader now compare these Porter's speeches in "Macbeth" with +those of the Gravediggers in "Hamlet," and if he is one who can hope to +appreciate Shakespeare at all, he will at this stage of his study see at +once that although both are low-comedy, technically speaking, the former +are low-lived, mean, thoughtless, without any other significance than +that of the surface meaning of the poor, gross language in which they +are written; while the latter, although, far more laughable even to the +most uncultivated hearer, are pregnant with thought and suggestion. +There can be no question that these speeches in "Macbeth" were written +by some other hand than Shakespeare's. + +Having now satisfied ourselves that some part of "Macbeth" is not +Shakespeare's (and I began with those so manifestly spurious passages to +establish that point clearly and easily in the reader's apprehension), +"we are in a proper mood of mind to consider the objections that have +been made by the Cambridge editors to other parts of the tragedy. The +whole second scene of Act I. is regarded as spurious because of +"slovenly metre," too slovenly for him even when he is most careless; +"bombastic phraseology," too bombastic for him even when he is most so; +also because he had too much good sense to send a severely wounded +soldier with the news of a victory. I cannot reject this scene for these +reasons. The question of metre and style is one of judgment; and the one +seems to me not more irregular and careless, and the other not more +tumid, than Shakespeare is in passages undoubtedly of his writing; while +there is a certain flavor of language in the scene and a certain roll of +the words upon the tongue which are his peculiar traits and tricks of +style. The point as to the wounded soldier seems to me a manifest +misapprehension. He is not sent as a messenger. Nothing in the text or +in the stage directions of the original edition gives even color to such +an opinion. The first two scenes of this act prepare one's mind for the +tragedy and lay out its action; and they do so, as far as design is +concerned, with great skill. The first short scene announces the +supernatural character of the agencies at work; the next tells us of the +personages who are to figure in the action and the position in which +they are placed. In the second scene King Duncan and his suite, marching +toward the scene of conflict, and so near it that they are within +ear-shot, if not arrow-shot, _meet_ a wounded officer. He is not sent to +them. He is merely retiring from the field severely wounded--so severely +that he cannot remain long uncared for. The stage direction of the folio +is "Alarum within," which means (as will be found by examining other +plays) that the sound of drums, trumpets, and the conflict of arms is +heard. Then, "Enter King, etc., etc., _meeting_ a bleeding Captaine." +The King, then, does not greet or regard him as a messenger, but +exclaims, "What bloody man is that?" and adds, "He _can_ report, as +_seemeth by his plight_, the condition of the revolt." Plainly this is +no messenger, but a mere wounded officer who leaves the field because, +as he says, his "gashes cry for help." + +In Act IV., Sc. 1, this speech of the First Witch after the "Show of +Eight Kings," is plainly not Shakespeare's: + + Ay, sir, all this is so; but why + Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? + Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, + And show the best of our delights. + I'll charm the air to give a sound, + While you perform your antic round, + That this great king may kindly say + Our duties did his welcome pay. + +This is condemned by the Cambridge editors, and I agree entirely with +them. Moreover it seems to be manifestly from the same hand as Hecate's +speech (Act III., Sc. 5), previously referred to. The style shows this, +and the motive is the same--the introduction of fairy business, dancing +and singing, which have nothing to do with the action of the tragedy, +and are quite foreign to the supernatural motive of it as indicated in +the witch scenes which have the mark of Shakespeare's hand. + +In Act IV., Sc. 3, the passage in regard to touching for the King's +Evil, from "Enter a Doctor" to "full of grace," was, we may be pretty +sure, an interpolation previous to a representation at court, as the +Cambridge editors suggest, and it is probably not Shakespeare's; but I +would not undertake to say so positively. The same editors say they +"have doubts about the second scene of Act V." I notice this not merely +to express my surprise at it, but to let the reader see how difficult it +is to arrive at a general consent upon such points which are merely +matters of judgment. To me this scene is unmistakably Shakespeare's. Who +else could have written this passage, not only for its excellence but +for its peculiarity? + + _Caithness._--Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies: + Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him, + Do call it valiant fury; but for certain + _He cannot buckle his distempered cause + Within the belt of rule._ + + _Angus._-- Now does he feel + _His secret murders sticking on his hands_; + Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach; + Those he commands move only in command, + Nothing in love; _now does he feel his title + Hang loose about him like a giant's robe + Upon a dwarfish thief_. + +I am sure that I should have suspected those lines to be Shakespeare's +if I had first met them without a name, in a nameless book. Still more +surprising is it to me to find these editors saying that in Act V., Sc. +5, lines 47-50 are "singularly weak." Here they are: + + If this which he avouches does appear, + There is no flying hence or tarrying here. + I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, + And wish the estate of the world were now undone. + +The first two have no particular character, nor need they have any, as +they merely introduce the last two, which contain an utterance of blank +despair and desolation which seems to me more expressive than any other +that I ever read. + +The last passage of the play, that after line 34, when Macbeth and +Macduff go off fighting, and Macbeth is killed, are probably, as the +Cambridge editors suggest, by another hand than Shakespeare's. Their +tameness and their constrained rhythm are not Shakespearian work, +particularly at this period of his life, and in the writing of such a +scene. "Nor would he," as the Cambridge editors say, "have drawn away +the veil which with his fine tact he had dropped over her [Lady +Macbeth's] fate by telling us that she had taken off her life 'by self, +and violent hands.'" + +The person who wrote these un-Shakespearian passages was probably +Middleton. Shakespeare, writing the tragedy in haste for an occasion, +received a little help, according to the fashion of the time, from +another playwright; and the latter having imitated the supernatural +poets of this play in one of his own, the players or managers afterward +introduced from that play songs by him--"Music and a song, Come away, +come away," Act III., Sc. 5, and "Music and a song, Black spirits," +etc., Act IV., Sc. 1. This was done to please the inferior part of the +audience. These songs and all this sort of operatic incantation are +entirely foreign to the supernatural motive of the tragedy as +Shakespeare conceived it. And I will here remark that the usual +performance of "Macbeth" with "a chorus" and "all Locke's music" is a +revolting absurdity. + +My next paper will close this series with an examination of some of +Shakespeare's least known dramas. + + RICHARD GRANT WHITE. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote G: Since 1854.] + +[Footnote H: For the convenience of readers to whom my edition is not +accessible I quote the following passage: + + "I am more inclined to this opinion from the indications which the + play itself affords that it was produced upon an emergency. It + exhibits throughout the hasty execution of a grand and clearly + conceived design. But the haste is that of a master of his art, + who, with conscious command of its resources, and in the frenzy of + a grand inspiration, works out his conception to its minutest + detail of essential form, leaving the work of surface finish for + the occupation of cooler leisure. What the Sistine Madonna was to + Raphael, it seems that 'Macbeth' was to Shakespeare--a magnificent + impromptu; that kind of impromptu which results from the + application of well-disciplined powers and rich stores of thought + to a subject suggested by occasion. I am inclined to regard + 'Macbeth' as, for the most part, a specimen of Shakespeare's + unelaborated, if not unfinished, writing, in the maturity and + highest vitality of his genius. It abounds in instances of + extremest compression and most daring ellipsis; while it exhibits + in every scene a union of supreme dramatic and poetic power, and in + almost every line an imperially irresponsible control of language. + Hence, I think, its lack of formal completeness of versification in + certain passages, and also of the imperfection in its text, the + thought in which the compositors were not always able to follow and + apprehend. The only authority for the text of 'Macbeth' is the + folio of 1623, the apparent corruptions of which must be restored + with a more than usually cautious hand. Without being multitudinous + or confusing, they are sufficiently numerous and important to test + severely the patience, acumen, and judgment of any editor."--_"The + Works of William Shakespeare." Vol. X., P._ 424.] + +[Footnote I: So called because they stood on the ground. The pit was +then a real pit, and its floor was the bare earth. There were no +benches. It was so in the French theatre until a much later period. +Hence the French name _parterre_ for the pit--_par terre_, upon the +ground. The name _parquet_, which is given to that part of a theatre in +America, is not French, and is no word at all, but a miserable affected +nonentity of sound.] + +[Footnote J: The reader who cares to do so will find something upon this +point in my essay on Shakespeare's genius, "Life and Genius of +Shakespeare," pp. 280, 281.] + + + + +APPLIED SCIENCE. + +A LOVE STORY IN TWO CHAPTERS. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +The village of Salmon Falls, in eastern New England, consists of a +number of mills and factories, the railroad station, a store or two, and +two hundred dwellings. Among these is the Denny mansion at the top of +the hill, where the road climbs up from the station and the river. It is +a large square house in the old colonial fashion, with two wings at the +rear and a garden in front. + +It was a warm July morning when Mr. John Denny, mill owner and +proprietor of the homestead, had his chair rolled out to the porch, and +with some assistance from the servants, reached it on his crutch and sat +down in the shadow of the great house and out of the glare of the hot +sun. The vine-covered porch and the wide piazza opened directly upon the +garden and gave a full view of the road. Beyond there was an outlook +over the open fields, the mills, the stream, and the village in the +valley. By the road there was a stone wall and a wicker gate opening +upon the grassy sidewalk outside. A table had been laid with a white +cloth in the porch, and Mr. Denny sat by it and waited for the coming of +his daughter and breakfast. While he sat thus he turned over a number of +papers, and then, after a while, he began to talk to himself somewhat in +this wise: + +"Expense! expense! expense! There seems no end to it. Bills coming in +every day, and every one larger than was expected. In my young days we +built a shop and knew to a dollar what it would cost. Now the estimates +are invariably short. The batting mill has already gone a thousand +dollars beyond the estimates, and the roof is but just put on. Even the +new chimney cost four dollars a foot more than was expected. Thank +Heaven, it is done, and that expense is over. Could I walk, I might look +after things and keep them within bounds. With my crushed foot I sit a +prisoner at home, and must leave all to Lawrence. It is fortunate that I +have one man I can trust with my affairs." + +Just here Alma, his only child, a bright and wholesome girl of nineteen, +appeared from the house. Fairly educated, sensible, and affectionate, +but perhaps a trifle inexperienced by reason of her residence in this +quiet place, she is at once the pride and the light of the house. + +"Good morning, father. Are you well this happy summer's day?" + +The old gentleman kissed her fondly, and asked did she pass a quiet +night. + +"Oh, yes. I didn't sleep much, that is all--for thinking." + +"Thinking of what?" + +"The expected guest. To-day is the 9th of July, and cousin Elmer comes." + +"Ah, yes--Elmer Franklin. I had almost forgotten him." + +"How does he look, father? Is his hair dark, or has he blue eyes? I +hardly know which I like best." + +"I do not remember. I've not seen the boy since he was a mere child, +years ago. He has been at school since." + +"He must be a man now. He is past twenty-one, and, as for school, why, +it's the Scientific School, and I'm sure men go to that." + +"You seem greatly interested in this unknown relative, Alma." + +"He is to be our guest, father--for a whole month. Come! Will you have +breakfast out here in the porch?" + +"Yes, dear. It is quite comfortable here, and it will save the trouble +of moving." + +Thereupon Alma entered the house in search of the breakfast, and a +moment after Mr. Lawrence Belford entered the garden at the street gate. +The son of an old friend of Mr. Denny's lamented wife, Mr. Belford had +been admitted to the house some months since as confidential clerk and +business man. He was a rather commonplace person, about thirty years of +age, and his education and manners were good if not remarkable. During +his residence with the Dennys he had found time to fall in love with +Alma, and they had been engaged--and with Mr. Denny's consent. + +"Good morning, Lawrence. You're just in time for breakfast." + +"Good morning, sir. Thank you, no. I have been to breakfast. I am just +up from the station." + +"Seen anything of the railroad coach? The train is in, and it is time +for the coach to pass. Our guest may be in it." + +"No, sir, but I saw the express coming up the hill with an extra large +load of baggage." + +Just here Alma returned from the house bearing a large tray of plates +and breakfast things. The young people greet each other pleasantly, and +Alma proceeds to lay the table. + +"Now for breakfast, father. Everything waits upon a good appetite. Will +you not join us, Lawrence?" + +Mr. Belford replies that he has been to breakfast. Mr. Denny takes a cup +of coffee, and while sipping it remarks: + +"How many more window-frames shall you require for the new mill, +Lawrence?" + +"Ten more, sir. There is only a part of the fourth story unfinished." + +"Alma, dear, do you remember how high we decided the new chimney was to +be? Yes, thank you, only two lumps of sugar. Thank you. You remember we +were talking about it when the Lawsons were here." + +"Don't ask me. Ask Lawrence. I never can remember anything about such +matters." + +Just at that moment the express pulled up at the gate, and there was a +knock. Alma rose hastily, and said: + +"Oh! That must be Elmer." + +She opened the gate, and young Mr. Elmer Franklin of New York entered. A +man to respect: an open, manly face, clear blue eyes, and a wiry, +compact, and vigorous frame. A man with a sound mind in a sound body. He +was dressed in a gray travelling suit, and had a knapsack strapped to +his back; in his hand a stout stick looking as if just cut from the +roadside, and at his side a field glass in a leather case. Immediately +behind him came a man bending under the load of an immense trunk. Alma +smiled her best, and the young stranger bowed gallantly. + +"Mr. Denny, I presume?" + +"Welcome, cousin Franklin," said Mr. Denny from his chair. "I knew you +at once, though it is years since any members of our families have met. +Pardon me if I do not rise. I'm an old man, and confined to my chair." + +Mr. Franklin offered his hand and said politely: + +"Thank you, sir, for your kind reception. I am greatly pleased to---- +Hullo! Look out there, boys! That baggage is precious and fragile." + +Another man appeared, and the two brought in trunks and boxes, bundles +and parcels, till there was quite a large heap of baggage piled up on +the grass. Alma and Lawrence were properly amazed at this array of +things portable, and Mr. Denny laid aside the breakfast things to look +at the rather remarkable display. + +The young man seemed to think apologies essential. + +"I do not wonder that you are alarmed. I do not often take such a load +of traps. I wrote you that my visit would be one of study and scientific +investigation, and I was obliged to bring my philosophical apparatus and +books with me." + +"It is indeed a wonderful train of luggage for a man. One would have +thought you intended to bring a wife." + +Then Mr. Denny bethought him of his duty, and he introduced his newly +found relative to his daughter and to Mr. Lawrence Belford, and then +bade him draw up to the table for breakfast. The young man made the +motions suitable for such an occasion, and then he turned to pay his +expressman. This trifling incident deserves record as happily +illustrating the young man's noble character. + +"Thank you, sir. Breakfast will be a cheerful episode. I've a glorious +appetite, for I walked up from the station." + +"There's a coach, Mr. Franklin, and it passes our door." + +"I knew that, sir, but I preferred to walk and see the country. Fine +section of conglomerate you have in the road cutting just above the +station." + +"Eh! What were you saying?" + +"I said that I observed an interesting section of +conglomerate--water-worn pebbles, I should say--mingled with quartz +sand, on the roadside. I must have a run down there and a better look at +it after breakfast." + +Mr. Denny was somewhat overwhelmed at this, and said doubtfully, + +"Ah, yes, I remember--yes, exactly." + +"Are you interested in geology, Miss Denny?" + +Alma was rather confused, and tried hard to find the lump of sugar that +had melted away in her coffee, and said briefly, + +"No. I didn't know that we had any in this part of the country." + +Mr. Belford here felt called upon to say: + +"My dear Alma, you forget yourself." + +"Why will you take me up so sharply, Lawrence? I meant to say that I +didn't know we had any quartz conglomerate hereabouts." + +Mr. Franklin smiled pleasantly, and remarked to himself: + +"My dear Alma! That's significant. Wonder if he's spooney on her?" + +Then he said aloud: + +"The pursuit of science demands good dinners. Pardon me if I take some +more coffee." + +"Yes, do--and these rolls. I made them myself--expressly for you." + +"Thank you for both rolls and compliment." + +Mr. Lawrence took up some of the papers from the table and began to read +them, and the others went on with their breakfast. Presently Mr. Denny +said: + +"I presume, Mr. Franklin, that you are greatly interested in your school +studies?" + +"Yes, sir. The pursuit of pure science is one of the most noble +employments that can tax the cultivated intellect." + +"But you must confess that it is not very practical." + +Before the young man could reply Alma spoke: + +"Oh! cousin Elmer--I mean Mr. Franklin--excuse me. You haven't taken off +your knapsack." + +Taking it off and throwing it behind him on the ground, he said: + +"It's only my clothes." + +"Clothes!" said Mr. Denny. "Then what is in the trunks?" + +"My theodolite, cameras, chains, levels, telescopes, retorts, and no end +of scientific traps." + +Alma, quite pleased: + +"How interesting. Won't you open one of the trunks and let us see some +of the things?" + +"With the greatest pleasure; but perhaps I'd better take them to my room +first." + +"Anything you like, Elmer--Mr. Franklin, I mean. Our house is your +home." + +Lawrence Belford here frowned and looked in an unpleasant manner for a +moment at the young stranger, who felt rather uncomfortable, though he +could scarcely say why. With apparent indifference he drew out a small +brass sounder, such as is used in telegraph offices, and began snapping +it in his fingers. + +In his mind he said: + +"Wonder if any of them are familiar with the great dot and line +alphabet!" + +Alma heard the sounder and said eagerly: + +"Oh! cou--Mr. Franklin, what is that?" + +"It is a pocket sounder. Do you know the alphabet?" + +"I should hope so." + +"I beg pardon. I meant Morse's." + +"Morse's?" + +"Yes. Morse's alphabet." + +"No. You must teach it to me." + +Thereupon he moved the sounder slowly, giving a letter at a time, and +saying: + + "A - -- L - -- - - M -- -- A - --. + +That's your name. Queer sound, isn't it?" + +"Let me try. Perhaps I could do it." + +"My dear Alma, your father is waiting. You had best remove the things." + +"Yes, Lawrence. I'll call Mary." + +The maid soon appeared, and the breakfast things were removed. Then Mr. +Denny drew Mr. Franklin's attention to the new factory chimney that +stood in plain sight from where they sat. + +The young man promptly drew out his field glass, and, mounting one of +the steps of the porch, took a long look at the new shaft. + +"Not quite plumb, is it?" + +"Not plumb! What do you mean?" + +"It is impossible," said Mr. Belford with some warmth. + +"It looks so," said the young man with the glass still up at his eyes. + +"I tell you it is impossible, sir. I built it myself, and I ought to +know." + +"Oh! Beg pardon. You can take the glass and see for yourself." + +"I need no glass. I took the stage down only yesterday, and I ought to +know." + +"Allow me to take your glass, cousin Franklin," said Mr. Denny. He took +the glass, but quickly laid it down with a sigh. + +"My eyes are old and weak, and the glass does not suit them. I am very +sorry to hear what you say. I would not have one of my chimneys out of +line for the world." + +"I am sorry I said anything about it, sir. I did not know the chimney +belonged to you." + +Alma was apparently distressed at the turn the conversation had taken, +and tried to lead it to other matters, but the old gentleman's mind was +disturbed, and he returned to the chimney. + +"I designed it to be the tallest and finest chimney I ever erected, and +I hope it is all correct." + +"It is, sir," said Mr. Belford. "Everything is correct to the very +capstones." + +"It is my tallest chimney, Mr. Franklin--eighty-one feet and six inches; +and that is two feet taller than any chimney in the whole Salmon Falls +valley." + +Mr. Franklin, in an innocent spirit of scientific inquiry, put his glass +to his eyes and examined the chimney again. Alma began to feel ill at +ease, and Lawrence Belford indulged in a muttered curse under his black +moustache. + +"Eighty-one feet and six inches--the tallest chimney in the valley." + +No one seemed to heed the old gentleman's remark, and presently Mr. +Franklin laid his field glass on the table, and taking out his brass +sounder, he idly moved it as if absently thinking of something. + +Alma suddenly looked up with a little blush and a smile. Her eyes seemed +to say to him: + +"I heard you call? What is it?" + +He nodded pleasantly, and said, "Would you like to see some of my +traps?" + +"Oh, yes. Do open one of your trunks." + +Mr. Franklin took out a bunch of keys and went to one of the trunks. As +he did so he said to himself: + +"Deuced bright girl! She learned my call in a flash. I must teach her +the whole alphabet, and then will have some tall fun and circumvent that +fool of a clerk." + +This remark was applied to Mr. Belford, and was eminent for its touching +truth. + +While the young people were opening the trunk, Mr. Denny and Mr. Belford +were engaged in examining the business papers spread on the table, and +for several minutes they paid no attention to things done and said +almost under their eyes. + +Such a very strange trunk. Instead of clothing, it contained the most +singular assortment of scientific instruments. Each was carefully +secured so that no rude handling would harm it, and all shining and +glistening brilliantly as if kept with the most exquisite care. Mr. +Franklin unfastened a small brass telescope, mounted upon a stand, with +a compass, levels, plumb line, and weight attached. + +"That's my theodolite. There's a tripod in one of my boxes. I'll get it +and mount it, and we'll have a shot at the chimney. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Oh, nothing! I'm going to measure it. Wouldn't you like to help me?" + +"With all my heart. Tell me what to do." + +"Presently. Wait till I've screwed things together; then I'll tell you +what to do. Oh! By the way, I must tell you an amusing episode that +happened at the railroad station while I was waiting for my luggage. +There was a young man sending off a message at the little telegraph +station, and I overheard the message and the comments of the operator." + +Alma didn't appear to enjoy this incident. + +"Not listening intentionally, you know. It was the telegraph I heard, +not the people." + +Alma felt better. + +"It was all by mere sounds, and it ran this way: 'The old fool is here +again.' That's what she said--the operator, I mean. 'To Isaac Abrams, +1,607 Barclay street, New York. I have secured the will. Foreclose the +mortgage and realize at once. Get two state rooms for the 25th.--L. B.' +That was the message, and it was so very strange I wrote it out in +my---- Oh! Beg pardon, Miss Denny. Are you ill?" + +Alma's face had assumed a sudden pallor, and she seemed frightened and +ill at ease. + +"'Tis nothing--really nothing! I shall be better presently." + +Then, as if anxious to change the conversation, she began to ask rapid +questions about the theodolite and its uses. + +Mr. Franklin was too well bred to notice anything, but he confessed to +himself that he had said something awkward, and, for the life of him, he +could not imagine what it might be. He replied briefly, and then went on +with his preparations for some time in silence, Alma meanwhile looking +on with the greatest interest. The theodolite having been put together, +Mr. Franklin opened another box and took out a wooden tripod, such as +are used to support such instruments. He also took out a fine steel +ribbon, or measuring tape, neatly wound up on a reel. + +"You shall carry that, Miss Denny, and I'll shoulder the theodolite." + +"Wait till I get my hat and the sun umbrella." + +"To be sure; it will be warm in the fields." + +Alma was soon arrayed in a dainty chip. At least she called it a chip, +and the historian can do naught but repeat her language. Besides this, +it was not bigger than a chip, and it looked very pretty tied under her +chin. Over her head she carried its real protection, an immense Japanese +paper umbrella, light, airy, and generous. + +"Where are you going, Alma?" said Mr. Denny. + +"Oh! only to the fields for a little walk. We'll be back presently." + +The confidential clerk thought it strange that the daughter of the +house should be so free with the stranger. But the young people were +distant cousins, and it wouldn't have been polite in him to have +objected to the little walk. + +So the two, under the friendly shade of the big paper umbrella, went out +to see the new chimney, while Mr. Denny and the confidential clerk staid +behind to talk business. + +The new chimney stood at the southeast corner of the great four-story +mill, and close beside the little brick engine house. Alma led the +youthful son of science out of the gate, down the road a few rods, and +then they passed a stile, and took the winding path that straggled over +the pastures to the mill. + +Of course they talked volubly. This being the stern and prosy record of +applied science, it becomes us not to report the chatterings of these +two till they reached the base of the vast brick chimney, towering +nearly eighty feet into the air above them. Its long shadow lay like a +stiffened snake upon the fields, and Elmer, observing it, said: + +"Good! We can use the shadow, too, and have double proof." + +"How?" said the bright one, in a beautiful spirit of inquiry. + +"If an upright stick, a foot long, casts a shadow three feet long, the +shadow of another stick beside it, at the same time, is proportionally +long." + +"I knew that before. That isn't very high science." + +"Why did you say 'how'?" + +"Because I didn't think. Because I was a goose." + +"Such terms are not choice, and are devoid of truth. Here! stern duty +calls. Do you hold one end of the tape at the foot of the chimney, and +I'll measure off the base line of our triangle." + +Alma was charmed to be of use, and sat on a stone with the brass ring of +the tape on her ring finger next her engagement ring, and her hand flat +against the first course of bricks. Trifles sometimes hint great +events. Little did she think that the plain brass ring on her finger was +the hard truth of science that should shiver her gold ring to fragments +and pale its sparkling diamond. Being a wholesome creature, and not +given to romance, she thought nothing about it, which was wise. Her +cousin, the knight of the theodolite, set his instrument upright upon +the grass, and then ran the measuring line out to its full length. + +"All right! Let the tape go." + +Alma took off the brass ring, and the steel ribbon ran like a glittering +snake through the grass, and she slowly followed it and joined her +knight. + +"Once more, please. Hold the ring on this bit of a stake that I've set +up in the ground." + +Alma, like a good girl, did as she was bid, and the ribbon ran out again +to its full length. Another stake was set up, and the theodolite was +placed in position and a sight obtained at the top of the tall chimney. +A little figuring in a note-book, and then the son of high science +quietly remarked: + +"Seventy-six feet four inches--short five feet two inches." + +Just here several urchins of an inquiring turn of mind drew near and +began to make infantile comments, and asked with charming freedom if it +was circus. + +"No!" said Alma, from under her paper tent. "No! Run away, children, run +away." + +It was too warm for so much exertion, and they wouldn't move. + +"Oh! never mind them. They don't trouble me; and if it amuses them, it's +so much clear gain." + +"They are some of the factory children, and I thought they might bother +you." + +"Inelegant, but thoughtful." He didn't say so. He only thought it, which +was quite as well. + +During this little episode the impressive facts that all this scientific +exertion had brought out concerning the chimney were lost upon Alma. It +was small consequence. She knew it well enough before night. + +Now for the shadow by way of proof. The theodolite, paper umbrella, and +admiring crowd of children trotted severally and collectively over the +grass till they reached the chimney again. + +"The tape-measure, Alma. You hold the ring, and I'll unreel the string." + +It was surprising how quickly these two made each other's acquaintance. +By the time the long shadow was measured, a stake set up, and the two +shadows compared, they seemed to have known each other for weeks. Such +is the surprising effect of pure science when applied to love. + +Had it come to this already? She was engaged to the confidential, the +chimney-builder. His ring glittered on her finger. True--all of it! + +See them sauntering slowly (the thermometer at 87 deg.) homeward under +the friendly shade of an oiled paper umbrella. They are indeed good +friends already. They enter the house together, and the cheerful dinner +bell greets their ears. She folds her oiled paper tent and he sets his +instrument up in a corner of the great shady hall. She leads the way to +the chamber that is to be his room during his stay, and then retires to +her own to prepare for the frugal noontide meal. + +The exact truth records that the meal was not severely frugal. It was +otherwise, and so much nicer. + +The entire family were assembled, and conversation was lively, +considering the weather. Near the close of the meal it grew suddenly +warm. The innocent son of science, proud of his accomplishments, made a +most incautious statement, and the result was peculiar. + +"Oh, uncle, you were saying this morning that my science was not very +practical. I tried a bit of it on your chimney this morning, and what do +you think I found?" + +"I'm sure I can't tell," said Mr. Denny. + +"I measured it, and it is exactly seventy-six feet, four inches high." + +If he had dropped a can of nitro-glycerin under the table, the effect +couldn't have been more startling. Mr. Lawrence Belford dropped his +fruit knife with a ruinous rattle, his face assumed the color of frosted +cake (the frosting, to be exact), and he seemed thoroughly frightened. +Mr. Denny looked surprised, and said, + +"What?" + +Alma said nothing, but fished for the sugar in her strawberries and +cream. + +"What did you say, Mr. Franklin?" + +"I said that I measured the new chimney, just for the fun of the thing, +and found that it is exactly seventy-six feet, four inches high." + +"It's an abominable lie." + +"Lawrence!" said Alma, with an appealing glance. + +"Are you sure, Mr. Franklin? Have you not made some mistake?" + +"You are utterly mistaken, Mr. Franklin. I measured that chimney with a +line from the top, and I know your statement is entirely incorrect." + +"I hope so," said the old gentleman. + +"It is so, sir," added Mr. Belford; and then, waxing bolder, he said, +"How could this young person, just from school, know anything of such +matters? Did he build a staging, or did he climb up the inside like a +chimney sweep?" + +Young Mr. Franklin saw that he had in some innocent fashion started a +most disagreeable subject. Why Mr. Denny should be so disturbed and Mr. +Belford so angry was past his comprehension. At the same time Mr. +Belford's language was offensive, and he replied with some spirit: + +"There is no need to climb the chimney, or use a line. It is a trifling +affair to ascertain the height of any building with a theodolite, as you +probably know." + +"I tell you, sir, it is false--utterly false. Besides, you have made +some mistake in the figures. You--you--but I've no patience with such +boy's play. It's only fit for school children." + +"Lawrence," said Alma, "you are unkind. I'm sure we meant no harm. I +helped Mr. Franklin, and I'm sure he's right; besides, we measured the +chimney by its shadow, and both statements were alike." + +"Oh, if you've turned against me, I've nothing more to say." + +Mr. Denny meanwhile seemed lost in deep study, and he hardly heeded what +was going on. + +"What can that boy know about such things? I tell you, it's----" + +"It seems to me, Mr. Belford, you are unnecessarily excited," said Mr. +Denny. "Mr. Franklin is a much younger man than you, but he showed a +knowledge of this matter, and if his figures are correct----" + +"They are, sir," said Elmer warmly. "I can show you the base line, and +the theodolite is still at the same angle. Alma saw me measure the base, +and she can tell you its length. There are the figures in my note-book." + +Mr. Denny took the note-book and examined the figuring out of this +problem, and Elmer went to the hall for his instrument. He returned with +the theodolite still secured at the angle at which the sight had been +taken. As he laid the instrument on the dining table, he said: + +"I am very sorry, uncle, that I did anything about this matter. It was +done in mere sport, and I wish I had said nothing concerning it. I would +not had not Mr. Belford used the language he did." + +Mr. Denny ran his eye over the figures in the book, and then, with a +pained expression, he said briefly, + +"Everything seems to be correct." + +"Damnation! I'll break his head for him, the intermeddling fool." This +language was not actually used by Mr. Belford, but he thought as much. +His eyes flashed, and he clenched his fists under the table. Alma's +presence alone restrained him from something more violent. He appeared +calm, but inwardly he was angry. This unexpected announcement +concerning the chimney he had built cast a heavy shadow over him, and +his conscience awoke with a sudden smart. + +Alma was greatly disturbed, and ready to cry for shame and vexation. She +did not, for she felt sure this was only the beginning of a new trouble, +and she well knew that heavy sorrows had already invaded the house. They +needed no more. + +Mr. Franklin glanced from one to another in alarm. He saw that he was +treading upon uncertain ground, and he wisely held his peace. After a +brief and awkward pause, Mr. Belford rose, and pleading the calls of +business, went out, and the unhappy interview came to an end. + + * * * * * + +It was a strange room. Its belongings stranger still. A large square +chamber, with windows on three sides and a door and a fireplace on the +other. Just now the fireplace had fallen from its high estate and had +become a catch-all for the wrecks of much unpacking. There was a small +single bed, two chairs, and an indefinite number of tables. Impossible +to say how many, for they were half obscured by numberless things +scientific: microscopes, a retort, small furnace, two cameras, galvanic +battery, coils of wire and rubber tubing, magic lantern, books, +photographs, and papers; on a small desk a confused pile of papers; on +the walls a great number of pictures and photographs. + +The very den of a student of science. Hardly room to walk among the +wilderness of traps, boxes, and trunks. At the window, the young man, +just dressed, and taking a view of the mill and its new chimney. + +"Gad! how mad the fellow was over my little measurements. Wonder what it +all means? The girl's in trouble, the father has a grief, and the +clerk--I can make nothing of him. What matter? My duty is with my books, +that I may pursue pure science. The moment things become practical I +drop 'em." + +Then he turned and looked out of the next window. + +"Fine view of the river. I must have another try at it with the camera." + +He crossed the room, and standing in the bright morning sunshine, he +looked about to examine the other L that had been thrown out from the +back of the main building. + +"That's Alma's room, and the next is the clerk's, the chimney man. The +window is open, and the place looks as dark as a cave. I've a mind to +light it up." + +So saying he took a small hand mirror from a table near by. Holding it +in the full sunlight, he moved it slowly about till the dancing spot of +reflected light fell upon the open window and leaped in upon the +opposite wall of the room. The observer with steady hand moved the spot +of light about till he had probed the room, and found all it contained, +which was nothing save a bed and two chairs. + +"Applied science reports the man is fit for treason, spoils, and that +sort of thing. He has no pictures. His room is a sleeping den. The man +is a----Hallo! Steady there!" + +The door in the room opened, and the student of applied science turned +quickly away with his back to the wall beside his window. Cautiously +raising the mirror, he held it near the window in such a way that in it +he could see all that went on in the other room, without being himself +seen. + +Suddenly he saw something in the glass. Some one appeared at the window, +looked out as if watching for something, and then withdrew into the bare +little sleeping room. Then the figure in the mirror went to the bed and +carefully turned all the clothes back. The student of science watched +the mirror intently. The figure bent over the uncovered mattress and +quietly opened the sacking and took something out. It sat down on the +edge of the disordered bed and proceeded to examine the box or bundle, +whatever it might be, that it had found in the bed. + +Just here there was the sound of a distant door opening and closing. The +figure crouched low on the bed, as if fearing to be seen, and waited +till all was quiet again. Then it slowly opened the box or package, and +took out a folded paper. The student bent over the mirror with the +utmost interest. What did it mean? What would happen next? Nothing in +particular happened. The figure closed the box, returned it to its +hiding place in the bed, and then crept out of the range of reflected +vision. + +Why should the confidential clerk hide papers in his bed? What was the +nature of the documents? A strange affair, certainly, but it did not +concern him, and perhaps he had better drop the subject. He turned to +his books and papers, and for an hour or more was too much occupied with +them to heed aught else. + +Suddenly there was a brisk series of taps at his door, like this: + + - - -- - - -- -- - - -- -- + +"I'm here. Come in." + +Alma, the bright one entered. + +"What a room! Such disorder, Elmer." + +"Yes. It is quite a comfortable den. I've unpacked everything, and--mind +your steps--feel quite at home--thank you." + +"I should say as much. Do look at the dust. I must have Mary up here at +once." + +"Madam, I never allow any female person to touch my traps. Mary may make +the bed, but she must not sweep, nor dust, nor touch anything." + +"Oh! really. Then I'll go at once." + +"Better not." + +"Why?" + +"Because I've many things to show----" + +"Oh, Elmer! What is that--that queer thing on the table? May I look at +it?" + +"That's my new camera." + +"How stupid. I might have known that. Do you take pictures?" + +"Photos? Yes. Will you sit?" + +"Oh, dear, no. I hate photographs. It's so disagreeable to see oneself +staring with some impossible expression, and sitting in an impossible +palace, with a distant landscape and drapery curtains." + +"Then I'll take a view for you. Find a seat somewhere while I rig +things. See those two people sitting on the little bridge that crosses +the race beyond the mill? I'll photograph them without their +permission." + +Alma looked out of the window when Elmer had raised the curtain, but +declared she couldn't see anything. + +"They are very far off. Take the field glass, and you'll see them." + +Alma took the glass from the table, and looked out on the sunny +landscape. + +"I see what you mean, but I can't make out who they are, even with the +glass. It's a man and a woman, and that's as much as I can see." + +"You shall see them plain enough in a moment." + +So saying, Elmer placed a long brass telescope upon a stand by the open +window, and through it he examined the couple on the bridge. Meanwhile +Alma gazed round the room and examined its strange contents with the +greatest interest. + +The moment the focus of the glass was secured, Elmer hastily took the +little camera, and adjusting a slide in it from a table drawer, he +placed it before the telescope on the table and close to the eye hole. +Then, by throwing a black cloth over his head, he looked into it, turned +a screw or two, and in a moment had a negative of the distant couple. + +"Aren't you almost ready?" + +"In one moment, Alma. I must fix this first. I'll be right back." + +So saying he took the slide from the little camera, and went out of the +room into a dark closet in the entry. + +Alma waited patiently for a few moments, and then she took up the field +glass, and looked out of the window. Who could they be? They seemed to +be having a cosy time together; but beyond the fact that one figure was +a woman she could learn nothing. She wanted to take a look through the +telescope, but did not dare to move the little camera that stood before +it. + +"Here's the picture," said Elmer as he entered the room. + +Alma took the bit of glass he offered her, but declared she couldn't see +anything but a dirty spot on the glass. + +"That's the negative. Let me copy it, and then I'll throw it up with the +stereopticon." + +He selected another bit of glass from a box, and in a few minutes had it +prepared and the two put together and laid in the sun on the +window-seat. + +"What's in that iron box, Elmer?" + +"Nitrous oxide." + +"The same thing that the dentists use?" + +"Yes. Would you like to try a whiff? It's rather jolly, and will not +hurt you in the least." + +Elmer caught up a bit of rubber pipe, secured one end to the iron chest +and inserted the other in a mouthpiece having the proper inhalation and +exhalation valves. + +"Put that in your mouth for a moment." + +Alma, with beautiful confidence, put the tube in her mouth, and in a +moment her pretty head fell back against the back of the chair in deep +sleep. With wonderful speed and skill Elmer rolled a larger camera that +stood in a corner out into the centre of the room, ran in a slide, +adjusted the focus, and before the brief slumber passed had a negative +of the sleeping one. + +"Oh, how odd! What a queer sensation to feel yourself going and going, +off and off, till you don't know where you are!" + +"It is rather queer. I've often taken the gas myself--just for fun. Now, +Alma, if you will let down the curtains, and close the shutters, and +make the room dark, I'll light the lantern and show you the picture." + +Alma shut the blinds, drew down the curtains, and closed all the +shutters save one. + +"Won't it be too dark?" + +"No. It must be quite dark. You can stand here in the middle of the room +and look at that bit of bare wall between the windows. I left that space +clear for a screen." + +Alma eagerly took her place, and said with a laugh: + +"If this is the pursuit of pure science, it is very amusing. I'd like to +study science--in this way." + +"Yes, it is rather interesting----" + +"Oh, Elmer, it's pitch dark." + +"Never mind. Stand perfectly still and watch the wall. There--there's +the spot of light. Now I'll run in the positive." + +A round spot of white light fell on the unpapered wall, and then two +dusky shadows slid over it, vague, obscure, and gigantic. + +"There are your people. Now I'll adjust the focus. There--look." + +A heavy sob startled him. + +"Oh! It's that hateful Alice Green!" + +Elmer opened the door of the lantern, and the light streamed full upon +Alma. She was bathed in tears, and her shoulders, visible through her +light summer dress, shook with sobs. + +"What's the matter?" + +"Nothing! Oh, it's--nothing--let me--go----" + +With an impatient gesture she tried to brush the tears from her eyes, +and then, without a word, she hastily ran out of the room. + +The student of pure science was surprised beyond measure. What had +happened? What new blunder had he committed? With all his deep study of +things material he was ignorant of things emotional and sentimental. +This exhibition of anger and grief in his pretty cousin utterly +disconcerted him. He did not know what to do, nor what to think, and he +stood in the glare of his lantern for a moment or two in deep thought. + +Then he closed the lantern and turning round, examined the shadowy +picture thrown upon the wall. It represented a young man and a young +woman seated upon the wooden rail of the bridge in the open air, and in +most loving embrace. His arm was about her waist, and he was looking in +her face. His straw hat hid his features, but the face of the young +woman was turned toward the camera that had so perfectly mirrored them +both. She seemed to be a young and pretty girl in the more lowly walks +of life, and her lover seemed to be a gentleman. What a pity he hadn't +looked up! Who could he be? And she? Alma's remark plainly showed that +she at least knew the girl, and for some reason was hotly indignant with +her. + +Thinking he had made trouble enough already, Elmer took one more good +look at the picture, and then prepared to destroy it. Something about +the young man's hat struck him as familiar. It was a panama hat, and had +two ribbons wound round it in a fanciful manner that was not exactly +conventional. + +He silently opened a shutter, and the picture faded away. He drew up the +curtains and looked out on the bridge. The young couple had disappeared. +Poor innocents! They little knew how their pictures had been taken in +spite of themselves, and they little knew the tragic and terrible +consequences that were to flow from the stolen photograph so strangely +made. Elmer took the little slide from the lantern, and was on the point +of shivering it to fragments on the hearthstone, when he paused in deep +thought. Was it wise to destroy it? Had he not better preserve it? +Perhaps he could some day solve the mystery that hung about it, and find +out the cause of Alma's grief and anger. Perhaps he might help her; and +there came a softening about his heart that seemed both new and +wonderfully unscientific. + +Shortly after this the dinner bell rang, and he went down to the +dining-room. Alma sent word that she had a severe headache and could not +appear. Mr. Belford was already there, and he looked at Mr. Franklin +with an expression that made the young man uncomfortable in spite of +himself. Mr. Denny was unusually thoughtful and silent, and conversation +between the younger men was not particularly brilliant or entertaining. +At last the dreary meal was finished. Mr. Belford rose first and went +out into the hall. Mr. Franklin followed him, and saw something that +quite took his breath away. + +There lay the hat of the photograph, double ribbons and all. Mr. Belford +quietly took it up and put it on, and it fitted him perfectly. Elmer +stopped abruptly and looked at the man with the utmost interest. The +confidential, the chimney builder paid no attention, and quickly passed +on out of the front door. + +"E. Franklin, you have made a discovery. The pursuit of pure science +never showed anything half so interesting as this. You had better raise +a cloud on the subject. Gad! It's cloudy enough already!" + +This to himself as he slowly went up stairs to his room. Selecting a +pipe, he filled it, and finding a comfortable seat, he fired up and +prepared to examine mentally the events of the day. + +"It was the confidential, making love to some village beauty, supposed +to be 'Green,' by name, if not by nature. Alma loves him. That's bad. +Perhaps she's engaged to him. Has she a ring? Yes--saw it the other day. +The affair is cloudy--and--Gad! Blessed if I don't keep that +lantern-slide! It may be of use some day. Come in." + +This last was in response to a knock at the door. Mr. Belford entered, +panama hat with two ribbons in hand. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Franklin. I thought I might find you here.". + +"Yes, I'm at leisure. What can I do for you? Smoke?" + +"No; I can't to-day. The fact is, I've a bad tooth, and smoking troubles +it." + +"Indeed? Let me see it. I'm a bit of a dentist." + +"Are you? That's fortunate, for it aches sadly, and our nearest dentist +is five miles away." + +"Sit right here by the window, where I can have a good light." + +Mr. Belford, a physical coward, could not bear pain; and though he was +unwilling to be under obligations to one whom he considered a mere boy, +he sat down in the proffered chair, and opened his mouth dutifully. + +"Ah, yes--_dentes sapentia_. It's quite gone. Shall I take it out for +you?" + +"Will it be painful?" + +"No. I'll give you nitrous oxide. Without it it might be very painful, +for the tooth is much broken down." + +Mr. Belford hesitated. Had he better place himself so utterly at the +mercy of this young man? + +"It will pass off in a moment, and leave no ill effects behind. You had +better take it." + +"Well, I will; but make it very mild, for I am afraid of these +new-fangled notions." + +"You need have no fear," said Elmer, bringing up his iron box of nitrous +oxide, and selecting a pair of forceps from the mass of instruments in +one of his trunks. + +"It's very odd. It's the merest chance that I happened to have a pair of +forceps. Are you ready now? Put this tube in your mouth, and breathe +easily and naturally." + +The patient leaned back in the chair, and the amateur stood silently +watching him. + +"It's a fearful risk, but I'm going to try it. I succeeded with Alma, +and I fancy I can with this fool. He was a fool to run right into my +arms in this fashion. No wonder his wisdom tooth was rotten. I'll have +it out in a moment." + +All this to himself. The patient closed his eyes, and fell into a deep +sleep. + +"Take it strong. It will not hurt you, and I must keep you quiet till +the deed is done." + +High science was to be brought to bear upon rascality, and he must move +cautiously and quickly. The instant the patient was unconscious, Elmer +bent over him and turned back his coat, and from the inside pocket he +drew forth a folded paper. He had caught a glimpse of it when he looked +in the man's mouth, and on the spur of the moment he had conceived and +put into practice this bold stroke of applied science. Making the man +comfortable, and giving him a little air with the gas, he opened the +paper and spread it wide open before a pile of books in the full +sunlight. The patient stirred uneasily. With a breathless motion Elmer +plied him with more gas, and he sighed softly and slumbered deeper than +ever. With a spring he reached the camera, rolled it up before the +paper, and set in a new slide. It copied the paper with terrible +certainty, and then, without reading it, Elmer folded the paper up again +and restored it to his patient's pocket. + +The patient revived. He put his hand in his mouth. The tooth was still +there. + +"Why, you didn't touch it?" + +"No. I was delayed a bit. Take the gas again." + +The man submitted, and inhaled more gas. At the instant he slumbered the +forceps were deftly plied and the tooth removed. Bathing the man's face +with water, the young dentist watched him closely till he revived again. + +"Do you feel better?" + +"Better! Why, I'm not hurt! Is it really out?" + +"Yes. There it is in the washbowl." + +"You did very well, young man. Excellently. I'm sure I'm much obliged." + +"You're welcome," replied Mr. Franklin. "It was a trifling affair." + +Repeating his thanks, the visitor put on his hat with its two ribbons +and retired. + +For an hour or more the youthful son of science worked over his new +negatives, and then he quietly closed the shutters and lighted his +stereopticon. The first picture he threw upon the wall greatly pleased +him. With half-parted lips, a placid smile, and closed eyes, the +sleeping Alma lived in shadowy beauty before him. + +"Queer such a charming girl should belong to such a fool!" + +Not choice language for a son of pure-eyed science, but history is +history, and the truth must be told. + +"Now for the paper." + +He took Alma's stolen picture from the lantern, and inserted in its +place a positive copy of the paper he had captured from her lover. +Suddenly there flashed upon the wall a document of the most startling +and extraordinary character. He read it through several times before he +could bring himself to understand the peculiar nature of the important +discovery he had made. Long and earnestly he gazed upon the gigantic +writing on the wall, and then he slowly opened one of the shutters, and +the magic writing faded away in the rosy light of the setting sun. + +A moment after, the tea-bell rang. This over, young Mr. Franklin said +he, must go out for his evening constitutional. He wished to be alone. +The events of the day, the discoveries he had made, and, more than all, +Alma's grief and silence at the supper-table, disturbed him. He wished +more air, more freedom to think over these things and to devise some +plan for future action. + +Alma. What of her? Was he not growing to like her--perhaps love her? And +she was engaged to that--that--he could not think of him with patience. +The chimney, the two in the photo, and the strange paper: what did they +all mean? Why were both father and daughter in such evident distress? He +pondered these things as he walked through the shadowy lanes, and then, +about eight o'clock, he returned, in a measure composed and serene. + +There was a light in the parlor, and he went in and found Alma alone. + +"Oh, Elmer! I'm glad you've come. It's very lonely here. Father has +gone to bed quite ill, and Lawrence asked me to sit up till he +returned. He's gone down to the village on some business. I can't see +why he should. The stores are closed and the last train has gone." + +She made a place for him on the sofa, and he sat down beside her. For +some time they talked indifferently upon various matters--the weather, +the heat of the day, and like trivialities. + +Suddenly she turned upon him, and said, with ill-suppressed excitement: + +"What did you do with it, Elmer?" + +"Do with what?" + +"The picture." + +"Oh, yes--the lantern slide. I wish I had never made it. It's up stairs +in my room." + +"You didn't know it was Alice Green?" + +"No. How should I? I did not know who either of the people was till the +picture was thrown upon the wall." + +"Do you know now--know both of them, I mean?" + +"Yes--I think I do. One was Mr.----" + +"Yes, Elmer, you may as well say it. It was Lawrence." + +Elmer could think of nothing to say, and wisely said nothing. After a +brief pause Alma said slowly, as if talking to herself: + +"It was a cruel thing to do." + +"I did not mean to be cruel." + +"Oh, my dear--cousin, don't think of it in that way. It was Lawrence who +was so cruel." + +"Yes. It was not very gentlemanly; but perhaps he does not care for--for +this person." + +"He does. The picture was only confirmation of what I had heard before. +I've done with him," she added in a sort of suppressed desperation. "I'm +going to break our engagement this very night. I know it will nearly +break my heart, and father will be very angry; but, Elmer, come nearer; +let me tell you about it. I'm afraid of him. He has such an evil eye, +and you remember the chimney--the day you came--I thought he would kill +you, he was so angry." + +Evidently she was in sore trouble. Even her language was marked by doubt +and difficulty. + +"Advise me, Elmer. Tell me what to do. I hardly know which way to turn, +and I'm so lonely. Father is busy every day, and I can't talk to him. +And Lawrence--I dare not trust him." + +Here she began to cry softly, and hid her face in her handkerchief. The +son of science was perplexed. What should he do or say? All this was new +to him. That a young and pretty girl should appeal to him with such +earnestness disconcerted him, and he did not know how to act. A problem +in triangulation or knotty question in physics would have charmed him +and braced him up for any work. This was so new and so peculiar that he +said, "Don't cry, cousin," and repented it at once as a silly speech. + +"I must. It does me good." + +"Then I would." + +Thereupon they both laughed heartily and felt better. He recovered his +wits at once. + +"Do you think you really love him?" + +The man of science is himself again. + +"No, I don't." + +"Then--well, it's hardly my place to say it." + +"Then break the engagement. That's what you mean. I intend to do so; +but, Elmer, I wish you could be here with me." + +"It would be impossible. Oh! I've an idea." + +"Have you? There! I knew you would help me. You are so bright, Elmer, +and so kind----" + +He nipped her enthusiasm in the bud. + +"Do you think you could telegraph to me from your pocket?" + +"I don't know what you mean." + +"You know the letters now perfectly, and if you had your hand on an +armature, you could send off messages quickly?" + +"Yes. You know I learned the alphabet in one day, and it's nearly a +week since you put up that line to my room. Think how we have talked +with it already. And you remember the tea table, when the Lawsons and +the Stebbens were here. Didn't I answer all your questions about Minna +Lawson while I was talking with her by tapping on the table with a +spoon?" + +"Yes. So far so good; but now I'm going to try a most dangerous and +difficult piece of scientific work, and you must help me. My plan is for +you to keep in telegraphic communication with me while the interview +goes on. Then, if he is insulting or troublesome, you can call me." + +"How bright of you, Elmer. If Lawrence had been half so good and kind +and bright--if he knew half as much--I might have loved him longer." + +"Wait a bit, and I'll get the lines." + +"May I go too?" + +"Oh, yes; come." + +The two went softly up the hall stairs, through the long entry to the L, +and into Elmer's room. They set the lamp on a table, and Elmer dragged +forth from the scientific confusion of the place a collection of +telegraphic apparatus of all kinds. + +"There's the battery. That I'll keep here. There is the recording +instrument. That I'll keep here also. Now you want a small armature to +open and close the current. Wait a bit! I'd better make one." + +Alma sat down on a box, and her new Lohengrin set to work with shears +and file to make something that would answer for an armature and still +be small enough to hide in the hand. Cutting off two small pieces of +insulated copper wire, he bound them together side by side at one end. +The loose ends he separated by crowding a bit of rubber between them, +and then with the file and his knife he removed a part of the insulating +covering till the bright copper showed at the tips of each wire. + +"There! You can hide that in the pocket of your dress, or hold it in +your hand even. When you wish to close the circuit, pinch the wires, and +they will touch each other. When you withdraw the pressure the rubber +will push them apart." + +Alma declared she could do it easily, and the armature having been +connected with the wires and the battery, they both prepared to go to +the parlor. + +Down the stairs they crept, slowly unwinding two delicate coils of +insulated wire as they went, and pushing them back against the wall well +out of sight. When they came to the mats Alma lifted them up, and Elmer +laid the wires down, and then the mats covered them from sight. + +"Now, you sit here, in a comfortable chair, and hide the wires in the +folds of your dress. I'll lead them off over the carpet behind you, and +unless the----Lawrence is brighter than I think he is, he'll not find +them." + +These mysterious operations were hardly completed before the door bell +rang and Lawrence came in. He did not seem particularly pleased to find +Mr. Franklin sitting up with Alma, and the meeting was not very cordial. +After a few unimportant remarks Mr. Franklin said that he must retire. + +"I'd like to know, miss, what that puppy said to you. He's been here all +the evening, I dare say." + +"He has, Lawrence; but I will not have my friends spoken of in that +way." + +"Your friends indeed! What do you intend to do about it?" + +Meanwhile her hand, persistently kept in her pocket, nervously moved the +electric armature, and a sudden twinge of pain startled her. Her finger, +caught between the wires, felt the shock of a returning current. +Suddenly the pain flashed again, and she understood it. Elmer was +replying to her. She forced herself to read his words by the pain the +wires caused her, and she spelled out: + +"Keep cool. Don't fear him." + +"Seems to me you're precious silent, miss." + +"One might well keep silence while you use such language as you do, +Lawrence Belford." + +"Who's a better right?" + +"No man has a right not to be a gentleman, and as for your right, I have +decided to withdraw it." + +"What do you mean?" he cried in sudden anger. + +She drew her hand out of her pocket, slowly took off her engagement +ring, and said, + +"That." + +"Oh! We'll have none of that. You may put your ring on again." + +"I shall never wear it again." + +"Yes, you will." + +"I shall not." + +"Look here, Miss Denny. We'll have no nonsense. You are going to marry +me next week. I suppose you know that mortgage is to be foreclosed on +Monday, and you and your father will be beggars. I know how to stop all +this, and I can do it. Marry me, and go to New York with me on +Wednesday, and the mortgage will be withdrawn." + +"We may find the will before that." + +"Oh! You may, you may. You and your father have been searching for that +will these ten years. You haven't found it yet, and you won't." + +Alma under any ordinary circumstances would have quailed before this +man. As it was, those trails of copper wire down her dress kept her +busy. She rapidly sent off through them nearly all that was said, and +her knight of the battery sat up stairs copying it off alone in his +room, and almost swearing with anger and excitement. + +Suddenly the messages stopped. He listened sharply at the door. Not a +sound. The old house was as still as a grave. Several minutes passed, +and nothing came. What had happened? Had he cut the wires? Had Alma +fainted? Suddenly the sounder spoke out sharp and clear in the silent +room: + +"Elmer, come!" + +He seized a revolver from the bureau, and thrusting it into his pocket, +tore off the white strip of paper that had rolled out of the instrument, +and with it in his hand he went quickly down stairs. He opened the door +without knocking, and advanced into the middle of the room. + +The moment he entered, Alma sprang up from her seat, pulling out the two +wires as she did so, and throwing her arm about the young man, she cried +out in an agony of fear and shame: + +"Oh, Elmer, Elmer! Take me away! Take me to my father!" + +He supported her with his right arm, and turned to face her assailant +with the crumbled ribbon of paper still in his hand. + +"What does this mean, sir? Have you been ill treating my cousin?" + +"Go to bed, boy. It's very late for school children to be up." + +"Your language is insulting, sir. I repeat it. What have you said or +done to Miss Denny?" + +"Oh! Come away! come away, Elmer!" + +"None of your business, you puppy." + +"There is no need to ask what you said, sir. I know every word and have +made a copy of it." + +"Ah! Listening, were you?" + +"No, sir. Miss Denny has told me. Do you see those wires? They will +entangle you yet and trip you up." + +"Come away, Elmer. Come away." + +"For the present I will retire, sir; but, mark me, your game is nearly +up." + +"By, by, children. Good night. Remember your promise, Miss Denny. The +carriage will be all ready." + +Without heeding this last remark, Elmer, with his cousin on his arm, +withdrew. As they closed the door the telegraph wires caught in the +carpet and broke. The man saw them, and picking one up, he examined it +closely. + +Suddenly he dropped it and turned ashen pale. With all his bravado, he +quailed before those slender wires upon the carpet. He did not +understand them. He guessed they might be some kind of telegraph, but +beyond this everything was vague and mysterious, and they filled him +with guilty alarm and terror. + + CHARLES BARNARD. + + + + +FROM NORMANDY TO THE PYRENEES. + + +The other day, before the first fire of winter, when the deepening dusk +had compelled me to close my book and wheel my chair closer, I indulged +in a retrospect. The objects of it were not far distant, and yet they +seemed already to glow with the mellow tints of the days that are no +more. In the crackling flame the last remnant of the summer appeared to +shrink up and vanish. But the flicker of its destruction made a sort of +fantastic imagery, and in the midst of the winter fire the summer +sunshine seemed to glow. It lit up a series of visible memories. + + + + +I. + + +One of the first was that of a perfect day on the coast of Normandy--a +warm, still Sunday in the early part of August. From my pillow, on +waking, I could look at a strip of blue sea and a section of white +cliff. I observed that the sea had never been so brilliant, and that the +cliff was shining like the coast of Paros. I rose and came forth with +the sense that it was the finest day of summer, and that one ought to do +something uncommon by way of keeping it. At Etretal it was uncommon to +take a walk; the custom of the country is to lie all day upon the pebbly +strand watching, as we should say in America, your fellow boarders. Your +leisurely stroll, in a scanty sheet, from your bathing cabin into the +water, and your trickling progress from the water back into your cabin, +form, as a general thing, the sum total of your peregrination. For the +rest you remain horizontal, contemplating the horizon. To mark the day +with a white stone, therefore, it was quite sufficient to stretch my +legs. So I climbed the huge grassy cliff which shuts in the little bay +on the right (as you lie on the beach, head upward), and gained the +bleak white chapel of Notre Dame de la Garde, which a lady told me she +was sure was the original of Matthew Arnold's "Little Gray Church on the +Windy Hill." This is very likely; but the little church to-day was not +gray; neither was the hill windy. + +I had occasion, by the time I reached the summit, to wish it had been. +Deep, silent sunshine filled the air, and the long grass of the downs +stood up in the light without a tremor. The downs at Etretal are +magnificent, and the way they stretched off toward Dieppe, with their +shining levels and their faintly-shaded dells, was in itself an +irresistible invitation. On the land side they have been somewhat +narrowed by cultivation; the woods, and farms, and grain fields here and +there creep close enough to the edge of the cliff almost to see the +shifting of the tides at its base. But cultivation in Normandy is itself +picturesque, and the pedestrian rarely need resent its encroachments. +Neither walls nor hedges or fences are anywhere visible; the whole land +lies open to the breezes and to his curious footsteps. This universal +absence of barriers gives an air of vastness to the landscape, so that +really, in a little French province, you have more of the feeling of +being in a big country than on our own huge continent, which bristles so +unconsciously with prohibitory rails and stone-piles. Norman farmhouses, +too, with their mossy roofs and their visible beams making all kinds of +triangles upon the ancient plaster of their walls, are very delightful +things. Hereabouts they have always a dark little wood close beside +them; often a _chênaie_, as the term is--a fantastic little grove of +tempest-tossed oaks. The trees look as if, some night, when the +sea-blasts were howling their loudest and their boughs were tossing +most wildly, the tumult had suddenly been stilled and they had stopped +short, each in the attitude into which the storm was twisting it. The +only thing the storm can do with them now is to blow them straight. The +long, indented coast line had never seemed to me so charming. It +stretched away into the light haze of the horizon, with such lovely +violet spots in its caves and hollows, and such soft white gleams on its +short headlands--such exquisite gradations of distance and such +capricious interruptions of perspective--that one could only say that +the land was really trying to smile as hard as the sea. The smile of the +sea was a positive simper. Such a glittering and twinkling, such a +softness and blueness, such tiny little pin-points of foam, and such +delicate little wrinkles of waves--all this made the ocean look like a +flattered portrait. + +The day I speak of was a Sunday, and there were to be races at Fécamp, +ten miles away. The agreeable thing was, of course, to walk to Fécamp, +over the grassy downs. I walked and walked, over the levels and the +dells, having land and ocean quite to myself. Here and there I met a +shepherd, lying flat on his stomach in the sun, while his sheep, in +extreme dishabille (shearing time being recent), went huddling in front +of me as I approached. Far below, on the blue ocean, like a fly on a +table of lapis, crawled a little steamer, carrying people from Etretal +to the races. I seemed to go much faster, yet the steamer got to Fécamp +before me. But I stopped to gossip with a shepherd on a grassy hillside, +and to admire certain little villages which are niched in small, +transverse, seaward-sloping valleys. The shepherd told me that he had +been farm-servant to the same master for five-and-thirty years--ever +since the age of ten; and that for thirty-five summers he had fed his +flock upon those downs. I don't know whether his sheep were tired of +their diet, but he professed himself very tired of his life. I remarked +that in fine weather it must be charming, and he observed, with +humility, that to thirty-five summers there went several rainy days. + +The walk to Fécamp would be purely delightful if it were not for the +_fonds_. The _fonds_ are the transverse valleys just mentioned--the +channels, for the most part, of small water-courses which discharge +themselves into the sea. The downs subside, precipitately, to the level +of the beach, and then slowly lift their grassy shoulders on the other +side of the gully. As the cliffs are of immense height, these +indentations are profound, and drain off a little of the exhilaration of +the too elastic pedestrian. The first _fond_ trike him as delightfully +picturesque, and he is down the long slope on one side and up the +gigantic hump on the other before he has time to feel hot. But the +second is greeted with that tempered _empressement_ with which you bow +in the street to an acquaintance with whom you have met half an hour +before; the third is a stale repetition; the fourth is decidedly one too +many, and the fifth is sensibly exasperating. The _fonds_, in a word, +are very tiresome. It was, if I remember rightly, in the bottom of the +last and widest of the series that I discovered the little town of +Yport. Every little fishing village on the Norman coast has, within the +last ten years, set up in business as a watering-place; and, though one +might fancy that Nature had condemned Yport to modest obscurity, it is +plain that she has no idea of being out of the fashion. But she is a +miniature imitation of her rivals. She has a meagre little wood behind +her and an evil-smelling beach, on which bathing is possible only at the +highest tide. At the scorching mid-day hour at which I inspected her she +seemed absolutely empty, and the ocean, beyond acres of slippery +seaweed, looked very far away. She has everything that a properly +appointed _station de bains_ should have, but everything is on a +Lilliputian scale. The whole place looked like a huge Nüremburg toy. +There is a diminutive hotel, in which, properly, the head waiter should +be a pigmy and the chambermaid a sprite, and beside it there is a +_Casino_ on the smallest possible scale. Everything about the _Casino_ +is so harmoniously undersized that it seems a matter of course that the +newspapers in the reading-room should be printed in the very finest +type. Of course there is a reading-room, and a dancing-room, and a +_café_, and a billiard-room, with a bagatelle board instead of a table, +and a little terrace on which you may walk up and down with very short +steps. I hope the prices are as tiny as everything else, and I suspect, +indeed, that Yport honestly claims, not that she is attractive, but that +she is cheap. + +I toiled up the perpendicular cliff again, and took my way over the +grass, for another hour, to Fécamp, where I found the peculiarities of +Yport directly reversed. The place is a huge, straggling village, seated +along a wide, shallow bay, and adorned, of course, with the classic +_Casino_ and the row of hotels. But all this is on a very brave scale, +though it is not manifest that the bravery of Fécamp has won a victory; +and, indeed, the local attractions did not strike me as irresistible. A +pebbly beach of immense length, fenced off from the town by a grassy +embankment; a _Casino_ of a bold and unsociable aspect; a principal inn, +with an interminable brown façade, suggestive somehow of an asylum or an +almshouse--such are the most striking features of this particular +watering-place. There are magnificent cliffs on each side of the bay, +but, as the French say, without impropriety, it is the devil to get to +them. There was no one in the hotel, in the Casino, or on the beach; the +whole town being in the act of climbing the further cliff, to reach the +downs on which the races were to be held. The green hillside was black +with trudging spectators and the long sky line was fretted with them. +When I say there was no one at the inn, I forget the gentleman at the +door who informed me positively that he would give me no breakfast; he +seemed to have staid at home from the races expressly to give himself +this pleasure. But I went further and fared better, and procured a meal +of homely succulence, in an unfashionable tavern, in a back street, +where the wine was sound, the cutlets tender, and the serving-maid rosy. +Then I walked along--for a mile, it seemed--through a dreary, gray +_grand rue_, where the sunshine was hot, the odors portentous, and the +doorsteps garnished with aged fishwives, retired from business, whose +plaited linen coifs looked picturesquely white, and their faces +picturesquely brown. I inspected the harbor and its goodly basin--with +nothing in it--and certain pink and blue houses, which surround it, and +then, joining the last stragglers, I clambered up the side of the cliff +to the downs. + +The races had already begun, and the ring of spectators was dense. I +picked out some of the smallest people, looked over their heads, and saw +several young farmers, in parti-colored jackets, and very red in the +face, bouncing up and down on handsome cart-horses. Satiated at last +with this diversion, I turned away and wandered down the hill again; and +after strolling through the streets of Fécamp, and gathering not a +little of the wayside entertainment that a seaport and fishing town +always yields, I repaired to the Abbey church, a monument of some +importance, and almost as great an object of pride in the town as the +Casino. The Abbey of Fécamp was once a very rich and powerful +establishment, but nothing remains of it now save its church and its +_trappistine_. The church, which is for the most part early Gothic, is +very stately and picturesque, and the _trappistine_, which is a +distilled liquor of the _Chartreuse_ family, is much prized by people +who take a little glass after their coffee. By the time I had done with +the Abbey, the townsfolk had slid _en masse_ down the cliff again, the +yellow afternoon had come, and the holiday takers, before the +wine-shops, made long and lively shadows. I hired a sort of two-wheeled +gig, without a board, and drove back to Etretal in the rosy stage of +evening. The gig dandled me up and down in a fashion of which I had been +unconscious since I left off baby-clothes; but the drive, through the +charming Norman country, over roads which lay among the peaceful meadows +like paths amid a park, was altogether delightful. The sunset gave a +deeper mellowness to the standing crops, and in the grassiest corner of +the wayside villages the young men and maidens were dancing like the +figures in vignette illustrations of classic poets. + + + + +II. + + +You may say there is nothing in this very commonplace adventure to +sentimentalize about, and that when one plucks sentimentally a brand +from the burning one should pick out a more valuable one. I certainly +call it a picked day, at any rate, when I went to breakfast at St. +Jouin, at the beautiful Ernestine's. Don't be alarmed; if I was just now +too tame, I am not turning wild. The beautiful Ernestine is not my +especial beauty, but every one's, and to contemplate her charms you have +only to order breakfast. They shine forth the more brilliantly in +proportion as your order is liberal, and Ernestine is beautiful +according as your bill is large. In this case she comes and smiles, +really very handsomely, around your table, and you feel some hesitation +in accusing so well-favored a person of extortion. She keeps an inn at +the end of a lane which diverges from the high road between Etretal and +Havre, and it is an indispensable feature of your "station" at the +former place that you choose some fine morning and seek her hospitality. +She has been a celebrity these twenty years, and is no longer a simple +maiden in her flower; but twenty years, if they have diminished her +early bloom, have richly augmented her _museé_. This is a collection of +all the verses and sketches, the autographs, photographs, monographs, +and trinkets presented to the amiable hostess by admiring tourists. It +covers the walls of her sitting-room and fills half a dozen big albums +which you look at while breakfast is being prepared, just as if you were +awaiting dinner in genteel society. Most Frenchmen of the day whom one +has heard of appear to have called at St. Jouin, and to have left their +_homages_. Each of them has turned a compliment with pen or pencil, and +you may see in a glass case on the parlor wall what Alexandre Dumas, +Fils, thought of the landlady's nose, and how several painters measured +her ankles. + +Of course you must make this excursion in good company, and I affirm +that I was in the very best. The company prefers, equally of course, to +have its breakfast in the orchard in front of the house; which, if the +repast is good, will make it seem better still, and if it is poor, will +carry off its poorness. Clever innkeepers should always make their +victims (in tolerable weather) eat in the garden. I forget whether +Ernestine's breakfast was intrinsically good or bad, but I distinctly +remember enjoying it, and making everything welcome. Everything, that +is, save the party at the other table--the Paris actresses and the +American gentlemen. The combination of these two classes of persons, +individually so delightful, results in certain phenomena which seem less +in harmony with appleboughs and summer breezes than with the gas lamps +and thick perfumes of a _cabinet particulier_, and yet it was +characteristic of this odd mixture of things that Mlle. Ernestine, +coming to chat with her customers, should bear a beautiful infant on her +arm, and smile with artless pride on being assured of its filial +resemblance to herself. She looked decidedly handsome as she caressed +this startling attribute of quiet spinsterhood. + +St. Jouin is close to the sea and to the finest cliffs in the world. One +of my companions, who had laden the carriage with his painting traps, +went off into a sunny meadow to take the portrait of a windmill, and I, +choosing the better portion, wandered through a little green valley with +the other. Ten minutes brought us to the edge of the cliffs, which at +this point of the coast are simply sublime. I had been thinking the +white sea-walls of Etretal the finest thing conceivable in this way, but +the huge red porphoritic-looking masses of St. Jouin have an even +grander character. I have rarely seen anything more picturesque. They +are strange, fantastic, out of keeping with the country, and for some +rather arbitrary reason suggested to me a Spanish or even African +landscape. Certain sun-scorched precipices in Spanish Sierras must have +very much the same warmth of tone and desolation of attitude. A very +picturesque feature of the cliffs of St. Jouin is that they are double +in height, as one may say. Falling to an immense depth, they encounter a +certain outward ledge, or terrace, where they pause and play a dozen +fantastic tricks, such as piling up rocks into the likeness of needles +and watch-towers; then they plunge again, and in another splendid sweep +descend to the beach. There was something very impressive in the way +their evil brows, looking as if they were all stained with blood and +rust, were bent upon the blue expanse of the sleeping sea. + + + + +III. + + +In a month of beautiful weather at Etretal, every day was not an +excursion, but every day seemed indeed a picked day. For that matter, as +I lay on the beach watching the procession of the easy-going hours, I +took a good many mental excursions. The one, perhaps, on which I +oftenest started was a comparison between French manners, French habits, +French types, and those of my native land. These comparisons are not +invidious; I don't conclude against one party and in favor of the other; +as the French say, _je constate_ simply. The French people about me were +"spending the summer" just as I had so often seen my fellow countrymen +spend it, and it seemed to me, as it had seemed to me at home, that this +operation places men and women under a sort of monstrous magnifying +glass. The human figure has a higher relief in the country than in town, +and I know of no place where psychological studies prosper so as at the +seaside. I shall not pretend to relate my observations in the order in +which they occurred to me (or indeed to relate them in full at all); but +I may say that one of the foremost was to this effect--that the summer +question, for every one, had been more easily settled than it usually is +at home. The solution of the problem of where to go had not been a +thin-petalled rose, plucked from among particularly sharp-pointed +thorns. People presented themselves with a calmness and freshness very +different from the haggard legacy of that fevered investigation which +precedes the annual exodus of the American citizen and his family. This +impression, with me, rests perhaps on the fact that most Frenchwomen +turned of thirty--the average wives and mothers--are so comfortably fat. +I have never seen such massive feminine charms as among the mature +_baigneuses_ of Etratal. The lean and desiccated person into whom a +dozen years of matrimony so often converts the blooming American girl +has no apparent correlative in the French race. A majestic plumpness +flourished all around me--the plumpness of triple chins and deeply +dimpled hands. I mused upon it, and I concluded that it was the result +of the best breakfasts and dinners in the world. It was the corpulence +of ladies who are thoroughly well fed, and who never walk a step that +they can spare. The assiduity with which the women of America measure +the length of our democratic pavements is doubtless a factor in their +frequent absence of redundancy of outline. As a "regular boarder" at the +Hotel Blanquet--pronounced by Anglo-Saxon visitors Blanket--I found +myself initiated into the mysteries of the French dietary system. I +assent to the common tradition that the French are a temperate people, +so long as it is understood in this sense--that they eat no more than +they want to. But they want to eat so much! Their capacity strikes me as +enormous, and we ourselves, if we are less regulated, are certainly much +more slender consumers. + +The American breakfast has, I believe, long been a subject of irony to +the foreign observer; but the American breakfast is an ascetic meal +compared with the French _déjeuner à la fourchette_. The latter, indeed, +is simply a dinner without soup; it differs neither generically nor +specifically from the evening repast. If it excludes soup, it includes +eggs, prepared in a hundred forms; and if it proscribes champagne, it +admits beer in foaming pitchers, so that the balance is fairly +preserved. I think it is rarely that an American will not feel a certain +sympathetic heaviness in the reflection that a French family that sits +down at half past eleven to fish and entrées and roasts, to asparagus +and beans, to salad and dessert, and cheese and coffee, proposes to do +exactly the same thing at dinner time. But we may be sure at any rate +that the dinner will be as good as the breakfast, and that the breakfast +has nothing to fear from prospective comparison with the dinner; and we +may further reflect that in a country where eating is a peculiarly +unalloyed pleasure it is natural that this pleasure should be prolonged +and reiterated. Nothing is more noticeable among the French than their +superior intelligence in dietary matters; every one seems naturally a +judge, a dilettante. They have analyzed tastes and savors to a finer +point than we; they are aware of differences and relations of which we +take no heed. Observe a Frenchman of any age and of any station (I have +been quite as much struck with it in the very young men as in the old) +as he orders his breakfast or his dinner at a Parisian restaurant, and +you will perceive that the operation is much more solemn than it is apt +to be in New York or in London. (In London, indeed, it is intellectually +positively brutal.) Monsieur has, in a word, a certain ideal for that +particular repast, and it will make a difference in his happiness +whether the kidneys, for instance, of a certain style, are chopped to +the ultimate or only to the penultimate smallness. His directions and +admonitions to the waiter are therefore minute and exquisite, and +eloquently accentuated by the pressure of thumb and forefinger; and it +must be added that the imagination of the waiter is usually quite worthy +of the refined communion thus opened to it. + +This subtler sense of quality is observable even among those classes in +which in other countries it is generally forestalled by a depressing +consciousness on the subject of quantity. Watch your Parisian porter and +his wife at their mid-day meal, as you pass up and down stairs. They are +not satisfying nature upon green tea and potatoes; they are seated +before a meal which has been reasoned out, which, on its modest scale, +is served in courses, and has a beginning, a middle, and an end. I will +not say that the French sense of comfort is confined to the philosophy +of nutrition, but it is certainly higher at this point (and perhaps one +other) than it is elsewhere. French people must have a good dinner and a +good bed; but they are willing that the bed should be stationed and the +dinner be eaten in the most unpleasant neighborhoods. Your porter and +his wife dine grandly and sleep soft in their lodge, but their lodge is +in all probability a fetid black hole, five feet square, in which, in +England or in America, people of their talents would never consent to +live. French people consent to live in the dark, to huddle together, to +forego privacy, and to let bad smells grow great among them. They have +an accursed passion for coquettish furniture: for cold, brittle chairs, +for tables with scolloped edges, for ottomans without backs, for +fireplaces muffled in plush and fringe and about as cheerful as a +festooned hearse. A French bedroom is a bitter mockery--a ghastly +attempt to serve two masters which succeeds in being agreeable to +neither. It is a thing of traps and delusions, constructed on the +assumption that it is inelegant to be known to wash or to sleep, and yet +pervaded with suggestions of uncleanness compared with which a +well-wrung bathing sponge, well _en evidence_, is a delightful symbol of +purity. This comes of course from that supreme French quality, the +source of half the charm of the French mind as well of all its dryness, +the genius for economy. It is wasting a room to let it be a bedroom +alone; so it must be tricked out as an ingeniously contrived +sitting-room, and ends by being (in many cases) insufferable both by +night and by day. But allowing all weight to these latter reflections, +it is still very possible that the French have the better part. If you +are well fed, you can perhaps afford to be ill lodged; whereas, I doubt +whether enjoyment of the most commodious apartments is compatible with +inanition and dyspepsia. + + + + +IV. + + +If I had not cut short my mild retrospect by these possibly milder +generalizations, I should have touched lightly upon some of the social +phenomena of which the little beach at Etretal was the scene. I shall +have narrated that the French, at the seaside, are not "sociable" as +Americans affect to be in a similar situation, and I should subjoin that +at Etretal it was very well on the whole that they were not. The +immeasurably greater simplicity of composition of American society makes +sociability with us a comparatively untaxed virtue; but anything like +an equal exercise of it in France would be attended with alarming perils +and inconveniences. Sociability (in the American sense of the word) in +any aristocratic country would indeed be very much like an attempt to +establish visiting relations between birds and fishes. At Etretal no +making of acquaintance was observable; people went about in compact, +cohesive groups, of natural formation, governed doubtless, internally, +by humane regulation, but presenting to the world an impenetrable +defensive front. These groups usually formed a solid phalanx about two +or three young girls, compressed into the centre, the preservation of +whose innocence was their chief solicitude. Here, doubtless, the groups +were acting wisely, for with half a dozen _cocottes_, in scarlet +petticoats, scattered over the sunny, harmless looking beach, what were +mammas and duennas to do? In order that there should be a greater number +of approachable-irreproachable young girls in France there must first be +a smaller number of _cocottes_. It is not impossible, indeed, that if +the approachable-irreproachable young ladies were more numerous, the +_cocottes_ would be less numerous. If by some ingenious sumptuary +enactment the latter class could be sequestrated or relegated to the +background for a certain period--say ten years--the latter might +increase and multiply, and quite, in vulgar parlance, get the start of +it. + +And yet after all this is a rather superficial reflection, for the +excellent reason that the very narrow peep at life allowed to young +French girls is not regarded, either by the young girls themselves or by +those who have their felicity most at heart, as a grave privation. The +case is not nearly so hard as it would be with us, for there is this +immense difference between the lot of the _jeune fille_ and her American +sister, that the former may as a general thing be said to be certain to +marry. "Ay, to marry ill," the Anglo-Saxon objector may reply. But the +objection is precipitate; for if French marriages are almost always +arranged, it must be added that they are in the majority of cases +arranged well. Therefore, if a _jeune fille_ is for three or four years +tied with a very short rope and compelled to browse exclusively upon the +meagre herbage which sprouts in the maternal shadow, she has at least +the comfort of reflecting that according to the native phrase, _on +s'occupe de la marier_--that measures are being carefully taken to +promote her to a condition of unbounded liberty. Whatever, to her +imagination, marriage may fail to mean, it at least means freedom and +consideration. It does not mean, as it so often means in America, being +socially shelved--and it is not too much to say, in certain circles, +degraded; it means being socially launched and consecrated. It means +becoming that exalted personage, a _mère de famille_. To be a _mère de +famille_ is to occupy not simply (as is rather the case with us) a +sentimental, but a really official position. The consideration, the +authority, the domestic pomp and circumstance allotted to a French mamma +are in striking contrast with the amiable tolerance which in our own +social order is so often the most liberal measure that the female parent +may venture to expect at her children's hands, and which, on the part of +the young lady of eighteen who represents the family in society, is not +infrequently tempered by a conscientious severity. All this is worth +waiting for, especially if you have not to wait very long. Mademoiselle +is married certainly, and married early, and she is sufficiently well +informed to know, and to be sustained by the knowledge, that the +sentimental expansion which may not take place at present will have an +open field after her marriage. That it should precede her marriage seems +to her as unnatural as that she should put on her shoes before her +stockings. And besides all this, to browse in the maternal shadow is not +considered in the least a hardship. A young French girl who is _bien +élevée_--an expression which means so much--will be sure to consider her +mother's company the most delightful in the world, and to think that the +herbage which sprouts about this lady's petticoats is peculiarly tender +and succulent. It may be fanciful, but it often seems to me that the +tone with which such a young girl says _Ma mère_ has a peculiar +intensity of meaning. I am at least not wrong in affirming that in the +accent with which the mamma--especially if she be of the well-rounded +order alluded to above--speaks of _Ma fille_ there is a kind of +sacerdotal dignity. + + + + +V. + + +After this came two or three pictures of quite another +complexion--pictures of which a long green valley, almost in the centre +of France, makes the general setting. The valley itself, indeed, forms +one delightful picture, although the country which surrounds it is by no +means a show region. It is the old region of the Gâtinais, which has +plenty of history, but no great beauty. It is very still, deliciously +rural, and immitigably French. Normandy is Norman, Gascony is Gascon, +but this is France itself--the typical, average, "pleasant" France of +history, literature, and art--of art, of landscape art, perhaps, +especially. Wherever I look in the country I seem to see one of the +familiar pictures on a dealer's wall--a Lambinet, a Troyon, a Daubigny, +a Diaz. The Lambinets perhaps are in the majority; the mood of the +landscape usually expresses itself in silvery lights and vivid greens. +The history of this part of France is the history of the monarchy, and +its language is, I won't say absolutely the classic tongue, but a nearer +approach to it than any local _patois_. The peasants deliver themselves +with rather a drawl, but what they speak is good clean French that any +cockney can understand, which is more than can be said sometimes for +the violent jargon that emanates from the fishing folk of Etretal. + +Each side of the long valley is a long low ridge, which offers it a +high, bosky horizon, and through the middle of it there flows a charming +stream, wandering, winding, and doubling, smothered here and there in +rocks, and spreading into lily-coated reaches, beneath the clear shadow +of tall, straight, light-leaved trees. On each side of the stream the +meadows stretch away flat, clean, and magnificent, lozenged across with +rows of sober foliage under which a cow-maiden sits on the grass hooting +now and then, nasally, to the large-uddered browsers in front of her. +There are no hedges, nor palings, nor walls; it is all a single estate. +Here and there in the meadows stands a cluster of red-roofed +hovels--each a diminutive village. At other points, at about half an +hour's walk apart, are three charming old houses. The châteaux are +extremely different, but, both picturesquely and conveniently, each has +its points. They are very intimate with each other, so that these points +may be amicably discussed. The points in one case, however, are +remarkably strong. The château stands directly in the little river I +have mentioned, on an island just great enough to hold it, and the +garden flowers grow upon the further bank. This, of course, is a most +delightful affair. But I found something very agreeable in the aspect of +one of the others, when I made it the goal of certain of those walks +before breakfast which of cool mornings in the late summer do not fall +into the category of ascetic pleasures. (In France, indeed, if one did +not do a great many things before breakfast, the work of life would be +but meagerly performed.) + +The dwelling in question stands on the top of the long ridge which +encloses the comfortable valley to the south, being by its position +quite in the midst of its appurtenant acres. It is not particularly +"kept up," but its quiet rustiness and untrimmedness only help it to be +picturesque. A grassy plateau approaches it from the edge of the hill, +bordered on one side by a short avenue of horse-chestnuts, and on the +other by a dusky wood. Beyond the chestnuts are the steep-roofed, +yellow-walled farm buildings, and under cover of the wood a stretch of +beaten turf, where, on Sundays and holidays, the farm-servants play at +bowls. Directly before the château is a little square garden enclosed by +a low stone parapet, interrupted by a high gateway of mossy pillars and +iron arabesques, the whole of it overclambered by flowering vines. The +house, with its yellow walls and russet roof, is ample and substantial; +it is a very proper _gentilhommière_. In a corner of the garden, at the +angle of the parapet, rises that classic emblem of rural gentility, the +_pigeonnier_, the old stone dovecote. It is a great round tower, as +broad of base as a lighthouse, with its roof shaped like an +extinguisher, and a big hole in its upper portion, in and out of which a +dove is always fluttering. + +You see all this from the windows of the drawing-room. Be sure that the +drawing-room is pannelled in white and gray, with old rococo moulding +over the doorways and mantlepiece. The open garden gateway, with its +tangled vines, makes a frame for the picture that lies beyond the little +grassy esplanade where the thistles have been suffered to grow around a +disused stone well, placed at quaint remoteness from the house (if, +indeed, it is not a relic of an earlier habitation), a picture of a wide +green country rising beyond the unseen valley, and stretching away to a +far horizon in deep blue lines of wood. Behind, through other windows, +you look out on the gardens proper. There are places that take one's +fancy by some accident of expression, by some mystery of accident. This +one is high and breezy, both sunny and shady, plain yet picturesque, +extremely cheerful, and a little melancholy. It has what in the arts is +called "style," and so it took mine. + +Going to call on the peasants was as charming an affair as a chapter in +one of George Sand's rural tales. I went one Sunday morning with my +hostess, who knew them well and engaged their most garrulous confidence. +I don't mean that they told her all their secrets, but they told her a +good many; if the French peasant is a simpleton, he is a very shrewd +simpleton. At any rate, of a Sunday morning in August, when he is +stopping at home from work, and he has put on his best jacket and +trowsers, and is loafing at the door of his neighbor's cabin, he is a +very charming person. The peasantry in the region I speak of had +admirably good manners. The curé gave me a low account of their morals; +by which he meant, on the whole, I suspect, that they were moderate +church-goers. But they have the instinct of civility and a talent for +conversation; they know how to play the host and the entertainer. By +"he," just now, I meant _she_ quite as much; it is rare that, in +speaking superlatively of the French, in any connection, one does not +think of the women even more than of the men. They constantly strike the +foreigner as a stronger expression of the qualities of the race. On the +occasion I speak of the first room in the very humble cabins I +successively visited--in some cases, evidently, it was the only +room--had been set into irreproachable order for the day. It had usually +a sort of brown-toned picturesqueness, begotten of the high +chimney-place, with its swinging pots, the important bed, in its dusky +niche, with its flowered curtains, the big-bellied earthenware on the +cupboard, the long-legged clock in the corner, the thick, quiet light of +the small, deeply-set window; the mixture, on all things, of smoke-stain +and the polish of horny hands. Into the midst of this "la Rabillon" or +"la Mère Léger" brings forward her chairs and begs us to be seated, and +seating herself, with crossed hands, smiles handsomely and answers +abundantly all questions about her cow, her husband, her bees, her eggs, +and her last-born. The men linger half outside and half in, with their +shoulders against dressers and door-posts; every one smiles, with that +simple, clear-eyed smile of the gratified peasant; they talk much more +like George Sand's Berrichons than might be supposed. And if they +receive us without gross awkwardness, they speed us on our way with +proportionate urbanity. I go to six or eight little hovels, all of them +dirty outside and clean within; I am entertained everywhere with the +_bonhomie_, the quaintness, the good faces and good manners of their +occupants, and I finish my tour with an esteem for my new acquaintance +which is not diminished by learning that several of them have thirty or +forty thousand francs securely laid by. + +And yet, as I say, M. le Curé thinks they are in a bad way, and he knows +something about them. M. le Curé, too, is not a dealer in scandal; there +is something delightfully quaint in the way in which he deprecates an +un-Christian construction of his words. There is more than one curé in +the valley whose charms I celebrate; but the worthy priest of whom I +speak is the pearl of the local priesthood. He has been accused, I +believe, of pretentions to what is called _illuminisme_; but even in his +most illuminated moments it can never occur to him that he has been +chronicled in an American magazine, and therefore it is not indiscreet +to say that he is the curé, not of Gy, but of the village nearest to Gy. +I write this sentence half for the pleasure of putting down that +briefest of village names and seeing how it looks in print. But it may +be elongated at will, and yet be only improved. If you wish to be very +specific, you may call it Gy-les-Nonnains--Gy of the Little Nuns. I went +with my hostess, another morning, to call upon M. le Curé, who himself +opened his garden door to us (there was a crooked little black cross +perched upon it), and, lifting his rusty _calotte_, stood there a moment +in the sunshine, smiling a greeting more benignant than words. + +A rural _presbytère_ is not a very sumptuous dwelling, and M. le Curé's +little drawing room reminded me of a Yankee parlor (_minus_ the +subscription books from Hartford, on the centre-table) in some +out-of-the-way corner of New England. But he took us into his very +diminutive garden, and showed us an ornament that would not have +flourished in the shade of a Yankee parlor--a rude stone image of the +Virgin, which he had become possessed of I know not how, and for which +he was building a sort of niche in the wall. The work was going on +slowly, for he must take the labor as he could get it; but he appealed +to his visitors, with a smile of indulgent irony, for an assurance that +his little structure would not make too bad a figure. One of them told +him that she would send him some white flowers to set out round his +statue; whereupon he clasped his hands together over his snuff-box and +expressed cheerful views of the world we live in. A couple of days +afterward he came to breakfast, and, of course, he arrived early, in his +new cassock and band. I found him in the billiard-room, walking up and +down alone, and reading his breviary. The combination of the locality, +the personage, and the occupation made me smile; and I smiled again +when, after breakfast, I found him walking up and down the garden, +puffing a cigarette. Of course he had an excellent appetite; but there +is something rather cruel in those alternations of diet to which the +French parish priest is subjected. At home he lives like a peasant--a +fact which, in itself, is not particularly cruel, inasmuch as he is +usually a peasant born. But his fellow peasants don't breakfast at the +château and gaze adown the savory vistas opened by cutlets à la +Soubise. They have not the acute pain of being turned back into the +stale atmosphere of bread and beans. Of course it is by no means every +day or every week even that M. le Curé breakfasts at the château; but +there must nevertheless be a certain uncomfortable crookedness in his +position. He lives like a laborer, and yet he is treated like a +gentleman. The latter character must seem to him sometimes a rather +heavy irony on the other. But to the ideal curé, of course, all +characters are equal; he thinks neither too ill of his bad breakfasts, +nor too well of his good ones. I won't say that the excellent man I +speak of is the ideal curé, but I suspect he is an approach to it; he +has a grain of epicureanism to an ounce of stoicism. In the garden path, +beside the moat, while he puffed his cigarette, he told me how he had +held up his head to the Prussians; for, hard as it seemed to believe it, +that pastoral valley had been occupied by ravaging Teutons. According to +this recital, he had spoken his mind civilly, but most distinctly, to +the group of officers who had made themselves at home in his +dwelling--had informed them that it grieved him profoundly that he was +obliged to meet them standing there in his cassock, and not out in the +fields with a musket in his hands and a dozen congenial spirits at his +side. The scene must have been picturesque. The first of the officers +got up from table and asked for the privilege of shaking his hand. "M. +le Curé," he said, "j'estime hautement votre caractère." + +Six miles away--or nearer, by a charming shaded walk along a canal--was +an ancient town with a legend--a legend which, as a child, I read in my +lesson-book at school, marvelling at the wood-cut above it, in which a +ferocious dog was tearing a strange man to pieces, while the king and +his courtiers sat by as if they were at the circus. I allude to it +chiefly in order to mention the name of one of its promenades, which is +the stateliest, beyond all comparison, in the world; the name, I mean, +not the street. The latter is called Les Belles Manières. Could +anything be finer than that? With what a sweep gentlemen must once have +taken off their hats there; how ladies must once have curtsied, +regardless of gutters, and how people must have turned up their toes as +they walked! + + + + +VI. + + +My next impressions were gathered on the margin of a southern sea--if +the Bay of Biscay indeed deserves so soft-sounding a name. We generally +have a mental image beforehand of a place we think of going to, and I +supposed I had a tolerably vivid prevision of Biarritz. I don't know +why, but I had a singular sense of having been there; the name always +seemed to me expressive. I saw the way it lay along its gleaming beach; +I had taken in imagination the long walks toward Spain over the low +cliffs, with the blue sea always to my right, and the blue Pyrenees +always before me. My only fear was that my mental picture was not +brilliant enough; but this could easily be touched up on the spot. In +truth, however, I was exclusively occupied in toning it down. Biarritz +seemed to be decidedly below its reputation; I am at a loss to see how +its reputation was made. There is a partial explanation that is obvious +enough. There is a low, square, bare brick mansion seated on the sands, +under shelter of a cliff; it is one of the first objects to attract the +attention of an arriving stranger. It is not picturesque, it is not +romantic, and even in the days of its prosperity it never can have been +impressive. It is called the Villa Eugénie, and it explains in a great +measure, as I say, the Biarritz which the arriving stranger, with some +dismay, perceives about him. It has the aspect of one of the "cottages" +of Newport during the winter season, and is surrounded by an even +scantier umbrage than usually flourishes in the vicinity of those +establishments. It was what the newspapers call the "favorite resort" +of the ex-Empress of the French, who might have been seen at her +imperial avocations with a good glass at any time from the Casino. The +Casino, I hasten to add, has quite the air of an establishment +frequented by gentlemen who look on ladies' windows with telescopes. +There are Casinos and Casinos, and that of Biarritz is, in the summary +French phrase, "impossible." Except for its view, it is moreover very +unattractive. Perched on the top of a cliff which has just space enough +to hold its immense brick foundations, it has no garden, no promenade, +no shade, no place of out-of-door reunion--the most indispensable +feature of a Casino. It turns its back to the Pyrenees and to Spain, and +looks out prettily enough over a blue ocean to an arm of the low French +coast. + +Biarritz, for the rest, scrambles over two or three steep hills, +directly above the sea, in a promiscuous, many-colored, noisy fashion. +It is a watering-place, pure and simple; every house has an expensive +little shop in the basement, and a still more expensive set of rooms to +let above stairs. The houses are blue, and pink, and green; they stick +to the hillsides as they can, and being near Spain, you try to fancy +they look Spanish. You succeed perhaps, even a little, and are rewarded +for your zeal by finding, when you cross the border a few days +afterward, that the houses at San Sebastian look strikingly French. +Biarritz is bright, crowded, irregular, filled with many sounds, and not +without a certain second-rate picturesqueness; but it struck me as +common and cocknified, and my vision travelled back to modest little +Etretal, by its northern sea, as to a more truly delectable +resting-place. The southwestern coast of France has little of the +exquisite charm of the Mediterranean shore. It has of course a southern +expression which in itself is always delightful. You see a brilliant, +yellow sun, with a pink-faced, red-tiled house staring up at it. You +can see here and there a trellis and an orange tree, a peasant woman in +gold necklace, driving a donkey, a lame beggar adorned with ear-rings, a +glimpse of blue sea between white garden walls. But the superabundant +detail of the French Riviera is wanting; the softness, luxuriousness, +enchantment. + +The most picturesque thing at Biarritz is the Basque population, which +overflows from the adjacent Spanish provinces and swarms in the crooked +streets. It lounges all day in the public places, sprawls upon the +curbstones, clings to the face of the cliffs, and vociferates +continually in a shrill, strange tongue, which has no discoverable +affinity with any other. The Basques look like the hardier and thriftier +Neapolitan lazzaroni; if the superficial resemblance is striking, the +difference is very much in their favor. Although those specimens which I +observed at Biarritz appeared to enjoy an excess of leisure, they had +nothing of a shiftless or beggarly air, and seemed as little disposed to +ask favors as to confer them. The roads leading into Spain were dotted +with them, and here they were coming and going as if on important +business--the business of the abominable Don Carlos himself. They struck +me as a very handsome race. The men are invariably clean shaved; smooth +chins seem a positively religious observance. They wear little round, +maroon-colored caps, like those of sailor-boys, dark stuff shirts, and +curious white shoes, made of strips of rope laid together--an article of +toilet which makes them look like honorary members of base-ball clubs. +They sling their jackets, cavalier fashion, over one shoulder, hold +their heads very high, swing their arms very bravely, step out very +lightly, and when you meet them in the country at eventide, charging +down a hillside in companies of half a dozen, make altogether a most +impressive appearance. With their smooth chins and childish caps, they +may be taken, in the distance, for a lot of very naughty little boys. +They have always a cigarette in their teeth. + +The best thing at Biarritz is your opportunity for driving over into +Spain. Coming speedily to a consciousness of this fact, I found a charm +in sitting in a landau and rolling away to San Sebastian, behind a +driver in a high glazed hat with long streamers, a jacket of scarlet and +silver, and a pair of yellow breeches and of jack-boots. If it has been +the desire of one's heart and the dream of one's life to visit the land +of Cervantes, even grazing it so lightly as by a day's excursion from +Biarritz is a matter to set one romancing. Everything helping--the +admirable scenery, the charming day, my operatic coachman, and +smooth-rolling carriage--I am afraid I romanced more than it is decent +to tell of. You face toward the beautifully outlined mass of the +Pyrenees, as if you were going to plunge straight into them, but in +reality you travel beneath them and beside them; you pass between their +expiring spurs and the sea. It is on proceeding beyond San Sebastian +that you seriously attack them. But they are already extremely +picturesque--none the less so that in this region they abound in +suggestion of the recent Carlist war. Their far-away peaks and ridges +are crowned with lonely Spanish watch-towers and their lower slopes are +dotted with demolished dwellings. It was hereabouts that the fighting +was most constant. But the healing powers of nature are as remarkable as +the destructive powers of man, and the rich September landscape appeared +already to have forgotten the injuries of yesterday. Everything seemed +to me a savory foretaste of Spain. I discovered an unconscionable amount +of local color. I discovered it at St. Jean de Luz, the last French +town, in a great brown church, filled with galleries and boxes, like a +playhouse--the altar and chair, indeed, looked very much like a +proscenium; at Bohebia, on the Bidassoa, the small yellow stream which +divides France from Spain, and which at this point offers to view the +celebrated Isle of Pheasants, a little bushy strip of earth adorned with +a decayed commemorative monument, on which, in the seventeenth century, +the affairs of Louis XIV. and his brother monarch were discussed in +ornamental conference; at Fuentarabia (glorious name), a mouldering +relic of Spanish stateliness; at Hondaye, at Irun, at Renteria, and +finally at San Sebastian. At all of these wayside towns the houses show +marks of Alphonsist bullets (the region was strongly Carlist); but to be +riddled and battered seems to carry out the meaning of the pompous old +escutcheons carven above the doorways, some of them covering almost half +the house. It seemed to me, in fact, that the narrower and shabbier was +the poor little dusky dwelling, the grander and more elaborate was this +noble advertisement. But it stood for knightly prowess, and pitiless +Time had taken up the challenge. I found it fine work to rumble through +the narrow single street of Irun and Renteria, between the +strange-colored houses, the striped awnings, the universal balconies, +and the heraldic doorways. + +San Sebastian is a lively watering-place, and is set down in the +guidebooks as the Biarritz or the Brighton of Spain. It has of course a +new quarter in the provincial-elegant style (fresh stucco cafés, barber +shops, and apartments to let), looking out upon a planted promenade and +a charming bay, locked in fortified heights, with a narrow portal to the +ocean. I walked about for two or three hours, and devoted most of my +attention to the old quarter, the town proper, which has a great +frowning gate upon the harbor, through which you look along a vista of +gaudy house fronts, balconies, and awnings, surmounted by a narrow strip +of sky. Here the local color was richer, the manners more _naïf_. Here +too was a church with a flamboyant Jesuit façade and an interior +redolent of Spanish Catholicism. There was a life-sized effigy of the +Virgin perched upon a table beside the great altar (she appeared to +have been walking abroad in a procession), whom I looked at with extreme +interest. She seemed to me a heroine, a solid Spanish person, as perfect +a reality as Don Quixote or St. Theresa. She was dressed in an +extraordinary splendor of laces, brocades, and jewels, her coiffure and +complexion were of the finest, and she evidently would answer to her +name if you spoke to her. Improving the stateliest title I could think +of, I addressed her as Doña Maria of the Holy Office; whereupon she +looked round the great dusky, perfumed church, to see whether we were +alone, and then she dropped her fringed eyelids and held out her hand to +be kissed. She was the Sentiment of Spanish Catholicism: gloomy, yet +bedizened, emotional as a woman, and yet mechanical as a doll. After a +moment I grew afraid of her, and went slinking away. After this I didn't +really recover my spirits until I had the satisfaction of hearing myself +addressed as "Cabellero." I was hailed with this epithet by a ragged +infant, with sickly eyes and a cigarette in his lips, who invited me to +cast a copper into the sea, that he might dive for it; and even with +these limitations, the sensation seemed worth the cost of my excursion. +It appeared kinder, to my gratitude, to make the infant dive upon the +pavement. + +A few days later I went back to San Sebastian, to witness a bull fight; +but I suppose my right to descant upon this entertainment should be +measured less by the gratification it afforded me than by the question +whether there is room in literature for another bull fight. I incline to +think there is not; the Spanish diversion is the best described thing in +the world. Besides, there are other reasons for not describing it. It is +extremely disgusting, and one should not describe disgusting +things--except (according to the new school) in novels, when they have +not really occurred, and are manufactured on purpose. But one has taken +a certain sort of pleasure in the bull fight, and yet how is one to +state gracefully that one has taken pleasure in a disgusting thing? It +is a hard case. If you record your pleasure, distinctly, you seem to +exaggerate it and to calumniate your delicacy; and if you record nothing +but your displeasure, you feel rather crabbed and stingy. This much I +can say, at any rate, that as there had been no bull fights in that part +of the country during the Carlist war, the native dilettanti (and every +man, woman, and child of them comes under this denomination) returned to +their previous pastime with peculiar zest. The spectacle, therefore, had +an unusual splendor. Under these circumstances it is highly picturesque. +The weather was beautiful; the near mountains peeped over the top of the +vast open arena, as if they too were curious; weary of disembowelled +horses and posturing _espadas_, the spectator (in the boxes) might turn +away and look through an unglazed window at the empty town and the +cloud-shadowed sea. But few of the native spectators availed themselves +of this privilege. Beside me sat a blooming matron, in a white lace +mantilla, with three very juvenile daughters; and if these ladies +sometimes yawned, they never shivered. For myself, I confess that if I +sometimes shivered, I never yawned. A long list of bulls was sacrificed, +each of whom had pretentions to originality. The _banderillos_, in their +silk stockings and embroidered satin costumes, skipped about with a +great deal of elegance; the _espada_ folded his arms, within six inches +of the bull's nose, and stared him out of countenance; but I thought the +bull, in any case, a finer fellow than any of his tormentors, and I +thought his tormentors finer fellows than the spectators. In truth, we +were all, for the time, rather sorry fellows together. A bull fight +will, to a certain extent, bear looking at, but it will not bear +thinking of. There was a more innocent picturesqueness in what I saw +afterward, when we all came away, in the late afternoon, as the shadows +were at their longest: the bright-colored southern crowd, spreading +itself over the grass, and the women, with mantillas and fans, strolling +up along before the mountains and the sea. + + HENRY JAMES, JR. + + + + +THE BALLAD OF CONSTANCE. + + + I. + + With diamond dew the grass was wet, + T'was in the spring, and gentlest weather, + And all the birds of morning met, + And carolled in her heart together. + + + II. + + The wind blew softly o'er the land, + And softly kissed the joyous ocean: + He walked beside her, on the sand, + And gave and won a heart's devotion. + + + III. + + The thistledown was in the breeze, + With birds of passage homeward flying: + His fortune called him o'er the seas, + And on the shore he left her sighing. + + + IV. + + She saw his barque glide down the bay-- + Through tears and fears she could not banish; + She saw his white sails melt away; + She saw them fade; she saw them vanish. + + + V. + + And "Go," she said; "for winds are fair, + And love and blessing round you hover: + When you sail backward through the air, + Then I will trust the word of lover." + + + VI. + + Still ebbed, still flowed the tide of years, + Now chilled with snows, now bright with roses, + And many smiles were turned to tears, + And sombre morns to radiant closes. + + + VII. + + And many ships came gliding by, + With many a golden promise freighted: + But nevermore from sea or sky + Came love to bless her heart that waited. + + + VII. + + Yet on, by tender patience led, + Her sacred footsteps walked unbidden, + Wherever sorrow bows its head, + Or want and care and shame are hidden. + + + IX. + + And they who saw her snow-white hair, + And dark, sad eyes, so deep with feeling, + Breathed all at once the chancel air, + And seemed to hear the organ pealing. + + + X. + + Till once, at shut of autumn day, + In marble chill she paused and harkened, + With startled gaze where far away + The waste of sky and ocean darkened. + + + XI. + + There, for a moment, faint and wan, + High up in air, and landward striving, + Stern-fore a spectral barque came on, + Across the purple sunset driving. + + + XII. + + Then something out of night she knew, + Some whisper heard, from heaven descended, + And peacefully as falls the dew + Her long and lonely vigil ended. + + + XIII. + + The violet and the bramble-rose + Make glad the grass that dreams above her; + And freed from time and all its woes, + She trusts again the word of lover. + + WILLIAM WINTER. + + + + +THE HEARTBREAK CAMEO. + + +"It is a cameo to break one's heart!" said Mrs. Dalliba, as she toyed +with the superb jewel. "The cutting is unmistakably Florentine, and yet +you have placed it among your Indian curiosities. I do not understand it +at all." + +Mrs. Dalliba was a connoisseur in gems; she had travelled from one +extremity of Europe to the other; had studied the crown jewels of nearly +every civilized nation, haunted museums, and was such a frequent visitor +at the jewellers' of the Palais Royal, that many of them had come to +regard her as an individual who might harbor burglarious intentions. She +was a very harmless specialist, however, who, though she loved these +stars of the underworld better than any human being, could never have +been tempted to make one of them unfairly her own, and she seldom +purchased, for she never coveted one unless it was something quite +extraordinary, beyond the reach of even her considerable fortune. +Meanwhile few of the larger jewelry houses had in their employ +lapidaries more skilled than Mrs. Dalliba. She pursued her studies for +the mere love of the science, devoting a year in Italy to mosaics, +cameos, and intaglios. And yet the Crèvecoeur cameo had puzzled wiser +heads than Mrs. Dalliba's, adept though she was. It was cut from a solid +heart-shaped gem, a layer of pure white, shading down through exquisite +gradations into deep green, and represented Aphrodite rising from the +sea; the white form rose gracefully, with arms extended, scattering the +drops of spray from her hands and her wind-blown hair; the foamy waves +were beautifully cut with their intense hollows and snowy crests; it was +evidently the work of a cultivated as well as a natural artist; it was +not surprising that Mrs. Dalliba should insist that it could not have +been executed out of Italy. + +But Prof. Stonehenge was right too; it was a stone of the chalcedonic +family, resembling sardonyx, except in color; others, similar to it both +in a natural state and wrought into arrow-heads, had been found along +the shores of Lake Superior. This seemed to have been brought away from +its associates by some wandering tribe, for it had been discovered in +Central Illinois. The nearest point at which other relics belonging to +the same period had been found was the site of Fort Crèvecoeur, near +Starved Rock, Illinois. After all, the stone only differed from the +arrow-heads of Lake Superior in its beautiful carving and unprecedented +size--and, ah, yes! there was another difference, the mystery of its +discovery. No other skeleton among all the buried braves unearthed by +scientific research at Crèvecoeur had been found with a gem for a +heart--a gem that glittered not on the breast, but within a chest hooped +with human bone. Mrs. Dalliba had just remarked that she had never felt +so strong a desire to possess and wear any jewel as now; but when Prof. +Stonehenge told how the uncanny thing rattled within the white ribs of +the skeleton in which it was found, she allowed the gem to slip from her +hand, while something of its own pale green flickered in the disgusted +expression which quivered about the corners of her mobile mouth. The +cameo was a mystery which had baffled geologist, antiquarian, and +sculptor alike, for Father Francis Xavier had gone down to his grave +with his secret and his cameo hidden in his heart. He had kept both well +for two centuries, and when the heart crumbled in dust it took its +secret with it, leaving only the cameo to bewilder conjecture. + +Its story was, after all, a simple one. On the southern shore of +Michillimackinac, in the romantic days of the first exploration of the +great lakes by the Courreurs de Bois and pioneer priests, had settled +good Père Ignace, a devoted Jesuit missionary. The old man was revered +and loved by the Indians among whom he dwelt. His labors blossomed in a +little village, called from his patron saint the mission of St. Ignace, +that displayed its cluster of white huts and wigwams like the petals of +a water-lily on the margin of the lake. Just back of the village was a +round knoll which served as a landmark on the lake, for the shore near +St. Ignace was remarkably level. On the summit of this mound the good +father had reared a great white cross, and at its foot the superstitious +Indians often laid votive offerings of strongly incongruous character. +Here he had lived and taught for many years, succeeding in instructing +his little flock in the French tongue, and in at least an outward +semblance of the Catholic religion. Even the rude trappers, who came to +trade at regular intervals, revered him, and lived like good Christians +while at the mission, so as not to counteract his teaching by their +lawless example. Here Père Ignace was growing old, and even this +grasshopper of a spiritual charge was becoming a burden. His superior, +at Montreal, understood this and sent him an assistant. + +Very unlike Father Ignatius was Père François Xavier, a man with all the +fire and enthusiasm of youth in his blood--just the one for daring, +hazardous enterprises; just the one to undergo all the privation and +toil of planting a mission; to undertake plans requiring superhuman +efforts, and to carry them through successfully by main force of will. A +better assistant for Father Ignatius could not have been found. It was +force, will, and intellect in the service of love and meekness; only +there was a doubt if the servant might not usurp the place of the +master, and the sway of love be not materially advanced by its new +ally. Indeed, if the truth had been known, even the Bishop of Montreal +had felt that Father Francis Xavier was too ambitious a character to +reside safely in too close proximity to himself; and engrossing +employment at a distance for him, rather than the expressed solicitude +for Father Ignatius, prompted this appointment. The results of the +following year approved the arrangement. The mission received a new +accession of life; its interests were pushed forward energetically. + +Father Francis Xavier devoted himself to an acquisition of the various +Indian dialects, and to excursions among the neighboring tribes. +Converts were made in astonishing numbers, and they brought liberal +gifts to the little church from their simple possessions. Father +Ignatius had never thought to barter with the trappers and traders, but +his colleague did; large church warehouses were erected, and the mission +soon had revenues of importance. Away in the interior Father Xavier had +discovered there was a silver mine; but this discovery, for the present, +he made no attempt at exploiting. He had secured it to the church by +title deed and treaty with the chief who claimed it; had visited it and +assured himself that it would some day be very valuable, and he +contented himself with this for the present, and even managed to forget +its acquisition in his yearly report sent to Montreal. Father Francis +Xavier was something of a geologist; his father was a Florentine +jeweller, and the son had studied as his apprentice, not having at first +been destined for the church. Even after taking holy orders, Father +Francis Xavier had labored over precious stones designed for +ecclesiastical decoration. His specialty had been that of a gem +engraver, and his long white fingers were remarkably skilful and +delicate. This northern region, with all its wealth of precious stones, +was a great jewel casket for him, and he became at once an enthusiastic +collector. + +Before the coming of his assistant, Father Ignatius had managed his own +simple housekeeping in all its most humble details. Now they had the +services of an Indian maid of all work, who had been brought up under +the eyes of Father Ignatius, and whom the old man regarded rather as a +daughter than as a servant. Her moccasined feet fell as silently as +those of spirits as she glided about their lodge. She never sang at her +work, and rarely spoke, but she smiled often with a smile so childlike +as to be almost silly in expression. Father Ignatius loved the silent +smile, and a word from him was always sure to bring it; but it angered +Father Francis Xavier more than many a more repulsive thing would have +done. It seemed so utterly imbecile and babyish to him, he had got so +far away from innocence and smiles and childhood himself, that the sight +of them irritated him. The young Indian girl had a long and almost +unpronounceable name. Père Ignace had baptized her Marie, and the new +name had gradually taken the place of the old. + +One day, as she was silently but dexterously putting to order the large +upper room, which served Père Francis Xavier as study and dormitory, she +paused before his collection of agates and minerals, and stroking the +stones, said in her soft French and Indian patois, "Pretty, pretty." +Father Xavier was seated at the great open window, looking over the top +of his book away across the breezy lake. He heard the words, and knew +that she was looking at him from the corner of her eye, but his only +reply was a deeper scowl and a lowering of his glance to the printed +page. The silly smile which he felt sure was upon her face faded out, +but the girl spoke again, and this time more resolutely, determined to +attract his attention. "Pretty stones. Marie's father many more, much +prettier--much." + +Father Xavier laid down his book. He was all attention. "Where did your +father get them?" he asked. + +"In the mountains climb, in the mines dig, in the lake dive, he seek +them all the time summer." + +"What does he do with them?" + +"Cuts them like _mon père_," and Marie imitated in pantomime the use of +the hammer and chisel. "Cut them all time winter, very many." + +"What does he do that for?" asked the priest, surprised. + +"All the same you," replied the girl--"make arrow-heads." + +"Oh! he makes arrow-heads, does he? Mine are not arrow-heads, but I +should like to see what your father does. Does he live far from here?" + +"Marie take you to-night in canoe." + +"Very well, after supper." + +She had often taken him out upon the lake before, for she managed their +birch-bark canoe with more skill than himself, and it was convenient to +have some one to paddle while he fished or read or dreamed. She rowed +him swiftly up the lake for several miles, then, fastening the canoe, +led the way through a trail in the forest. The sun was setting, and "the +whispering pines and the hemlocks" of the forest primeval formed a +tapestry of gloom around the paternal wigwam as they reached it. Black +Beaver, her father, reclined lazily in the door, watching the coals of +the little fire in front of his tent. He was always lazy. It was +difficult to believe that he ever climbed or dug or dived for agates as +Marie had said, so complete a picture he seemed of inaction. The girl +spoke a few words to him in their native dialect, and he grumblingly +rose, shuffled into the interior of the wigwam, and brought out two +baskets. One was a shallow tray filled with the finished heads in great +variety of material and color. There were white carnelian, delicately +striped with prophetic red, blood-stone deep-colored and hard as ruby, +agates of every shade and marking, flinty jasper, emerald-banded +malachite, delicate rose color, and purple ones made from shells, and +various crystals with whose names Father François Xavier was +unfamiliar. There was one shading from dark green through to red, only +a drop of the latter color on the very tip of the arrow where blood +would first kiss blood. Father Xavier looked at it in wondering +admiration, and at last asked Black Beaver what he called it. + +"It is a devil-stone," replied the Indian. "More here," and he opened +the deeper basket in which were stored the unground and uncut stones, +and placed a superb gem in Father Xavier's hand. He had ground it +sufficiently to show that it was in two layers, white and green; in this +there was no touch of red, but in every other respect it was the +handsomer stone. + +"Will you sell it to me?" asked the priest. "How much?" + +The Indian smiled with an expression strangely like that of his +daughter, and put it back with alacrity in his basket, saying, "Me no +sell big devil-stone. No money buy." + +"What do you mean to do with it?" asked Father Xavier. + +"Make arrowhead--very hungry--no blood"; and he indicated the absence of +the red tint. "Very hungry--kill very much--never have enough!" + +"Then you mean to keep it and use it yourself?" + +"No," said the other. "Me no hunt game--hunt stones." + +"What will you do with it?" asked the puzzled priest. + +"Give it away," said Black Beaver--"give away to greatest----" + +"Chief?" asked Father Xavier. + +Black Beaver shook his head. + +"Friend then?" + +"No," grunted the arrowhead maker--"give away to big _enemy_!" + +"What did he mean by that?" Father Xavier asked of Marie on their way +back to the mission. And the girl explained the superstition that +Indians of their own tribe never killed an enemy with ordinary weapons, +for fear that his soul would wait for theirs in the Happy Hunting +Grounds; but if he was shot with a devil-stone, the soul could not fly +upward, but would sink through all eternity, until it reached the +deepest spot of all the great lakes under the stony gaze of the Doom +Woman. + +When he inquired further as to the whereabouts of the Doom Woman's +residence he ascertained that she was only a sharp cliff among "the +pictured rocks of sandstone" of the upper lake--a cliff that viewed from +either side maintained its resemblance to a female profile looking +sternly down at the water beneath it, which was here believed to be +unfathomable. The Doom Woman still exists. Strange to say, under its +sharp-cut features a steamer has since been wrecked and sunk, and its +expression of gloomy fate is now awfully appropriate. Marie had visited +"the great Sea Water" with her father. Nature's titanic and fanciful +frescoing and cameo cutting had strongly wrought upon her impressionable +mind, and the old legends and superstitions of paganism had been by no +means effaced by the very slight veneer of Christianity which she had +received at the mission. + +From this evening Father Xavier's manner toward her changed. Her smile +no longer seemed to irritate him, and a close observer might have +noticed that she smiled less than formerly. He talked with her more, +paid closer attention to her studies, made her little presents from time +to to time, and spoke to her always with studied gentleness that was +quite foreign to his nature. And Marie watched him at work over his +stones, spent her spare time in rambling in search of those which she +had learned he liked, and laid upon his table without remark each new +discovery of quartz, or crystal, or pebble. She had been in the habit of +making little boxes which she decorated with a rude mosaic of small +shells, and Father Xavier noticed that these gradually acquired more +taste and were arranged with some eye to the harmonies of color, while +the forms were copied with Chinese accuracy from patterns on the +bindings of his books or the borders of the religious pictures. Marie +was developing under an art education which if carried far enough might +effect great things. She even managed his graving tools with a good deal +of accuracy, copying designs which he set her, until he wondered what +his father would have thought of so apt an apprentice. + +Suddenly, one morning in midsummer, Marie announced that she should +leave them. Her father was going on a long expedition for stones to the +head of Lake Superior, and she did not know when she might return. As +she imparted this information she watched Father Xavier from the corner +of her eye, and something of the old childish smile reappeared as he +showed that he was really annoyed. + +The summer passed profitably for the Black Beaver, and he began to think +of returning to St. Ignace with his small store of valuable stones +before the fall gales should set in. He was just a few days too late. +When within sight of Michillimackinac a storm arose driving them out +upon the open lake, and playing with their canoe as though it were a +cockle shell. When the storm abated a cloudy night had set in; no land +was visible in any direction; they had completely lost their direction, +and knew not toward which point to seek the shore. Paddling at hazard +might take them further out into the centre of the lake, and indeed they +were too worn with battling with the storm to do any more than keep the +tossed skiff from capsizing. Morning dawned wet and gray, after a +miserable night; they were drenched to the skin, and almost spent with +weariness and hunger, and now that a wan and ghostly daylight had come +they were no better for it, for an impenetrable fog shut them in on +every side. Marie and her mother began to pray. The Black Beaver sat +dogged and inert, with upturned face, regarding the sky. + +The day wore by wearily; some of the time they paddled straight onward, +with sinking hearts, knowing not toward what they were going, and at +others rested with the inaction of despair. When the position of the +bright spot which meant the sun told that it lacked but an hour of +sunset, and the clouds seemed to be thickening rather than dispersing, +the Black Beaver gave a long and hideous howl. His wife and daughter +shuddered when they heard it, as would any one, for a more unearthly and +discordant cry was never uttered by man or beast; but they had double +reason to shudder; it was the death cry of their nation. + +"We can never live through another night," said he, and he covered his +face with his arms. + +"Father," said Marie, "try what power there is in the white man's God. +Say that you will give Him your devil-stone if He will save us now." + +"The priest may have it," said the Black Beaver, and he uncovered his +face and sat up as though expecting a miracle. And the miracle came. The +sun was setting behind them, and in front, somewhat above the horizon, +the clouds parted, forming a circle about a white cross which hung +suspended in the air. They all saw it distinctly, but only for a few +moments; then the clouds closed and the vision vanished. With new hope +the little party rowed toward the spot where they had last seen it, and +through the fog they could dimly discern the outlines of the coast--they +were nearing land. A little further on, and a village was visible, which +gained a more and more familiar aspect as they approached. Night settled +down before they reached it, but ere their feet touched the land they +had recognized the mission of St. Ignace. The cross was not a vision. +The clouds had parted to show them the great white landmark and sign +which Father Ignatius had raised upon the little knoll. + +The next day the Black Beaver unearthed his devil-stone, and fastening a +silver chain to it, was about to carry it away and attach it to the +cross, which was already loaded with the gifts of the little colony; +but Marie took it from his hand. "I will give it to the good priest +myself," she said. "He may see fit to place it on the image of the +Virgin in the church." + +A few days later Marie placed the coveted stone in Father Xavier's hand; +but what was his bitter disappointment to find that she had marred the +exquisite thing by a rude attempt at a delineation upon it of the vision +of the cross. She had carefully chiselled away the milky white layer, +excepting on the crests of some very primitive representations of waves, +and within the awkwardly plain cross in the centre of the gem. All his +hopes of cutting a face upon this lovely jewel were crushed; it was +ruined by her unskilful work. Father Xavier was completely master of his +own emotions. He took the stone without remark, and hung it, as Marie +requested, about the neck of the Madonna. Each day as he said mass the +sight of the mutilated jewel roused within him resentful feelings +against poor, well-wishing little Marie. He had been very kind to her +since he had first seen the stone in the possession of her father, but +now it was worse than before. He avoided her markedly, for the smile +which so annoyed him still lighted her face whenever she saw him, and +there was in it a reproachful sadness which was even more aggravating +than its simple childishness had been. + +One day Father Xavier in turning over his papers came across an old +etching of Venus rising from the sea. The figure, with its outstretched +arms, suggested a possibility to him. He made a careful tracing of it, +took it to the church and laid it upon the stone. All of its outlines +came within the white cross; there was still hope for the cameo. All +that winter Father Xavier toiled upon it, exhausting his utmost skill, +but never exhausting his patience. His chief trial was in the extreme +hardness of the stone, which rapidly wore out his graving tools. At last +it was finished, and Father Xavier confessed to himself, in all +humility, that he had not only never executed so delicate a piece of +workmanship, but he had never seen its equal. Every curve of the +exquisite-hued waves was studied from the swell that sometimes swept +grandly in from the lake on the long reef of rocks a few miles above St. +Ignace. The form of the goddess was modelled from his remembrance of the +Greek antique. It was a gem worthy of an emperor. What should he do with +it? + +As the spring ripened into summer, ambitious thoughts flowered in Père +Francis Xavier's soul. What a grand bishopric this whole western country +would make with its unexplored wealth of mines, and furs, and forest. +Why should he be obliged to make reports of the revenue which his own +financiering had secured to the mission, to the head at Montreal? Why +should not his reverence the Lord Bishop Francis Xavier dwell in an +episcopal palace built somewhere on these lakes, with unlimited +spiritual and temporal sway over all this country? To effect such a +scheme it would be necessary for him to see both the King of France and +the Pope. He was not sure that even if he could return to Europe +immediately, he had the influence necessary in either quarter, but the +cameo was a step in the right direction. Something of the same thought +occurred at the same time to the Bishop of Montreal. Father Xavier's +reports showed the mission to be in a flourishing condition. The first +struggles of the pioneer were over. Father Xavier must not be left in +too luxurious a position. The Chevalier La Salle was now fitting out his +little band designed to explore the lakes and follow the Mississippi +from its source to the Gulf. A most important expedition; it would be +well that the Jesuit fathers should share in the honors if it proved +successful, and if the little party perished in its hazardous +enterprise, Père Francis Xavier could perhaps be spared as easily as any +member of his spiritual army. + +And so, in the summer of 1679, the Chevalier sailed up the Lac du +Dauphin, as Lake Erie was then called, into the Lac d'Orleans, or Huron, +carrying letters in which Père Francis Xavier was ordered to leave his +charge for a time in order to render all the assistance in his power to +the explorers. The Bishop of Montreal could never have guessed with what +heartfelt joy his command was obeyed. Father Xavier was tired of this +peaceful life, tired of "the endless wash of melancholy waves," of the +short cool summers, and long white blank of winter; tired of inaction, +of the lack of stimulating surroundings, of the gentleness of Father +Ignatius and Marie's haunting smile. Here, too, might be the very +occasion he craved of making himself famous and deserving of reward as +an explorer. It was true that he started as a subordinate, but that was +no reason that he should return in the same capacity. Marie had served +the noble guests with pleasant alacrity, passing the rainbow-tinted +trout caught as well as broiled by her own hand, and the luscious +huckleberries in tasteful baskets of her own braiding, and Tontz Main de +Fer, the chivalric companion and friend of La Salle, was moved like +Geraint, served by Enid, "to stoop and kiss the dainty little thumb that +crossed the trencher." The salutation was received with unconscious +dignity by little Marie; once only was Père François Xavier annoyed by +the absence of a display of childish pleasure in an ever ready smile. + +History tells how trial and privation of every kind waited on this +little band of heroic men--how hunger, and cold, and fever dogged their +steps; how the Indians proved treacherous and hostile; how, having +reached central Illinois after incredible exertion, they found +themselves in the dead of winter unable to proceed further, and +surrounded by tribes incited against them by some unknown enemy. A +fatality seemed to hang over them; suspicious occurrences indicated that +they had a traitor among their number, but he was never discovered. La +Salle did not despair or abandon the enterprise, but when six of his +most trusted men mutinied and deserted, he lost hope, and became seized +with a presentiment that he would never return from his expedition. +Father Xavier was his confidant as well as confessor, but he seems not +to have been able to disperse the gloom which settled over the leader's +mind. Perhaps he did not endeavor to do so. Hopeless but still true to +his trust, La Salle constructed near Peoria a fort which he named +Crèvecoeur, in token of his despondency and disappointment. Leaving +Tontz Main de Fer in command here with the greater part of his men, he +set out with five for Frontenac, on the 2d of March, 1680, intending to +return with supplies to take command again of his party, and to proceed +southward. It was at this point that the most inexplicable event of the +entire enterprise occurred. Before the party divided _some one_ +attempted to poison the Chevalier La Salle. The poison was a subtle and +slow one, similar in its effects to those used by the Borgia family; the +secret of its manufacture was thought to be unknown out of Italy. +Fortunately he had taken an under or overdose of it, and the effects +manifested themselves only in a long illness. He was too far on his +journey from Fort Heartbreak when stricken down to return to it, and was +mercifully received and nursed back to health by the friendly +Pottawottamies. + +While the leader was lying sick in an Indian lodge, the knightly Tontz, +ignorant of the fate of his friend, was having his troubles at the +little fort of Heartbreak. Père François Xavier had remained with him, +and aided him with counsels and personal exertions; he had made himself +so indispensable that he was now lieutenant; if anything should happen +to Tontz, he would be commander. He was secretary of the expedition, +drew careful maps, and made voluminous daily entries in a journal, which +was afterward found to be a marvel of painstaking both in the facts and +fictions which it contained. Scanty mention was there of La Salle and +Tontz Main de Fer, and much of Père François Xavier, but it was clear, +explicit, depicting the advantages of an acquisition of this territory +to the crown of France in glowing terms, and strongly advising that the +man who had most distinguished himself in the difficulties of its +discovery should be appointed as governor, or baron, under the royal +authority. + +While Father Xavier was compiling this remarkable piece of authorship, +the Iroquois descended in warlike array upon the somewhat friendly +disposed Illinois Indians, in whose midst Fort Crèvecoeur had been +built. The suspicious Indian mind immediately connected the advent of +their enemies with the building of the fort, and regarded the little +garrison with distrust. Tontz, at the instance of Father Xavier, +presented himself to their chief, and offered to do anything in his +power to prove his friendly intentions. The chief accepted his services, +and sent him as ambassador to inquire into the cause of the coming of +the Iroquois. This mission had nearly been his last, for Tontz was +received with stabs, and hardly allowed to give the message of the +chief. His ill treatment at the hands of their enemies did not reassure +the suspicious Illinois, who ordered Tontz to immediately evacuate the +fort and return with his forces to the country whence he had come. In +his wounded condition such a journey was extremely hazardous, and it +must have been with grave doubts as to his surviving it that Father +Xavier took temporary command of the returning expedition. + +It was the spring of 1681. Father Xavier had been absent nearly two +years. Father Ignatius missed him sadly--all the life and fire seemed to +have gone out of the mission. Even Marie moved about her work in a +listless, languid way, which contrasted markedly with her once lithe and +rapid movements. They had not once heard from the explorers, and Father +Ignatius shook his head sadly, and feared that he would never see his +energetic colleague again. The Black Beaver had slept through the last +months of winter, and, as with the general awakening of spring the bears +came out of their dens, and the snakes sunned themselves near their +holes, he too stretched himself lazily and awoke to a consciousness of +what was passing around him. In the first place something was amiss with +Marie. When she came to the wigwam it was not to chat merrily of the +affairs of the mission. She did not braid as many baskets as formerly, +and no longer showed him new patterns in shell mosaic on the lids of +little boxes. He was a curious old man, and he soon drew her secret from +her. Marie loved Père François Xavier, and he had gone. + +The Black Beaver went down to the mission one evening and had a long +talk with Father Ignatius. He ascertained first that Père François +Xavier really meant to return; then, with all the dignity of an old +feudal baron, he offered Marie as a bride for his spiritual son. Very +gently the good Père Ignace explained that Romish priests were so nearly +in the kingdom of heaven that the question of marrying and giving in +marriage was not for them to consider. The Black Beaver went home, told +no one of his visit, and for several days indulged in the worst drunken +spree of which he was capable. When he came out of it he announced to +his wife and Marie that he was going away on his annual trip for stores, +but that they need not accompany him. + +Marie knelt as usual in the little church on the evening of the day on +which her father had gone away. Père François Xavier had replaced the +cameo on the Virgin's breast before he went; it was a safer place than +the vault of a bank would have been, had such a thing existed in the +country. There was no one in the island sacrilegious enough to rob the +church. Marie had gazed at the stone each time that she repeated the +prayer which he had taught her. She looked up now, and it was gone. + +Half-way upon their northward route, Tontz's band were struggling +wearily on when they were met by a solitary Indian, who, though he +carried a long bow, had not an unfriendly aspect. He eyed the little +band silently as they passed by him in defile, then ran after them, and +inquired if the Père François Xavier, of Mission St. Ignace, was not of +their number. He was informed that the reverend father had remained a +short distance behind to write in his journal, but that he would soon +overtake them; and he was warmly pressed to remain with them if he had +messages for the priest, and give them to him when he arrived; but the +Indian shook his head and passed on in the direction in which they told +him he would be likely to meet Father Xavier. The party halted and +waited hour after hour for the priest, but he did not come. Finally two +went back in search, and found him lying upon the sod with upturned +face--the place where he had written last in his journal marked by a few +drops of his heart's blood, and the long shaft of an arrow protruding +from his breast. They drew it out, but the arrow-head had been attached, +as is the custom in some Indian tribes, by means of a soft wax, which is +melted by the warmth of the body, and it remained in the heart. Father +Xavier had been dead some hours. They buried him where they found him, +and proceeded on their march. Tontz recovered on the way. They reached +Michillimackinack in safety, where they were joined two months later by +La Salle; and the world knows the result of his second expedition. + +Little Marie learned by degrees to smile again, and in after years +married another arrow-head maker, as swarthy and as shaggy as the Black +Beaver. There is no moral to my story except that of poetic justice. +Père François Xavier had sown a plentiful crop of stratagems, and he +learned in the lonely forest that "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he +also reap." + +Meanwhile to all but you, my readers, the Crèvecoeur cameo remains as +great a mystery as ever. + + LIZZIE W. CHAMPNEY. + + + + +MONSIEUR DELILLE. + +NOTE-BOOK OF A SECRETARY OF LEGATION. + + +The newspapers of Berlin announced the arrival of a superior artist, the +celebrated M. Delille of the Théâtre Français de Paris, where he had +played first parts. Born and bred in the French metropolis, it was +believed he would not only open new sources of amusement to the public, +but add elegance to the French even of the highest regions. Everybody +was talking of him. His acquisition, rendered possible only by a +_différend_ with the Paris manager, was a triumph for Berlin. I was +quite curious to see him. + +One day I stepped into Rey's perfumery shop to buy some cologne water. +The rooms were crowded with fashionable ladies looking over the +glittering and fragrant assortment of _savons de toilette_, _pâtes +d'amandes_, _huiles essentielles_, _eaux de vie aromatisées_, etc. While +making my purchase, a very handsome fellow came in who excited unusual +attention. His toilette _recherchée_, his noble but modest air made one +look at him again and again. He spoke with Rey in a voice so harmonious +and in such French as one does not hear every day even in Paris. I +heard a lady whisper to another: "Ah, voilà qui est parlez Français +(that is the way to speak French)." The stranger was certainly +_somebody_, or so many furtive glances would not have been cast at him. +I might, by inquiry, easily have ascertained who he was, but I found a +kind of pleasure in prolonging my curiosity. The Emperor Nicholas of +Russia was daily expected. He was supposed to be the handsomest man in +the world. But he was six feet two, taller than this person. The Grand +Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin had arrived the previous afternoon; but, it +seemed to me, no German could speak French with just that modulation. +The Prince de Joinville was expected. Perhaps it was he. + +"Will you kindly give yourself the trouble to send the box to M. +Delille, Friedrich strasse 30?" + +Ah ha! _Le voilà!_ There was my man. Strange I had not thought of him. + +I had a season ticket at the French theatre for the purpose of learning +French, and I had been as much entertained as instructed (I mean +instructed in the language). Every one knows a Frenchman can infuse airy +elegance into a button, bestow a marketable value upon a straw, breathe +_esprit_ into a feather, and make ten dishes out of a nettle-top. So the +poet can transform any incident into an attractive vaudeville. The +tender _situation dramatique_, the humorous _coup de théâtre_, _the jeu +d'esprit_ sparkling up into music, the elevated sentiment, the merciless +exposure of vice and folly, the purest and noblest morality, largely +mixed with an ostentatious ridicule of every sacred truth, and an +absolute disregard of every principle of decency and duty, give strange +glimpses into French social life. + +As a school for the French student, however, the theatre is a useful +institution. For French has got to be learned somehow or other. A +dancing master of my acquaintance used always to commence his course by +a short address to his class in which he remarked: "Mesdemoiselles! La +chose la plus importante du monde c'est la danse!" (the most important +thing in the world is dancing.) Perhaps he was right. In that case I +must add that the next most important thing in the world is the French +language; at least to a foreigner on the continent of Europe. Without +that you do not know anything. You are a straw man. You are a deaf and +dumb creature. Ladies gaze at you with compassion, gentlemen with +contempt, children with wonder, while waiters quiz you, cheat you, and +make the imaginary mill behind your back. + +Impressed with the inconvenience of this position, I had long ago +commenced a siege of the French language. I studied it _a fond_. I +looked into every _y_ and _en_. I had attended the French theatre as a +school, and profited by the performances. The company was excellent, +particularly one young girl, Mlle. Fontaine. Her playing was +unsurpassable. She knew always when to go on and when to stop. Perfect +simplicity, a taste never at fault, delightful humor, a high tragic +power; to these add a lovely face, a beautiful form, grace in every +movement, a voice just as sweet as a voice could be, and you have a dim +idea of Mlle. Fontaine. In her private life, moreover, she enjoyed the +reputation of being without reproach. The whole world repeated of her +the old saying: "Elle n'a qu'un défaut, celui de mettre de l'esprit +partout!" (She has but one fault: she touches nothing without importing +to it a charm of her own.) + +When M. Delille came out, Mlle. Fontaine and he generally played +together, amid thundering plaudits of overflowing audiences. Delille +himself was a perfect artist. The French theatre was in its glory. + +One morning, hard at work in my office, I was surprised by a card, +"Monsieur Delille, du Théâtre Français." The gentleman wished to have +the honor of a few moments' conversation. + +The theatre and all the various personages of its imaginary world were +so completely apart from my real life, that I could scarcely have been +more surprised at receiving a card from Louis XIV., or hearing that the +General Napoleon Bonaparte was waiting at the door, and desired the +honor of my acquaintance. + +M. Delille entered, hat in hand, with bow and smile, as I had so often +seen him do in the theatre drawing-rooms. We had a pleasant chat. He +spoke no English, which forced upon me the necessity of exhibiting my +dazzling French. He complimented me upon it. I told him it was +principally owing to himself and to Mlle. Fontaine. This brought out the +object of his visit. He was going to be married. He had been in America, +which emboldened him to consider himself in some sort my countryman, and +to request the honor of my presence at the ceremony. + +"And the lady?" + +"_Monsieur_," he said, "_peut-on douter_? (can you doubt?) Mlle. +Fontaine! You are to come to the French church at 3. You will, then, +will you not, do us the honor to dine at our lodgings, Friedrich +strasse, No. 30?" + +I returned his own answer: + +"Monsieur, peut-on douter?" + +At the hour appointed I was at the church. I found quite an +assembly--artists, painters, sculptors, actors, critics, poets, +newspaper writers, several members of the corps diplomatique, some +officers, a few gentlemen of the court, etc. + +The bride and groom appeared very simply attired. Their deportment was +perfect. The ceremony was impressive. In a short time the holy bands had +made them one. There was no acting about either of them. M. Delille was +pale; Mademoiselle still paler. Their emotion was obviously genuine. +Some folks think when actors tremble or shed tears, it must be only +acting; and that they can get married or die as easily in the world as +on the stage. This is a mistake. Getting really married is as serious a +step to them as to you; and they know that real dying is a very +different thing from those exits which they make at the end of the +tragedy. They struggle with life, and walk forward toward death just as +do their fellow-creatures, who preach from the pulpit, speak in the +Senate, or congregate on the exchange. The rich banker; the +self-important diplomat; the general, covered with orders; the minister, +who holds the helm of state; the emperor, the queen, who deign to honor +the representation with their presence, smile when they behold +themselves reflected on the stage. But there is not so much difference, +as they are pleased to suppose, between themselves and their theatre +colleagues. Shakespeare says: + + All the world's a stage, + And all the men and women merely players. + +The question is, which of these men and women are the best? Perhaps the +theatre statesman would have administered the affairs of his country +with more wisdom; the dramatic banker would have made his money more +honestly and used it with greater discretion; the stage general would +have conducted the war with more humanity and success; and the senators, +in "Julius Cæsar" and "Damon and Pythias," would have been less open to +bribery and corruption than the gentlemen who have really occupied +similar positions in the world. Perhaps, if M. Delille had been Admiral +Blank, he would have looked at his chart, and not run his ship upon that +rock in the Mediterranean on a clear summer morning. Perhaps, if Mme. +Delille had been Empress of France, she would not have striven quite so +hard to bring on the last war with Prussia. + +From the church to the lodgings of Monsieur and Madame Delille. On +passing through the entrance, in Berlin generally a way for horses and +carriages, you would scarcely expect such elegant apartments. The moment +you crossed the threshold you were in another world. Everything rich, +tasteful, new; the walls superbly papered; the woodwork painted like +snow and varnished like a mirror: Brussels carpet, then not over-common +in the richest houses; lounges, _chaises longues_, sofas, divans; a +strong smell of Russia binding from splendid volumes on the table, and +gleaming from mahogany book-cases; beautiful paintings and engravings; a +lavish display of clocks on tables and writing-desks; one, looking down +from a loftier pedestal, clicked audibly the seconds and struck the +quarters with a solemn sound, like the booming of some far-off old +cathedral bell hanging in the clouds. Everything told of the new married +man: everything new, bright, unexceptionable, faultless, perfect--like +the new wife, the new husband, the new affection, the new hopes, yet +unexposed to the wear and tear of years. + +I was among the first. My host and hostess awaited their guests. +Mademoiselle--I beg her pardon--madame received me with graceful +cordiality. The company immediately began to appear, principally +performers whose faces I had never seen before, except on the stage, +associated with incidents, words, actions, intrigues, and scenes of the +poet's imagination. I enjoyed as if I had been a boy, recognizing the +various characters whose pranks, joys, and sorrows I had followed with +so much interest: the wicked "jeune homme à la mode," the bewitching +"femme de chambre," the _vieux_ "général sous l'empire," the rich +_banquier de Paris_, the handsome, dangerous _guardien_, the naughty +husband who had exclaimed, "Ciel ma femme!" the jealous lover, the +hard-hearted landlord, and the _comique_ of the troupe, upon whose +mobile face I could scarcely look without laughing when he asked me: +"Voulez-vous bien avoir la bonté de passer le sel?" There were present +several from the court: the Marquis de B----, who in private theatricals +at the King's had distinguished himself; M. le Comte de S----, supposed +to be a little _impressionné_ by Mlle. Zoé, the last successful +débutante, and now among the guests. + +Mme. Delille looked like a lady born, and did the honors of her house +like one. The servant announced the dinner, and we adjourned to the +dining-room. + +The dinner was _on ne peut pas mieux_. I sat between the lady of the +house and Mlle. Zoé. One of the French arts is that of placing people at +ease in society. It is not uncommon to meet persons not wanting in +intelligence, yet who, unless you draw them out, will simply remain in +the whole evening. My charming neighbors drew me out immediately. They +possessed a magnetism which made talking, and in one's best style, as +easy as flying to a bird. Mlle. Zoé said a great many brilliant and +surprising things; but Mme. Delille's manners and conversation were far +superior. I found in her a thoughtful, cultivated, balanced mind, +inspiring genuine esteem. I was struck by her views of political events +and characters. She touched lightly and skilfully upon various +personages with wisdom and humor, but with charity. She referred to her +own position in life as an actress in a way which interested me +extremely, and she found opportunity amid the miscellaneous conversation +to relate her history, and how she came to adopt a profession contrary +to her taste; and a more touching story I never heard. The conversation +even ascended to higher subjects. I was not a little astonished to find +in a young and universally flattered French actress a noble-minded, +superior woman, who had suffered deeply, and thought seriously and +spiritually upon subjects generally considered irreconcileable with her +profession. + +The dinner was finished; the nuts and the jokes were cracked; the café, +the chasse-café, the enigmas, the conundrums, the anecdotes, the songs, +the _tableaux-vivants_ followed each other. My amiable hostess seemed to +think I must have had enough of it, and, with her graceful +acquiescence, I stole out after a confidential pantomimic leave-taking +with her and my host. + +I became subsequently well acquainted with Monsieur and Madame Delille, +and have seldom known more interesting persons. Occasionally they +invited me to a quiet family dinner, where I always met one or two +distinguished guests; and sometimes I had the pleasure of having them at +my house in a quiet way. They both rose more and more in my esteem the +more I observed their inner life and character. As years rolled on, my +visits were enlivened by the sight of small drums, trumpets, horses with +their tails pulled out, and dolls with their noses knocked off. +Sometimes very pretty little cherubs peeped in at the door, or were +invited for half an hour to the dinner table. + +The world went on with its ways. More than one throne was vacated and +filled anew. Great knotty questions of diplomacy rose and disappeared. +Mehemet Ali, M. Thiers, the King of Hanover, Metternich, the Chartist, +the anti-corn law league, Sir Robert and Mr. Cobden filled the +newspapers. Nations growled at each other like bulldogs, and we had wars +and rumors of wars a plenty. + +One day who should come in but Monsieur and Madame Delille, the very +picture of a perfectly happy man and wife. They came to bid me good-by. +He had made his fortune, wound up his affairs with the theatre, and +abandoned his profession for ever. Madame was at the summit of earthly +felicity. She spoke with inexpressible delight of the change in her +life. She had longed so often to quit the theatre, and now at last her +dream was realized. M. Delille was going to buy a cottage in the south +of France, and to be perfectly happy with his dear wife and four +children. Amid oranges, lemons, and grapes, beneath the blue summer sky, +surrounded by flowers, the waves of the beautiful Mediterranean breaking +at his feet, he intended to pass the rest of his days in unclouded +peace and joy. He had worked all his life, and now he was going to take +his reward. + +"But," said I, "did you say _four_ children?" + +"_Mais oui!_ I have four. + +"Why, it seems but yesterday that----" + +"_Comptez donc!_ Six years and six months." + +His picture of future felicity was very bright. I thought in my heart +that such plans of retirement were--but I suppressed my sermon and +congratulated him upon his prospects. Why should I disturb his happiness +even though it might be a dream? What but a dream would have been even +the realization of all his hopes? + +We parted after embracing like old friends. I had more respect for those +two than I had for a great many whose sonorous titles did not cover +qualities half so estimable, manners half so agreeable, characters half +so pure, or a sense of religion half so true and deep. + +The French theatre declined after the departure of Monsieur and Madame +Delille. I had entirely ceased attending or taking any interest in it. + +Two years passed, when one day, in a lonely part of the Thiergarten, I +met--whom do you think? M. Delille; but pale, sad, solitary, subdued. + +"Well, here I am again," said he. "All my fine dreams have disappeared. +I won't bore you with the story. The fact is--that is to say--one can +never count upon one's plans in this world. I have lost my fortune, and +accepted an invitation to become director of the Berlin French theatre. +I am to form a new company. There is a great opposition to this, and the +matter has raised up against me furious enemies. They accuse me of +everything base. You know me. You know I would not be guilty of anything +dishonorable." + +I looked into his sad, ingenuous face, and replied: + +"I am sure you would not." + +"Oh, I thank you. But the worst remains to be told. My wife--my poor, +dear wife--who had been my consolation in all this trouble! _Pauvre +Marie!_ she is very ill, and I was obliged to leave her in Paris, or to +lose all our prospects. She would have it so. This annoys me. This makes +me unhappy. With her I am proof against all troubles. Ah, monsieur, you +do not know my Marie. The most faithful, the most gentle, the purest, +the----" + +"But is she so dangerously ill?" + +"I hope not. I think not. She will be here in a few weeks. The doctor +has given me his _word of honor_." + +A couple of months more. A series of articles, in the mean time, +appeared in the newspapers against M. Delille and the new French theatre +government. The venomous shafts were launched by an able hand. Gall is +sweet compared with them. An actor is the most sensitive of human +beings. His reputation is his all. The personal malice and interest of +the writer were obvious, but the public were too busy to examine. The +crowd enjoy a battle, without caring much about the right. + +I met M. Delille a few days after the appearance of the fifth of these +articles, and expressed my indignation. His manner of viewing the +subject was really noble and more instructive to me than many a sermon. +He spoke temperately of the _désagrément_ of his position and the wisdom +of keeping on his way calmly. "An actor," he said, "is a public target. +Every one has the right to shoot at him. I cannot always forget, but I +try to forgive." + +"And your wife?" + +His face darkened. + +"Oh, I am weary. She does not get well. She lingers on. She is not +strong enough to come to me. I cannot go to her. She will not consent. +They would declare I had run away. Her short letters are full of +encouragement and consolation. Ah, if these men knew--but we must be +patient. The doctor positively assures me she is doing very well." + +Three weeks later I was again taking a walk through the Thiergarten, +wrapped in my cloak, for it was winter, when I perceived M. Delille +sitting on a quite wet bench. His face was very pale. I never saw a +sadder expression. Hoping to rally him, I said: + +"What a melancholy countenance! What a brown study! Come, I have arrived +in time to laugh to you and of it!" + +His face did not reply to my gayety. He asked after my health. + +"But you are sitting on a wet, snowy bench. You will take cold." + +"No, I shall not take cold." + +"And how," said I, "is your----" + +I paused, for I now for the first time remarked a black crape on his +hat. + +He perceived my embarrassment and relieved me. + +"My children?" + +I was silent. + +"They are very well, I thank you--they are very well." + +"Come," added he, with an effort, after covering his eyes a moment with +his hand, "what have we now? Is there _really_ to be a war?" + + THEODORE S. FAY. + + + + +INFLUENCES. + + + The southern bird, which, swift in airy speed, + Toward ruder regions wings its careless way, + Wafts from its plumage oft a floating seed, + Unheeded relic of some tropic day. + + And lo! a wonder! on the spot beneath + The tiny germ asserts its mystic power; + With sudden bloom illumes the rugged heath, + And bursts at once to fragrance, light, and flower. + + All the sad woodland flushes at the sight: + The brook, which murmured, sparkles now, and sings: + The cowslips watch, with yearning, strange delight, + The bird which shed such glories from its wings, + + Watching it hover onward free and far; + Breathing farewell with restless doubt and pain. + What were a heaven with but one only star? + Must this be all? Will it not come again? + + While the new lily, lonely in her pride, + Sighing through silver bells, repeats the strain, + Longing for sister blossoms at her side, + And whispering soft, Will it not come again? + + CHARLES CARROLL. + + + + +DRIFT-WOOD. + + + + +THE TWELVE-MONTH SERMON. + + +The year's end is traditionally the season for moralizing and +retrospect. _Eheu! fugaces anni_ is a sigh that even the Latin primer +teaches us; and though in schoolbook days calling the years fugacious +seems absurd, we catch the meaning as they glide away. To schoolboys the +man of fifty is immoderately old: thirty marks a milestone on the +downhill of life. People whom we looked upon as of great antiquity, in +childhood, turn out to have been mere striplings. I saw "old Kent" +yesterday after the lapse of thirty years, and protest he was younger +than when he rapped sepulchral silence from his resounding desk. "How +are you, Quilibet First?" he said, quite in the ancient way; he seemed +once more to brandish the ferrule on his awful throne. + +Boys always call schoolmasters and sextons "old," irrespective of their +years. Clerks in the shop style their employer "the old gentleman" +without meaning to impute antiquity. Gray-haired diggers and pounders +speak of their overseer as "the old man," even though he be a +rosy-cheeked youth of two-and-twenty. Lexicographers should look to +this. "Old" evidently means sometimes "having independent authority," +and does not necessarily signify either lack of freshness or being +stricken in years. Thus Philip Festus Bailey's dictum, that "we live in +deeds, not years," is borne out by common parlance, and future +Worcesters and Websters must make a note of it. + +Whoever, also, reaches a fixed position of authority, seems (rightly +enough, as the world goes) to have achieved success in life. This +measurement of success by the kind of occupation one follows begins with +us in short clothes. Mary's ambition is to be "either a milliner, a +queen, or a cook;" the ideal of Augustus is a woodchopper, killing bears +when they attack him at his work, and living in a hut. The sons of +confectioners must be marvels if they grow up alike unspoiled in morals +by the universal envy of comrades, and unspoiled in teeth by the +parental sugar-plums. People of older growth attach childish importance +to the trade one plies. Nobs and nabobs (at least on the stage) +disinherit daughters offhand for marrying grocers, and groan over sons +who take to high art. The smug and prudent citizen shudders at the +career of the filibuster, while the adventurer would commit suicide +rather than achieve a modest livelihood in tape and needles. The mother +of Sainte Beuve was sorely distressed at his pursuit of literature, a +career that she reckoned mere vagabondage, despite his brilliant feats +in it, until the day he was elected to the French Academy, and thereby +became entitled to $300 a year. "Then my mother was a little reassured; +thenceforth, _j'avais une place_." + +When the close of the year sets us to reckoning up how much we have made +of life, pray what is that "success" of which we all talk so glibly? It +is plainly a standard varying according to each man's taste and +temperament, his humility or vanity, and shifting as his life advances. +What to the Bohemian is success to the Philistine is stark failure. The +anchoret looks on this sublunary sphere as one of sighing, the attorney +as one of suing--there being all that difference betwixt law and gospel. +Sixty years cannot see life through the eyes of sixteen. When men, +fearing to measure themselves, seek the judgment of their fellows, +adulation or affection may lead astray. In the year's retrospect of +science, touching the solar eclipse it is said: "Cape Flattery is our +northwestern cape, and there occurred the largest obscuration of the sun +in the United States." "Cape Flattery," I fear, is the locus of largest +obscuration for the United States every year, and was particularly so in +the past twelvemonth of jubilee and gratulation; and what the mantle of +flattery is for the sunlight of truth in the nation it is in the +individual. In politics, at any rate, the centennial year is closing +with some reproof of our all-summer conceit. Our frame of government is +not so flawless as we fancied; the pharisaic contrast we drew between +our politics and those of other nations is no longer so effective. + +And with men as with nations, a ray of clear light reveals the shams and +shortcomings of what is hastily styled success. The pushing, elbowing +fellow gets ahead in the struggle of life, but his success is a +questionable one. The bargaining man, who, partly by instinct and partly +by practice, judges everything from the point of view, "How is that +going to affect me?" will no doubt make money. Even his most +disinterested advice pivots on the thought, "What will pay me best?" as +the magnet surely wheels to the pole. But when all is done, to have +achieved this artistic perfection of self-seeking is a sorry account to +give of life. + +Thus, the very successes on which we plume ourselves are sometimes +badges of disaster, as we ourselves may secretly know if others do not. +"When one composes long speeches," says Jarno, "with a view to shame his +neighbors, he should speak them to a looking-glass." If not a hypocrite +or a vain man, he may find himself blushing at the thought _de me fabula +narratur_. The only alteration that our satire on others may require is +to change the name of the folly or fault we lash, and then the stripes +will be merited by ourselves. The other day Temple and I listened to a +discourse of the Rev. Dr. Waddell of St Magdalen's on the perils of +novel-reading. I think the worthy doctor really refrains from that sin; +he is certainly severe on those who are given to it. "That fat man," +said Temple, as we strolled away from St. Magdalen's sanctuary, "is too +greedy, too gluttonous to listen to any cry but that of his own stomach. +His god is his belly. His indifference to the sufferings of others +amounts to a disease." + +"What disease do you call it?" I asked. + +"Fatty degeneration of the heart," replied Temple, with a laugh. On the +other hand, quite shocked at people who "make pigs" of themselves, is +Mrs. Pavanne, who starves her stomach to beautify her back, and who, I +assure you, would prefer after three days' fasting a new boiled silk and +trimmings to any similarly treated leg of mutton and capers. + +Grundy is a model of social demeanor and domesticity, but occasionally +cheats in a bargain wherever it is safe; Gregory, honest as the day, +gets tipsy. Let Gregory remember his own weakness before scorning +Grundy, and let Grundy respect the good in Gregory before holding him up +to disgrace. The question is often not whether X is a saint and Y a +Satan, but rather what road a man's indulgence takes. Is it body or +spirit that rules him--his fear, lust, vanity, gluttony, surliness, or +sloth? his humility, generosity, piety, sense of justice, sense of duty? +Is his cardinal weakness a vice or only a foible--a crime that degrades +or only a pettiness that narrows him? + +If we hold with Scripture that he who ruleth his spirit is greater than +he that taketh a city, we must not give all the laurels of success to +the mighty, wealthy, witty, and renowned. Poor John Jones, the clerk +yonder at a thousand a year, if we reckon at anything gentleness, +courage, simplicity, devotion to mother, wife, and babes, has made as +great a success of life as old Rollin Ritchie, the head of the house. +You would imagine a first use of wealth to be the liberty to pick at +will one's employees and allies, one's friends and agents, to repel the +dishonest and rebuke the impudent, dealing with those whom one chooses +to deal with, where personal choice can fairly be exercised; but such a +privilege is Utopian in business, even among men of fortune, and envied +Ritchie has little more freedom than humble Jones. Besides, the pursuit +of startling success, though it often ruins possibilities of +contentment, rarely creates them. Frédéric Soulié, having had the +misfortune to gain $16,000 in one year by his pen, refused a government +place at $3,000, with leisure to write an occasional play or a novel; he +was eager to produce half a dozen plays and novels in a twelvemonth, +says a biographer, and to repeat his $16,000; and he died of work and +watching in two years more. + +We are not, in these kindly Christmas days, to cynically deny to +unpromising careers all power of recovery. Temple was telling me the +other day of this instance known to him: Honorius had an exceedingly +dissolute son, who pursued his vicious courses almost unchecked by +parental rein, until he seemed to think his iniquities the rather +fostered than forbidden. But one day a friend of both questioned the +father why he allowed his son such abused license? "Sir," replied he, +"if my son chooses to go to the devil, as he is now fast going, he alone +must take the consequences." The conversation being reported to our +young rake, he was so affected by the view of his responsibility, which +he now appreciated for the first time, as to turn back toward the way of +virtue. And as before he had conceived his father in some sort liable +for those scandalous excesses, so now, being driven from that strange +error, he chooses for himself the path of honor and usefulness. + +In judging unsuccessful lives, too, we need to make large allowance for +the unknown elements of fortune. "It is fate," says the Greek adage, +"that bringeth good and bad to men; nor can the gifts of the immortals +be refused." But we can find justification for charitable judgments +without resorting to this general theory. We discover one youth, who +promised well, ruined by a bad choice of profession, while a second, who +selected well, finds the immediate problem in life to be not personal +eminence, but providing for a wife and half a dozen children: and if he +does fitly provide for them, pray, why set down his life, however pruned +of its first ambitious pinions, as a failure? + +So, finally, our unaspiring old-year homily simply chimes in with the +traditional spirit of Christmastide--season of hopeful words and wishes, +of kindness for the struggling, of encouragement for the discouraged, of +charity for the so-called failures. + + + + +RIBBONS AND CORONETS AT MARKET RATES. + + +It is said that a Yankee has arranged to furnish foreign titles +(warranted genuine) of "earl or count for $10,000; European orders, from +$250 to $10,000; membership in foreign scientific and literary +societies, $250 and upward." The story is plausible. Impecunious princes +and potentates have been known to replenish their purses in this way, +though hitherto usually by private sale rather than market quotations. +It is not probable that our ingenious countryman has the Order of the +Seraphim or of the Annonciade at disposal, or that he can supply the +Golden Fleece to whoever will "gif a good prishe," or even that he +would pretend to furnish the Black Eagle of Prussia in quantities to +suit purchasers. He can hardly be the medium of creating many Knights of +the Garter, nor can the Bath or the St. Michael and St. George very well +be in his list of decorations "to order." But we know from the Paris and +Vienna fairs that a Cross of the Legion is obtainable by Americans of +the mercantile class; and as for the Lion and the Sun, it was an order +created by some bygone shah for the express purpose of rewarding +strangers who had rendered service to Persia; and what service more +substantial, pray, than helping to fill the Persian purse? When you come +to central and southern Europe, titles are going a-begging, and hard-up +princelets will presumably be eager to raise the wind with them. + +And there will be buyers as well as sellers. To the democratic mind a +royal star or ribbon is an object of befitting reverence. None of our +countrymen would, indeed, on purchasing a title, really ask to be +addressed as "Your lordship," or even to be familiarly called Grand +Forester or Sublime Bootjack to His Serene Highness--unless in private, +by some very much indulged servitor or judicious retainer. But though +the badge of nobility may not be worn in the streets by the happy +purchaser, for fear of attracting a rabble of the curious, he can fondly +gaze upon it in the privacy of home, or try it on for the admiration of +the domestic circle, or haply submit it to the inspection of discreet +friends. + +The case is different with the "bogus diploma" trade. Business and not +vanity is doubtless the ruling motive with the foreigners who strut in +plumage bought of the Philadelphia "university." The diploma of M. D. is +worth its price for display before the eyes of the patients waiting in +the "doctor's" office, while to Squeers of Dotheboys Hall the degree of +A. M. is good for at least three new pupils, and Ph. D. for a dozen. I +presume that in some of the foreign magazines and weekly newspapers of a +certain class, D. D. or L.L. D. has a real cash value of at least five +per cent. more in pay, or perhaps it may turn the scale in favor of an +article which, without that honorary signature, might be put in the +waste-paper basket. So long as such practical results can be had the +diploma trade is likely to flourish, with full variety offered to +buyers. + +Now, it is not impossible to turn to trade account an Order of the +Elephant, of the Iron Crown, of the Legion of Honor, or of the +Medjidieh, as probably shrewd mechanics,contractors, and tradesmen in +America and England can attest. But while this is an additional +inducement to buyers, I am sure the new industry appeals to a loftier +emotion than that of mere money-making. America, in fact, is ripe for +this improvement. The modern phrase of ambition here in America is +"social status;" and dealers in heraldry are doing a business so +thriving in coats of arms for seal rings and scented note-paper, that I +fancy it is this that has suggested the trade in noble titles. The +village of Podunk looks down on the neighboring town of Hardscrabble. +"Hardscrabble," say the scornful Podunkers, "plumes itself on its +wealth, but Podunk prides herself on her birth--on her extremely old +families!" In fact you find all over the republic people talking of +their aristocratic families, and their "refined neighborhood," and +"refined birth"--even where, after all, it may be only a case of refined +petroleum. + +Here, then, is the sphere and the opportunity for the enterprising +middleman. He appeals to a tuft-hunting instinct so deep in human nature +that the mere surface difference of republic or monarchy hardly touches +it. In a London church you will see a pew full of ladies' maids, and +presently there is a great crowding and squeezing, and a low whisper of +"make room for Lady Philippa." It is only another lady's maid joining +her friends; but they all get titles by reflection. Turn from this scene +to the New York area steps, and the artful little rascal who is peddling +strawberries, says to Bridget, who answers the bell, "Have some berries, +_lady_?" knowing that this will make a market, if anything can. The fact +is, we all like to be "Colonel" and "Deacon" and "Doctor," instead of +simple Jones, Brown, and Robinson; calling us "the judge" or "alderman" +is a perpetual titillation of a pleasant feeling. "Good morning, Mr. +Secretary," or, "I hope you are very well, State Senator," is a greeting +that carries a kind of homage with it; and from that you go upward in +titular recognition of official eminence until you come to "His Great +Glorious and most Excellent Majesty, who reigns over the Kingdoms of +Thunaparanta and Tampadipa and all the Umbrella-Bearing Chiefs of the +Eastern Country, the King of the Rising Sun, Lord of the Celestial +Elephants, Master of Many White Elephants, the Great Chief of +Righteousness, King of Burmah." + +_Macte virtute_ I would say, then, to the peddlers of stars, crosses, +garters, and A. S. S.'s. There are poverty-stricken principalities and +hard-up beys and khedives enough to find ribbons for a thousand American +buttonholes, and to turn ten thousand of our exemplary fellow citizens +to chevaliers. An envious public sentiment might prevent the wearing of +all the ribbons and crosses that a liberal man of means could buy; but +decorations, like doorplates, are "so handy to have in the house." The +centennial year, by bringing to our shores a shoal of titled personages, +has presumably whetted the appetite of our people for heraldic +distinctions. But for years before we had even the village tailor +appearing occasionally in the local newspaper as Sir Knight Shears, and +the apothecary as Most Worthy Grand Commander and Puissant Potentate +Senna. If it is pleasant for Bobby Shears and Sammy Senna to be knighted +by their cronies and customers, how much more agreeable to the American +mind a decoration and investiture from a real prince! + +The possibilities, to be sure, are limited. Aristocratic exclusiveness +confines the Garter to twenty-five persons, the Order of the Thistle is +only for Scotch nobles, and the Iron Cross of Savoy is purely Italian; +military or naval services are required for the St. George of Russia and +the Victoria Cross; and it is to be feared that some sort of illustrious +services would be needed even for the Leopold of Belgium, the Iron Cross +of Prussia, the St. James of Spain, or the Tower and Sword of Portugal. +But in the little principalities of Germany, where the people are +ravenous for titular distinctions, there is a large supply; and as, in +fine, there are said to be sixscore orders of chivalry scattered over +both Christian and Mussulman lands, a wealthy aspirant may not despair +of reaching one or two of them without the pangs of knight errantry. + + PHILIP QUILIBET. + + + + +SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + + + + +COMPLICATIONS OF THE CHANNEL TUNNEL. + + +Baron von Weber, a distinguished English engineer, predicts that the +Channel tunnel between England and France, if constructed, will be the +cause of great annoyance to English railway managers, and bring forward +some very acute observations in support of this opinion. + +_The English railway system was a world of its own_; it was an insular +world which could hardly have been more peculiar if it had belonged to +another quarter of the globe altogether. All this, however, will change +as soon as the tunnel is pierced between England and the Continent. + +_England will then no longer be an island, but a peninsula_, and +although the isthmus which connects it with the Continent will be +submarine, its effect on the railway system will be exactly the same as +if it were a natural one. + +If the importance of the object to be attained by the Channel tunnel is +to bear any rational proportion at all to the means required, the tunnel +will be constructed only if a very considerable goods traffic between +the two shores is expected, besides the large passenger traffic. Such a +traffic, which would have to compete with sea carriage, is only possible +for goods if shifting the loads is completely avoided, and the wagons +and trucks can run from England far into the Continent and _vice versa_. +Now the English exports to the Continent far exceed the imports from it. +The English trucks, therefore, loaded with rails, machines, coals, +cotton goods, etc., will, after passing the tunnel, be scattered far and +wide on the continental railways (whose length exceeds threefold that of +the whole British system), and will have to run distances five times as +great as from London to the Highlands. + +The English railway companies, who are now able to follow their rolling +stock almost with the naked eye, who know exactly how long each truck +will take to run the short distances in their island, who can, +therefore, provide proper loads both for the up and down journeys, +hence making the best use of their stock, and who are always aware in +whose hands their trucks are, will suddenly see a great number of them +disappear out of their sight and beyond their control on long journeys +and unknown routes. They will no longer be able to calculate, even +approximately, when the stock will return. England will therefore lose +an important percentage of its rolling stock, which will be but +incompletely replaced by the foreign wagons, which will remain in +England a much shorter time on account of the shorter distances. The +deficiency will have to be made up at considerable expense. The stock +will travel as far as the shores of the Black and Egean seas, to the +east coast of the Baltic, to the southernmost point of Italy, and to the +Pyrenees; it will pass over the lines of a dozen or more foreign +companies, be brought under the influence of three or four different +legislatures, police regulations, by-laws, Government inspections, etc., +and where three or four different languages are officially in use. + +Quite new legal obligations and intricacies will appear if the companies +having to forward goods direct into foreign countries send their wagons +into the territories of different jurisdictions. It will not be of much +use if the English companies attempt formally to confine their +transactions to the French railway which joins theirs. Claims from +Turkish, Russian, Austrian, Italian, German, Belgian, and French +railways will still be brought against them, in some cases requiring +direct and immediate communication. + + + + +A TOWN OF DWARFS. + + +A writer in the London "Times" describes the effect of excessive +intermarriage on the inhabitants of Protés, a little town in the +province of Santander, Spain. Until eighteen or nineteen years ago, the +village was quite shut off from the rest of the world. Its inhabitants, +from their ever-recurring intermarriages, had become quite a race of +dwarfs. On market days the priests might be seen, with long black coats +and high black hats, riding in to purchase the simple provision for the +week's consumption--men of little intelligence and no learning, sprung +from the lowest ranks. About eighteen years ago the Galician laborers, +or Gallegos, from the mines of Galicia, swarmed into the town for +lodgings, etc., and since their colonization the population has +increased in strength, stature, education, intellect, and morality. +Their intellects, also, have improved--intellects which had been +stunted, dwarfed, and ruined by their frequent intermarriages. + + + + +WHOOPING COUGH. + + +According to Dr. Sturges, an English physician, whooping cough is not +always to be escaped by preventing contagion, for at a certain age the +disposition toward this disease is so great that the child will +originate it. He says: "Whooping cough is a nervous disease of immature +life, due immediately, like nervous asthma, to a morbid exaltation of +sensibility of the bronchial mucous membrane. Although possible in a +modified form at all ages, it has its period of special liability and +full development simultaneously with that time of life when the nervous +system is irritable and the mechanism of respiration diaphragmatic. A +child of the proper age with catarrh and cough is thus on the very brink +of whooping cough. A large proportion of such children will develop the +disease for themselves upon casual provocation, all contagion and all +epidemic influence apart." Therefore he does not think contagion plays +the important part generally supposed, and the assumption of a specific +morbid poison is in his opinion entirely gratuitous. As to treatment he +says: + +"The specific remedies for whooping cough (which have their season and +may be said now to include all drugs whatever of any potency) have all +of them a certain testimony in their favor. They agree in a single +point: whether by their nauseousness, the grievous method of their +application, or the disturbance they bring to the child's habits and +surroundings, the best vaunted remedies--emetics, sponging of the +larynx, ill-flavored inhalation, change of scene, beating with the +rod--all are calculated to _impress_ the patient, and find their use +accordingly. + + + + +BRITISH ASSOCIATION NOTES. + + +The committee appointed to test experimentally Ohm's law, that with any +conductor the electromotive force is proportioned to the current +produced, reports that this law is absolutely correct. If a conductor of +iron, platinum, or German silver of one square centimetre in section has +a resistance of one ohm for infinitely small currents, its resistance +when acted on by an electromotive force of one volt (provided its +temperature is kept the same) is not altered by so much as the millionth +of a millionth part. This fine result is the more gratifying since Ohm's +law is entirely empirical and does not rest at all upon logical +deduction. + +The vast amount of water circulating through the solid earth is shown by +the calculations of the committee on the underground waters of the +Permian and New Red sandstones. + +Taking an average rainfall of 30 inches per annum, and granting that +only 10 inches percolate into the rock, the supply of water stored up by +the Permian and New Red formations was estimated by the committee to +amount to 140,800,000 gallons per square mile per year. This rate would +give, for the 10,000 square miles covered by the formations, in Great +Britain, 1,408,000,000,000 gallons. Only a very small proportion of this +amount is made available for the supply of cities and towns. + +The subject of the chemical constitution of matter was taken up by Mr. +Johnstone Stoney, F. R. S., who amused and interested the chemical +section by a number of drawings of tetrahedra, octahedra, etc., on to +which he dexterously stuck representations of oxygen atoms, chlorine +atoms, and so on. His general endeavor seemed to be to convince his +auditors that in most basic salts oxygen is divalent, being in direct +combination with the acidifying constituent of the molecule, but that +when oxygen is not so directly related to this constituent in basic +salts it is tetravalent. + +In the geological section, Dr. Bryce observed that there are two lines +along which earthquakes are commonly observed in Scotland, the one +running from Inverness, through the north of Ireland, to Galway bay, and +the other passing east and west through Comrie. The phenomena of +earthquakes in the latter district are now being systematically +observed and recorded, under the direction of a committee appointed by +the British Association, seismometers being employed on the two +principles of vertical pendulum and delicately poised cylinders. +Arrangements have been made to ascertain whether shocks in this region +can be traced to any common central point, there being reason to believe +them to be connected with a mass of granite in Glen Lednoch, whose +position was indicated on a map exhibited by the author. He thought the +Comrie earthquakes may be explained on Mr. Mallet's theory of a shock +produced by the fall of huge masses of rock from the roof of huger +caverns in the earth's crust. + +In a paper on the plants of the coal measures, Prof. W. C. Williamson +expressed his strong conviction that the flora of the coal measures +would ultimately become the battlefield on which the question of +evolution with reference to the origin of species would be fought out. +There would probably never be found another unbroken period of a +duration equal to that of the coal measures. Further, the roots, seeds, +and the whole reproductive structure of the coal-measure plants are all +present in an unequalled state of preservation. With reference to +calamites, Prof. Williamson said that what had formerly been regarded as +such had turned out to be only casts in sand and mud of the pith of the +true plant. He had lately obtained a specimen of calamite with the bark +on which showed a nucleal cellular pith, surrounded by canals running +lengthwise down the stem; outside of these canals wedges of true +vascular structure; and lastly, a cellular bark. + +In the department of anthropology, Dr. Phené read a paper "On Recent +Remains of Totemism in Scotland." He defined Totemism as a form of +idolatry; a totem was either a living creature or a representation of +one, mostly an animal, very seldom a man. It was considered, from +reference to Pictish and other devices, that a dragon was a favorite +representative among such people of Britain as had not been brought +under Roman sway. + +Mr. W. J. Knowles read a paper "On the Classification of Arrowheads," +recommending the use of the following terms: stemmed, indented, +triangular, leaf-shaped, kite-shaped, and lozenge-shaped. Commander +Cameron, the African explorer, mentioned that arrow-heads of the same +shape as many exhibited by Mr. Knowles were in use in various African +tribes. One shape was formed so as to cause the arrow to rotate, and was +principally used for shooting game at long distances. The shape of the +arrows varied according to the taste of the makers; in one district +there were forty or fifty different shapes. + +Commander Cameron gave drawings of the men with horns, a tribe of which +has been found by Captain J. S. Hay. According to the reproductions of +these drawings by the illustrated papers, these horns are very +prominent, and project forward from the cheekbone. + +Mr. Gwin-Jeffreys, whose experience in deep-sea dredging makes his +opinion valuable, said that telegraph engineers did not sufficiently +take account of the sharp stones on the sea bottom, but assumed too +readily that they had to deal with a soft bottom only. + +Mr. John Murray of the Challenger expedition announced that meteoric +dust is found in the sea ooze, a result that follows as a matter of +course from the discovery that this cosmic dust is falling all over the +earth. + + + + +AN ENGLISH CROP. + + +The yearly trial of harvesting machines was made this year at +Leamington, and the rye grass field, where the reapers and mowers were +worked, has its history given in the "Engineer," London. "It will be +interesting if we first describe this rye grass crop and the preceding +crop. A crop of wheat was grown in this field of seven acres last year, +and by the end of September it was well cultivated and sown with rye +grass seed. Three crops before this have been cut this year, the weight +of which was about eight tons to the acre for each crop, and as the +selling price was 1s. 6d. (36 cents) per cwt., this was at the rate of +£12 ($60) per acre per crop, or £36 per acre for the three crops. Had +not the last crop been set apart for the reaper and mower trials, it +would have been cut three weeks ago, when there were again about eight +tons to the acre. As it was, however, last week the crop had gone too +much to seed, and was too much laid for being of prime quality; the +result of which is, Mr. Tough, the owner, reckons the plants are too +much spent to stand well through a second year, and he therefore +contemplates turning it over in the spring for mangolds. Mr. Tough +calculated, however, that there were ten tons to the acre this cut, and +lots of carts and vans came to take the best of it; that is, the parts +which were not laid and yellow at the bottom, at the same price, 1s. 6d. +per cwt. The carts are weighed in over a weigh-bridge, and weighed out +again after the buyers have loaded up as much as they choose or require. +We may add this is better than selling by square measure. As to the next +growth, Mr. Tough says he shall get two more fair cuts this autumn if +the weather be warm, and he expects the two together will weigh eight +tons per acre more. As there will be a certain sale for this at 1s. 6d. +per cwt., this year's yield will realize the great return of £60 ($300) +per acre. + + + + +INFLUENCE OF WHITE COLORS. + + +Prof. Wallace gave at Glasgow some curious speculations based upon the +peculiarities observable in white animals. He had been discussing at +great length and with rare knowledge the distribution of butterflies, +remarking that some of the island groups were noticeably light-colored, +and endeavored to connect their color with their environment as follows: + +Some very curious physiological facts, bearing upon the presence or +absence of white colors in the higher animals, have lately been adduced +by Dr. Ogle. It has been found that a colored or dark pigment in the +olfactory region of the nostrils is essential to perfect smell, and this +pigment is rarely deficient except when the whole animal is pure white. +In these cases the creature is almost without smell or taste. This, Dr. +Ogle believes, explains the curious case of the pigs in Virginia adduced +by Mr. Darwin, white pigs being poisoned by a poisonous root, which does +not affect black pigs. Mr. Darwin imputed this to a constitutional +difference accompanying the dark color, which rendered what was +poisonous to the white-colored animals quite innocuous to the black. Dr. +Ogle, however, observes, that there is no proof that the black pigs eat +the root, and he believes the more probable explanation to be that it +is distasteful to them, while the white pigs, being deficient in smell +and taste, eat it, and are killed. Analogous facts occur in several +distinct families. White sheep are killed in the Tarentino by eating +Hypericum Criscum, while black sheep escape: white rhinoceroses are said +to perish from eating Euphorbia Candelabrum; and white horses are said +to suffer from poisonous food, where colored ones escape. Now it is very +improbable that a constitutional immunity from poisoning by so many +distinct plants should in the case of such widely different animals be +always correlated with the same difference of color; but the facts are +readily understood if the senses of smell and taste are dependent on the +presence of a pigment which is deficient in wholly white animals. The +explanation has, however, been carried a step further, by experiments +showing that the absorption of odors by dead matter, such as clothing, +is greatly affected by color, black being the most powerful absorbent, +then blue, red, yellow, and lastly white. We have here a physical cause +for the sense inferiority of totally white animals which may account for +their rarity in nature. For few, if any, wild animals are wholly white. +The head, the face, or at least the muzzle or the nose, are generally +black. The ears and eyes are also often black; and there is reason to +believe that dark pigment is essential to good hearing, as it certainly +is to perfect vision. We can therefore understand why white cats with +blue eyes are so often deaf; a peculiarity we notice more readily than +their deficiency of smell or taste. + +If then the prevalence of white-coloration is generally accompanied with +some deficiency in the acuteness of the most important senses, this +color becomes doubly dangerous, for it not only renders its possessor +more conspicuous to its enemies, but at the same time makes it less +ready in detecting the presence of danger. Hence, perhaps, the reason +why white appears more frequently in islands where competition is less +severe and enemies less numerous and varied. Hence, also, a reason why +albinoism, although freely occurring in captivity, never maintains +itself in a wild state, while melanism does. The peculiarity of some +islands in having all their inhabitants of dusky colors--as the +Galapagos--may also perhaps be explained on the same principles; for +poisonous fruits or seeds may there abound, which weed out all white or +light-colored varieties, owing to their deficiency of smell and taste. +We can hardly believe, however, that this would apply to white-colored +butterflies, and this may be a reason why the effect of an insular +habitat is more marked in these insects than in birds or mammals. But +though inapplicable to the lower animals, this curious relation of sense +acuteness with colors may have had some influence on the development of +the higher human races. If light tints of the skin were generally +accompanied by some deficiency in the senses of smell, hearing, and +vision, the white could never compete with the darker races, so long as +man was in a very low and savage condition, and wholly dependent for +existence on the acuteness of his senses. But as the mental faculties +become more fully developed and more important to his welfare than mere +sense acuteness, the lighter tints of skin, and hair, and eyes, would +cease to be disadvantageous whenever they were accompanied by superior +brain power. Such variations would then be preserved; and thus may have +arisen the Xanthochroic race of mankind, in which we find a high +development of intellect accompanied by a slight deficiency in the +acuteness of the senses as compared with the darker forms. + + + + +AN INVOLVED ACCIDENT. + + +Though American recklessness of life is proverbial among foreigners, we +may be thankful that India-rubber bags of explosive gases are not +carried by ignorant boys through our streets, as in Newcastle, England. +The practice resulted by a singular chain of mishaps in a violent +explosion. The first error was in using a bag for conveying an explosive +gas; the second in using a _leaky_ bag; the third in the experimenter, +who put coal gas into a bag containing oxygen; the fourth in sending a +boy to deliver it. Then comes a chapter of results. The boy became tired +and stopped to rest, dropping the bag on the pavement. Just as he did so +a passer-by lit his pipe and threw the burning match down. By chance it +fell upon the innocent looking bag, and probably just at the spot where +it leaked. After the consequent explosion only two pieces of the bag +could be found, one of which was thrown through the top windows of the +bank. Even the sound wave, or wave of concussion, had a mind to +distinguish itself. It entirely missed the first floor windows of the +bank, and left them uninjured, though the windows in both the ground +floor and the second floor were broken. The wave seems to have crossed +the street, smashing the ground windows there, and then been deflected +back across the street and upward to the top story of the bank. + + + + +AN OLD AQUEDUCT SYSTEM. + + +Ancient life is not usually considered to have been very cleanly, but it +is to the credit of the Romans that as much as 2,200 years ago they made +up their minds to reject the water of the Tiber as unfit to drink. They +hunted for springs in the mountains, and in the course of a few +centuries so many aqueducts were built that Rome had theoretically a +better supply of water than any modern city enjoys. Practically, +however, the Romans suffered from a peculiar kind of water pilfering. +Instead of 400,000,000 gallons daily which the springs furnished, the +city received only 208,000,000 gallons. This immense loss, says a +careful paper by the Austrian engineer, E. H. d'Avidor, arose partly +through neglect of the necessary repairs in the aqueducts, but still +more through the water being positively _stolen_. For one of the +principal favors by which the State and the emperors were in the habit +of rewarding minor services was by granting concessions for the _lost_ +water; that is, for the water which escaped through the overflow of the +reservoirs, cisterns, and public fountains, or through the defects in +the aqueducts and mains. The consequence, of course, was that every +landed proprietor who had obtained a concession for the waste water +escaping from an aqueduct passing through his grounds was anxious to +increase this waste as much as possible--and from this wish to +intentional injury was but a step. The overseers and slaves in charge +were constantly bribed to abstain from repairing damages which had +arisen, or to cause new ones to arise, and these abuses reached such a +pitch that one aqueduct (Tepula) brought _no_ water whatever to Rome +during several years, the whole having been wasted, or rather abstracted +on its way. The irregularities of the water supply were still further +increased by the nature of the mains and distributing pipes, which, as I +have mentioned, were mere lead plates soldered into a pear-shaped +section, incapable of resisting even the most moderate pressure and +liable to injury by a common knife, so that any evil-disposed person +could tap the main almost wherever he pleased. At a later period, +indeed, the Romans appear to have used short clay pipes; lengths of such +mains have been discovered, consisting of two-feet spigot and socket +pipes carefully laid in and covered with a bed of concrete. These have +outlasted all the lead pipes, and are still frequently found in good +condition. + +In the reign of Augustus, when Rome had about 350,000 inhabitants within +its walls, there was a supply of something like 680 gallons per head; +that is, about forty times as much as the valuation for Vienna. But +there were in ancient Rome no less than 1,352 public fountains, 591 jet +fountains, 19 large fortified camps or barracks, 95 thermæ or immense +public baths, and 39 arenas or theatres, all of which were supplied with +a superfluity of constantly flowing water. The reservoirs contained only +about 6,000,000 gallons, and the distribution must have been very +irregular, and it has been calculated that some houses received ten +times as much water as others. Just as the Western miner reckons the +quantity of water by the _inch_, the Roman estimated it by the +_quinarius_, or amount that could flow through a pipe of one and a +quarter _finger_ diameter, under a head of twelve inches. This would +yield about ninety-two gallons in twelve hours, and the price was so low +that the householder paid only about half a cent _per year_ for each +gallon supplied daily. Ninety-two gallons a day would therefore cost +less than half a dollar a year. (In New York it would cost nearly $18.) +But though cheap, the water was not a vested right of all citizens. The +poor had it for nothing in the ample baths, wash houses, and fountains, +but householders could only obtain the right of water supply by a +petition to the consul, and in later times to the emperor himself; even +then, however, with difficulty. It was a matter of favor and a reward +of merit, that applied only to the person to whom it was granted, not +transferable by gift or sale, and which lapsed with the death of the +owner or the sale of the house for which it had been granted. + + + + +GALVANISM CANNOT RESTORE EXHAUSTED VITALITY. + + +Dr. B. W. Richardson says that artificial respiration is a much more +effective means of restoring the drowned or asphyxiated than galvanism. +By the use of an intermittent current of galvanism it is possible to +make the respiratory muscles of an animal recently dead act in precise +imitation of life, and the heart can be excited into brisk contraction +by the same means. But the result was that "the muscles excited by the +current dropped quickly into irrevocable death through becoming +exhausted under the stimulus, and that in fact the galvanic battery, +according to our present knowledge of its use in these cases, is an all +but certain instrument of death. By subjecting animals to death from the +vapor of chloroform in the same atmosphere, and treating one set by +artificial respiration with the double-acting pump, and the other set by +artificial respiration excited by galvanism, I found that the first +would recover in the proportion of five out of six, the second in +proportion of one out of six. Further, I found that if during the +performance of mechanical artificial respiration the heart were excited +by galvanism, death is all but invariable." This results from the fact +that "the passage of a galvanic current through the muscles of a body +recently dead confers on those muscles no new energy; that the current +in its passage only excites temporary contraction; that the force of +contraction resident in the muscles themselves is but educed by the +excitation, and to strike the life out of the muscles by the galvanic +shock without feeding the force, expended by contraction, from the +centre of the body, is a fatal principle of practice." + + + + +CURIOUS OPTICAL EXPERIMENTS. + + +Prof. Nipher of the Washington university at St. Louis describes some +optical illusions, easily tried and apparently very singular, as +follows: 1. Fold a sheet of writing paper into a tube whose diameter +is about three cm. Keeping both eyes open, look through the tube with +one eye, and look at the hand with the other, the hand being placed +close by the tube. An extraordinary phenomenon will be observed. A hole +the size of the tube will appear cut through the hand, through which +objects are distinctly visible. That part of the tube between the eye +and the hand will appear transparent, as though the hand was seen +through it. This experiment is not new, but I have never seen it +described. The explanation of it is quite evident. + +2. Drop a blot of ink upon the palm of the hand, at the point where the +hole appears to be, and again observe as before. Unless the attention be +strongly concentrated upon objects seen through the tubes the ink-spot +will be visible within the tube (apparently), but that part of the hand +upon which it rests will be invisible, unless special attention be +directed to the hand. Ordinarily the spot will appear opaque. By +directing the tube upon brilliantly illuminated objects, it will, +however, appear transparent, and may be made to disappear by proper +effort. By concentrating the attention upon the hand, it may also be +seen within the tube (especially if strongly illuminated), that part +immediately surrounding the ink spot appearing first. + +3. Substitute for the hand a sheet of unruled paper, and for the ink +spot a small hole cut through the paper. The small hole will appear +within the tube, distinguishing itself by its higher illumination, the +paper immediately surrounding it being invisible. Many other curious +experiments will suggest themselves. For example: if an ink spot +somewhat larger than the tube be observed, the lower end of the tube +will appear to be blackened on the inside. + + + + +ICE MACHINES. + + +Ice machines are constructions designed to employ the heat generated +from coal in extracting the heat stored up in water at the ordinary +temperature. One ton of coal will make 15 tons of ice, and yet only +about 1 per cent. of the power used is utilized, these machines being +especially wasteful of heat. The work is done through the medium of some +volatile fluid, like ether or ammonia, or by the use of previously +cooled air. Raoul Pictet, who advocates the employment of another +fluid--sulphurous acid solution--says that every machine must comply +with five conditions: 1. Too great pressure must not occur in any part +of the apparatus. 2. The volatile liquid employed ought to be so +volatile that there will be no danger of air entering. 3. It is +necessary to have a system of compression which does not require the +constant introduction of grease or of foreign materials into the +machine. 4. The liquid must be stable, it must not decompose by the +frequent changes of condition, and it must not exert chemical action on +the metals of which the apparatus is constructed. 5. Lastly, it is +necessary, as far as possible, to remove all danger of explosion and of +fire, and for this reason the liquid must not be combustible. The only +substance, in his opinion, that answers these requirements is sulphurous +acid. This subject is a very important one. If the utilization of heat +could be carried to 3 per cent., as in most machines, it might be +possible to make ice cheaper in New York than to gather, store, and +transport it. + + + + +AMERICAN ANTIQUITIES. + + +Some months ago the telegraph announced that a Congress of Americanistes +had met in Nancy in France, and few people in this country could imagine +who the congressmen were or whether they were of this country. It was, +in fact, the meeting of a society, composed chiefly of Europeans, which +means to prosecute studies in the history, language, and character of +American aborigines. This is a laudable work. America probably offers +the most important field for ethnological study in the world. The great +extent of her two continents gave the freest scope for the complete +development of whatever capacity for civilization her people had; and +yet savagism continued here for many centuries after it had ceased in +Europe. Thus the student in going back three hundred years can penetrate +the past as far in this country as he can reach in Europe by pursuing +his inquiries back for two to three thousand years. Under ordinary +circumstances this fact would make American history much easier to study +than those of Europe where the remnants left by the savage tribes are +dimmed by an extraordinary progress or covered by the débris of +centuries of movement. But the truth is it is about as easy to learn the +habits of the ancient Britons as those of the American tribes, even the +most civilized, five centuries ago. This is partly due to the wanton +destruction of valuable records by the early conquerors and partly to +the prepossession that most men, even able ones, seem to be shackled +with; namely, that the origin of America's former inhabitants is to be +sought in some people of Asia. If they would leave that question for the +twentieth century to decide, and begin a painstaking inquiry into what +was going on in this country before its discovery, ask not _who_, but +what sort of men inhabited it, their habits and their relations, the +gentlemen who compose this society of Americanistes would probably reach +valuable results. There is plenty to occupy them. If they do not want to +grapple at once such a knotty subject as the relation of the Mound +Builders to the existing tribes, let them explore Spain for relics of +the Aztecs. It is highly probable that records of the most precious +character are still to be found there in public archives and in private +hands, the descendants perhaps of common soldiers of Cortes's army, who +were quite likely to send home during and after the Conquest things that +were odd and quaint to them and which would be invaluable to us now. As +it is, the time of the Nancy Congress of Americanistes has been too much +occupied with efforts to make the ancient inhabitants of this country a +tag to one of the numerous Asian migrations. All such attempts have been +failures, for the simple reason that we do not have facts enough to +prove _any_ theory. Still they have done some good work, and though the +subject is not of the most importance, we can but think that M. +Comettant's paper on "Music in America" before its discovery by Columbus +must have been as correct in purpose as it appears daring in subject. + + * * * * * + +Some seeds will germinate when placed between pieces of ice and kept at +a freezing temperature; and it is thought that, this method will afford +an easy means of selecting varieties of seed which will bear a cold +climate. + + * * * * * + +The explosion in the coal mines at Jabin, Belgium, last February, was +due to the ignition of fine coal powder suspended in the air. + + * * * * * + +A Vienna lady, who had been maid of honor to the Empress Maria Theresa, +lately died in that city at the age of one hundred and nineteen years. +That is certainly a well established case of longevity extending beyond +a century. + + * * * * * + +The rare metal vanadium is worth 13,000 francs ($2,600) per pound; about +eight times as much as gold. And yet vanadium is, as Dr. Hayes has +shown, a very widely diffused metal. It forms, however, only a mere +trace in most rocks. + + * * * * * + +W. Siemens has lately determined velocity of propagation of electricity +in suspended iron telegraph wires, and finds it to be between 30,000 and +35,000 miles per second. Kirchhoff had determined it at 21,000 miles and +Wheatstone at 61,900 miles. + + * * * * * + +Prof. Forel of Switzerland has proved that the water of lakes oscillates +almost constantly from one bank to another, and this not only from end +to end, but also from side to side. Thus the Swiss lakes have two +_Seiches_, as they are called, in opposite directions. + + * * * * * + +The sewage schemes have had a good many indignant critics and fervent +defenders. Of the former is Mr. Louis Thompson, who says that the sewage +discharged into seacoast harbors floats on the surface, being lighter +than salt water. Its solid portions are cast up on the shore and in +shoal places, there to become the food of animals, among which are shell +fish, that serve for man's food. + + * * * * * + +Boys' kites can be kept from plunging by making both the wood cross +pieces in the form of a bow, instead of flat. The string is placed a +little above the centre of the upright bow, and a very light tail +attached. These kites are very steady, and if a string attached to one +side of the centre is pulled after the kite has risen, it can be made to +fly as much as thirty degrees from the wind. For this reason it is +proposed to use kites for bringing a vessel to windward. + + + + +CURRENT LITERATURE. + + +Mrs. Annie Edwards's last book[K] does not open well in point of style. +The first paragraph of the first chapter is: "She was a woman of nearly +thirty when I first saw her; a woman spiritless and worn beyond her +years," etc. This beginning not only a chapter but a book with a pronoun +implying an antecedent is very bad, in the low and vulgar way of +badness. It brings to mind the superhuman daily efforts of the "American +humorist" of journalism to be funny; and it should be left to him and to +his kind. And in the next paragraph Mrs. Edwards describes her heroine +as "walking wearily along the weary street of Chesterford St. Mary." Bad +style again, and this time in the way of affectation. A man's way may be +weary if he is tired or weak; but not even then should it be so called, +when he has just been spoken of as weary himself, or as walking wearily; +and weary as applied descriptively to a village street is almost +nonsense. These defects are not important, but they arrest attention as +being at the very opening of the story. And it must be confessed that +for a chapter or two "A Point of Honor" is rather slight in texture and +commonplace. It is, however, interesting enough to lead us on, and the +reader who holds his way into the third or fourth chapter is repaid. The +authoress then warms up to her work, and begins to show her quality, +which is that of a true literary artist. We do not say a great artist, +be it observed, but a true artist. She paints only _genre_ pictures; but +unlike most works of that class (on canvas at least), they are not mere +representations of pretty faces and pretty clothes. She works with a +real knowledge of the human heart, and her work is full of feeling. She +does nothing in the grand style; even her most loving women do not have +grand passions; but all her work is truthful and warm with real life, +and her earnest people are really in earnest. The story of "A Point of +Honor" is interesting, although its incidents are not all out of the +common way. Gifford Mohun, the handsome young heir of Yatton, an estate +in Devonshire, loves, when he is only twenty, one Jane Grand, a +beautiful and sweet-natured girl who is only a year younger than +himself. Nothing is known of her history. She herself does not know her +own parentage. All this has been concealed from her at her father's +request, and with some reason; for it comes out that she is the daughter +of a felon, who died in the hulks, by a minor French actress, a +modification of whose name, Grandet, she bears. When she knows this, she +refuses to taint Mohun's name and life with such dishonor, and he +accepts her decision; doing so with two implications on the part of the +authoress: first, that he was selfish in doing so at all; next, that +doing it he did it coldly and with a false affectation of feeling. He +leaves Yatton and its neighborhood, and plunges into dissipation. Jane +remains at Chesterford, leading her solitary life and loving him. +Meantime the vicar, Mr. Follett, a man of strong nature, much +tenderness, and great tact, whose character is admirably drawn, loves +Jane, and quietly bides his time. After ten years, however, Mohun +returns, walks into Jane's parlor, and asks her to be friends with him. +She, loving him no less than ever, assents gladly, and thereafter he is +almost domesticated in her cottage. He has become somewhat gross in +manner and in speech, as well as in person; but Jane loves him, and +watches for his coming, day by day, as when she was a girl. This goes on +for some months, with a slight admixture of the curate, when all at once +a new personage appears upon the scene. Mohun receives a letter, which +he shows to Jane, and asks her advice about. It is from a Matty +Fergusson, whom he remembers as the untidy little daughter of some +disreputable people he knew something of at a German watering place. She +tells a sad tale of destitution, and asks him to recommend her to some +of his friends as a governess or companion. He is disgusted and +angered at the intrusion, and proposes to send her a five-pound note, or +perhaps ten pounds, and so end the matter. But Jane, whom he asks to +write the letter for him, is touched with pity for the poor girl's +forlornness and suffering, and writes an invitation to her to come to +Chesterford and visit her for a week. She brings a Greek horse within +the walls of her little Troy. She and Gifford expect to see a poor, +meek, limp, shabbily dressed slip of a girl; but Miss Matty Fergusson +enters the cottage a tall and magnificently beautiful young woman; her +grandeur both of toilet and person quite dwarfing the poor little +cottage and its poor little mistress. The end is now visible. Matty +Fergusson is the adventuress daughter of an adventuress mother. Nothing +was true in her letter except the story of her poverty; and she has +played this game with the direct purpose of catching the master of +Yatton. She succeeds; and when Jane speaks to him about its being time +for his overwhelming young friend to depart, he becomes rude and makes a +brutal speech, which undeceives Jane, and kills her love for him. Mohun, +however, does not give himself up to the Fergusson without an attempt at +freedom, and an endeavor to resume his relations with Jane, whom he now +appreciates at her full worth. He confesses and deplores his fault and +begs forgiveness, and offers to break with Miss Fergusson at any cost, +if Jane will give him back her love. But she, although she forgives, +will not receive him again on the old footing, and he drives off with +his handsome adventuress wife, and Jane loves and is married to Mr. +Follett. The story is told with great and yet with very simple skill, +and the characters of the few personages are revealed rather than +portrayed. And by the way, we remark upon Mrs. Edwards's ability to +interest her readers and work out a story with few materials. She rarely +depends for her effects upon more than four or five personages. She is +equally reserved in her manner. She does not paint black and white, but +with human tints only in light and shadow. In this book Mohun's +selfishness is shown with a very delicate hand, and although we are left +in no doubt as to his real character, he is dealt with in such an +impartial and artistic spirit, that some similarly selfish men will +apologize for him and some others will, it may be hoped, read +themselves in him and struggle against the worse part of their natures. +Jane is, perhaps, more angel than woman, but then a good woman who loves +is so often truly angelic with an admixture of human passion that makes +her more loveable as well as more loving than any angel ever was, that +we cannot find fault with poor Jane's perfection. In reading this book +we cannot but remark the common nature of its subject in women's novels +nowadays. The themes on which they write endless variations are the +selfishness of men, and the unselfishness of women in love. Of the men +in the women-written novels of the day, so many are plausible, +agreeable, clever, accomplished, heartless creatures; only a few escape +the general condemnation, and they are those queer creatures "women's +men"--impossible, and bores, like Daniel Deronda. The heroines, major +and minor, love devotedly. But George Eliot does not fall into the +latter blunder. For some reason she is able to see the feminine as well +as the masculine side of social and sexual selfishness. This treatment +of men on the part of the sex is remarkable, for women themselves will +admit and do admit, in unguarded moments, that there is somewhat less of +disinterestedness in this matter on woman's side than on man's. But the +point, we suppose, is this, that woman, when she does love with all her +heart, loves with a blind devotion, an exclusiveness of admiration and +of passion, and a persistency, which she demands from man, which, not +having, she doubts whether she is loved at all, and which, it must be +confessed, rare in woman, is much more rare in man, with whom indeed it +is exceptional. The truth is that man's love is as different from +woman's as his body is; but it is, therefore, none the less worth having +if she would only think so. Man is made to have less exclusiveness of +feeling in this respect than woman has. He would not be man else, nor +she woman if she were otherwise. The mistake is in her expectation of +receiving exactly the same as she gives. She has found out that she does +not get it, or does so very rarely, and the men in women's novels of the +Gifford Mohun type are one of the ways in which she proclaims and +avenges her wrongs. + +--"The Barton Experiment," by "the author of 'Helen's Babies,'"[L] +cannot be called a novel--hardly a tale--and yet it is a story--the +story of a great "temperance movement" at Barton, which is supposed to +be a village somewhere at the west--in Kentucky, we should say, from +certain local references. We do not know who the author of Helen's +Babies is--he, and Helen, and her babies being alike strangers to us; +but he is a clever writer, and a humorist, with no little dramatic +power. His personages are studies from nature, and have individuality +and life; albeit they reveal a somewhat narrow horizon of observation. +He uses largely, but always humorously, the western style of +exaggeration; as, for example, when he makes one of his reformers tell a +steamboat captain that if he will stop drinking whiskey, he will make a +reputation, and "be as famous as the Red River raft or the Mammoth +Cave--_the only thing of the sort west of the Alleghanies_." He +describes his people in a way that shows that he has them in the eye of +his imagination; as in this portrait of a Mrs. Tappelmine: "With face, +hair, eyes, and garments of the same color, the color itself being +neutral; small, thin, faded, inconspicuous, poorly clad, bent with +labors which had yielded no return, as dead to the world as saints +strive to be, _yet remaining in the world for the sake of those whom she +had often wished out of it_," etc. The book is in every way clever, and +its purpose is admirable--the lesson which it is written to teach being +that personal effort and personal sacrifice on the part of reformers is +necessary to reclaim hard drinkers. But the radical fault of all such +moral story writing is that the writer makes his puppets do as he likes. +The drinking steamboat captain yields to the persuasions of his friend, +and even submits to necessary personal restraint. But how if he had not +yielded? Old Tappelmine gives up his whiskey for the sake of money and +employment, which inducements are strongly backed by his neutral-colored +wife; but how if he had been brutally selfish and immovable? In both +these cases, and in all the others, failure was at least quite as likely +as success. People in real life cannot be managed as they can upon +paper. Still the book contains a truth, and is likely to do good. + +--The same publishers have also brought out an illustrated book by +Bayard Taylor,[M] which is suitable to the coming holiday season. It is +a collection of short tales of adventure in different parts of the +world, in which boys take a prominent part. It is one of the fruits of +the author's extended travels, and is manly, simple, and healthy--a very +good sort of book for those for whom it is intended, which, in these +days of mawkish or feverish "juvenile" literature, is saying much for +it. + +--Why Miss Thacher should call a little book, which contains a little +collection of little sketches, "Seashore and Prairie," we do not see. It +is rather a big and an affected name for such a slight thing. But it is +bright and pleasant, and well suited to the needs of those who cannot +fix their attention long upon any subject. We regret to see in it marks +of that extravagance and affectation in the use of language which are +such common blemishes of style in our ephemeral literature. For example: +a very sensible and much needed plea for the preservation of birds, is +called "The Massacre of the Innocents;" and we are told that "a St. +Bartholomew of birds has been _inaugurated_." Miss Thacher should leave +this style of writing to the newspaper reporters. + +--The large circle of readers who are interested in Palestine, and the +lands and waters round about it, will find Mr. Warner's last book of +travel[N] very pleasant reading--full of information and suggestion. He +observes closely, describes nature with a true feeling for her beauties, +and men with spirit and a fine apprehension of their peculiarities. He +is not very reverent, and breaks some idols which have been worshipped. +He is not an admirer of the Hebrews, or of anything that is theirs, +except their literature. His style is lively and agreeable, but we +cannot call it either elegant or correct. He tells some "traveller's +stories;" for instance, one about catching an eagle's feather on +horseback (pp. 103, 104). True he "has the feather to show;" but on the +whole he makes not too many overdrafts upon the credulity of his +readers, and does not color much too highly. + +--In his latest tale[O] Mr. Yates introduces American characters, +following what seems to be the prevailing fashion among English authors, +especially those who are not of the first rank. Mr. Yates manages his +foreign scenes and characters with good judgment, but his Americans we +should not recognize as such without his introduction. The scene of the +story is in England. Sir Frederick Randall, a dissolute young nobleman, +is condemned to imprisonment, under an assumed name, for forgery. Making +his escape, he woos a beautiful and innocent American girl, the daughter +of a petroleum millionaire from Oil City. As he is already married, it +is necessary to dispose of one wife before he takes another. This he +does by throwing madam over a cliff by the seashore. Caught by +projecting bushes, she is, without his knowledge, rescued alive by some +Americans, who are yachting off the coast. One of these Americans has +long loved Minnie Adams, the pretty American girl, but she and her +parents are fascinated by Sir Frederick's title and the expected +introduction to high-class English society. Minnie marries the would-be +murderer, and after a year of trouble and brutal treatment, severe +sickness ensues, during which she is nursed by her husband's first and +only legal wife. Finally Sir Frederick is murdered by an old comrade of +his debaucheries, and the two wives are equitably distributed between +the two American gentlemen. + +--Messrs. Hurd & Houghton are doing good service in reissuing the +Riverside edition of the Waverley Novels.[P] The well-chosen proportion +of page and type and the excellent work of the Riverside press have +combined to make these volumes, what American books are too apt not to +be--a thing of permanent beauty. The publishers intend to bring out the +edition quite rapidly. Five volumes are ready, and the others will +follow at the rate of one each month. The present is the great era of +mediocre men. A horde of novel writers gain their living successfully +enough, and we take them up and talk about what they are doing, and how +their works compare with each other, as if their doings had real +importance. But what are they to the enduring genius of Abbotsford? He +has not only proved an inexhaustible source of delight to two +generations of readers, but has founded an industry--the publication of +his works--which is likely to be for scores of years to come a permanent +source of livelihood to hundreds. + + * * * * * + +It is evident that we have not a new light of poetry in Mr. Voldo.[Q] He +tells us that this is a first attempt, and it may well be the last, for +he seems to have been led--and misled--into the practice of poetic +expression by a certain gift, in his case fatal, of rhythm. The flow of +his lines is far superior to the meaning or the expression. In fact the +latter is so involved and farfetched, that the former is often entirely +obscured. To find out what it is he tries to tell us would really be a +painful process, and the few attempts we have made were too immediately +fatiguing to produce any results. Two of his poems are worth reading, +one because its versification is well managed, and the other because its +story is simple and naturally told. It is a relief after so many pages +of overstraining at words, and it shows that Mr. Voldo can be really +pleasant, if he will only be simple. Well, two out of fifty is above the +average! + + * * * * * + +It is only two years since a prominent American geologist wrote to a +foreign scientific paper that he had been on the point of sending to +Germany for two or three men to assist him in an important State +survey.[R] His reason for this determination was that our country did +not possess men competent to find and follow up intelligently the +different strata; except those who were already engaged on other +surveys. Luckily this discreditable act was prevented by the sudden +abandonment of one of these other surveys, which released assistants +enough to satisfy this extremely difficult gentleman. The truth is that, +by some means, geological science has been pushed in this country with +great vigor and with grand results. Within the last ten years there has +been a revival of energy in that particular science which recalls the +golden days of Hugh Miller, Murchison, Agassiz, and Lyell. The time when +the very exacting gentleman, above alluded to, could not find helpers on +this side of the Atlantic, was the middle point around which were +grouped the surveys of Newberry and Andrews in Ohio, Clarence King in +Nevada, Whitney in California, Wheeler and Powell south of the Pacific +Railroad, and Hayden north of that line. Michigan was just finishing a +partial, but extremely productive, survey of her mineral regions. +Missouri had plunged hopefully into another. Pennsylvania was planning +the comprehensive work in which Leslie and his aids are now engaged. +Indiana, New Jersey, and other States had taken the great steps so much +desired by the initiated all over the world, and had made the geologist +a standing member of their government. All this had been done without +the _necessary_ importation of a foreigner. One or two foreigners had +obtained employment on these surveys, but only because they came here +and sought the work. Nearly every one of the young men who performed the +work of assistants was an American. It is safe to say that in this +revival of geological work from twenty to fifty young Americans have +learned to be scientific men. As to the results of their activity, it is +sufficient to read a report like that of Mr. Powell, to find how rapidly +they are adding to our knowledge of the earth's history, and even +altering the canons of scientific belief. Mr. Powell tells us that in +his first expedition, eight years ago, and for three years after that, +he tried hard to find in the west the equivalents of the State epochs +and periods so well known as the basis of geological nomenclature, and +nearly all taken from the exposures in New York and other Eastern and +Southeastern States. It was not until this attempt was abandoned that he +began to make progress. He had to study the western regions by +themselves, and leave correspondences to the future. That was the +experience of all the workers in the west, and it brings plainly to view +the great fact, of which not all, even of our best known geologists, are +yet fully persuaded, that the geological record, though doubtless a +unit, is not uniform over the whole country. These shackles thrown off, +the geology of the west leaped up with a vigor which is astonishing. It +seemed to be pretty evident, from Prof. Huxley's lectures here, that he +had not before imagined what results had been obtained in America. This +is not surprising. Few foreigners are able to keep along with the work +performed in this country, where there is such a direful supposed lack +of workers! It is a fact that at present there is no part of the world +where the discoveries made in this science are of so general importance +as here. The Rocky mountains owe their name "to great and widely spread +aridity," the mountains being "scantily clothed with vegetation and the +indurated lithologic formations rarely masked with soils." But there are +many systems of uplifts in this region, and Mr. Powell distinguishes +three in the field covered by his report. They are the Park mountains +("the lofty mountains that stand as walls about the great parks of +Southern Wyoming, Colorado, and Northern New Mexico"); the Basin Range +system (named by Gilbert from the fact that many of them surround basins +that have no drainage to the sea); and the Plateau Province. It is worth +remarking that in the west the geologist precedes or accompanies the +topographer, and accordingly has an opportunity to name the regions +according to real peculiarities rather than chance suggestions. The +future map will be significant of the past history as well as of the +ocular features of the landscape. Mr. Powell gives careful sections of +the strata in the Plateau Province, where they are about 46,000 feet +thick. Few persons imagine the vast amount of work, exploration, and +comparison which such drawings embody. The beds form a series of groups +unlike those of the New York geologists, but the great geologic ages are +as well defined as elsewhere. The synchronism remains to be fully +established by palæontological proofs. He thinks he has been able to fix +upon the true point of division between the Mesozoic and Cenozoic ages, +and to prove that coal was deposited through about 7,000 feet of +Cretaceous and about 4,500 feet of Cenozoic beds. Mr. Powell's literary +style is excellent--not involved, but clear and energetic. He was wise +to abandon the idea of publishing an itinerary, which would, as he says, +"encumber geological literature with a mass of undigested facts of +little value." Geology has enough of such meaningless reports. As it is, +we follow him with confidence, and he gives us a story that is plain and +comprehensible. + + * * * * * + +The publications of the Massachusetts Board of Health[S] have been of a +superior character, and have given that organization decided prominence +among similar American boards. The question of how to prevent river +pollution in their State they think can best be solved by placing +advisory power in the hands of some Government officer, upon whose +conclusions legislative action for each case should be based. This +officer would be paid by the parties in interest. Good results are to be +obtained only by comparing and altering when necessary what is done. In +this country too little is known about this subject, and the appointment +of an official "with power" is the first step toward knowledge. The +suggestions made as to the way to deal with sewage are also mostly good, +but it is doubtful whether general purification can wisely be enforced +in the present state of sanitary science. If there are any very bad +cases of pollution, they may properly be provided for in the way +suggested, and experience gained from them. The lack of experience here +is partially corrected by studying the work accomplished abroad; but a +rapid review of such work can never replace the slower results of +individual experience. The report of Mr. Kirkwood, the engineer, adds to +the abundant testimony we already have of the efficacy and power of +Nature's quietest work. Analyses show that the water of Charles river +above the Newton lower falls is, when filtered, fit, though barely fit, +to drink, and yet it has received the refuse of forty-two mills and +factories, with a population of 14,000 persons known to be sewering +into the river, and a population in the basin of three times that +number. The river has a dry-weather flow of only twenty million gallons +in twenty-four hours. On the general subject of sewage utilization the +secretary concludes that in this country the sewage has no value, but +can in some places, at least, be utilized without loss. In the death +rate of Massachusetts towns the village of Canton (4,192 population) +carries the palm, with only 11.9 deaths per thousand. Holyoke, 56.5 per +thousand, has the highest. + +--The report that a city is to be built in England on strict sanitary +principles, in which man may, if he will, live to a hundred and fifty +years of age, will give additional interest to this address[T] in which +Dr. Richardson develops the project. The address was delivered a year +ago, when the Doctor was president of the Health Department of the +Social Science Association. It deserves attention because it indicates, +pretty nearly, the goal toward which all the conscious and unconscious +improvement in our living for centuries has tended. Whether man can +obtain such control over the duration of his life depends very largely +upon whether he finds himself able to submit to the discipline and +self-abnegation without which the mechanical improvements made will have +only partial success. Perfect living is not merely a thing of +appliances. These are necessary, but the subjection of the will to the +requirements of orderly conduct is equally necessary. However, Dr. +Richardson says that "Utopia is but another word for time," and it is +certain that his ideal of public and private life will be at least +approached by the slow progress of small improvements. Some people have +objected that they don't want to live a century and a half, and that a +city where men two hundred years of age might occasionally be seen +walking about is just the place they would most carefully avoid. But we +can none of us escape our fate. If society is progressing toward that +end, let us accept it, and even allow the men of science to hurry up +matters a century or two. It is, perhaps, significant that this change +in man's estate comes just at the time when a reduction in the rate of +interest is taking place, and it seems likely that a man will have to +live to a hundred years in order to accumulate enough to buy him a +house. When he has it, he will need another half century to enjoy it. At +all events read this ideal, extraordinary, and learned exposition of the +health of the future. + +--The idea of collecting in one volume a concise statement of modern +theories of the mode in which we receive impressions is excellent, and +it has been well carried out by Prof. Bernstein.[U] Touch, sight, +hearing, smell, and taste are treated from an anatomical and +experimental point of view, and the researches of Helmholtz, Weber, and +the numerous band of investigators who have in late years devised so +many ingenious modes of testing the operation of these senses are well +represented. The book contains probably as much exact and accurate +information, and as thorough a treatment of the subject, as can be +contained in a volume of this size. It is an advanced treatise that +places the reader in possession of the latest theories on these occult +subjects. Of necessity it is not new; but this treatment and the facts +here given will be found novel by most readers. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote K: "_A Point of Honor._" By MRS. ANNIE EDWARDS. 16mo, pp. 325. +New York: Sheldon & Co.] + +[Footnote L: "_The Barton Experiment._" By the author of "Helen's +Babies." New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.] + +[Footnote M: "_Boys of Other Countries._ Stories for American Boys." By +BAYARD TAYLOR. 12mo, pp. 164. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.] + +[Footnote N: "_In the Levant._" By C. D. WARNER. 12mo, pp. 374. Boston: +J. R. Osgood & Co.] + +[Footnote O: "_Going to the Bad._ A Novel." By EDMUND YATES. Boston: +William F. Gill & Co. 75 cts.] + +[Footnote P: "_Waverley Novels._" Riverside Edition. "Waverley," "Guy +Mannering," "Rob Roy," "The Antiquary." New York: Hurd & Houghton. $3.50 +per volume.] + +[Footnote Q: "_A Song of America, and Minor Lyrics._" By V. VOLDO. New +York: Hanscom & Co.] + +[Footnote R: "_Report on the Geology of the Eastern Portion of the Unita +Mountains and Adjacent Country._" With Atlas. By J. W. POWELL. +Washington: Department of the Interior.] + +[Footnote S: "_Seventh Annual Report of the State Board of Health of +Massachusetts._" Boston: Wright & Potter.] + +[Footnote T: "_Hygeia_: A City of Health." By BENJAMIN WARD RICHARDSON. +MacMillan & Co.] + +[Footnote U: "_The Five Senses of Man._" By JULIUS BERNSTEIN. +Illustrated. New York: D. Appleton & Co. (International Scientific +Series.)] + + + + +BOOKS RECEIVED. + + +"_Outlines of Lectures on the History of Philosophy._" By J. J. +ELMENDORF, L.L. D. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York. + +"_Modern Materialism; its Attitude Toward Theology._" By J. MARTINEAU, +L.L. D. The same. + +"_A Child's Book of Religion._" By O. B. FROTHINGHAM. The same. + +"_An Alphabet in Finance._" By G. MCADAM. The same. + +"_Roddy's Ideal._" By HELEN K. JOHNSON. The same. + +"_History of French Literature._" By HENRI VAN LAREN. The same. + +"_Lectures on the History of Preaching._" By J. A. BROADUS, D. D., LL. +D. Sheldon & Co., New York. + +"_Why Four Gospels?_" By Rev. D. D. GREGORY. The same. + +"_Rules for Conducting Business in Deliberative Assemblies._" By P. H. +MELL, D.D., LL.D. The same. + +"_A Young Man's Difficulties with His Bible._" By D. W. FAUNCE, D.D. The +same. + +"_A Vocabulary of English Rhymes._" By Rev. S. W. BARNUM. D. Appleton & +Co., New York. + +"_The Carlyle Anthology._" By E. BARRETT. H. Holt & Co., New York. + +"_Our Mutual Friend._" By CHARLES DICKENS. Condensed by R. Johnson. The +same. + +"_Life and Times of William Samuel Johnston, LL.D._" By E. E. BEARDSLEY, +D.D., LL.D. Hurd & Houghton, New York. + +"_Washington._ A Drama in Five Acts." By MARTIN F. TUPPER. J. Miller, +New York. + +"_Castle Windows._" By L. C. STRONG. H. B. Nims & Co., Troy, N. Y. + +"_That New World_, and Other Poems." By Mrs. S. M. B. PIATT. J. R. +Osgood & Co., Boston. + +"_Light on the Clouds_; or, Hints of Comfort for Hours of Sorrow." By M. +J. SAVAGE. Lockwood, Brooks & Co., Boston. + +"_In the Sky Garden._" By L. W. CHAMPNEY. The same. + +"_The Religion of Evolution._" By M. J. SAVAGE. The same. + +"_Student Life at Harvard._" The same. + +"_Long Ago._ (A year of Child life)." By ELLIS GRAY. The same. + +"_The Young Trail Hunters_; or, The Wild Riders of the Plains." By S. W. +COZZENS. Lee & Sheppard, Boston. + +"_Vine and Olive_; or, Young America in Spain and Portugal." By W. T. +ADAMS (Oliver Optic). The same. + +"_The National Ode._" By BAYARD TAYLOR. W. F. Gill & Co., Boston. + +"_Hold the Fort._" By P. P. BLISS. The same. + +"_The Poetical and Prose Writings of Charles Sprague._" A. Williams & +Co., Boston. + +"_Corinne_; or, Italy. A Love Story." By MME. DE STAEL. T. B. Peterson & +Bro., Philadelphia. + +"_Frank Nelson in the Forecastle_; or, The Sportsman's Club among the +Whalers." By HARRY CASTLEMON. The same. + +"_Fridthjof's Saga._ A Norse Romance." By E. FEGNER, Bishop of Mexico. +S. C. Griggs & Co., Chicago. + +"_Viking Tales of the North._" By ANDERSON. The same. + +"_Michigan Board of Agriculture._ 1875." Lansing, Mich. + + + + +NEBULÆ. + + +--During the progress of the canvass for the Presidential election--in +our September number--we made a promise which seemed about the safest +that could be made, but which proved to be a rash one--so rash that at +this moment we are entirely unable to redeem it--as unable as if we had +undertaken to say which exhibitor at the Philadelphia Exhibition would +not get a medal. We said that we would give our readers accurate +information, in our December number, as to which party was likely to +carry the day. What may happen before these words are printed and laid +before our readers we cannot tell; and the experience of the past few +weeks has taught us caution as to prediction and promise, even upon +apparent certainty; but although the election is more than a month past, +_we_ do not know who is to be President, and no one is wiser on this +subject than we are. The matter is not one to be treated lightly. It is +of the gravest possible importance. No consequence of our civil war is +more serious or more deplorable than that condition of the former slave +States, which has caused this prolonged uncertainty with regard to the +result of the election, and that political state of the whole country +which has made this uncertainty the occasion of such intense and +embittered feeling, and such desperate measures by the managers of both +the great political parties. In fact, the war of secession is not at an +end. Twelve years have passed since the military forces of the seceders +surrendered to those of the Government, but the contest, or one arising +from it, prolongs itself into the present, when those are men who, when +the war broke out, were too young to understand its causes. And at the +same time we are suffering, in our prostrate trade and almost +extinguished commerce, another grievous consequence of the same dire +internecine struggle. Truly ourselves and our institutions are sorely +tried. A like combination of disastrous circumstances would bring about +a revolution in any other country. If we go through this trial safely, +we may not only feel thankful, but take some reasonable pride in the +national character and in the political institutions that will bear such +a long and severe strain without breaking. And yet we all have faith +that we shall endure it and come out in the end more stable and more +prosperous than ever. + + +--The cause of this trouble is a change in the political substance and +the political habits of the country, of which the average citizen seems +to have little knowledge and of which he takes less thought. We do not +refer to the change of the functions of the Electoral College from those +of a real electing body to those of a mere recorder of the votes of the +people of the several States, which has been much remarked upon of late +years. That change took place very early; and thus far it has been +productive of no trouble or even of inconvenience. If that were all, +there would be little need of any modification of our system of electing +the President. But there has been of later years--say within the last +half century--a change from the political condition of the country to +which the Electoral College was adapted. We are in the habit, in +patriotic moments, of lauding the wisdom and the foresight of the +fathers of the republic. And they were wise, and good, and patriotic +men; but as to their foresight, it would seem that we are to-day a +living witness that they were quite incapable of seeing into the +political future. We are now demanding that the Electoral College shall +be abolished, and the President be elected by a direct popular vote; and +yet nothing is surer than that the distinct purpose of the founders of +our Federal Union was to prevent such an election. Their design was to +establish, not a democratic government, working more or less by +mass-meeting--a direct vote of the mass of the citizens--but a +representative republican government, in which the people should commit +their affairs to their representatives, who should have full power to +manage them according to their discretion, entirely irrespective of the +dictation of their constituents, although not without respect for their +opinions and wishes. The doctrine of instruction, by which the +representative is turned into a mere delegate--a sort of political +attorney--is new and is entirely at variance with the design of the +founders of the republic, to which, of course, the Constitution was +adapted. It was supposed, assumed as a matter of course, by them that +there would always be a body of men of high character and intelligence, +who would have sufficient leisure to perform the functions of +legislators, governors, and other officers, for a small compensation, +and that the people at large would freely commit their affairs to these +gentlemen, choosing, of course, those whose general political views were +most in accordance with their own. So it was at the time of the war of +Independence, and at that of the formation of the Constitution. Of such +a political conception the Electoral College was a legitimate product. +The "Fathers" didn't _mean_ that the people should decide between the +merits of the candidates for the Presidency. They thought--and shall we +therefore decry their wisdom?--that a small body of intelligent and well +educated men, men of character and social position, accustomed to the +study of public affairs, was better fitted to choose such an officer as +the President of the United States than the whole mass of the people. +Moreover, the people themselves have changed, and have become in +substance and in condition something that the "Fathers" did not dream +of. States in which the vote of the mass of the citizens should be in +the hands of negroes or of emigrants from the peasant class of Europe +were not among the political conditions for which their foresight +provided. + + +--The great controlling fact in our politics is this one, so little +regarded not only by the general public, but by men in active political +life--the thorough change which has taken place in our society and in +the attitude of the people toward the Government. As a consequence of +this change, political power has passed almost entirely out of the hands +of the class of men to whom the framers of our Constitution intended to +commit the administration of the Government which they called into +being. It has fallen into those of men generally much inferior in +cultivation and in position. And as we have already said, the very +substance of the political constituency has changed. A suffrage +practically universal and a controlling vote in one part of the country +of emancipated negro slaves and in the other of uneducated foreign +emigrants was not the political power to which Franklin, and Jefferson, +and Hamilton and Adams, and their co-workers, supposed they were +required to adapt their frame of government. And now no small part of +our difficulty arises from the failure of a very large portion of our +people, North as well as South, to perceive or at least fully to +appreciate this change and its inevitable consequences. It is agreed by +all students of political history, that the weakness of a written +constitution lies in its inflexibility; and the error of many of our +political managers lies in their failure to appreciate this truth and +their assumption that the country is to be governed now just as it was +in the days of Washington. But the fact is that such a condition of +political affairs as now exists in South Carolina and in Louisiana would +have been not only morally but physically impossible in the earlier +years of the republic. "The people" in those States, and to a certain +extent in all the States, but chiefly at the South, has not the same +meaning that it had three-quarters of a century ago. Over the whole +country the conditions of our political problem have changed; but most +of all there; and the result is a strain upon our political +institutions, and even upon our social institutions, which taxes their +stability to the utmost. The present crisis is only inferior in its +gravity to that which preceded the attempted secession; and now as then +South Carolina takes the lead. But serious as the peril is, we shall +pass through it safely. We did not emerge safely from the greater +danger, to be overwhelmed by the less. Wisdom and firmness in the +highest degree are demanded by the emergency; but wisdom and firmness +will control it, and whatever measures may become necessary we may be +sure that they will be fraught with no peril to our liberties, or to +the stability of our Government. The nervous apprehension exhibited by +some people that any grave political disturbance and consequent +manifestation of power on the part of the central Government is likely +to end in a usurpation, and an enslavement of the American people, may +be surely characterized, if not as weak, at least as unwarranted. Think +of it coolly for a moment, and see how absurd it is. Any man born and +bred in the United States ought to be ashamed to entertain such a notion +for a moment. If we look back through the long and weary years of our +civil war, we shall find that mistakes were made on the side of the +arbitrary exercise of power, from which a few individuals suffered; but +indefensible as some of these were, according to the strict letter of +the law, we can now see their real harmlessness to the public as clearly +as we see the error of those who committed them. At no time have our +liberties been in less peril than when the President of the United +States had under his absolute command an army larger than that ever +actually controlled by any monarch (fables and exaggerations allowed +for), and when the warrant of the Secretary of War would have lodged any +man in a Federal fortress. We see now the folly of the vaticinations +against the endurance of our liberty which were uttered by many foreign +wiseacres and some weak-kneed natives. Whatever may come of our present +trouble, let us not forget the lessons of our recent experience. In +spite of any bugaboo we shall remain a Federal republic and a free +people. + + +--One accompaniment of the singular result of the election has been +sufficiently ridiculous--the daily reports of "the situation" as they +appeared in the columns and at the doors of the Republican and +Democratic newspapers. The phrase "to lie like a bulletin" has been +justified to the fullest extent. On which side lay the deviation from +truth it was impossible to say; but if one respectable journal's +assertions were true, the others surely were false. It was strange and +laughable to read on one bulletin board, "Republican Victory! Election +of Hayes! South Carolina and Florida ours by large majorities!" and then +to find only a few yards off a no less flaming announcement of +"Democratic Triumph! Tilden elected! South Carolina and Florida give +decided Democratic majorities!" And this was not only ridiculous, but +somewhat incomprehensible. For the newspapers which made these flatly +contradictory announcements at the same time and within short distances, +all equally prided themselves on their reputation as purveyors of +news--news that could be relied upon. Moreover, their means of obtaining +news are pretty well known to the public and quite well to each other. +True the "reliable gentleman," and the "distinguished member of +Congress," figured somewhat largely as the sources of those very +discrepant statements; and those persons are notoriously untrustworthy; +even more so than the "intelligent contraband" of the war times. But +after all it was a puzzle--unless, indeed, upon the assumption that +these newspapers published each of them, not what they knew to be the +fact, but what they thought their readers would like to be told; a +theory not to be entertained for a moment. Nevertheless the facts as +they presented themselves did seem to be worthy of some candid +consideration by the journalistic mind; for to mere outsiders they +seemed to point to the prudence and safety, to say the least, of more +caution and reserve of assertion, with the certainty that the +introduction of these new elements into the news department of +journalism would tend to the elevation of the profession, and would +beget a confidence in that department of our leading journals which it +may perhaps be safely said does not exist in a very high degree at +present. Possibly, however, the question may have presented itself in +this form to the journalistic mind: "If we continue to announce victory +for our own party, and it so turns out in the end, we are all right, and +we shall have pleased our readers." If the contrary, we shall merely +have to denounce the frauds of our opponents which have falsified the +truth that we told, and we shall have pleased our readers all the same." +Ingenious gentlemen. + + +--Among the humors of the election is one so significant that it should +not be allowed to pass by unrecorded. One Irish "American" was +describing to another the glories of a procession which had made night +hideous to those not particularly interested in it; and he closed the +glowing account by saying, "Oh, it wuz an illigent purrceshin intoirely! +Div'l a naygur or a Yankee int' ut!" Doubtless this gentleman would +think an election equally illigant in which neither a naygur nor a +Yankee presumed to vote. + + +--The period of the election excitement was marked also by the close of +the great Centennial Exhibition, which must be regarded as a very great +success, and which, we are pleased to record, proved far more successful +pecuniarily than we anticipated that it would. Among the grand +expositions of the world's industry this one stands alone, we believe, +in its possession of a surplus over and above its enormous expenses. +This, however, is but one witness to the admirable manner in which it +was managed. But even if it had failed in this respect, as at first it +seemed probable that it would, the money lost would have been well spent +in producing the impression which it left upon all, or nearly all, of +the intelligent foreigners whom it drew to Philadelphia. We happen to +have heard some of these, who had not only been present at other +exhibitions of the same kind in Europe, but had held the position of +judges there, say that the Philadelphia exhibition was superior to all +the others, not, it is true, in the beauty and value of the foreign +articles exhibited, but in the native productions and in the +arrangement, the system and discipline of the whole affair. The American +machinery and tools elicited the highest admiration from qualified +European judges. They found in them the results of a union of the +highest scientific acquirement with a corresponding excellence of +material and exactness in manufacture. All the tools used in the higher +departments of mechanics elicited this expression of admiration, and +with regard to those exhibited by two or three manufacturers the +approbation was without qualification and in the highest terms. This +result will be largely beneficial to our national reputation; for it was +just in these respects, science, thoroughness, and exactness, that our +foreign critics were prepared to find us wanting. + + +--The richness and variety of American slang is remarked upon by almost +all English travellers, who, however, might find at home, in the +language of high-born people, departures from purity quite as frequent +and as great as those prevalent with us, although perhaps not so gross; +for it must be confessed that most of our slang is coarse and offensive, +at least in form. But the most remarkable American peculiarity in regard +to slang, or indeed in regard to any new fangle in language, is the +quickness with which it is adopted, and comes, if not into general use, +into general knowledge. This readiness of adaptability to slang may, +however, be attributed almost entirely to the reporters and +correspondents, and "makers-up" of our newspapers, who catch eagerly at +anything new in phraseology as well as in fact, to give a temporary +interest to their ephemeral writing. Here, for example, is the word +"bulldose," the occasion of our remarks. A man who went on a journey to +South America or to Europe four months ago would have departed in the +depths of deplorable ignorance as to the very existence of this lovely +word; returning now, he would find it in full possession of the +newspapers--appearing in correspondence, in reports, in sensation +headlines, and even in leading articles. Although to the manner born, he +would be puzzled at the phraseology of the very newspaper which mingled +itself with his earliest recollections and with his breakfast; for there +he would find the new word in all possible forms and under all possible +modifications: _bulldose_, the noun, _to bulldose_, the verb, +_bulldosing_, the present participle, _bulldosed_, the past participle, +and even, to the horror of the author of "Words and their Uses," and in +spite of him, _being bulldosed_, "the continuing participle of the +passive voice." Such a phenomenon in language is peculiar to this +country. But notwithstanding the fears of the purists and the +philologers, it does not threaten the existence of the English language +here, nor is it at all likely to affect it permanently even by the +addition of one phrase or word. For our use of slang of this kind is the +most fleeting of temporary fashions. Such slang passes rapidly into use +and into general recognition, and passes as quickly out again. +Bartlett's "Dictionary of Americanisms" is full of words of this +kind--_locofoco_, for example--which lived their short lives, and then +passed not only out of use, but out of memory. While they are in vogue, +however, they deform our speech, and they tend to increase our habits of +looseness in language; and they bring reproach upon us such as that with +an allusion to which we began this item. For our reputation's sake we +should stop this; it subjects us with some reason to ridicule. But we +shall not stop, because the men who could stop it--the editors--will not +do so. Very few newspapers in the country--only two or three--are really +edited as to the language used in them; and as to slang of this sort, it +is regarded as something pleasant to the ears of the average reader, who +is supposed to think it funny. This is enough. If the readers want it, +the editors will furnish it; and so we may expect to be "bulldosed," or +otherwise dosed with some like nauseous mess of language, until +journalism has some other purpose than to pander to the lower cravings +of the moment. + + +--It is said that in the schools for girls it is now becoming the +fashion to teach the large angular handwriting which is commonly used by +Englishwomen. The announcement is welcome and surprising in one respect; +for it implies that writing is taught in schools, as to which an +acquaintance with the chirography of the rising generation justly +awakens some doubts. But as to the beneficial result of the adoption of +the style in question, that is a matter of some uncertainty. This +angular English hand is very elegant and lovely to look upon in a little +note, particularly if it assures you of the fair writer's high regard, +or asks you to dinner. But in fact it is so uncertain in its forms that +sometimes it is quite difficult to tell which is meant, the high regard +or the dinner. We have heard of one case of deplorable uncertainty. A +lady going out of town hastily on a short visit left a key upon her +husband's table with a slip of paper on which was written in the new +style a few words which after much toil and with the hint from the key, +he deciphered and read as "Key of wine closet. Please put on gin-sling." +He was amazed; for whatever his fondness might have been for gin-sling, +it was not his habit to put it on the table. Wherefore he inferred that +instead of "gin-sling" he should read "green seal," but there was none +of that brand of champagne in the wine closet. Further investigation led +him to adopt the reading, "please put on full swing." This, however, he +abandoned as not exactly a feminine exhortation in that particular +matter. Then for "gin-sling" he read "gunning," and "gun sing," and +"grinning," all of course to be abandoned in their turn. Submitted to an +expert, the elegant lines were pronounced to be unmistakably, "Key of +wine closet. Recase pat on gnu eing," not a highly intelligible letter +of instruction. Finally, in his perplexity, he remembered something that +the lady had once said upon the subject of the danger of leaving the +particular key in question lying about loose or even in an accessible +drawer, and then it flashed upon him that the writing was, or was meant +to be, "Key of wine closet. Please put on your ring." Hence it appears +that the elegant English hand is very easily read when you know what the +fair writer means to say. Observe, too, that the perplexity would have +been obviated by the introduction of a much needed pronoun--_it_. If the +lady had written, "Put it," etc., there would have been a guide out of +the labyrinth. No small part of the obscurity found in writing arises +from compression. It is better to take the trouble to write two words, +and thereby be understood, than to write one, in angular Anglican +elegance, and leave your reader in darkness. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY *** + +***** This file should be named 30415-8.txt or 30415-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/4/1/30415/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Carla Foust, Bill Tozier and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.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: The Galaxy + Vol. 23, No. 1 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 7, 2009 [EBook #30415] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Carla Foust, Bill Tozier and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="transnote"> +<h3>Transcriber's note</h3> +<p>All apparent printer's errors have been retained.</p> + +<p>The index is for all of Volume XXIII. Links have been added to those articles that are located in this issue.</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE GALAXY.</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="fm2"><span class="smcap">A Magazine of Entertaining Reading.</span></p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="fm2">VOL. XXIII.</p> + +<p class="fm3">JANUARY, 1877, TO JUNE, 1877.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="fm3">NEW YORK:</p> + +<p class="fm2">Sheldon & Company,</p> + +<p class="fm3">1877.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="fm4">Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by<br /> +SHELDON & COMPANY,<br /> +in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="fm4"> +Typography of <span class="smcap">Churchwell & Teall</span>. Electrotyped by <span class="smcap">Smith & McDougal</span>.<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="INDEX_TO_VOLUME_XXIII" id="INDEX_TO_VOLUME_XXIII"></a>INDEX TO VOLUME XXIII.</h2> + +<table summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr">PAGE.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_5">Administration of Abraham Lincoln</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Gideon Welles</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a>, 149</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_24">Almanacs, Some Old</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Charles Wyllys Elliott</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Alnaschar. 1876</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Bret Harte</i></td> +<td class="tdr">217</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Alfred de Musset</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Henry James, Jr.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">790</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_79">Applied Science</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Charles Barnard</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79">79</a>, 160</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Art's Limitations</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Margaret J. Preston</i></td> +<td class="tdr">159</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Assja</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Ivan Tourguéneff</i></td> +<td class="tdr">368</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Aut Diabolus aut Nihil</td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr">218</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_109">Ballad of Constance</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>William Winter</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Balzac, Letters of</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Henry James, Jr.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">183</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Battalion, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>J. W. De Forest</i></td> +<td class="tdr">817</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_62">Beer</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>S. G. Young</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Beethoven, To</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Sidney Lanier</i></td> +<td class="tdr">394</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Cigarettes</td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr">471</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Cleopatra's Soliloquy</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary Bayard Clarke</i></td> +<td class="tdr">506</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Climbing Rose, The</td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr">596</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Cossacks, An Evening Party with the</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>David Ker</i></td> +<td class="tdr">406</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Dead Star, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>John James Piatt</i></td> +<td class="tdr">660</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Dead Vashti, A</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Louise Stockton</i></td> +<td class="tdr">428</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Defeated</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary L. Ritter</i></td> +<td class="tdr">354</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Dramatic Canons, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Frederick Whittaker</i></td> +<td class="tdr">396, 508</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_125">Drift-Wood</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Philip Quilibet</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125">125</a>, 265, 411, 553, 695, 842</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<div class="blockquot2"><p><a href="#Page_125">The Twelve-Month Sermon</a>; <a href="#Page_127">Ribbons and Coronets at Market Rates</a>; The +Spinning of Literature; +Growth of American Taste for Art; The Wills of the Triumvirate; +The Duel and the Newspapers; +The Industry of Interviewers; Talk about Novels; Primogeniture and +Public Bequests; +The Times and the Customs; Victor Hugo; Evolutionary Hints for +Novelists; The +Travellers; Swindlers and Dupes; Pegasus in Harness. +</p></div> + +<table summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Eastern Question, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>A. H. Guernsey</i></td> +<td class="tdr">359</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">English Peerage, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>E. C. Grenville Murray</i></td> +<td class="tdr">293</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">English Traits</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Richard Grant White</i></td> +<td class="tdr">520</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">English Women</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Richard Grant White</i></td> +<td class="tdr">675</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Executive Patronage and Civil Service Reform</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>J. L. M. Curry</i></td> +<td class="tdr">826</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Fascinations of Angling, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>George Dawson</i></td> +<td class="tdr">818</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Fallen Among Thieves</td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr">809</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Great Seal of the United States</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>John D. Champlin, Jr.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">691</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Hard Times</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Charles Wyllys Elliott</i></td> +<td class="tdr">474</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_52">Head of Hercules, The</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>James M. Floyd</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_111">Heartbreak Cameo</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Lizzie W. Champney</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Home of My Heart</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>F. W. Bourdillon</i></td> +<td class="tdr">543</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_124">Influences</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Charles Carroll</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_42">Juliet on the Balcony</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Howard Glyndon</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Lassie's Complaint, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>James Kennedy</i></td> +<td class="tdr">367</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Libraries, Public in the United States</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>John A. Church</i></td> +<td class="tdr">639</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Life Insurance</td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr">686, 803</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_137">Literature, Current</a></td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a>, 279, 425, 567, 708, 855</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_51">Love's Messengers</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary Ainge De Vere</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Love's Requiem</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>William Winter</i></td> +<td class="tdr">182</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_23">Lucille's Letter</a></td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_30">Madcap Violet. Chapters XLIV. to End</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>William Black</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Margary, The Murder of</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Walter A. Burlingame</i></td> +<td class="tdr">175</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Miss Misanthrope. Chapters I. to XX.</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Justin McCarthy</i></td> +<td class="tdr">244, 302, 450, 597, 746</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Miss Tinsel</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Henry Sedley</i></td> +<td class="tdr">337</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Mohegan-Hudson</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>James Manning Winchell</i></td> +<td class="tdr">637</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_119">Monsieur Delille</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>T. S. Fay</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">National Bank Notes, How Redeemed</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Frank W. Lautz</i></td> +<td class="tdr">647</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_144">Nebulæ</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>By The Editor</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_144">144</a>, 288, 431, 576, 720, 864</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_95">Normandy and Pyrenees</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Henry James, Jr.</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">On Being Born Away from Home</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Titus Munson Coan</i></td> +<td class="tdr">533</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_43">Our Rural Divinity</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>John Burroughs</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span>Philter, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary B. Dodge</i></td> +<td class="tdr">242</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Portrait D'une Jeune Femme Inconnue</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>M. E. W. S.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">336</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Progressive Baby, A</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>S. F. Hopkins</i></td> +<td class="tdr">581, 727</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Punished, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Ella Wheeler</i></td> +<td class="tdr">789</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Pythia, The Modern</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>S. B. Luce</i></td> +<td class="tdr">209</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Renunciation</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Kate Hillard</i></td> +<td class="tdr">358</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Reflected Light</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary Ainge De Vere</i></td> +<td class="tdr">802</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_61">Romance</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>J. W. De Forest</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Roman Picture, A</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary Lowe Dickinson</i></td> +<td class="tdr">674</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Saint Lambert's Coal</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Margaret J. Preston</i></td> +<td class="tdr">519</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_129"><span class="smcap">Scientific Miscellany</span></a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Prof. John A. Church</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_129">129</a>, 269, 415, 558, 699, 846</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<div class="blockquot2"><p> +<a href="#Page_129">Complications of the Channel Tunnel</a>; +<a href="#Page_129">A Town of Dwarfs</a>; <a href="#Page_130">Whooping +Cough</a>; <a href="#Page_130">British Association Notes</a>; +<a href="#Page_131">An English Crop</a>; <a href="#Page_132">Influence of +White Colors</a>; <a href="#Page_133">An Involved Accident</a>; <a href="#Page_133">An Old Aqueduct System</a>; +<a href="#Page_134">Galvanism Cannot Restore Exhausted Vitality</a>; <a href="#Page_134">Curious Optical +Experiments</a>; <a href="#Page_135">Ice Machines</a>; <a href="#Page_135">American Antiquities</a>; +Protection from +Lightning; Steam Machinery and Privateering; Man and Animals; The +Limbs of Whales; Our Educational Standing; Surface Markings; The +Oldest Stone Tools; Origin of the Spanish People; The English +Meteorite; The Boomerang; A Western Lava Field; The Principle of +Cephalization; Curiosities of the Herring Fishery; Natural Gas in +Furnaces; South Carolina Phosphates; Rare Metals from Old Coins; A +French Mountain Weather Station; Migration of the Lemming; New +Discovery of Neolithic Remains; October Weather; French National +Antiquities; The Force of Crystallization; Frozen Nitro-Glycerine; +English Great Guns; Ear Trumpets for Pilots; Hot Water in Dressing +Ores; Ocean Echoes; The Delicacy of Chemists' Balances; Government +Control of the Dead; Microscopic Life; The Sources of Potable Water; +Theory of the Radiometer; Tempered Glass in The Household; The New +York Aquarium; The Cruelty of Hunting; The Gorilla in Confinement; +Instruction Shops In Boston; Moon Madness; The Argument against +Vaccination; The Telephone; Damages by an Insect; The Summer +Scientific Schools; An Intelligent Quarantine; The "Grasshopper +Commission"; Surveying Plans for the Season; The Causes of Violent +Death; A New Induction Coil; French Property Owners; Trigonometrical +Survey of New York; The Use of Air in Ore Dressing; Polar +Colonization; The Survey in California; A German Savant among the +Sioux; Ballooning for Air Currents; The Greatest of Rifles; Vienna +Bread; Modern Loss in Warfare; A New Treasury Rule; A Hygienic +School; Microscopic Comparison of Blood Corpuscles; The Summer +Scientific Schools; The Wages Value of Steam Power; The Negro's +Color; Scientific Items. +</p> +</div> + +<table summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_70">Shakespeare, On Reading</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Richard Grant White</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a>, 233</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Shall Punishment Punish?</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Chauncey Hickox</i></td> +<td class="tdr">355</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Sister St. Luke</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Constance Fenimore Woolson</i></td> +<td class="tdr">489</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Sounding Brass</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Lizzie W. Champney</i></td> +<td class="tdr">671</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">South, The, Her Condition and Needs</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Hon. J. L. M. Curry</i></td> +<td class="tdr">544</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Story of a Lion</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Albert Rhodes</i></td> +<td class="tdr">196</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Spring</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>H. R. H.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">841</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Spring Longing</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Emma Lazarus</i></td> +<td class="tdr">725</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Theatres of London</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Henry James, Jr.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">661</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Three Periods of Modern Music</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Richard Grant White</i></td> +<td class="tdr">832</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Théâtre Français, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Henry James, Jr.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">437</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Tried and True</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Sylvester Baxter</i></td> +<td class="tdr">470</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Two Worlds, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Ellice Hopkins</i></td> +<td class="tdr">488</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Unknown Persons</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary Murdoch Mason</i></td> +<td class="tdr">657</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">"Uniformed Militia" Service, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>C. H. M.</i></td> +<td class="tdr">776</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#Page_29">Walt Whitman, To</a></td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Joaquin Miller</i></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Woman's Gifts, A</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Mary Ainge De Vere</i></td> +<td class="tdr">208</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Wordsworth's Corrections</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Titus Munson Coan</i></td> +<td class="tdr">322</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Yosemite Hermit, The</td> +<td class="tdl"><i>Clara G. Dolliver</i></td> +<td class="tdr">782</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<p class="fm2">THE GALAXY.</p> +<p class="fm3">VOL. XXIII.—JANUARY, 1877.—No. 1.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ADMINISTRATION_OF_ABRAHAM_LINCOLN" id="ADMINISTRATION_OF_ABRAHAM_LINCOLN"></a>ADMINISTRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.</h2> + + +<p>The political differences which have generated parties in this country +date back to an early period. They existed under the old confederation, +were perceptible in the formation of the Constitution and establishment +of "a more perfect union." Differences on fundamental principles of +government led to the organization of parties which, under various +names, after the adoption of the Federal Constitution, divided the +people and influenced and often controlled national and State elections. +Neither of the parties, however, has always strictly adhered or been +true to its professed principles. Each has, under the pressure of +circumstances and to secure temporary ascendancy in the Federal or State +governments, departed from the landmarks and traditions which gave it +its distinctive character. The <i>Centralists</i>, a name which more +significantly than any other expresses the character, principles, and +tendency of those who favor centralization of power in a supreme head +that shall exercise paternal control over States and people, have under +various names constituted one party. On the other hand, the <i>Statists</i>, +under different names, have from the first been jealous of central +supremacy. They believe in local self-government, support the States in +all their reserved and ungranted rights, insist on a strict construction +of the Constitution and the limitation of Federal authority to the +powers specifically delegated in that instrument.</p> + +<p>The broad and deep line of demarcation between these parties has not +always been acknowledged. Innovation and change have sometimes modified +and disturbed this line; but after a period the distinctive boundary has +reappeared and antagonized the people. During the administration of Mr. +Monroe, known as the "era of good feeling," national party lines were +almost totally obliterated, and local and personal controversies took +their place. National questions were revived, however, and contested +with extreme violence during several succeeding administrations. Thirty +years later, when the issues of bank, tariff, internal improvements, and +an independent treasury were disposed of, there was as complete a break +up of parties as in the days of Monroe. It was not, however, in an "era +of good feeling" that this later dislocation of parties took place; but +an attempt was made in 1850 by leading politicians belonging to +different organizations to unite the people by a compromise or an +arrangement as unnatural as it was insincere—party lines if not +obliterated were, as the authors intended, in a measure broken down. +This compromise, as it was called, was a sacrifice of honest principles, +and instead of allaying disputes, was followed by a terrific storm of +contention and violence transcending <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>thing the country had ever +experienced, and ended in a civil war.</p> + +<p>The time has not yet arrived for a calm and dispassionate review of the +acts and actors of that period and the events of the immediately +succeeding years; but the incidents that took place and the experience +so dearly purchased should not be perverted, misunderstood, or wholly +forgotten.</p> + +<p>The compromises of 1850, instead of adjusting differences and making the +people of one mind on political questions, actually caused in their +practical results the alienation of life-long party friends, led to new +associations among old opponents, and created organizations that partook +more of a sectional character than of honest constitutional differences +on fundamental questions relative to the powers and authority of the +Government, such as had previously divided the people. The facility with +which old political opponents came together in the compromise measures +of 1850, and abandoned principles and doctrines for which they had +battled through their whole lives, begot popular distrust. Confidence in +the sincerity of the men who so readily made sacrifices of principles +was forfeited or greatly impaired. The Whig party dwindled under it, and +as an organization shortly went out of existence. A large portion of its +members, disgusted with what they considered the insincerity if not +faithlessness of their leaders, yet unwilling to attach themselves to +the Democratic party, which had coalesced in the movement, gathered +together in a secret organization, styling themselves "Know Nothings." +Democrats in some quarters, scarcely less dissatisfied with the +compromises, joined the Know Nothing order, and in one or two annual +elections this strange combination, without avowed principles or +purpose, save that of the defeat and overthrow of politicians, who were +once their trusted favorites, was successful. In this demoralized +condition of affairs, the Democrats by the accession of Whigs in the +Southern States obtained possession of the Government and maintained +their ascendancy through the Pierce administration; and, in a contest +quite as much sectional as political, elected Buchanan in 1856.</p> + +<p>But these were the expiring days of the old Democratic organization, +which, under the amalgamating process of the compromise measures, became +shattered and mixed, especially in the Southern States, with former +Whigs, and was to a great extent thereafter sectionalized. The different +opposing political elements united against it and organized and +established the Republican party, which triumphed in the election of +Lincoln in 1860. The administration which followed and was inaugurated +in 1861 differed in essential particulars from either of the preceding +political organizations. Men of opposing principles—Centralists, who +like Hamilton and patriots of that class were for a strong imperial +national government, with supervising and controlling authority over the +States, on one hand, and Statists on the other, who, like Jefferson, +adhered to State individuality and favored a league or federation of +States, a national republic of limited and clearly defined powers, with +a strict observance of all the reserved right of the local +commonwealths—were brought together in the elections of 1860. It has +been represented and recorded as grave history that the Republican party +was an abolition party. Such was not the fact, although the small and +utterly powerless faction which, under the lead of William Lloyd +Garrison and others, had for years made aggressive war on slavery, was +one of the elements which united with Whigs and Democrats in the +election of Mr. Lincoln. Nor was that result a Whig triumph, though a +large portion of the Whigs in the free States, after the compromises of +1850, from natural antagonism to the Democrats, entered into the +Republican organization. While it is true that a large majority of the +Whigs of the North relinquished their old organization and became +Republicans, it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> no less true that throughout the slave States, and +in many of the free States, the members of the Whig party to a +considerable extent supported Bell or Breckenridge. But Democrats +dissatisfied with the measures of the Pierce and Buchanan +administrations, in much larger numbers than is generally conceded, took +early and efficient part in the Republican organizations—some on +account of the repeal of the Missouri compromise, but a much larger +number in consequence of the efforts of the central Government at +Washington, by what was considered by them an abuse of civil trust, and +by military interference, to overpower the settlers in Kansas, denying +them the right of self-government, and an attempt arbitrarily and +surreptitiously to impose upon the inhabitants against their will a +fraudulent Constitution. It was this large contribution of free-thinking +and independent Democrats, who had the courage to throw off party +allegiance and discipline in behalf of the principles of free government +on which our republican system is founded, the right of the people to +self-government, and, consequently, the right to form and establish +their own constitution without dictation or interference from the +central government so long as they violated no provision of the organic +law, that gave tone, form, and ascendancy to the Republican party in +every free State.</p> + +<p>Persistent efforts have been made to establish as historical truths the +representations that the civil war had its origin in a scheme or purpose +to abolish slavery in the States where it existed, and that the election +of Abraham Lincoln was an abolition triumph—a premeditated, aggressive, +sectional war upon the South; whereas the reverse is the fact—the +Republican party in its inception was a strictly constitutional party, +that defended the rights of the people, the rights of the States, and +the rights of the Federal Government, which were assailed by a sectional +combination that was not satisfied with the Constitution as it was, but +proposed to exact new guarantees from the nation for the protection of +what they called "Southern rights"—rights unknown to the Constitution. +The misrepresentations that the Republicans were aggressive and aimed to +change the organic law have not been without their influence, +temporarily at least, in prejudicing and warping the public mind. It is +true that the slavery question was most injudiciously and unwisely +brought into the party controversies of the country; but it was done by +the slaveholders or their political representatives in Congress after +the failure of the nullifiers to obtain ascendancy in the Government on +the subject of free trade and resistance to the revenue laws.</p> + +<p>John C. Calhoun, a man of undoubted talents, but of unappeasable +ambition, had at an early period of his life, while Secretary of War, +and still a young man, aspired to the office of President. By his +ability and patriotic course during the war of 1812, and subsequently by +a brilliant career as a member of Mr. Monroe's Cabinet, he had acquired +fame and a certain degree of popularity which favored his pretensions, +particularly with young men and army officers. Schemes and projects of +national aggrandizement by internal improvements, protection to home +industries, large military expenditures, and measures of a centralizing +tendency which were popular in that era of no parties, gave him <i>éclat</i> +as Secretary of War. Flattered by his attentions and by his shining +qualities, military men became his enthusiastic supporters, and received +encouragement from him in return. It was the first attempt to elect so +young a man to be Chief Magistrate, and was more personal than political +in its character. In the memorable contest for the successorship to +President Monroe, Mr. Calhoun at one time seemed to be a formidable +candidate; but his popularity being personal was evanescent, and failed +to enlist the considerate and reflecting. Even his military hopes were +soon eclipsed by General Jack<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>son, whose bold achievements and successes +in the Indian and British wars captivated the popular mind. Jackson had +also, as a representative and Senator in Congress, Judge of the Supreme +Court of Tennessee, and Governor of Florida, great civil experience. Mr. +Calhoun was, however, in the political struggle that took place in 1824, +elected to the second office of the republic, while in the strife, +confusion, and break up of parties no one of the competing candidates +for President received a majority of the electoral votes. He and his +supporters submitted to, it may be said acquiesced in, the result then +and also in 1828, when General Jackson was elected President and Mr. +Calhoun was reëlected to the office of Vice-President. This +acquiescence, however, was reluctant; but with an expectation that he +would in 1833, at the close of General Jackson's term, be the successor +of the distinguished military chieftain.</p> + +<p>But the arrangements of calculating politicians often end in +disappointments. Such was the misfortune of Mr. Calhoun. His ambitious +and apparently well contrived plans had most of them an abortive and +hapless termination. Observation and experience convinced him, after +leaving Mr. Monroe's Cabinet, that the educated and reflective Statists +or State rights men of the country, and especially of the South, would +never sanction or be reconciled to the exercise of power by the Federal +Government to protect the manufacturing interests of New England, or to +construct roads and canals in the West, at the expense of the National +Treasury. These were, however, favorite measures of a class of +politicians of the period who had special interests to subserve, and who +carried with them the consolidationists, or advocates of a strong and +magnificent central government. The tariff, internal improvements, and +kindred subjects became classified and known in the party politics of +that day as the "American system"—a system of high taxes and large +expenditures by the Federal Government—without specific constitutional +authority for either. Parties were arrayed on opposite sides of this +system, which, besides the political principles involved, soon partook +of a sectional character. High and oppressive duties on importations, it +was claimed, were imposed to foster certain industries in the North to +the injury of the South.</p> + +<p>Henry Clay, a politician and statesman of wonderful magnetic power, was +the eloquent champion of the "American system," and enlisted in his +favor the large manufacturing interest in the North and the friends of +internal improvement in the West. These measures were made national +issues, and Mr. Clay, Speaker of the House of Representatives, +appropriated them to his personal advancement, and was their recognized +leading advocate. Mr. Calhoun could not be second to his Western rival, +but abandoned the policy of protection, internal improvements, and great +national undertakings, and allied himself to the commercial and +plantation interests, which opposed the system, expecting to identify +himself with and to receive the support of the Statists. But the strict +constructionists of Virginia, Georgia, and other States of the old +Jefferson school distrusted him and withheld their confidence and +support.</p> + +<p>South Carolina, erratic, brilliant, and impulsive, had never fully +harmonized with the politicians of Virginia in their political +doctrines, but had been inclined to ridicule the rigid and +non-progressive principles of her statesmen, who, always cautious, were +now slow to receive into fellowship and to commit themselves to the new +convert who sought their support. They slighted him, and rejected his +nullification remedies. Instead of following the Palmetto State in her +fanatical party schemes on the alleged issue of free trade, and +supporting her "favorite son" in his theories, they sustained General +Jackson, whose Union sentiments they approved, and who, to the disgust +of Calhoun, became a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> candidate for reëlection in 1832 and received the +votes of almost the whole South.</p> + +<p>In this crisis, when the heated partisans of South Carolina in their +zeal for free trade and State rights had made a step in advance of the +more staid and reflecting Statists, and undertook to abrogate and +nullify the laws of the Federal Government legally enacted, they found +themselves unsupported and in difficulty, and naturally turned to their +acknowledged leader for guidance. To contest the Federal Government, and +pioneer the way for his associates to resist and overthrow the +Administration, Mr. Calhoun resigned the office of Vice-President and +accepted that of Senator, where his active mind, fertile in resources, +could, and as he and they believed would extricate them. There was, +however, at the head of the Government in that day a stern, patriotic, +and uncompromising Chief Magistrate, who would listen to no mere +temporizing expedients when the stability of the Union was involved, and +who, while recognizing and maintaining the rights of the States, never +forgot the rights that belonged to the Federal Government. In his +extremity, when confronting this inflexible President, Mr. Calhoun +hastened to make friends with his old opponents, Clay, Webster, and the +protectionists, the advocates of the "American system," the authors and +champions of the very policy which had been made the pretext or +justification for nullification and resistance to Federal law and the +Federal authority. This coalition of hostile factions combined in a +scheme, or compromise, where each sacrificed principles to oppose the +administration of Jackson. It was an insincere and unrighteous coalition +which soon fell asunder.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, while nullification was hopelessly prostrate, and +before the coalition was complete, the prolific mind of the aspiring +Carolinian devised a new plan and a new system of tactics which it was +expected would sectionalize and unite the South. This new device was a +defence of slavery—a subject in which the entire South was +interested—against the impudent demands of the abolitionists. Not until +the nullifiers were defeated, and had failed to draw the South into +their nullification plan, was slavery agitation introduced into Congress +and made a sectional party question with aggressive demands for national +protection. The abolitionists were few in numbers, and of little account +in American politics. Some benevolent Quakers and uneasy fanatics, who +neither comprehended the structure of our Federal system nor cared for +the Constitution, had annually for forty years petitioned Congress to +give freedom to the slaves. But the statesmen of neither party listened +to these unconstitutional appeals until the defeated nullifiers +professed great apprehension in regard to them, and introduced the +subject as a disturbance, and made it a sensational sectional issue in +Congress and the elections.</p> + +<p>From the first agitation of the subject as a party question, slavery in +all its phases was made sectional and aggressive by the South. Beginning +with a denial of the right to petition for the abolition of slavery, and +with demands for new and more exacting national laws for the arrest and +rendition of fugitives, the new sectional party test was followed by +other measures; such as the unconditional admission of Texas, the +extension of slavery into all the free territory acquired from Mexico, +the repeal of the Missouri compromise, a denial to the people of Kansas +of the right to frame their own constitution, and other incidental and +irritating questions that were not legitimately within the scope of +Federal authority. Fierce contentions prevailed for years, sometimes +more violent than at others.</p> + +<p>In 1850 a budget of compromises, which has already been alluded to, +involving a surrender of principles and an enactment of laws that were +unwarranted by the Constitution, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> offensive in other respects, had +been patched up by old Congressional party leaders, ostensibly to +reconcile conflicting views and interests, but which were superficial +remedies for a cancerous disease, and intended more to glorify the +authors than to promote the country's welfare. Both of the great parties +were committed by the managers to these compromises, but the effect upon +each was different. The Whigs, tired of constant defeat, hoped for a +change by the compromises that would give them recognition and power; +but instead of these they found themselves dwarfed and weakened, while +the Democrats, who yielded sound principles to conciliate their Southern +allies, were for a time numerically strengthened in that section by +accessions from the Whigs. Old party lines became broken, and in the +Presidential contest of 1852 the Democratic candidate, General Pierce, a +young and showy, but not profound man, was elected by an overwhelming +majority over the veteran General Scott, who was the candidate of the +Whigs. From this date the Whig organization dwindled and had but a +fragmentary existence. Thenceforward, until the overthrow of the +Democratic party, the Government at Washington tended to centralization. +Fidelity to party, and adherence to organization with little regard for +principle, were its political tests in the free States. Sectional +sentiments to sustain Southern aggressions, under the name of "Southern +rights," were inculcated, violent language, and acts that were scarcely +less so, prevailed through the South and found apologists and defenders +at the North. Presidents Pierce and Buchanan, literally "northern men +with southern principles," were submissive to these sectional +aggressions, acquiesced in the repeal of the Missouri compromise, the +extension and nationalizing of slavery, hitherto a State institution, +and also to the schemes to prevent the establishment of a free +constitution by the people of Kansas. The mass of voters opposed to the +policy of these administrations, and who constituted the Republican +party, were not entirely in accord on fundamental principles and views +of government, but had been brought into united action from the course +of events which followed the Mexican war, the acquisition of territory, +and the unfortunate compromises of 1850. The sectional strife, for the +alleged reason of Lincoln's election and Republican success, which +eventuated in hostilities in 1861, and the tremendous conflict that +succeeded and shook the foundation of the Government during the ensuing +four years, threatening the national existence, absorbed all minor +questions of a purely political party character, and made the Cabinet of +Mr. Lincoln, though its members entertained organic differences, a unit. +There were occasions when the antecedent opinions and convictions of the +members elicited discussion in regard to the powers, limitations, and +attributes of government; but in the midst of war disagreeing political +opinions as well as the laws themselves were silenced. Each and all felt +the necessity of harmonious and efficient action to preserve the Union.</p> + +<p>This was especially the case during the first two years of the war of +secession. Not only the President's constitutional advisers, but the +Republican members of Congress, embracing many captious, factious, and +theoretical controversialists, acted in harmony and concert. Murmurs +were heard among its friends, and dissatisfaction felt that the +Administration was not sufficiently energetic or arbitrary, and because +it did not immediately suppress the rebellion. A long period of peace +which the country had enjoyed rendered the malcontents incapable of +judging of the necessities of preparation for war. "On to Richmond" +became the cry of the impatient and restless before the armies mustered +into service were organized. The violent and impassioned appeals of +excited and mischievous speakers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> and writers created discontent and +clamor that could not always be appeased or successfully resisted. Not +content with honest if not always intelligent criticism of the +Government, some editors, papers, writers, and speakers, at an early +period and indeed throughout the war, condemned the policy pursued, +assumed to direct the management of affairs, and advanced crude and +absurd notions of the manner in which the Government should be +administered and military operations conducted. For a period after the +rout at Bull Run, which seemed a rebuke to these inconsiderate +partisans, there was a temporary lull of complaints and apparent +acquiescence by Republicans in the measures of administration.</p> + +<p>Military differences and army jealousies existed from the beginning, +which were aggravated and stimulated by partisan friends and opponents +of the rival officers, and by dissent from the policy pursued in the +conduct of military affairs to which many took exception.</p> + +<p>General Scott was the military oracle of the Administration in the first +days of the war. His ability and great experience entitled him to regard +and deference on all questions relating to military operations. No one +appreciated his qualities more than the President, unless it was General +Scott himself, who with great self-esteem was nevertheless not +unconscious that his age and infirmities had impaired his physical +energies, and in some respects unfitted him to be the active military +commander. It was his misfortune that he prided himself more if possible +on his civil and political knowledge and his administrative ability than +on his military skill and capacity. As a politician his opinions were +often chimerical, unstable, and of little moment; but his military +knowledge and experience were valuable. With headquarters at Washington, +and for thirty years consulted and trusted by successive administrations +of different parties in important emergencies, internal and external, +and at one time the selected candidate of one of the great political +parties for President, he had reason to feel that he was an important +personage in the republic; also that he was competent, and that it was a +duty for him to participate in political matters, and to advise in civil +affairs when there were threatened dangers. But while he was sagacious +to detect the premonitory symptoms of disturbance, and always ready to +obey and execute military orders, he was in political and civil matters +often weak, irresolute, and infirm of purpose. He had in the autumn of +1860 warned President Buchanan of danger to be apprehended from the +secession movement, and wisely suggested measures to preserve peace; but +he soon distrusted and abandoned his own suggestions. Without much +knowledge of Mr. Lincoln, and believing erroneously, as did many others, +that Mr. Seward was to be the controlling mind in the new +administration, he early put himself in communication with that +gentleman. The two agreed upon the policy of surrendering or yielding to +the States in secession the fortresses within their respective limits. +It has been said, and circumstances indicate that there was also an +understanding by Mr. Seward with certain secession leaders, that the +forts, particularly Sumter, if not attacked, should not be reinforced. +Of the plans of Mr. Seward and General Scott, and the understanding +which either of them had with the secessionists, President Lincoln was +not informed; but, while he had a sense of duty and a policy of his own, +he attentively and quietly listened to each and to all others entitled +to give their opinions.</p> + +<p>The reports of Major Anderson and the defence of Sumter being military +operations, the President, pursuant to Mr. Seward's advice, referred to +General Scott, and it was supposed by those gentlemen that the President +acquiesced in their conclusions. Nor were they alone in that +supposition, for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> President, while cautiously feeling his way, +sounding the minds of others, and gathering information from every +quarter, wisely kept his own counsel and delayed announcing his +determination until the last moment. He was accused of being culpably +slow, when he was wisely deliberate.</p> + +<p>When his decision to reinforce Sumter was finally made known, the +Secretary of State and the General-in-Chief were surprised, embarrassed, +and greatly disappointed; for it was an utter negation and defeat of the +policy which they had prescribed. The General, like a good soldier, +quietly and submissively acquiesced; but Mr. Seward, a man of expedients +and some conceit, was unwilling and unprepared to surrender the first +place in the Administration, and virtually publish the fact by an +Executive mandate which upset his promised and preferred arrangements. +It was then that he became aware of two things: first, that neither +himself nor General Scott, nor both combined, were infallible with the +Administration; and second, that the President, with all his suavity and +genial nature, had a mind of his own, and the resolution and +self-reliance to form, and the firmness and independence to execute a +purpose. They had each overestimated the influence of the other with the +President, and underestimated his capacity, will, and self-reliance. +When the Secretary became convinced that he could not alter the +President's determination, he conformed to circumstances, immediately +changed his tactics, and after notifying the authorities at Charleston +that the garrison in Sumter was to be supplied, he took prompt but +secret measures to defeat the expedition by detaching the flagship, and +sending her, with the supplies and reinforcements that had been prepared +and intended for Sumter, to Fort Pickens. In doing this he consulted +neither the War nor Navy Departments, to which the service belonged; but +discarding both, and also the General-in-Chief, his preceding special +confidant, and with whom he had until then acted in concert, he took to +his counsel younger military officers, secretly advised with them and +withdrew them from their legitimate and assigned duties. The discourtesy +and the irregularity of the proceeding, when it became known, shocked +General Scott. His pride was touched. He felt the slight, but he was too +good an officer, too subordinate, and too well disciplined, to complain. +The secret military expedition undertaken by the Secretary of State +without the knowledge of the proper departments and of himself, was so +irregular, such evidence of improper administration, that he became +alarmed. He felt keenly the course of Mr. Seward in not consulting him, +and in substituting one of his staff as military adviser for the +Secretary of State; but he was more concerned for the Government and +country.</p> + +<p>A native of Virginia, and imbued with the political doctrines there +prevalent, but unflinching in patriotism and devotion to the Union and +the flag, General Scott hesitated how to act—objected to the hostile +invasion of any State by the national troops, but advised that the +rebellious section should be blockaded by sea and land. He thought that +surrounded by the army and navy the insurgents would be cut off from the +outer world, and when exhausted from non-intercourse and the entire +prostration of trade and commerce they would return to duty; the +"anaconda principle" of exhausting them he believed would be effectual +without invading the territory of States. When the mayor of Baltimore +and a committee of secessionists waited upon the President on the 20th +of April to protest against the passage of troops through that city to +the national capital, he, in deference to the local government, advised +the President to yield to the metropolitan demand, and himself drew up +an Executive order to that effect. The seizure of Harper's Ferry and +Norfolk and the threatened attack upon Washington greatly disturbed him, +but not so much as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> wild cry of the ardent and impulsive which soon +followed of "on to Richmond" with an undisciplined army.</p> + +<p>Sensible of his inability to take the field, he acquiesced in the +selection if he did not propose after the disaster at Bull Run, that +General McClellan should be called to Washington to organize the broken +and demoralized Army of the Potomac. A thorough reorganization was +promptly and effectually accomplished by that officer. In a few days +order, precision, and discipline prevailed—the troops were massed and a +large army was encamped in and about the national capital. But it was +soon evident to the members of the Administration that there was not +perfect accord between the two Generals. The cause and extent of +disagreement were not immediately understood.</p> + +<p>At a Cabinet meeting which took place in September at the headquarters +of the General-in-Chief by reason of his physical infirmities, a brief +discussion occurred which developed coolness if not dissatisfaction. An +inquiry was made by the President as to the exact number of troops then +in and about Washington. General McClellan did not immediately +respond—said he had brought no reports or papers with him. General +Scott said he had not himself recently received any reports. Secretary +Seward took from his pocket some memoranda, stating the number that had +been mustered in a few days previous, and then went on to mention +additional regiments which had arrived several successive days since, +making an aggregate, I think, of about ninety-three thousand men. The +General immediately became grave.</p> + +<p>When the subject matter for which the Cabinet and war officers had been +convened was disposed of, some of the gentlemen left, and General +McClellan was about retiring, when General Scott requested him to +remain, and he also desired the President and the rest of us to listen +to some inquiries and remarks which he wished to make. He was very +deliberate, but evidently very much aggrieved. Addressing General +McClellan, he said:</p> + +<p>"You are perhaps aware, General McClellan, that you were brought to +these headquarters by my advice and by my orders after consulting with +the President. I know you to be intelligent and to be possessed of some +excellent military qualities; and after our late disaster it appeared to +me that you were a proper person to organize and take active command of +this army. I brought you here for that purpose. Many things have been, +as I expected they would be, well done; but in some respects I have been +disappointed. You do not seem to be aware of your true position; and it +was for this reason I desired that the President and these gentlemen +should hear what I have to say. You are here upon my staff to obey my +orders, and should daily report to me. This you have failed to do, and +you appear to labor under the mistake of supposing that you and not I +are General-in-Chief and in command of the armies. I more than you am +responsible for military operations; but since you came here I have been +in no condition to give directions or to advise the President because my +chief of staff has neglected to make reports to me. I cannot answer +simple inquiries which the President or any member of the Cabinet makes +as to the number of troops here; they must go to the State department +and not come to military headquarters for that information."</p> + +<p>Mr. Seward here interposed to say that the statement he had made was +from facts which he had himself collected from day to day as the troops +arrived. "Do I understand," asked General Scott, "that the regiments +report as they come here to the Honorable Secretary of State?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Mr. Cameron, who wished to arrest or soften a painful +interview. "General McClellan is not to blame; it is Seward's work. He +is constantly meddling with what is none of his business, and (alluding +to the Pickens expedition) makes mischief in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> the war and navy +departments by his interference."</p> + +<p>There was in the manner more than in the words a playful sarcasm which +Seward felt and the President evidently enjoyed. General McClellan stood +by the open door with one hand raised and holding it, a good deal +embarrassed. He said he had intended no discourtesy to General Scott, +but he had been so incessantly occupied in organizing and placing the +army, receiving and mustering in the recruits as they arrived, and +attending to what was absolutely indispensable, that it might seem he +omitted some matters of duty, but he should extremely regret if it was +supposed he had been guilty of any disrespect.</p> + +<p>"You are too intelligent and too good a disciplinarian not to know your +duties and the proprieties of military intercourse," said General Scott; +"but seem to have misapprehended your right position. I, you must +understand, am General-in-Chief. You are my chief of staff. When I +brought you here you had my confidence and friendship. I do not say that +you have yet entirely lost my confidence. Good day, General McClellan."</p> + +<p>A few weeks later General Scott was on his own application placed upon +the retired list, and General McClellan became his successor. +Disaffection on the part of any of the officers, if any existed, did not +immediately show itself; the army and people witnessed with pride the +prompt and wonderful reorganization that had taken place, and for a time +exulted in the promised efficiency and capabilities of the "young +Napoleon." But the autumn passed away in grand reviews and showy +parades, where the young General appeared with a numerous staff composed +of wealthy young gentlemen, inexperienced, untrained, and unacquainted +with military duty, who as well as foreign princes had volunteered their +services. Parades and reviews were not useless, and the committal of +wealthy and influential citizens who were placed upon his staff had its +advantages; but as time wore on and no blow was struck or any decisive +movement attempted, complaints became numerous and envy and jealousy +found opportunity to be heard.</p> + +<p>The expectation that the rebellion would be suppressed in ninety days, +and that an undisciplined force of seventy-five thousand men or even +five times that number would march to Richmond, clear the banks of the +Mississippi, capture New Orleans, and overwhelm the whole South, had +given way to more reasonable and rational views before Congress convened +at the regular session in December. Still the slow progress that was +made by the Union armies, and the immense war expenditures, to which our +country was then unaccustomed, caused uneasiness with the people, and +furnished food and excitement for the factions in Congress.</p> + +<p>The anti-slavery feeling was increasing, but efforts to effect +emancipation were not controlling sentiments of the Administration or of +a majority of Congress at the commencement or during the first year of +Mr. Lincoln's term, although such are the representations of party +writers, and to some extent of the historians of the period. Nor did the +Administration, as is often asserted and by many believed, commence +hostilities and make aggressive war on the slave States or their +institutions; but when war began and a national garrison in a national +fortress was attacked, it did not fail to put forth its power and +energies to suppress the rebellion and maintain the integrity of the +Union. Military delays and tardy movements were nevertheless charged to +the imbecility of the Government. It is not to be denied that a portion +of the most active supporters of the President in and out of Congress +and in the armies had in view ulterior purposes than that of suppressing +the insurrection. Some were determined to avail themselves of the +opportunity to abolish slavery, others to extinguish the claim of +reserved sovereignty to the States, and a portion were favorable to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +both of these extremes and to the consolidation of power in the central +Government; but a larger number than either and perhaps more than all +combined were for maintaining the Constitution and Union unimpaired.</p> + +<p>The President, while opposed to all innovating schemes, had the happy +faculty of so far harmonizing and reconciling his differing friends as +to keep them united in resisting the secession movement.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln was in many respects a remarkable man, never while +living fully understood or appreciated. An uncultured child of the +frontiers, with no educational advantages, isolated in youth in his +wilderness home, with few associates and without family traditions, he +knew not his own lineage and connections. Nor was this singular in the +then condition of unsettled frontier life. His grandfather, with Daniel +Boone, left the settled part of Virginia, crossed the Alleghany +mountains, penetrated the "dark and bloody ground," and took up his +residence in the wilds of Kentucky near the close of the Revolutionary +war. There was little intercourse with each other in the new and +scattered settlements destitute of roads and with no mail facilities for +communication with relatives, friends, and the civilized world east of +the mountains. Abraham Lincoln, the grandfather of the President, was a +nephew of Daniel Boone, and partook of the spirit of his brave and +subsequently famous relative. But his residence in his secluded home was +brief. He was killed by the Indians when his son Thomas, the father of +President Lincoln, was only six years old. Four years later the +fatherless boy lost his mother. Left an orphan, this neglected child, +without kith or kindred for whom he cared or who cared for him, led a +careless, thriftless life, became a wandering pioneer, emigrated from +Kentucky when the President was but seven years old, took up his +residence for several years in the remote solitudes of Indiana, and +drifted at a later day to Illinois. This vagrant life, by a shiftless +father, and without a mother or female relative to keep alive and +impress upon him the pedigree and traditions of his family, left the +President without definite knowledge of his origin and that of his +fathers. The deprivation he keenly felt. I heard him say on more than +one occasion that when he laid down his official life he would endeavor +to trace out his genealogy and family history. He had a vague impression +that his family had emigrated from England to Pennsylvania and thence to +Virginia; but, as he remarked in my presence to Mr. Ashmun of +Massachusetts, and afterward to Governor Andrew, there was not, he +thought, any immediate connection with the families of the same name in +Massachusetts, though there was reason to suppose they had a common +ancestry.</p> + +<p>Having entered upon this subject, and already said more than was +anticipated at the commencment, the opportunity is fitting to introduce +extracts from a statement made by himself and to accompany it with other +facts which have come into my possession since his death—facts of which +he had no knowledge.</p> + +<p>In a brief autobiographical sketch of his life, written by himself, he +says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I was born February 12, 1809, in Hardin county, Kentucky. My +parents were both born in Virginia, of undistinguished +families—second families perhaps I should say. My mother, who died +in my tenth year, was of a family of the name of Hanks, some of +whom now reside in Adams and others in Macon county, Illinois. My +paternal grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, emigrated from Rockingham +county, Virginia, to Kentucky, about 1781 or 2, where, a year or +two later, he was killed by Indians, not in battle, but by stealth, +when he was laboring to open a farm in the forest. His ancestors, +who were Quakers, went to Virginia from Berks county, Pennsylvania. +An effort to identify them with the New England family of the same +name ended in nothing more definite than a similarity of Christian +names in both families, such as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai, Solomon, +Abraham, and the like.</p> + +<p>My father, at the death of his father, was but six years of age; +and he grew up literally without education. He removed from +Kentucky to what is now Spencer county, Indiana, in my eighth year. +We reached our new home about the time the State came into the +Union. It was a wild region, with many bears and other wild animals +still in the woods. There I grew up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> There were some schools, so +called; but no qualification was ever required of a teacher, beyond +reading, writing, and ciphering to the rule of three. If a +straggler, supposed to understand Latin, happened to sojourn in the +neighborhood, he was looked upon as a wizard. There was absolutely +nothing to excite ambition for education. Of course when I came of +age I did not know much. Still, somehow, I could read, write, and +cipher, to the rule of three; but that was all. I have not been to +school since. The little advance I now have upon this store of +education I have picked up from time to time under the pressure of +necessity.</p> + +<p>I was raised to farm work, which I continued till I was twenty-two. +At twenty-one I came to Illinois, and passed the first year in +Macon county. Then I got to New Salem, at that time in Sangamon, +now in Menard county, where I remained a year as a sort of clerk in +a store.</p></div> + +<p>In addition to the foregoing I may add that among my acquaintance in +central Pennsylvania were several sisters whose maiden name was Winters. +Two of these sisters were wives of Judges of the Supreme Court of +Pennsylvania. Another sister was the wife of William Potter, a member of +Congress of some note from that State and son of General Potter of the +Revolution. These sisters were the great aunts of President Lincoln, and +I subjoin an obituary notice of the younger sister, Mrs. Potter, who +died in 1875, at the advanced age of eighty-four. There are some +incidents not immediately connected with the subject that might be +omitted, but I think it best to present the obituary in full:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Died, in Bellefonte, at the residence of Edward C. Humes, on Sunday +morning, the 30th of May A. D. 1875, Mrs. Lucy Potter, relict of +Hon. William W. Potter, deceased, aged eighty-four years, nine +months, and two days.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Potter was a member of a large and rather remarkable family; +her father having been born in 1728, married in 1747, died in 1794; +children to the number of nineteen being born to him, the eldest in +1748, the youngest in 1790—their birth extending over a period of +forty-two years. William Winters, the father of the deceased, came +from Berks county to Northumberland, now Lycoming county, in the +year 1778, having purchased the farm lately known as the Judge +Grier farm, near what was called Newberry, but now within the +corporate limits of the city of Williamsport. Mr. Winters was twice +married. His first wife was Ann Boone, a sister of Colonel Daniel +Boone, famous in the early annals of Kentucky. His marriage took +place in the year 1747 in the then province of Virginia. By this +union there were issue eleven children, four males and seven +females. His eldest daughter, Hannah, married in Rockingham county, +Virginia, Abraham Lincoln, the grandfather of President Lincoln. +Shortly before his death, Lincoln, who was killed by the Indians, +visited his father-in-law at what is now Williamsport, and John +Winters, his brother-in-law, returned with him to Kentucky, whither +Mr. Lincoln had removed after his marriage; John being deputed to +look after some lands taken by Colonel Daniel Boone and his father.</p> + +<p>They travelled on foot from the farm, by a route leading by where +Bellefonte now is, the Indian path "leading from Bald Eagle to +Frankstown."</p> + +<p>John Winters visited his sister, Mrs. Potter, in 1843, and +wandering to the hill upon which the Academy is situated, a +messenger was sent for him, his friends thinking he had lost +himself; but he was only looking for the path he and Lincoln had +trod sixty years before, and pointed out with his finger the course +from Spring creek, along Buffalo run, to where it crosses the "Long +Limestone Valley," as the route they had travelled.</p> + +<p>Upon the death of Mr. Winters's first wife, in 1771, he again, in +1774, married. His second wife was Ellen Campbell, who bore him +eight children, three males and five females, of which latter the +subject of this notice was the youngest.</p> + +<p>The father of Mrs. Potter died in 1794, and in 1795 Mrs. Ellen +Winters, his widow, was licensed by the courts of Lycoming county +to keep a "house of entertainment" where Williamsport now is—where +she lived and reared her own children as well as several of her +step children.</p> + +<p>Here all her daughters married, Mary becoming the wife of Charles +Huston, who for a number of years adorned the bench of the Supreme +Court of this State; Ellen, the wife of Thomas Burnside, who was a +member of Congress, Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, and finally +a Justice of the Supreme Court; Sarah, the wife of Benjamin Harris, +whose daughter, Miss Ellen Harris, resides on Spring street in this +borough; Elizabeth, the wife of Thomas Alexander, a carpenter and +builder, who erected one of the first dwellings in Williamsport, at +the corner of what are now Pine and Third streets in that city, and +many of whose descendants are still living in Lycoming county; +Lucy, the wife of William W. Potter, a leading politician in this +county, who died on the 15th day of October, 1888, while a member +of our national Congress.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Potter continued with her mother's family in Lycoming county, +frequently visiting her two sisters, Mrs. Huston and Mrs. Burnside, +who resided in Bellefonte, where, in 1815, she was united in +marriage, by Rev. James Linn, with William W. Potter, a young and +rising lawyer, and son of General James Potter, one of the early +settlers of the county. Here, with her husband until his death, and +then, upon the marriage of her niece, Miss Lucy Alexander, with Mr. +Edward C. Humes, she made her home, living continuously in this +town since her marriage, and having survived her husband for the +long period of thirty-seven years, being that length of time a +widow.</p></div> + +<p>The biographers of President Lincoln have none of them given these facts +because they did not know them, nor was the President himself aware of +them. Of their authenticity so far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> as the relationship of Mr. Lincoln +with the family of Winters is concerned, I have no doubt. His ancestry +in this country, paternal and maternal—Lincoln, Boone, and Winters—is +to be traced to the county of Berks, Pennsylvania.</p> + +<p>A roving child of the forest, where there were not even village schools, +Abraham Lincoln had little early culture, but his vigorous native +intellect sought information wherever it could be obtained with limited +means and opportunities, and overcame almost insuperable obstacles. His +quick perception and powers of observation and reflection, and his +retentive memory were remarkable; his judgment was good, his mental +grasp and comprehension equal to any emergency, his intentions were +always honest, and his skill and tact, with a determination to always +maintain the right, begot confidence and made him successful and great. +Party opponents imputed his success under difficulties that seemed +insurmountable to craft and cunning; but while not deficient in +shrewdness, his success was the result not of deceptive measures or wily +intrigue, but of wisdom and fidelity with an intuitive sagacity that +seldom erred as to measures to be adopted, or the course to be pursued. +It may be said of him, that he possessed inherently a master mind, and +was innately a leader of men. He listened, as I have often remarked, +patiently to the advice and opinions of others, though he might differ +from them; treated unintentional errors with lenity, was forbearing, and +kind to mistaken subordinates, but ever true to his own convictions. He +gathered information and knowledge whenever and wherever he had +opportunity, but quietly put aside assumption and intrusive attempt to +unduly influence and control him.</p> + +<p>Like all his Cabinet, with the exception of Mr. Blair, who had been +educated at West Point, he was without military pretension when he +entered upon his executive duties and encountered at the very threshold +a civil war which had been long maturing, was deeply seated, and in its +progress was almost unprecedented in magnitude. Neither he nor any of +his advisers had personal, official, practical experience in +administering the civil service of the Federal Government. The +commencement of hostilities, before they had time to become familiar +with their duties, imposed upon each and all labors and cares beyond +those of any of their predecessors. To these were added the conduct of +military operations as novel as they were responsible. Unprepared as the +country was for the sudden and formidable insurrection, the +Administration was not less so, yet it was compelled at once to meet it, +make preparations, call out immense armies, and select officers to +organize and command them.</p> + +<p>These commanders were most of them educated military officers, but +possessed of limited experience. Their lives had been passed on a peace +establishment, and they were consequently without practical knowledge. +Many of these, as well as such officers as were selected from civil +life, seemed bewildered by their sudden preferment, and appeared to +labor under the impression that they were clothed not only with military +but civil authority. Some in the higher grades imagined that in addition +to leading armies and fighting battles, they had plenary power to +administer the Government and prescribe the policy to be pursued in +their respective departments. Much difficulty and no small embarrassment +was caused by their mistaken assumptions and acts, in the early part of +the war.</p> + +<p>J. C. Fremont, the western explorer, a political candidate for the +Presidency in 1856, and made a major general by President Lincoln at the +beginning of the rebellion in 1861, was assigned to the command of the +western department. He evidently considered himself clothed with +proconsular powers; that he was a representative of the Government in a +civil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> capacity as well as military commander, and soon after +establishing his headquarters at St. Louis assumed authority over the +slavery question which the President could neither recognize nor permit. +General Hunter, at Port Royal, and General Phelps, in the Gulf, each +laboring under the same error, took upon themselves to issue +extraordinary manifestoes that conflicted with the Constitution and +laws, on the subject of slavery, which the President was compelled to +disavow. The subject, if to be acted upon, was administrative and +belonged to the Government and civil authorities—not to military +commanders. But there was a feeling in Congress and the country which +sympathized with the radical generals in these anti-slavery decrees, +rather than with the law, and the Executive in maintaining it. The +Secretary of War, under whom these generals acted, not inattentive to +current opinion, also took an extraordinary position, and in his annual +report enunciated a policy in regard to the slavery question, without +the assent of the President and without even consulting him. Mr. Lincoln +promptly directed the assuming portion of the report, which had already +been printed, to be cancelled; but the proceeding embarrassed the +Administration and contributed to the retirement of Mr. Cameron from the +Cabinet. These differences in the army, in the Administration, and among +the Republicans in Congress, extended to the people. A radical faction +opposed to the legal, cautious, and considerate policy of the President +began to crystallize and assume shape and form, which, while it did not +openly oppose the President, sowed the seeds of discontent against his +policy and the general management of public affairs.</p> + +<p>The military operations of the period are not here detailed or alluded +to, except incidentally when narrating the action of the Administration +in directing army movements and shaping the policy of the Government. +Nearly one-third of the States were, during the Presidency of Mr. +Lincoln, unrepresented in the national councils, and in open rebellion. +A belt of border States, extending from the Delaware to the Rocky +mountains, which, though represented in Congress, had a divided +population, was distrustful of the President. Yielding the +Administration a qualified support, and opposed to the Government in +almost all its measures, was an old organized and disciplined party in +all the free States, which seemed to consider its obligations to party +paramount to duty to the country. This last, if it did not boldly +participate with the rebels, was an auxiliary, and as a party, hostile +to the Administration, and opposed to nearly every measure for +suppressing the insurrection.</p> + +<p>There were among the friends of the Administration, and especially +during its last two years, radical differences, which in the first +stages of the war were undeveloped. The mild and persuasive temper of +the President, his generous and tolerant disposition, and his kind and +moderate forbearance toward the rebels, whom he invited and would +persuade to return to their allegiance and their duty, did not +correspond with the schemes and designs of the extreme and violent +leaders of the Republican party. They had other objects than +reconstruction to attain, were implacable and revengeful, and some with +ulterior radical views thought the opportunity favorable to effect a +change of administration.</p> + +<p>These had for years fomented division, encouraged strife, and were as +ultra and as unreasonable in their demands and exactions as the +secessionists. Some had welcomed war with grim satisfaction, and were +for prosecuting it unrelentingly with fire and sword to the annihilation +of the rights, and the absolute subversion of the Southern States and +subjection of the Southern people. There was in their ranks unreasoning +fanaticism, and ferocity that partook of barbarism, with a mixture of +political intrigue fatal to our Federal system. These men, dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>satisfied +with President Lincoln, accused him of temporizing, of imbecility, and +of sympathy with the rebels because he would not confiscate their whole +property, and hang or punish them as pirates or traitors. These radical +Republicans, as they were proud to call themselves, occupied, like all +extreme men in high party and revolutionary times, the front rank of +their party, and, though really a minority, gave tone and character to +the Republican organization. Fired with avenging zeal, and often +successful in their extreme views, though to some extent checked and +modified by the President, they were presuming, and flattered themselves +they could, if unsuccessful with Mr. Lincoln, effect a change in the +administration of the Government in 1864 by electing a President who +would conform to their ultra demands. Secret meetings and whispered +consultations were held for that purpose, and for a time aspiring and +calculating politicians gave them encouragement; but it soon became +evident that the conservative sentiment of the Republicans and the +country was with Mr. Lincoln, and that the confidence of the people in +his patriotism and integrity was such as could not be shaken. +Nevertheless, a small band of the radicals held out and would not assent +to his benignant policy. These malcontents undertook to create a +distinct political organization which, if possessed of power, would make +a more fierce and unrelenting war on the rebels, break down their local +institutions, overturn their State governments, subjugate the whites, +elevate the blacks, and give not only freedom to the slaves, but by +national decree override the States, and give suffrage to the whole +colored race. These extreme and rancorous notions found no favor with +Mr. Lincoln, who, though nominally a Whig in the past, had respect for +the Constitution, loved the Federal Union, and had a sacred regard for +the rights of the States, which the Whigs as a party did not entertain. +War two years after secession commenced brought emancipation, but +emancipation did not dissolve the Union, consolidate the Government, or +clothe it with absolute power; nor did it impair the authority and +rights which the States had reserved. Emancipation was a necessary, not +a revolutionary measure, forced upon the Administration by the +secessionists themselves, who insisted that slavery which was local and +sectional should be made national.</p> + +<p>The war was, in fact, defensive on the part of the Government against a +sectional insurrection which had seized the fortresses and public +property of the nation; a war for the maintenance of the Union, not for +its dissolution; a war for the preservation of individual, State, and +Federal rights; good administration would permit neither to be +sacrificed nor one to encroach on the other. The necessary exercise of +extraordinary war powers to suppress the Rebellion had given +encouragement and strength to the centralists who advocated the +consolidation and concentration of authority in the general Government +in peace as well as war, and national supervision over the States and +people. Neither the radical enthusiasts nor the designing centralists +admitted or subscribed to the doctrine that political power emanated +from the people; but it was the theory of both that the authority +exercised by the States was by grant derived from the parental or +general Government. It was their theory that the Government created the +States, not that the States and people created the Government. Some of +them had acquiesced in certain principles which were embodied in the +fundamental law called the Constitution; but the Constitution was in +their view the child of necessity, a mere crude attempt of the theorists +of 1776, who made successful resistance against British authority, to +limit the power of the new central Government which was substituted for +that of the crown. For a period after the Revolution it was admitted +that feeble limitations on central authority had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> been observed, though +it was maintained that those limitations had been obstructions to our +advancing prosperity, the cause of continual controversy, and had +gradually from time to time been dispensed with, broken down, or made to +yield to our growing necessities. The civil war had made innovations—a +sweep, in fact, of many constitutional barriers—and radical +consolidationists like Thaddeus Stevens and Henry Winter Davis felt that +the opportunity to fortify central authority and establish its supremacy +should be improved.</p> + +<p>These were the ideas and principles of leading consolidationists and +radicals in Congress who were politicians of ability, had studied the +science of government, and were from conviction opponents of reserved +rights and State sovereignty and of a mere confederation or Federal +Union, based on the political equality and reserved sovereignty of the +States, but insisted that the central Government should penetrate +further and act directly on the people. Few of these had given much +study or thought to fundamental principles, the character and structure +of our Federal system, or the Constitution itself. Most of them, under +the pressure of schemers and enthusiasts, were willing to assume and +ready to exercise any power deemed expedient, regardless of the organic +law. Almost unrestrained legislation to carry on the war induced a +spirit of indifference to constitutional restraint, and brought about an +assumption by some, a belief by others, that Congress was omnipotent; +that it was the embodiment of the national will, and that the other +departments of the Government as well as the States were subordinate and +subject to central Congressional control. Absolute power, the +centralists assumed and their fanatical associates seemed to suppose, +was vested in the legislative body of the country, and its decrees, +arbitrary and despotic, often originating in and carried first by a +small vote in party caucus, were in all cases claimed to be decisive, +and to be obeyed by the Executive, the judiciary, and the people, +regardless of the Constitution. Parliamentary discussions were not +permitted, or of little avail. The acts of caucus were despotic, +mandatory, and decisive. The several propositions and plans of President +Lincoln to reëstablish the Union, and induce the seceding States to +resume their places and be represented in Congress, were received with +disfavor by the radical leaders, who, without open assault, set in +motion an undercurrent against nearly every Executive proposition as the +weak and impotent offspring of a well meaning and well intentioned, but +not very competent and intelligent mind. It was the difference between +President Lincoln and the radical leaders in Congress on the question of +reconciliation, the restoration of the States, and the reëstablishment +of the Union on the original constitutional basis, which more than even +his genial and tolerant feelings toward the rebels led to political +intrigue among Republican members of Congress for the nomination of new +candidates, and opposition to Mr. Lincoln's reëlection in 1864. At one +period this intrigue seemed formidable, and some professed friends lent +it their countenance, if they did not actually participate in it, who +ultimately disavowed any connection with the proceeding.</p> + +<p>Singular ideas were entertained and began to be developed in +propositions of an extraordinary character, relative to the powers and +the construction of the Government, which were presented to Congress, +even in the first year of the war. Theoretical schemes from cultivated +intellects, as well as crude notions from less intellectual but extreme +men, found expression in resolutions and plans, many of which were +absurd and most of them impracticable and illegal. Foremost and +prominent among them were a series of studied and elaborate resolutions +prepared by Charles Sumner, and submitted to the Senate on the 11th of +February, 1862. Although presented at that early day, they were the germ +of the reconstruc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>tion policy adopted at a later period. In this plan or +project for the treatment of the insurrectionary States and the people +who resided in them, the Massachusetts Senator manifested little regard +for the fundamental law or for State or individual rights. The high +position which this Senator held in the Republican party and in Congress +and the country, his cultured mind and scholarly attainments, his ardent +if not always discreet zeal and efforts to free the slaves and endow the +whole colored race, whether capable or otherwise, with all the rights +and privileges, socially and politically, of the educated and refined +white population whom they had previously served, his readiness and +avowed intention to overthrow the local State governments and the social +system where slavery existed, to subjugate the whites and elevate the +blacks, will justify a special notice; for it was one of the first, if +not the very first of the radical schemes officially presented to change +the character of the Government and the previously existing distinctions +between the races. His theory or plan may be taken as the pioneer of the +many wild and visionary projects of the central and abolition force, +that took shape and form not only during the war, but after hostilities +ceased and the rebels were subdued.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sumner introduced his scheme with a preamble which declared, among +other things, that the "extensive territory" of the South had been +"usurped by pretended governments and organizations"; that "the +Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, cannot be displaced +in its rightful operation within this territory, but must ever continue +the supreme law thereof, notwithstanding the doings of any pretended +governments acting singly or in confederation in order to put an end to +its supremacy." Therefore:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Resolved</i>, 1st. That any vote of secession, or other act by which +any State may undertake to put an end to the supremacy of the +Constitution within its territory, is inoperative and void against +the Constitution, and when sustained by force it becomes a +practical <i>abdication</i> by the State of all rights under the +Constitution, while the treason which it involves still further +works an instant <i>forfeiture</i> of all those functions and powers +essential to the continued existence of the State as a body +politic, so that from that time forward the territory falls under +the exclusive jurisdiction of Congress as other territory, and the +State, being, according to the language of the law, <i>felo de se</i>, +ceases to exist.</p> + +<p>2d. That any combination of men assuming to act in the place of +such State, attempting to ensnare or coerce the inhabitants thereof +into a confederation hostile to the Union, is rebellious, +treasonable, and destitute of all moral authority; and that such +combination is a usurpation incapable of any constitutional +existence and utterly lawless, so that everything dependent upon it +is without constitutional or legal support.</p> + +<p>3d. That the termination of a State under the Constitution +necessarily causes the termination of those peculiar local +institutions which, having no origin in the Constitution, or in +those natural rights which exist Independent of the Constitution, +are upheld by the sole and exclusive authority of the State.</p> + +<p>... Congress will assume complete jurisdiction of such vacated +territory where such unconstitutional and illegal things have been +attempted, and will proceed to establish therein republican forms +of government under the Constitution.</p></div> + +<p>It is not shown how a usurpation or illegal act by conspirators in any +State or States could justify or make legal a usurpation by the general +Government, as this scheme evidently was, nor by what authority Congress +could declare that the illegal, inoperative, and void acts of usurpers +who might have temporary possession of or be a majority in a State, +could constitute a practical abdication by the State itself of all +rights under the Constitution, regardless of the rights of a legal, +loyal minority, guilty of no usurpation or attempted secession—the +innocent victims of a conspiracy; nor where Congress or the Federal +Government obtained authority to pronounce "an instant <i>forfeiture</i> of +all those functions and powers essential to the continued existence of a +State as a body politic, so that from that time forward the territory +falls under the exclusive jurisdiction of Congress as other territory, +and the State, being, according to the language of the law, <i>felo de +se</i>, ceases to exist."</p> + +<p>The administration of Mr. Buchanan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> had laid down as a rule of +government that a State could not be coerced. The whole country not in +rebellion had declared there should be no secession, division, or +destruction of the Federal Union, but here was the most conspicuous +leader of the Republican party in the Senate proposing a scheme to +punish a State, to annihilate and destroy its government, to +territorialize it, to exclude or expel it from the Union, to make no +discrimination in its exclusions and denunciations between the loyal and +disloyal inhabitants, but to punish alike, without trial or conviction, +the just and the unjust. There were, though he was unwilling to admit +it, and was perhaps unaware of it, vindictive feelings, venom, and +revenge in his resolutions and in his whole treatment of the States and +the white people of the South. From the time that he had been stricken +down by the bludgeon of Brooks in the Senate, Mr. Sumner waged +unrelenting war on the whites in the Southern States, and seemed to +suppose it was his special mission—he certainly made it the great +object of his life—to elevate the negro race—to give them at least +equal rights and privileges with the educated and refined class—and did +not conceal his intention and expectation to bring them in as +auxiliaries to the Republican party, and thereby give it permanent +ascendancy. All this was done in the name of humanity, and with apparent +self-convinced sincerity. He was unwilling to acknowledge that he was +governed or influenced by personal resentments in his revolutionary +plans to degrade the intelligent white and exalt the ignorant black +population by tearing down the constitutional edifice. In frequent +interviews which I held with him then and at later periods, when he +found it impossible to hold his positions under the Constitution, he +claimed that he occupied higher ground, and that his authority for these +violent measures was the Declaration of Independence, which declared all +men were born equal, etc. Mr. Sumner was an idealist—neither a +constitutionalist nor a practical statesman. He could pull down, but he +could not construct—could declare what he considered humane, right, and +proper, and act upon it regardless of constitutional compromises or +conventional regulations which were the framework of the Government. No +man connected with the Administration, or in either branch of Congress, +was more thoroughly acquainted with our treaties, so familiar with the +traditions of the Government, or better informed on international law +than Charles Sumner; but on almost all other Governmental questions he +was impulsive and unreliable, and when his feelings were enlisted, +imperious, dogmatical, and often unjust.</p> + +<p>Why innocent persons who were loyal to the Government and the Union +should be disfranchised and proscribed because their neighbors and +fellow citizens had engaged in a conspiracy, he could not explain or +defend. By what authority whole communities and States should be +deprived of the local governments which their fathers had framed, under +which they were born, and with the provisions and traditions of which +they were familiar, was never told.</p> + +<p>His propositions found no favor with the Administration, nor were they +supported at the beginning by any considerable number even of the +extremists in Congress. It required much training by the centralizing +leaders for years and all the tyranny of caucus machinery after the +death of Mr. Lincoln to carry them into effect by a series of +reconstruction measures that were revolutionary in their character, and +which to a certain extent unsettled the principles on which the +Government was founded.</p> + +<p>But the counsel and example of the distinguished Senator from +Massachusetts were not without their influence. Resolutions by radical +Republicans and counter resolutions, chiefly by Democrats, relative to +the powers and limitations of the Federal Government and the status of +States, followed in quick succession. On the 11th of June, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> subject +having been agitated and discussed for four months, Mr. Dixon, a +Republican Senator from Connecticut, whose views coincided in the main +with those of Mr. Lincoln and the Administration, submitted, after +consultation and advisement, the following:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Resolved</i>, That all acts or ordinances of secession, alleged to +have been adopted by any legislature or convention of the people of +any State, are as to the Federal Union absolutely null and void; +and that while such acts may and do subject the individual actors +therein to forfeitures and penalties, they do not, in any degree, +affect the relations of the State wherein they purport to have been +adopted to the Government of the United States, but are as to such +Government acts of rebellion, insurrection, and hostility on the +part of the individuals engaged therein, or giving assent thereto; +and that such States are, notwithstanding such acts or ordinances, +members of the Federal Union, and as such are subject to all the +obligations and duties imposed upon them by the Constitution of the +United States; and the loyal citizens of such States are entitled +to all the rights and privileges thereby guaranteed or conferred.</p></div> + +<p>The resolution of Dixon traversed the policy of Sumner and was the +Executive view of the questions that were agitated in Congress as to the +effect of the rebellion and the condition of the States in insurrection. +The Administration did not admit that rebellion dissolved the Union or +destroyed its federative character; nor did it adopt or assent to the +novel theory that the States and the whole people residing in them had +forfeited all sovereignty and all reserved State and individual rights, +because a portion of the inhabitants had rebelled; nor did it admit that +the usurpation of a portion of any community could bring condemnation +and punishment on all. The usurpations and acts of the rebels were +considered not legal acts, but nullities.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Gideon Welles.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LUCILLES_LETTER" id="LUCILLES_LETTER"></a>LUCILLE'S LETTER.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out of the dreary distance and the dark</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I stretch forth praying palms—yet not to pray;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Hands fold themselves for heaven, while mine, alas!</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Are sundered—held your way.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brief moments have been ours, yet bright as brief;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Oh! how I live them over, one by one,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Now that the endless days, bereft of you,</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Creep slowly, sadly on.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Garnered in memory, those bewildering hours,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A golden harvest of enchantment yield;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Here, like a pale, reluctant Ruth, I glean</span><br /> +<span class="i4">A cold and barren field—</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Barren without a shelter: and the hedge</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Is made of thorns and brambles. If I fain</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Would lean beyond the barrier, do you see</span><br /> +<span class="i4">The wounding and the stain?</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did God make us to mock us, on the earth?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Why did he fuse our spirits by His word,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Then set His awful Angel in our path,</span><br /> +<span class="i4">His Angel with the sword?</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, when I contrite kneel confessing all,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And seek with tears the way to be forgiven—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Why do your pleading eyes look sadly down</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Between my face and heaven?</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why does my blood thrill at your fancied touch—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stop and leap up at your ideal caress?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Ah, God! to feel that dear warm mouth on mine</span><br /> +<span class="i4">In lingering tenderness!</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To lie at perfect peace upon your heart,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Your arms close folded round me firm and fast,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">My cheek to yours—oh, vision dear as vain!</span><br /> +<span class="i4">That would be home at last.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leon, you are my curse, my blessing too,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">My hell, my heaven, my storm that wrecks to save:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Life daunts me, and the shadows lengthen out</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Beyond the grave.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Mary L. Ritter.</span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SOME_OLD_ALMANACKS" id="SOME_OLD_ALMANACKS"></a>SOME OLD ALMANACKS.</h2> + + +<p>Do you know, gentle reader, what an interesting, valuable, and useful +book an "Almanack" once was? You are gorged with books, and newspapers +lie about thick as leaves in Vallambrosa. Do you ever buy an Almanac for +five cents? I trow not. Therefore you do not know how much careful +calculation, skill, and knowledge are to be had for that small piece of +money.</p> + +<p>Therefore you cannot sit down in the evening and pore over its mystic +signs. Indeed, I fear you do not know what a zodiac is, or what the +meaning of "Cancer the Crab" and "Gemini the Twins" may be. It is more +than likely you will reply, "Oh, yes; if the Crab had a Cancer, he would +cry Gemini to the Twins"—and in that light and flippant way you will +try to hide your brutal ignorance, if a male, your shallow +understanding, if a female.</p> + +<p>Now I have just had a sort of musty satisfaction in looking over some +old Almanacs, which dated as far back as 1727. They seem to have been +the property of somebody whose letters were W. S. His almanacs were so +prized that he had interleaved them, and then he recorded his profound +observations. He thus had learned, what I fear you have not, that the +moon had many mysterious influences besides making the tides rise and +fall, if it does. It seems, if we can believe "A Native of New England," +who made B. Greene's Almanack for 1731, that the "Moon has dominion over +man's body," and that when she gets into "Cancer the Crab" you must +expect every sort of bedevilment in your breast and stomach. When she +gets into "Gemini," the same in your arms and shoulders. When she is in +"Scorpio" your bowels and belly are in danger, and so on all through +your body; so that we might well enough wish the moon were wholly +abolished; for the little wishy-washy light she gives to lovers and +thieves is not at all a balance for such fearful threatenings.</p> + +<p>Who was the "Native of New England" is a secret, and well it is, for in +1727 he graced his title-page with this poem:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">——Man—that Noble Creature,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Scanted of time, and stinted by Weak Nature,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That in foretimes saw jubilees of years,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">As by our Ancient History appears;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Nay, which is more, even Silly Women then,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Liv'd longer time than our grave Graybeard Men.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>"Graced," did I say? May we not put a <i>dis</i> before it? "Silly Women!" +"Noble Creature!" Did the Native mean that woman then was silly and man +then noble? Well for him is it that our "Mrs. Ward Howes" and "Mrs. +Lillie Blakes" cannot make rhymes upon <i>his</i> name; well for him that he +went his way holding his mantle before his face.</p> + +<p>But he himself did not hold himself lightly. He knew all about Apogé and +Perigé (we now spell them Apogée and Perigée). But does the Radical Club +itself know anything at all about Apogée and Perigée? He knew when some +"fine moderate weather" would come, when "winds enough for several" +would blow, when "bad weather for hoop petticoats" would be; and that +was on the 29th and 30th of January, 1727. Fearful weather, we may +believe; but he, the <i>Native</i>, knew. But alas for us! On the 2d, he puts +it down as "sloppy and raw cold." Now it so chances that W. S. has kept +his MS. notes against this day, and he has it "<i>Very fine and +pleasant</i>," and the next day, "<i>Dry and dusty.</i>" Lamentable indeed for +the Native! But he is not to be shaken for all that; he prognosticates +through all the year just as if all was to come exactly right. One would +like to know what W. S. thought of his prognosticator, and if he kept on +studying and believing just the same as if all had come right. <i>I</i> do +not doubt he did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now we come to some positive statements about Eclipses, and learn +what we may depend on in that quarter.</p> + +<p>The Native goes on to say, "As to the effects, they chiefly affect those +Men that live by their Ingenuity; I mean Painters, Poets, Mercurialists, +&c." What is a mercurialist? Does he mean the worshippers of Mercury, +thieves, and that sort? "But"—and mark the cautious tone here—"but +whether it forbodes good or ill to them I shall not now determine; only +advise them to prepare for the worst!" Pretty good advice in all times +of eclipse; and in these days even when there is no eclipse. Mark his +modesty: "I do not pretend to Infallibility in my Conjectures, yet (as I +said last year) they many times come out too True to make a jest of." +Then he goes on: "I have read of a story which <i>Thaurus</i> is said to +relate of <i>Andreas Vesalius</i>, a great Astrologer who lived in the reign +of <i>Henry the VIII.</i>; to wit, that he told <i>Maximilian</i> the Day and Hour +of his Death, who, giving credit thereto, ordered a great feast to be +made, inviting his Friends, sat and Eat [ate?] with them; and +afterwards, having distributed his Treasures among them, took leave of +them and Dyed at the time predicted." Most kind of this Maximilian, for +it must have secured a good patronage to the astrologers.</p> + +<p>"Yet it does not from hence follow that a certain rule may be laid +down"—a very fine astrologer, you perceive, may fail—"whereby exactly +to discover the Divine appointments. But there are many concurring +Causes of Mundane Accidents of which Humanity must be content to remain +Ignorant, and (as a wise Author affirms) No Index can be found or formed +whereby to give us any certain Diary or Destiny saving that of our +dear-bought Experience." But how can we learn about our own dying by +experience—which is what we die to know about? He continues: "And here +I cannot but take notice of our <i>Negro-mancers</i>, who, under pretence of +knowledge in the Motions of the <i>Heavens</i>, take upon them to Fore tell +the Appointments of Fate with respect to particular Persons, and thereby +betray the Ignorant part of the World Inevitably into the Worship of the +Devil. But if the Wholesome Laws of the Province were duly executed on +such <i>Negro-mancers</i>, I could venture to Fore tell what would soon be +their Fortune; You may Read it at large in this Province, New Law Book, +<i>page</i> 117.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">"<i>Marblehead</i>, Sept. 28, 1726.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">"N. Bowen."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Ah, friend Bowen was too alarmingly near the Salem witch times when +Minister Parris and Judge Hawthorne had come so nigh putting the Devil +to rout by hanging an old woman or two and squeezing poor Giles Cory to +death. He knew what the Law could do to those wicked negro-mancers if +they went about predicting things in a wicked way. And what a bore it +might become to have a negro-mancer foretelling in a rash and +miscellaneous way one's death and bringing it to pass too some fine and +inconvenient day! Who would not hang a negro-mancer like that?</p> + +<p>But suppose they should go on and squeeze the life out of such mild +negromancers as N. Bowen, Esq., too. What then?</p> + +<p>In 1729 we get an Almanac made by a student <i>with</i> a name—Nathaniel +Ames, junior, <i>student in Physick and Astronomy</i>. He does not apply his +intellect to such great speculations as Bowen grappled with, but runs +easily into poetry of the true Homeric stamp. Listen:</p> + +<p><i>January</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Earth is white like <span class="smcap">Neptune</span>'s foamy face,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">When his proud Waves the hardy Rocks embrace.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p><i>February</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Boreas's chilly breath attacks our Nature,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And turns the Presbyterian to a Quaker.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>What wicked waggery is here hidden, who can tell? One thing is sure, +that Februarys ought to be abolished by the General Court if such is +true; for a Quaker then was an abominable thing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>March</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Phœbus and Mars conjoined do both agree,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">This month shall Warm (nay, more than usual) be.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>We pray that our Almanac makers will conjoin Phœbus and Mars in all +our Marches hereafter, so that we too may "Warm (more than usual) be." +How melodious that line!</p> + +<p><i>April</i> gives a sweet strain, possibly premature—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Birds, like Orphans, now all things invite</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To come and have Melodious, sweet delight.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Like Orphans! Why? Should <i>Orpheus</i> come in there, or are orphans +children of Orpheus? We are perplexed. The words sound alike.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>May</i> like a Virgin quickly yields her Charms,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To the Embrace of Winter's Icy Arms.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>It is not easy to see how that can be. Does he mean that winter had come +back and given May a late frost? And then Virgins do not, so far as I +know, yield to the Embrace of Winter's Icy Arms. Do they? I ask persons +of experience.</p> + +<p><i>June</i> comes upon us heavily—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Sol</span>'s scorching Ray puts Blood in Fermentation,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And is stark raught to acts of Procreation.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>That has a terrible sound. What does he mean?</p> + +<p><i>July</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Moon (this Month), that pale-faced Queen of Night,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Will be disrobed of all her borrowed light.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>No month for lover's madness, this. Not a lover can steal forth by the +light of the moon, or do any foolish thing this month, thanks be to God!</p> + +<p><i>August</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Earth and Sky Resound with Thunder Loud,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And Oblique streams flash from the dusky Cloud.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>That first line demands many capital letters, and what a fine word +Oblique is in the second.</p> + +<p><i>September</i> says—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The burthened earth abounds with various fruit,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Which doth the Epicurean's Palate Suit.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>It is to be hoped these wicked Epicureans got no more than their share, +and that church members were not converted to the heathen philosophy by +such baits.</p> + +<p><i>October</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Tyrant Mars old Saturn now opposes,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Which stirs up Feuds and may make bloody Noses.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>October then was the fighter's month. This begins nobly, but ends +waggishly.</p> + +<p><i>November</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now what remains to Comfort up our lives,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">But Cordial Liquor and kind, loving Wives?</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>"Comfort up," that is good. But the Cordial Liquor is doubtful; and then +are there no girls in the sweet bloom of maidenhood left to Comfort up +our lives? Sad indeed!</p> + +<p><i>December</i> closes up—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Chrystal streams, congealed to Icy Glass,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Become fit roads for Travellers to pass.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Excellent for the travellers.</p> + +<p>But now in the column of "Mutations of Weather," we find this":</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Christmas is nigh;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The bare name of it</span><br /> +<span class="i2">to Rich or Poor</span><br /> +<span class="i4">will be no profit."</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>We are startled. Does he mean to speak ill of Christmas—to stab it? We +look again. No—it is that Christmas without roast Turkeys and Mince +pies will be very bad. The "bare <i>name</i>"—that is what he will none of. +But on the contrary the real thing he will have, with Roasts and bakes, +and—possibly—Cordial Liquor to "Comfort up" the day. What a good word +that "Comfort up" is. We thank Nathaniel for it.</p> + +<p>Now in the volume for 1730 are other interesting items, and the seer and +poet seems to be our old friend, Nathan Bowen. He inclines somewhat to +poetry also, for he thus sings:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saturn in Thirty Years his Ring Compleats,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Which Swiftest Jupiter in Twelve repeats;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Mars Three and Twenty Months revolving spends,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The Earth in Twelve her Annual Journey Ends.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Venus thy Race in twice Four Months is run,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">For his Mercurius Three demands. The Moon</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Her Revolution finishes in One.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">If all at Once are Mov'd, and by one Spring,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Why so Unequal in their Annual Ring?"</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Here again the sensitive soul, anxiously pondering, asks, Are students +of astronomy prone to infidelity, and does this last question mean to +convey the faintest shadow of a doubt? If not, why that "Why"?</p> + +<p>We gladly pass on to another topic, hoping that Nathan was not damned +for skepticism.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"N. B.—The paper Mill mentioned in last year's almanack (at Milton) has +begun to go. Any person that will bring Rags to D. Henchman & T. +Hancock, shall have from 2d. to 6d. a pound according to their +goodness."</p> + +<p>"Begun to go." I like that word. "Commenced operations," "started in +business": how new and poor those great three-syllabled words seem! +"Begun to go"—that is good.</p> + +<p>In 1731 he tells us:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ready money is now</span><br /> +<span class="i4">the best of Wares."</span><br /> +<span class="i0">"Some gain & some loose."</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Dear, dear, how bad! Almost, not quite so miserable, as to-day—all lose +now.</p> + +<p>Then he informs us officially what salutes are to be fired at Castle +William, as follows:</p> + +<table summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">March 1</td> +<td class="tdl">Queen's Berthday</td> +<td class="tdl">21 guns.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">May 29</td> +<td class="tdl">Restoration of K. Ch. II.</td> +<td class="tdl">17 "</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">June 11</td> +<td class="tdl">K. George II. accession</td> +<td class="tdl">21 "</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Oct. 11</td> +<td class="tdl">K. G. II. coronation</td> +<td class="tdl">33 "</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Oct. 30</td> +<td class="tdl">K. G. II. Berthday</td> +<td class="tdl">27 "</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Nov. 5</td> +<td class="tdl">Powder Plot</td> +<td class="tdl">17 "</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Jan. 19</td> +<td class="tdl">Prince of W. Berthday</td> +<td class="tdl">21 "</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<p>In 1732 the Native of New England (if it be Nathan Bowen of Marblehead) +takes hold again and breaks into song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Indulge, and to thy Genius freely give;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">For not to live at Ease is not to live.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Death stalks behind thee, and each flying Hour</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Does some loose Remnant of thy Life devour.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Live while thou livest, for Death shall make us all</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A Name of Nothing, but an Old Wife's Tale.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Speak: wilt thou <span class="smcap">Avorice</span> or <span class="smcap">Pleasure</span> Chuse</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To be thy Lord? Take One & One Refuse.—<i>Perseus</i>.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>We begin to fear indeed that Nathan is little better than one of those +wicked Epicureans himself. <i>Avorice</i> or <i>Pleasure</i>. Take one? Must we +indeed? Pleasure? It looks as if Nathan was a very naughty man.</p> + +<p>Things have evidently not gone quite smoothly with N. Bowen this last +year, for, in his "Kind Reader" of 1733, he says: "Having last year +finished Twelve of my Annual Papers [he means Almanacks], I proposed to +lay down my pen and leave the Drudgery of Calculation to those who have +more leisure and a Clearer Brain than I can pretend to. Indeed, the +Contempt with which a writer of Almanacks is looked on and the Danger he +is in of being accounted a Conjurer"—a negro-mancer—"should seem +sufficient to deter a man from publishing anything of this kind. But +when I consider that all this is the effect of Ignorance, and, +therefore, not worth my Notice or Resentment, and that the most +judicious and learned part of the World have always highly valued and +esteemed such Undertakings as what are not only great and noble in +themselves; but as they are of absolute necessity in the Business and +Affairs of Life, I am induced to appear again in the World, and hope +this will meet with the same kind acceptance with my former."</p> + +<p>With me he meets with the same kind acceptance, for I believe in the +Nobility of the Almanac; and it is certain that every man should believe +in the Nobility of his work whatever it is—then he is sure of <i>one</i> +ardent Admirer. It is sad to think that some carping critic had been +riling the sweet soul of Nathan in the year 1732. It is all over now. +Let us hope he is not damned for his Epicureanism, but is reaping his +crop of praise in a better climate than Marblehead. He gives us more +poetry in 1733, and a clear account of why Leap years are necessary, +which I do not repeat here, the popular belief being that they were +invented in order that maidens might if they wished make love to swains, +which belief I would do nothing to shake.</p> + +<p>In the next year we have quite a learned discourse about the Julian Æra, +Epochs, Olympiads, etc., from which I can only venture to take the +following concise and valuable and accurate statement of this +astronomer:</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Jesus Christ</span> the <span class="smcap">Saviour</span> of the World was Incarnate in the 4,713 year +of the Julian Period; the 3,949 of the Creation, the 4th of the 194th +Olym<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>piad, and the 753 Currant Year of the Roman Foundation."</p> + +<p>Persons having any doubts as to the time of our blessed Saviour's +appearance had better cut this out and keep it carefully for future +reference and for the confusion of "skepticks."</p> + +<p>Let us not leave these interesting vestiges of an earlier creation +without a few words as to W. S. He, as I have said, was the purchaser +and owner of these sacred books. His almanacs were carefully interleaved +and evidently were intended to be not only a record of the wisdom of the +"Students in Physick and Astronomy," but also of events in the lives of +devout owners. We find W. S. begins with fervor and fidelity to record +daily interesting facts such as, in February:</p> + +<p>"Fine, somewhat cold.</p> + +<p>"Very pleasant.</p> + +<p>"A storm of snow.</p> + +<p>"More snow, but clears away windy.</p> + +<p>"A very fine day.</p> + +<p>"<i>Idem</i>, but windy."</p> + +<p>Aha! here, then, we have a man who knew <i>Latin</i> in the Year of our Lord +1727. "<i>Idem</i>"—that is such a good word that he uses it often, and it +has a good sound, too. Through January, February, March he attends daily +to this high duty, and tells us how it was:</p> + +<p>"A bright morning, but a dull day.</p> + +<p>"Windy.</p> + +<p>"Cool."</p> + +<p>On the 27th, "Much rain, a violent storm, snow'd up."</p> + +<p>In April things change. His interest flags. He does not write down his +record every day. Has W. S. grown lazy? Is it too warm for assiduous +tasks, or has a new element come into his life? Let us see. He begins +April:</p> + +<p>"1. A clearer day.</p> + +<p>"2. Set my clock forward 20 m.</p> + +<p>"3. Lethfield arrived from London."</p> + +<p>The clock—that, I believe, was the great event, and that it came from +London. What may it have been? Clearly one of those tall, stately pieces +with the moon and the sun showing their faces on the silver dial, the +fine mahogany case worthy to uphold all. Where is that clock now? Who +can tell? From this time forth this was the object of interest, for in +nearly all the months we have this record, "Set my clock." He grows +terribly indifferent to the weather. A clock then was a wonderful thing, +and it is a wonderful thing now. Think of it. How these little wheels +and springs are so contrived that they tick the seconds and the minutes +and the hours day and night, so that Father Time might himself set his +watch by some of them. But then it was a rarer and a more interesting +thing than now. We can easily fancy the neighbors gathering to see the +fine clock standing in its place in the hall, telling its monotonous +tale all the nights and days.</p> + +<p>But another interesting record now comes in. This, too, is an event—in +May:</p> + +<p>"17. I bottled cyder."</p> + +<p>And then in October again:</p> + +<p>"20. Cyder come."</p> + +<p>Cyder is not a thing to be despised even by a man who knows Latin. But +is not cyder an important thing to everybody? They had neither tea nor +coffee then, and man likes to drink. We may know, too, that in those +days every good woman made a few bottles of currant wine, made also her +rose cakes to sweeten her drawers, gathered and dried lavender to make +lavender-water, also sage and hoarhound, "good for sickness." Alas! that +people might be sick even in those "Good old Times," we know, and we +find that in January, 1727, W. S. puts down carefully this:</p> + +<p>"A Recipe for y<sup>e</sup> cure of Sciatica pains—viz.:</p> + +<p>"Take 2 ounces of flowered brimstone, four ounces of Molasses. Mix y<sup>m</sup> +together, and take a spoonfull morning and evening, and if y<sup>t</sup> do not +effect a cure, take another spoonfull at noon also." You continue until +you get well, or—something!</p> + +<p>Why endure sciatica pains after this? We make no charge for this +valuable knowledge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>But in June we find it put down:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davenport Chosen Tutor And confirmed by y<sup>e</sup> overseers."</p> + +<p>Here we have a clue to the Latin.</p> + +<p>And in August is another entry:</p> + +<p>"Governor Burnett, upon an invitation, came to visit y<sup>e</sup> Coll: +besides—— y<sup>e</sup> Civil Officers in Cambridge w<sup>th</sup> some others, together +with y<sup>e</sup> Masters of Art in College, were invited to dine w<sup>th</sup> him. There +was an Oration in y<sup>e</sup> hall by Sir Clark, some of y<sup>e</sup> neighboring Clergie +were present, & about sixty persons in all had a handsome dinner in y<sup>e</sup> +Library."</p> + +<p>Here <i>was</i> an event to be recorded. But was W. S. present? We remain in +the dark.</p> + +<p>Entries now become more and more uncommon. We learn little more of the +clock or of the cyder; and we are at a loss to explain the reason why. +But lo! we have it! In November there is but one entry, on the</p> + +<p>"21. <i>I was married</i>."</p> + +<p>There is the gospel, without note or comment. To whom? We ask in vain. +"I was married," and that is all. But is not that enough? No more +records about clocks and cyder! What need of those things? Very few +entries are made in this year, and these are records of the thermometer. +Evidently a new one had come from London. But in October is a short and +significant record:</p> + +<p>"19. Bille was born at 5 a clock morning."</p> + +<p>It was inevitable—cause and effect—a striking example—most +philosophic! Had he black eyes or blue? Was he like his father or his +mother? Was he little or big? Did he weigh eight pounds or ten? Did he +live to be a man? None of these things are recorded, and we shall never +know. After this supreme event few entries appear in the diary through +the years. Life has become engrossing, important. Let us hope it was +sufficing and not full of failure and trouble; let us enjoy the pleasure +of believing so, as we well may. The clock, the cyder, the thermometer, +the little Bille: what more important matters had he or have we to +record? We part with the three, the four faint shadows, Nathaniel, +Nathan, W. S., and little Bille, with a mild regret, hoping we may meet +them, and especially "little Bille," on the other side. Till then +farewell.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Charles Wyllys Elliott.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_WALT_WHITMAN" id="TO_WALT_WHITMAN"></a>TO WALT WHITMAN.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Titan soul, ascend your starry steep</span><br /> +<span class="i0">On golden stair to gods and storied men!</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Ascend! nor care where thy traducers creep.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">For what may well be said of prophets when</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A world that's wicked comes to call them good?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Ascend and sing! As kings of thought who stood</span><br /> +<span class="i0">On stormy heights and held far lights to men,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stand thou and shout above the tumbled roar,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Lest brave ships drive and break against the shore.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What though thy sounding song be roughly set?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Parnassus' self is rough! Give thou the thought,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The golden ore, the gems that few forget;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">In time the tinsel jewel will be wrought....</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stand thou alone and fixed as destiny;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">An imaged god that lifts above all hate,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stand thou serene and satisfied with fate.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stand thou as stands that lightning-riven tree</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That lords the cloven clouds of gray Yosemite.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, lone, sad soul, thy heights must be thy home.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Thou sweetest lover! love shall climb to thee,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Like incense curling some cathedral dome</span><br /> +<span class="i0">From many distant vales. Yet thou shalt be,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">O grand, sweet singer, to the end alone.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">But murmur not. The moon, the mighty spheres,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Spin on alone through all the soundless years;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Alone man comes on earth; he lives alone;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Alone he turns to front the dark Unknown.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then range thine upper world, nor stoop to wars.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Walk thou the heights as walked the old Greeks when</span><br /> +<span class="i0">They talked to austere gods, nor turned to men.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Teach thou the order of the singing stars.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Behold, in mad disorder these are set,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And yet they sing in ceaseless harmonies.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">They spill as jewels spilt through space. They fret</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The souls of men who measure melodies</span><br /> +<span class="i0">As they would measure slimy deeps of seas.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take comfort, O uncommon soul. Yet pray</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Lest ye grow proud in such exalted worth.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Let no man reckon he excels. I say</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The laws of compensation compass earth,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And no man gains without some equal loss:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Each ladder round of fame becomes a rod,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And he who lives must die upon a cross.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The stars are far, but flowers bless the sod,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And he who has the least of man has most of God.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Joaquin Miller.</span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MADCAP_VIOLET" id="MADCAP_VIOLET"></a>MADCAP VIOLET.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By William Black.</span></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3> + +<h4>JOY AND FEAR.</h4> + + +<p>Was this man mad, that he, an invalid, propped up in his chair, and +scarcely able to move a wine-glass out of his way, should play pranks +with the whole created order of things, tossing about solar systems as +if they were no more than juggler's balls, and making universal systems +of philosophy jump through hoops as if he were a lion tamer in a den? +These poor women did not know where to catch him. Violet used to say +that he was like a prism, taking the ordinary daylight of life and +splitting it up into a thousand gay and glancing colors. That was all +very well as a spectacular exhibition; but how when he was apparently +instructing them in some serious matter? Was it fair to these tender +creatures who had so lovingly nursed him, that he should assume the airs +of a teacher, and gravely lead out his trusting disciples into the +desert places of the earth, when his only object was to get them into a +bog and then suddenly reveal himself as a will-o'-the-wisp, laughing at +them with a fiendish joy?</p> + +<p>What, for example, was all this nonsense about the land question—about +the impossibility of settling it in England so long as the superstitious +regard for land existed in the English mind? They were quite ready to +believe him. They deprecated that superstition most sincerely. They +could not understand why a moneyed Englishman's first impulse was to go +and buy land; they could give no reason for the delusion existing in the +bosom of every Englishman that he, if no one else, could make money out +of the occupation of a farm that had ruined a dozen men in succession. +All this was very well; but what were they to make of his sudden +turning round and defending that superstition as the most beautiful +sentiment in human nature? It was, according to him, the sublimest +manifestation of filial love—the instinct of affection for the great +mother of us all. And then the flowers became our small sisters and +brothers; and the dumb look of appeal in a horse's eye, and the singing +of a thrush at the break of day—these were but portions of the +inarticulate language now no longer known to us. What was any human +being to make of this rambling nonsense?</p> + +<p>It all came of the dress coat, and of his childish vanity in his white +wristbands. It was the first occasion on which he had ceremoniously +dressed for dinner; and Violet had come over; and he was as proud of his +high and stiff collar, and of his white necktie, as if they had been the +ribbon and star of a royal order. And then they were all going off the +next morning—Miss North included—to a strange little place on the +other side of the Isle of Wight; and he had gone "clean daft" with the +delight of expectation. There was nothing sacred from his mischievous +fancy. He would have made fun of a bishop. In fact he did; for, +happening to talk of inarticulate language, he described having seen +"the other day," in Buckingham Palace road, a bishop who was looking at +some china in a shop window; and he went on to declare how a young +person driving a perambulator, and too earnestly occupied with a sentry +on the other side of the road, incontinently drove that perambulator +right on to the carefully swathed toes of the bishop; and then he +devoted himself to analyzing the awful language which he <i>saw</i> on the +afflicted man's face.</p> + +<p>"But, uncle," said Amy Warrener,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> with the delightful freshness of +fifteen, "how could you see anybody in Buckingham Palace road the other +day, when you haven't been out of the house for months?"</p> + +<p>"How?" said he, not a whit abashed. "How could I see him? I don't know, +but I tell you I did see him. With my eyes, of course."</p> + +<p>He lost his temper, however, after all.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow," he was saying, "I bid good-by to my doctor. I bear him no +malice; may he long be spared from having to meet in the next world the +people he sent there before him! But look here, Violet—to-morrow +evening we shall be <i>free</i>—and we shall celebrate our freedom, and our +first glimpse of a seashore, in Scotch whiskey—in hot Scotch +whiskey—in Scotch whiskey with the boilingest of boiling water, just +caught at the proper point of cooling. You don't know that point; I will +teach you; it is perfection. Don't you know that we have just caught the +cooling point of the earth—just that point in its transition from being +a molten mass to its becoming a chilled and played out stone that admits +of our living——"</p> + +<p>"But, uncle," said Amy, "I thought the earth used to be far colder than +it is now. Remember the glacial period," added this profound student of +physics.</p> + +<p>This was too much.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear me!" he exclaimed. "Am I to be brought up at every second by +a pert schoolgirl when I am expounding the mysteries of life? What have +your twopenny-halfpenny science primers to do with the grand secret of +toddy? I tell you we must <i>catch it at the cooling point</i>; and then, +Violet—for you are a respectful and attentive student—if the evening +is fine, and the air warm, and the windows open and looking out to the +south—do you think the doctor could object to that one first, faint +trial of a cigarette, just to make us think we are up again in the +August nights—off Isle Ornsay—with Aleck up at the bow singing that +hideous and melancholy song of his, and the Sea Pyot slowly creeping +along by the black islands?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer at all; but for a brief moment her lip trembled. Amid +all this merriment she had sat with a troubled face, and with a sore and +heavy heart. She had seen in it but a pathetic bravado. He would drink +Scotch whiskey—he would once more light a cigarette—merely to assure +her that he was getting thoroughly well again; his laughter, his jokes, +his wild sallies were all meant, and she knew it, to give her strength +of heart and cheerfulness. She sat and listened, with her eyes cast +down. When she heard him talk lightly and playfully of all that he meant +to do, her heart throbbed, and she dared not lift her eyes to his face, +lest they should suddenly reveal to him that awful conflict within of +wild, and piteous, and agonizing doubt.</p> + +<p>Then that reference to their wanderings in the northern seas—he did not +know how she trembled as he spoke. She could never even think of that +strange time she had spent up there, and of the terrible things that had +come of it, without a shudder. If she could have cut it out of her life +and memory altogether, that would have been well; but how could she +forget the agony of that awful farewell; the sense of utter loneliness +with which she saw the shores recede; the conviction then borne in upon +her—and never wholly eradicated from her mind—that some mysterious +doom had overtaken her, from which there was no escape. The influence of +that time, and of the time that succeeded it, still dwelt upon her, and +overshadowed her with its gloom. She had almost lost the instinct of +hope. She never doubted, when they carried young Dowse into that silent +room, but that he would die: was it not her province to bring misery to +all who were associated with her? And she had got so reconciled to this +notion that she did not argue the matter with herself; she had, for +example, no sense of bitter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>ness in contrasting this apparent "destiny" +of hers with the most deeply-rooted feeling in her heart; namely, a +perfectly honest readiness to give up her own life if only that could +secure the happiness of those she loved. She did not even feel injured +because this was impossible. Things were so; and she accepted them.</p> + +<p>But sometimes, in the darkness of her room, in the silence of the +night-time, when her heart seemed to be literally breaking with its +conflict of anxious love and returning despair, some wild notion of +propitiation—doubtless derived from ancient legends—would flash across +her mind; and she would cry in her agony, "If one must be taken, let it +be me! The world cares for him. What am I?" If she could only go out +into the open place of the city, and bare her bosom to the knife of the +priest, and call on the people to see how she had saved the life of her +beloved—surely that would be to die happy. What she had done, now that +she came to look back over it, seemed but too poor an expression of her +great love and admiration. What mattered it that a girl should give up +her friends and her home? Her life—her very life—that was what she +desired, when these wild fancies possessed her, to surrender freely, if +only she could know that she was rescuing him from the awful portals +that her despairing dread saw open before him, and was giving him +back—as she bade him a last farewell—to health, and joy, and the +comfort of many friends.</p> + +<p>With other wrestlings in spirit, far more eager and real than these mere +fancies derived from myths, it is not within the province of the present +writer to deal; they are not for the house-tops or the market-places. +But it may be said that in all directions the gloomy influences of that +past time pursued her; wherever she went she was haunted by a morbid +fear that all her resolute will could not shake off. Where, for example, +could she go for sweeter consolation, for more cheering solace than to +the simple and reassuring services of the church? But before she +entered, eager to hear words of hope and strengthening, there was the +graveyard to pass through, with the misery of generations recorded on +its melancholy stones.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV.</h3> + +<h4>"OH, GENTLE WIND THAT BLOWETH SOUTH."</h4> + + +<p>But if this girl, partly through her great yearning love, and partly +through the overshadowing of her past sufferings, was haunted by a +mysterious dread, that was not the prevailing feeling within this small +household which was now pulling itself together for a flight to the +south. Even she caught something of the brisk and cheerful spirit +awakened by all the bustle of departure; and when her father, who had +come to London Bridge station to see the whole of them off, noticed the +businesslike fashion in which she ordered everybody about, so that the +invalid should have his smallest comforts attended to, he could not help +saying, with a laugh—</p> + +<p>"Well, Violet, this is better than starting for America all by yourself, +isn't it? But I don't think you would have been much put out by that +either."</p> + +<p>A smart young man came up, and was for entering the carriage.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said she, respectfully but firmly. "This carriage +is reserved."</p> + +<p>The young man looked at both windows.</p> + +<p>"I don't see that it is," he retorted coolly.</p> + +<p>He took hold of the handle of the door, when she immediately rose and +stood before him, an awful politeness and decorum on her face, but the +fire of Brünhilde the warrior maiden in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You will please call the guard before coming in here. The carriage is +reserved."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>At this moment her father came forward—not a little inclined to laugh.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir, but the carriage is really reserved. There was +a written paper put up—it has fallen down, I suppose—there it is."</p> + +<p>So the smart young man went away; but was it fair, after this notable +victory, that they should all begin to make fun of her fierce and +majestic bearing, and that the very person for whose sake she had +confronted the enemy should begin to make ridiculous rhymes about her, +such as these:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then out spake Violet Northimus—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of Euston Square was she—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">'Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And guard the door with thee!'"</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Violet Northimus did not reply. She wore the modesty of a victor. She +was ready at any moment to meet six hundred such as he; and she was not +to be put out, after the discomfiture of her enemy, by a joke.</p> + +<p>Then they slowly rolled and grated out of the station, and by-and-by the +swinging pace increased, and they were out in the clearer light and the +fresher air, with a windy April sky showing flashes of blue from time to +time. They went down through a succession of thoroughly English looking +landscapes—quiet valleys with red-tiled cottages in them, bare heights +green with the young corn, long stretches of brown and almost leafless +woods, with the rough banks outside all starred with the pale, clear +primrose. There was one in that carriage who had had no lack of flowers +that spring—flowers brought by many a kindly hand to brighten the look +of the sick room; but surely it was something more wonderful to see the +flowers themselves, growing here in this actual and outside world which +had been to him for many a weary week but a dimly imagined dreamland. +There were primroses under the hedges, primroses along the high banks, +primroses shining pale and clear within the leafless woods, among the +russet leaves of the previous autumn. And then the life and motion of +the sky, the southwesterly winds, the black and lowering clouds +suddenly followed by a wild and dazzling gleam of sunlight, the grays +and purples flying on and leaving behind them a welcome expanse of +shining April blue.</p> + +<p>The day was certainly squally enough, and might turn to showers; but the +gusts of wind that blew through the carriage were singularly sweet and +mild; and again and again Mr. Drummond, who had been raised by all this +new life and light into the very highest spirits, declared with much +solemnity that he could already detect the smell of the salt sea air. +They had their quarrels of course. It pleased a certain young lady to +treat the south coast of England with much supercilious contempt. You +would have imagined from her talk that there was something criminal in +one's living even within twenty miles of the bleak downs, the shabby +precipices, and the muddy sea which, according to her, were the only +recognizable features of our southern shores. She would not admit indeed +that there was any sea at all there; there was only churned chalk. Was +it fair to say, even under the exasperation of continual goading, that +the Isle of Wight was only a trumpery toy shop; that its "scenery" was +fitly adorned with bazaars for the sale of sham jewelry; that its +amusements were on a par with those of Rosherville gardens; that its +rocks were made of mud and its sea of powdered lime?</p> + +<p>"By heavens," exclaimed her antagonist, "I will stand this no longer. I +will call upon Neptune to raise such a storm in the Solent as shall +convince you that there is quite enough sea surrounding that pearl of +islands, that paradise, that world's wonder we are going to visit."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have no doubt," said she with sweet sarcasm, "that if you +stirred the Solent with a teaspoon, you would frighten the yachtsmen +there out of their wits."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Violet," cried another young lady, "you know you were dreadfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +frightened that night in Tobermory bay, when the equinoctial gales +caught us, and the men were tramping overhead all night long."</p> + +<p>"I should be more frightened down here," was the retort, "because if we +were driven ashore I should be choked first and drowned afterward. Fancy +going out of the world with a taste of chalk in your mouth."</p> + +<p>"Well, at this moment the fierce discussion was stopped by the arrival +of the train at Portsmouth; but here a very singular incident occurred. +Violet was the first to step out on to the platform.</p> + +<p>"You have a tramway car that goes down to the pier, have you not?" she +asked of the guard.</p> + +<p>"Ain't going to-day, miss," was the answer. "Boats can't come in to +Southsea—the sea is very high. You'll have to go to Portsea, miss."</p> + +<p>Now, what was this man's amazement on seeing this young lady suddenly +burst out laughing as she turned and looked into the carriage.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear that?" she cried. "The Solent is raging! They can't come +near Southsea! Don't you think, Mrs. Warrener, that it will be very +dangerous to go to Portsea?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what it is," said Mrs. Warrener with a malicious smile, +"if a certain young lady I know were to be ill in crossing, she would be +a good deal more civil to her native country when she reached the other +side."</p> + +<p>But in good truth, when they got down to Portsea there was a pretty +stiff breeze blowing; and the walk out on the long pier was not a little +trying to an invalid who had but lately recovered the use of his limbs. +The small steamer, too, was tossing about considerably at her moorings; +and Violet pretended to be greatly alarmed because she did not see +half-a-dozen lifeboats on board. Then the word was given; the cables +thrown off; and presently the tiny steamer was running out to the windy +and gray-green sea, the waves of which not unfrequently sent a shower of +spray across her decks. The small party of voyagers crouched behind the +funnel, and were well out of the water's way.</p> + +<p>"Look there now," cried Mr. Drummond, suddenly pointing to a large bird +that was flying by, high up in the air, about a quarter of a mile +off—"do you see that? Do you know what that is? That is a wild goose, a +gray lag, that has been driven in by bad weather; <i>now</i> can you say we +have no waves, and winds, and sea in the south?"</p> + +<p>Miss Violet was not daunted.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is a goose," she said coolly. "I never saw but one flying—- +you remember you shot it. What farm-yard has this one left?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for shame, Violet," Mrs. Warrener called out, "to rake up old +stories!"</p> + +<p>She was punished for it. The insulted sportsman was casting about for +the cruelest retort he could think of, when, as it happened, Miss Violet +bethought her of looking round the corner of the boiler to see whether +they were getting near Ryde; and at the same moment it also happened +that a heavy wave, striking the bows of the steamer, sent a heap of +water whirling down between the paddle-box and the funnel, which caught +the young lady on the face with a crack like a whip. As to the shout of +laughter which then greeted her, that small party of folks had heard +nothing like it for many a day. There was salt water dripping from her +hair; salt water in her eyes; salt water running down her tingling and +laughing cheeks; and she richly deserved to be asked, as she was +immediately asked, whether the Solent was compounded of water and marl +or water and chalk, and which brand she preferred.</p> + +<p>Was it the balmy southern air that tempered the vehemence of these +wanderers as they made their way across the island, and getting into a +carriage at Ventnor, proceeded to drive along the Undercliff? There was +a great quiet prevailing along these southern shores. They drove by +underneath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> the tall and crumbling precipices, with wood pigeons +suddenly shooting out from the clefts, and jackdaws wheeling about far +up in the blue. They passed by sheltered woods, bestarred with anemones +and primroses, and showing here and there the purple of the as yet +half-opened hyacinth; they passed by lush meadows, all ablaze with the +golden yellow of the celandine and the purple of the ground ivy; they +passed by the broken, picturesque banks where the tender blue of the +speedwell was visible from time to time, with the white glimmer of the +starwort. And then all this time they had on their left a gleaming and +wind-driven sea, full of motion, and light, and color, and showing the +hurrying shadows of the flying clouds.</p> + +<p>At last far away, secluded and quiet, they came to a quaint little inn, +placed high over the sea, and surrounded by sheltering woods and hedges. +The sun lay warm on the smooth green lawn in front, where the daisies +grew. There were dark shadows—almost black shadows—along the +encircling hedge and under the cedars; but these only showed the more +brilliantly the silver lighting of the restless, whirling, wind-swept +sea beyond. It was a picturesque little house, with its long veranda +half-smothered in ivy and rose bushes now in bud; with its tangled +garden about, green with young hawthorn and sweetened by the perfume of +the lilacs; with its patches of uncut grass, where the yellow cowslips +drooped. There was an air of dreamy repose about the place; even that +whirling and silvery gray sea produced no sound; here the winds were +stilled, and the black shadows of the trees on that smooth green lawn +only moved with the imperceptible moving of the sun.</p> + +<p>Violet went up stairs and into her room alone; she threw open the small +casements, and stood there looking out with a somewhat vague and distant +look. There was no mischief now in those dark and tender eyes; there was +rather an anxious and wistful questioning. And her heart seemed to go +out from her to implore these gentle winds, and the soft colors of the +sea, and the dreamy stillness of the woods, that now they should, if +ever that was possible to them, bring all their sweet and curative +influences to bear on him who had come among them. Now, if ever! Surely +the favorable skies would heed, and the secret healing of the woods +would hear, and the bountiful life-giving sea winds would bestir to her +prayer! Surely it was not too late!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI.</h3> + +<h4>HOPE'S WINGS.</h4> + + +<p>The long journey had taxed his returning strength to the utmost, and for +the remainder of that day he looked worn and fatigued; but on the next +morning he was in the best of spirits, and nothing would do but that +they should at once set out on their explorations.</p> + +<p>"Why not rest here?" said Violet. They were sitting in the shade of +their morning room, the French windows wide open, the pillars and roof +of the veranda outside framing in a picture of glowing sunlight and +green vegetation, with glimpses of the silvery, white sea beyond. "Why +not rest here?" she said; "what is the use of driving about to see bare +downs, and little holes in the mud that they call chasms, and waterfalls +that are turned on from the kitchen of the hotel above? That is what +they consider scenery in the Isle of Wight; and then, before you can see +it, you must buy a glass brooch or a china doll."</p> + +<p>The fact is, he did not himself particularly care about these +excursions, but he was afraid of the place becoming tiresome and +monotonous to one whom he would insist on regarding as a visitor. She on +the other hand affected a profound contempt for the sufficiently +pleasant places about the Isle of Wight for the very purpose of inducing +him to rest in the still seclu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>sion of this retreat they had chosen. But +here was the carriage at the door.</p> + +<p>"Violet," said Amy Warrener, as they were leisurely driving along the +quiet ways, under the crumbling gray cliffs, where the jackdaws were +flying, "where shall we go for a climb? Don't you think we might come +upon another Mount Glorioso?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the girl rather absently; "I don't think we shall see another +Mount Glorioso soon again."</p> + +<p>"Not this autumn?" cried Mr. Drummond cheerfully; "not this summer?—for +why should we wait for the autumn! Violet, I have the most serious +projects with regard to the whole of us. It is high time that I set +about recognizing the ends of existence; that is to say, before I die I +must have a house in Bayswater and two thousand a year. All nice novels +end that way. Now, in order that we shall all reach this earthly +paradise, what is to be done? I have two projects. A publisher—the +first wise man of his race—I will write an epitaph for him quite +different from my universal epitaph—this shrewd and crafty person, +determined to rescue at least one mute, inglorious Milton from neglect, +has written to me. There! He has read my article on 'The Astronomical +Theory with regard to the Early Religions'; he has perceived the +profound wisdom, the research, the illuminating genius of that work—by +the way, I don't think I ever fully explained to you my notions on that +subject?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, please don't," said Violet meekly. "What does the publisher +say?"</p> + +<p>"Do you see the mean, practical, commercial spirit of these women?" he +said, apparently addressing himself. "It is only the money they think +of. They don't want to be instructed!"</p> + +<p>"I know the article well enough," said Violet blushing hotly. "I read +it—I—I saw it advertised, and bought the review, when I hadn't much +money to spend on such things."</p> + +<p>"Did you, Violet?" said he, forgetting for a moment his nonsense. Then +he continued: "The publisher thinks that with some padding of a general +and attractive nature, the subject might be made into a book. Why, +therefore, should not our fortune be made at once, and the gates of +Bayswater thrown open to the Peri? I do believe I could make an +interesting book. I will throw in a lot of Irish anecdotes. I wonder if +I could have it illustrated with pictures of 'Charles I. in Prison,' the +'Dying Infant,' 'The Sailor's Adieu,' and some such popular things!"</p> + +<p>"I think," said Violet humbly, "we might go on to the other project."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said he thoughtfully, "that requires time and silence first. I +must have the inspiration of the mountains before I can resolve it. Do +you know what it is?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet."</p> + +<p>"It is the utilizing of a great natural force. That is what all science +is trying to do now; and here is one of the mightiest forces in nature +of which nothing is made, unless it be that a few barges get floated up +and down our rivers. Do you see? The great mass of tidal force, +absolutely irresistible in its strength, punctual as the clock itself, +always to be calculated on—why should this great natural engine remain +unused?"</p> + +<p>"But then, uncle," said a certain young lady, "if you made the tide +drive machinery at one time of the day, you would have to turn the house +round to let it drive it again as it was going back."</p> + +<p>"Child, child!" said the inventor peevishly, "why do you tack on these +petty details to my grand conception? It is the idea I want to sell; +other people can use it. Now, will the government grant me a patent?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Violet.</p> + +<p>"What royalty on all work executed by utilizing the tidal currents?"</p> + +<p>"A million per cent."</p> + +<p>"How much will that bring in?"</p> + +<p>"Three millions a minute!"</p> + +<p>"Ah," said he, sinking back with a sigh, "we have then reached the goal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +at last. Bayswater, we approach you. Shall the brougham be bottle-green +or coffee-colored?"</p> + +<p>"A brougham!" cried Violet; "no—a barge of white and gold, with crimson +satin sails, and oars of bronze, towed by a company of snow-white +swans——"</p> + +<p>"Or mergansers"——</p> + +<p>"And floating through the canals of claret which we shall set flowing in +the streets. Then the Lord Mayor and the corporation will come to meet +you, and you will get the freedom of the city presented in a gold +snuff-box. As for Buckingham Palace—well, a baronetcy would be a nice +thing."</p> + +<p>"A baronetcy! Three millions a year and only a baronet! By the monuments +of Westminster Abbey, I will become a duke and an archbishop rolled into +one, and have the right of sending fifteen people a day to be beheaded +at the tower."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not that, uncle!"</p> + +<p>"And why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because there wouldn't be any publishers at the end of the year."</p> + +<p>"And here we are at Black Gang Chine!"</p> + +<p>Violet would not go down. She positively refused to go down. She called +the place Black Gang Sham, and hoped they were pouring enough water down +the kitchen pipe of the hotel to make a foaming cataract. But she begged +Mrs. Warrener and Amy, who had not seen the place, to go down, while she +remained in the carriage with Mr. Drummond. So these two disappeared +into the bazaar.</p> + +<p>"You are not really going to Scotland, are you?" she said simply, her +head cast down.</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking of it," he answered. "Why not?"</p> + +<p>"The air here is very sweet and soft," she said in a hesitating way. "Of +course, I know, the climate on the west coast of Scotland is very mild, +and you would get the mountain air as well as the sea air. But don't you +think the storms, the gales that blow in the spring——"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he cheerfully, "I shall never be pulled together till I get +up to the north—I know that. I may have to remain here till I get +stronger, but by-and-by I hope we shall all go up to Scotland together, +and that long before the shooting begins."</p> + +<p>"I—I am afraid," said she, "that I shall not be of the party."</p> + +<p>"You? Not you?" he cried. "You are not going to leave us, Violet, just +after we have found you?"</p> + +<p>He took her hand, but she still averted her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I half promised," she said, "to spend some time with Mr. and Mrs. +Dowse. They are very lonely. They think they have a claim on me, and +they have been very kind."</p> + +<p>"You are not going to Mr. and Mrs. Dowse, Violet," said he promptly. "I +pity the poor people, but we have a prior claim on you, and we mean to +insist on it. What, just after all this grief of separation, you would +go away from us again? No, no! I tell you, Violet, we shall never find +you your real self until you have been braced up by the sea breezes. I +mean the real sea breezes. You want a scamper among the heather—I can +see that; for I have been watching you of late, and you are not up to +the right mark. The sooner we all go the better. Do you understand +that?"</p> + +<p>He had been talking lightly and cheerfully, not caring who overheard. +She, on the other hand, was anxious and embarrassed, not daring to utter +what was on her mind. At last she said:</p> + +<p>"Will you get down for a minute or two, and walk along the road? It is +very sheltered here, and the sun is warm."</p> + +<p>He did so, and she took his arm, and they walked away apart in the +sunlight and silence. When they had gone some distance she stopped and +said in a low and earnest voice:</p> + +<p>"Don't you know why I cannot go to the Highlands with you? It would kill +me. How could I go back to all those places?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I understand that well enough, Violet," said he gently, "but don't you +think you ought to go for the very purpose of conquering that feeling? +There is nothing in that part of the country to inspire you with dread. +You would see it all again in its accustomed light."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said he, for he was determined not to let these +gloomy impressions of the girl overcome him. "If not there, somewhere +else. We are not tied to Castle Bandbox. There is plenty of space about +the West Highlands or about the Central Highlands, for the matter of +that. Shall we try to get some lodging in an inn or farmhouse about the +Moor of Rannoch? Or will you try the islands—Jura, or Islay, or Mull?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer. She seemed to be in a dream.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you, Violet," he continued, gravely and gently, "why I +want you to come with us? I am anxious that you and I should be together +as long—as long as that is possible. One never knows what may happen, +and lately—well, we need not speak of it; but I don't wish us to be +parted, Violet."</p> + +<p>She burst into a violent fit of crying and sobbing. She had been +struggling bravely to repress this gathering emotion; but his direct +reference to the very thought that was overshadowing her mind was too +much for her. And along with this wild grief came as keen remorse, for +was this the conduct required of an attendant upon an invalid?</p> + +<p>"You must forgive me," she sobbed. "I don't know what it is—I have been +very nervous of late—and—and——-"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to cry about, Violet," said he gently. "What is to be, +is to be. You have not lost your old courage! Only let us be together +while we can."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my love, my love!" she suddenly cried, taking his hand in both of +hers, and looking up to him with her piteous, tear-dimmed eyes; "we will +always be together! What is it that you say?—what is it that you mean? +Not that you are going away without me? I have courage for anything but +that. It does not matter what comes, only that I must go with you—we +two together!"</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, Violet," said he soothingly, for he saw that the girl was +really beside herself with grief and apprehension. "Come, this is not +like the brave Violet of old. I thought there was nothing in all the +world you were afraid to face. Look up, now."</p> + +<p>She released his hand, and a strange expression came over her face. That +wild outburst had been an involuntary confession; now a great fear and +shame filled her heart that she should have been betrayed into it, and +in a despairing, pathetic fashion she tried to explain away her words.</p> + +<p>"We shall be together, shall we not?" she said, with an affected +cheerfulness, though she was still crying gently. "It does not matter +what part of the Highlands you go to—I will go with you. I must write +and explain to Mrs. Dowse. It would be a pity that we should separate so +soon, after that long time, would it not? And then the brisk air of the +hills, and of the yachting, will be better for you than the hot summer +here, won't it? And I am sure you will get very well there; that is just +the place for you to get strong; and when the time for the shooting +comes, we shall all go out, as we used to do, to see you missing every +bird that gets up."</p> + +<p>She tried to smile, but did not succeed very well.</p> + +<p>"And really it does not matter to me so very much what part we go to, +for, as you say, one ought to conquer these feelings, and if you prefer +Castle Bandbox, I will go there too—that is, I shall be very proud to +go if I am not in the way. And you know I am the only one who can make +cartridges for you."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I shall trouble the cartridges very much," said he, glad +to think she was becoming more cheerful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Indeed," she continued, "I don't know what would have become of your +gun if I had not looked after it, for you only half cleaned it, and old +Peter would not touch it, and the way the sea air rusted the barrels was +quite remarkable. Will you have No. 3 or No. 4 shot this year for the +sea birds?"</p> + +<p>"Well," he answered gravely, "you see we shall have no yacht this year, +and probably no chances of wild duck at all; and it would scarcely be +worth while to make cartridges merely to fire away at these harmless and +useless sea pyots and things of that sort."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but my papa could easily get us a yacht," she said promptly; "he +would be delighted—I know he would be delighted. And I have been told +you can get a small yacht for about £40 a month, crew and everything +included, and what is that? Indeed, I think it is quite necessary you +should have a yacht."</p> + +<p>"Forty pounds," said he. "I think we could manage that. But then we +should deduct something from the wages of the crew on the strength of +our taking our own cook with us. Do you remember that cook? She had a +wonderful trick of making apricot jam puddings; how the dickens she +managed to get so much jam crammed in I never could make out. She was +just about as good at that as at making cartridges. Did you ever hear of +that cook?"</p> + +<p>By this time they had walked gently back to the carriage, and now Mrs. +Warrener and her daughter made their appearance. The elder woman noticed +something strange about Violet's expression, but she did not speak of +it, for surely the girl was happy enough? She was, indeed, quite merry. +She told Mrs. Warrener she was ready to go with them to the Highlands +whenever they chose. She proposed that this time they should go up the +Caledonian canal, and go down by Loch Maree, and then go out and visit +the western isles. She said the sooner they went the better; they would +get all the beautiful summer of the north; it was only the autumn +tourists who complained of the rain of the Highlands.</p> + +<p>"But we had little rain last autumn," said Mrs. Warrener.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very little indeed," said Violet, quite brightly; "we had charming +weather all through. I never enjoyed myself anywhere so much. I think +the sooner your brother gets up to the Highlands, the better it will do +him a world of good."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII.</h3> + +<h4>DU SCHMERZENSREICHE!</h4> + + +<p>So the long, silent, sunlit days passed, and it seemed to the three +patient watchers that the object of their care was slowly recovering +health and strength. But if they were all willing and eager to wait on +him, it was Violet who was his constant companion and friend, his +devoted attendant, his humble scholar. Sometimes when Mrs. Warrener's +heart grew sore within her to think of the wrong that had been wrought +in the past, the tender little woman tried to solace herself somewhat by +regarding these two as they now sat together—he the whimsical, +affectionate master, she the meek pupil and disciple, forgetting all the +proud dignity of her maidenhood, her fire, and audacity, and +independence, in the humility and self-surrender of her love. Surely, +she thought, this time was making up for much of the past. And if all +went well now, what had they to look forward to but a still closer +companionship in which the proud, and loyal, and fearless girl would +become the tender and obedient wife? There was no jealousy in the nature +of this woman. She would have laughed with joy if she could have heard +their marriage bells.</p> + +<p>And Violet, too, when the sun lay warm on the daisies and cowslips, when +the sweet winds blew the scent of the lilacs about, and when her master +and teacher grew strong enough to walk with her along the quiet woodland +ways—how could she fail to pick up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> some measure of cheerfulness and +hope? It almost seemed as if she had dropped into a new world; and it +was a beautiful world, full of tenderness, and laughter, and sunshine. +Henceforth there was to be no more George Miller to bother her; he had +gone clean out of existence as far as she was concerned; there was no +more skirmishing with Lady North; even the poor Dowses, with their +piteous loneliness and solemn house, were almost forgotten. Here was her +whole world. And when she noticed the increasing distances that he +walked, and the brighter look of his face, and the growing courage and +carelessness of his habits—then indeed the world became a beautiful +world to her, and she was almost inclined to fall in love with those +whirling and gleaming southern seas.</p> + +<p>It was in the black night-time, when all the household but herself were +asleep, that she paid the penalty of these transient joys. Haunted by +the one terrible fear, she could gain no rest; it was in vain that she +tried to reason with herself; her imagination was like some hideous +fiend continually whispering to her ear. Then she had no friend with +whom to share those terrible doubts; she dared not mention them to any +human soul. Why should she disturb the gentle confidence of his sister +and her daughter? She could not make them miserable merely to lift from +her own mind a portion of its anxiety. She could only lie awake, night +after night, and rack her brain with a thousand gloomy forebodings. She +recalled certain phrases he had used in moments of pathetic confidence. +She recalled the quick look of pain with which he sometimes paused in +the middle of his speech, the almost involuntary raising the hand to the +region of the heart, the passing pallor of the face. Had they seen none +of those things? Had they no wild, despairing thoughts about him? Was it +possible they could go peacefully to sleep with this dread thing hanging +over them, with a chance of awaking to a day of bitter anguish and +wild, heart-broken farewell? This cruel anxiety, kept all to herself, +was killing the girl. She grew restless and feverish; sometimes she sat +up half the night at the window listening to the moaning of the dark sea +outside; she became languid during the day, pale, and distraite. But it +was not to last long.</p> + +<p>One evening these two were together in the small parlor, he lying down, +she sitting near him with a book in her hand. The French windows were +open; they could hear Mrs. Warrener and her daughter talking in the +garden. And, strangely enough, the sick man's thoughts were once more +turned to the far Highlands, and to their life among the hills, and the +pleasant merry-making on board the Sea Pyot.</p> + +<p>"The air of this place does not agree with you at all, Violet," he was +saying. "You are not looking nearly so well as you did when we came +down. You are the only one who has not benefited by the change. Now that +won't do; we cannot have a succession of invalids—a Greek frieze of +patients, all carrying phials of medicine. We must get off to the +Highlands at once. What do you say—a fortnight hence?"</p> + +<p>She knelt down beside him, and took his hand, and said in a low voice—</p> + +<p>"Do not be angry with me—it is very unreasonable, I know—but I have a +strange dread of the Highlands. I have dreamed so often lately of being +up there—and of being swept away on a dark sea—in the middle of the +night."</p> + +<p>She shuddered. He put his hand gently on her head.</p> + +<p>"There is no wonder you should dream of that," he said with a smile. +"That is only part of the story which you made us all believe. But we +have got a brighter finish for it now. You have not been overwhelmed in +that dark flood yet——"</p> + +<p>He paused.</p> + +<p>"Violet! My love!" he suddenly cried.</p> + +<p>He let go her hand, and made a wild grasp at his left breast; his face +grew white with pain. What made her in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>stinctively throw her arms round +him, with terror in her eyes?</p> + +<p>"Violet! What is this? Kiss me!"</p> + +<p>It was but one second after that that a piercing shriek rang through the +place. The girl had sprung up like a deer shot through the heart; her +eyes dilated, her face wild and pale. Mrs. Warrener came running in; but +paused, and almost retreated in fear from the awful spectacle before +her; for the girl still held the dead man's hand, and she was laughing +merrily. The dark sea she had dreaded had overtaken her at last.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>But one more scene—months afterward. It is the breakfast room in Lady +North's house in Euston Square; and Anatolia is sitting there alone. The +door opens, and a tall young girl, dressed in a white morning costume, +comes silently in; there is a strange and piteous look of trouble in her +dark eyes. Anatolia goes over to her, and takes her hand very tenderly, +and leads her to the easy-chair she had herself just quitted.</p> + +<p>"There is not any letter yet?" she asks, having looked all round the +table with a sad and wearied air.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, not yet," says Anatolia, who, unlovely though she may be, has +a sympathetic heart; and her lip trembles as she speaks. "You must be +patient, Violet."</p> + +<p>"It is another morning gone, and there is no letter, and I cannot +understand it," says the girl, apparently to herself, and then she +begins to cry silently, while her half-sister goes to her, and puts her +arm around her neck, and tries to soothe her.</p> + +<p>Lady North comes into the room. Some changes have happened within these +few months; it is "Mother" and "My child" now between the enemies of +yore. And as she bids Violet good morning, and gently kisses her, the +girl renews her complaint.</p> + +<p>"Mother, why do they keep back his letter? I know he must have written +to me long ago; and I cannot go to him until I get the letter! and he +will wonder why I am not coming. Morning after morning I listen for the +postman—I can hear him in the street from house to house—and they all +get their letters, but I don't get this one that is worth all the world +to me. And I never neglected anything that he said; and I was always +very obedient to him; and he will wonder now that I don't go to him, and +perhaps he will think that I am among my other friends now and have +forgotten—— No, he will not think that. I have not forgotten."</p> + +<p>"My child, you must not vex yourself," says Lady North with all the +tenderness of which she is capable—and Anatolia is bitterly crying all +the while. "It will be all right. And you must not look sad to-day; for +you know Mrs. Warrener and your friend Amy are coming to see you."</p> + +<p>She does not seem to pay much heed.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go for the flowers to-day?" she asks, with her dark wet eyes +raised for the first time.</p> + +<p>"My darling, this is not the day we go for the flowers; that is +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And what is the use of it?" she says, letting her head sink sadly +again. "Every time I go over to Nunhead I listen all by myself—and I +know he is not there at all. The flowers look pretty, because his name +is over them. But he is not there at all—he is far away—and he was to +send me a message—and every day I wait for it—and they keep the letter +back. Mother, are all my dresses ready?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Violet."</p> + +<p>"You are quite sure!"</p> + +<p>"They are all ready, Violet. Don't trouble about that."</p> + +<p>"It is the white satin one he will like the best; and he will be pleased +that I am not in black like the others. Mother, Mrs. Warrener and Amy +surely cannot mean to come to the wedding in black."</p> + +<p>"Surely not, Violet. But come, dear, to your breakfast."</p> + +<p>She took her place quite calmly and humbly; but her mind was still +wandering toward that picture.</p> + +<p>"I hope they will strew the church-yard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> with flowers as we pass through +it—not for me, but for him; for he will be pleased with that; and there +is more than all that is in the Prayer-book that I will promise to be to +him, when we two are kneeling together. You are quite sure everything is +ready?"</p> + +<p>"Everything, my darling."</p> + +<p>"And you think the message from him will come soon now?"</p> + +<p>"I think it will come soon now, Violet," was the answer, given with +trembling lips.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The End.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>And now to you—you whose names are written in these blurred pages, some +portion of whose lives I have tried to trace with a wandering and +uncertain pen—I stretch out a hand of farewell. Yet not quite of +farewell, perhaps: for amid all the shapes and phantoms of this world of +mystery, where the shadows we meet can tell us neither whence they came +nor whither they go, surely you have for me a no less substantial +existence that may have its chances in the time to come. To me you are +more real than most I know: what wonder then if I were to meet you on +the threshold of the great unknown, you all shining with a new light on +your face? Trembling, I stretch out my hands to you, for your silence is +awful, and there is sadness in your eyes; but the day may come when you +will speak, and I shall hear—and understand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="JULIET_ON_THE_BALCONY" id="JULIET_ON_THE_BALCONY"></a>JULIET ON THE BALCONY.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O lips that are so lonely</span><br /> +<span class="i2">For want of his caress;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">O heart that art too faithful</span><br /> +<span class="i2">To ever love him less;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">O eyes that find no sweetness</span><br /> +<span class="i2">For hunger of his face;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">O hands that long to feel him,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Always, in every place!</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My spirit leans and listens,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">But only hears his name,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And thought to thought leaps onward</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As flame leaps unto flame;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And all kin to each other</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As any brood of flowers,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or these sweet winds of night, love,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That fan the fainting hours!</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My spirit leans and listens,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">My heart stands up and cries,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And only one sweet vision</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Comes ever to my eyes.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">So near and yet so far, love,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">So dear, yet out of reach,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">So like some distant star, love,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Unnamed in human speech!</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My spirit leans and listens,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">My heart goes out to him,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Through all the long night watches,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Until the dawning dim;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">My spirit leans and listens,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">What if, across the night,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">His strong heart send a message</span><br /> +<span class="i2">To flood me with delight?</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Howard Glyndon.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="OUR_RURAL_DIVINITY" id="OUR_RURAL_DIVINITY"></a>OUR RURAL DIVINITY.</h2> + + +<p>I wonder that Wilson Flagg did not include the cow among his +"Picturesque Animals," for that is where she belongs. She has not the +classic beauty of the horse, but in picture-making qualities she is far +ahead of him. Her shaggy, loose-jointed body, her irregular, sketchy +outlines, like those of the landscape—the hollows and ridges, the +slopes and prominences—her tossing horns, her bushy tail, her swinging +gait, her tranquil, ruminating habits—all tend to make her an object +upon which the artist eye loves to dwell. The artists are for ever +putting her into pictures too. In rural landscape scenes she is an +important feature. Behold her grazing in the pastures and on the hill +sides, or along banks of streams, or ruminating under wide-spreading +trees, or standing belly deep in the creek or pond, or lying upon the +smooth places in the quiet summer afternoon, the day's grazing done, and +waiting to be summoned home to be milked; and again in the twilight +lying upon the level summit of the hill, or where the sward is thickest +and softest; or in winter a herd of them filing along toward the spring +to drink, or being "foddered" from the stack in the field upon the new +snow—surely the cow is a picturesque animal, and all her goings and +comings are pleasant to behold.</p> + +<p>I looked into Hamerton's clever book on the domestic animals, also +expecting to find my divinity duly celebrated, but he passes her by and +contemplates the bovine qualities only as they appear in the ox and the +bull.</p> + +<p>Neither have the poets made much of the cow, but have rather dwelt upon +the steer, or the ox yoked to the plough. I recall this touch from +Emerson:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The heifer that lows in the upland farm,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Far heard, lows not thine ear to charm.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>But the ear is charmed nevertheless, especially if it be not too near, +and the air be still and dense, or hollow, as the farmer says. And +again, if it be spring time and she task that powerful bellows of hers +to its utmost capacity, how round the sound is, and how far it goes over +the hills.</p> + +<p>The cow has at least four tones or lows. First, there is her alarmed or +distressed low, when deprived of her calf, or separated from her +mates—her low of affection. Then there is her call of hunger, a +petition for food, sometimes full of impatience, or her answer to the +farmer's call, full of eagerness. Then there is that peculiar frenzied +bawl she utters on smelling blood, which causes every member of the herd +to lift its head and hasten to the spot—the native cry of the clan. +When she is gored or in great danger she bawls also, but that is +different. And lastly, there is the long, sonorous volley she lets off +on the hills or in the yard, or along the highway, and which seems to be +expressive of a kind of unrest and vague longing—the longing of the +imprisoned Io for her lost identity. She sends her voice forth so that +every god on Mount Olympus can hear her plaint. She makes this sound in +the morning, especially in the spring, as she goes forth to graze.</p> + +<p>One of our rural poets, Myron Benton, whose verse often has the flavor +of sweet cream, has written some lines called "Rumination," in which the +cow is the principal figure, and with which I am permitted to adorn my +theme. The poet first gives his attention to a little brook that "breaks +its shallow gossip" at his feet and "drowns the oriole's voice":</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But moveth not that wise and ancient cow,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Who chews her juicy cud so languid now</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Beneath her favorite elm, whose drooping bough</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Lulls all but inward vision, fast asleep:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">But still, her tireless tail a pendulum sweep</span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Mysterious clockwork guides, and some hid pulley</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Her drowsy cud, each moment, raises duly.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of this great, wondrous world she has seen more</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Than you, my little brook, and cropped its store</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of succulent grass on many a mead and lawn;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And strayed to distant uplands in the dawn.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And she has had some dark experience</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of graceless man's ingratitude; and hence</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Her ways have not been ways of pleasantness,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Nor all her paths of peace. But her distress</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And grief she has lived past; your giddy round</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Disturbs her not, for she is learned profound</span><br /> +<span class="i0">In deep brahminical philosophy.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">She chews the cud of sweetest revery</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Above your worldly prattle, brooklet merry,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Oblivious of all things sublunary.</span><br /> +</div></div> + + +<p>The cow figures in Grecian mythology, and in the Oriental literature is +treated as a sacred animal. "The clouds are cows and the rain milk." I +remember what Herodotus says of the Egyptians' worship of heifers and +steers; and in the traditions of the Celtic nations the cow is regarded +as a divinity. In Norse mythology the milk of the cow Andhumbla afforded +nourishment to the Frost giants, and it was she that licked into being +and into shape a god, the father of Odin. If anything could lick a god +into shape, certainly the cow could do it. You may see her perform this +office for young Taurus any spring. She licks him out of the fogs and +bewilderments and uncertainties in which he finds himself on first +landing upon these shores, and up on to his feet in an incredibly short +time. Indeed, that potent tongue of hers can almost make the dead alive +any day, and the creative lick of the old Scandinavian mother cow is +only a large-lettered rendering of the commonest facts.</p> + +<p>The horse belongs to the fiery god Mars. He favors war, and is one of +its oldest, most available, and most formidable engines. The steed is +clothed with thunder, and smells the battle from afar; but the cattle +upon a thousand hills denote that peace and plenty bear sway in the +land. The neighing of the horse is a call to battle; but the lowing of +old Brockleface in the valley brings the golden age again. The savage +tribes are never without the horse; the Scythians are all mounted; but +the cow would tame and humanize them. When the Indians will cultivate +the cow, I shall think their civilization fairly begun. Recently, when +the horses were sick with the epizoötic, and the oxen came to the city +and helped to do their work, what an Arcadian air again filled the +streets. But the dear old oxen—how awkward and distressed they looked! +Juno wept in the face of every one of them. The horse is a true citizen, +and is entirely at home in the paved streets; but the ox—what a +complete embodiment of all rustic and rural things! Slow, deliberate, +thick-skinned, powerful, hulky, ruminating, fragrant-breathed, when he +came to town the spirit and suggestion of all Georgics and Bucolics came +with him. Oh, citizen, was it only a plodding, unsightly brute that went +by? Was there no chord in your bosom, long silent, that sweetly vibrated +at the sight of that patient, Herculean couple? Did you smell no hay or +cropped herbage, see no summer pastures with circles of cool shade, hear +no voice of herds among the hills? They were very likely the only horses +your grandfather ever had. Not much trouble to harness and unharness +them. Not much vanity on the road in those days. They did all the work +on the early pioneer farm. They were the gods whose rude strength first +broke the soil. They could live where the moose and the deer could. If +there was no clover or timothy to be had, then the twigs of the basswood +and birch would do. Before there were yet fields given up to grass, they +found ample pasturage in the woods. Their wide-spreading horns gleamed +in the duskiness, and their paths and the paths of the cows became the +future roads and highways, or even the streets of great cities.</p> + +<p>All the descendants of Odin show a bovine trace, and cherish and +cultivate the cow. What were those old Vikings but thick-hided bulls +that delighted in nothing so much as goring each other? And has not the +charge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> of beefiness been brought much nearer home to us than that? But +about all the northern races there is something that is kindred to +cattle in the best sense—something in their art and literature that is +essentially pastoral, sweet-breathed, continent, dispassionate, +ruminating, wide-eyed, soft-voiced—a charm of kine, the virtue of +brutes.</p> + +<p>The cow belongs more especially to the northern peoples, to the region +of the good, green grass. She is the true <i>grazing</i> animal. That broad, +smooth, always dewy nose of hers is just the suggestion of green sward. +She caresses the grass; she sweeps off the ends of the leaves; she reaps +it with the soft sickle of her tongue. She crops close, but she does not +bruise or devour the turf like the horse. She is the sward's best +friend, and will make it thick and smooth as a carpet.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The turfy mountains where live the nibbling sheep</p></div> + +<p>are not for her. Her muzzle is too blunt; then she does not <i>bite</i> as do +the sheep; she has not upper teeth; she <i>crops</i>. But on the lower +slopes, and margins, and rich bottoms, she is at home. Where the daisy +and the buttercup and clover bloom, and where corn will grow, is her +proper domain. The agriculture of no country can long thrive without +her. Not only a large part of the real, but much of the potential wealth +of the land is wrapped up in her.</p> + +<p>What a variety of individualities a herd of cows presents when you have +come to know them all, not only in form and color, but in manners and +disposition. Some are timid and awkward and the butt of the whole herd. +Some remind you of deer. Some have an expression in the face like +certain persons you have known. A petted and well-fed cow has a +benevolent and gracious look; an ill-used and poorly-fed one a pitiful +and forlorn look. Some cows have a masculine or ox expression; others +are extremely feminine. The latter are the ones for milk. Some cows will +kick like a horse; some jump fences like deer. Every herd has its +ringleader, its unruly spirit—one that plans all the mischief and leads +the rest through the fences into the grain or into the orchard. This one +is usually quite different from the master spirit, the "boss of the +yard." The latter is generally the most peaceful and law-abiding cow in +the lot, and the least bullying and quarrelsome. But she is not to be +trifled with; her will is law; the whole herd give way before her, those +that have crossed horns with her, and those that have not, but yielded +their allegiance without crossing. I remember such a one among my +father's milkers when I was a boy—a slender-horned, deep-shouldered, +large-uddered, dewlapped old cow that we always put first in the long +stable so she could not have a cow on each side of her to forage upon; +for the master is yielded to no less in the stancheons than in the yard. +She always had the first place anywhere. She had her choice of standing +room in the milking yard, and when she wanted to lie down there or in +the fields the best and softest spot was hers. When the herd were +foddered from the stack or barn, or fed with pumpkins in the fall, she +was always first served. Her demeanor was quiet but impressive. She +never bullied or gored her mates, but literally ruled them with the +breath of her nostrils. If any newcomer or ambitious younger cow, +however, chafed under her supremacy, she was ever ready to make good her +claims. And with what spirit she would fight when openly challenged! She +was a whirlwind of pluck and valor; and not after one defeat or two +defeats would she yield the championship. The boss cow, when overcome, +seems to brood over her disgrace, and day after day will meet her rival +in fierce combat.</p> + +<p>A friend of mine, a pastoral philosopher, whom I have consulted in +regard to the master cow, thinks it is seldom the case that one rules +all the herd, if it number many, but that there is often one that will +rule nearly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> all. "Curiously enough," he says, "a case like this will +often occur: No. 1 will whip No. 2; No. 2 whips No. 3; and No. 3 whips +No. 1; so around in a circle. This is not a mistake; it is often the +case. I remember," he continued, "we once had feeding out of a large bin +in the centre of the yard six oxen who mastered right through in +succession from No. 1 to No. 6; <i>but No. 6 paid off the score by +whipping No. 1</i>. I often watched them when they were all trying to feed +out of the box, and of course trying, dog-in-the-manger fashion, each to +prevent any other he could. They would often get in the order to do it +very systematically, since they could keep rotating about the box till +the chain happened to get broken somewhere, when there would be +confusion. Their mastership, you know, like that between nations, is +constantly changing. But there are always Napoleons who hold their own +through many vicissitudes; but the ordinary cow is continually liable to +lose her foothold. Some cow she has always despised, and has often sent +tossing across the yard at her horns' ends, some pleasant morning will +return the compliment and pay off old scores."</p> + +<p>But my own observation has been that in herds in which there have been +no important changes for several years, the question of might gets +pretty well settled, and some one cow becomes the acknowledged ruler.</p> + +<p>The bully of the yard is never the master, but usually a second or +third-rate pusher that never loses an opportunity to hook those beneath +her, or to gore the masters if she can get them in a tight place. If +such a one can get loose in the stable, she is quite certain to do +mischief. She delights to pause in the open bars and turn and keep those +at bay behind her till she sees a pair of threatening horns pressing +toward her, when she quickly passes on. As one cow masters all, so there +is one cow that is mastered by all. These are the two extremes of the +herd, the head and the tail. Between them are all grades of authority, +with none so poor but hath some poorer to do her reverence.</p> + +<p>The cow has evidently come down to us from a wild or semi-wild state; +perhaps is a descendant of those wild, shaggy cattle of which a small +band still exists in the forests of Scotland. Cuvier seems to have been +of this opinion. One of the ways in which her wild instincts still crop +out is the disposition she shows in spring to hide her calf—a common +practice among the wild herds. Her wild nature would be likely to come +to the surface at this crisis if ever; and I have known cows that +practised great secrecy in dropping their calves. As their time +approached they grew restless, a wild and excited look was upon them, +and if left free, they generally set out for the woods or for some other +secluded spot. After the calf is several hours old, and has got upon its +feet and had its first meal, the dam by some sign commands it to lie +down and remain quiet while she goes forth to feed. If the calf is +approached at such time, it plays "'possum," assumes to be dead or +asleep, till on finding this ruse does not succeed, it mounts to its +feet, bleats loudly and fiercely, and charges desperately upon the +intruder. But it recovers from this wild scare in a little while, and +never shows signs of it again.</p> + +<p>The habit of the cow, also, in eating the placenta, looks to me like a +vestige of her former wild instincts—the instinct to remove everything +that would give the wild beasts a clue or a scent, and so attract them +to her helpless young.</p> + +<p>How wise and sagacious the cows become that run upon the street, or pick +their living along the highway. The mystery of gates and bars is at last +solved to them. They ponder over them by night, they lurk about them by +day, till they acquire a new sense—till they become <i>en rapport</i> with +them and know when they are open and unguarded. The garden gate, if it +open into the highway at any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> point, is never out of the mind of these +roadsters, or out of their calculations. They calculate upon the chances +of its being left open a certain number of times in the season; and if +it be but once and only for five minutes, your cabbage and sweet corn +suffer. What villager, or countryman either, has not been awakened at +night by the squeaking and crunching of those piratical jaws under the +window or in the direction of the vegetable patch? I have had the cows, +after they had eaten up my garden, break into the stable where my own +milcher was tied, and gore her and devour her meal. Yes, life presents +but one absorbing problem to the street cow, and that is how to get into +your garden. She catches glimpses of it over the fence or through the +pickets, and her imagination or epigastrium is inflamed. When the spot +is surrounded by a high board fence, I think I have seen her peeping at +the cabbages through a knot-hole. At last she learns to open the gate. +It is a great triumph of bovine wit. She does it with her horn or her +nose, or may be with her ever ready tongue. I doubt if she has ever yet +penetrated the mystery of the newer patent fastenings; but the +old-fashioned thumb-latch she can see through, give her time enough.</p> + +<p>A large, lank, muley or polled cow used to annoy me in this way when I +was a dweller in a certain pastoral city. I more than half suspected she +was turned in by some one; so one day I watched. Presently I heard the +gate-latch rattle; the gate swung open, and in walked the old buffalo. +On seeing me she turned and ran like a horse. I then fastened the gate +on the inside and watched again. After long waiting the old cow came +quickly round the corner and approached the gate. She lifted the latch +with her nose. Then, as the gate did not move, she lifted it again and +again. Then she gently nudged it. Then, the obtuse gate not taking the +hint, she butted it gently, then harder and still harder, till it +rattled again. At this juncture I emerged from my hiding place, when +the old villain scampered off with great precipitation. She knew she was +trespassing, and she had learned that there were usually some swift +penalties attached to this pastime.</p> + +<p>I have owned but three cows and loved but one. That was the first one, +Chloe, a bright red, curly-pated, golden-skinned Devonshire cow, that an +ocean steamer landed for me upon the banks of the Potomac one bright May +day many clover summers ago. She came from the north, from the pastoral +regions of the Catskills, to graze upon the broad commons of the +national capital. I was then the fortunate and happy lessee of an old +place with an acre of ground attached, almost within the shadow of the +dome of the capitol. Behind a high but aged and decrepit board fence I +indulged my rural and unclerical tastes. I could look up from my homely +tasks and cast a potato almost in the midst of that cataract of marble +steps that flows out of the north wing of the patriotic pile. Ah, when +that creaking and sagging back gate closed behind me in the evening, I +was happy; and when it opened for my egress thence in the morning, I was +not happy. Inside that gate was a miniature farm redolent of homely, +primitive life, a tumble-down house and stables and implements of +agriculture and horticulture, broods of chickens, and growing pumpkins, +and a thousand antidotes to the weariness of an artificial life. Outside +of it were the marble and iron palaces, the paved and blistering +streets, and the high, vacant, mahogany desk of a government clerk. In +that ancient enclosure I took an earth bath twice a day. I planted +myself as deep in the soil as I could to restore the normal tone and +freshness of my system, impaired by the above mentioned government +mahogany. I have found there is nothing like the earth to draw the +various social distempers out of one. The blue devils take flight at +once if they see you mean to bury them and make compost of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +Emerson intimates that the scholar had better not try to have two +gardens; but I could never spend an hour hoeing up dock and red-root and +twitch grass without in some way getting rid of many weeds and fungus, +unwholesome growths that a petty, in-doors life was for ever fostering +in my own moral and intellectual nature.</p> + +<p>But the finishing touch was not given till Chloe came. She was the jewel +for which this homely setting waited. My agriculture had some object +then. The old gate never opened with such alacrity as when she paused +before it. How we waited for her coming! Should I send Drewer, the +colored patriarch, for her? No; the master of the house himself should +receive Juno at the capital.</p> + +<p>"One cask for you," said the clerk, referring to the steamer bill of +lading.</p> + +<p>"Then I hope it's a cask of milk," I said. "I expected a cow."</p> + +<p>"One cask it says here."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's see it; I'll warrant it has horns and is tied by a rope"; +which proved to be the case, for there stood the only object that bore +my name, chewing its cud, on the forward deck. How she liked the voyage +I could not find out; but she seemed to relish so much the feeling of +solid ground beneath her feet once more that she led me a lively step +all the way home. She cut capers in front of the White House, and tried +twice to wind me up in the rope as we passed the Treasury. She kicked up +her heels on the broad avenue and became very coltish as she came under +the walls of the capitol. But that night the long-vacant stall in the +old stable was filled, and the next morning the coffee had met with a +change of heart. I had to go out twice with the lantern and survey my +treasure before I went to bed. Did she not come from the delectable +mountains, and did I not have a sort of filial regard for her as toward +my foster mother?</p> + +<p>This was during the Arcadian age at the capital, before the easy-going +southern ways had gone out and the prim new northern ways had come in, +and when the domestic animals were treated with distinguished +consideration and granted the freedom of the city. There was a charm of +cattle in the streets and upon the commons: goats cropped your rose +bushes through the pickets, and nooned upon your front porch, and pigs +dreamed Arcadian dreams under your garden fence or languidly frescoed it +with pigments from the nearest pool. It was a time of peace; it was the +poor man's golden age. Your cow, or your goat, or your pig led a +vagrant, wandering life, and picked up a subsistence wherever they +could, like the bees, which was almost everywhere. Your cow went forth +in the morning and came home fraught with milk at night, and you never +troubled yourself where she went or how far she roamed.</p> + +<p>Chloe took very naturally to this kind of life. At first I had to go +with her a few times and pilot her to the nearest commons, and then left +her to her own wit, which never failed her. What adventures she had, +what acquaintances she made, how far she wandered, I never knew. I never +came across her in my walks or rambles. Indeed, on several occasions I +thought I would look her up and see her feeding in the national +pastures, but I never could find her. There were plenty of cows, but +they were all strangers. But punctually, between four and five o'clock +in the afternoon, her white horns would be seen tossing above the gate +and her impatient low be heard. Sometimes, when I turned her forth in +the morning, she would pause and apparently consider which way she would +go. Should she go toward Kendall Green to-day, or follow the Tiber, or +over by the Big Spring, or out around Lincoln Hospital? She seldom +reached a conclusion till she had stretched forth her neck and blown a +blast on her trumpet that awoke the echoes in the very lantern on the +dome of the capitol. Then, after one or two licks, she would disappear +around the corner. Later in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> the season, when the grass was parched or +poor on the commons, and the corn and cabbage tempting in the garden, +Chloe was loth to depart in the morning, and her deliberations were +longer than ever, and very often I had to aid her in coming to a +decision.</p> + +<p>For two summers she was a well-spring of pleasure and profit in my farm +of one acre, when in an evil moment I resolved to part with her and try +another. In an evil moment I say, for from that time my luck in cattle +left me. Juno never forgave me the execution of that rash and cruel +resolve.</p> + +<p>The day is indellibly stamped on my memory when I exposed my Chloe for +sale in the public market place. It was in November, a bright, dreamy, +Indian summer day. A sadness oppressed me, not unmixed with guilt and +remorse. An old Irish woman came to the market also with her pets to +sell, a sow and five pigs, and took up a position next me. We condoled +with each other; we bewailed the fate of our darlings together; we +berated in chorus the white-aproned but bloodstained fraternity who +prowled about us. When she went away for a moment I minded the pigs, and +when I strolled about she minded my cow. How shy the innocent beast was +of those carnal market men. How she would shrink away from them. When +they put out a hand to feel her condition she would "scrooch" down her +back, or bend this way or that, as if the hand were a branding iron. So +long as I stood by her head she felt safe—deluded creature—and chewed +the cud of sweet content; but the moment I left her side she seemed +filled with apprehension, and followed me with her eyes, lowing softly +and entreatingly till I returned.</p> + +<p>At last the money was counted out for her, and her rope surrendered to +the hand of another. How that last look of alarm and incredulity, which +I caught as I turned for a parting glance, went to my heart!</p> + +<p>Her stall was soon filled, or partly filled, and this time with a +native—a specimen of what may be called the cornstalk breed of +Virginia: a slender, furtive, long-geared heifer just verging on +cowhood, that in spite of my best efforts would wear a pinched and +hungry look. She evidently inherited a humped back. It was a family +trait, and evidence of the purity of her blood. For the native blooded +cow of Virginia, from shivering over half rations of corn stalks, in the +open air, during those bleak and windy winters, and roaming over those +parched fields in summer, has come to have some marked features. For one +thing, her pedal extremities seemed lengthened; for another, her udder +does not impede her travelling; for a third, her backbone inclines +strongly to the curve; then, she despiseth hay. This last is a sure +test. Offer a thorough-bred Virginia cow hay, and she will laugh in your +face; but rattle the husks or shucks, and she knows you to be her +friend.</p> + +<p>The new comer even declined corn meal at first. She eyed it furtively, +then sniffed it suspiciously, but finally discovered that it bore some +relation to her native "shucks," when she fell to eagerly.</p> + +<p>I cherish the memory of this cow, however, as the most affectionate +brute I ever knew. Being deprived of her calf, she transferred her +affections to her master, and would fain have made a calf of him, lowing +in the most piteous and inconsolable manner when he was out of her +sight, hardly forgetting her grief long enough to eat her meal, and +entirely neglecting her beloved husks. Often in the middle of the night +she would set up that sonorous lamentation and continue it till sleep +was chased from every eye in the household. This generally had the +effect of bringing the object of her affection before her, but in a mood +anything but filial or comforting. Still, at such times a kick seemed a +comfort to her, and she would gladly have kissed the rod that was the +instrument of my midnight wrath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>But her tender star was destined soon to a fatal eclipse. Being tied +with too long a rope on one occasion during my temporary absence, she +got her head into the meal barrel, and stopped not till she had devoured +nearly half a bushel of dry meal. The singularly placid and benevolent +look that beamed from the meal-besmeared face when I discovered her was +something to be remembered. For the first time also her spinal column +came near assuming a horizontal line.</p> + +<p>But the grist proved too much for her frail mill, and her demise took +place on the third day, not of course without some attempt to relieve +her on my part. I gave her, as is usual in such emergencies, everything +I "could think of" and everything my neighbors could think of, besides +some fearful prescriptions which I obtained from a German veterinary +surgeon, but to no purpose. I imagined her poor maw distended and +inflamed with the baking sodden mass which no physic could penetrate or +enliven.</p> + +<p>Thus ended my second venture in live stock. My third, which followed +sharp upon the heels of this disaster, was scarcely more of a success. +This time I led to the altar a buffalo cow, as they call the "mully" +down south—a large, spotted, creamy-skinned cow, with a fine udder, +that I persuaded a Jew drover to part with for ninety dollars. "Pag like +a dish rack (rag)," said he, pointing to her udder after she had been +milked. "You vill come pack and gif me the udder ten tollars" (for he +had demanded an even hundred), he continued, "after you have had her a +gouple of days." True I felt like returning to him after a "gouple of +days," but not to pay the other ten dollars. The cow proved to be as +blind as a bat, though capable of counterfeiting the act of seeing to +perfection. For did she not lift up her head and follow with her eyes a +dog that scaled the fence and ran through the other end of the lot, and +the next moment dash my hopes thus raised by trying to walk over a +locust tree thirty feet high? And when I set the bucket before her +containing her first mess of meal, she missed it by several inches, and +her nose brought up against the ground. Was it a kind of far-sightedness +and near blindness? That was it, I think; she had genius, but not +talent; she could see the man in the moon, but was quite oblivious to +the man immediately in her front. Her eyes were telescopic and required +a long range.</p> + +<p>As long as I kept her in the stall, or confined to the enclosure, this +strange eclipse of her sight was of little consequence. But when spring +came, and it was time for her to go forth and seek her livelihood in the +city's waste places, I was embarrassed. Into what remote corners or into +what <i>terra incognita</i> might she not wander! There was little doubt but +she would drift around home in the course of the summer, or perhaps as +often as every week or two; but could she be trusted to find her way +back every night? Perhaps she could be taught. Perhaps her other senses +were acute enough to in a measure compensate her for her defective +vision. So I gave her lessons in the topography of the country. I led +her forth to graze for a few hours each day and led her home again. Then +I left her to come home alone, which feat she accomplished very +encouragingly. She came feeling her way along, stepping very high, but +apparently a most diligent and interested sightseer. But she was not +sure of the right house when she got to it, though she stared at it very +hard.</p> + +<p>Again I turned her forth, and again she came back, her telescopic eyes +apparently of some service to her. On the third day there was a fierce +thunderstorm late in the afternoon, and old buffalo did not come home. +It had evidently scattered and bewildered what little wit she had. Being +barely able to navigate those straits on a calm day, what could she be +expected to do in a tempest?</p> + +<p>After the storm had passed, and near sundown, I set out in quest of her, +but could get no clue. I heard that two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> cows had been struck by +lightning about a mile out on the commons. My conscience instantly told +me that one of them was mine. It would be a fit closing of the third act +of this pastoral drama. Thitherward I bent my steps, and there upon the +smooth plain I beheld the scorched and swollen forms of two cows slain +by thunderbolts, but neither of them had ever been mine.</p> + +<p>The next day I continued the search, and the next, and the next. Finally +I hoisted an umbrella over my head, for the weather had become hot, and +set out deliberately and systematically to explore every foot of open +common on Capitol hill. I tramped many miles, and found every man's cow +but my own—some twelve or fifteen hundred, I should think. I saw many +vagrant boys and Irish and colored women, nearly all of whom had seen a +buffalo cow that very day that answered exactly to my description, but +in such diverse and widely separate places that I knew it was no cow of +mine. And it was astonishing how many times I was myself deceived; how +many rumps or heads, or liver backs or white flanks I saw peeping over +knolls or from behind fences or other objects that could belong to no +cow but mine!</p> + +<p>Finally I gave up the search, concluded the cow had been stolen, and +advertised her, offering a reward. But days passed, and no tidings were +obtained. Hope began to burn pretty low—was indeed on the point of +going out altogether, when one afternoon, as I was strolling over the +commons (for in my walks I still hovered about the scenes of my lost +milcher), I saw the rump of a cow, over a grassy knoll, that looked +familiar. Coming nearer, the beast lifted up her head; and, behold! it +was she! only a few squares from home, where doubtless she had been most +of the time. I had overshot the mark in my search. I had ransacked the +far-off, and had neglected the near-at-hand, as we are so apt to do. But +she was ruined as a milcher, and her history thenceforward was brief and +touching!</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">John Burroughs.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LOVES_MESSENGERS" id="LOVES_MESSENGERS"></a>LOVE'S MESSENGERS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who will tell him? Who will teach him?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Have you voices, merry birds?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Then be voice for me, and reach him</span><br /> +<span class="i0">With a thousand pleading words.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Sing my secret, east and west,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Till his answer be confessed!</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Roses, when you see him coming,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Light of heart and strong of limb,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Make your lover-bees stop humming;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Turn your blushes round to him—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Blush, dear flowers, that he may learn,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">How a woman's heart can burn!</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wind—oh, wind—you happy rover!</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Oh that I were half as free—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Leave your honey-bells and clover,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Go and seek my love for me.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Find, kiss, clasp him, make him know</span><br /> +<span class="i0">It is <i>I</i> who love him so!</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Mary Ainge De Vere.</span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HEAD_OF_HERCULES" id="THE_HEAD_OF_HERCULES"></a>THE HEAD OF HERCULES.</h2> + + +<p>One of the most curious cases that ever came under my notice in a long +course of criminal practice was not brought into any court, and, as I +believe, has never been published until now. The details of the affair +came under my personal cognizance in the following manner:</p> + +<p>In 1858 I went down into the Shenandoah valley to spend my summer +vacation among the innumerable Pages, Marshalls, and Cookes who all +hailed me as cousin, by right of traditional intermarriages generations +back. My first visit was to the house of McCormack Beardsley, a kinsman +and school-fellow whom I had not seen since we parted at the university +twenty years before.</p> + +<p>We were both gray-haired old fellows now, but I had grown thin and sharp +in the courts of Baltimore and Washington, while he had lived quietly on +his plantation, more fat and jovial and genial with every year.</p> + +<p>Beardsley possessed large means then, and maintained the unlimited +hospitality usual among large Virginia planters before the war. The +house was crowded during my stay with my old friends from the valley and +southern countries. His daughter, too, was not only a beauty, but a +favorite among the young people, and brought many attractive, well-bred +girls about her, and young men who were not so attractive or well bred. +Lack of occupation and a definite career had reduced the sons of too +many Virginia families at that time to cards and horses as their sole +pursuits; the war, while it left them penniless, was in one sense their +salvation.</p> + +<p>One evening, sitting on the verandah with Beardsley, smoking, and +looking in the open windows of the parlor, I noticed a woman who sat a +little apart, and who, as I fancied, was avoided by the younger girls. +In a Virginia country party there are always two or three unmarried +women, past their first youth, with merry blue eyes, brown hair, and +delicate features—women "with a history," but who are none the less +good dancers, riders, and able to put all their cleverness into the +making of a pie or a match for their cousins. This woman was blue-eyed +and brown-haired, but she had none of the neat, wide-awake +self-possession of her class. She had a more childish expression, and +spoke with a more timid uncertainty, than even Lotty Beardsley, who was +still in the schoolroom. I called my host's attention to her and asked +who she was.</p> + +<p>"It is the daughter of my cousin, General George Waring. You remember +him surely—of the Henrico branch of Warings?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. But he had only one child—Louisa; and I remember receiving +an invitation to her wedding years ago."</p> + +<p>"Yes. This is Louisa. The wedding never took place. It's an odd story," +he said, after a pause, "and the truth is, Floyd, I brought the girl +here while you were with us in the hope that you, with your legal +acumen, could solve the mystery that surrounds her. I'll give the facts +to you to-morrow—it's impossible to do it now. But tell me, in the mean +time, how she impresses you, looking at her as a lawyer would at a +client, or a—a prisoner on trial. Do you observe anything peculiar in +her face or manner?"</p> + +<p>"I observed a very peculiar manner in all those about her—an effort at +cordiality in which they did not succeed; a certain constraint in look +and tone while speaking to her. I even saw it in yourself just now as +soon as you mentioned her name."</p> + +<p>"You did? I'm sorry for that—ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>ceedingly sorry!" anxiously. "I believe +in Louisa Waring's innocence as I do in that of my own child; and if I +thought she was hurt or neglected in this house—— But there's a cloud +on the girl, Floyd—that's a fact. It don't amount even to suspicion. If +it did, one could argue it down. But——Well, what do you make of +her—her face now?"</p> + +<p>"It is not an especially clever face, nor one that indicates power of +any kind; not the face of a woman who of her own will would be the +heroine of any remarkable story. I should judge her to have been a few +years ago one of the sensible, light-hearted, sweet-tempered girls of +whom there are so many in Virginia; a nice housekeeper, and one who +would have made a tender wife and mother."</p> + +<p>"Well, well? Nothing more?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She has not matured into womanhood as such girls do. She looks as +if her growth in every-day experiences had stopped years ago; that while +her body grew older her mind had halted, immature, incomplete. A great +grief might have had that effect, or the absorption of all her faculties +by one sudden, mastering idea."</p> + +<p>"You are a little too metaphysical for me," said Beardsley. "Poor Lou +isn't shrewd by any means, and always gives me the feeling that she +needs care and protection more than most women, if that is what you +mean."</p> + +<p>"There is a singular expression in her face at times," I resumed.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Now you have it!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Sitting there in your parlor, where there is certainly nothing to +dread, she has glanced behind and about her again and again, as though +she heard a sound that frightened her. I observe, too, that when any man +speaks to her she fixes on him a keen, suspicious look. She does not +have it with women. It passes quickly, but it is there. It is precisely +the expression of an insane person, or a guilty one dreading arrest."</p> + +<p>"You are a close observer, Floyd. I told my wife that we could not do +better than submit the whole case to your judgment. We are all Lou's +friends in the neighborhood; but we cannot look at the matter with your +legal experience and unprejudiced eyes. Come, let us go into supper +now."</p> + +<p>The next morning I was summoned to Beardsley's "study" (so called +probably from the total absence of either book or newspaper), and found +himself and his wife awaiting me, and also a Doctor Scheffer, whom I had +previously noticed among the guests—a gaunt, hectic young man, +apparently on the high road to death, the victim of an incurable +consumption.</p> + +<p>"I asked William Scheffer to meet us here," said Mr. Beardsley, "as +Louisa Waring was an inmate of his father's house at the time of the +occurrence. She and William were children and playmates together. I +believe I am right, William. You knew all the circumstances of that +terrible night?"</p> + +<p>The young man's heavy face changed painfully. "Yes; as much as was known +to any one but Louisa, and—the guilty man, whoever he was. But why are +you dragging out that wretched affair?" turning angrily on Mrs. +Beardsley. "Surely any friend of Miss Waring's would try to bury the +past for her!"</p> + +<p>"No," said the lady calmly. "It has been buried quite too long, in my +opinion; for she has carried her burden for six years. It is time now +that we should try to lift it for her. You are sitting in a draught, +William. Sit on this sofa."</p> + +<p>Scheffer, coughing frightfully, and complaining with all the testiness +of a long-humored invalid, was disposed of at last, and Beardsley began:</p> + +<p>"The story is briefly this. Louisa, before her father's death, was +engaged to be married to Colonel Paul Merrick (Merricks of Clarke +county, you know). The wedding was postponed for a year when General +Waring died, and Louisa went to her uncle's—your father, Wil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>liam—to +live during that time. When the year was over, every preparation was +made for the marriage: invitations were sent to all the kinsfolk on both +sides (and that included three or four counties on a rough guess), and +we—the immediate family—were assembled at Major Scheffer's preparing +for the grand event, when——" Beardsley became now excessively hot and +flurried, and getting up, thumped heavily up and down the room.</p> + +<p>"After all, there is nothing to tell. Why should we bring in a famous +lawyer to sit in judgment on her as if the girl were a criminal? She +only did, Floyd, what women have done since the beginning—changed her +mind without reason. Paul Merrick was as clever and lovable a young +fellow as you would find in the State, and Louisa was faithful to +him—she's faithful to him yet; but on the night before the wedding she +refused to marry him, and has persisted in the refusal ever since, +without assigning a cause."</p> + +<p>"Is that all of the story?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Beardsley was silent.</p> + +<p>"No," said his wife gently; "that is not all. I thought McCormack's +courage would fail before he gave you the facts. I shall try and tell +you——"</p> + +<p>"Only the facts, if you please, without any inferences or opinions of +others."</p> + +<p>The old lady paused for a moment, and then began: "A couple of days +before the wedding we went over to Major Scheffer's to help prepare for +it. You know we have no restaurateurs nor confectioners to depend upon, +and such occasions are busy seasons. The gentlemen played whist, rode +about the plantation, or tried the Major's wines, while indoors we, all +of us—married ladies and girls and a dozen old aunties—were at work +with cakes, creams, and pastry. I recollect I took over our cook, Prue, +because Lou fancied nobody could make such wine jelly as hers. Then +Lou's trousseau was a very rich one, and she wanted to try on all of her +pretty dresses, that we might see how——"</p> + +<p>"My dear!" interrupted Mr. Beardsley, "this really appears irrelevant to +the matter——"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I wish Mr. Floyd to gain an idea of Louisa's temper and +mood at that time. The truth is, she was passionately fond of her lover, +and very happy that her marriage was so near; and being a modest little +thing, she hid her feeling under an incessant, merry chatter about +dresses and jellies. Don't you agree with me, William?"</p> + +<p>The sick man turned on the sofa with a laugh, which looked ghastly +enough on his haggard face. "I submit, Aunt Sophie, that it is hardly +fair to call me in as a witness in this case. I waited on Lou for two or +three years, Mr. Floyd, and she threw me over for Merrick. It is not +likely that I was an unprejudiced observer of her moods just then."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, William. I knew that was but the idlest flirtation between +you, or I should not have brought you here now," said his aunt. "Well, +Mr. Floyd, the preparations all were completed on the afternoon before +the wedding. Some of the young people had gathered in the library—Paul +Merrick and his sisters and—you were there, William?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was there."</p> + +<p>"And they persuaded Lou to put on her wedding dress and veil to give +them a glimpse of the bride. I think it was Paul who wished it. He was a +hot, eager young fellow, and he was impatient to taste his happiness by +anticipation. It was a dull, gusty afternoon in October. I remember the +contrast she made to the gray, cold day as she came in, shy and +blushing, and her eyes sparkling, in her haze of white, and stood in +front of the window. She was so lovely and pure that we were all silent. +It seemed as if she belonged then to her lover alone, and none of us had +a right to utter a word. He went up to her, but no one heard what he +said, and then took her by the hand and led her reverently to the door. +Presently I met her coming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> out of her chamber in a cloak and hat. Her +maid Abby was inside, folding the white dress and veil. 'I am going down +to Aunty Huldah's,' Lou said to me. 'I promised her to come again before +I was married and tell her the arrangements all over once more.' Huldah +was an old colored woman, Lou's nurse, who lived down on the creek bank +and had long been bedridden. I remember that I said to Louisa that the +walk would be long and lonely, and told her to call Paul to accompany +her. She hesitated a moment, and then turned to the door, saying Huldah +would probably be in one of her most funereal moods, and that she would +not have Paul troubled on the eve of his wedding day. She started, +running and looking back with a laugh, down the hill." Mrs. Beardsley +faltered and stopped.</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Dr. Scheffer. "The incidents which follow are all that +really affect Louisa's guilt or innocence."</p> + +<p>"Go on, mother," said Beardsley hastily. "Louisa's innocence is not +called in question. Remember that. Tell everything you know without +scruple."</p> + +<p>The old lady began again in a lower voice: "We expected an arrival that +afternoon—Houston Simms, a distant kinsman of Major Scheffer's. He was +from Kentucky—a large owner of blooded stock—and was on his way home +from New York, where his horses had just won the prizes at the fall +races. He had promised to stop for the wedding, and the carriage had +been sent to the station to meet him. The station, as you know, is five +miles up the road. By some mistake the carriage was late, and Houston +started, with his valise in his hand, to walk to the house, making a +short cut through the woods. When the carriage came back empty, and the +driver told this to us, some of the young men started down to meet the +old gentleman. It was then about four o'clock, and growing dark rapidly. +The wind, I recollect, blew sharply, and a cold rain set in. I came out +on the long porch, and walked up and down, feeling uneasy and annoyed at +Louisa's prolonged absence. Colonel Merrick, who had been looking for +her all through the house, had just learned from me where she had gone, +and was starting with umbrellas to meet her, when she came suddenly up +to us, crossing the ploughed field, not from the direction of Huldah's +cabin, but from the road. We both hurried toward her; but when she +caught sight of Colonel Merrick she stopped short, putting out her hands +with a look of terror and misery quite indescribable. 'Take me away from +him! Oh, for God's sake!' she cried. I saw she had suffered some great +shock, and taking her in my arms, led her in, motioning him to keep +back. She was so weak as to fall, but did not faint, nor lose +consciousness for a single moment. All night she lay, her eyes wandering +from side to side as in momentary expectancy of the appearance of some +one. No anodyne had any effect upon her—every nerve seemed strained to +its utmost tension. But she did not speak a word except at the sound of +Colonel Merrick's voice or step, when she would beg piteously that he +should be kept away from her. Toward morning she fell into a kind of +stupor, and when she awoke appeared to be calmer. She beckoned to me, +and asked that her uncle Scheffer and Judge Grove, her other guardian, +should be sent for. She received them standing, apparently quite grave +and composed. She asked that several other persons should be called in, +desiring, she said, to have as many witnesses as possible to what she +was about to make known. 'You all know,' she said, 'that to-morrow was +to have been my wedding day. I wish you now to bear witness that I +refuse to-day or at any future time to marry Paul Merrick, and that no +argument or persuasion will induce me to do so. And I wish,' raising her +hand, to keep silence—'I wish to say publicly that it is no fault or +ill doing of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> Colonel Merrick's that has driven me to this resolve. I +say this as in the sight of Almighty God.' Nobody argued, or scarcely, +indeed, spoke to her. Every one saw that she was physically a very ill +woman; and it was commonly believed that she had received some sudden +shock which had unhinged her mind. An hour afterward the searching party +came in (for the young men, not finding Houston Simms, had gone out +again to search for him). They had found his dead body concealed in the +woods by Mill's spring. You know the place. There was a pistol shot +through the head, and a leathern pocketbook, which had apparently +contained money, was found empty a few feet away. That was the end of it +all, Mr. Floyd."</p> + +<p>"You mean that Simms's murderer was never found?"</p> + +<p>"Never," said Beardsley, "though detectives were brought down from +Richmond and set on the track. Their theory—a plausible one enough +too—was that Simms had been followed from New York by men who knew the +large sum he earned from the races, and that they had robbed and +murdered him, and readily escaped through the swamps."</p> + +<p>"It never was my belief," said Dr. Scheffer, "that he was murdered at +all. It was hinted that he had stopped in a gambling house in New York, +and there lost whatever sum he had won at the races; and that rather +than meet his family in debt and penniless, he blew out his brains in +the first lonely place to which he came. That explanation was plain +enough."</p> + +<p>"What was the end of the story so far as Miss Waring was concerned?" I +asked.</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, it never has had an end," said Mrs. Beardsley. "The +mystery remains. She was ill afterward; indeed, it was years before she +regained her bodily strength as before. But her mind had never been +unhinged, as Paul Merrick thought. He waited patiently, thinking that +some day her reason would return, and she would come back to him. But +Louisa Waring was perfectly sane even in the midst of her agony on that +night. From that day until now she has never by word or look given any +clue by which the reason of her refusal to marry him could be +discovered. Of course the murder and her strange conduct produced a +great excitement in this quiet neighborhood. But you can imagine all +that. I simply have given you the facts which bear on the case."</p> + +<p>"The first suspicion, I suppose, rested on Merrick?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Yes. The natural explanation of her conduct was that she had witnessed +an encounter in the woods between Simms and her lover, in which the old +man was killed. Fortunately, however, Paul Merrick had not left the +house once during the afternoon until he went out with me to meet her."</p> + +<p>"And then Miss Waring was selected as the guilty party?"</p> + +<p>No one answered for a moment. Young Scheffer lay with his arm over his +face, which had grown so worn and haggard as the story was told that I +doubted whether his affection for the girl had been the slight matter +which he chose to represent it.</p> + +<p>"No," said Beardsley; "she never was openly accused, nor even subjected +to any public interrogation. She came to the house in the opposite +direction from the spot where the murder took place. And there was no +rational proof that she had any cognizance of it. But there were not +wanting busybodies to suggest that she had met Simms in the woods, and +at some proffered insult from him had fired the fatal shot."</p> + +<p>His wife's fair old face flushed. "How can you repeat such absurdity, +McCormack?" she said. "Louisa Waring was as likely to go about armed +as—as I!" knitting vehemently at a woollen stocking she had held idly +until now.</p> + +<p>"I know it was absurd, my dear. But you know as well as I that though it +was but the mere breath of suspi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>cion, it has always clung to the girl +and set her apart as it were from other women."</p> + +<p>"What effect did that report have on Merrick?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"The effect it would have on any man deserving the name," said +Beardsley. "If he loved her passionately before, she has been, I +believe, doubly dear to him since. But she has never allowed him to meet +her since that night."</p> + +<p>"You think her feeling is unchanged for him?"</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt of it," Mrs. Beardsley said. "There is nothing in Lou's +nature out of which you could make a heroine of tragedy. After the first +shock of that night was over she was just the commonplace little body +she was before, and could not help showing how fond she was of her old +lover. But she quietly refused to ever see him again."</p> + +<p>"Merrick went abroad three years ago," interposed her husband. "I'll let +you into a secret, Floyd. I've determined there shall be an end of this +folly. I have heard from him that he will be at home next week, and is +as firm as ever in his resolve to marry Miss Waring. I brought her here +so that she could not avoid meeting him. Now if you, Floyd, could only +manage—could look into this matter before the meeting, and set it to +rights, clear the poor child of this wretched suspicion that hangs about +her? Well, now you know why I have told you the story."</p> + +<p>"You have certainly a sublime faith in Mr. Floyd's skill," said Scheffer +with a disagreeable laugh. "I wish him success." He rose with +difficulty, and wrapping his shawl about him, went feebly out of the +room.</p> + +<p>"William is soured through his long illness," Beardsley hastened to say +apologetically. "And he cared more for Lou than I supposed. We were +wrong to bring him in this morning"; and he hurried out to help him up +the stairs. Mrs. Beardsley laid down her knitting, and glanced +cautiously about her. I saw that the vital point of her testimony had +been omitted until now.</p> + +<p>"I think it but right to tell you—nobody has ever heard it +before"—coming close to me, her old face quite pale. "When I undressed +Louisa that night her shoes and stockings were stained, and a long +reddish hair clung to her sleeve. <i>She had trodden over the bloody +ground and handled the murdered man.</i>"</p> + +<p>Every professional man will understand me when I say I was glad to hear +this. Hitherto the girl's whim and the murder appeared to me two events +connected only by the accident of occurrence on the same day. Now there +was but one mystery to solve.</p> + +<p>Whatever success I have had in my practice has been due to my habit of +boldly basing my theories upon the known character of the parties +implicated, and not upon more palpable accidental circumstances. Left to +myself now, I speedily resolved this case into a few suppositions, +positive to me as facts. The girl had been present at the murder. She +was not naturally reticent: was instead an exceptionally confiding, +credulous woman. Her motive for silence, therefore, must have been a +force brought to bear on her at the time of the murder stronger than her +love for Merrick, and which was still existing and active. Her refusal +to meet her lover I readily interpreted to be a fear of her own +weakness—dread lest she should betray this secret to him. Might not her +refusal to marry him be caused by the same fear? some crushing disgrace +or misery which threatened her through the murder, and which she feared +to bring upon her husband? The motive I had guessed to be strong as her +love: what if it were her love? Having stepped from surmise to surmise +so far, I paused to strengthen my position by the facts. There were but +two ways in which this murder could have prevented her marriage—through +Merrick's guilt or her own. His innocence was proven; hers I did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +doubt after I had again carefully studied her face. Concealed guilt +leaves its secret signature upon the mouth and eye in lines never to be +mistaken by a man who has once learned to read them.</p> + +<p>Were there but these two ways? There was a third, more probable than +either—<i>fear</i>. At the first presentation of this key to the riddle the +whole case mapped itself out before me. The murderer had sealed her lips +by some threat. He was still living, and she was in daily expectation of +meeting him. She had never seen his face, but had reason to believe him +of her own class. (This supposition I based on her quick, terrified +inspection of every man's face who approached her.) Now what threat +could have been strong enough to keep a weak girl silent for years, and +to separate her from her lover on their wedding day? I knew women well +enough to say, none against herself; the threat I believed hung over +Merrick's head, and would be fulfilled if she betrayed the secret or +married him, which, with a weak, loving woman, was equivalent, as any +man would know, to betrayal.</p> + +<p>I cannot attempt to make the breaks in this reasoning solid ground for +my readers; it was solid ground for me.</p> + +<p>The next morning Beardsley met me on leaving the breakfast table. He +held a letter open in his hand, and looked annoyed and anxious.</p> + +<p>"Here's a note from Merrick. He sailed a week sooner than he +expected—has left New York, and will be here to-night. If I had only +put the case in your hands earlier! I had a hope that you could clear +the little girl. But it's too late. She'll take flight as soon as she +hears he is coming. Scheffer says it's a miserable, bloody muddle, and +that I was wrong to stir it up."</p> + +<p>"I do not agree with Dr. Scheffer," I said quietly. "I am going now to +the library. In half an hour send Miss Waring to me."</p> + +<p>"You have not yet been presented to her?"</p> + +<p>"So much the better. I wish her to regard me as a lawyer simply. State +to her as formally as you choose who I am, and that I desire to see her +on business."</p> + +<p>I seated myself in the library; placed pen and ink, and some +legal-looking documents, selected at random, before me. Red tape and the +formal pomp of law constitute half its force with women and men of +Louisa's calibre. I had hardly arranged myself and my materials when the +door slowly opened, and she entered. She was alarmed, yet wary. To see a +naturally hearty, merry little body subjected for years to this nervous +strain, with a tragic idea forced into a brain meant to be busied only +with dress, cookery, or babies, appeared to me a pitiful thing.</p> + +<p>"Miss Waring?" reducing the ordinary courtesies to a curt, grave nod. +"Be seated, if you please." I turned over my papers slowly, and then +looked up at her. I had, I saw, none of the common feminine shrewdness +to deal with; need expect no subtle devices of concealment; no clever +doublings; nothing but the sheer obstinacy which is an unintellectual +woman's one resource. I would ignore it and her—boldly assume full +possession of the ground at the first word.</p> + +<p>"My errand to this house, Miss Waring, is in part the investigation of a +murder in 1854, of which you were the sole witness—that of Houston +Simms——"</p> + +<p>I stopped. The change in her face appalled me. She had evidently not +expected so direct an attack. In fact, Beardsley told me afterward that +it was the first time the subject had been broached to her in plain +words. However, she made no reply, and I proceeded in the same formal +tone:</p> + +<p>"I shall place before you the facts which are in my possession, and +require your assent to such as are within your knowledge. On the +afternoon of Tuesday, October 5, 1854, Houston Simms left the Pine +Valley station, carrying a valise containing a large sum of money. +You——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>She had been sitting on the other side of the table, looking steadily at +me. She rose now. She wore a blue morning dress, with lace ruffles and +other little fooleries in which women delight, and I remember being +shocked with the strange contrast between this frippery and the +speechless dread and misery of her face. She gained control of her voice +with difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Who has said that I was a witness of the murder?" she gasped. "I always +explained that I was in another part of the wood. I went to aunty +Huldah——"</p> + +<p>"Pray do not interrupt me, Miss Waring. I am aware that you were the +witness—the sole witness—in this matter." (She did not contradict me. +I was right in my first guess—she had been alone with the murderer.) +"On returning from your nurse's cabin you left the direct path and +followed the sound of angry voices to the gorge by Mill's spring——"</p> + +<p>"I did not go to play the spy. He lied when he said that," she cried +feebly. "I heard the steps, and thought Colonel Merrick had come to +search for me."</p> + +<p>"That matters nothing. You saw the deed done. The old man was killed, +and then robbed, in your sight"—I came toward her, and lowered my voice +to a stern, judicial whisper, while the poor girl shrank back as though +I were law itself uttering judgment upon her. If she had known what +stagy guesswork it all was! "When you were discovered, the murderer +would have shot you to insure your silence."</p> + +<p>"I wish he had! It was Thad who would have done that. The white man's +way was more cruel—oh, God knows it was more cruel!"</p> + +<p>(There were two then.) I was very sorry for the girl, but I had a keen +pleasure in the slow unfolding of the secret, just as I suppose the +physician takes delight in the study of a new disease, even if it kills +the patient.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said with emphasis. "I believe that it would have been less +suffering for you, Miss Waring, to have died then than to have lived, +forced as you were to renounce your lover, and to carry about with you +the dread of the threat made by those men."</p> + +<p>"I have not said there was a threat made. I have betrayed nothing." She +had seated herself some time before by the table. There was a large +bronze inkstand before her, and as she listened she arranged a half +dozen pens evenly on the rest. The words she heard and spoke mattered +more to her than life or death; her features were livid as those of a +corpse, yet her hands went on with their mechanical work—one pen did +not project a hair's breadth beyond the other. We lawyers know how +common such puerile, commonplace actions are in the supreme moments of +life, and how seldom men wring their hands, or use tragic gesture, or +indeed words.</p> + +<p>"No, you have betrayed nothing," I said calmly. "Your self-control has +been remarkable, even when we remember that you believed your confession +would be followed by speedy vengeance, not on your head, but Colonel +Merrick's."</p> + +<p>She looked up not able to speak for a minute. "You—you know all?"</p> + +<p>"Not all, but enough to assure you that your time of suffering is over. +You can speak freely, unharmed."</p> + +<p>Her head dropped on the table. She was crying, and, I think, praying.</p> + +<p>"You saw Houston Simms killed by two men, one of whom, the negro Thad, +you knew. The white man's face was covered. You did not recognize him. +But he knew you, and the surest way to compel you to silence. I wish you +now to state to me all the details of this man's appearance, voice, and +manner, to show me any letters which you have received from him since" +(a random guess, which I saw hit the mark)—"in short, every +circumstance which you can recall about him."</p> + +<p>She did not reply.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Waring, you need have no fear on Colonel Merrick's +ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>count. The law has taken this matter out of your hands. Colonel +Merrick is protected by the law."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I did not understand," meekly.</p> + +<p>To be brief, she told me the whole story. When she reached the spring +she had found the old man bleeding and still breathing. He died in her +arms. The men, who had gone back into the laurel to open the valise, +came back upon her. The negro was a desperate character, well known in +the county. He had died two years later. The other man was masked and +thoroughly disguised. He had stopped the negro when he would have killed +her, and after a few minutes' consultation had whispered to him the +terms upon which she was allowed to escape.</p> + +<p>"You did not hear the white man's voice?"</p> + +<p>"Not once."</p> + +<p>"Bring me the letters you have received from him."</p> + +<p>She brought two miserably spelled and written scrawls on soiled bits of +paper. It was the writing of an educated man, poorly disguised. He +threatened to meet her speedily, warned her that he had spies constantly +about her.</p> + +<p>"That is all the evidence you can give me?"</p> + +<p>"All." She rose to go. I held the door open for her, when she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"There was something more—a mere trifle."</p> + +<p>"Yes. But most likely the one thing that I want."</p> + +<p>"I returned to the spring again and again for months afterward. People +thought I was mad. I may have been; but I found there one day a bit of +reddish glass with a curious mark on it."</p> + +<p>"You have it here?"</p> + +<p>She brought it to me. It was a fragment of engraved sardonyx, apparently +part of a seal; the upper part of a head was cut upon it; the short +hairs curving forward on the low forehead showed that the head was that +of Hercules.</p> + +<p>Some old recollection rose in my brain, beginning, as I may say, to +gnaw uncertainly. I went to my room for a few minutes to collect myself, +and then sought Beardsley.</p> + +<p>He was pacing up and down the walk to the stables, agitated as though he +had been the murderer.</p> + +<p>"Well, Floyd, well! What chance is there? What have you discovered?"</p> + +<p>"Everything. One moment. I have a question or two to ask you. About ten +years ago you commissioned me to buy for you in New York a seal—an +intaglio of great value—a head of Hercules, as I remember. What did you +do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Gave it to Job Scheffer, William's father. Will has it now, though I +think it is broken."</p> + +<p>"Very well. What have Dr. Scheffer's habits been, by the way? Was he as +fond of turning the cards as the other young fellows?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, poor boy! There was a rumor some years ago that he was +frightfully involved in Baltimore—that it would ruin the old man, in +fact, to clear off his debts of honor. But it died out. I suppose +William found some way of straightening them out."</p> + +<p>"Probably. Where is Dr. Scheffer now? I have a message for him."</p> + +<p>"In his room. But this matter of Louisa Waring——"</p> + +<p>"Presently. Have patience."</p> + +<p>I went up to the young man's room. After all, the poor wretch was dying, +and to compel him to blast his own honorable name seemed but brutal +cruelty. I had to remember the poor girl's wasted face and hopeless eyes +before I could summon courage to open the door after I had knocked. I +think he expected me, and knew all that I had to say. A man in health +would soon have known that I was acting on surmise, and defied me to the +proof. Scheffer, I fancied, had been creeping through life for years +with death in two shapes pursuing him, step by step. He yielded, cowed +submissive at the first touch, and only pleaded feebly for mercy.</p> + +<p>The negro had been his body servant—knew his desperate straits, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +dragged him into the crime. Then, he had loved Louisa: he was maddened +by her approaching marriage. The scheme of ensuring her silence and +driving Merrick away was the inspiration of a moment, and had succeeded. +He only asked for mercy. His time was short. He could not live beyond a +few weeks. I would not bring him to the gallows.</p> + +<p>I was merciful, and I think was right to be so. His deposition was taken +before his uncle, Mr. Beardsley, who was a magistrate, and two other men +of position and weight in the community. It was to be kept secret until +after his death, and then made public. He was removed at once to his +father's house.</p> + +<p>On Colonel Merrick's arrival that evening, this deposition was formally +read to him. I do not think it impressed him very much. He was resolved +to marry Miss Waring in spite of every obstacle.</p> + +<p>"But I never would have married you unless the truth had been +discovered—never," she said to him that evening as they stood near me +in the drawing-room. Her cheeks were warm, and her dark eyes full of +tender light. I thought her a very lovely woman.</p> + +<p>"Then I owe you to Mr. Floyd after all?" he said, looking down at her +fondly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose so," with a shrug. "But he is a very disagreeable person! +Cast-iron, you know. I am so thankful <i>you</i> are not a lawyer, Paul."</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">James M. Floyd.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ROMANCE" id="ROMANCE"></a>ROMANCE.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I would I were mighty, victorious,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">A monarch of steel and of gold—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I would I were one of the glorious</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Divinities hallowed of old—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A god of the ancient sweet fashion</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Who mingled with women and men,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A deity human in passion,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Transhuman in strength and in ken.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For then I could render the pleasure</span><br /> +<span class="i2">I win from the sight of your face;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">For then I could utter my treasure</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of homage and thanks for your grace;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I could dower, illumine, and gladden,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Could rescue from perils and tears,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And my speech could vibrate and madden</span><br /> +<span class="i2">With eloquence worthy your ears.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You meet me: you smile and speak kindly;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">One minute I marvel and gaze,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Idolatrous, worshipping blindly,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Yet mindful of decorous ways.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">You pass; and the glory is ended,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Though lustres and sconces may glow:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The goddess who made the scene splendid</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Has vanished; and darkly I go.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You know not how swiftly you mounted</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The throne in the depths of my eyes;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">You care not how meekly I counted</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Those moments for pearls of the skies;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or, knowing it, all is forgotten</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The moment I pass from your sight—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Consigned to the fancies begotten</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of chaos and slumber and night.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I—I remember your glances,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Your carelessest gesture and word,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And out of them fashion romances</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Man never yet uttered nor heard;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Romances too splendid for mortals,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Too sweet for a planet of dole;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Romances which open the portals</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of Eden, and welcome my soul.</span><br /> +</div></div> + + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">J. W. DeForest.</span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BEER" id="BEER"></a>BEER.</h2> + + +<p>Poets, in every age since the time of Anacreon, have sung odes in praise +of wine. The greatest bards of every clime have sought inspiration in +its sparkling depths. But the poet, even German, is yet unborn, who, +moved by sweet memories of the nectar of his fatherland, shall chant in +rhyme the virtues of his national drink. Yet though its merit has +inspired neither of the sister graces, poetry and song, to strike the +lyre in its honor, it has had, none the less, an important mission to +perform. To its plebeian sister beer, as a healthful beverage, wine must +yield the palm. As a common drink, suited to human nature's daily need, +it has never been surpassed. If it has nerved no hand to deeds of +daring, or struck the scintillating sparks of genius from the human +brain, it has added immensely to the health, long life, and happiness of +many nations, and is destined to still greater triumphs, as life becomes +studied more from a hygienic standpoint.</p> + +<p>Beer is believed to have been invented by the Egyptians, and is of +almost universal use; the zone of the cereals being more extended than +that of the grape. Greek writers before Christ mention a drink composed +of barley, under the name of <i>zythos</i>. This beverage was not unknown to +the Romans, and we find it first mentioned by the historian Tacitus. By +the nations of the West it was regarded as a nourishing drink for poor +people. They prepared it from honey and wheat. Among the ancient Germans +and Scandinavians, however, beer was in former times the national +beverage, and was prepared from barley, wheat, or oats, with the +addition of oak bark, and later of hops.</p> + +<p>The ancients put bitter herbs in beer, and the present use of hops is in +imitation. Modern beer was born at the time of Charlemagne, an epoch at +which hops were first cultivated. The earliest writing in which one +finds mention of hops as an aroma to beer is in a parchment of St. +Hildegarde, abbess of the convent of St. Rupert, at Bingen on the Rhine. +The art of fabricating beer remained for a long time a privilege of +convents. The priests drank Pater's beer, while the lighter or convent +beer was used by the laity. Although beer has been manufactured of all +the cereals, barley only can be called its true and legitimate father.</p> + +<p>Bavaria and Franconia were already in the fourteenth century celebrated +for their excellent beer, and the German cities, of which each one soon +had its own brewery, vied with their predecessors. In the fifteenth and +sixteenth centuries the Upper and Lower Saxony breweries became well +known. The Braunschweiger, Einbeker, Göttinger, Bremer, and Hamburger +beer, as well as the breweries of the cities of Würzen, Zwickau, Torgau, +Merseburg, and Goslar, were far and wide celebrated. Bavarian beer has +long made the tour of the world. Bock beer from Bavaria and from the +Erzgebirge is exported to Java and China.</p> + +<p>German lager beer, as a healthy and lightly stimulating beverage, is +welcome in both hot and cold countries. It is liked as well by the +Russians and Scandinavians as by the inhabitants of the tropics. It is +brewed by Germans in all parts of the globe—in Valenciennes, Antwerp, +Madrid, Constantinople, and even in Australia, Chili, and Brazil.</p> + +<p>The English commenced later than the Germans to make beer. In 1524, +however, they not only brewed beer, but used hops in its fabrication.</p> + +<p>The Greek and Latin races, which drank wine, had but little taste for +beer, which divided them from the Germanic races as a sharp boundary.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +Beer and wine seem to have had an influence in forming the temperament +of these widely differing races. While wine excites the nervous system, +beer tranquillizes and calms it. The action of a particular kind of +daily drink, used for centuries, must in this respect have been more or +less potent. Hence, perhaps, the Teuton's phlegm and the Gaul's +excitability.</p> + +<p>There may be said to be three principal types of beer—the Bavarian, +Belgian, and English. The Bavarian is obtained by the infusion or +decoction of sprouted barley; then by the fermentation of deposit, in +tubs painted internally with resin. The varieties most appreciated are +the Bock and Salvator beers. The beers of Belgium have the special +character of being prepared by spontaneous fermentation, and the process +is therefore slow. The principal varieties are the Lambick, the Faro, +the March beer, and the Uytzd. In the English beer the must is prepared +by simple infusion and the fermentation is superficial. On account of +its great alcoholic richness it is easily conserved. The ale, the +porter, and the stout are the chief varieties of English beer, which +differ among themselves only by the diverse proportion of their +ingredients and the different degrees of torrefaction of the barley, +rendering it more or less brown. In France only the superficial method +of fermentation is employed. In a litre of Strasburg beer one finds 5 +1-4 grammes of albumen, 45 grammes of alcohol, and .091 of salts. The +ordinary Bavarian beer contains three per cent. of alcohol and six and a +half per cent. of nourishing extracts. The beers the most sticky to the +touch are the heaviest in volume and the most nutritious. It is +historical that in very olden days the Munich city fathers tried the +goodness of the beer by pouring it out on a bench and then sitting down +in their leather inexpressibles, and approved of it only when they +remained glued to the seat.</p> + +<p>In Nuremberg there is a school of brewers, where one may learn all the +mysteries of beer brewing. Certain breweries, however, pretend to +possess secrets pertaining to the art known exclusively to them. For +example, one family near Leipsic is said to have possessed for a century +the secret which chemistry has tried in vain to discover, of making the +famous Gose beer.</p> + +<p>"Good beer," says Dr. Paolo Mantegazza, a celebrated Italian writer on +medicine, "is certainly one of the most healthy of alcoholic drinks. The +bitter tonic, the richness of the alimentary principle which it +contains, and its digestibility make it a real liquid food, which, for +many temperaments, is medicine. The English beer, which is stronger in +spirit than some wines, never produces on the stomach that union of +irritating phenomena vulgarly called heat, and for this reason beer is +often tolerated by the most weak and irritable persons, and can be drunk +with advantage in grave diseases."<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> Laveran, a French physician, +counsels it for consumptives, and for nervous thin people in the most +diverse climates.</p> + +<p>In the intoxication by beer there is always more or less stupidity. Beer +is by no means favorable to <i>l'esprit</i>. It is doubtful if it has ever +inspired the great poets or the profound thinkers who make Germany, in +science, the leading country in Europe. Reich, Voigt, and many great +writers have launched their anathemas against it. As a stimulant beer is +less potent than wine or tea and coffee. The forces of soldiers have +never been sustained on a fatiguing march, nor can they be incited to a +battle, by plentiful libations of beer. During the late French-Prussian +war nearly every provision train which left Bavaria carried supplies of +beer to the Bavarian troops. It was found very favorable for the +convalescent soldiers in the hospitals, but inferior to coffee or wine +as a stimulant on the eve of battle.</p> + +<p>The old chroniclers of Bavaria relate this curious tale of the origin of +the celebrated bock beer. There was one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>day in olden times at the table +of the Duke of Bavaria, as guest, a Brunswick nobleman. Now there had +long prevailed at the court the custom of presenting to noble guests, +after the meal, a beaker of the Bavarian barley juice, not without a +warning as to its strength. The Brunswicker received the usual cup, +emptied it at a draught, and pronounced it excellent. "But," he +continued, "such barley juice as we brew at home in Brunswick is +equalled by no other. Our Mumme is the king of beers, so that the +bravest drinker cannot take two beakers of it without sinking under the +table." The duke listened with displeasure to the haughty words of the +knight, for he was not a little proud of the brewings of his country, +and commanded his cup-bearer, with a meaning look, to challenge him.</p> + +<p>"By your leave, Sir Knight," replied the page, "what you say is not +quite true. If it pleases you and my lord Duke, I should like to lay a +wager with you."</p> + +<p>The duke nodded assent, and the knight, smiling scornfully, challenged +the cup-bearer to pledge him.</p> + +<p>"Your Brunswick Mumme," continued the page, "may pass as a refreshing +drink; but with our beer you cannot compare it, for the best of our +brewings is unknown to you. In case, however, you please again to make +your appearance at the hospitable court of my gracious lord, I will +promise you a beaker of beer which cannot be equalled in any other +country of united Christendom. I will drink the greatest bumper that can +be found in our court of your Mumme at one draught, if you can take of +our beer, even slowly, three beakers. He who a half hour afterward can +stand on one leg and thread a needle shall win the wager, and receive +from the other a mighty cask of Tokayer Rebensafte."</p> + +<p>This speech received loud applause, and the Brunswicker laughingly +accepted the challenge.</p> + +<p>After the knight had departed the duke tapped the page on the shoulder +and said, "Take care that thou dost not repent thy word, and that the +Brunswicker does not win the wager."</p> + +<p>The first morning in May the Brunswicker rode into the castle and was +welcomed by the duke. All eyes were turned on the cup-bearer, who +shortly afterward appeared with a suite of pages carrying on a bier two +little casks, one bearing the Bavarian arms and the other those of +Brunswick. The right to give to the contents of the former a particular +name was reserved to the duke. The page produced likewise a monstrous +silver bumper and three beakers of the ordinary size. It was long before +the bumper was filled to the rim, and then it required two men to raise +it to the table. In the mean time another page placed the three beakers +before the knight, who could not suppress a sarcastic laugh at the huge +bumper which the page, taking in his strong arms, placed to his lips. As +the knight emptied the last beaker the cup-bearer turned down the +bumper. Two needles and a bundle of silk lay on the table. It wanted a +few moments of the half hour, and the Brunswicker ran toward the garden +for fresh air. Hardly arrived in the court, a peculiar swimming of the +head seized him, so that he fell to the ground. A servant saw him from +the window, and hastened out, followed by the court, with the duke in +advance. There lay the Brunswicker, and tried in vain to rise.</p> + +<p>"By all the saints, Herr Ritter, what has thrown you in the sand?" +inquired the duke sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"The bock, the bock" (the goat, the goat), murmured the knight with a +heavy tongue.</p> + +<p>A burst of sarcastic laughter echoed in the courtyard. In the mean time +the page stood on one foot, and without swaying threaded the needle.</p> + +<p>"The bock, the bock," repeated the duke smiling. "Our beer is no longer +without a name. It shall be called bock, that one may take care."</p> + +<p>The bock season lasts about six<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> weeks, from May into June. Just before +it commences a transparency of a goat, drinking from a tall, slender +glass, is placed as a sign before certain beer locals, called in Munich +dialect bock stalls, not because goats are kept there, but because +wonderful beer, called bock, is dispensed.</p> + +<p>He who has not lived in Bavaria can have no idea of what importance beer +is in Bavarian life. There are in Munich Germans who exist only for +beer, and there have been pointed out to me old gentlemen who have +frequented daily the same local for twenty-five or thirty years, and +even occupied the same seat, and pounded the same table, by way of +enforcing their views, in discussing the politics of the day. They are +called <i>Stammgäste</i> (literally stock guests), and are much honored in +their respective locals.</p> + +<p>The greatest personages do not disdain the meanest locals, provided the +beer is good and to their taste. Naked pine tables do not disgust them, +nor the hardest benches. Often on the table skins of radishes, crusts of +bread, cigar stumps, tobacco ashes, herring heads, and cheese rinds form +a fragrant <i>mélange</i>. The inheritors of this precious legacy push it +away without undue irritability. Radishes are carried about by old women +called <i>radi-weibers</i>, who do a thriving business besides in nuts and +herrings. One cannot find in any other country of the world radishes of +such size, tenderness, and flavor—a brown variety inherited by the +happy Müncheners with their breweries. Nowhere else does cutting and +salting them rank as an art. To prepare one scientifically they pare it +carefully, slit it in three slices nearly to the end, place salt on the +top, and draw the finger over it, as if it were a pack of cards. The +salt falls between the slices, and when they are pressed together +becomes absorbed.</p> + +<p>In a German <i>Bier Local</i> are represented all classes of society. Beer is +the great leveller of social distinctions. The foaming glass of King +Gambrinus unites all Germans of all states, climates, and professions +in a closer brotherhood than the sceptre of the Hohenzollerns, and links +that portion of the Teutonic race over which the stars and stripes +throws its protecting folds to the dear fatherland.</p> + +<p>Fine wines are a perquisite of money. The fortunate aristocrat and the +house of Israel, which everywhere waxes fat on the needs of travellers, +may sip their champagne, their Lachrymæ Christi, and their Hockheimer, +while less favored humanity contents itself with sour <i>vin ordinaire</i>; +but beer is the same for all, and in some breweries each one must search +for a glass, rinse it, and present himself in his turn at the shank +window, to which there is no royal road. "La bière," which a great +writer calls "ce vin de la réforme," is essentially a democratic drink. +It became popular at a time when a fatal blow had been struck at class +privileges and priestly exclusiveness.</p> + +<p>Manfully does a true-hearted Bavarian stand by his brewery, in ill as +well as good report. If the beer turns out badly, he does not find it a +sufficient reason to desert his local for some other, but rather remains +with touching devotion, and anticipates the approaching end of the old +beer and the advent of new, with implicit trust and confidence in the +future. Some years ago the Bavarian post and railway conductors +distinguished themselves by the mournful zeal with which they notified +to the passengers the nearing of the frontier. At each station they were +sorrowfully communicative.</p> + +<p>"The last Bairischer<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> but four, gentlemen! Gentlemen, there are only +two more real Bairischers! Gentlemen," with tears in the voice, "the +last Bairischer."</p> + +<p>The passengers rushed to the buffet and drank.</p> + +<p>Even now, with that curious affection with which every Bavarian's heart +turns to his Mecca of beer, the salutation to a stranger is, "Are you +going <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>to Munich? <i>Da werden sie gutes Bier trinken.</i>"<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + +<p>"You came from Munich! <i>Ach!</i> <i>da haben sie gutes Bier getrunken.</i>"<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a></p> + +<p>Even in Beerland there are different kinds of beer, like the federal +union, one in many and many in one. Between them are sometimes +irreconcilable differences, as for example, between the white and +Actiens beer of Berlin. The former is made of wheat, and is exclusively +a summer beverage, and a glass of it is fondly termed a "kleine Weisse" +(a little white one), perhaps in irony, for it is served in excentric +mammoth tumblers, which require both hands to lift.</p> + +<p>Then there is the Vienna beer, the antipodes of the Bavarian. The latter +must be drunk soon after it is made, while the former must lie many +months in the cellar before it is ready for use. In Austria, that +forcible union of States of clashing interests and nationalities, which +is not a nation, but only a government reposing on bayonets, the +population is divided between the partisans of King Gambrinus and those +of Bacchus.</p> + +<p>As little as an artist could maintain that he was familiar with the +works of the great masters when he had not visited Italy, so little +could a beer drinker assert that he had seen beer rightly drunk when he +had not been in Munich. All over the world beer is regarded as a +refreshment, but in Munich it is the elixir of life, the fabled fountain +of youth and happiness. It is looked upon as nourishment by the lower +classes, who drink for dinner two <i>masses</i><a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> of it, with soup and black +bread. For the price of the beer they could procure a good portion of +meat, but they universally maintain that they are best nourished with +beer and bread.</p> + +<p>The Bavarian drinks to satisfy his "thirst, that beautiful German gift +of God." If he is healthy, he drinks because it keeps his life juices in +their normal state; if he is sick and in pain, because it is a soothing +and harmless narcotic; if he is hungry, because beer is nourishment; if +he has already eaten, because beer promotes digestion; if he is warm, +because it is cooling and refreshing; if he is cold, because it warms +him; if he is fatigued, because it is a tonic and sovereign strength +renewer; if he is angry, because beer soothes him and gives him time to +consider; if he needs courage, because beer is precisely the right +stimulant. Where the Americans fly to their bitters "to tone up the +system and enliven the secretions," the Germans resort to beer; and many +are of opinion that frequent trips to the bock stalls in the spring are +more healing than a visit to Carlsbad or Baden Baden, where one drinks +disgusting water. In all circumstances and all moods they drink and are +comforted.</p> + +<p>The Jews believed that the sacred waves of the Jordan were powerful to +wash away all human suffering, either of the soul or body. Faith was +necessary to this pious healing. To the Münchener beer is the river of +health. His faith in it dates from his earliest infancy, and he resorts +to its beneficent influence at least seven times a day, and drinks his +last <i>Krügl</i> with apparently the same relish as the first. The quantity +which Germans drink is something incredible. Bavarian students usually +take from five to seven masses per day. (At the German Jesuit seminary +in Prague the novices are allowed daily seven, the clericos ten, and the +priests twelve pints of beer.)</p> + +<p>Beer is considered good not only for men, but for women, for girls and +boys, and even unweaned infants.</p> + +<p>"Mein Krügl" the Münchener speaks of as of his natural and human rights. +He was born with a right to his beer, and his <i>Krügl</i>, as "man is born +with a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," and +equally with these the State must look after this right. The krügls, or +beer mugs, of each brewery are inspected by the police, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> see if the +measure is correct, and if the ware has no poisonous lead in its +composition. The royal K is stamped on them by the King's authority. The +police also examine the contents of the beer with the same zeal as the +water or the condition of the sewers.</p> + +<p>The Germans as a nation are patient of wrong and peace-loving, but the +rumor of a tax on beer raises a frightful commotion, and a riot is often +the consequence. As well tax air, water, and fire as beer, the fifth +element.</p> + +<p>In an ancient neighborhood of Munich, behind the post, and best entered +from Maximilian street, is a little square remarkable for its ugliness. +All the houses are old, and one feels upon entering it as if one had +suddenly walked back into the middle ages. On the east side stands a +time-gray, low, irregular building, resembling in architecture, or by +its want of it, nothing of the present age. This is the royal Hof +Brauerei. After 10 <span class="smcap">A. M.</span> a constant stream of thirsty souls flows along +the streets and narrow alleys leading toward its dismal-looking portals. +Its beer is celebrated as being the finest in the world, and is the +standard by which all other beers are judged. It is the poetry of beer; +it is to all other brewings what Shakespeare is to the drama; what the +Coliseum is to other antiquities. None of the beer is exported or sold; +it is all drunk on the spot, and when it gives out no other brewery can +supply a drop comparable with it. The Parisians, who have heaped every +luxury, from the poles to the tropics, in their capital of the world, +have not enough money in the Bank of France to purchase a cask of it. It +is said that Maximilian II. resolved that the best beer in the world +should be made at the royal brewery in Munich. It has never been +expected that it would yield any revenue, but merely pay its expenses. +It is now under the protection of the present King, and the ingredients +are inspected by an officer of the royal household.</p> + +<p>For its dirt, its darkness, and its utter want of service, the Hof +Brauerei is unequalled in the world, and nowhere else can be found such +a mixed society. Entering the low-vaulted room, each one looks anxiously +about for an empty mug. These are of gray stone, containing a mass, the +price of which is seven and a half kreutzers. Spying one, he hastens to +secure it from other competitors. The first who reaches it carries it +off in triumph to the spring in the anteroom, rinses it, and presents +himself behind a queue of predecessors at the shank window, where +several pairs of hands are occupied all day long in filling mugs from +the great casks within. This accomplished, he returns to the guest room +and searches for a seat. If found, it is certainly not luxurious—a +wooden bench of pine, stained by time and continual use to a dark dirt +color, behind an ancient table. The walls and ceiling are grim with age, +and the atmosphere hazy with smoke. The scene baffles description. All +classes of society are represented. Side by side with the noble or +learned professor, one sees the poorest artisan and the common soldier. +Here and there the picturesque face of an artist is in close proximity +to a peasant, and through the smoky atmosphere one catches the gleam of +the scarlet or sky-blue cap of a German student, or the glitter of an +epaulette. The Catholic of the most ultramontane stamp is there, as well +as the Jew, the Protestant, and the freethinker. Here stands a pilgrim +from far America, armed with a Bädeker, and there an Englishman with the +inevitable Murray under his arm, too amazed or disdainful to search for +a mass. Remarkable also are the steady habitués of the place, with +Albert Dürer-like features which look as if hastily hewn out of ancient +wood with two or three blows of a hatchet, or with smoke-dried +physiognomies having a tint like that of a meerschaum pipe, acquired by +years of exposure to the thick atmosphere of smoky breweries. They are +there morning, noon, and night, year in and year out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> Some talk over +the news of the day, but most sit in silence. Not a few make a meal with +bread and radishes, or a sausage brought from the nearest pork shop.</p> + +<p>In Munich a singular and ancient custom prevails. If by chance the cover +of a mug is left up, any individual who chooses may seize it, and drink +the contents. At the Hof Brauerei I once saw a newly arrived Englishman, +carrying the usual red guidebook, quit the room for an instant, leaving +uncovered his just acquired mass of beer. There came along a +seedy-looking old gentleman, evidently a <i>Stammgast</i>. A gleam of +satisfaction stole over his wooden features as he espied the open mug. +Pausing a moment, he lifted it to his lips and slowly drank the +contents. Setting it down empty, with a face mildly radiating +satisfaction, he went his way. Presently the owner of the beer returned, +took his seat, and lifted the mass, without looking, to his lips. With +intense astonishment he put it down again, appeared not to believe the +evidence of his senses, applied his glass to his eye, looked with +anxiety into his mug, and became satisfied of its emptiness. At his +neighbors he cast a quick glance of indignant suspicion—the look of a +Briton whose rights were invaded. No one even looked up; apparently the +occasion was too common to excite attention. Gradually his face regained +its composure. He procured a new supply, and as the wonderful barley +juice disappeared became again calm and happy. Miraculous mixture! Who +would not, under thy benign influence, forget all rancor and bitterness, +even though his deadliest enemy sat opposite?</p> + +<p>In the Haupt und Residenz Stadt München, as Munich is always called in +official documents, many of the breweries bear the names of orders of +monks, because there the friars in olden days made particularly good +beer. The breweries borrowed from them the receipt and the name. Hence +the brewery to the Augustiner, to the Dominikaner, to the Franciskaner, +and the Salvator.</p> + +<p>New beer is in all cities of America and Europe a simple fact. In Munich +it is an important public and private family event, concerning each +house as well as the entire city.</p> + +<p>The opening of the Salvator brewery in the suburbs of Munich, for its +brief season of a month in the spring, assumes for the inhabitants the +importance of a long anticipated holiday. Thither an eager crowd of +townspeople make pilgrimage. I was present on one of these auspicious +occasions, and found a joyous multitude of more than two thousand +persons, filling to overflowing the capacious building gayly trimmed +with evergreens interspersed with the national colors. A band discoursed +excellent music, that necessary element, without which no German scene +is complete. The waiters, more than usually adroit in supplying the +wants of the crowd, carried in their hands fourteen glasses at a time +with professional dexterity. The peculiar delicacy of the occasion, +aside from the beer, seemed to be cheese, plentifully sprinkled with +black pepper.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening the people became more excited and sympathetic, and +then it was proposed to sing "Herr Fisher," a popular German song of the +people. A verse was sung by a few voices as a solo; then followed a +mighty chorus from all the persons present. Each one raised the cover of +his beer mug at the commencement, and let it fall with a clang at the +close of the chorus, with startling effect.</p> + +<p>In Munich one-half of the inhabitants appear to be engaged in the +fabrication of beer and the entire population in drinking it. It +impresses one as being the only industry there. The enormous brewery +wagons, drawn by five Norman horses, are ever to be seen. On the trains +going from the city there is ordinarily a beer car painted in festive +white. It bears an inscription,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> that none may mistake its contents, and +perhaps that the peasants may bless it as it passes. It is looked upon +with as much reverence as if it bore the ark of the covenant.</p> + +<p>All over Germany, among the most ordinary of birthday or holiday +presents are the elegantly painted porcelain tops for beer glasses. The +works of great masters may be found copied in exquisite style for this +purpose, as well as illustrations suited to uncultivated tastes. To +these pictures there are appropriate mottoes, and often a verse adapted +to the comprehension of the most uneducated peasant. A favorite among +the Bavarians, judging from the frequency with which it is met with in +all parts of Bavaria, represents a peasant in a balcony waving her +kerchief to her lover, departing in a little skiff, on an intensely blue +sea. Beneath, in patois, is the doggerel:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beautifully blue is the sea,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">But my heart aches in me,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And my heart will never recover</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Till returns my peasant lover.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Equally a favorite is the following:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A rifle to shoot,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And a fighting ring to hit,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And a maiden to kiss,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Must a lively boy have.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>The rings to which the rhyme refers are of huge size, of silver, with a +sharp-edged square of the same metal. They are heirlooms among the +peasants, and are worn on the middle finger. It is the custom in a +quarrel to hit one's adversary with the <i>Stozzring</i> on the cheek, which +it tears open.</p> + +<p>In Germany many of the great breweries have summer gardens in the +suburbs of the cities. In Berlin there are magnificent <i>Biergärten</i>, +where the two most necessary elements of German existence, beer and +music, are united. I need only refer to the Hof Jäger, with its flowers, +fountains, miniature lake, and open-air theatre, where popular comedies +are performed. Three times per week there is an afternoon concert by +one or two regiment bands. Thither the Germans conduct their families. +In the winter there are concert rooms in the cities, where "music is +married," not "to immortal verse," but to beer; and these classical +concerts are patronized by people of high respectability.</p> + +<p>Beer is peculiarly suited to the American temperament, too nervous and +sensitive. It is certain that the human race always has, and probably +always will, resort to beverages more or less stimulating. The preaching +of moralists and the efforts of legislators will not exclude them +permanently from our use. It is not in the use but in the abuse of these +that the difficulty lies. Neither tea nor coffee answers for all +temperaments and all occasions as nervous aliments. The extraordinary +and increasing diffusion of liquors is one of the social ulcers of +modern society, particularly in America. It is unfortunately true that +the use of strong alcoholics is increasing every day, to the great +detriment of public health and morals. Taken merely to kill time, they +often end by killing the individual.</p> + +<p>One of the great advantages of beer, too much forgotten even by +physicians, is that it reverses the influence of alcohol, by which it +loses its irritating properties on the mucous membrane of the stomach. +The celebrated Dr. Bock (late professor of pathological anatomy in the +university at Leipsic) says, "Beer exercises on the digestion, on the +circulation, on the nerves, and above all on the whole system, a +beneficial effect."<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a></p> + +<p>It would be well if Americans would adopt it instead of the innumerable +harmful beverages which ruin the health and poison the peace of society.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">S. G. Young.</span></p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> "Quadri della Natura Umana."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> The local term in Bavaria for a glass of beer.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> There you will drink good beer.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> There you drank good beer.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> A <i>mass</i> equals fifteen-sixteenths of a quart.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> "Buch vom gesunden und kranken Menschen" (9th edition).</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ON_READING_SHAKESPEARE" id="ON_READING_SHAKESPEARE"></a>ON READING SHAKESPEARE.</h2> + +<h3>PLAYS OF THE THIRD PERIOD.</h3> + + +<p>We have followed Shakespeare's course of dramatic production down to the +time when he began to embody in the work by which he earned his bread +and made his fortune the results of an intuitive knowledge of human +nature and a profound reflection upon it never surpassed, if ever +equalled, and which, even if possessed, have never been united in any +other man with a power of expression so grand, so direct, so strong, and +so subtle. "Twelfth Night," "Henry V.," and "As You Like It" mark the +close of his second period, which ended with the sixteenth century. His +third period opens with "Hamlet," which was written about the year 1600. +But here I will say that the division of his work into periods, and the +assignment of his plays to certain years, is only inferential and +approximative. We are able to determine with an approach to certainty +about what time most of his plays were written; but we cannot fix their +date exactly. Nor is it of very great importance that we should do so. +There are some people who can fret themselves and others as to whether a +play was written in 1600 or in 1601, as there are others who deem the +question whether its author was born on the 23d of April in one year, +and died on the same day of the same month in another, one of great +importance. I cannot so regard it. A few days in the date of a man's +birth or death, a few months in the production of a play—these are +matters surely of very little moment. What is important to the student +and lover of Shakespeare is the order of the production of his works; +and this, fortunately, is determinable with a sufficient approach to +accuracy to enable us to know about at what age he was engaged upon +them, and what changes in his style and in his views of life they +indicate.</p> + +<p>In the first ten years of the seventeenth century, between his +thirty-seventh and forty-seventh year, he produced "Hamlet," "Measure +for Measure," his part of "Pericles," "All's Well that Ends Well," "King +Lear," "Macbeth," "Julius Cæsar," "Antony and Cleopatra," "Troilus and +Cressida," "Cymbeline," "Coriolanus," and "Othello." These, with other +works, were the fruit of his mind in its full maturity and vigor. Think +of it a moment! what a period it was! As my eye lights upon the back of +the eleventh volume of my own edition and the eighth of the Cambridge +edition, and I read "<span class="smcap">Hamlet</span>, <span class="smcap">King Lear</span>, <span class="smcap">Othello</span>," I am moved with a +sense of admiration and wonder which, if I allow it to continue, becomes +almost oppressive; and I also take pleasure in the result of a +convenience of arrangement that brought into one volume these three +marvellous works—the three greatest productions of man's imagination, +each wholly unlike the others in spirit and in motive.</p> + +<p>Although they were not written one after the other, but with an interval +of about five years between them, it would be well to read them +consecutively and in the order above named, which is that in which they +happen to be printed in the first collected edition (1623) of +Shakespeare's plays. They were written—"Hamlet" in 1600-2, "King Lear" +in 1605, and "Othello" about 1610, its date being much more uncertain +than that of either of the others. The thoughtful reader who, having +followed the course previously marked out, now comes to the study of +these tragedies, is prepared to apprehend them justly, not only in their +own greatness, but in their relative position<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> as the product of their +author's mind in its perfected and disciplined maturity—as the splendid +triple crown of Shakespeare's genius. No other dramatist, no other poet, +has given the world anything that can for a moment be taken into +consideration as equal to these tragedies; and Shakespeare himself left +us nothing equal to any one of them, taken as a whole and in detail; +although there are some parts of other late plays—"Macbeth," "Antony +and Cleopatra," "Troilus and Cressida," and "The Tempest"—which, in +their grandeur of imagination and splendor of language, bear the stamp +of this great period.</p> + +<p>And yet such was the merely stage-providing nature of Shakespeare's +work, that even "Hamlet," produced at the very height of his reputation, +is, like the Second and Third Parts of "King Henry VI.," which came from +his 'prentice hand, connected in some way, we do not know exactly what, +with a drama by an elder contemporary upon the same subject. There are +traces in contemporary satirical literature of a "Hamlet" which had been +performed as early as 1589, or possibly two years earlier. It is +remarkable that in the first edition of Shakespeare's "Hamlet" (1603) +Polonius is called Corambis, and Reynaldo, Montano; in which latter +names we may safely assume that we have relics of the old play; and, +although I am sure that in this edition of 1603 we have merely a +mutilated and patched-up version, surreptitiously obtained, and printed +in headlong haste, of the perfected play (in which opinion I differ from +some English scholars, whose learning and judgment I respect, but to +whom I would hold myself ready to prove, under forfeit, to their +satisfaction the correctness of my view); there are also in this +mutilated 1603 edition passages which not only are manifestly not what +Shakespeare wrote, but not even a mutilated form of what he wrote. They +are probably taken from the older play to supply the place of passages +of the new play which could not be obtained in time for the hasty +publication of this pirated edition of Shakespeare's tragedy. Remark, +here, in this hasty and surreptitious edition, evidence of the great +impression suddenly made by Shakespeare's "Hamlet." On its production it +became at once so popular that a piratical publisher was at the trouble +and expense of getting as much of the original as he could by unfair +means, and vamping this up with inferior and older matter to meet the +popular demand for reading copies. There is evidence of a like success +of "King Lear." Since the time when these plays were produced there has +been, we are called upon to believe, a great elevation of general +intelligence, and there surely has been a great diffusion of knowledge; +and yet it may be safely remarked that "Saratoga" and "Pique" and "The +Golden Age," which ran their hundred nights and more, are not quite +equal to "Hamlet" or to "King Lear," which, even with all their success, +did not run anything like a hundred nights; and we may as safely believe +that if "Hamlet" or "King Lear" were produced for the first time this +winter in New York or in London, there would not be such a great and +sudden demand for copies that extraordinary means would be taken by +publishers to supply it. This superiority of the general public taste in +dramatic literature during the Elizabethan era is one of the remarkable +phenomena in literary history; and it is one that remains unaccounted +for, and is, I think, altogether inexplicable, except upon the +assumption that theatres nowadays rely for their support upon a public +of low intellectual grade, and a taste for gross luxury and material +splendor.</p> + +<p>In reading "Hamlet" there is little opportunity of comparing it +instructively with any of its predecessors. Its principal personage is +entirely unlike any other created by Shakespeare. The play is all +Hamlet: the other personages are mere occasions for his presence and +means of his develop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>ment. But Polonius is something the same kind of +man as old Capulet in "Romeo and Juliet;" and although there were +opportunities enough for the noble Veronese father to utter +sententiously the knowledge of the world which he had gained by living +in it, see how comparatively meagre and superficial his "wise saws" are +compared with the counsel that Polonius gives to his son and to his +daughter, and to the King and Queen; although Polonius, with all his +sagacity, is garrulous and a bore; in Hamlet's words, a tedious old +fool. As to Hamlet's character, Shakespeare did not mean it to be +altogether admirable or otherwise, but simply to be Hamlet—a perfectly +natural and not very uncommon man, although he expresses natural and not +uncommon feelings with the marvellous utterance of the great master of +dramatic poetry. And Hamlet's character is not altogether admirable; but +it is therefore none the less, but probably the more, deeply +interesting. How closely packed the play is with profound truths of life +philosophy is shown by the fact that it has contributed not only very +much more—four or five times more—than any other poem of similar +length to the storehouse of adage and familiar phrase, but at least +twice as much as any other of Shakespeare's plays. I know two boys who, +going to see the play for the first time, some years before the +appearance of a like story in the newspapers, came home and did +actually, in the innocence of their hearts, qualify the great admiration +they expressed for it by adding, "but how full it is of quotations." In +fact, about one eighth of this long play has become so familiar to the +world that it is in common use, and is recognized as the best expression +known of the thoughts that it embodies. This, however, is not an +absolute test of excellence, for it is remarkable that "King Lear" is +very much behind it, and also behind "Othello," in this respect; and +indeed there are several plays, including "Macbeth," "Julius Cæsar," +"Henry IV.," "As You Like It," and "The Merchant of Venice," which are +richer than "King Lear" in passages familiarly quoted; and yet as to the +superiority of "King Lear" to the other plays I think there can be no +doubt. It is the greatest tragedy, the greatest dramatic poem, the +greatest book, ever written; so great is it, in fact, so vast in its +style, so lofty in its ideal, that to those who have reflected upon it +and justly apprehended it, it has become unplayable. As well attempt to +score the music of the spheres, or to paint "the fat weed that roots +itself in ease on Lethe wharf." In "King Lear" there is a personage who +may be very instructively compared with others of the same kind by the +student of Shakespeare's mental development. This is the Fool. +Shakespeare's fools or clowns (such as those in "Love's Labor's Lost" +and in "Hamlet") are among the most remarkable evidences of his ability +to make anything serve as the occasion and the mouthpiece of his wit and +his wisdom. He did not make the character; he found it on the stage, and +a favorite with a considerable part of the play-goers. It was, however, +as he found it, a very coarse character, rude as well as gross in +speech, and given to practical joking. He relieved it of all the +rudeness, if not of all the grossness, and reformed the joking +altogether; but he also filled the Fool's jesting with sententious +satire, and while preserving the low-comedy style of the character, +brought it into keeping with a lofty and even a tragic view of life. In +"King Lear" the Fool rises into heroic proportions, and becomes a sort +of conscience, or second thought, to Lear. Compared even with Touchstone +he is very much more elevated, and shows not less than Hamlet, or than +Lear himself, the grand development of Shakespeare's mind at this period +of its maturity. In the representation of Shakespeare's plays there has +been no greater affront to common sense than the usual presentation of +this Fool upon the stage as a boy, ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>cept the putting a pretty woman +into the part, dressed in such a way as to captivate the eye and divert +the attention by the beauty of her figure. It is disturbing enough to +see Ariel, sexless, but, like the angels, rather masculine than +feminine, represented by a woman dressed below the waist in an inverted +gauze saucer, and above the waist in a perverted gauze nothing; but to +see Lear's Fool thus unbedecked is more amazing than Bottom's brutal +translation was to his fellow actors. This Fool is a man of middle age, +one who has watched the world and grown sad over it. His jesting has a +touch of heart-break in it which is prevented from becoming pathetic +only by the cynicism which pertains partly to his personal character and +partly to his office. He and Kent are about of an age—Kent, who when +asked his age, as he comes back disguised to his old master, says, "Not +so young as to love a woman for her singing, nor so old as to dote on +her for anything; I have years on my back forty-eight"—a speech which +contains one of the finest of Shakespeare's minor touches of +worldly-wise character drawing. The German artist Retsch in his fine +outline illustrations of this play has conceived this Fool with fine +appreciation of Shakespeare's meaning. He makes him a mature man, with a +wan face and a sad, eager eye. The misrepresentation of the character +has its origin in Lear's calling the Fool "boy"—a term partly of +endearment and partly of patronage, which has been so used in all +countries and in all times. A similar misunderstanding of a similar word +<i>fool</i>, which Lear touchingly applies to Cordelia in the last +scene—"and my poor fool is hanged"—caused the misapprehension until of +late years<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> that Lear's court Fool was hanged—although why Edmund's +creatures should have been at the trouble in the stress of their +disaster to hang a Fool it would puzzle any one to tell.</p> + +<p>"Othello" bears throughout the marks of the same maturity of intellect, +and the same mastery of dramatic effect, that appear in "Hamlet" and in +"King Lear"; but from the nature of its subject it is not so profoundly +thoughtful as the others. It is a drama of action, which "Hamlet" is not +in a high degree; and although a grand example of the imaginative +dramatic style, it has the distinction of being the most actable of all +Shakespeare's tragedies. It is difficult to conceive any age or any +country in which "Othello" would not be an impressive and a welcome play +to any intelligent audience. Highly poetical in its treatment, it is +intensely real in its interest; and it must continue so until there is a +radical change in human nature.</p> + +<p>In the first of these articles I proposed to analyze and compare the +jealousy of Othello, Claudio, and Leontes; but I have abandoned the +design, partly because I find that it would require another article in +itself, and partly because it would necessarily lead me into a +psychological and physiological discussion which would hardly be in +keeping with the purpose with which I am now writing, which is merely to +offer such guidance and such help as I can give to intelligent and +somewhat inexperienced readers of Shakespeare. But I will remark that +Othello's jealousy is man's jealousy (so called) raised to the most +intense power by the race and the social position of the person who is +its subject. The feeling in man and that in woman, called jealousy, are +quite different in origin and in nature, although they have the same +name. In woman the feeling arises from a supposed slight of her person, +the <i>spretæ injuria formæ</i> of Virgil, to which he attributes Juno's +enmity to Troy; and however it may be sentimentally developed, it has +this for its spring and its foundation. But a man, unless he is the +weakest of all coxcombs, and unworthy to wear his beard, does not +trouble himself because a woman admires another man's person more than +his own. His feeling has its origin in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> the motherhood of woman, a +recognition of which is latent in all social arrangements touching the +sex, and in all man's feeling toward her. Man's jealousy is a mingled +feeling of resentment of personal disloyalty, and of grief at unchastity +on the part of the woman that he loves. Man is jealous much in the same +sense in which it is said, "The Lord thy God is a jealous God"; which +saying, indeed, is a consequence of the anthropomorphic conception of +the Deity, notwithstanding the exclusion from it of the idea of sex. But +it is impossible to conceive of such a feeling as feminine jealousy +being referred to in the passage in the second commandment. The +"jealousy" of Othello and Leontes, and of Claudio, will be found on +examination to be at bottom the same. In Claudio it is correct, +gentlemanly, princely, and somewhat weak; in Leontes it is morbid, +unreasonable, hard, and cruel; in Othello it is perfectly pure in its +quality, and has in it quite as much of tenderness and grief as of wrath +and indignation; and it rages with all the fierceness of his half-savage +nature. The passion in him becomes heroic, colossal; but it is perfect +in its nature and in its proportions, and from the point to which he has +been brought by Iago, perfectly justifiable. Hence it is that it is so +respected by women. Nothing was more remarkable at Salvini's admirable +performance of Othello than the acquiescence of all his female auditors +in the fate of Desdemona. They were sorry for the poor girl, to be sure; +but they seemed to think that Desdemonas were made to be the victims of +Othellos, and that a man who could love in that fashion and be jealous +in that style of exalted fury was rather to be pitied and admired when +he smothered a woman on a misunderstanding. She should not have teased +him so to take back Cassio; and what could she have expected when she +was so careless about the handkerchief and told such lies about it! It +is somewhat unpleasant to be smothered, to be sure, but all the same +she ought to be content and happy to be the object of such love and the +occasion of such jealousy. They mourned far more over his fate than over +hers. This representation of manly jealousy, so elemental and simple, +and yet so stupendous, is one of Shakespeare's masterpieces. I mean not +merely in its verbal expression, but in its characteristic conception of +the masculine form of the passion. Compare it with the jealousy of any +of his women—of Adriana, of Julia, of Cleopatra, of Imogen, of +Regan—and see how different it is in kind; I will not say in degree; +for Shakespeare has not exhibited woman as highly deformed by this +passion; that he left for inferior dramatists, with whom it is a +favorite subject.</p> + +<p>In two of these tragedies we have Shakespeare's most elaborate and, so +to speak, admirable representations of villany: Edmund in "King Lear" +and Iago in "Othello." These vile creations cannot, however, be justly +regarded as the fruit of a lower view of human nature consequent upon a +longer acquaintance with it. They were merely required by the exigencies +of his plots; and being required, he made them as it was in him to do. +For in nothing is his superiority more greatly manifested than in the +fact that monsters of baseness, or even thoroughly base men, figure so +rarely among his <i>dramatis personæ</i>. They are common with inferior +dramatists and writers of prose fiction, whose ruder hands need them as +convenient motive powers and as vehicles of the expression of a lower +view of human nature. Not so with him. He has weak and erring men—men +who are misled by their passions, ambition, revenge, selfish lust, or +what not; but Iago, Edmund, and the Duke in "Measure for Measure" are +almost all his characters of their kind. In "Richard III." he merely +painted a highly colored historical portrait; and Parolles, in "All's +Well that Ends Well," and Iachimo, in "Cymbeline," do not rise to the +dignity of even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> third-rate personages. Iago, it need hardly be said, is +the most perfect of all his creatures in this kind, and indeed he is the +most admirably detestable and infamous character in all literature. +Edmund is equally base and cruel; but compared with Iago he is a coarse, +low, brutal, and rabid animal. In Iago all the craft and venom of which +the human soul is capable is united with an intellectual subtlety which +seems to reach the limit of imagination or conception. There are some +who see in the making the bastard son in "Lear" the monster of +ingratitude and villany and the legitimate a model of all the manly and +filial virtues an evidence of Shakespeare's judgment and discrimination. +But this is one of those fond and over-subtle misapprehensions from +which Shakespeare has suffered in not a few instances, even at the hands +of critics of reputation. It suited Shakespeare's plot that the villain +should be the bastard; that is all; and Lear's legitimate daughters +Goneril and Regan are as base, as bad, and as cruelly ungrateful as +Gloucester's illegitimate son. Shakespeare knew human nature too well, +and handled it with too just and impartial a hand, to let the question +of legitimacy influence him in one way or the other. In "King John" we +have, on the contrary, the mean-souled Robert Faulconbridge and his +gallant and chivalrous bastard brother Philip.</p> + +<p>About the same time, or if not in the same time, perhaps in the same +year which saw the production of "King Lear," "Macbeth" was written. But +its date is not certain within four or five years. It was surely written +before 1610, in which year a contemporary diary records its performance +on the 20th of April. The Cambridge editors, in their annotated edition +of this play, in the "Clarendon Press" series, prefer the later date; +but notwithstanding my great respect for their judgment, I hold to my +conclusion for the earlier, for the reasons given in my own edition. The +question has not in itself much pertinence to our present purpose, as +there is no doubt that the tragedy was produced in this period, and its +general style, both of thought and versification, is that of Shakespeare +in its fullest development and vigor. But with the question of date +there is involved another of great interest to the thoughtful +reader—that of mixed authorship. In the introductory essay to my +edition of this play (published in 1861) attention was directed to the +internal evidence that it was hastily written and left unfinished.<a name="FNanchor_H_8" id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a> +Subsequent editors and critics, notably the Cambridge editors and the +Rev. F. G. Fleay, in his "Shakespearian Manual," starting from this +view, have gone so far as to say that "Macbeth," as we have it, is not +all Shakespeare's, but in part the work of Thomas Middleton, a second or +third-rate playwright contemporary <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>with Shakespeare, who wrote a play, +called "The Witch," which is plainly an imitation of the supernatural +scenes in this tragedy. The Cambridge editors believe that Middleton was +permitted to supply certain scenes at the time of the writing of +Macbeth: Mr. Fleay, that Middleton cut down and patched up Shakespeare's +perfected work, adding much inferior matter of his own, and that he did +this being engaged to alter the play for stage purposes. The latter +opinion I must reject, notwithstanding Mr. Fleay's minute, elaborate, +and often specious argument; but the opinion of the Cambridge editors +seems to me to a certain extent sound. I cannot, however, go to the +length which they do in rejecting parts of this play as not being +Shakespeare's work. This study of Shakespeare's style and of what is not +his work at a certain period of his life being directly to our purpose, +let us examine the tragedy for traces of his hand and of another.</p> + +<p>And first let the reader turn to Scene 5 of Act III., which consists +almost entirely of a long speech by Hecate, beginning:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have I not reason, beldames as you are,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To trade and traffic with Macbeth</span><br /> +<span class="i0">In riddles and affairs of death:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And I, the mistress of your charms,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The close contriver of all harms,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Was never called to bear my part,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or show the glory of our art?</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>This speech is surely not of Shakespeare's writing. Its being in +octosyllabic rhyme is not against it, however; although he abandoned +rhyme almost altogether at or before this period. The fact of the +business of the scene being supernatural would account for its form. But +it is mere rhyme; little more than an unmeaning jingle of verses. Any +journeyman at versemaking would write such stuff. Read the speech +through, and then think of the writer of "Hamlet," and "Lear," and +"Othello," producing such a weak wash of words at the same time when he +was writing those tragedies. And even turn back and compare it with the +rhyming speeches of his other supernatural personages, of Puck and +Titana and Oberon in "A Midsummer Night's Dream," which he wrote at +least ten or twelve years earlier, and you will see that it is not only +so inferior, but so unlike his undoubted work that it must be rejected. +Turn next to Scene 3 of Act II., and read the speeches of the Porter. +Long ago Coleridge said of these, "This low soliloquy of the Porter and +his few speeches afterward I believe to have been written for the mob by +some other hand." That they were written for the mob is nothing against +them as Shakespeare's. Shakespeare wrote for the mob. He made a point of +putting in something for the groundlings<a name="FNanchor_I_9" id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a> in every play that he wrote. +But with what a mighty hand he did it! so that those who have since then +sat in the highest seats in the world's theatre have laughed, and +pondered as they laughed. "Lear" is notably free from this element; but +even in the philosophical "Hamlet" we have the much elaborated scene of +the Gravediggers, which was written only to please Coleridge's "mob."<a name="FNanchor_J_10" id="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a> +But let the reader now compare these Porter's speeches in "Macbeth" with +those of the Gravediggers in "Hamlet," and if he is one who can hope to +appreciate Shakespeare at all, he will at this stage of his study see at +once that although both are low-comedy, technically speaking, the former +are low-lived, mean, thoughtless, without any other significance than +that of the surface meaning of the poor, gross language in which they +are written; while <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>the latter, although, far more laughable even to the +most uncultivated hearer, are pregnant with thought and suggestion. +There can be no question that these speeches in "Macbeth" were written +by some other hand than Shakespeare's.</p> + +<p>Having now satisfied ourselves that some part of "Macbeth" is not +Shakespeare's (and I began with those so manifestly spurious passages to +establish that point clearly and easily in the reader's apprehension), +"we are in a proper mood of mind to consider the objections that have +been made by the Cambridge editors to other parts of the tragedy. The +whole second scene of Act I. is regarded as spurious because of +"slovenly metre," too slovenly for him even when he is most careless; +"bombastic phraseology," too bombastic for him even when he is most so; +also because he had too much good sense to send a severely wounded +soldier with the news of a victory. I cannot reject this scene for these +reasons. The question of metre and style is one of judgment; and the one +seems to me not more irregular and careless, and the other not more +tumid, than Shakespeare is in passages undoubtedly of his writing; while +there is a certain flavor of language in the scene and a certain roll of +the words upon the tongue which are his peculiar traits and tricks of +style. The point as to the wounded soldier seems to me a manifest +misapprehension. He is not sent as a messenger. Nothing in the text or +in the stage directions of the original edition gives even color to such +an opinion. The first two scenes of this act prepare one's mind for the +tragedy and lay out its action; and they do so, as far as design is +concerned, with great skill. The first short scene announces the +supernatural character of the agencies at work; the next tells us of the +personages who are to figure in the action and the position in which +they are placed. In the second scene King Duncan and his suite, marching +toward the scene of conflict, and so near it that they are within +ear-shot, if not arrow-shot, <i>meet</i> a wounded officer. He is not sent to +them. He is merely retiring from the field severely wounded—so severely +that he cannot remain long uncared for. The stage direction of the folio +is "Alarum within," which means (as will be found by examining other +plays) that the sound of drums, trumpets, and the conflict of arms is +heard. Then, "Enter King, etc., etc., <i>meeting</i> a bleeding Captaine." +The King, then, does not greet or regard him as a messenger, but +exclaims, "What bloody man is that?" and adds, "He <i>can</i> report, as +<i>seemeth by his plight</i>, the condition of the revolt." Plainly this is +no messenger, but a mere wounded officer who leaves the field because, +as he says, his "gashes cry for help."</p> + +<p>In Act IV., Sc. 1, this speech of the First Witch after the "Show of +Eight Kings," is plainly not Shakespeare's:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, sir, all this is so; but why</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And show the best of our delights.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I'll charm the air to give a sound,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">While you perform your antic round,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">That this great king may kindly say</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Our duties did his welcome pay.</span><br /> +</div></div> + + +<p>This is condemned by the Cambridge editors, and I agree entirely with +them. Moreover it seems to be manifestly from the same hand as Hecate's +speech (Act III., Sc. 5), previously referred to. The style shows this, +and the motive is the same—the introduction of fairy business, dancing +and singing, which have nothing to do with the action of the tragedy, +and are quite foreign to the supernatural motive of it as indicated in +the witch scenes which have the mark of Shakespeare's hand.</p> + +<p>In Act IV., Sc. 3, the passage in regard to touching for the King's +Evil, from "Enter a Doctor" to "full of grace," was, we may be pretty +sure, an interpolation previous to a representation at court, as the +Cambridge editors suggest, and it is probably not Shakespeare's; but I +would not undertake to say so positively. The same editors say they +"have doubts about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> the second scene of Act V." I notice this not merely +to express my surprise at it, but to let the reader see how difficult it +is to arrive at a general consent upon such points which are merely +matters of judgment. To me this scene is unmistakably Shakespeare's. Who +else could have written this passage, not only for its excellence but +for its peculiarity?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Caithness.</i>—Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Do call it valiant fury; but for certain</span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>He cannot buckle his distempered cause</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Within the belt of rule.</i></span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Angus.</i>— Now does he feel</span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>His secret murders sticking on his hands</i>;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Those he commands move only in command,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Nothing in love; <i>now does he feel his title</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Hang loose about him like a giant's robe</i></span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Upon a dwarfish thief</i>.</span><br /> +</div></div> + + +<p>I am sure that I should have suspected those lines to be Shakespeare's +if I had first met them without a name, in a nameless book. Still more +surprising is it to me to find these editors saying that in Act V., Sc. +5, lines 47-50 are "singularly weak." Here they are:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If this which he avouches does appear,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">There is no flying hence or tarrying here.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And wish the estate of the world were now undone.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>The first two have no particular character, nor need they have any, as +they merely introduce the last two, which contain an utterance of blank +despair and desolation which seems to me more expressive than any other +that I ever read.</p> + +<p>The last passage of the play, that after line 34, when Macbeth and +Macduff go off fighting, and Macbeth is killed, are probably, as the +Cambridge editors suggest, by another hand than Shakespeare's. Their +tameness and their constrained rhythm are not Shakespearian work, +particularly at this period of his life, and in the writing of such a +scene. "Nor would he," as the Cambridge editors say, "have drawn away +the veil which with his fine tact he had dropped over her [Lady +Macbeth's] fate by telling us that she had taken off her life 'by self, +and violent hands.'"</p> + +<p>The person who wrote these un-Shakespearian passages was probably +Middleton. Shakespeare, writing the tragedy in haste for an occasion, +received a little help, according to the fashion of the time, from +another playwright; and the latter having imitated the supernatural +poets of this play in one of his own, the players or managers afterward +introduced from that play songs by him—"Music and a song, Come away, +come away," Act III., Sc. 5, and "Music and a song, Black spirits," +etc., Act IV., Sc. 1. This was done to please the inferior part of the +audience. These songs and all this sort of operatic incantation are +entirely foreign to the supernatural motive of the tragedy as +Shakespeare conceived it. And I will here remark that the usual +performance of "Macbeth" with "a chorus" and "all Locke's music" is a +revolting absurdity.</p> + +<p>My next paper will close this series with an examination of some of +Shakespeare's least known dramas.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Richard Grant White.</span></p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> Since 1854.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_8" id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> For the convenience of readers to whom my edition is not +accessible I quote the following passage: +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I am more inclined to this opinion from the indications which the +play itself affords that it was produced upon an emergency. It +exhibits throughout the hasty execution of a grand and clearly +conceived design. But the haste is that of a master of his art, +who, with conscious command of its resources, and in the frenzy of +a grand inspiration, works out his conception to its minutest +detail of essential form, leaving the work of surface finish for +the occupation of cooler leisure. What the Sistine Madonna was to +Raphael, it seems that 'Macbeth' was to Shakespeare—a magnificent +impromptu; that kind of impromptu which results from the +application of well-disciplined powers and rich stores of thought +to a subject suggested by occasion. I am inclined to regard +'Macbeth' as, for the most part, a specimen of Shakespeare's +unelaborated, if not unfinished, writing, in the maturity and +highest vitality of his genius. It abounds in instances of +extremest compression and most daring ellipsis; while it exhibits +in every scene a union of supreme dramatic and poetic power, and in +almost every line an imperially irresponsible control of language. +Hence, I think, its lack of formal completeness of versification in +certain passages, and also of the imperfection in its text, the +thought in which the compositors were not always able to follow and +apprehend. The only authority for the text of 'Macbeth' is the +folio of 1623, the apparent corruptions of which must be restored +with a more than usually cautious hand. Without being multitudinous +or confusing, they are sufficiently numerous and important to test +severely the patience, acumen, and judgment of any editor."—<i>"The +Works of William Shakespeare." Vol. X., P.</i> 424.</p></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_9" id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> So called because they stood on the ground. The pit was +then a real pit, and its floor was the bare earth. There were no +benches. It was so in the French theatre until a much later period. +Hence the French name <i>parterre</i> for the pit—<i>par terre</i>, upon the +ground. The name <i>parquet</i>, which is given to that part of a theatre in +America, is not French, and is no word at all, but a miserable affected +nonentity of sound.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_10" id="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> The reader who cares to do so will find something upon this +point in my essay on Shakespeare's genius, "Life and Genius of +Shakespeare," pp. 280, 281.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="APPLIED_SCIENCE" id="APPLIED_SCIENCE"></a>APPLIED SCIENCE.</h2> + +<h3>A LOVE STORY IN TWO CHAPTERS.</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<p>The village of Salmon Falls, in eastern New England, consists of a +number of mills and factories, the railroad station, a store or two, and +two hundred dwellings. Among these is the Denny mansion at the top of +the hill, where the road climbs up from the station and the river. It is +a large square house in the old colonial fashion, with two wings at the +rear and a garden in front.</p> + +<p>It was a warm July morning when Mr. John Denny, mill owner and +proprietor of the homestead, had his chair rolled out to the porch, and +with some assistance from the servants, reached it on his crutch and sat +down in the shadow of the great house and out of the glare of the hot +sun. The vine-covered porch and the wide piazza opened directly upon the +garden and gave a full view of the road. Beyond there was an outlook +over the open fields, the mills, the stream, and the village in the +valley. By the road there was a stone wall and a wicker gate opening +upon the grassy sidewalk outside. A table had been laid with a white +cloth in the porch, and Mr. Denny sat by it and waited for the coming of +his daughter and breakfast. While he sat thus he turned over a number of +papers, and then, after a while, he began to talk to himself somewhat in +this wise:</p> + +<p>"Expense! expense! expense! There seems no end to it. Bills coming in +every day, and every one larger than was expected. In my young days we +built a shop and knew to a dollar what it would cost. Now the estimates +are invariably short. The batting mill has already gone a thousand +dollars beyond the estimates, and the roof is but just put on. Even the +new chimney cost four dollars a foot more than was expected. Thank +Heaven, it is done, and that expense is over. Could I walk, I might look +after things and keep them within bounds. With my crushed foot I sit a +prisoner at home, and must leave all to Lawrence. It is fortunate that I +have one man I can trust with my affairs."</p> + +<p>Just here Alma, his only child, a bright and wholesome girl of nineteen, +appeared from the house. Fairly educated, sensible, and affectionate, +but perhaps a trifle inexperienced by reason of her residence in this +quiet place, she is at once the pride and the light of the house.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, father. Are you well this happy summer's day?"</p> + +<p>The old gentleman kissed her fondly, and asked did she pass a quiet +night.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I didn't sleep much, that is all—for thinking."</p> + +<p>"Thinking of what?"</p> + +<p>"The expected guest. To-day is the 9th of July, and cousin Elmer comes."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes—Elmer Franklin. I had almost forgotten him."</p> + +<p>"How does he look, father? Is his hair dark, or has he blue eyes? I +hardly know which I like best."</p> + +<p>"I do not remember. I've not seen the boy since he was a mere child, +years ago. He has been at school since."</p> + +<p>"He must be a man now. He is past twenty-one, and, as for school, why, +it's the Scientific School, and I'm sure men go to that."</p> + +<p>"You seem greatly interested in this unknown relative, Alma."</p> + +<p>"He is to be our guest, father—for a whole month. Come! Will you have +breakfast out here in the porch?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear. It is quite comfortable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> here, and it will save the trouble +of moving."</p> + +<p>Thereupon Alma entered the house in search of the breakfast, and a +moment after Mr. Lawrence Belford entered the garden at the street gate. +The son of an old friend of Mr. Denny's lamented wife, Mr. Belford had +been admitted to the house some months since as confidential clerk and +business man. He was a rather commonplace person, about thirty years of +age, and his education and manners were good if not remarkable. During +his residence with the Dennys he had found time to fall in love with +Alma, and they had been engaged—and with Mr. Denny's consent.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Lawrence. You're just in time for breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, sir. Thank you, no. I have been to breakfast. I am just +up from the station."</p> + +<p>"Seen anything of the railroad coach? The train is in, and it is time +for the coach to pass. Our guest may be in it."</p> + +<p>"No, sir, but I saw the express coming up the hill with an extra large +load of baggage."</p> + +<p>Just here Alma returned from the house bearing a large tray of plates +and breakfast things. The young people greet each other pleasantly, and +Alma proceeds to lay the table.</p> + +<p>"Now for breakfast, father. Everything waits upon a good appetite. Will +you not join us, Lawrence?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Belford replies that he has been to breakfast. Mr. Denny takes a cup +of coffee, and while sipping it remarks:</p> + +<p>"How many more window-frames shall you require for the new mill, +Lawrence?"</p> + +<p>"Ten more, sir. There is only a part of the fourth story unfinished."</p> + +<p>"Alma, dear, do you remember how high we decided the new chimney was to +be? Yes, thank you, only two lumps of sugar. Thank you. You remember we +were talking about it when the Lawsons were here."</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me. Ask Lawrence. I never can remember anything about such +matters."</p> + +<p>Just at that moment the express pulled up at the gate, and there was a +knock. Alma rose hastily, and said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! That must be Elmer."</p> + +<p>She opened the gate, and young Mr. Elmer Franklin of New York entered. A +man to respect: an open, manly face, clear blue eyes, and a wiry, +compact, and vigorous frame. A man with a sound mind in a sound body. He +was dressed in a gray travelling suit, and had a knapsack strapped to +his back; in his hand a stout stick looking as if just cut from the +roadside, and at his side a field glass in a leather case. Immediately +behind him came a man bending under the load of an immense trunk. Alma +smiled her best, and the young stranger bowed gallantly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Denny, I presume?"</p> + +<p>"Welcome, cousin Franklin," said Mr. Denny from his chair. "I knew you +at once, though it is years since any members of our families have met. +Pardon me if I do not rise. I'm an old man, and confined to my chair."</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin offered his hand and said politely:</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir, for your kind reception. I am greatly pleased to—— +Hullo! Look out there, boys! That baggage is precious and fragile."</p> + +<p>Another man appeared, and the two brought in trunks and boxes, bundles +and parcels, till there was quite a large heap of baggage piled up on +the grass. Alma and Lawrence were properly amazed at this array of +things portable, and Mr. Denny laid aside the breakfast things to look +at the rather remarkable display.</p> + +<p>The young man seemed to think apologies essential.</p> + +<p>"I do not wonder that you are alarmed. I do not often take such a load +of traps. I wrote you that my visit would be one of study and scientific +investigation, and I was obliged to bring my philosophical apparatus and +books with me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is indeed a wonderful train of luggage for a man. One would have +thought you intended to bring a wife."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Denny bethought him of his duty, and he introduced his newly +found relative to his daughter and to Mr. Lawrence Belford, and then +bade him draw up to the table for breakfast. The young man made the +motions suitable for such an occasion, and then he turned to pay his +expressman. This trifling incident deserves record as happily +illustrating the young man's noble character.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir. Breakfast will be a cheerful episode. I've a glorious +appetite, for I walked up from the station."</p> + +<p>"There's a coach, Mr. Franklin, and it passes our door."</p> + +<p>"I knew that, sir, but I preferred to walk and see the country. Fine +section of conglomerate you have in the road cutting just above the +station."</p> + +<p>"Eh! What were you saying?"</p> + +<p>"I said that I observed an interesting section of +conglomerate—water-worn pebbles, I should say—mingled with quartz +sand, on the roadside. I must have a run down there and a better look at +it after breakfast."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny was somewhat overwhelmed at this, and said doubtfully,</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, I remember—yes, exactly."</p> + +<p>"Are you interested in geology, Miss Denny?"</p> + +<p>Alma was rather confused, and tried hard to find the lump of sugar that +had melted away in her coffee, and said briefly,</p> + +<p>"No. I didn't know that we had any in this part of the country."</p> + +<p>Mr. Belford here felt called upon to say:</p> + +<p>"My dear Alma, you forget yourself."</p> + +<p>"Why will you take me up so sharply, Lawrence? I meant to say that I +didn't know we had any quartz conglomerate hereabouts."</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin smiled pleasantly, and remarked to himself:</p> + +<p>"My dear Alma! That's significant. Wonder if he's spooney on her?"</p> + +<p>Then he said aloud:</p> + +<p>"The pursuit of science demands good dinners. Pardon me if I take some +more coffee."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do—and these rolls. I made them myself—expressly for you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for both rolls and compliment."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lawrence took up some of the papers from the table and began to read +them, and the others went on with their breakfast. Presently Mr. Denny +said:</p> + +<p>"I presume, Mr. Franklin, that you are greatly interested in your school +studies?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. The pursuit of pure science is one of the most noble +employments that can tax the cultivated intellect."</p> + +<p>"But you must confess that it is not very practical."</p> + +<p>Before the young man could reply Alma spoke:</p> + +<p>"Oh! cousin Elmer—I mean Mr. Franklin—excuse me. You haven't taken off +your knapsack."</p> + +<p>Taking it off and throwing it behind him on the ground, he said:</p> + +<p>"It's only my clothes."</p> + +<p>"Clothes!" said Mr. Denny. "Then what is in the trunks?"</p> + +<p>"My theodolite, cameras, chains, levels, telescopes, retorts, and no end +of scientific traps."</p> + +<p>Alma, quite pleased:</p> + +<p>"How interesting. Won't you open one of the trunks and let us see some +of the things?"</p> + +<p>"With the greatest pleasure; but perhaps I'd better take them to my room +first."</p> + +<p>"Anything you like, Elmer—Mr. Franklin, I mean. Our house is your +home."</p> + +<p>Lawrence Belford here frowned and looked in an unpleasant manner for a +moment at the young stranger, who felt rather uncomfortable, though he +could scarcely say why. With apparent indifference he drew out a small +brass sounder, such as is used in tele<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>graph offices, and began snapping +it in his fingers.</p> + +<p>In his mind he said:</p> + +<p>"Wonder if any of them are familiar with the great dot and line +alphabet!"</p> + +<p>Alma heard the sounder and said eagerly:</p> + +<p>"Oh! cou—Mr. Franklin, what is that?"</p> + +<p>"It is a pocket sounder. Do you know the alphabet?"</p> + +<p>"I should hope so."</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon. I meant Morse's."</p> + +<p>"Morse's?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Morse's alphabet."</p> + +<p>"No. You must teach it to me."</p> + +<p>Thereupon he moved the sounder slowly, giving a letter at a time, and +saying:</p> + +<p>"A - — L - — - - M — — A - —.</p> + +<p>That's your name. Queer sound, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Let me try. Perhaps I could do it."</p> + +<p>"My dear Alma, your father is waiting. You had best remove the things."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lawrence. I'll call Mary."</p> + +<p>The maid soon appeared, and the breakfast things were removed. Then Mr. +Denny drew Mr. Franklin's attention to the new factory chimney that +stood in plain sight from where they sat.</p> + +<p>The young man promptly drew out his field glass, and, mounting one of +the steps of the porch, took a long look at the new shaft.</p> + +<p>"Not quite plumb, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Not plumb! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"It is impossible," said Mr. Belford with some warmth.</p> + +<p>"It looks so," said the young man with the glass still up at his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I tell you it is impossible, sir. I built it myself, and I ought to +know."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Beg pardon. You can take the glass and see for yourself."</p> + +<p>"I need no glass. I took the stage down only yesterday, and I ought to +know."</p> + +<p>"Allow me to take your glass, cousin Franklin," said Mr. Denny. He took +the glass, but quickly laid it down with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"My eyes are old and weak, and the glass does not suit them. I am very +sorry to hear what you say. I would not have one of my chimneys out of +line for the world."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry I said anything about it, sir. I did not know the chimney +belonged to you."</p> + +<p>Alma was apparently distressed at the turn the conversation had taken, +and tried to lead it to other matters, but the old gentleman's mind was +disturbed, and he returned to the chimney.</p> + +<p>"I designed it to be the tallest and finest chimney I ever erected, and +I hope it is all correct."</p> + +<p>"It is, sir," said Mr. Belford. "Everything is correct to the very +capstones."</p> + +<p>"It is my tallest chimney, Mr. Franklin—eighty-one feet and six inches; +and that is two feet taller than any chimney in the whole Salmon Falls +valley."</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin, in an innocent spirit of scientific inquiry, put his glass +to his eyes and examined the chimney again. Alma began to feel ill at +ease, and Lawrence Belford indulged in a muttered curse under his black +moustache.</p> + +<p>"Eighty-one feet and six inches—the tallest chimney in the valley."</p> + +<p>No one seemed to heed the old gentleman's remark, and presently Mr. +Franklin laid his field glass on the table, and taking out his brass +sounder, he idly moved it as if absently thinking of something.</p> + +<p>Alma suddenly looked up with a little blush and a smile. Her eyes seemed +to say to him:</p> + +<p>"I heard you call? What is it?"</p> + +<p>He nodded pleasantly, and said, "Would you like to see some of my +traps?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Do open one of your trunks."</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin took out a bunch of keys and went to one of the trunks. As +he did so he said to himself:</p> + +<p>"Deuced bright girl! She learned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> my call in a flash. I must teach her +the whole alphabet, and then will have some tall fun and circumvent that +fool of a clerk."</p> + +<p>This remark was applied to Mr. Belford, and was eminent for its touching +truth.</p> + +<p>While the young people were opening the trunk, Mr. Denny and Mr. Belford +were engaged in examining the business papers spread on the table, and +for several minutes they paid no attention to things done and said +almost under their eyes.</p> + +<p>Such a very strange trunk. Instead of clothing, it contained the most +singular assortment of scientific instruments. Each was carefully +secured so that no rude handling would harm it, and all shining and +glistening brilliantly as if kept with the most exquisite care. Mr. +Franklin unfastened a small brass telescope, mounted upon a stand, with +a compass, levels, plumb line, and weight attached.</p> + +<p>"That's my theodolite. There's a tripod in one of my boxes. I'll get it +and mount it, and we'll have a shot at the chimney.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing! I'm going to measure it. Wouldn't you like to help me?"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart. Tell me what to do."</p> + +<p>"Presently. Wait till I've screwed things together; then I'll tell you +what to do. Oh! By the way, I must tell you an amusing episode that +happened at the railroad station while I was waiting for my luggage. +There was a young man sending off a message at the little telegraph +station, and I overheard the message and the comments of the operator."</p> + +<p>Alma didn't appear to enjoy this incident.</p> + +<p>"Not listening intentionally, you know. It was the telegraph I heard, +not the people."</p> + +<p>Alma felt better.</p> + +<p>"It was all by mere sounds, and it ran this way: 'The old fool is here +again.' That's what she said—the operator, I mean. 'To Isaac Abrams, +1,607 Barclay street, New York. I have secured the will. Foreclose the +mortgage and realize at once. Get two state rooms for the 25th.—L. B.' +That was the message, and it was so very strange I wrote it out in +my—— Oh! Beg pardon, Miss Denny. Are you ill?"</p> + +<p>Alma's face had assumed a sudden pallor, and she seemed frightened and +ill at ease.</p> + +<p>"'Tis nothing—really nothing! I shall be better presently."</p> + +<p>Then, as if anxious to change the conversation, she began to ask rapid +questions about the theodolite and its uses.</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin was too well bred to notice anything, but he confessed to +himself that he had said something awkward, and, for the life of him, he +could not imagine what it might be. He replied briefly, and then went on +with his preparations for some time in silence, Alma meanwhile looking +on with the greatest interest. The theodolite having been put together, +Mr. Franklin opened another box and took out a wooden tripod, such as +are used to support such instruments. He also took out a fine steel +ribbon, or measuring tape, neatly wound up on a reel.</p> + +<p>"You shall carry that, Miss Denny, and I'll shoulder the theodolite."</p> + +<p>"Wait till I get my hat and the sun umbrella."</p> + +<p>"To be sure; it will be warm in the fields."</p> + +<p>Alma was soon arrayed in a dainty chip. At least she called it a chip, +and the historian can do naught but repeat her language. Besides this, +it was not bigger than a chip, and it looked very pretty tied under her +chin. Over her head she carried its real protection, an immense Japanese +paper umbrella, light, airy, and generous.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, Alma?" said Mr. Denny.</p> + +<p>"Oh! only to the fields for a little walk. We'll be back presently."</p> + +<p>The confidential clerk thought it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> strange that the daughter of the +house should be so free with the stranger. But the young people were +distant cousins, and it wouldn't have been polite in him to have +objected to the little walk.</p> + +<p>So the two, under the friendly shade of the big paper umbrella, went out +to see the new chimney, while Mr. Denny and the confidential clerk staid +behind to talk business.</p> + +<p>The new chimney stood at the southeast corner of the great four-story +mill, and close beside the little brick engine house. Alma led the +youthful son of science out of the gate, down the road a few rods, and +then they passed a stile, and took the winding path that straggled over +the pastures to the mill.</p> + +<p>Of course they talked volubly. This being the stern and prosy record of +applied science, it becomes us not to report the chatterings of these +two till they reached the base of the vast brick chimney, towering +nearly eighty feet into the air above them. Its long shadow lay like a +stiffened snake upon the fields, and Elmer, observing it, said:</p> + +<p>"Good! We can use the shadow, too, and have double proof."</p> + +<p>"How?" said the bright one, in a beautiful spirit of inquiry.</p> + +<p>"If an upright stick, a foot long, casts a shadow three feet long, the +shadow of another stick beside it, at the same time, is proportionally +long."</p> + +<p>"I knew that before. That isn't very high science."</p> + +<p>"Why did you say 'how'?"</p> + +<p>"Because I didn't think. Because I was a goose."</p> + +<p>"Such terms are not choice, and are devoid of truth. Here! stern duty +calls. Do you hold one end of the tape at the foot of the chimney, and +I'll measure off the base line of our triangle."</p> + +<p>Alma was charmed to be of use, and sat on a stone with the brass ring of +the tape on her ring finger next her engagement ring, and her hand flat +against the first course of bricks. Trifles sometimes hint great +events. Little did she think that the plain brass ring on her finger was +the hard truth of science that should shiver her gold ring to fragments +and pale its sparkling diamond. Being a wholesome creature, and not +given to romance, she thought nothing about it, which was wise. Her +cousin, the knight of the theodolite, set his instrument upright upon +the grass, and then ran the measuring line out to its full length.</p> + +<p>"All right! Let the tape go."</p> + +<p>Alma took off the brass ring, and the steel ribbon ran like a glittering +snake through the grass, and she slowly followed it and joined her +knight.</p> + +<p>"Once more, please. Hold the ring on this bit of a stake that I've set +up in the ground."</p> + +<p>Alma, like a good girl, did as she was bid, and the ribbon ran out again +to its full length. Another stake was set up, and the theodolite was +placed in position and a sight obtained at the top of the tall chimney. +A little figuring in a note-book, and then the son of high science +quietly remarked:</p> + +<p>"Seventy-six feet four inches—short five feet two inches."</p> + +<p>Just here several urchins of an inquiring turn of mind drew near and +began to make infantile comments, and asked with charming freedom if it +was circus.</p> + +<p>"No!" said Alma, from under her paper tent. "No! Run away, children, run +away."</p> + +<p>It was too warm for so much exertion, and they wouldn't move.</p> + +<p>"Oh! never mind them. They don't trouble me; and if it amuses them, it's +so much clear gain."</p> + +<p>"They are some of the factory children, and I thought they might bother +you."</p> + +<p>"Inelegant, but thoughtful." He didn't say so. He only thought it, which +was quite as well.</p> + +<p>During this little episode the impressive facts that all this scientific +exertion had brought out concerning the chimney were lost upon Alma.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> It +was small consequence. She knew it well enough before night.</p> + +<p>Now for the shadow by way of proof. The theodolite, paper umbrella, and +admiring crowd of children trotted severally and collectively over the +grass till they reached the chimney again.</p> + +<p>"The tape-measure, Alma. You hold the ring, and I'll unreel the string."</p> + +<p>It was surprising how quickly these two made each other's acquaintance. +By the time the long shadow was measured, a stake set up, and the two +shadows compared, they seemed to have known each other for weeks. Such +is the surprising effect of pure science when applied to love.</p> + +<p>Had it come to this already? She was engaged to the confidential, the +chimney-builder. His ring glittered on her finger. True—all of it!</p> + +<p>See them sauntering slowly (the thermometer at 87 deg.) homeward under +the friendly shade of an oiled paper umbrella. They are indeed good +friends already. They enter the house together, and the cheerful dinner +bell greets their ears. She folds her oiled paper tent and he sets his +instrument up in a corner of the great shady hall. She leads the way to +the chamber that is to be his room during his stay, and then retires to +her own to prepare for the frugal noontide meal.</p> + +<p>The exact truth records that the meal was not severely frugal. It was +otherwise, and so much nicer.</p> + +<p>The entire family were assembled, and conversation was lively, +considering the weather. Near the close of the meal it grew suddenly +warm. The innocent son of science, proud of his accomplishments, made a +most incautious statement, and the result was peculiar.</p> + +<p>"Oh, uncle, you were saying this morning that my science was not very +practical. I tried a bit of it on your chimney this morning, and what do +you think I found?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I can't tell," said Mr. Denny.</p> + +<p>"I measured it, and it is exactly seventy-six feet, four inches high."</p> + +<p>If he had dropped a can of nitro-glycerin under the table, the effect +couldn't have been more startling. Mr. Lawrence Belford dropped his +fruit knife with a ruinous rattle, his face assumed the color of frosted +cake (the frosting, to be exact), and he seemed thoroughly frightened. +Mr. Denny looked surprised, and said,</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>Alma said nothing, but fished for the sugar in her strawberries and +cream.</p> + +<p>"What did you say, Mr. Franklin?"</p> + +<p>"I said that I measured the new chimney, just for the fun of the thing, +and found that it is exactly seventy-six feet, four inches high."</p> + +<p>"It's an abominable lie."</p> + +<p>"Lawrence!" said Alma, with an appealing glance.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure, Mr. Franklin? Have you not made some mistake?"</p> + +<p>"You are utterly mistaken, Mr. Franklin. I measured that chimney with a +line from the top, and I know your statement is entirely incorrect."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said the old gentleman.</p> + +<p>"It is so, sir," added Mr. Belford; and then, waxing bolder, he said, +"How could this young person, just from school, know anything of such +matters? Did he build a staging, or did he climb up the inside like a +chimney sweep?"</p> + +<p>Young Mr. Franklin saw that he had in some innocent fashion started a +most disagreeable subject. Why Mr. Denny should be so disturbed and Mr. +Belford so angry was past his comprehension. At the same time Mr. +Belford's language was offensive, and he replied with some spirit:</p> + +<p>"There is no need to climb the chimney, or use a line. It is a trifling +affair to ascertain the height of any building with a theodolite, as you +probably know."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, sir, it is false—utterly false. Besides, you have made +some mistake in the figures. You—you—but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> I've no patience with such +boy's play. It's only fit for school children."</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," said Alma, "you are unkind. I'm sure we meant no harm. I +helped Mr. Franklin, and I'm sure he's right; besides, we measured the +chimney by its shadow, and both statements were alike."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you've turned against me, I've nothing more to say."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny meanwhile seemed lost in deep study, and he hardly heeded what +was going on.</p> + +<p>"What can that boy know about such things? I tell you, it's——"</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, Mr. Belford, you are unnecessarily excited," said Mr. +Denny. "Mr. Franklin is a much younger man than you, but he showed a +knowledge of this matter, and if his figures are correct——"</p> + +<p>"They are, sir," said Elmer warmly. "I can show you the base line, and +the theodolite is still at the same angle. Alma saw me measure the base, +and she can tell you its length. There are the figures in my note-book."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny took the note-book and examined the figuring out of this +problem, and Elmer went to the hall for his instrument. He returned with +the theodolite still secured at the angle at which the sight had been +taken. As he laid the instrument on the dining table, he said:</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, uncle, that I did anything about this matter. It was +done in mere sport, and I wish I had said nothing concerning it. I would +not had not Mr. Belford used the language he did."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny ran his eye over the figures in the book, and then, with a +pained expression, he said briefly,</p> + +<p>"Everything seems to be correct."</p> + +<p>"Damnation! I'll break his head for him, the intermeddling fool." This +language was not actually used by Mr. Belford, but he thought as much. +His eyes flashed, and he clenched his fists under the table. Alma's +presence alone restrained him from something more violent. He appeared +calm, but inwardly he was angry. This unexpected announcement +concerning the chimney he had built cast a heavy shadow over him, and +his conscience awoke with a sudden smart.</p> + +<p>Alma was greatly disturbed, and ready to cry for shame and vexation. She +did not, for she felt sure this was only the beginning of a new trouble, +and she well knew that heavy sorrows had already invaded the house. They +needed no more.</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin glanced from one to another in alarm. He saw that he was +treading upon uncertain ground, and he wisely held his peace. After a +brief and awkward pause, Mr. Belford rose, and pleading the calls of +business, went out, and the unhappy interview came to an end.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was a strange room. Its belongings stranger still. A large square +chamber, with windows on three sides and a door and a fireplace on the +other. Just now the fireplace had fallen from its high estate and had +become a catch-all for the wrecks of much unpacking. There was a small +single bed, two chairs, and an indefinite number of tables. Impossible +to say how many, for they were half obscured by numberless things +scientific: microscopes, a retort, small furnace, two cameras, galvanic +battery, coils of wire and rubber tubing, magic lantern, books, +photographs, and papers; on a small desk a confused pile of papers; on +the walls a great number of pictures and photographs.</p> + +<p>The very den of a student of science. Hardly room to walk among the +wilderness of traps, boxes, and trunks. At the window, the young man, +just dressed, and taking a view of the mill and its new chimney.</p> + +<p>"Gad! how mad the fellow was over my little measurements. Wonder what it +all means? The girl's in trouble, the father has a grief, and the +clerk—I can make nothing of him. What matter? My duty is with my books, +that I may pursue pure science. The moment things become practical I +drop 'em."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then he turned and looked out of the next window.</p> + +<p>"Fine view of the river. I must have another try at it with the camera."</p> + +<p>He crossed the room, and standing in the bright morning sunshine, he +looked about to examine the other L that had been thrown out from the +back of the main building.</p> + +<p>"That's Alma's room, and the next is the clerk's, the chimney man. The +window is open, and the place looks as dark as a cave. I've a mind to +light it up."</p> + +<p>So saying he took a small hand mirror from a table near by. Holding it +in the full sunlight, he moved it slowly about till the dancing spot of +reflected light fell upon the open window and leaped in upon the +opposite wall of the room. The observer with steady hand moved the spot +of light about till he had probed the room, and found all it contained, +which was nothing save a bed and two chairs.</p> + +<p>"Applied science reports the man is fit for treason, spoils, and that +sort of thing. He has no pictures. His room is a sleeping den. The man +is a——Hallo! Steady there!"</p> + +<p>The door in the room opened, and the student of applied science turned +quickly away with his back to the wall beside his window. Cautiously +raising the mirror, he held it near the window in such a way that in it +he could see all that went on in the other room, without being himself +seen.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he saw something in the glass. Some one appeared at the window, +looked out as if watching for something, and then withdrew into the bare +little sleeping room. Then the figure in the mirror went to the bed and +carefully turned all the clothes back. The student of science watched +the mirror intently. The figure bent over the uncovered mattress and +quietly opened the sacking and took something out. It sat down on the +edge of the disordered bed and proceeded to examine the box or bundle, +whatever it might be, that it had found in the bed.</p> + +<p>Just here there was the sound of a distant door opening and closing. The +figure crouched low on the bed, as if fearing to be seen, and waited +till all was quiet again. Then it slowly opened the box or package, and +took out a folded paper. The student bent over the mirror with the +utmost interest. What did it mean? What would happen next? Nothing in +particular happened. The figure closed the box, returned it to its +hiding place in the bed, and then crept out of the range of reflected +vision.</p> + +<p>Why should the confidential clerk hide papers in his bed? What was the +nature of the documents? A strange affair, certainly, but it did not +concern him, and perhaps he had better drop the subject. He turned to +his books and papers, and for an hour or more was too much occupied with +them to heed aught else.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was a brisk series of taps at his door, like this:</p> + +<p>- - — - - — — - - — —</p> + +<p>"I'm here. Come in."</p> + +<p>Alma, the bright one entered.</p> + +<p>"What a room! Such disorder, Elmer."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It is quite a comfortable den. I've unpacked everything, and—mind +your steps—feel quite at home—thank you."</p> + +<p>"I should say as much. Do look at the dust. I must have Mary up here at +once."</p> + +<p>"Madam, I never allow any female person to touch my traps. Mary may make +the bed, but she must not sweep, nor dust, nor touch anything."</p> + +<p>"Oh! really. Then I'll go at once."</p> + +<p>"Better not."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I've many things to show——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer! What is that—that queer thing on the table? May I look at +it?"</p> + +<p>"That's my new camera."</p> + +<p>"How stupid. I might have known that. Do you take pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Photos? Yes. Will you sit?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no. I hate photo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>graphs. It's so disagreeable to see oneself +staring with some impossible expression, and sitting in an impossible +palace, with a distant landscape and drapery curtains."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll take a view for you. Find a seat somewhere while I rig +things. See those two people sitting on the little bridge that crosses +the race beyond the mill? I'll photograph them without their +permission."</p> + +<p>Alma looked out of the window when Elmer had raised the curtain, but +declared she couldn't see anything.</p> + +<p>"They are very far off. Take the field glass, and you'll see them."</p> + +<p>Alma took the glass from the table, and looked out on the sunny +landscape.</p> + +<p>"I see what you mean, but I can't make out who they are, even with the +glass. It's a man and a woman, and that's as much as I can see."</p> + +<p>"You shall see them plain enough in a moment."</p> + +<p>So saying, Elmer placed a long brass telescope upon a stand by the open +window, and through it he examined the couple on the bridge. Meanwhile +Alma gazed round the room and examined its strange contents with the +greatest interest.</p> + +<p>The moment the focus of the glass was secured, Elmer hastily took the +little camera, and adjusting a slide in it from a table drawer, he +placed it before the telescope on the table and close to the eye hole. +Then, by throwing a black cloth over his head, he looked into it, turned +a screw or two, and in a moment had a negative of the distant couple.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you almost ready?"</p> + +<p>"In one moment, Alma. I must fix this first. I'll be right back."</p> + +<p>So saying he took the slide from the little camera, and went out of the +room into a dark closet in the entry.</p> + +<p>Alma waited patiently for a few moments, and then she took up the field +glass, and looked out of the window. Who could they be? They seemed to +be having a cosy time together; but beyond the fact that one figure was +a woman she could learn nothing. She wanted to take a look through the +telescope, but did not dare to move the little camera that stood before +it.</p> + +<p>"Here's the picture," said Elmer as he entered the room.</p> + +<p>Alma took the bit of glass he offered her, but declared she couldn't see +anything but a dirty spot on the glass.</p> + +<p>"That's the negative. Let me copy it, and then I'll throw it up with the +stereopticon."</p> + +<p>He selected another bit of glass from a box, and in a few minutes had it +prepared and the two put together and laid in the sun on the +window-seat.</p> + +<p>"What's in that iron box, Elmer?"</p> + +<p>"Nitrous oxide."</p> + +<p>"The same thing that the dentists use?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Would you like to try a whiff? It's rather jolly, and will not +hurt you in the least."</p> + +<p>Elmer caught up a bit of rubber pipe, secured one end to the iron chest +and inserted the other in a mouthpiece having the proper inhalation and +exhalation valves.</p> + +<p>"Put that in your mouth for a moment."</p> + +<p>Alma, with beautiful confidence, put the tube in her mouth, and in a +moment her pretty head fell back against the back of the chair in deep +sleep. With wonderful speed and skill Elmer rolled a larger camera that +stood in a corner out into the centre of the room, ran in a slide, +adjusted the focus, and before the brief slumber passed had a negative +of the sleeping one.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how odd! What a queer sensation to feel yourself going and going, +off and off, till you don't know where you are!"</p> + +<p>"It is rather queer. I've often taken the gas myself—just for fun. Now, +Alma, if you will let down the curtains, and close the shutters, and +make the room dark, I'll light the lantern and show you the picture."</p> + +<p>Alma shut the blinds, drew down the curtains, and closed all the +shutters save one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Won't it be too dark?"</p> + +<p>"No. It must be quite dark. You can stand here in the middle of the room +and look at that bit of bare wall between the windows. I left that space +clear for a screen."</p> + +<p>Alma eagerly took her place, and said with a laugh:</p> + +<p>"If this is the pursuit of pure science, it is very amusing. I'd like to +study science—in this way."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is rather interesting——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer, it's pitch dark."</p> + +<p>"Never mind. Stand perfectly still and watch the wall. There—there's +the spot of light. Now I'll run in the positive."</p> + +<p>A round spot of white light fell on the unpapered wall, and then two +dusky shadows slid over it, vague, obscure, and gigantic.</p> + +<p>"There are your people. Now I'll adjust the focus. There—look."</p> + +<p>A heavy sob startled him.</p> + +<p>"Oh! It's that hateful Alice Green!"</p> + +<p>Elmer opened the door of the lantern, and the light streamed full upon +Alma. She was bathed in tears, and her shoulders, visible through her +light summer dress, shook with sobs.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing! Oh, it's—nothing—let me—go——"</p> + +<p>With an impatient gesture she tried to brush the tears from her eyes, +and then, without a word, she hastily ran out of the room.</p> + +<p>The student of pure science was surprised beyond measure. What had +happened? What new blunder had he committed? With all his deep study of +things material he was ignorant of things emotional and sentimental. +This exhibition of anger and grief in his pretty cousin utterly +disconcerted him. He did not know what to do, nor what to think, and he +stood in the glare of his lantern for a moment or two in deep thought.</p> + +<p>Then he closed the lantern and turning round, examined the shadowy +picture thrown upon the wall. It represented a young man and a young +woman seated upon the wooden rail of the bridge in the open air, and in +most loving embrace. His arm was about her waist, and he was looking in +her face. His straw hat hid his features, but the face of the young +woman was turned toward the camera that had so perfectly mirrored them +both. She seemed to be a young and pretty girl in the more lowly walks +of life, and her lover seemed to be a gentleman. What a pity he hadn't +looked up! Who could he be? And she? Alma's remark plainly showed that +she at least knew the girl, and for some reason was hotly indignant with +her.</p> + +<p>Thinking he had made trouble enough already, Elmer took one more good +look at the picture, and then prepared to destroy it. Something about +the young man's hat struck him as familiar. It was a panama hat, and had +two ribbons wound round it in a fanciful manner that was not exactly +conventional.</p> + +<p>He silently opened a shutter, and the picture faded away. He drew up the +curtains and looked out on the bridge. The young couple had disappeared. +Poor innocents! They little knew how their pictures had been taken in +spite of themselves, and they little knew the tragic and terrible +consequences that were to flow from the stolen photograph so strangely +made. Elmer took the little slide from the lantern, and was on the point +of shivering it to fragments on the hearthstone, when he paused in deep +thought. Was it wise to destroy it? Had he not better preserve it? +Perhaps he could some day solve the mystery that hung about it, and find +out the cause of Alma's grief and anger. Perhaps he might help her; and +there came a softening about his heart that seemed both new and +wonderfully unscientific.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this the dinner bell rang, and he went down to the +dining-room. Alma sent word that she had a severe headache and could not +appear. Mr. Belford was already there, and he looked at Mr. Franklin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +with an expression that made the young man uncomfortable in spite of +himself. Mr. Denny was unusually thoughtful and silent, and conversation +between the younger men was not particularly brilliant or entertaining. +At last the dreary meal was finished. Mr. Belford rose first and went +out into the hall. Mr. Franklin followed him, and saw something that +quite took his breath away.</p> + +<p>There lay the hat of the photograph, double ribbons and all. Mr. Belford +quietly took it up and put it on, and it fitted him perfectly. Elmer +stopped abruptly and looked at the man with the utmost interest. The +confidential, the chimney builder paid no attention, and quickly passed +on out of the front door.</p> + +<p>"E. Franklin, you have made a discovery. The pursuit of pure science +never showed anything half so interesting as this. You had better raise +a cloud on the subject. Gad! It's cloudy enough already!"</p> + +<p>This to himself as he slowly went up stairs to his room. Selecting a +pipe, he filled it, and finding a comfortable seat, he fired up and +prepared to examine mentally the events of the day.</p> + +<p>"It was the confidential, making love to some village beauty, supposed +to be 'Green,' by name, if not by nature. Alma loves him. That's bad. +Perhaps she's engaged to him. Has she a ring? Yes—saw it the other day. +The affair is cloudy—and—Gad! Blessed if I don't keep that +lantern-slide! It may be of use some day. Come in."</p> + +<p>This last was in response to a knock at the door. Mr. Belford entered, +panama hat with two ribbons in hand.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Mr. Franklin. I thought I might find you here.".</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm at leisure. What can I do for you? Smoke?"</p> + +<p>"No; I can't to-day. The fact is, I've a bad tooth, and smoking troubles +it."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? Let me see it. I'm a bit of a dentist."</p> + +<p>"Are you? That's fortunate, for it aches sadly, and our nearest dentist +is five miles away."</p> + +<p>"Sit right here by the window, where I can have a good light."</p> + +<p>Mr. Belford, a physical coward, could not bear pain; and though he was +unwilling to be under obligations to one whom he considered a mere boy, +he sat down in the proffered chair, and opened his mouth dutifully.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes—<i>dentes sapentia</i>. It's quite gone. Shall I take it out for +you?"</p> + +<p>"Will it be painful?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'll give you nitrous oxide. Without it it might be very painful, +for the tooth is much broken down."</p> + +<p>Mr. Belford hesitated. Had he better place himself so utterly at the +mercy of this young man?</p> + +<p>"It will pass off in a moment, and leave no ill effects behind. You had +better take it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will; but make it very mild, for I am afraid of these +new-fangled notions."</p> + +<p>"You need have no fear," said Elmer, bringing up his iron box of nitrous +oxide, and selecting a pair of forceps from the mass of instruments in +one of his trunks.</p> + +<p>"It's very odd. It's the merest chance that I happened to have a pair of +forceps. Are you ready now? Put this tube in your mouth, and breathe +easily and naturally."</p> + +<p>The patient leaned back in the chair, and the amateur stood silently +watching him.</p> + +<p>"It's a fearful risk, but I'm going to try it. I succeeded with Alma, +and I fancy I can with this fool. He was a fool to run right into my +arms in this fashion. No wonder his wisdom tooth was rotten. I'll have +it out in a moment."</p> + +<p>All this to himself. The patient closed his eyes, and fell into a deep +sleep.</p> + +<p>"Take it strong. It will not hurt you, and I must keep you quiet till +the deed is done."</p> + +<p>High science was to be brought to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> bear upon rascality, and he must move +cautiously and quickly. The instant the patient was unconscious, Elmer +bent over him and turned back his coat, and from the inside pocket he +drew forth a folded paper. He had caught a glimpse of it when he looked +in the man's mouth, and on the spur of the moment he had conceived and +put into practice this bold stroke of applied science. Making the man +comfortable, and giving him a little air with the gas, he opened the +paper and spread it wide open before a pile of books in the full +sunlight. The patient stirred uneasily. With a breathless motion Elmer +plied him with more gas, and he sighed softly and slumbered deeper than +ever. With a spring he reached the camera, rolled it up before the +paper, and set in a new slide. It copied the paper with terrible +certainty, and then, without reading it, Elmer folded the paper up again +and restored it to his patient's pocket.</p> + +<p>The patient revived. He put his hand in his mouth. The tooth was still +there.</p> + +<p>"Why, you didn't touch it?"</p> + +<p>"No. I was delayed a bit. Take the gas again."</p> + +<p>The man submitted, and inhaled more gas. At the instant he slumbered the +forceps were deftly plied and the tooth removed. Bathing the man's face +with water, the young dentist watched him closely till he revived again.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel better?"</p> + +<p>"Better! Why, I'm not hurt! Is it really out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. There it is in the washbowl."</p> + +<p>"You did very well, young man. Excellently. I'm sure I'm much obliged."</p> + +<p>"You're welcome," replied Mr. Franklin. "It was a trifling affair."</p> + +<p>Repeating his thanks, the visitor put on his hat with its two ribbons +and retired.</p> + +<p>For an hour or more the youthful son of science worked over his new +negatives, and then he quietly closed the shutters and lighted his +stereopticon. The first picture he threw upon the wall greatly pleased +him. With half-parted lips, a placid smile, and closed eyes, the +sleeping Alma lived in shadowy beauty before him.</p> + +<p>"Queer such a charming girl should belong to such a fool!"</p> + +<p>Not choice language for a son of pure-eyed science, but history is +history, and the truth must be told.</p> + +<p>"Now for the paper."</p> + +<p>He took Alma's stolen picture from the lantern, and inserted in its +place a positive copy of the paper he had captured from her lover. +Suddenly there flashed upon the wall a document of the most startling +and extraordinary character. He read it through several times before he +could bring himself to understand the peculiar nature of the important +discovery he had made. Long and earnestly he gazed upon the gigantic +writing on the wall, and then he slowly opened one of the shutters, and +the magic writing faded away in the rosy light of the setting sun.</p> + +<p>A moment after, the tea-bell rang. This over, young Mr. Franklin said +he, must go out for his evening constitutional. He wished to be alone. +The events of the day, the discoveries he had made, and, more than all, +Alma's grief and silence at the supper-table, disturbed him. He wished +more air, more freedom to think over these things and to devise some +plan for future action.</p> + +<p>Alma. What of her? Was he not growing to like her—perhaps love her? And +she was engaged to that—that—he could not think of him with patience. +The chimney, the two in the photo, and the strange paper: what did they +all mean? Why were both father and daughter in such evident distress? He +pondered these things as he walked through the shadowy lanes, and then, +about eight o'clock, he returned, in a measure composed and serene.</p> + +<p>There was a light in the parlor, and he went in and found Alma alone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer! I'm glad you've come. It's very lonely here. Father has +gone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> to bed quite ill, and Lawrence asked me to sit up till he +returned. He's gone down to the village on some business. I can't see +why he should. The stores are closed and the last train has gone."</p> + +<p>She made a place for him on the sofa, and he sat down beside her. For +some time they talked indifferently upon various matters—the weather, +the heat of the day, and like trivialities.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she turned upon him, and said, with ill-suppressed excitement:</p> + +<p>"What did you do with it, Elmer?"</p> + +<p>"Do with what?"</p> + +<p>"The picture."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—the lantern slide. I wish I had never made it. It's up stairs +in my room."</p> + +<p>"You didn't know it was Alice Green?"</p> + +<p>"No. How should I? I did not know who either of the people was till the +picture was thrown upon the wall."</p> + +<p>"Do you know now—know both of them, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I think I do. One was Mr.——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Elmer, you may as well say it. It was Lawrence."</p> + +<p>Elmer could think of nothing to say, and wisely said nothing. After a +brief pause Alma said slowly, as if talking to herself:</p> + +<p>"It was a cruel thing to do."</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to be cruel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear—cousin, don't think of it in that way. It was Lawrence who +was so cruel."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It was not very gentlemanly; but perhaps he does not care for—for +this person."</p> + +<p>"He does. The picture was only confirmation of what I had heard before. +I've done with him," she added in a sort of suppressed desperation. "I'm +going to break our engagement this very night. I know it will nearly +break my heart, and father will be very angry; but, Elmer, come nearer; +let me tell you about it. I'm afraid of him. He has such an evil eye, +and you remember the chimney—the day you came—I thought he would kill +you, he was so angry."</p> + +<p>Evidently she was in sore trouble. Even her language was marked by doubt +and difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Advise me, Elmer. Tell me what to do. I hardly know which way to turn, +and I'm so lonely. Father is busy every day, and I can't talk to him. +And Lawrence—I dare not trust him."</p> + +<p>Here she began to cry softly, and hid her face in her handkerchief. The +son of science was perplexed. What should he do or say? All this was new +to him. That a young and pretty girl should appeal to him with such +earnestness disconcerted him, and he did not know how to act. A problem +in triangulation or knotty question in physics would have charmed him +and braced him up for any work. This was so new and so peculiar that he +said, "Don't cry, cousin," and repented it at once as a silly speech.</p> + +<p>"I must. It does me good."</p> + +<p>"Then I would."</p> + +<p>Thereupon they both laughed heartily and felt better. He recovered his +wits at once.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you really love him?"</p> + +<p>The man of science is himself again.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't."</p> + +<p>"Then—well, it's hardly my place to say it."</p> + +<p>"Then break the engagement. That's what you mean. I intend to do so; +but, Elmer, I wish you could be here with me."</p> + +<p>"It would be impossible. Oh! I've an idea."</p> + +<p>"Have you? There! I knew you would help me. You are so bright, Elmer, +and so kind——"</p> + +<p>He nipped her enthusiasm in the bud.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you could telegraph to me from your pocket?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean."</p> + +<p>"You know the letters now perfectly, and if you had your hand on an +armature, you could send off messages quickly?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You know I learned the alphabet in one day, and it's nearly a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +week since you put up that line to my room. Think how we have talked +with it already. And you remember the tea table, when the Lawsons and +the Stebbens were here. Didn't I answer all your questions about Minna +Lawson while I was talking with her by tapping on the table with a +spoon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. So far so good; but now I'm going to try a most dangerous and +difficult piece of scientific work, and you must help me. My plan is for +you to keep in telegraphic communication with me while the interview +goes on. Then, if he is insulting or troublesome, you can call me."</p> + +<p>"How bright of you, Elmer. If Lawrence had been half so good and kind +and bright—if he knew half as much—I might have loved him longer."</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit, and I'll get the lines."</p> + +<p>"May I go too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; come."</p> + +<p>The two went softly up the hall stairs, through the long entry to the L, +and into Elmer's room. They set the lamp on a table, and Elmer dragged +forth from the scientific confusion of the place a collection of +telegraphic apparatus of all kinds.</p> + +<p>"There's the battery. That I'll keep here. There is the recording +instrument. That I'll keep here also. Now you want a small armature to +open and close the current. Wait a bit! I'd better make one."</p> + +<p>Alma sat down on a box, and her new Lohengrin set to work with shears +and file to make something that would answer for an armature and still +be small enough to hide in the hand. Cutting off two small pieces of +insulated copper wire, he bound them together side by side at one end. +The loose ends he separated by crowding a bit of rubber between them, +and then with the file and his knife he removed a part of the insulating +covering till the bright copper showed at the tips of each wire.</p> + +<p>"There! You can hide that in the pocket of your dress, or hold it in +your hand even. When you wish to close the circuit, pinch the wires, and +they will touch each other. When you withdraw the pressure the rubber +will push them apart."</p> + +<p>Alma declared she could do it easily, and the armature having been +connected with the wires and the battery, they both prepared to go to +the parlor.</p> + +<p>Down the stairs they crept, slowly unwinding two delicate coils of +insulated wire as they went, and pushing them back against the wall well +out of sight. When they came to the mats Alma lifted them up, and Elmer +laid the wires down, and then the mats covered them from sight.</p> + +<p>"Now, you sit here, in a comfortable chair, and hide the wires in the +folds of your dress. I'll lead them off over the carpet behind you, and +unless the——Lawrence is brighter than I think he is, he'll not find +them."</p> + +<p>These mysterious operations were hardly completed before the door bell +rang and Lawrence came in. He did not seem particularly pleased to find +Mr. Franklin sitting up with Alma, and the meeting was not very cordial. +After a few unimportant remarks Mr. Franklin said that he must retire.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know, miss, what that puppy said to you. He's been here all +the evening, I dare say."</p> + +<p>"He has, Lawrence; but I will not have my friends spoken of in that +way."</p> + +<p>"Your friends indeed! What do you intend to do about it?"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile her hand, persistently kept in her pocket, nervously moved the +electric armature, and a sudden twinge of pain startled her. Her finger, +caught between the wires, felt the shock of a returning current. +Suddenly the pain flashed again, and she understood it. Elmer was +replying to her. She forced herself to read his words by the pain the +wires caused her, and she spelled out:</p> + +<p>"Keep cool. Don't fear him."</p> + +<p>"Seems to me you're precious silent, miss."</p> + +<p>"One might well keep silence while you use such language as you do, +Lawrence Belford."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who's a better right?"</p> + +<p>"No man has a right not to be a gentleman, and as for your right, I have +decided to withdraw it."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he cried in sudden anger.</p> + +<p>She drew her hand out of her pocket, slowly took off her engagement +ring, and said,</p> + +<p>"That."</p> + +<p>"Oh! We'll have none of that. You may put your ring on again."</p> + +<p>"I shall never wear it again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will."</p> + +<p>"I shall not."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Miss Denny. We'll have no nonsense. You are going to marry +me next week. I suppose you know that mortgage is to be foreclosed on +Monday, and you and your father will be beggars. I know how to stop all +this, and I can do it. Marry me, and go to New York with me on +Wednesday, and the mortgage will be withdrawn."</p> + +<p>"We may find the will before that."</p> + +<p>"Oh! You may, you may. You and your father have been searching for that +will these ten years. You haven't found it yet, and you won't."</p> + +<p>Alma under any ordinary circumstances would have quailed before this +man. As it was, those trails of copper wire down her dress kept her +busy. She rapidly sent off through them nearly all that was said, and +her knight of the battery sat up stairs copying it off alone in his +room, and almost swearing with anger and excitement.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the messages stopped. He listened sharply at the door. Not a +sound. The old house was as still as a grave. Several minutes passed, +and nothing came. What had happened? Had he cut the wires? Had Alma +fainted? Suddenly the sounder spoke out sharp and clear in the silent +room:</p> + +<p>"Elmer, come!"</p> + +<p>He seized a revolver from the bureau, and thrusting it into his pocket, +tore off the white strip of paper that had rolled out of the instrument, +and with it in his hand he went quickly down stairs. He opened the door +without knocking, and advanced into the middle of the room.</p> + +<p>The moment he entered, Alma sprang up from her seat, pulling out the two +wires as she did so, and throwing her arm about the young man, she cried +out in an agony of fear and shame:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer, Elmer! Take me away! Take me to my father!"</p> + +<p>He supported her with his right arm, and turned to face her assailant +with the crumbled ribbon of paper still in his hand.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean, sir? Have you been ill treating my cousin?"</p> + +<p>"Go to bed, boy. It's very late for school children to be up."</p> + +<p>"Your language is insulting, sir. I repeat it. What have you said or +done to Miss Denny?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Come away! come away, Elmer!"</p> + +<p>"None of your business, you puppy."</p> + +<p>"There is no need to ask what you said, sir. I know every word and have +made a copy of it."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Listening, were you?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. Miss Denny has told me. Do you see those wires? They will +entangle you yet and trip you up."</p> + +<p>"Come away, Elmer. Come away."</p> + +<p>"For the present I will retire, sir; but, mark me, your game is nearly +up."</p> + +<p>"By, by, children. Good night. Remember your promise, Miss Denny. The +carriage will be all ready."</p> + +<p>Without heeding this last remark, Elmer, with his cousin on his arm, +withdrew. As they closed the door the telegraph wires caught in the +carpet and broke. The man saw them, and picking one up, he examined it +closely.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he dropped it and turned ashen pale. With all his bravado, he +quailed before those slender wires upon the carpet. He did not +understand them. He guessed they might be some kind of telegraph, but +beyond this everything was vague and mysterious, and they filled him +with guilty alarm and terror.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Charles Barnard.</span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FROM_NORMANDY_TO_THE_PYRENEES" id="FROM_NORMANDY_TO_THE_PYRENEES"></a>FROM NORMANDY TO THE PYRENEES.</h2> + + +<p>The other day, before the first fire of winter, when the deepening dusk +had compelled me to close my book and wheel my chair closer, I indulged +in a retrospect. The objects of it were not far distant, and yet they +seemed already to glow with the mellow tints of the days that are no +more. In the crackling flame the last remnant of the summer appeared to +shrink up and vanish. But the flicker of its destruction made a sort of +fantastic imagery, and in the midst of the winter fire the summer +sunshine seemed to glow. It lit up a series of visible memories.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.</h3> + + +<p>One of the first was that of a perfect day on the coast of Normandy—a +warm, still Sunday in the early part of August. From my pillow, on +waking, I could look at a strip of blue sea and a section of white +cliff. I observed that the sea had never been so brilliant, and that the +cliff was shining like the coast of Paros. I rose and came forth with +the sense that it was the finest day of summer, and that one ought to do +something uncommon by way of keeping it. At Etretal it was uncommon to +take a walk; the custom of the country is to lie all day upon the pebbly +strand watching, as we should say in America, your fellow boarders. Your +leisurely stroll, in a scanty sheet, from your bathing cabin into the +water, and your trickling progress from the water back into your cabin, +form, as a general thing, the sum total of your peregrination. For the +rest you remain horizontal, contemplating the horizon. To mark the day +with a white stone, therefore, it was quite sufficient to stretch my +legs. So I climbed the huge grassy cliff which shuts in the little bay +on the right (as you lie on the beach, head upward), and gained the +bleak white chapel of Notre Dame de la Garde, which a lady told me she +was sure was the original of Matthew Arnold's "Little Gray Church on the +Windy Hill." This is very likely; but the little church to-day was not +gray; neither was the hill windy.</p> + +<p>I had occasion, by the time I reached the summit, to wish it had been. +Deep, silent sunshine filled the air, and the long grass of the downs +stood up in the light without a tremor. The downs at Etretal are +magnificent, and the way they stretched off toward Dieppe, with their +shining levels and their faintly-shaded dells, was in itself an +irresistible invitation. On the land side they have been somewhat +narrowed by cultivation; the woods, and farms, and grain fields here and +there creep close enough to the edge of the cliff almost to see the +shifting of the tides at its base. But cultivation in Normandy is itself +picturesque, and the pedestrian rarely need resent its encroachments. +Neither walls nor hedges or fences are anywhere visible; the whole land +lies open to the breezes and to his curious footsteps. This universal +absence of barriers gives an air of vastness to the landscape, so that +really, in a little French province, you have more of the feeling of +being in a big country than on our own huge continent, which bristles so +unconsciously with prohibitory rails and stone-piles. Norman farmhouses, +too, with their mossy roofs and their visible beams making all kinds of +triangles upon the ancient plaster of their walls, are very delightful +things. Hereabouts they have always a dark little wood close beside +them; often a <i>chênaie</i>, as the term is—a fantastic little grove of +tempest-tossed oaks. The trees look as if, some night, when the +sea-blasts were howling their loudest and their boughs were tossing +most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> wildly, the tumult had suddenly been stilled and they had stopped +short, each in the attitude into which the storm was twisting it. The +only thing the storm can do with them now is to blow them straight. The +long, indented coast line had never seemed to me so charming. It +stretched away into the light haze of the horizon, with such lovely +violet spots in its caves and hollows, and such soft white gleams on its +short headlands—such exquisite gradations of distance and such +capricious interruptions of perspective—that one could only say that +the land was really trying to smile as hard as the sea. The smile of the +sea was a positive simper. Such a glittering and twinkling, such a +softness and blueness, such tiny little pin-points of foam, and such +delicate little wrinkles of waves—all this made the ocean look like a +flattered portrait.</p> + +<p>The day I speak of was a Sunday, and there were to be races at Fécamp, +ten miles away. The agreeable thing was, of course, to walk to Fécamp, +over the grassy downs. I walked and walked, over the levels and the +dells, having land and ocean quite to myself. Here and there I met a +shepherd, lying flat on his stomach in the sun, while his sheep, in +extreme dishabille (shearing time being recent), went huddling in front +of me as I approached. Far below, on the blue ocean, like a fly on a +table of lapis, crawled a little steamer, carrying people from Etretal +to the races. I seemed to go much faster, yet the steamer got to Fécamp +before me. But I stopped to gossip with a shepherd on a grassy hillside, +and to admire certain little villages which are niched in small, +transverse, seaward-sloping valleys. The shepherd told me that he had +been farm-servant to the same master for five-and-thirty years—ever +since the age of ten; and that for thirty-five summers he had fed his +flock upon those downs. I don't know whether his sheep were tired of +their diet, but he professed himself very tired of his life. I remarked +that in fine weather it must be charming, and he observed, with +humility, that to thirty-five summers there went several rainy days.</p> + +<p>The walk to Fécamp would be purely delightful if it were not for the +<i>fonds</i>. The <i>fonds</i> are the transverse valleys just mentioned—the +channels, for the most part, of small water-courses which discharge +themselves into the sea. The downs subside, precipitately, to the level +of the beach, and then slowly lift their grassy shoulders on the other +side of the gully. As the cliffs are of immense height, these +indentations are profound, and drain off a little of the exhilaration of +the too elastic pedestrian. The first <i>fond</i> trike him as delightfully +picturesque, and he is down the long slope on one side and up the +gigantic hump on the other before he has time to feel hot. But the +second is greeted with that tempered <i>empressement</i> with which you bow +in the street to an acquaintance with whom you have met half an hour +before; the third is a stale repetition; the fourth is decidedly one too +many, and the fifth is sensibly exasperating. The <i>fonds</i>, in a word, +are very tiresome. It was, if I remember rightly, in the bottom of the +last and widest of the series that I discovered the little town of +Yport. Every little fishing village on the Norman coast has, within the +last ten years, set up in business as a watering-place; and, though one +might fancy that Nature had condemned Yport to modest obscurity, it is +plain that she has no idea of being out of the fashion. But she is a +miniature imitation of her rivals. She has a meagre little wood behind +her and an evil-smelling beach, on which bathing is possible only at the +highest tide. At the scorching mid-day hour at which I inspected her she +seemed absolutely empty, and the ocean, beyond acres of slippery +seaweed, looked very far away. She has everything that a properly +appointed <i>station de bains</i> should have, but everything is on a +Lilliputian scale. The whole place looked like a huge Nü<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>remburg toy. +There is a diminutive hotel, in which, properly, the head waiter should +be a pigmy and the chambermaid a sprite, and beside it there is a +<i>Casino</i> on the smallest possible scale. Everything about the <i>Casino</i> +is so harmoniously undersized that it seems a matter of course that the +newspapers in the reading-room should be printed in the very finest +type. Of course there is a reading-room, and a dancing-room, and a +<i>café</i>, and a billiard-room, with a bagatelle board instead of a table, +and a little terrace on which you may walk up and down with very short +steps. I hope the prices are as tiny as everything else, and I suspect, +indeed, that Yport honestly claims, not that she is attractive, but that +she is cheap.</p> + +<p>I toiled up the perpendicular cliff again, and took my way over the +grass, for another hour, to Fécamp, where I found the peculiarities of +Yport directly reversed. The place is a huge, straggling village, seated +along a wide, shallow bay, and adorned, of course, with the classic +<i>Casino</i> and the row of hotels. But all this is on a very brave scale, +though it is not manifest that the bravery of Fécamp has won a victory; +and, indeed, the local attractions did not strike me as irresistible. A +pebbly beach of immense length, fenced off from the town by a grassy +embankment; a <i>Casino</i> of a bold and unsociable aspect; a principal inn, +with an interminable brown façade, suggestive somehow of an asylum or an +almshouse—such are the most striking features of this particular +watering-place. There are magnificent cliffs on each side of the bay, +but, as the French say, without impropriety, it is the devil to get to +them. There was no one in the hotel, in the Casino, or on the beach; the +whole town being in the act of climbing the further cliff, to reach the +downs on which the races were to be held. The green hillside was black +with trudging spectators and the long sky line was fretted with them. +When I say there was no one at the inn, I forget the gentleman at the +door who informed me positively that he would give me no breakfast; he +seemed to have staid at home from the races expressly to give himself +this pleasure. But I went further and fared better, and procured a meal +of homely succulence, in an unfashionable tavern, in a back street, +where the wine was sound, the cutlets tender, and the serving-maid rosy. +Then I walked along—for a mile, it seemed—through a dreary, gray +<i>grand rue</i>, where the sunshine was hot, the odors portentous, and the +doorsteps garnished with aged fishwives, retired from business, whose +plaited linen coifs looked picturesquely white, and their faces +picturesquely brown. I inspected the harbor and its goodly basin—with +nothing in it—and certain pink and blue houses, which surround it, and +then, joining the last stragglers, I clambered up the side of the cliff +to the downs.</p> + +<p>The races had already begun, and the ring of spectators was dense. I +picked out some of the smallest people, looked over their heads, and saw +several young farmers, in parti-colored jackets, and very red in the +face, bouncing up and down on handsome cart-horses. Satiated at last +with this diversion, I turned away and wandered down the hill again; and +after strolling through the streets of Fécamp, and gathering not a +little of the wayside entertainment that a seaport and fishing town +always yields, I repaired to the Abbey church, a monument of some +importance, and almost as great an object of pride in the town as the +Casino. The Abbey of Fécamp was once a very rich and powerful +establishment, but nothing remains of it now save its church and its +<i>trappistine</i>. The church, which is for the most part early Gothic, is +very stately and picturesque, and the <i>trappistine</i>, which is a +distilled liquor of the <i>Chartreuse</i> family, is much prized by people +who take a little glass after their coffee. By the time I had done with +the Abbey, the townsfolk had slid <i>en masse</i> down the cliff again, the +yel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>low afternoon had come, and the holiday takers, before the +wine-shops, made long and lively shadows. I hired a sort of two-wheeled +gig, without a board, and drove back to Etretal in the rosy stage of +evening. The gig dandled me up and down in a fashion of which I had been +unconscious since I left off baby-clothes; but the drive, through the +charming Norman country, over roads which lay among the peaceful meadows +like paths amid a park, was altogether delightful. The sunset gave a +deeper mellowness to the standing crops, and in the grassiest corner of +the wayside villages the young men and maidens were dancing like the +figures in vignette illustrations of classic poets.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.</h3> + + +<p>You may say there is nothing in this very commonplace adventure to +sentimentalize about, and that when one plucks sentimentally a brand +from the burning one should pick out a more valuable one. I certainly +call it a picked day, at any rate, when I went to breakfast at St. +Jouin, at the beautiful Ernestine's. Don't be alarmed; if I was just now +too tame, I am not turning wild. The beautiful Ernestine is not my +especial beauty, but every one's, and to contemplate her charms you have +only to order breakfast. They shine forth the more brilliantly in +proportion as your order is liberal, and Ernestine is beautiful +according as your bill is large. In this case she comes and smiles, +really very handsomely, around your table, and you feel some hesitation +in accusing so well-favored a person of extortion. She keeps an inn at +the end of a lane which diverges from the high road between Etretal and +Havre, and it is an indispensable feature of your "station" at the +former place that you choose some fine morning and seek her hospitality. +She has been a celebrity these twenty years, and is no longer a simple +maiden in her flower; but twenty years, if they have diminished her +early bloom, have richly augmented her <i>museé</i>. This is a collection of +all the verses and sketches, the autographs, photographs, monographs, +and trinkets presented to the amiable hostess by admiring tourists. It +covers the walls of her sitting-room and fills half a dozen big albums +which you look at while breakfast is being prepared, just as if you were +awaiting dinner in genteel society. Most Frenchmen of the day whom one +has heard of appear to have called at St. Jouin, and to have left their +<i>homages</i>. Each of them has turned a compliment with pen or pencil, and +you may see in a glass case on the parlor wall what Alexandre Dumas, +Fils, thought of the landlady's nose, and how several painters measured +her ankles.</p> + +<p>Of course you must make this excursion in good company, and I affirm +that I was in the very best. The company prefers, equally of course, to +have its breakfast in the orchard in front of the house; which, if the +repast is good, will make it seem better still, and if it is poor, will +carry off its poorness. Clever innkeepers should always make their +victims (in tolerable weather) eat in the garden. I forget whether +Ernestine's breakfast was intrinsically good or bad, but I distinctly +remember enjoying it, and making everything welcome. Everything, that +is, save the party at the other table—the Paris actresses and the +American gentlemen. The combination of these two classes of persons, +individually so delightful, results in certain phenomena which seem less +in harmony with appleboughs and summer breezes than with the gas lamps +and thick perfumes of a <i>cabinet particulier</i>, and yet it was +characteristic of this odd mixture of things that Mlle. Ernestine, +coming to chat with her customers, should bear a beautiful infant on her +arm, and smile with artless pride on being assured of its filial +resemblance to herself. She looked decidedly handsome as she caressed +this startling attribute of quiet spinsterhood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>St. Jouin is close to the sea and to the finest cliffs in the world. One +of my companions, who had laden the carriage with his painting traps, +went off into a sunny meadow to take the portrait of a windmill, and I, +choosing the better portion, wandered through a little green valley with +the other. Ten minutes brought us to the edge of the cliffs, which at +this point of the coast are simply sublime. I had been thinking the +white sea-walls of Etretal the finest thing conceivable in this way, but +the huge red porphoritic-looking masses of St. Jouin have an even +grander character. I have rarely seen anything more picturesque. They +are strange, fantastic, out of keeping with the country, and for some +rather arbitrary reason suggested to me a Spanish or even African +landscape. Certain sun-scorched precipices in Spanish Sierras must have +very much the same warmth of tone and desolation of attitude. A very +picturesque feature of the cliffs of St. Jouin is that they are double +in height, as one may say. Falling to an immense depth, they encounter a +certain outward ledge, or terrace, where they pause and play a dozen +fantastic tricks, such as piling up rocks into the likeness of needles +and watch-towers; then they plunge again, and in another splendid sweep +descend to the beach. There was something very impressive in the way +their evil brows, looking as if they were all stained with blood and +rust, were bent upon the blue expanse of the sleeping sea.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.</h3> + + +<p>In a month of beautiful weather at Etretal, every day was not an +excursion, but every day seemed indeed a picked day. For that matter, as +I lay on the beach watching the procession of the easy-going hours, I +took a good many mental excursions. The one, perhaps, on which I +oftenest started was a comparison between French manners, French habits, +French types, and those of my native land. These comparisons are not +invidious; I don't conclude against one party and in favor of the other; +as the French say, <i>je constate</i> simply. The French people about me were +"spending the summer" just as I had so often seen my fellow countrymen +spend it, and it seemed to me, as it had seemed to me at home, that this +operation places men and women under a sort of monstrous magnifying +glass. The human figure has a higher relief in the country than in town, +and I know of no place where psychological studies prosper so as at the +seaside. I shall not pretend to relate my observations in the order in +which they occurred to me (or indeed to relate them in full at all); but +I may say that one of the foremost was to this effect—that the summer +question, for every one, had been more easily settled than it usually is +at home. The solution of the problem of where to go had not been a +thin-petalled rose, plucked from among particularly sharp-pointed +thorns. People presented themselves with a calmness and freshness very +different from the haggard legacy of that fevered investigation which +precedes the annual exodus of the American citizen and his family. This +impression, with me, rests perhaps on the fact that most Frenchwomen +turned of thirty—the average wives and mothers—are so comfortably fat. +I have never seen such massive feminine charms as among the mature +<i>baigneuses</i> of Etratal. The lean and desiccated person into whom a +dozen years of matrimony so often converts the blooming American girl +has no apparent correlative in the French race. A majestic plumpness +flourished all around me—the plumpness of triple chins and deeply +dimpled hands. I mused upon it, and I concluded that it was the result +of the best breakfasts and dinners in the world. It was the corpulence +of ladies who are thoroughly well fed, and who never walk a step that +they can spare. The assiduity with which the women of America measure +the length of our democratic pavements<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> is doubtless a factor in their +frequent absence of redundancy of outline. As a "regular boarder" at the +Hotel Blanquet—pronounced by Anglo-Saxon visitors Blanket—I found +myself initiated into the mysteries of the French dietary system. I +assent to the common tradition that the French are a temperate people, +so long as it is understood in this sense—that they eat no more than +they want to. But they want to eat so much! Their capacity strikes me as +enormous, and we ourselves, if we are less regulated, are certainly much +more slender consumers.</p> + +<p>The American breakfast has, I believe, long been a subject of irony to +the foreign observer; but the American breakfast is an ascetic meal +compared with the French <i>déjeuner à la fourchette</i>. The latter, indeed, +is simply a dinner without soup; it differs neither generically nor +specifically from the evening repast. If it excludes soup, it includes +eggs, prepared in a hundred forms; and if it proscribes champagne, it +admits beer in foaming pitchers, so that the balance is fairly +preserved. I think it is rarely that an American will not feel a certain +sympathetic heaviness in the reflection that a French family that sits +down at half past eleven to fish and entrées and roasts, to asparagus +and beans, to salad and dessert, and cheese and coffee, proposes to do +exactly the same thing at dinner time. But we may be sure at any rate +that the dinner will be as good as the breakfast, and that the breakfast +has nothing to fear from prospective comparison with the dinner; and we +may further reflect that in a country where eating is a peculiarly +unalloyed pleasure it is natural that this pleasure should be prolonged +and reiterated. Nothing is more noticeable among the French than their +superior intelligence in dietary matters; every one seems naturally a +judge, a dilettante. They have analyzed tastes and savors to a finer +point than we; they are aware of differences and relations of which we +take no heed. Observe a Frenchman of any age and of any station (I have +been quite as much struck with it in the very young men as in the old) +as he orders his breakfast or his dinner at a Parisian restaurant, and +you will perceive that the operation is much more solemn than it is apt +to be in New York or in London. (In London, indeed, it is intellectually +positively brutal.) Monsieur has, in a word, a certain ideal for that +particular repast, and it will make a difference in his happiness +whether the kidneys, for instance, of a certain style, are chopped to +the ultimate or only to the penultimate smallness. His directions and +admonitions to the waiter are therefore minute and exquisite, and +eloquently accentuated by the pressure of thumb and forefinger; and it +must be added that the imagination of the waiter is usually quite worthy +of the refined communion thus opened to it.</p> + +<p>This subtler sense of quality is observable even among those classes in +which in other countries it is generally forestalled by a depressing +consciousness on the subject of quantity. Watch your Parisian porter and +his wife at their mid-day meal, as you pass up and down stairs. They are +not satisfying nature upon green tea and potatoes; they are seated +before a meal which has been reasoned out, which, on its modest scale, +is served in courses, and has a beginning, a middle, and an end. I will +not say that the French sense of comfort is confined to the philosophy +of nutrition, but it is certainly higher at this point (and perhaps one +other) than it is elsewhere. French people must have a good dinner and a +good bed; but they are willing that the bed should be stationed and the +dinner be eaten in the most unpleasant neighborhoods. Your porter and +his wife dine grandly and sleep soft in their lodge, but their lodge is +in all probability a fetid black hole, five feet square, in which, in +England or in America, people of their talents would never consent to +live. French people consent to live in the dark, to huddle together, to +forego privacy, and to let bad smells grow great among<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> them. They have +an accursed passion for coquettish furniture: for cold, brittle chairs, +for tables with scolloped edges, for ottomans without backs, for +fireplaces muffled in plush and fringe and about as cheerful as a +festooned hearse. A French bedroom is a bitter mockery—a ghastly +attempt to serve two masters which succeeds in being agreeable to +neither. It is a thing of traps and delusions, constructed on the +assumption that it is inelegant to be known to wash or to sleep, and yet +pervaded with suggestions of uncleanness compared with which a +well-wrung bathing sponge, well <i>en evidence</i>, is a delightful symbol of +purity. This comes of course from that supreme French quality, the +source of half the charm of the French mind as well of all its dryness, +the genius for economy. It is wasting a room to let it be a bedroom +alone; so it must be tricked out as an ingeniously contrived +sitting-room, and ends by being (in many cases) insufferable both by +night and by day. But allowing all weight to these latter reflections, +it is still very possible that the French have the better part. If you +are well fed, you can perhaps afford to be ill lodged; whereas, I doubt +whether enjoyment of the most commodious apartments is compatible with +inanition and dyspepsia.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV.</h3> + + +<p>If I had not cut short my mild retrospect by these possibly milder +generalizations, I should have touched lightly upon some of the social +phenomena of which the little beach at Etretal was the scene. I shall +have narrated that the French, at the seaside, are not "sociable" as +Americans affect to be in a similar situation, and I should subjoin that +at Etretal it was very well on the whole that they were not. The +immeasurably greater simplicity of composition of American society makes +sociability with us a comparatively untaxed virtue; but anything like +an equal exercise of it in France would be attended with alarming perils +and inconveniences. Sociability (in the American sense of the word) in +any aristocratic country would indeed be very much like an attempt to +establish visiting relations between birds and fishes. At Etretal no +making of acquaintance was observable; people went about in compact, +cohesive groups, of natural formation, governed doubtless, internally, +by humane regulation, but presenting to the world an impenetrable +defensive front. These groups usually formed a solid phalanx about two +or three young girls, compressed into the centre, the preservation of +whose innocence was their chief solicitude. Here, doubtless, the groups +were acting wisely, for with half a dozen <i>cocottes</i>, in scarlet +petticoats, scattered over the sunny, harmless looking beach, what were +mammas and duennas to do? In order that there should be a greater number +of approachable-irreproachable young girls in France there must first be +a smaller number of <i>cocottes</i>. It is not impossible, indeed, that if +the approachable-irreproachable young ladies were more numerous, the +<i>cocottes</i> would be less numerous. If by some ingenious sumptuary +enactment the latter class could be sequestrated or relegated to the +background for a certain period—say ten years—the latter might +increase and multiply, and quite, in vulgar parlance, get the start of +it.</p> + +<p>And yet after all this is a rather superficial reflection, for the +excellent reason that the very narrow peep at life allowed to young +French girls is not regarded, either by the young girls themselves or by +those who have their felicity most at heart, as a grave privation. The +case is not nearly so hard as it would be with us, for there is this +immense difference between the lot of the <i>jeune fille</i> and her American +sister, that the former may as a general thing be said to be certain to +marry. "Ay, to marry ill," the Anglo-Saxon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> objector may reply. But the +objection is precipitate; for if French marriages are almost always +arranged, it must be added that they are in the majority of cases +arranged well. Therefore, if a <i>jeune fille</i> is for three or four years +tied with a very short rope and compelled to browse exclusively upon the +meagre herbage which sprouts in the maternal shadow, she has at least +the comfort of reflecting that according to the native phrase, <i>on +s'occupe de la marier</i>—that measures are being carefully taken to +promote her to a condition of unbounded liberty. Whatever, to her +imagination, marriage may fail to mean, it at least means freedom and +consideration. It does not mean, as it so often means in America, being +socially shelved—and it is not too much to say, in certain circles, +degraded; it means being socially launched and consecrated. It means +becoming that exalted personage, a <i>mère de famille</i>. To be a <i>mère de +famille</i> is to occupy not simply (as is rather the case with us) a +sentimental, but a really official position. The consideration, the +authority, the domestic pomp and circumstance allotted to a French mamma +are in striking contrast with the amiable tolerance which in our own +social order is so often the most liberal measure that the female parent +may venture to expect at her children's hands, and which, on the part of +the young lady of eighteen who represents the family in society, is not +infrequently tempered by a conscientious severity. All this is worth +waiting for, especially if you have not to wait very long. Mademoiselle +is married certainly, and married early, and she is sufficiently well +informed to know, and to be sustained by the knowledge, that the +sentimental expansion which may not take place at present will have an +open field after her marriage. That it should precede her marriage seems +to her as unnatural as that she should put on her shoes before her +stockings. And besides all this, to browse in the maternal shadow is not +considered in the least a hardship. A young French girl who is <i>bien +élevée</i>—an expression which means so much—will be sure to consider her +mother's company the most delightful in the world, and to think that the +herbage which sprouts about this lady's petticoats is peculiarly tender +and succulent. It may be fanciful, but it often seems to me that the +tone with which such a young girl says <i>Ma mère</i> has a peculiar +intensity of meaning. I am at least not wrong in affirming that in the +accent with which the mamma—especially if she be of the well-rounded +order alluded to above—speaks of <i>Ma fille</i> there is a kind of +sacerdotal dignity.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="V" id="V"></a>V.</h3> + + +<p>After this came two or three pictures of quite another +complexion—pictures of which a long green valley, almost in the centre +of France, makes the general setting. The valley itself, indeed, forms +one delightful picture, although the country which surrounds it is by no +means a show region. It is the old region of the Gâtinais, which has +plenty of history, but no great beauty. It is very still, deliciously +rural, and immitigably French. Normandy is Norman, Gascony is Gascon, +but this is France itself—the typical, average, "pleasant" France of +history, literature, and art—of art, of landscape art, perhaps, +especially. Wherever I look in the country I seem to see one of the +familiar pictures on a dealer's wall—a Lambinet, a Troyon, a Daubigny, +a Diaz. The Lambinets perhaps are in the majority; the mood of the +landscape usually expresses itself in silvery lights and vivid greens. +The history of this part of France is the history of the monarchy, and +its language is, I won't say absolutely the classic tongue, but a nearer +approach to it than any local <i>patois</i>. The peasants deliver themselves +with rather a drawl, but what they speak is good clean French that any +cockney can understand, which is more than can be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> said sometimes for +the violent jargon that emanates from the fishing folk of Etretal.</p> + +<p>Each side of the long valley is a long low ridge, which offers it a +high, bosky horizon, and through the middle of it there flows a charming +stream, wandering, winding, and doubling, smothered here and there in +rocks, and spreading into lily-coated reaches, beneath the clear shadow +of tall, straight, light-leaved trees. On each side of the stream the +meadows stretch away flat, clean, and magnificent, lozenged across with +rows of sober foliage under which a cow-maiden sits on the grass hooting +now and then, nasally, to the large-uddered browsers in front of her. +There are no hedges, nor palings, nor walls; it is all a single estate. +Here and there in the meadows stands a cluster of red-roofed +hovels—each a diminutive village. At other points, at about half an +hour's walk apart, are three charming old houses. The châteaux are +extremely different, but, both picturesquely and conveniently, each has +its points. They are very intimate with each other, so that these points +may be amicably discussed. The points in one case, however, are +remarkably strong. The château stands directly in the little river I +have mentioned, on an island just great enough to hold it, and the +garden flowers grow upon the further bank. This, of course, is a most +delightful affair. But I found something very agreeable in the aspect of +one of the others, when I made it the goal of certain of those walks +before breakfast which of cool mornings in the late summer do not fall +into the category of ascetic pleasures. (In France, indeed, if one did +not do a great many things before breakfast, the work of life would be +but meagerly performed.)</p> + +<p>The dwelling in question stands on the top of the long ridge which +encloses the comfortable valley to the south, being by its position +quite in the midst of its appurtenant acres. It is not particularly +"kept up," but its quiet rustiness and untrimmedness only help it to be +picturesque. A grassy plateau approaches it from the edge of the hill, +bordered on one side by a short avenue of horse-chestnuts, and on the +other by a dusky wood. Beyond the chestnuts are the steep-roofed, +yellow-walled farm buildings, and under cover of the wood a stretch of +beaten turf, where, on Sundays and holidays, the farm-servants play at +bowls. Directly before the château is a little square garden enclosed by +a low stone parapet, interrupted by a high gateway of mossy pillars and +iron arabesques, the whole of it overclambered by flowering vines. The +house, with its yellow walls and russet roof, is ample and substantial; +it is a very proper <i>gentilhommière</i>. In a corner of the garden, at the +angle of the parapet, rises that classic emblem of rural gentility, the +<i>pigeonnier</i>, the old stone dovecote. It is a great round tower, as +broad of base as a lighthouse, with its roof shaped like an +extinguisher, and a big hole in its upper portion, in and out of which a +dove is always fluttering.</p> + +<p>You see all this from the windows of the drawing-room. Be sure that the +drawing-room is pannelled in white and gray, with old rococo moulding +over the doorways and mantlepiece. The open garden gateway, with its +tangled vines, makes a frame for the picture that lies beyond the little +grassy esplanade where the thistles have been suffered to grow around a +disused stone well, placed at quaint remoteness from the house (if, +indeed, it is not a relic of an earlier habitation), a picture of a wide +green country rising beyond the unseen valley, and stretching away to a +far horizon in deep blue lines of wood. Behind, through other windows, +you look out on the gardens proper. There are places that take one's +fancy by some accident of expression, by some mystery of accident. This +one is high and breezy, both sunny and shady, plain yet picturesque, +extremely cheerful,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> and a little melancholy. It has what in the arts is +called "style," and so it took mine.</p> + +<p>Going to call on the peasants was as charming an affair as a chapter in +one of George Sand's rural tales. I went one Sunday morning with my +hostess, who knew them well and engaged their most garrulous confidence. +I don't mean that they told her all their secrets, but they told her a +good many; if the French peasant is a simpleton, he is a very shrewd +simpleton. At any rate, of a Sunday morning in August, when he is +stopping at home from work, and he has put on his best jacket and +trowsers, and is loafing at the door of his neighbor's cabin, he is a +very charming person. The peasantry in the region I speak of had +admirably good manners. The curé gave me a low account of their morals; +by which he meant, on the whole, I suspect, that they were moderate +church-goers. But they have the instinct of civility and a talent for +conversation; they know how to play the host and the entertainer. By +"he," just now, I meant <i>she</i> quite as much; it is rare that, in +speaking superlatively of the French, in any connection, one does not +think of the women even more than of the men. They constantly strike the +foreigner as a stronger expression of the qualities of the race. On the +occasion I speak of the first room in the very humble cabins I +successively visited—in some cases, evidently, it was the only +room—had been set into irreproachable order for the day. It had usually +a sort of brown-toned picturesqueness, begotten of the high +chimney-place, with its swinging pots, the important bed, in its dusky +niche, with its flowered curtains, the big-bellied earthenware on the +cupboard, the long-legged clock in the corner, the thick, quiet light of +the small, deeply-set window; the mixture, on all things, of smoke-stain +and the polish of horny hands. Into the midst of this "la Rabillon" or +"la Mère Léger" brings forward her chairs and begs us to be seated, and +seating herself, with crossed hands, smiles handsomely and answers +abundantly all questions about her cow, her husband, her bees, her eggs, +and her last-born. The men linger half outside and half in, with their +shoulders against dressers and door-posts; every one smiles, with that +simple, clear-eyed smile of the gratified peasant; they talk much more +like George Sand's Berrichons than might be supposed. And if they +receive us without gross awkwardness, they speed us on our way with +proportionate urbanity. I go to six or eight little hovels, all of them +dirty outside and clean within; I am entertained everywhere with the +<i>bonhomie</i>, the quaintness, the good faces and good manners of their +occupants, and I finish my tour with an esteem for my new acquaintance +which is not diminished by learning that several of them have thirty or +forty thousand francs securely laid by.</p> + +<p>And yet, as I say, M. le Curé thinks they are in a bad way, and he knows +something about them. M. le Curé, too, is not a dealer in scandal; there +is something delightfully quaint in the way in which he deprecates an +un-Christian construction of his words. There is more than one curé in +the valley whose charms I celebrate; but the worthy priest of whom I +speak is the pearl of the local priesthood. He has been accused, I +believe, of pretentions to what is called <i>illuminisme</i>; but even in his +most illuminated moments it can never occur to him that he has been +chronicled in an American magazine, and therefore it is not indiscreet +to say that he is the curé, not of Gy, but of the village nearest to Gy. +I write this sentence half for the pleasure of putting down that +briefest of village names and seeing how it looks in print. But it may +be elongated at will, and yet be only improved. If you wish to be very +specific, you may call it Gy-les-Nonnains—Gy of the Little Nuns. I went +with my hostess, another morning, to call<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> upon M. le Curé, who himself +opened his garden door to us (there was a crooked little black cross +perched upon it), and, lifting his rusty <i>calotte</i>, stood there a moment +in the sunshine, smiling a greeting more benignant than words.</p> + +<p>A rural <i>presbytère</i> is not a very sumptuous dwelling, and M. le Curé's +little drawing room reminded me of a Yankee parlor (<i>minus</i> the +subscription books from Hartford, on the centre-table) in some +out-of-the-way corner of New England. But he took us into his very +diminutive garden, and showed us an ornament that would not have +flourished in the shade of a Yankee parlor—a rude stone image of the +Virgin, which he had become possessed of I know not how, and for which +he was building a sort of niche in the wall. The work was going on +slowly, for he must take the labor as he could get it; but he appealed +to his visitors, with a smile of indulgent irony, for an assurance that +his little structure would not make too bad a figure. One of them told +him that she would send him some white flowers to set out round his +statue; whereupon he clasped his hands together over his snuff-box and +expressed cheerful views of the world we live in. A couple of days +afterward he came to breakfast, and, of course, he arrived early, in his +new cassock and band. I found him in the billiard-room, walking up and +down alone, and reading his breviary. The combination of the locality, +the personage, and the occupation made me smile; and I smiled again +when, after breakfast, I found him walking up and down the garden, +puffing a cigarette. Of course he had an excellent appetite; but there +is something rather cruel in those alternations of diet to which the +French parish priest is subjected. At home he lives like a peasant—a +fact which, in itself, is not particularly cruel, inasmuch as he is +usually a peasant born. But his fellow peasants don't breakfast at the +château and gaze adown the savory vistas opened by cutlets à la +Soubise. They have not the acute pain of being turned back into the +stale atmosphere of bread and beans. Of course it is by no means every +day or every week even that M. le Curé breakfasts at the château; but +there must nevertheless be a certain uncomfortable crookedness in his +position. He lives like a laborer, and yet he is treated like a +gentleman. The latter character must seem to him sometimes a rather +heavy irony on the other. But to the ideal curé, of course, all +characters are equal; he thinks neither too ill of his bad breakfasts, +nor too well of his good ones. I won't say that the excellent man I +speak of is the ideal curé, but I suspect he is an approach to it; he +has a grain of epicureanism to an ounce of stoicism. In the garden path, +beside the moat, while he puffed his cigarette, he told me how he had +held up his head to the Prussians; for, hard as it seemed to believe it, +that pastoral valley had been occupied by ravaging Teutons. According to +this recital, he had spoken his mind civilly, but most distinctly, to +the group of officers who had made themselves at home in his +dwelling—had informed them that it grieved him profoundly that he was +obliged to meet them standing there in his cassock, and not out in the +fields with a musket in his hands and a dozen congenial spirits at his +side. The scene must have been picturesque. The first of the officers +got up from table and asked for the privilege of shaking his hand. "M. +le Curé," he said, "j'estime hautement votre caractère."</p> + +<p>Six miles away—or nearer, by a charming shaded walk along a canal—was +an ancient town with a legend—a legend which, as a child, I read in my +lesson-book at school, marvelling at the wood-cut above it, in which a +ferocious dog was tearing a strange man to pieces, while the king and +his courtiers sat by as if they were at the circus. I allude to it +chiefly in order to mention the name of one of its promenades, which is +the stateliest, beyond all comparison, in the world; the name, I mean, +not the street. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> latter is called Les Belles Manières. Could +anything be finer than that? With what a sweep gentlemen must once have +taken off their hats there; how ladies must once have curtsied, +regardless of gutters, and how people must have turned up their toes as +they walked!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI.</h3> + + +<p>My next impressions were gathered on the margin of a southern sea—if +the Bay of Biscay indeed deserves so soft-sounding a name. We generally +have a mental image beforehand of a place we think of going to, and I +supposed I had a tolerably vivid prevision of Biarritz. I don't know +why, but I had a singular sense of having been there; the name always +seemed to me expressive. I saw the way it lay along its gleaming beach; +I had taken in imagination the long walks toward Spain over the low +cliffs, with the blue sea always to my right, and the blue Pyrenees +always before me. My only fear was that my mental picture was not +brilliant enough; but this could easily be touched up on the spot. In +truth, however, I was exclusively occupied in toning it down. Biarritz +seemed to be decidedly below its reputation; I am at a loss to see how +its reputation was made. There is a partial explanation that is obvious +enough. There is a low, square, bare brick mansion seated on the sands, +under shelter of a cliff; it is one of the first objects to attract the +attention of an arriving stranger. It is not picturesque, it is not +romantic, and even in the days of its prosperity it never can have been +impressive. It is called the Villa Eugénie, and it explains in a great +measure, as I say, the Biarritz which the arriving stranger, with some +dismay, perceives about him. It has the aspect of one of the "cottages" +of Newport during the winter season, and is surrounded by an even +scantier umbrage than usually flourishes in the vicinity of those +establishments. It was what the newspapers call the "favorite resort" +of the ex-Empress of the French, who might have been seen at her +imperial avocations with a good glass at any time from the Casino. The +Casino, I hasten to add, has quite the air of an establishment +frequented by gentlemen who look on ladies' windows with telescopes. +There are Casinos and Casinos, and that of Biarritz is, in the summary +French phrase, "impossible." Except for its view, it is moreover very +unattractive. Perched on the top of a cliff which has just space enough +to hold its immense brick foundations, it has no garden, no promenade, +no shade, no place of out-of-door reunion—the most indispensable +feature of a Casino. It turns its back to the Pyrenees and to Spain, and +looks out prettily enough over a blue ocean to an arm of the low French +coast.</p> + +<p>Biarritz, for the rest, scrambles over two or three steep hills, +directly above the sea, in a promiscuous, many-colored, noisy fashion. +It is a watering-place, pure and simple; every house has an expensive +little shop in the basement, and a still more expensive set of rooms to +let above stairs. The houses are blue, and pink, and green; they stick +to the hillsides as they can, and being near Spain, you try to fancy +they look Spanish. You succeed perhaps, even a little, and are rewarded +for your zeal by finding, when you cross the border a few days +afterward, that the houses at San Sebastian look strikingly French. +Biarritz is bright, crowded, irregular, filled with many sounds, and not +without a certain second-rate picturesqueness; but it struck me as +common and cocknified, and my vision travelled back to modest little +Etretal, by its northern sea, as to a more truly delectable +resting-place. The southwestern coast of France has little of the +exquisite charm of the Mediterranean shore. It has of course a southern +expression which in itself is always delightful. You see a brilliant, +yellow sun, with a pink-faced, red-tiled house staring up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> at it. You +can see here and there a trellis and an orange tree, a peasant woman in +gold necklace, driving a donkey, a lame beggar adorned with ear-rings, a +glimpse of blue sea between white garden walls. But the superabundant +detail of the French Riviera is wanting; the softness, luxuriousness, +enchantment.</p> + +<p>The most picturesque thing at Biarritz is the Basque population, which +overflows from the adjacent Spanish provinces and swarms in the crooked +streets. It lounges all day in the public places, sprawls upon the +curbstones, clings to the face of the cliffs, and vociferates +continually in a shrill, strange tongue, which has no discoverable +affinity with any other. The Basques look like the hardier and thriftier +Neapolitan lazzaroni; if the superficial resemblance is striking, the +difference is very much in their favor. Although those specimens which I +observed at Biarritz appeared to enjoy an excess of leisure, they had +nothing of a shiftless or beggarly air, and seemed as little disposed to +ask favors as to confer them. The roads leading into Spain were dotted +with them, and here they were coming and going as if on important +business—the business of the abominable Don Carlos himself. They struck +me as a very handsome race. The men are invariably clean shaved; smooth +chins seem a positively religious observance. They wear little round, +maroon-colored caps, like those of sailor-boys, dark stuff shirts, and +curious white shoes, made of strips of rope laid together—an article of +toilet which makes them look like honorary members of base-ball clubs. +They sling their jackets, cavalier fashion, over one shoulder, hold +their heads very high, swing their arms very bravely, step out very +lightly, and when you meet them in the country at eventide, charging +down a hillside in companies of half a dozen, make altogether a most +impressive appearance. With their smooth chins and childish caps, they +may be taken, in the distance, for a lot of very naughty little boys. +They have always a cigarette in their teeth.</p> + +<p>The best thing at Biarritz is your opportunity for driving over into +Spain. Coming speedily to a consciousness of this fact, I found a charm +in sitting in a landau and rolling away to San Sebastian, behind a +driver in a high glazed hat with long streamers, a jacket of scarlet and +silver, and a pair of yellow breeches and of jack-boots. If it has been +the desire of one's heart and the dream of one's life to visit the land +of Cervantes, even grazing it so lightly as by a day's excursion from +Biarritz is a matter to set one romancing. Everything helping—the +admirable scenery, the charming day, my operatic coachman, and +smooth-rolling carriage—I am afraid I romanced more than it is decent +to tell of. You face toward the beautifully outlined mass of the +Pyrenees, as if you were going to plunge straight into them, but in +reality you travel beneath them and beside them; you pass between their +expiring spurs and the sea. It is on proceeding beyond San Sebastian +that you seriously attack them. But they are already extremely +picturesque—none the less so that in this region they abound in +suggestion of the recent Carlist war. Their far-away peaks and ridges +are crowned with lonely Spanish watch-towers and their lower slopes are +dotted with demolished dwellings. It was hereabouts that the fighting +was most constant. But the healing powers of nature are as remarkable as +the destructive powers of man, and the rich September landscape appeared +already to have forgotten the injuries of yesterday. Everything seemed +to me a savory foretaste of Spain. I discovered an unconscionable amount +of local color. I discovered it at St. Jean de Luz, the last French +town, in a great brown church, filled with galleries and boxes, like a +playhouse—the altar and chair, indeed, looked very much like a +proscenium; at Bohebia, on the Bidassoa, the small yellow stream which +divides France from Spain, and which at this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> point offers to view the +celebrated Isle of Pheasants, a little bushy strip of earth adorned with +a decayed commemorative monument, on which, in the seventeenth century, +the affairs of Louis XIV. and his brother monarch were discussed in +ornamental conference; at Fuentarabia (glorious name), a mouldering +relic of Spanish stateliness; at Hondaye, at Irun, at Renteria, and +finally at San Sebastian. At all of these wayside towns the houses show +marks of Alphonsist bullets (the region was strongly Carlist); but to be +riddled and battered seems to carry out the meaning of the pompous old +escutcheons carven above the doorways, some of them covering almost half +the house. It seemed to me, in fact, that the narrower and shabbier was +the poor little dusky dwelling, the grander and more elaborate was this +noble advertisement. But it stood for knightly prowess, and pitiless +Time had taken up the challenge. I found it fine work to rumble through +the narrow single street of Irun and Renteria, between the +strange-colored houses, the striped awnings, the universal balconies, +and the heraldic doorways.</p> + +<p>San Sebastian is a lively watering-place, and is set down in the +guidebooks as the Biarritz or the Brighton of Spain. It has of course a +new quarter in the provincial-elegant style (fresh stucco cafés, barber +shops, and apartments to let), looking out upon a planted promenade and +a charming bay, locked in fortified heights, with a narrow portal to the +ocean. I walked about for two or three hours, and devoted most of my +attention to the old quarter, the town proper, which has a great +frowning gate upon the harbor, through which you look along a vista of +gaudy house fronts, balconies, and awnings, surmounted by a narrow strip +of sky. Here the local color was richer, the manners more <i>naïf</i>. Here +too was a church with a flamboyant Jesuit façade and an interior +redolent of Spanish Catholicism. There was a life-sized effigy of the +Virgin perched upon a table beside the great altar (she appeared to +have been walking abroad in a procession), whom I looked at with extreme +interest. She seemed to me a heroine, a solid Spanish person, as perfect +a reality as Don Quixote or St. Theresa. She was dressed in an +extraordinary splendor of laces, brocades, and jewels, her coiffure and +complexion were of the finest, and she evidently would answer to her +name if you spoke to her. Improving the stateliest title I could think +of, I addressed her as Doña Maria of the Holy Office; whereupon she +looked round the great dusky, perfumed church, to see whether we were +alone, and then she dropped her fringed eyelids and held out her hand to +be kissed. She was the Sentiment of Spanish Catholicism: gloomy, yet +bedizened, emotional as a woman, and yet mechanical as a doll. After a +moment I grew afraid of her, and went slinking away. After this I didn't +really recover my spirits until I had the satisfaction of hearing myself +addressed as "Cabellero." I was hailed with this epithet by a ragged +infant, with sickly eyes and a cigarette in his lips, who invited me to +cast a copper into the sea, that he might dive for it; and even with +these limitations, the sensation seemed worth the cost of my excursion. +It appeared kinder, to my gratitude, to make the infant dive upon the +pavement.</p> + +<p>A few days later I went back to San Sebastian, to witness a bull fight; +but I suppose my right to descant upon this entertainment should be +measured less by the gratification it afforded me than by the question +whether there is room in literature for another bull fight. I incline to +think there is not; the Spanish diversion is the best described thing in +the world. Besides, there are other reasons for not describing it. It is +extremely disgusting, and one should not describe disgusting +things—except (according to the new school) in novels, when they have +not really occurred, and are manufactured on purpose. But one has taken +a certain sort of pleasure in the bull fight,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> and yet how is one to +state gracefully that one has taken pleasure in a disgusting thing? It +is a hard case. If you record your pleasure, distinctly, you seem to +exaggerate it and to calumniate your delicacy; and if you record nothing +but your displeasure, you feel rather crabbed and stingy. This much I +can say, at any rate, that as there had been no bull fights in that part +of the country during the Carlist war, the native dilettanti (and every +man, woman, and child of them comes under this denomination) returned to +their previous pastime with peculiar zest. The spectacle, therefore, had +an unusual splendor. Under these circumstances it is highly picturesque. +The weather was beautiful; the near mountains peeped over the top of the +vast open arena, as if they too were curious; weary of disembowelled +horses and posturing <i>espadas</i>, the spectator (in the boxes) might turn +away and look through an unglazed window at the empty town and the +cloud-shadowed sea. But few of the native spectators availed themselves +of this privilege. Beside me sat a blooming matron, in a white lace +mantilla, with three very juvenile daughters; and if these ladies +sometimes yawned, they never shivered. For myself, I confess that if I +sometimes shivered, I never yawned. A long list of bulls was sacrificed, +each of whom had pretentions to originality. The <i>banderillos</i>, in their +silk stockings and embroidered satin costumes, skipped about with a +great deal of elegance; the <i>espada</i> folded his arms, within six inches +of the bull's nose, and stared him out of countenance; but I thought the +bull, in any case, a finer fellow than any of his tormentors, and I +thought his tormentors finer fellows than the spectators. In truth, we +were all, for the time, rather sorry fellows together. A bull fight +will, to a certain extent, bear looking at, but it will not bear +thinking of. There was a more innocent picturesqueness in what I saw +afterward, when we all came away, in the late afternoon, as the shadows +were at their longest: the bright-colored southern crowd, spreading +itself over the grass, and the women, with mantillas and fans, strolling +up along before the mountains and the sea.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Henry James, Jr.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BALLAD_OF_CONSTANCE" id="THE_BALLAD_OF_CONSTANCE"></a>THE BALLAD OF CONSTANCE.</h2> + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">With diamond dew the grass was wet,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">T'was in the spring, and gentlest weather,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And all the birds of morning met,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And carolled in her heart together.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">II.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The wind blew softly o'er the land,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And softly kissed the joyous ocean:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">He walked beside her, on the sand,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And gave and won a heart's devotion.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">III.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The thistledown was in the breeze,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">With birds of passage homeward flying:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">His fortune called him o'er the seas,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And on the shore he left her sighing.</span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">IV.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">She saw his barque glide down the bay—</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Through tears and fears she could not banish;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">She saw his white sails melt away;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">She saw them fade; she saw them vanish.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">V.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And "Go," she said; "for winds are fair,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And love and blessing round you hover:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">When you sail backward through the air,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Then I will trust the word of lover."</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">VI.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Still ebbed, still flowed the tide of years,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Now chilled with snows, now bright with roses,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And many smiles were turned to tears,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And sombre morns to radiant closes.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">VII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And many ships came gliding by,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">With many a golden promise freighted:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">But nevermore from sea or sky</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Came love to bless her heart that waited.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">VII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Yet on, by tender patience led,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Her sacred footsteps walked unbidden,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Wherever sorrow bows its head,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Or want and care and shame are hidden.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">IX.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And they who saw her snow-white hair,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And dark, sad eyes, so deep with feeling,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Breathed all at once the chancel air,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And seemed to hear the organ pealing.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">X.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Till once, at shut of autumn day,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In marble chill she paused and harkened,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">With startled gaze where far away</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The waste of sky and ocean darkened.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">XI.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">There, for a moment, faint and wan,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">High up in air, and landward striving,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Stern-fore a spectral barque came on,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Across the purple sunset driving.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">XII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Then something out of night she knew,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Some whisper heard, from heaven descended,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And peacefully as falls the dew</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Her long and lonely vigil ended.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">XIII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The violet and the bramble-rose</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Make glad the grass that dreams above her;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And freed from time and all its woes,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">She trusts again the word of lover.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">William Winter.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HEARTBREAK_CAMEO" id="THE_HEARTBREAK_CAMEO"></a>THE HEARTBREAK CAMEO.</h2> + + +<p>"It is a cameo to break one's heart!" said Mrs. Dalliba, as she toyed +with the superb jewel. "The cutting is unmistakably Florentine, and yet +you have placed it among your Indian curiosities. I do not understand it +at all."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dalliba was a connoisseur in gems; she had travelled from one +extremity of Europe to the other; had studied the crown jewels of nearly +every civilized nation, haunted museums, and was such a frequent visitor +at the jewellers' of the Palais Royal, that many of them had come to +regard her as an individual who might harbor burglarious intentions. She +was a very harmless specialist, however, who, though she loved these +stars of the underworld better than any human being, could never have +been tempted to make one of them unfairly her own, and she seldom +purchased, for she never coveted one unless it was something quite +extraordinary, beyond the reach of even her considerable fortune. +Meanwhile few of the larger jewelry houses had in their employ +lapidaries more skilled than Mrs. Dalliba. She pursued her studies for +the mere love of the science, devoting a year in Italy to mosaics, +cameos, and intaglios. And yet the Crèvecœur cameo had puzzled wiser +heads than Mrs. Dalliba's, adept though she was. It was cut from a solid +heart-shaped gem, a layer of pure white, shading down through exquisite +gradations into deep green, and represented Aphrodite rising from the +sea; the white form rose gracefully, with arms extended, scattering the +drops of spray from her hands and her wind-blown hair; the foamy waves +were beautifully cut with their intense hollows and snowy crests; it was +evidently the work of a cultivated as well as a natural artist; it was +not surprising that Mrs. Dalliba should insist that it could not have +been executed out of Italy.</p> + +<p>But Prof. Stonehenge was right too; it was a stone of the chalcedonic +family, resembling sardonyx, except in color; others, similar to it both +in a natural state and wrought into arrow-heads, had been found along +the shores of Lake Superior. This seemed to have been brought away from +its associates by some wandering tribe, for it had been discovered in +Central Illinois. The nearest point at which other relics belonging to +the same period had been found was the site of Fort Crèvecœur, near +Starved Rock, Illinois. After all, the stone only differed from the +arrow-heads of Lake Superior in its beautiful carving and unprecedented +size—and, ah, yes! there was another difference, the mystery of its +discovery. No other skeleton among all the buried braves unearthed by +scientific research at Crèvecœur had been found with a gem for a +heart—a gem that glittered not on the breast, but within a chest hooped +with human bone. Mrs. Dalliba had just remarked that she had never felt +so strong a desire to possess and wear any jewel as now; but when Prof. +Stonehenge told how the uncanny thing rattled within the white ribs of +the skeleton in which it was found, she allowed the gem to slip from her +hand, while something of its own pale green flickered in the disgusted +expression which quivered about the corners of her mobile mouth. The +cameo was a mystery which had baffled geologist, antiquarian, and +sculptor alike, for Father Francis Xavier had gone down to his grave +with his secret and his cameo hidden in his heart. He had kept both well +for two centuries, and when the heart crumbled in dust it took its +secret with it, leaving only the cameo to bewilder conjecture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>Its story was, after all, a simple one. On the southern shore of +Michillimackinac, in the romantic days of the first exploration of the +great lakes by the Courreurs de Bois and pioneer priests, had settled +good Père Ignace, a devoted Jesuit missionary. The old man was revered +and loved by the Indians among whom he dwelt. His labors blossomed in a +little village, called from his patron saint the mission of St. Ignace, +that displayed its cluster of white huts and wigwams like the petals of +a water-lily on the margin of the lake. Just back of the village was a +round knoll which served as a landmark on the lake, for the shore near +St. Ignace was remarkably level. On the summit of this mound the good +father had reared a great white cross, and at its foot the superstitious +Indians often laid votive offerings of strongly incongruous character. +Here he had lived and taught for many years, succeeding in instructing +his little flock in the French tongue, and in at least an outward +semblance of the Catholic religion. Even the rude trappers, who came to +trade at regular intervals, revered him, and lived like good Christians +while at the mission, so as not to counteract his teaching by their +lawless example. Here Père Ignace was growing old, and even this +grasshopper of a spiritual charge was becoming a burden. His superior, +at Montreal, understood this and sent him an assistant.</p> + +<p>Very unlike Father Ignatius was Père François Xavier, a man with all the +fire and enthusiasm of youth in his blood—just the one for daring, +hazardous enterprises; just the one to undergo all the privation and +toil of planting a mission; to undertake plans requiring superhuman +efforts, and to carry them through successfully by main force of will. A +better assistant for Father Ignatius could not have been found. It was +force, will, and intellect in the service of love and meekness; only +there was a doubt if the servant might not usurp the place of the +master, and the sway of love be not materially advanced by its new +ally. Indeed, if the truth had been known, even the Bishop of Montreal +had felt that Father Francis Xavier was too ambitious a character to +reside safely in too close proximity to himself; and engrossing +employment at a distance for him, rather than the expressed solicitude +for Father Ignatius, prompted this appointment. The results of the +following year approved the arrangement. The mission received a new +accession of life; its interests were pushed forward energetically.</p> + +<p>Father Francis Xavier devoted himself to an acquisition of the various +Indian dialects, and to excursions among the neighboring tribes. +Converts were made in astonishing numbers, and they brought liberal +gifts to the little church from their simple possessions. Father +Ignatius had never thought to barter with the trappers and traders, but +his colleague did; large church warehouses were erected, and the mission +soon had revenues of importance. Away in the interior Father Xavier had +discovered there was a silver mine; but this discovery, for the present, +he made no attempt at exploiting. He had secured it to the church by +title deed and treaty with the chief who claimed it; had visited it and +assured himself that it would some day be very valuable, and he +contented himself with this for the present, and even managed to forget +its acquisition in his yearly report sent to Montreal. Father Francis +Xavier was something of a geologist; his father was a Florentine +jeweller, and the son had studied as his apprentice, not having at first +been destined for the church. Even after taking holy orders, Father +Francis Xavier had labored over precious stones designed for +ecclesiastical decoration. His specialty had been that of a gem +engraver, and his long white fingers were remarkably skilful and +delicate. This northern region, with all its wealth of precious stones, +was a great jewel casket for him, and he became at once an enthusiastic +collector.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before the coming of his assistant, Father Ignatius had managed his own +simple housekeeping in all its most humble details. Now they had the +services of an Indian maid of all work, who had been brought up under +the eyes of Father Ignatius, and whom the old man regarded rather as a +daughter than as a servant. Her moccasined feet fell as silently as +those of spirits as she glided about their lodge. She never sang at her +work, and rarely spoke, but she smiled often with a smile so childlike +as to be almost silly in expression. Father Ignatius loved the silent +smile, and a word from him was always sure to bring it; but it angered +Father Francis Xavier more than many a more repulsive thing would have +done. It seemed so utterly imbecile and babyish to him, he had got so +far away from innocence and smiles and childhood himself, that the sight +of them irritated him. The young Indian girl had a long and almost +unpronounceable name. Père Ignace had baptized her Marie, and the new +name had gradually taken the place of the old.</p> + +<p>One day, as she was silently but dexterously putting to order the large +upper room, which served Père Francis Xavier as study and dormitory, she +paused before his collection of agates and minerals, and stroking the +stones, said in her soft French and Indian patois, "Pretty, pretty." +Father Xavier was seated at the great open window, looking over the top +of his book away across the breezy lake. He heard the words, and knew +that she was looking at him from the corner of her eye, but his only +reply was a deeper scowl and a lowering of his glance to the printed +page. The silly smile which he felt sure was upon her face faded out, +but the girl spoke again, and this time more resolutely, determined to +attract his attention. "Pretty stones. Marie's father many more, much +prettier—much."</p> + +<p>Father Xavier laid down his book. He was all attention. "Where did your +father get them?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In the mountains climb, in the mines dig, in the lake dive, he seek +them all the time summer."</p> + +<p>"What does he do with them?"</p> + +<p>"Cuts them like <i>mon père</i>," and Marie imitated in pantomime the use of +the hammer and chisel. "Cut them all time winter, very many."</p> + +<p>"What does he do that for?" asked the priest, surprised.</p> + +<p>"All the same you," replied the girl—"make arrow-heads."</p> + +<p>"Oh! he makes arrow-heads, does he? Mine are not arrow-heads, but I +should like to see what your father does. Does he live far from here?"</p> + +<p>"Marie take you to-night in canoe."</p> + +<p>"Very well, after supper."</p> + +<p>She had often taken him out upon the lake before, for she managed their +birch-bark canoe with more skill than himself, and it was convenient to +have some one to paddle while he fished or read or dreamed. She rowed +him swiftly up the lake for several miles, then, fastening the canoe, +led the way through a trail in the forest. The sun was setting, and "the +whispering pines and the hemlocks" of the forest primeval formed a +tapestry of gloom around the paternal wigwam as they reached it. Black +Beaver, her father, reclined lazily in the door, watching the coals of +the little fire in front of his tent. He was always lazy. It was +difficult to believe that he ever climbed or dug or dived for agates as +Marie had said, so complete a picture he seemed of inaction. The girl +spoke a few words to him in their native dialect, and he grumblingly +rose, shuffled into the interior of the wigwam, and brought out two +baskets. One was a shallow tray filled with the finished heads in great +variety of material and color. There were white carnelian, delicately +striped with prophetic red, blood-stone deep-colored and hard as ruby, +agates of every shade and marking, flinty jasper, emerald-banded +malachite, delicate rose color, and purple ones made from shells, and +various crystals with whose names Father François Xavier was +un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>familiar. There was one shading from dark green through to red, only +a drop of the latter color on the very tip of the arrow where blood +would first kiss blood. Father Xavier looked at it in wondering +admiration, and at last asked Black Beaver what he called it.</p> + +<p>"It is a devil-stone," replied the Indian. "More here," and he opened +the deeper basket in which were stored the unground and uncut stones, +and placed a superb gem in Father Xavier's hand. He had ground it +sufficiently to show that it was in two layers, white and green; in this +there was no touch of red, but in every other respect it was the +handsomer stone.</p> + +<p>"Will you sell it to me?" asked the priest. "How much?"</p> + +<p>The Indian smiled with an expression strangely like that of his +daughter, and put it back with alacrity in his basket, saying, "Me no +sell big devil-stone. No money buy."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean to do with it?" asked Father Xavier.</p> + +<p>"Make arrowhead—very hungry—no blood"; and he indicated the absence of +the red tint. "Very hungry—kill very much—never have enough!"</p> + +<p>"Then you mean to keep it and use it yourself?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the other. "Me no hunt game—hunt stones."</p> + +<p>"What will you do with it?" asked the puzzled priest.</p> + +<p>"Give it away," said Black Beaver—"give away to greatest——"</p> + +<p>"Chief?" asked Father Xavier.</p> + +<p>Black Beaver shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Friend then?"</p> + +<p>"No," grunted the arrowhead maker—"give away to big <i>enemy</i>!"</p> + +<p>"What did he mean by that?" Father Xavier asked of Marie on their way +back to the mission. And the girl explained the superstition that +Indians of their own tribe never killed an enemy with ordinary weapons, +for fear that his soul would wait for theirs in the Happy Hunting +Grounds; but if he was shot with a devil-stone, the soul could not fly +upward, but would sink through all eternity, until it reached the +deepest spot of all the great lakes under the stony gaze of the Doom +Woman.</p> + +<p>When he inquired further as to the whereabouts of the Doom Woman's +residence he ascertained that she was only a sharp cliff among "the +pictured rocks of sandstone" of the upper lake—a cliff that viewed from +either side maintained its resemblance to a female profile looking +sternly down at the water beneath it, which was here believed to be +unfathomable. The Doom Woman still exists. Strange to say, under its +sharp-cut features a steamer has since been wrecked and sunk, and its +expression of gloomy fate is now awfully appropriate. Marie had visited +"the great Sea Water" with her father. Nature's titanic and fanciful +frescoing and cameo cutting had strongly wrought upon her impressionable +mind, and the old legends and superstitions of paganism had been by no +means effaced by the very slight veneer of Christianity which she had +received at the mission.</p> + +<p>From this evening Father Xavier's manner toward her changed. Her smile +no longer seemed to irritate him, and a close observer might have +noticed that she smiled less than formerly. He talked with her more, +paid closer attention to her studies, made her little presents from time +to to time, and spoke to her always with studied gentleness that was +quite foreign to his nature. And Marie watched him at work over his +stones, spent her spare time in rambling in search of those which she +had learned he liked, and laid upon his table without remark each new +discovery of quartz, or crystal, or pebble. She had been in the habit of +making little boxes which she decorated with a rude mosaic of small +shells, and Father Xavier noticed that these gradually acquired more +taste and were arranged with some eye to the harmonies of color, while +the forms were copied with Chinese accuracy from patterns on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +bindings of his books or the borders of the religious pictures. Marie +was developing under an art education which if carried far enough might +effect great things. She even managed his graving tools with a good deal +of accuracy, copying designs which he set her, until he wondered what +his father would have thought of so apt an apprentice.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, one morning in midsummer, Marie announced that she should +leave them. Her father was going on a long expedition for stones to the +head of Lake Superior, and she did not know when she might return. As +she imparted this information she watched Father Xavier from the corner +of her eye, and something of the old childish smile reappeared as he +showed that he was really annoyed.</p> + +<p>The summer passed profitably for the Black Beaver, and he began to think +of returning to St. Ignace with his small store of valuable stones +before the fall gales should set in. He was just a few days too late. +When within sight of Michillimackinac a storm arose driving them out +upon the open lake, and playing with their canoe as though it were a +cockle shell. When the storm abated a cloudy night had set in; no land +was visible in any direction; they had completely lost their direction, +and knew not toward which point to seek the shore. Paddling at hazard +might take them further out into the centre of the lake, and indeed they +were too worn with battling with the storm to do any more than keep the +tossed skiff from capsizing. Morning dawned wet and gray, after a +miserable night; they were drenched to the skin, and almost spent with +weariness and hunger, and now that a wan and ghostly daylight had come +they were no better for it, for an impenetrable fog shut them in on +every side. Marie and her mother began to pray. The Black Beaver sat +dogged and inert, with upturned face, regarding the sky.</p> + +<p>The day wore by wearily; some of the time they paddled straight onward, +with sinking hearts, knowing not toward what they were going, and at +others rested with the inaction of despair. When the position of the +bright spot which meant the sun told that it lacked but an hour of +sunset, and the clouds seemed to be thickening rather than dispersing, +the Black Beaver gave a long and hideous howl. His wife and daughter +shuddered when they heard it, as would any one, for a more unearthly and +discordant cry was never uttered by man or beast; but they had double +reason to shudder; it was the death cry of their nation.</p> + +<p>"We can never live through another night," said he, and he covered his +face with his arms.</p> + +<p>"Father," said Marie, "try what power there is in the white man's God. +Say that you will give Him your devil-stone if He will save us now."</p> + +<p>"The priest may have it," said the Black Beaver, and he uncovered his +face and sat up as though expecting a miracle. And the miracle came. The +sun was setting behind them, and in front, somewhat above the horizon, +the clouds parted, forming a circle about a white cross which hung +suspended in the air. They all saw it distinctly, but only for a few +moments; then the clouds closed and the vision vanished. With new hope +the little party rowed toward the spot where they had last seen it, and +through the fog they could dimly discern the outlines of the coast—they +were nearing land. A little further on, and a village was visible, which +gained a more and more familiar aspect as they approached. Night settled +down before they reached it, but ere their feet touched the land they +had recognized the mission of St. Ignace. The cross was not a vision. +The clouds had parted to show them the great white landmark and sign +which Father Ignatius had raised upon the little knoll.</p> + +<p>The next day the Black Beaver unearthed his devil-stone, and fastening a +silver chain to it, was about to carry it away and attach it to the +cross, which was already loaded with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> gifts of the little colony; +but Marie took it from his hand. "I will give it to the good priest +myself," she said. "He may see fit to place it on the image of the +Virgin in the church."</p> + +<p>A few days later Marie placed the coveted stone in Father Xavier's hand; +but what was his bitter disappointment to find that she had marred the +exquisite thing by a rude attempt at a delineation upon it of the vision +of the cross. She had carefully chiselled away the milky white layer, +excepting on the crests of some very primitive representations of waves, +and within the awkwardly plain cross in the centre of the gem. All his +hopes of cutting a face upon this lovely jewel were crushed; it was +ruined by her unskilful work. Father Xavier was completely master of his +own emotions. He took the stone without remark, and hung it, as Marie +requested, about the neck of the Madonna. Each day as he said mass the +sight of the mutilated jewel roused within him resentful feelings +against poor, well-wishing little Marie. He had been very kind to her +since he had first seen the stone in the possession of her father, but +now it was worse than before. He avoided her markedly, for the smile +which so annoyed him still lighted her face whenever she saw him, and +there was in it a reproachful sadness which was even more aggravating +than its simple childishness had been.</p> + +<p>One day Father Xavier in turning over his papers came across an old +etching of Venus rising from the sea. The figure, with its outstretched +arms, suggested a possibility to him. He made a careful tracing of it, +took it to the church and laid it upon the stone. All of its outlines +came within the white cross; there was still hope for the cameo. All +that winter Father Xavier toiled upon it, exhausting his utmost skill, +but never exhausting his patience. His chief trial was in the extreme +hardness of the stone, which rapidly wore out his graving tools. At last +it was finished, and Father Xavier confessed to himself, in all +humility, that he had not only never executed so delicate a piece of +workmanship, but he had never seen its equal. Every curve of the +exquisite-hued waves was studied from the swell that sometimes swept +grandly in from the lake on the long reef of rocks a few miles above St. +Ignace. The form of the goddess was modelled from his remembrance of the +Greek antique. It was a gem worthy of an emperor. What should he do with +it?</p> + +<p>As the spring ripened into summer, ambitious thoughts flowered in Père +Francis Xavier's soul. What a grand bishopric this whole western country +would make with its unexplored wealth of mines, and furs, and forest. +Why should he be obliged to make reports of the revenue which his own +financiering had secured to the mission, to the head at Montreal? Why +should not his reverence the Lord Bishop Francis Xavier dwell in an +episcopal palace built somewhere on these lakes, with unlimited +spiritual and temporal sway over all this country? To effect such a +scheme it would be necessary for him to see both the King of France and +the Pope. He was not sure that even if he could return to Europe +immediately, he had the influence necessary in either quarter, but the +cameo was a step in the right direction. Something of the same thought +occurred at the same time to the Bishop of Montreal. Father Xavier's +reports showed the mission to be in a flourishing condition. The first +struggles of the pioneer were over. Father Xavier must not be left in +too luxurious a position. The Chevalier La Salle was now fitting out his +little band designed to explore the lakes and follow the Mississippi +from its source to the Gulf. A most important expedition; it would be +well that the Jesuit fathers should share in the honors if it proved +successful, and if the little party perished in its hazardous +enterprise, Père Francis Xavier could perhaps be spared as easily as any +member of his spiritual army.</p> + +<p>And so, in the summer of 1679, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> Chevalier sailed up the Lac du +Dauphin, as Lake Erie was then called, into the Lac d'Orleans, or Huron, +carrying letters in which Père Francis Xavier was ordered to leave his +charge for a time in order to render all the assistance in his power to +the explorers. The Bishop of Montreal could never have guessed with what +heartfelt joy his command was obeyed. Father Xavier was tired of this +peaceful life, tired of "the endless wash of melancholy waves," of the +short cool summers, and long white blank of winter; tired of inaction, +of the lack of stimulating surroundings, of the gentleness of Father +Ignatius and Marie's haunting smile. Here, too, might be the very +occasion he craved of making himself famous and deserving of reward as +an explorer. It was true that he started as a subordinate, but that was +no reason that he should return in the same capacity. Marie had served +the noble guests with pleasant alacrity, passing the rainbow-tinted +trout caught as well as broiled by her own hand, and the luscious +huckleberries in tasteful baskets of her own braiding, and Tontz Main de +Fer, the chivalric companion and friend of La Salle, was moved like +Geraint, served by Enid, "to stoop and kiss the dainty little thumb that +crossed the trencher." The salutation was received with unconscious +dignity by little Marie; once only was Père François Xavier annoyed by +the absence of a display of childish pleasure in an ever ready smile.</p> + +<p>History tells how trial and privation of every kind waited on this +little band of heroic men—how hunger, and cold, and fever dogged their +steps; how the Indians proved treacherous and hostile; how, having +reached central Illinois after incredible exertion, they found +themselves in the dead of winter unable to proceed further, and +surrounded by tribes incited against them by some unknown enemy. A +fatality seemed to hang over them; suspicious occurrences indicated that +they had a traitor among their number, but he was never discovered. La +Salle did not despair or abandon the enterprise, but when six of his +most trusted men mutinied and deserted, he lost hope, and became seized +with a presentiment that he would never return from his expedition. +Father Xavier was his confidant as well as confessor, but he seems not +to have been able to disperse the gloom which settled over the leader's +mind. Perhaps he did not endeavor to do so. Hopeless but still true to +his trust, La Salle constructed near Peoria a fort which he named +Crèvecœur, in token of his despondency and disappointment. Leaving +Tontz Main de Fer in command here with the greater part of his men, he +set out with five for Frontenac, on the 2d of March, 1680, intending to +return with supplies to take command again of his party, and to proceed +southward. It was at this point that the most inexplicable event of the +entire enterprise occurred. Before the party divided <i>some one</i> +attempted to poison the Chevalier La Salle. The poison was a subtle and +slow one, similar in its effects to those used by the Borgia family; the +secret of its manufacture was thought to be unknown out of Italy. +Fortunately he had taken an under or overdose of it, and the effects +manifested themselves only in a long illness. He was too far on his +journey from Fort Heartbreak when stricken down to return to it, and was +mercifully received and nursed back to health by the friendly +Pottawottamies.</p> + +<p>While the leader was lying sick in an Indian lodge, the knightly Tontz, +ignorant of the fate of his friend, was having his troubles at the +little fort of Heartbreak. Père François Xavier had remained with him, +and aided him with counsels and personal exertions; he had made himself +so indispensable that he was now lieutenant; if anything should happen +to Tontz, he would be commander. He was secretary of the expedition, +drew careful maps, and made voluminous daily entries in a journal, which +was afterward found to be a marvel of painstaking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> both in the facts and +fictions which it contained. Scanty mention was there of La Salle and +Tontz Main de Fer, and much of Père François Xavier, but it was clear, +explicit, depicting the advantages of an acquisition of this territory +to the crown of France in glowing terms, and strongly advising that the +man who had most distinguished himself in the difficulties of its +discovery should be appointed as governor, or baron, under the royal +authority.</p> + +<p>While Father Xavier was compiling this remarkable piece of authorship, +the Iroquois descended in warlike array upon the somewhat friendly +disposed Illinois Indians, in whose midst Fort Crèvecœur had been +built. The suspicious Indian mind immediately connected the advent of +their enemies with the building of the fort, and regarded the little +garrison with distrust. Tontz, at the instance of Father Xavier, +presented himself to their chief, and offered to do anything in his +power to prove his friendly intentions. The chief accepted his services, +and sent him as ambassador to inquire into the cause of the coming of +the Iroquois. This mission had nearly been his last, for Tontz was +received with stabs, and hardly allowed to give the message of the +chief. His ill treatment at the hands of their enemies did not reassure +the suspicious Illinois, who ordered Tontz to immediately evacuate the +fort and return with his forces to the country whence he had come. In +his wounded condition such a journey was extremely hazardous, and it +must have been with grave doubts as to his surviving it that Father +Xavier took temporary command of the returning expedition.</p> + +<p>It was the spring of 1681. Father Xavier had been absent nearly two +years. Father Ignatius missed him sadly—all the life and fire seemed to +have gone out of the mission. Even Marie moved about her work in a +listless, languid way, which contrasted markedly with her once lithe and +rapid movements. They had not once heard from the explorers, and Father +Ignatius shook his head sadly, and feared that he would never see his +energetic colleague again. The Black Beaver had slept through the last +months of winter, and, as with the general awakening of spring the bears +came out of their dens, and the snakes sunned themselves near their +holes, he too stretched himself lazily and awoke to a consciousness of +what was passing around him. In the first place something was amiss with +Marie. When she came to the wigwam it was not to chat merrily of the +affairs of the mission. She did not braid as many baskets as formerly, +and no longer showed him new patterns in shell mosaic on the lids of +little boxes. He was a curious old man, and he soon drew her secret from +her. Marie loved Père François Xavier, and he had gone.</p> + +<p>The Black Beaver went down to the mission one evening and had a long +talk with Father Ignatius. He ascertained first that Père François +Xavier really meant to return; then, with all the dignity of an old +feudal baron, he offered Marie as a bride for his spiritual son. Very +gently the good Père Ignace explained that Romish priests were so nearly +in the kingdom of heaven that the question of marrying and giving in +marriage was not for them to consider. The Black Beaver went home, told +no one of his visit, and for several days indulged in the worst drunken +spree of which he was capable. When he came out of it he announced to +his wife and Marie that he was going away on his annual trip for stores, +but that they need not accompany him.</p> + +<p>Marie knelt as usual in the little church on the evening of the day on +which her father had gone away. Père François Xavier had replaced the +cameo on the Virgin's breast before he went; it was a safer place than +the vault of a bank would have been, had such a thing existed in the +country. There was no one in the island sacrilegious enough to rob the +church. Marie had gazed at the stone each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> time that she repeated the +prayer which he had taught her. She looked up now, and it was gone.</p> + +<p>Half-way upon their northward route, Tontz's band were struggling +wearily on when they were met by a solitary Indian, who, though he +carried a long bow, had not an unfriendly aspect. He eyed the little +band silently as they passed by him in defile, then ran after them, and +inquired if the Père François Xavier, of Mission St. Ignace, was not of +their number. He was informed that the reverend father had remained a +short distance behind to write in his journal, but that he would soon +overtake them; and he was warmly pressed to remain with them if he had +messages for the priest, and give them to him when he arrived; but the +Indian shook his head and passed on in the direction in which they told +him he would be likely to meet Father Xavier. The party halted and +waited hour after hour for the priest, but he did not come. Finally two +went back in search, and found him lying upon the sod with upturned +face—the place where he had written last in his journal marked by a few +drops of his heart's blood, and the long shaft of an arrow protruding +from his breast. They drew it out, but the arrow-head had been attached, +as is the custom in some Indian tribes, by means of a soft wax, which is +melted by the warmth of the body, and it remained in the heart. Father +Xavier had been dead some hours. They buried him where they found him, +and proceeded on their march. Tontz recovered on the way. They reached +Michillimackinack in safety, where they were joined two months later by +La Salle; and the world knows the result of his second expedition.</p> + +<p>Little Marie learned by degrees to smile again, and in after years +married another arrow-head maker, as swarthy and as shaggy as the Black +Beaver. There is no moral to my story except that of poetic justice. +Père François Xavier had sown a plentiful crop of stratagems, and he +learned in the lonely forest that "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he +also reap."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile to all but you, my readers, the Crèvecœur cameo remains as +great a mystery as ever.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Lizzie W. Champney.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MONSIEUR_DELILLE" id="MONSIEUR_DELILLE"></a>MONSIEUR DELILLE.</h2> + +<h3>NOTE-BOOK OF A SECRETARY OF LEGATION.</h3> + + +<p>The newspapers of Berlin announced the arrival of a superior artist, the +celebrated M. Delille of the Théâtre Français de Paris, where he had +played first parts. Born and bred in the French metropolis, it was +believed he would not only open new sources of amusement to the public, +but add elegance to the French even of the highest regions. Everybody +was talking of him. His acquisition, rendered possible only by a +<i>différend</i> with the Paris manager, was a triumph for Berlin. I was +quite curious to see him.</p> + +<p>One day I stepped into Rey's perfumery shop to buy some cologne water. +The rooms were crowded with fashionable ladies looking over the +glittering and fragrant assortment of <i>savons de toilette</i>, <i>pâtes +d'amandes</i>, <i>huiles essentielles</i>, <i>eaux de vie aromatisées</i>, etc. While +making my purchase, a very handsome fellow came in who excited unusual +attention. His toilette <i>recherchée</i>, his noble but modest air made one +look at him again and again. He spoke with Rey in a voice so harmonious +and in such French as one does not hear every day even in Paris. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +heard a lady whisper to another: "Ah, voilà qui est parlez Français +(that is the way to speak French)." The stranger was certainly +<i>somebody</i>, or so many furtive glances would not have been cast at him. +I might, by inquiry, easily have ascertained who he was, but I found a +kind of pleasure in prolonging my curiosity. The Emperor Nicholas of +Russia was daily expected. He was supposed to be the handsomest man in +the world. But he was six feet two, taller than this person. The Grand +Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin had arrived the previous afternoon; but, it +seemed to me, no German could speak French with just that modulation. +The Prince de Joinville was expected. Perhaps it was he.</p> + +<p>"Will you kindly give yourself the trouble to send the box to M. +Delille, Friedrich strasse 30?"</p> + +<p>Ah ha! <i>Le voilà!</i> There was my man. Strange I had not thought of him.</p> + +<p>I had a season ticket at the French theatre for the purpose of learning +French, and I had been as much entertained as instructed (I mean +instructed in the language). Every one knows a Frenchman can infuse airy +elegance into a button, bestow a marketable value upon a straw, breathe +<i>esprit</i> into a feather, and make ten dishes out of a nettle-top. So the +poet can transform any incident into an attractive vaudeville. The +tender <i>situation dramatique</i>, the humorous <i>coup de théâtre</i>, <i>the jeu +d'esprit</i> sparkling up into music, the elevated sentiment, the merciless +exposure of vice and folly, the purest and noblest morality, largely +mixed with an ostentatious ridicule of every sacred truth, and an +absolute disregard of every principle of decency and duty, give strange +glimpses into French social life.</p> + +<p>As a school for the French student, however, the theatre is a useful +institution. For French has got to be learned somehow or other. A +dancing master of my acquaintance used always to commence his course by +a short address to his class in which he remarked: "Mesdemoiselles! La +chose la plus importante du monde c'est la danse!" (the most important +thing in the world is dancing.) Perhaps he was right. In that case I +must add that the next most important thing in the world is the French +language; at least to a foreigner on the continent of Europe. Without +that you do not know anything. You are a straw man. You are a deaf and +dumb creature. Ladies gaze at you with compassion, gentlemen with +contempt, children with wonder, while waiters quiz you, cheat you, and +make the imaginary mill behind your back.</p> + +<p>Impressed with the inconvenience of this position, I had long ago +commenced a siege of the French language. I studied it <i>a fond</i>. I +looked into every <i>y</i> and <i>en</i>. I had attended the French theatre as a +school, and profited by the performances. The company was excellent, +particularly one young girl, Mlle. Fontaine. Her playing was +unsurpassable. She knew always when to go on and when to stop. Perfect +simplicity, a taste never at fault, delightful humor, a high tragic +power; to these add a lovely face, a beautiful form, grace in every +movement, a voice just as sweet as a voice could be, and you have a dim +idea of Mlle. Fontaine. In her private life, moreover, she enjoyed the +reputation of being without reproach. The whole world repeated of her +the old saying: "Elle n'a qu'un défaut, celui de mettre de l'esprit +partout!" (She has but one fault: she touches nothing without importing +to it a charm of her own.)</p> + +<p>When M. Delille came out, Mlle. Fontaine and he generally played +together, amid thundering plaudits of overflowing audiences. Delille +himself was a perfect artist. The French theatre was in its glory.</p> + +<p>One morning, hard at work in my office, I was surprised by a card, +"Monsieur Delille, du Théâtre Français." The gentleman wished to have +the honor of a few moments' conversation.</p> + +<p>The theatre and all the various per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>sonages of its imaginary world were +so completely apart from my real life, that I could scarcely have been +more surprised at receiving a card from Louis XIV., or hearing that the +General Napoleon Bonaparte was waiting at the door, and desired the +honor of my acquaintance.</p> + +<p>M. Delille entered, hat in hand, with bow and smile, as I had so often +seen him do in the theatre drawing-rooms. We had a pleasant chat. He +spoke no English, which forced upon me the necessity of exhibiting my +dazzling French. He complimented me upon it. I told him it was +principally owing to himself and to Mlle. Fontaine. This brought out the +object of his visit. He was going to be married. He had been in America, +which emboldened him to consider himself in some sort my countryman, and +to request the honor of my presence at the ceremony.</p> + +<p>"And the lady?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Monsieur</i>," he said, "<i>peut-on douter</i>? (can you doubt?) Mlle. +Fontaine! You are to come to the French church at 3. You will, then, +will you not, do us the honor to dine at our lodgings, Friedrich +strasse, No. 30?"</p> + +<p>I returned his own answer:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, peut-on douter?"</p> + +<p>At the hour appointed I was at the church. I found quite an +assembly—artists, painters, sculptors, actors, critics, poets, +newspaper writers, several members of the corps diplomatique, some +officers, a few gentlemen of the court, etc.</p> + +<p>The bride and groom appeared very simply attired. Their deportment was +perfect. The ceremony was impressive. In a short time the holy bands had +made them one. There was no acting about either of them. M. Delille was +pale; Mademoiselle still paler. Their emotion was obviously genuine. +Some folks think when actors tremble or shed tears, it must be only +acting; and that they can get married or die as easily in the world as +on the stage. This is a mistake. Getting really married is as serious a +step to them as to you; and they know that real dying is a very +different thing from those exits which they make at the end of the +tragedy. They struggle with life, and walk forward toward death just as +do their fellow-creatures, who preach from the pulpit, speak in the +Senate, or congregate on the exchange. The rich banker; the +self-important diplomat; the general, covered with orders; the minister, +who holds the helm of state; the emperor, the queen, who deign to honor +the representation with their presence, smile when they behold +themselves reflected on the stage. But there is not so much difference, +as they are pleased to suppose, between themselves and their theatre +colleagues. Shakespeare says:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">All the world's a stage,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And all the men and women merely players.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>The question is, which of these men and women are the best? Perhaps the +theatre statesman would have administered the affairs of his country +with more wisdom; the dramatic banker would have made his money more +honestly and used it with greater discretion; the stage general would +have conducted the war with more humanity and success; and the senators, +in "Julius Cæsar" and "Damon and Pythias," would have been less open to +bribery and corruption than the gentlemen who have really occupied +similar positions in the world. Perhaps, if M. Delille had been Admiral +Blank, he would have looked at his chart, and not run his ship upon that +rock in the Mediterranean on a clear summer morning. Perhaps, if Mme. +Delille had been Empress of France, she would not have striven quite so +hard to bring on the last war with Prussia.</p> + +<p>From the church to the lodgings of Monsieur and Madame Delille. On +passing through the entrance, in Berlin generally a way for horses and +carriages, you would scarcely expect such elegant apartments. The moment +you crossed the threshold you were in another world. Everything rich, +taste<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>ful, new; the walls superbly papered; the woodwork painted like +snow and varnished like a mirror: Brussels carpet, then not over-common +in the richest houses; lounges, <i>chaises longues</i>, sofas, divans; a +strong smell of Russia binding from splendid volumes on the table, and +gleaming from mahogany book-cases; beautiful paintings and engravings; a +lavish display of clocks on tables and writing-desks; one, looking down +from a loftier pedestal, clicked audibly the seconds and struck the +quarters with a solemn sound, like the booming of some far-off old +cathedral bell hanging in the clouds. Everything told of the new married +man: everything new, bright, unexceptionable, faultless, perfect—like +the new wife, the new husband, the new affection, the new hopes, yet +unexposed to the wear and tear of years.</p> + +<p>I was among the first. My host and hostess awaited their guests. +Mademoiselle—I beg her pardon—madame received me with graceful +cordiality. The company immediately began to appear, principally +performers whose faces I had never seen before, except on the stage, +associated with incidents, words, actions, intrigues, and scenes of the +poet's imagination. I enjoyed as if I had been a boy, recognizing the +various characters whose pranks, joys, and sorrows I had followed with +so much interest: the wicked "jeune homme à la mode," the bewitching +"femme de chambre," the <i>vieux</i> "général sous l'empire," the rich +<i>banquier de Paris</i>, the handsome, dangerous <i>guardien</i>, the naughty +husband who had exclaimed, "Ciel ma femme!" the jealous lover, the +hard-hearted landlord, and the <i>comique</i> of the troupe, upon whose +mobile face I could scarcely look without laughing when he asked me: +"Voulez-vous bien avoir la bonté de passer le sel?" There were present +several from the court: the Marquis de B——, who in private theatricals +at the King's had distinguished himself; M. le Comte de S——, supposed +to be a little <i>impressionné</i> by Mlle. Zoé, the last successful +débutante, and now among the guests.</p> + +<p>Mme. Delille looked like a lady born, and did the honors of her house +like one. The servant announced the dinner, and we adjourned to the +dining-room.</p> + +<p>The dinner was <i>on ne peut pas mieux</i>. I sat between the lady of the +house and Mlle. Zoé. One of the French arts is that of placing people at +ease in society. It is not uncommon to meet persons not wanting in +intelligence, yet who, unless you draw them out, will simply remain in +the whole evening. My charming neighbors drew me out immediately. They +possessed a magnetism which made talking, and in one's best style, as +easy as flying to a bird. Mlle. Zoé said a great many brilliant and +surprising things; but Mme. Delille's manners and conversation were far +superior. I found in her a thoughtful, cultivated, balanced mind, +inspiring genuine esteem. I was struck by her views of political events +and characters. She touched lightly and skilfully upon various +personages with wisdom and humor, but with charity. She referred to her +own position in life as an actress in a way which interested me +extremely, and she found opportunity amid the miscellaneous conversation +to relate her history, and how she came to adopt a profession contrary +to her taste; and a more touching story I never heard. The conversation +even ascended to higher subjects. I was not a little astonished to find +in a young and universally flattered French actress a noble-minded, +superior woman, who had suffered deeply, and thought seriously and +spiritually upon subjects generally considered irreconcileable with her +profession.</p> + +<p>The dinner was finished; the nuts and the jokes were cracked; the café, +the chasse-café, the enigmas, the conundrums, the anecdotes, the songs, +the <i>tableaux-vivants</i> followed each other. My amiable hostess seemed to +think I must have had enough of it, and, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> her graceful +acquiescence, I stole out after a confidential pantomimic leave-taking +with her and my host.</p> + +<p>I became subsequently well acquainted with Monsieur and Madame Delille, +and have seldom known more interesting persons. Occasionally they +invited me to a quiet family dinner, where I always met one or two +distinguished guests; and sometimes I had the pleasure of having them at +my house in a quiet way. They both rose more and more in my esteem the +more I observed their inner life and character. As years rolled on, my +visits were enlivened by the sight of small drums, trumpets, horses with +their tails pulled out, and dolls with their noses knocked off. +Sometimes very pretty little cherubs peeped in at the door, or were +invited for half an hour to the dinner table.</p> + +<p>The world went on with its ways. More than one throne was vacated and +filled anew. Great knotty questions of diplomacy rose and disappeared. +Mehemet Ali, M. Thiers, the King of Hanover, Metternich, the Chartist, +the anti-corn law league, Sir Robert and Mr. Cobden filled the +newspapers. Nations growled at each other like bulldogs, and we had wars +and rumors of wars a plenty.</p> + +<p>One day who should come in but Monsieur and Madame Delille, the very +picture of a perfectly happy man and wife. They came to bid me good-by. +He had made his fortune, wound up his affairs with the theatre, and +abandoned his profession for ever. Madame was at the summit of earthly +felicity. She spoke with inexpressible delight of the change in her +life. She had longed so often to quit the theatre, and now at last her +dream was realized. M. Delille was going to buy a cottage in the south +of France, and to be perfectly happy with his dear wife and four +children. Amid oranges, lemons, and grapes, beneath the blue summer sky, +surrounded by flowers, the waves of the beautiful Mediterranean breaking +at his feet, he intended to pass the rest of his days in unclouded +peace and joy. He had worked all his life, and now he was going to take +his reward.</p> + +<p>"But," said I, "did you say <i>four</i> children?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Mais oui!</i> I have four.</p> + +<p>"Why, it seems but yesterday that——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Comptez donc!</i> Six years and six months."</p> + +<p>His picture of future felicity was very bright. I thought in my heart +that such plans of retirement were—but I suppressed my sermon and +congratulated him upon his prospects. Why should I disturb his happiness +even though it might be a dream? What but a dream would have been even +the realization of all his hopes?</p> + +<p>We parted after embracing like old friends. I had more respect for those +two than I had for a great many whose sonorous titles did not cover +qualities half so estimable, manners half so agreeable, characters half +so pure, or a sense of religion half so true and deep.</p> + +<p>The French theatre declined after the departure of Monsieur and Madame +Delille. I had entirely ceased attending or taking any interest in it.</p> + +<p>Two years passed, when one day, in a lonely part of the Thiergarten, I +met—whom do you think? M. Delille; but pale, sad, solitary, subdued.</p> + +<p>"Well, here I am again," said he. "All my fine dreams have disappeared. +I won't bore you with the story. The fact is—that is to say—one can +never count upon one's plans in this world. I have lost my fortune, and +accepted an invitation to become director of the Berlin French theatre. +I am to form a new company. There is a great opposition to this, and the +matter has raised up against me furious enemies. They accuse me of +everything base. You know me. You know I would not be guilty of anything +dishonorable."</p> + +<p>I looked into his sad, ingenuous face, and replied:</p> + +<p>"I am sure you would not."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thank you. But the worst remains to be told. My wife—my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> poor, +dear wife—who had been my consolation in all this trouble! <i>Pauvre +Marie!</i> she is very ill, and I was obliged to leave her in Paris, or to +lose all our prospects. She would have it so. This annoys me. This makes +me unhappy. With her I am proof against all troubles. Ah, monsieur, you +do not know my Marie. The most faithful, the most gentle, the purest, +the——"</p> + +<p>"But is she so dangerously ill?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not. I think not. She will be here in a few weeks. The doctor +has given me his <i>word of honor</i>."</p> + +<p>A couple of months more. A series of articles, in the mean time, +appeared in the newspapers against M. Delille and the new French theatre +government. The venomous shafts were launched by an able hand. Gall is +sweet compared with them. An actor is the most sensitive of human +beings. His reputation is his all. The personal malice and interest of +the writer were obvious, but the public were too busy to examine. The +crowd enjoy a battle, without caring much about the right.</p> + +<p>I met M. Delille a few days after the appearance of the fifth of these +articles, and expressed my indignation. His manner of viewing the +subject was really noble and more instructive to me than many a sermon. +He spoke temperately of the <i>désagrément</i> of his position and the wisdom +of keeping on his way calmly. "An actor," he said, "is a public target. +Every one has the right to shoot at him. I cannot always forget, but I +try to forgive."</p> + +<p>"And your wife?"</p> + +<p>His face darkened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am weary. She does not get well. She lingers on. She is not +strong enough to come to me. I cannot go to her. She will not consent. +They would declare I had run away. Her short letters are full of +encouragement and consolation. Ah, if these men knew—but we must be +patient. The doctor positively assures me she is doing very well."</p> + +<p>Three weeks later I was again taking a walk through the Thiergarten, +wrapped in my cloak, for it was winter, when I perceived M. Delille +sitting on a quite wet bench. His face was very pale. I never saw a +sadder expression. Hoping to rally him, I said:</p> + +<p>"What a melancholy countenance! What a brown study! Come, I have arrived +in time to laugh to you and of it!"</p> + +<p>His face did not reply to my gayety. He asked after my health.</p> + +<p>"But you are sitting on a wet, snowy bench. You will take cold."</p> + +<p>"No, I shall not take cold."</p> + +<p>"And how," said I, "is your——"</p> + +<p>I paused, for I now for the first time remarked a black crape on his +hat.</p> + +<p>He perceived my embarrassment and relieved me.</p> + +<p>"My children?"</p> + +<p>I was silent.</p> + +<p>"They are very well, I thank you—they are very well."</p> + +<p>"Come," added he, with an effort, after covering his eyes a moment with +his hand, "what have we now? Is there <i>really</i> to be a war?"</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Theodore S. Fay.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="INFLUENCES" id="INFLUENCES"></a>INFLUENCES.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The southern bird, which, swift in airy speed,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Toward ruder regions wings its careless way,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Wafts from its plumage oft a floating seed,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Unheeded relic of some tropic day.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And lo! a wonder! on the spot beneath</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The tiny germ asserts its mystic power;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">With sudden bloom illumes the rugged heath,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And bursts at once to fragrance, light, and flower.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the sad woodland flushes at the sight:</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The brook, which murmured, sparkles now, and sings:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The cowslips watch, with yearning, strange delight,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The bird which shed such glories from its wings,</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Watching it hover onward free and far;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Breathing farewell with restless doubt and pain.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">What were a heaven with but one only star?</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Must this be all? Will it not come again?</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While the new lily, lonely in her pride,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Sighing through silver bells, repeats the strain,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Longing for sister blossoms at her side,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And whispering soft, Will it not come again?</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Charles Carroll.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="DRIFT-WOOD" id="DRIFT-WOOD"></a>DRIFT-WOOD.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TWELVE-MONTH_SERMON" id="THE_TWELVE-MONTH_SERMON"></a>THE TWELVE-MONTH SERMON.</h2> + + +<p>The year's end is traditionally the season for moralizing and +retrospect. <i>Eheu! fugaces anni</i> is a sigh that even the Latin primer +teaches us; and though in schoolbook days calling the years fugacious +seems absurd, we catch the meaning as they glide away. To schoolboys the +man of fifty is immoderately old: thirty marks a milestone on the +downhill of life. People whom we looked upon as of great antiquity, in +childhood, turn out to have been mere striplings. I saw "old Kent" +yesterday after the lapse of thirty years, and protest he was younger +than when he rapped sepulchral silence from his resounding desk. "How +are you, Quilibet First?" he said, quite in the ancient way; he seemed +once more to brandish the ferrule on his awful throne.</p> + +<p>Boys always call schoolmasters and sextons "old," irrespective of their +years. Clerks in the shop style their employer "the old gentleman" +without meaning to impute antiquity. Gray-haired diggers and pounders +speak of their overseer as "the old man," even though he be a +rosy-cheeked youth of two-and-twenty. Lexicographers should look to +this. "Old" evidently means sometimes "having independent authority," +and does not necessarily signify either lack of freshness or being +stricken in years. Thus Philip Festus Bailey's dictum, that "we live in +deeds, not years," is borne out by common parlance, and future +Worcesters and Websters must make a note of it.</p> + +<p>Whoever, also, reaches a fixed position of authority, seems (rightly +enough, as the world goes) to have achieved success in life. This +measurement of success by the kind of occupation one follows begins with +us in short clothes. Mary's ambition is to be "either a milliner, a +queen, or a cook;" the ideal of Augustus is a woodchopper, killing bears +when they attack him at his work, and living in a hut. The sons of +confectioners must be marvels if they grow up alike unspoiled in morals +by the universal envy of comrades, and unspoiled in teeth by the +parental sugar-plums. People of older growth attach childish importance +to the trade one plies. Nobs and nabobs (at least on the stage) +disinherit daughters offhand for marrying grocers, and groan over sons +who take to high art. The smug and prudent citizen shudders at the +career of the filibuster, while the adventurer would commit suicide +rather than achieve a modest livelihood in tape and needles. The mother +of Sainte Beuve was sorely distressed at his pursuit of literature, a +career that she reckoned mere vagabondage, despite his brilliant feats +in it, until the day he was elected to the French Academy, and thereby +became entitled to $300 a year. "Then my mother was a little reassured; +thenceforth, <i>j'avais une place</i>."</p> + +<p>When the close of the year sets us to reckoning up how much we have made +of life, pray what is that "success" of which we all talk so glibly? It +is plainly a standard varying according to each man's taste and +temperament, his humility or vanity, and shifting as his life advances. +What to the Bohemian is success to the Philistine is stark failure. The +anchoret looks on this sublunary sphere as one of sighing, the attorney +as one of suing—there being all that difference betwixt law and gospel. +Sixty years cannot see life through the eyes of sixteen. When men, +fearing to measure themselves, seek the judgment of their fellows, +adulation or affection may lead astray. In the year's retrospect of +science, touching the solar eclipse it is said: "Cape Flattery is our +northwestern cape, and there occurred the largest obscuration of the sun +in the United States." "Cape Flattery," I fear, is the locus of largest +obscuration for the United States every year, and was particularly so in +the past twelvemonth of jubilee and gratulation; and what the mantle of +flattery is for the sunlight of truth in the nation it is in the +individual. In politics, at any rate, the centennial year is closing +with some reproof of our all-summer conceit. Our frame of government is +not so flawless as we fancied;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> the pharisaic contrast we drew between +our politics and those of other nations is no longer so effective.</p> + +<p>And with men as with nations, a ray of clear light reveals the shams and +shortcomings of what is hastily styled success. The pushing, elbowing +fellow gets ahead in the struggle of life, but his success is a +questionable one. The bargaining man, who, partly by instinct and partly +by practice, judges everything from the point of view, "How is that +going to affect me?" will no doubt make money. Even his most +disinterested advice pivots on the thought, "What will pay me best?" as +the magnet surely wheels to the pole. But when all is done, to have +achieved this artistic perfection of self-seeking is a sorry account to +give of life.</p> + +<p>Thus, the very successes on which we plume ourselves are sometimes +badges of disaster, as we ourselves may secretly know if others do not. +"When one composes long speeches," says Jarno, "with a view to shame his +neighbors, he should speak them to a looking-glass." If not a hypocrite +or a vain man, he may find himself blushing at the thought <i>de me fabula +narratur</i>. The only alteration that our satire on others may require is +to change the name of the folly or fault we lash, and then the stripes +will be merited by ourselves. The other day Temple and I listened to a +discourse of the Rev. Dr. Waddell of St Magdalen's on the perils of +novel-reading. I think the worthy doctor really refrains from that sin; +he is certainly severe on those who are given to it. "That fat man," +said Temple, as we strolled away from St. Magdalen's sanctuary, "is too +greedy, too gluttonous to listen to any cry but that of his own stomach. +His god is his belly. His indifference to the sufferings of others +amounts to a disease."</p> + +<p>"What disease do you call it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Fatty degeneration of the heart," replied Temple, with a laugh. On the +other hand, quite shocked at people who "make pigs" of themselves, is +Mrs. Pavanne, who starves her stomach to beautify her back, and who, I +assure you, would prefer after three days' fasting a new boiled silk and +trimmings to any similarly treated leg of mutton and capers.</p> + +<p>Grundy is a model of social demeanor and domesticity, but occasionally +cheats in a bargain wherever it is safe; Gregory, honest as the day, +gets tipsy. Let Gregory remember his own weakness before scorning +Grundy, and let Grundy respect the good in Gregory before holding him up +to disgrace. The question is often not whether X is a saint and Y a +Satan, but rather what road a man's indulgence takes. Is it body or +spirit that rules him—his fear, lust, vanity, gluttony, surliness, or +sloth? his humility, generosity, piety, sense of justice, sense of duty? +Is his cardinal weakness a vice or only a foible—a crime that degrades +or only a pettiness that narrows him?</p> + +<p>If we hold with Scripture that he who ruleth his spirit is greater than +he that taketh a city, we must not give all the laurels of success to +the mighty, wealthy, witty, and renowned. Poor John Jones, the clerk +yonder at a thousand a year, if we reckon at anything gentleness, +courage, simplicity, devotion to mother, wife, and babes, has made as +great a success of life as old Rollin Ritchie, the head of the house. +You would imagine a first use of wealth to be the liberty to pick at +will one's employees and allies, one's friends and agents, to repel the +dishonest and rebuke the impudent, dealing with those whom one chooses +to deal with, where personal choice can fairly be exercised; but such a +privilege is Utopian in business, even among men of fortune, and envied +Ritchie has little more freedom than humble Jones. Besides, the pursuit +of startling success, though it often ruins possibilities of +contentment, rarely creates them. Frédéric Soulié, having had the +misfortune to gain $16,000 in one year by his pen, refused a government +place at $3,000, with leisure to write an occasional play or a novel; he +was eager to produce half a dozen plays and novels in a twelvemonth, +says a biographer, and to repeat his $16,000; and he died of work and +watching in two years more.</p> + +<p>We are not, in these kindly Christmas days, to cynically deny to +unpromising careers all power of recovery. Temple was telling me the +other day of this instance known to him: Honorius had an exceedingly +dissolute son, who pursued his vicious courses almost unchecked by +parental rein, until he seemed to think his iniquities the rather +fostered than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> forbidden. But one day a friend of both questioned the +father why he allowed his son such abused license? "Sir," replied he, +"if my son chooses to go to the devil, as he is now fast going, he alone +must take the consequences." The conversation being reported to our +young rake, he was so affected by the view of his responsibility, which +he now appreciated for the first time, as to turn back toward the way of +virtue. And as before he had conceived his father in some sort liable +for those scandalous excesses, so now, being driven from that strange +error, he chooses for himself the path of honor and usefulness.</p> + +<p>In judging unsuccessful lives, too, we need to make large allowance for +the unknown elements of fortune. "It is fate," says the Greek adage, +"that bringeth good and bad to men; nor can the gifts of the immortals +be refused." But we can find justification for charitable judgments +without resorting to this general theory. We discover one youth, who +promised well, ruined by a bad choice of profession, while a second, who +selected well, finds the immediate problem in life to be not personal +eminence, but providing for a wife and half a dozen children: and if he +does fitly provide for them, pray, why set down his life, however pruned +of its first ambitious pinions, as a failure?</p> + +<p>So, finally, our unaspiring old-year homily simply chimes in with the +traditional spirit of Christmastide—season of hopeful words and wishes, +of kindness for the struggling, of encouragement for the discouraged, of +charity for the so-called failures.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="RIBBONS_AND_CORONETS_AT_MARKET_RATES" id="RIBBONS_AND_CORONETS_AT_MARKET_RATES"></a>RIBBONS AND CORONETS AT MARKET RATES.</h2> + + +<p>It is said that a Yankee has arranged to furnish foreign titles +(warranted genuine) of "earl or count for $10,000; European orders, from +$250 to $10,000; membership in foreign scientific and literary +societies, $250 and upward." The story is plausible. Impecunious princes +and potentates have been known to replenish their purses in this way, +though hitherto usually by private sale rather than market quotations. +It is not probable that our ingenious countryman has the Order of the +Seraphim or of the Annonciade at disposal, or that he can supply the +Golden Fleece to whoever will "gif a good prishe," or even that he +would pretend to furnish the Black Eagle of Prussia in quantities to +suit purchasers. He can hardly be the medium of creating many Knights of +the Garter, nor can the Bath or the St. Michael and St. George very well +be in his list of decorations "to order." But we know from the Paris and +Vienna fairs that a Cross of the Legion is obtainable by Americans of +the mercantile class; and as for the Lion and the Sun, it was an order +created by some bygone shah for the express purpose of rewarding +strangers who had rendered service to Persia; and what service more +substantial, pray, than helping to fill the Persian purse? When you come +to central and southern Europe, titles are going a-begging, and hard-up +princelets will presumably be eager to raise the wind with them.</p> + +<p>And there will be buyers as well as sellers. To the democratic mind a +royal star or ribbon is an object of befitting reverence. None of our +countrymen would, indeed, on purchasing a title, really ask to be +addressed as "Your lordship," or even to be familiarly called Grand +Forester or Sublime Bootjack to His Serene Highness—unless in private, +by some very much indulged servitor or judicious retainer. But though +the badge of nobility may not be worn in the streets by the happy +purchaser, for fear of attracting a rabble of the curious, he can fondly +gaze upon it in the privacy of home, or try it on for the admiration of +the domestic circle, or haply submit it to the inspection of discreet +friends.</p> + +<p>The case is different with the "bogus diploma" trade. Business and not +vanity is doubtless the ruling motive with the foreigners who strut in +plumage bought of the Philadelphia "university." The diploma of M. D. is +worth its price for display before the eyes of the patients waiting in +the "doctor's" office, while to Squeers of Dotheboys Hall the degree of +A. M. is good for at least three new pupils, and Ph. D. for a dozen. I +presume that in some of the foreign magazines and weekly newspapers of a +certain class, D. D. or L.L. D. has a real cash value of at least five +per cent. more in pay, or perhaps it may turn the scale in favor of an +article which, without that honorary signature, might be put in the +waste-paper basket. So long as such practical results can be had the +diploma<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> trade is likely to flourish, with full variety offered to +buyers.</p> + +<p>Now, it is not impossible to turn to trade account an Order of the +Elephant, of the Iron Crown, of the Legion of Honor, or of the +Medjidieh, as probably shrewd mechanics,contractors, and tradesmen in +America and England can attest. But while this is an additional +inducement to buyers, I am sure the new industry appeals to a loftier +emotion than that of mere money-making. America, in fact, is ripe for +this improvement. The modern phrase of ambition here in America is +"social status;" and dealers in heraldry are doing a business so +thriving in coats of arms for seal rings and scented note-paper, that I +fancy it is this that has suggested the trade in noble titles. The +village of Podunk looks down on the neighboring town of Hardscrabble. +"Hardscrabble," say the scornful Podunkers, "plumes itself on its +wealth, but Podunk prides herself on her birth—on her extremely old +families!" In fact you find all over the republic people talking of +their aristocratic families, and their "refined neighborhood," and +"refined birth"—even where, after all, it may be only a case of refined +petroleum.</p> + +<p>Here, then, is the sphere and the opportunity for the enterprising +middleman. He appeals to a tuft-hunting instinct so deep in human nature +that the mere surface difference of republic or monarchy hardly touches +it. In a London church you will see a pew full of ladies' maids, and +presently there is a great crowding and squeezing, and a low whisper of +"make room for Lady Philippa." It is only another lady's maid joining +her friends; but they all get titles by reflection. Turn from this scene +to the New York area steps, and the artful little rascal who is peddling +strawberries, says to Bridget, who answers the bell, "Have some berries, +<i>lady</i>?" knowing that this will make a market, if anything can. The fact +is, we all like to be "Colonel" and "Deacon" and "Doctor," instead of +simple Jones, Brown, and Robinson; calling us "the judge" or "alderman" +is a perpetual titillation of a pleasant feeling. "Good morning, Mr. +Secretary," or, "I hope you are very well, State Senator," is a greeting +that carries a kind of homage with it; and from that you go upward in +titular recognition of official eminence until you come to "His Great +Glorious and most Excellent Majesty, who reigns over the Kingdoms of +Thunaparanta and Tampadipa and all the Umbrella-Bearing Chiefs of the +Eastern Country, the King of the Rising Sun, Lord of the Celestial +Elephants, Master of Many White Elephants, the Great Chief of +Righteousness, King of Burmah."</p> + +<p><i>Macte virtute</i> I would say, then, to the peddlers of stars, crosses, +garters, and A. S. S.'s. There are poverty-stricken principalities and +hard-up beys and khedives enough to find ribbons for a thousand American +buttonholes, and to turn ten thousand of our exemplary fellow citizens +to chevaliers. An envious public sentiment might prevent the wearing of +all the ribbons and crosses that a liberal man of means could buy; but +decorations, like doorplates, are "so handy to have in the house." The +centennial year, by bringing to our shores a shoal of titled personages, +has presumably whetted the appetite of our people for heraldic +distinctions. But for years before we had even the village tailor +appearing occasionally in the local newspaper as Sir Knight Shears, and +the apothecary as Most Worthy Grand Commander and Puissant Potentate +Senna. If it is pleasant for Bobby Shears and Sammy Senna to be knighted +by their cronies and customers, how much more agreeable to the American +mind a decoration and investiture from a real prince!</p> + +<p>The possibilities, to be sure, are limited. Aristocratic exclusiveness +confines the Garter to twenty-five persons, the Order of the Thistle is +only for Scotch nobles, and the Iron Cross of Savoy is purely Italian; +military or naval services are required for the St. George of Russia and +the Victoria Cross; and it is to be feared that some sort of illustrious +services would be needed even for the Leopold of Belgium, the Iron Cross +of Prussia, the St. James of Spain, or the Tower and Sword of Portugal. +But in the little principalities of Germany, where the people are +ravenous for titular distinctions, there is a large supply; and as, in +fine, there are said to be sixscore orders of chivalry scattered over +both Christian and Mussulman lands, a wealthy aspirant may not despair +of reaching one or two of them without the pangs of knight errantry.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Philip Quilibet.</span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY" id="SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY"></a>SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="COMPLICATIONS_OF_THE_CHANNEL_TUNNEL" id="COMPLICATIONS_OF_THE_CHANNEL_TUNNEL"></a>COMPLICATIONS OF THE CHANNEL TUNNEL.</h2> + + +<p>Baron von Weber, a distinguished English engineer, predicts that the +Channel tunnel between England and France, if constructed, will be the +cause of great annoyance to English railway managers, and bring forward +some very acute observations in support of this opinion.</p> + +<p><i>The English railway system was a world of its own</i>; it was an insular +world which could hardly have been more peculiar if it had belonged to +another quarter of the globe altogether. All this, however, will change +as soon as the tunnel is pierced between England and the Continent.</p> + +<p><i>England will then no longer be an island, but a peninsula</i>, and +although the isthmus which connects it with the Continent will be +submarine, its effect on the railway system will be exactly the same as +if it were a natural one.</p> + +<p>If the importance of the object to be attained by the Channel tunnel is +to bear any rational proportion at all to the means required, the tunnel +will be constructed only if a very considerable goods traffic between +the two shores is expected, besides the large passenger traffic. Such a +traffic, which would have to compete with sea carriage, is only possible +for goods if shifting the loads is completely avoided, and the wagons +and trucks can run from England far into the Continent and <i>vice versa</i>. +Now the English exports to the Continent far exceed the imports from it. +The English trucks, therefore, loaded with rails, machines, coals, +cotton goods, etc., will, after passing the tunnel, be scattered far and +wide on the continental railways (whose length exceeds threefold that of +the whole British system), and will have to run distances five times as +great as from London to the Highlands.</p> + +<p>The English railway companies, who are now able to follow their rolling +stock almost with the naked eye, who know exactly how long each truck +will take to run the short distances in their island, who can, +therefore, provide proper loads both for the up and down journeys, +hence making the best use of their stock, and who are always aware in +whose hands their trucks are, will suddenly see a great number of them +disappear out of their sight and beyond their control on long journeys +and unknown routes. They will no longer be able to calculate, even +approximately, when the stock will return. England will therefore lose +an important percentage of its rolling stock, which will be but +incompletely replaced by the foreign wagons, which will remain in +England a much shorter time on account of the shorter distances. The +deficiency will have to be made up at considerable expense. The stock +will travel as far as the shores of the Black and Egean seas, to the +east coast of the Baltic, to the southernmost point of Italy, and to the +Pyrenees; it will pass over the lines of a dozen or more foreign +companies, be brought under the influence of three or four different +legislatures, police regulations, by-laws, Government inspections, etc., +and where three or four different languages are officially in use.</p> + +<p>Quite new legal obligations and intricacies will appear if the companies +having to forward goods direct into foreign countries send their wagons +into the territories of different jurisdictions. It will not be of much +use if the English companies attempt formally to confine their +transactions to the French railway which joins theirs. Claims from +Turkish, Russian, Austrian, Italian, German, Belgian, and French +railways will still be brought against them, in some cases requiring +direct and immediate communication.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_TOWN_OF_DWARFS" id="A_TOWN_OF_DWARFS"></a>A TOWN OF DWARFS.</h2> + + +<p>A writer in the London "Times" describes the effect of excessive +intermarriage on the inhabitants of Protés, a little town in the +province of Santander, Spain. Until eighteen or nineteen years ago, the +village was quite shut off from the rest of the world. Its inhabitants, +from their ever-recurring intermarriages, had become quite a race of +dwarfs. On market days the priests might be seen, with long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> black coats +and high black hats, riding in to purchase the simple provision for the +week's consumption—men of little intelligence and no learning, sprung +from the lowest ranks. About eighteen years ago the Galician laborers, +or Gallegos, from the mines of Galicia, swarmed into the town for +lodgings, etc., and since their colonization the population has +increased in strength, stature, education, intellect, and morality. +Their intellects, also, have improved—intellects which had been +stunted, dwarfed, and ruined by their frequent intermarriages.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WHOOPING_COUGH" id="WHOOPING_COUGH"></a>WHOOPING COUGH.</h2> + + +<p>According to Dr. Sturges, an English physician, whooping cough is not +always to be escaped by preventing contagion, for at a certain age the +disposition toward this disease is so great that the child will +originate it. He says: "Whooping cough is a nervous disease of immature +life, due immediately, like nervous asthma, to a morbid exaltation of +sensibility of the bronchial mucous membrane. Although possible in a +modified form at all ages, it has its period of special liability and +full development simultaneously with that time of life when the nervous +system is irritable and the mechanism of respiration diaphragmatic. A +child of the proper age with catarrh and cough is thus on the very brink +of whooping cough. A large proportion of such children will develop the +disease for themselves upon casual provocation, all contagion and all +epidemic influence apart." Therefore he does not think contagion plays +the important part generally supposed, and the assumption of a specific +morbid poison is in his opinion entirely gratuitous. As to treatment he +says:</p> + +<p>"The specific remedies for whooping cough (which have their season and +may be said now to include all drugs whatever of any potency) have all +of them a certain testimony in their favor. They agree in a single +point: whether by their nauseousness, the grievous method of their +application, or the disturbance they bring to the child's habits and +surroundings, the best vaunted remedies—emetics, sponging of the +larynx, ill-flavored inhalation, change of scene, beating with the +rod—all are calculated to <i>impress</i> the patient, and find their use +accordingly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BRITISH_ASSOCIATION_NOTES" id="BRITISH_ASSOCIATION_NOTES"></a>BRITISH ASSOCIATION NOTES.</h2> + + +<p>The committee appointed to test experimentally Ohm's law, that with any +conductor the electromotive force is proportioned to the current +produced, reports that this law is absolutely correct. If a conductor of +iron, platinum, or German silver of one square centimetre in section has +a resistance of one ohm for infinitely small currents, its resistance +when acted on by an electromotive force of one volt (provided its +temperature is kept the same) is not altered by so much as the millionth +of a millionth part. This fine result is the more gratifying since Ohm's +law is entirely empirical and does not rest at all upon logical +deduction.</p> + +<p>The vast amount of water circulating through the solid earth is shown by +the calculations of the committee on the underground waters of the +Permian and New Red sandstones.</p> + +<p>Taking an average rainfall of 30 inches per annum, and granting that +only 10 inches percolate into the rock, the supply of water stored up by +the Permian and New Red formations was estimated by the committee to +amount to 140,800,000 gallons per square mile per year. This rate would +give, for the 10,000 square miles covered by the formations, in Great +Britain, 1,408,000,000,000 gallons. Only a very small proportion of this +amount is made available for the supply of cities and towns.</p> + +<p>The subject of the chemical constitution of matter was taken up by Mr. +Johnstone Stoney, F. R. S., who amused and interested the chemical +section by a number of drawings of tetrahedra, octahedra, etc., on to +which he dexterously stuck representations of oxygen atoms, chlorine +atoms, and so on. His general endeavor seemed to be to convince his +auditors that in most basic salts oxygen is divalent, being in direct +combination with the acidifying constituent of the molecule, but that +when oxygen is not so directly related to this constituent in basic +salts it is tetravalent.</p> + +<p>In the geological section, Dr. Bryce observed that there are two lines +along which earthquakes are commonly observed in Scotland, the one +running from Inverness, through the north of Ireland, to Galway bay, and +the other passing east and west through Comrie. The phenomena of +earthquakes in the latter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> district are now being systematically +observed and recorded, under the direction of a committee appointed by +the British Association, seismometers being employed on the two +principles of vertical pendulum and delicately poised cylinders. +Arrangements have been made to ascertain whether shocks in this region +can be traced to any common central point, there being reason to believe +them to be connected with a mass of granite in Glen Lednoch, whose +position was indicated on a map exhibited by the author. He thought the +Comrie earthquakes may be explained on Mr. Mallet's theory of a shock +produced by the fall of huge masses of rock from the roof of huger +caverns in the earth's crust.</p> + +<p>In a paper on the plants of the coal measures, Prof. W. C. Williamson +expressed his strong conviction that the flora of the coal measures +would ultimately become the battlefield on which the question of +evolution with reference to the origin of species would be fought out. +There would probably never be found another unbroken period of a +duration equal to that of the coal measures. Further, the roots, seeds, +and the whole reproductive structure of the coal-measure plants are all +present in an unequalled state of preservation. With reference to +calamites, Prof. Williamson said that what had formerly been regarded as +such had turned out to be only casts in sand and mud of the pith of the +true plant. He had lately obtained a specimen of calamite with the bark +on which showed a nucleal cellular pith, surrounded by canals running +lengthwise down the stem; outside of these canals wedges of true +vascular structure; and lastly, a cellular bark.</p> + +<p>In the department of anthropology, Dr. Phené read a paper "On Recent +Remains of Totemism in Scotland." He defined Totemism as a form of +idolatry; a totem was either a living creature or a representation of +one, mostly an animal, very seldom a man. It was considered, from +reference to Pictish and other devices, that a dragon was a favorite +representative among such people of Britain as had not been brought +under Roman sway.</p> + +<p>Mr. W. J. Knowles read a paper "On the Classification of Arrowheads," +recommending the use of the following terms: stemmed, indented, +triangular, leaf-shaped, kite-shaped, and lozenge-shaped. Commander +Cameron, the African explorer, mentioned that arrow-heads of the same +shape as many exhibited by Mr. Knowles were in use in various African +tribes. One shape was formed so as to cause the arrow to rotate, and was +principally used for shooting game at long distances. The shape of the +arrows varied according to the taste of the makers; in one district +there were forty or fifty different shapes.</p> + +<p>Commander Cameron gave drawings of the men with horns, a tribe of which +has been found by Captain J. S. Hay. According to the reproductions of +these drawings by the illustrated papers, these horns are very +prominent, and project forward from the cheekbone.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gwin-Jeffreys, whose experience in deep-sea dredging makes his +opinion valuable, said that telegraph engineers did not sufficiently +take account of the sharp stones on the sea bottom, but assumed too +readily that they had to deal with a soft bottom only.</p> + +<p>Mr. John Murray of the Challenger expedition announced that meteoric +dust is found in the sea ooze, a result that follows as a matter of +course from the discovery that this cosmic dust is falling all over the +earth.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AN_ENGLISH_CROP" id="AN_ENGLISH_CROP"></a>AN ENGLISH CROP.</h2> + + +<p>The yearly trial of harvesting machines was made this year at +Leamington, and the rye grass field, where the reapers and mowers were +worked, has its history given in the "Engineer," London. "It will be +interesting if we first describe this rye grass crop and the preceding +crop. A crop of wheat was grown in this field of seven acres last year, +and by the end of September it was well cultivated and sown with rye +grass seed. Three crops before this have been cut this year, the weight +of which was about eight tons to the acre for each crop, and as the +selling price was 1s. 6d. (36 cents) per cwt., this was at the rate of +£12 ($60) per acre per crop, or £36 per acre for the three crops. Had +not the last crop been set apart for the reaper and mower trials, it +would have been cut three weeks ago, when there were again about eight +tons to the acre. As it was, however, last week the crop had gone too +much to seed, and was too much laid for being of prime<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> quality; the +result of which is, Mr. Tough, the owner, reckons the plants are too +much spent to stand well through a second year, and he therefore +contemplates turning it over in the spring for mangolds. Mr. Tough +calculated, however, that there were ten tons to the acre this cut, and +lots of carts and vans came to take the best of it; that is, the parts +which were not laid and yellow at the bottom, at the same price, 1s. 6d. +per cwt. The carts are weighed in over a weigh-bridge, and weighed out +again after the buyers have loaded up as much as they choose or require. +We may add this is better than selling by square measure. As to the next +growth, Mr. Tough says he shall get two more fair cuts this autumn if +the weather be warm, and he expects the two together will weigh eight +tons per acre more. As there will be a certain sale for this at 1s. 6d. +per cwt., this year's yield will realize the great return of £60 ($300) +per acre.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="INFLUENCE_OF_WHITE_COLORS" id="INFLUENCE_OF_WHITE_COLORS"></a>INFLUENCE OF WHITE COLORS.</h2> + + +<p>Prof. Wallace gave at Glasgow some curious speculations based upon the +peculiarities observable in white animals. He had been discussing at +great length and with rare knowledge the distribution of butterflies, +remarking that some of the island groups were noticeably light-colored, +and endeavored to connect their color with their environment as follows:</p> + +<p>Some very curious physiological facts, bearing upon the presence or +absence of white colors in the higher animals, have lately been adduced +by Dr. Ogle. It has been found that a colored or dark pigment in the +olfactory region of the nostrils is essential to perfect smell, and this +pigment is rarely deficient except when the whole animal is pure white. +In these cases the creature is almost without smell or taste. This, Dr. +Ogle believes, explains the curious case of the pigs in Virginia adduced +by Mr. Darwin, white pigs being poisoned by a poisonous root, which does +not affect black pigs. Mr. Darwin imputed this to a constitutional +difference accompanying the dark color, which rendered what was +poisonous to the white-colored animals quite innocuous to the black. Dr. +Ogle, however, observes, that there is no proof that the black pigs eat +the root, and he believes the more probable explanation to be that it +is distasteful to them, while the white pigs, being deficient in smell +and taste, eat it, and are killed. Analogous facts occur in several +distinct families. White sheep are killed in the Tarentino by eating +Hypericum Criscum, while black sheep escape: white rhinoceroses are said +to perish from eating Euphorbia Candelabrum; and white horses are said +to suffer from poisonous food, where colored ones escape. Now it is very +improbable that a constitutional immunity from poisoning by so many +distinct plants should in the case of such widely different animals be +always correlated with the same difference of color; but the facts are +readily understood if the senses of smell and taste are dependent on the +presence of a pigment which is deficient in wholly white animals. The +explanation has, however, been carried a step further, by experiments +showing that the absorption of odors by dead matter, such as clothing, +is greatly affected by color, black being the most powerful absorbent, +then blue, red, yellow, and lastly white. We have here a physical cause +for the sense inferiority of totally white animals which may account for +their rarity in nature. For few, if any, wild animals are wholly white. +The head, the face, or at least the muzzle or the nose, are generally +black. The ears and eyes are also often black; and there is reason to +believe that dark pigment is essential to good hearing, as it certainly +is to perfect vision. We can therefore understand why white cats with +blue eyes are so often deaf; a peculiarity we notice more readily than +their deficiency of smell or taste.</p> + +<p>If then the prevalence of white-coloration is generally accompanied with +some deficiency in the acuteness of the most important senses, this +color becomes doubly dangerous, for it not only renders its possessor +more conspicuous to its enemies, but at the same time makes it less +ready in detecting the presence of danger. Hence, perhaps, the reason +why white appears more frequently in islands where competition is less +severe and enemies less numerous and varied. Hence, also, a reason why +albinoism, although freely occurring in captivity, never maintains +itself in a wild state, while melanism does. The peculiarity of some +islands in having all their inhabitants of dusky colors—as the +Galapa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>gos—may also perhaps be explained on the same principles; for +poisonous fruits or seeds may there abound, which weed out all white or +light-colored varieties, owing to their deficiency of smell and taste. +We can hardly believe, however, that this would apply to white-colored +butterflies, and this may be a reason why the effect of an insular +habitat is more marked in these insects than in birds or mammals. But +though inapplicable to the lower animals, this curious relation of sense +acuteness with colors may have had some influence on the development of +the higher human races. If light tints of the skin were generally +accompanied by some deficiency in the senses of smell, hearing, and +vision, the white could never compete with the darker races, so long as +man was in a very low and savage condition, and wholly dependent for +existence on the acuteness of his senses. But as the mental faculties +become more fully developed and more important to his welfare than mere +sense acuteness, the lighter tints of skin, and hair, and eyes, would +cease to be disadvantageous whenever they were accompanied by superior +brain power. Such variations would then be preserved; and thus may have +arisen the Xanthochroic race of mankind, in which we find a high +development of intellect accompanied by a slight deficiency in the +acuteness of the senses as compared with the darker forms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AN_INVOLVED_ACCIDENT" id="AN_INVOLVED_ACCIDENT"></a>AN INVOLVED ACCIDENT.</h2> + + +<p>Though American recklessness of life is proverbial among foreigners, we +may be thankful that India-rubber bags of explosive gases are not +carried by ignorant boys through our streets, as in Newcastle, England. +The practice resulted by a singular chain of mishaps in a violent +explosion. The first error was in using a bag for conveying an explosive +gas; the second in using a <i>leaky</i> bag; the third in the experimenter, +who put coal gas into a bag containing oxygen; the fourth in sending a +boy to deliver it. Then comes a chapter of results. The boy became tired +and stopped to rest, dropping the bag on the pavement. Just as he did so +a passer-by lit his pipe and threw the burning match down. By chance it +fell upon the innocent looking bag, and probably just at the spot where +it leaked. After the consequent explosion only two pieces of the bag +could be found, one of which was thrown through the top windows of the +bank. Even the sound wave, or wave of concussion, had a mind to +distinguish itself. It entirely missed the first floor windows of the +bank, and left them uninjured, though the windows in both the ground +floor and the second floor were broken. The wave seems to have crossed +the street, smashing the ground windows there, and then been deflected +back across the street and upward to the top story of the bank.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AN_OLD_AQUEDUCT_SYSTEM" id="AN_OLD_AQUEDUCT_SYSTEM"></a>AN OLD AQUEDUCT SYSTEM.</h2> + + +<p>Ancient life is not usually considered to have been very cleanly, but it +is to the credit of the Romans that as much as 2,200 years ago they made +up their minds to reject the water of the Tiber as unfit to drink. They +hunted for springs in the mountains, and in the course of a few +centuries so many aqueducts were built that Rome had theoretically a +better supply of water than any modern city enjoys. Practically, +however, the Romans suffered from a peculiar kind of water pilfering. +Instead of 400,000,000 gallons daily which the springs furnished, the +city received only 208,000,000 gallons. This immense loss, says a +careful paper by the Austrian engineer, E. H. d'Avidor, arose partly +through neglect of the necessary repairs in the aqueducts, but still +more through the water being positively <i>stolen</i>. For one of the +principal favors by which the State and the emperors were in the habit +of rewarding minor services was by granting concessions for the <i>lost</i> +water; that is, for the water which escaped through the overflow of the +reservoirs, cisterns, and public fountains, or through the defects in +the aqueducts and mains. The consequence, of course, was that every +landed proprietor who had obtained a concession for the waste water +escaping from an aqueduct passing through his grounds was anxious to +increase this waste as much as possible—and from this wish to +intentional injury was but a step. The overseers and slaves in charge +were constantly bribed to abstain from repairing damages which had +arisen, or to cause new ones to arise, and these abuses reached such a +pitch that one aqueduct (Tepula) brought <i>no</i> water whatever to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> Rome +during several years, the whole having been wasted, or rather abstracted +on its way. The irregularities of the water supply were still further +increased by the nature of the mains and distributing pipes, which, as I +have mentioned, were mere lead plates soldered into a pear-shaped +section, incapable of resisting even the most moderate pressure and +liable to injury by a common knife, so that any evil-disposed person +could tap the main almost wherever he pleased. At a later period, +indeed, the Romans appear to have used short clay pipes; lengths of such +mains have been discovered, consisting of two-feet spigot and socket +pipes carefully laid in and covered with a bed of concrete. These have +outlasted all the lead pipes, and are still frequently found in good +condition.</p> + +<p>In the reign of Augustus, when Rome had about 350,000 inhabitants within +its walls, there was a supply of something like 680 gallons per head; +that is, about forty times as much as the valuation for Vienna. But +there were in ancient Rome no less than 1,352 public fountains, 591 jet +fountains, 19 large fortified camps or barracks, 95 thermæ or immense +public baths, and 39 arenas or theatres, all of which were supplied with +a superfluity of constantly flowing water. The reservoirs contained only +about 6,000,000 gallons, and the distribution must have been very +irregular, and it has been calculated that some houses received ten +times as much water as others. Just as the Western miner reckons the +quantity of water by the <i>inch</i>, the Roman estimated it by the +<i>quinarius</i>, or amount that could flow through a pipe of one and a +quarter <i>finger</i> diameter, under a head of twelve inches. This would +yield about ninety-two gallons in twelve hours, and the price was so low +that the householder paid only about half a cent <i>per year</i> for each +gallon supplied daily. Ninety-two gallons a day would therefore cost +less than half a dollar a year. (In New York it would cost nearly $18.) +But though cheap, the water was not a vested right of all citizens. The +poor had it for nothing in the ample baths, wash houses, and fountains, +but householders could only obtain the right of water supply by a +petition to the consul, and in later times to the emperor himself; even +then, however, with difficulty. It was a matter of favor and a reward +of merit, that applied only to the person to whom it was granted, not +transferable by gift or sale, and which lapsed with the death of the +owner or the sale of the house for which it had been granted.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GALVANISM_CANNOT_RESTORE_EXHAUSTED_VITALITY" id="GALVANISM_CANNOT_RESTORE_EXHAUSTED_VITALITY"></a>GALVANISM CANNOT RESTORE EXHAUSTED VITALITY.</h2> + + +<p>Dr. B. W. Richardson says that artificial respiration is a much more +effective means of restoring the drowned or asphyxiated than galvanism. +By the use of an intermittent current of galvanism it is possible to +make the respiratory muscles of an animal recently dead act in precise +imitation of life, and the heart can be excited into brisk contraction +by the same means. But the result was that "the muscles excited by the +current dropped quickly into irrevocable death through becoming +exhausted under the stimulus, and that in fact the galvanic battery, +according to our present knowledge of its use in these cases, is an all +but certain instrument of death. By subjecting animals to death from the +vapor of chloroform in the same atmosphere, and treating one set by +artificial respiration with the double-acting pump, and the other set by +artificial respiration excited by galvanism, I found that the first +would recover in the proportion of five out of six, the second in +proportion of one out of six. Further, I found that if during the +performance of mechanical artificial respiration the heart were excited +by galvanism, death is all but invariable." This results from the fact +that "the passage of a galvanic current through the muscles of a body +recently dead confers on those muscles no new energy; that the current +in its passage only excites temporary contraction; that the force of +contraction resident in the muscles themselves is but educed by the +excitation, and to strike the life out of the muscles by the galvanic +shock without feeding the force, expended by contraction, from the +centre of the body, is a fatal principle of practice."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CURIOUS_OPTICAL_EXPERIMENTS" id="CURIOUS_OPTICAL_EXPERIMENTS"></a>CURIOUS OPTICAL EXPERIMENTS.</h2> + + +<p>Prof. Nipher of the Washington university at St. Louis describes some +optical illusions, easily tried and apparently very singular, as +follows: 1. Fold a sheet of writing paper into a tube whose di<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>ameter +is about three cm. Keeping both eyes open, look through the tube with +one eye, and look at the hand with the other, the hand being placed +close by the tube. An extraordinary phenomenon will be observed. A hole +the size of the tube will appear cut through the hand, through which +objects are distinctly visible. That part of the tube between the eye +and the hand will appear transparent, as though the hand was seen +through it. This experiment is not new, but I have never seen it +described. The explanation of it is quite evident.</p> + +<p>2. Drop a blot of ink upon the palm of the hand, at the point where the +hole appears to be, and again observe as before. Unless the attention be +strongly concentrated upon objects seen through the tubes the ink-spot +will be visible within the tube (apparently), but that part of the hand +upon which it rests will be invisible, unless special attention be +directed to the hand. Ordinarily the spot will appear opaque. By +directing the tube upon brilliantly illuminated objects, it will, +however, appear transparent, and may be made to disappear by proper +effort. By concentrating the attention upon the hand, it may also be +seen within the tube (especially if strongly illuminated), that part +immediately surrounding the ink spot appearing first.</p> + +<p>3. Substitute for the hand a sheet of unruled paper, and for the ink +spot a small hole cut through the paper. The small hole will appear +within the tube, distinguishing itself by its higher illumination, the +paper immediately surrounding it being invisible. Many other curious +experiments will suggest themselves. For example: if an ink spot +somewhat larger than the tube be observed, the lower end of the tube +will appear to be blackened on the inside.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ICE_MACHINES" id="ICE_MACHINES"></a>ICE MACHINES.</h2> + + +<p>Ice machines are constructions designed to employ the heat generated +from coal in extracting the heat stored up in water at the ordinary +temperature. One ton of coal will make 15 tons of ice, and yet only +about 1 per cent. of the power used is utilized, these machines being +especially wasteful of heat. The work is done through the medium of some +volatile fluid, like ether or ammonia, or by the use of previously +cooled air. Raoul Pictet, who advocates the employment of another +fluid—sulphurous acid solution—says that every machine must comply +with five conditions: 1. Too great pressure must not occur in any part +of the apparatus. 2. The volatile liquid employed ought to be so +volatile that there will be no danger of air entering. 3. It is +necessary to have a system of compression which does not require the +constant introduction of grease or of foreign materials into the +machine. 4. The liquid must be stable, it must not decompose by the +frequent changes of condition, and it must not exert chemical action on +the metals of which the apparatus is constructed. 5. Lastly, it is +necessary, as far as possible, to remove all danger of explosion and of +fire, and for this reason the liquid must not be combustible. The only +substance, in his opinion, that answers these requirements is sulphurous +acid. This subject is a very important one. If the utilization of heat +could be carried to 3 per cent., as in most machines, it might be +possible to make ice cheaper in New York than to gather, store, and +transport it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AMERICAN_ANTIQUITIES" id="AMERICAN_ANTIQUITIES"></a>AMERICAN ANTIQUITIES.</h2> + + +<p>Some months ago the telegraph announced that a Congress of Americanistes +had met in Nancy in France, and few people in this country could imagine +who the congressmen were or whether they were of this country. It was, +in fact, the meeting of a society, composed chiefly of Europeans, which +means to prosecute studies in the history, language, and character of +American aborigines. This is a laudable work. America probably offers +the most important field for ethnological study in the world. The great +extent of her two continents gave the freest scope for the complete +development of whatever capacity for civilization her people had; and +yet savagism continued here for many centuries after it had ceased in +Europe. Thus the student in going back three hundred years can penetrate +the past as far in this country as he can reach in Europe by pursuing +his inquiries back for two to three thousand years. Under ordinary +circumstances this fact would make American history much easier to study +than those of Europe where the remnants left by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> the savage tribes are +dimmed by an extraordinary progress or covered by the débris of +centuries of movement. But the truth is it is about as easy to learn the +habits of the ancient Britons as those of the American tribes, even the +most civilized, five centuries ago. This is partly due to the wanton +destruction of valuable records by the early conquerors and partly to +the prepossession that most men, even able ones, seem to be shackled +with; namely, that the origin of America's former inhabitants is to be +sought in some people of Asia. If they would leave that question for the +twentieth century to decide, and begin a painstaking inquiry into what +was going on in this country before its discovery, ask not <i>who</i>, but +what sort of men inhabited it, their habits and their relations, the +gentlemen who compose this society of Americanistes would probably reach +valuable results. There is plenty to occupy them. If they do not want to +grapple at once such a knotty subject as the relation of the Mound +Builders to the existing tribes, let them explore Spain for relics of +the Aztecs. It is highly probable that records of the most precious +character are still to be found there in public archives and in private +hands, the descendants perhaps of common soldiers of Cortes's army, who +were quite likely to send home during and after the Conquest things that +were odd and quaint to them and which would be invaluable to us now. As +it is, the time of the Nancy Congress of Americanistes has been too much +occupied with efforts to make the ancient inhabitants of this country a +tag to one of the numerous Asian migrations. All such attempts have been +failures, for the simple reason that we do not have facts enough to +prove <i>any</i> theory. Still they have done some good work, and though the +subject is not of the most importance, we can but think that M. +Comettant's paper on "Music in America" before its discovery by Columbus +must have been as correct in purpose as it appears daring in subject.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Some seeds will germinate when placed between pieces of ice and kept at +a freezing temperature; and it is thought that, this method will afford +an easy means of selecting varieties of seed which will bear a cold +climate.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The explosion in the coal mines at Jabin, Belgium, last February, was +due to the ignition of fine coal powder suspended in the air.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>A Vienna lady, who had been maid of honor to the Empress Maria Theresa, +lately died in that city at the age of one hundred and nineteen years. +That is certainly a well established case of longevity extending beyond +a century.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The rare metal vanadium is worth 13,000 francs ($2,600) per pound; about +eight times as much as gold. And yet vanadium is, as Dr. Hayes has +shown, a very widely diffused metal. It forms, however, only a mere +trace in most rocks.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>W. Siemens has lately determined velocity of propagation of electricity +in suspended iron telegraph wires, and finds it to be between 30,000 and +35,000 miles per second. Kirchhoff had determined it at 21,000 miles and +Wheatstone at 61,900 miles.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Prof. Forel of Switzerland has proved that the water of lakes oscillates +almost constantly from one bank to another, and this not only from end +to end, but also from side to side. Thus the Swiss lakes have two +<i>Seiches</i>, as they are called, in opposite directions.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The sewage schemes have had a good many indignant critics and fervent +defenders. Of the former is Mr. Louis Thompson, who says that the sewage +discharged into seacoast harbors floats on the surface, being lighter +than salt water. Its solid portions are cast up on the shore and in +shoal places, there to become the food of animals, among which are shell +fish, that serve for man's food.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Boys' kites can be kept from plunging by making both the wood cross +pieces in the form of a bow, instead of flat. The string is placed a +little above the centre of the upright bow, and a very light tail +attached. These kites are very steady, and if a string attached to one +side of the centre is pulled after the kite has risen, it can be made to +fly as much as thirty degrees from the wind. For this reason it is +proposed to use kites for bringing a vessel to windward.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CURRENT_LITERATURE" id="CURRENT_LITERATURE"></a>CURRENT LITERATURE.</h2> + + +<p>Mrs. Annie Edwards's last book<a name="FNanchor_K_11" id="FNanchor_K_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a> does not open well in point of style. +The first paragraph of the first chapter is: "She was a woman of nearly +thirty when I first saw her; a woman spiritless and worn beyond her +years," etc. This beginning not only a chapter but a book with a pronoun +implying an antecedent is very bad, in the low and vulgar way of +badness. It brings to mind the superhuman daily efforts of the "American +humorist" of journalism to be funny; and it should be left to him and to +his kind. And in the next paragraph Mrs. Edwards describes her heroine +as "walking wearily along the weary street of Chesterford St. Mary." Bad +style again, and this time in the way of affectation. A man's way may be +weary if he is tired or weak; but not even then should it be so called, +when he has just been spoken of as weary himself, or as walking wearily; +and weary as applied descriptively to a village street is almost +nonsense. These defects are not important, but they arrest attention as +being at the very opening of the story. And it must be confessed that +for a chapter or two "A Point of Honor" is rather slight in texture and +commonplace. It is, however, interesting enough to lead us on, and the +reader who holds his way into the third or fourth chapter is repaid. The +authoress then warms up to her work, and begins to show her quality, +which is that of a true literary artist. We do not say a great artist, +be it observed, but a true artist. She paints only <i>genre</i> pictures; but +unlike most works of that class (on canvas at least), they are not mere +representations of pretty faces and pretty clothes. She works with a +real knowledge of the human heart, and her work is full of feeling. She +does nothing in the grand style; even her most loving women do not have +grand passions; but all her work is truthful and warm with real life, +and her earnest people are really in earnest. The story of "A Point of +Honor" is interesting, although its incidents are not all out of the +common way. Gifford Mohun, the handsome young heir of Yatton, an estate +in Devonshire, loves, when he is only twenty, one Jane Grand, a +beautiful and sweet-natured girl who is only a year younger than +himself. Nothing is known of her history. She herself does not know her +own parentage. All this has been concealed from her at her father's +request, and with some reason; for it comes out that she is the daughter +of a felon, who died in the hulks, by a minor French actress, a +modification of whose name, Grandet, she bears. When she knows this, she +refuses to taint Mohun's name and life with such dishonor, and he +accepts her decision; doing so with two implications on the part of the +authoress: first, that he was selfish in doing so at all; next, that +doing it he did it coldly and with a false affectation of feeling. He +leaves Yatton and its neighborhood, and plunges into dissipation. Jane +remains at Chesterford, leading her solitary life and loving him. +Meantime the vicar, Mr. Follett, a man of strong nature, much +tenderness, and great tact, whose character is admirably drawn, loves +Jane, and quietly bides his time. After ten years, however, Mohun +returns, walks into Jane's parlor, and asks her to be friends with him. +She, loving him no less than ever, assents gladly, and thereafter he is +almost domesticated in her cottage. He has become somewhat gross in +manner and in speech, as well as in person; but Jane loves him, and +watches for his coming, day by day, as when she was a girl. This goes on +for some months, with a slight admixture of the curate, when all at once +a new personage appears upon the scene. Mohun receives a letter, which +he shows to Jane, and asks her advice about. It is from a Matty +Fergusson, whom he remembers as the untidy little daughter of some +disreputable people he knew something of at a German watering place. She +tells a sad tale of destitution, and asks him to recommend her to some +of his friends as a governess or companion. He is dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>gusted and +angered at the intrusion, and proposes to send her a five-pound note, or +perhaps ten pounds, and so end the matter. But Jane, whom he asks to +write the letter for him, is touched with pity for the poor girl's +forlornness and suffering, and writes an invitation to her to come to +Chesterford and visit her for a week. She brings a Greek horse within +the walls of her little Troy. She and Gifford expect to see a poor, +meek, limp, shabbily dressed slip of a girl; but Miss Matty Fergusson +enters the cottage a tall and magnificently beautiful young woman; her +grandeur both of toilet and person quite dwarfing the poor little +cottage and its poor little mistress. The end is now visible. Matty +Fergusson is the adventuress daughter of an adventuress mother. Nothing +was true in her letter except the story of her poverty; and she has +played this game with the direct purpose of catching the master of +Yatton. She succeeds; and when Jane speaks to him about its being time +for his overwhelming young friend to depart, he becomes rude and makes a +brutal speech, which undeceives Jane, and kills her love for him. Mohun, +however, does not give himself up to the Fergusson without an attempt at +freedom, and an endeavor to resume his relations with Jane, whom he now +appreciates at her full worth. He confesses and deplores his fault and +begs forgiveness, and offers to break with Miss Fergusson at any cost, +if Jane will give him back her love. But she, although she forgives, +will not receive him again on the old footing, and he drives off with +his handsome adventuress wife, and Jane loves and is married to Mr. +Follett. The story is told with great and yet with very simple skill, +and the characters of the few personages are revealed rather than +portrayed. And by the way, we remark upon Mrs. Edwards's ability to +interest her readers and work out a story with few materials. She rarely +depends for her effects upon more than four or five personages. She is +equally reserved in her manner. She does not paint black and white, but +with human tints only in light and shadow. In this book Mohun's +selfishness is shown with a very delicate hand, and although we are left +in no doubt as to his real character, he is dealt with in such an +impartial and artistic spirit, that some similarly selfish men will +apologize for him and some others will, it may be hoped, read +themselves in him and struggle against the worse part of their natures. +Jane is, perhaps, more angel than woman, but then a good woman who loves +is so often truly angelic with an admixture of human passion that makes +her more loveable as well as more loving than any angel ever was, that +we cannot find fault with poor Jane's perfection. In reading this book +we cannot but remark the common nature of its subject in women's novels +nowadays. The themes on which they write endless variations are the +selfishness of men, and the unselfishness of women in love. Of the men +in the women-written novels of the day, so many are plausible, +agreeable, clever, accomplished, heartless creatures; only a few escape +the general condemnation, and they are those queer creatures "women's +men"—impossible, and bores, like Daniel Deronda. The heroines, major +and minor, love devotedly. But George Eliot does not fall into the +latter blunder. For some reason she is able to see the feminine as well +as the masculine side of social and sexual selfishness. This treatment +of men on the part of the sex is remarkable, for women themselves will +admit and do admit, in unguarded moments, that there is somewhat less of +disinterestedness in this matter on woman's side than on man's. But the +point, we suppose, is this, that woman, when she does love with all her +heart, loves with a blind devotion, an exclusiveness of admiration and +of passion, and a persistency, which she demands from man, which, not +having, she doubts whether she is loved at all, and which, it must be +confessed, rare in woman, is much more rare in man, with whom indeed it +is exceptional. The truth is that man's love is as different from +woman's as his body is; but it is, therefore, none the less worth having +if she would only think so. Man is made to have less exclusiveness of +feeling in this respect than woman has. He would not be man else, nor +she woman if she were otherwise. The mistake is in her expectation of +receiving exactly the same as she gives. She has found out that she does +not get it, or does so very rarely, and the men in women's novels of the +Gifford Mohun type are one of the ways in which she proclaims and +avenges her wrongs.</p> + +<p>—"The Barton Experiment," by "the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> author of 'Helen's Babies,'"<a name="FNanchor_L_12" id="FNanchor_L_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_12" class="fnanchor">[L]</a> +cannot be called a novel—hardly a tale—and yet it is a story—the +story of a great "temperance movement" at Barton, which is supposed to +be a village somewhere at the west—in Kentucky, we should say, from +certain local references. We do not know who the author of Helen's +Babies is—he, and Helen, and her babies being alike strangers to us; +but he is a clever writer, and a humorist, with no little dramatic +power. His personages are studies from nature, and have individuality +and life; albeit they reveal a somewhat narrow horizon of observation. +He uses largely, but always humorously, the western style of +exaggeration; as, for example, when he makes one of his reformers tell a +steamboat captain that if he will stop drinking whiskey, he will make a +reputation, and "be as famous as the Red River raft or the Mammoth +Cave—<i>the only thing of the sort west of the Alleghanies</i>." He +describes his people in a way that shows that he has them in the eye of +his imagination; as in this portrait of a Mrs. Tappelmine: "With face, +hair, eyes, and garments of the same color, the color itself being +neutral; small, thin, faded, inconspicuous, poorly clad, bent with +labors which had yielded no return, as dead to the world as saints +strive to be, <i>yet remaining in the world for the sake of those whom she +had often wished out of it</i>," etc. The book is in every way clever, and +its purpose is admirable—the lesson which it is written to teach being +that personal effort and personal sacrifice on the part of reformers is +necessary to reclaim hard drinkers. But the radical fault of all such +moral story writing is that the writer makes his puppets do as he likes. +The drinking steamboat captain yields to the persuasions of his friend, +and even submits to necessary personal restraint. But how if he had not +yielded? Old Tappelmine gives up his whiskey for the sake of money and +employment, which inducements are strongly backed by his neutral-colored +wife; but how if he had been brutally selfish and immovable? In both +these cases, and in all the others, failure was at least quite as likely +as success. People in real life cannot be managed as they can upon +paper. Still the book contains a truth, and is likely to do good.</p> + +<p>—The +same publishers have also brought out an illustrated book by Bayard +Taylor,<a name="FNanchor_M_13" id="FNanchor_M_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_13" class="fnanchor">[M]</a> which is suitable to the coming holiday season. It is a +collection of short tales of adventure in different parts of the world, +in which boys take a prominent part. It is one of the fruits of the +author's extended travels, and is manly, simple, and healthy—a very +good sort of book for those for whom it is intended, which, in these +days of mawkish or feverish "juvenile" literature, is saying much for +it.</p> + +<p>—Why Miss Thacher should call a little book, which contains a little +collection of little sketches, "Seashore and Prairie," we do not see. It +is rather a big and an affected name for such a slight thing. But it is +bright and pleasant, and well suited to the needs of those who cannot +fix their attention long upon any subject. We regret to see in it marks +of that extravagance and affectation in the use of language which are +such common blemishes of style in our ephemeral literature. For example: +a very sensible and much needed plea for the preservation of birds, is +called "The Massacre of the Innocents;" and we are told that "a St. +Bartholomew of birds has been <i>inaugurated</i>." Miss Thacher should leave +this style of writing to the newspaper reporters.</p> + +<p>—The large circle of readers who are interested in Palestine, and the +lands and waters round about it, will find Mr. Warner's last book of +travel<a name="FNanchor_N_14" id="FNanchor_N_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_14" class="fnanchor">[N]</a> very pleasant reading—full of information and suggestion. He +observes closely, describes nature with a true feeling for her beauties, +and men with spirit and a fine apprehension of their peculiarities. He +is not very reverent, and breaks some idols which have been worshipped. +He is not an admirer of the Hebrews, or of anything that is theirs, +except their literature. His style is lively and agreeable, but we +cannot call it either elegant or correct. He tells some "traveller's +stories;" for instance, one about catching <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>an eagle's feather on +horseback (pp. 103, 104). True he "has the feather to show;" but on the +whole he makes not too many overdrafts upon the credulity of his +readers, and does not color much too highly.</p> + +<p>—In his latest tale<a name="FNanchor_O_15" id="FNanchor_O_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_O_15" class="fnanchor">[O]</a> Mr. Yates introduces American characters, +following what seems to be the prevailing fashion among English authors, +especially those who are not of the first rank. Mr. Yates manages his +foreign scenes and characters with good judgment, but his Americans we +should not recognize as such without his introduction. The scene of the +story is in England. Sir Frederick Randall, a dissolute young nobleman, +is condemned to imprisonment, under an assumed name, for forgery. Making +his escape, he woos a beautiful and innocent American girl, the daughter +of a petroleum millionaire from Oil City. As he is already married, it +is necessary to dispose of one wife before he takes another. This he +does by throwing madam over a cliff by the seashore. Caught by +projecting bushes, she is, without his knowledge, rescued alive by some +Americans, who are yachting off the coast. One of these Americans has +long loved Minnie Adams, the pretty American girl, but she and her +parents are fascinated by Sir Frederick's title and the expected +introduction to high-class English society. Minnie marries the would-be +murderer, and after a year of trouble and brutal treatment, severe +sickness ensues, during which she is nursed by her husband's first and +only legal wife. Finally Sir Frederick is murdered by an old comrade of +his debaucheries, and the two wives are equitably distributed between +the two American gentlemen.</p> + +<p>—Messrs. Hurd & Houghton are doing good service in reissuing the +Riverside edition of the Waverley Novels.<a name="FNanchor_P_16" id="FNanchor_P_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_P_16" class="fnanchor">[P]</a> The well-chosen proportion +of page and type and the excellent work of the Riverside press have +combined to make these volumes, what American books are too apt not to +be—a thing of permanent beauty. The publishers intend to bring out the +edition quite rapidly. Five volumes are ready, and the others will +follow at the rate of one each month. The present is the great era of +mediocre men. A horde of novel writers gain their living successfully +enough, and we take them up and talk about what they are doing, and how +their works compare with each other, as if their doings had real +importance. But what are they to the enduring genius of Abbotsford? He +has not only proved an inexhaustible source of delight to two +generations of readers, but has founded an industry—the publication of +his works—which is likely to be for scores of years to come a permanent +source of livelihood to hundreds.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It is evident that we have not a new light of poetry in Mr. Voldo.<a name="FNanchor_Q_17" id="FNanchor_Q_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_Q_17" class="fnanchor">[Q]</a> He +tells us that this is a first attempt, and it may well be the last, for +he seems to have been led—and misled—into the practice of poetic +expression by a certain gift, in his case fatal, of rhythm. The flow of +his lines is far superior to the meaning or the expression. In fact the +latter is so involved and farfetched, that the former is often entirely +obscured. To find out what it is he tries to tell us would really be a +painful process, and the few attempts we have made were too immediately +fatiguing to produce any results. Two of his poems are worth reading, +one because its versification is well managed, and the other because its +story is simple and naturally told. It is a relief after so many pages +of overstraining at words, and it shows that Mr. Voldo can be really +pleasant, if he will only be simple. Well, two out of fifty is above the +average!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It is only two years since a prominent American geologist wrote to a +foreign scientific paper that he had been on the point of sending to +Germany for two or three men to assist him in an important State +survey.<a name="FNanchor_R_18" id="FNanchor_R_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_R_18" class="fnanchor">[R]</a> His reason for this determination was that our country did +not possess men competent to find and follow up intelligently the +different strata; except those who were already engaged on other +surveys. Luckily this discreditable act was prevented by the sudden +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>abandonment of one of these other surveys, which released assistants +enough to satisfy this extremely difficult gentleman. The truth is that, +by some means, geological science has been pushed in this country with +great vigor and with grand results. Within the last ten years there has +been a revival of energy in that particular science which recalls the +golden days of Hugh Miller, Murchison, Agassiz, and Lyell. The time when +the very exacting gentleman, above alluded to, could not find helpers on +this side of the Atlantic, was the middle point around which were +grouped the surveys of Newberry and Andrews in Ohio, Clarence King in +Nevada, Whitney in California, Wheeler and Powell south of the Pacific +Railroad, and Hayden north of that line. Michigan was just finishing a +partial, but extremely productive, survey of her mineral regions. +Missouri had plunged hopefully into another. Pennsylvania was planning +the comprehensive work in which Leslie and his aids are now engaged. +Indiana, New Jersey, and other States had taken the great steps so much +desired by the initiated all over the world, and had made the geologist +a standing member of their government. All this had been done without +the <i>necessary</i> importation of a foreigner. One or two foreigners had +obtained employment on these surveys, but only because they came here +and sought the work. Nearly every one of the young men who performed the +work of assistants was an American. It is safe to say that in this +revival of geological work from twenty to fifty young Americans have +learned to be scientific men. As to the results of their activity, it is +sufficient to read a report like that of Mr. Powell, to find how rapidly +they are adding to our knowledge of the earth's history, and even +altering the canons of scientific belief. Mr. Powell tells us that in +his first expedition, eight years ago, and for three years after that, +he tried hard to find in the west the equivalents of the State epochs +and periods so well known as the basis of geological nomenclature, and +nearly all taken from the exposures in New York and other Eastern and +Southeastern States. It was not until this attempt was abandoned that he +began to make progress. He had to study the western regions by +themselves, and leave correspondences to the future. That was the +experience of all the workers in the west, and it brings plainly to view +the great fact, of which not all, even of our best known geologists, are +yet fully persuaded, that the geological record, though doubtless a +unit, is not uniform over the whole country. These shackles thrown off, +the geology of the west leaped up with a vigor which is astonishing. It +seemed to be pretty evident, from Prof. Huxley's lectures here, that he +had not before imagined what results had been obtained in America. This +is not surprising. Few foreigners are able to keep along with the work +performed in this country, where there is such a direful supposed lack +of workers! It is a fact that at present there is no part of the world +where the discoveries made in this science are of so general importance +as here. The Rocky mountains owe their name "to great and widely spread +aridity," the mountains being "scantily clothed with vegetation and the +indurated lithologic formations rarely masked with soils." But there are +many systems of uplifts in this region, and Mr. Powell distinguishes +three in the field covered by his report. They are the Park mountains +("the lofty mountains that stand as walls about the great parks of +Southern Wyoming, Colorado, and Northern New Mexico"); the Basin Range +system (named by Gilbert from the fact that many of them surround basins +that have no drainage to the sea); and the Plateau Province. It is worth +remarking that in the west the geologist precedes or accompanies the +topographer, and accordingly has an opportunity to name the regions +according to real peculiarities rather than chance suggestions. The +future map will be significant of the past history as well as of the +ocular features of the landscape. Mr. Powell gives careful sections of +the strata in the Plateau Province, where they are about 46,000 feet +thick. Few persons imagine the vast amount of work, exploration, and +comparison which such drawings embody. The beds form a series of groups +unlike those of the New York geologists, but the great geologic ages are +as well defined as elsewhere. The synchronism remains to be fully +established by palæontological proofs. He thinks he has been able to fix +upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> true point of division between the Mesozoic and Cenozoic ages, +and to prove that coal was deposited through about 7,000 feet of +Cretaceous and about 4,500 feet of Cenozoic beds. Mr. Powell's literary +style is excellent—not involved, but clear and energetic. He was wise +to abandon the idea of publishing an itinerary, which would, as he says, +"encumber geological literature with a mass of undigested facts of +little value." Geology has enough of such meaningless reports. As it is, +we follow him with confidence, and he gives us a story that is plain and +comprehensible.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The publications of the Massachusetts Board of Health<a name="FNanchor_S_19" id="FNanchor_S_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_S_19" class="fnanchor">[S]</a> have been of a +superior character, and have given that organization decided prominence +among similar American boards. The question of how to prevent river +pollution in their State they think can best be solved by placing +advisory power in the hands of some Government officer, upon whose +conclusions legislative action for each case should be based. This +officer would be paid by the parties in interest. Good results are to be +obtained only by comparing and altering when necessary what is done. In +this country too little is known about this subject, and the appointment +of an official "with power" is the first step toward knowledge. The +suggestions made as to the way to deal with sewage are also mostly good, +but it is doubtful whether general purification can wisely be enforced +in the present state of sanitary science. If there are any very bad +cases of pollution, they may properly be provided for in the way +suggested, and experience gained from them. The lack of experience here +is partially corrected by studying the work accomplished abroad; but a +rapid review of such work can never replace the slower results of +individual experience. The report of Mr. Kirkwood, the engineer, adds to +the abundant testimony we already have of the efficacy and power of +Nature's quietest work. Analyses show that the water of Charles river +above the Newton lower falls is, when filtered, fit, though barely fit, +to drink, and yet it has received the refuse of forty-two mills and +factories, with a population of 14,000 persons known to be sewering +into the river, and a population in the basin of three times that +number. The river has a dry-weather flow of only twenty million gallons +in twenty-four hours. On the general subject of sewage utilization the +secretary concludes that in this country the sewage has no value, but +can in some places, at least, be utilized without loss. In the death +rate of Massachusetts towns the village of Canton (4,192 population) +carries the palm, with only 11.9 deaths per thousand. Holyoke, 56.5 per +thousand, has the highest.</p> + +<p>—The report that a city is to be built in England on strict sanitary +principles, in which man may, if he will, live to a hundred and fifty +years of age, will give additional interest to this address<a name="FNanchor_T_20" id="FNanchor_T_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_T_20" class="fnanchor">[T]</a> in which +Dr. Richardson develops the project. The address was delivered a year +ago, when the Doctor was president of the Health Department of the +Social Science Association. It deserves attention because it indicates, +pretty nearly, the goal toward which all the conscious and unconscious +improvement in our living for centuries has tended. Whether man can +obtain such control over the duration of his life depends very largely +upon whether he finds himself able to submit to the discipline and +self-abnegation without which the mechanical improvements made will have +only partial success. Perfect living is not merely a thing of +appliances. These are necessary, but the subjection of the will to the +requirements of orderly conduct is equally necessary. However, Dr. +Richardson says that "Utopia is but another word for time," and it is +certain that his ideal of public and private life will be at least +approached by the slow progress of small improvements. Some people have +objected that they don't want to live a century and a half, and that a +city where men two hundred years of age might occasionally be seen +walking about is just the place they would most carefully avoid. But we +can none of us escape our fate. If society is progressing toward that +end, let us accept it, and even allow the men of science to hurry up +matters a century or two. It is, perhaps, significant that this change +in man's estate <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>comes just at the time when a reduction in the rate of +interest is taking place, and it seems likely that a man will have to +live to a hundred years in order to accumulate enough to buy him a +house. When he has it, he will need another half century to enjoy it. At +all events read this ideal, extraordinary, and learned exposition of the +health of the future.</p> + +<p>—The idea of collecting in one volume a concise statement of modern +theories of the mode in which we receive impressions is excellent, and +it has been well carried out by Prof. Bernstein.<a name="FNanchor_U_21" id="FNanchor_U_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_U_21" class="fnanchor">[U]</a> Touch, sight, +hearing, smell, and taste are treated from an anatomical and +experimental point of view, and the researches of Helmholtz, Weber, and +the numerous band of investigators who have in late years devised so +many ingenious modes of testing the operation of these senses are well +represented. The book contains probably as much exact and accurate +information, and as thorough a treatment of the subject, as can be +contained in a volume of this size. It is an advanced treatise that +places the reader in possession of the latest theories on these occult +subjects. Of necessity it is not new; but this treatment and the facts +here given will be found novel by most readers.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_K_11" id="Footnote_K_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_11"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> "<i>A Point of Honor.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Annie Edwards.</span> 16mo, pp. 325. +New York: Sheldon & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_L_12" id="Footnote_L_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_12"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> "<i>The Barton Experiment.</i>" By the author of "Helen's +Babies." New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_M_13" id="Footnote_M_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_13"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> "<i>Boys of Other Countries.</i> Stories for American Boys." By +<span class="smcap">Bayard Taylor</span>. 12mo, pp. 164. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_N_14" id="Footnote_N_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_14"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> "<i>In the Levant.</i>" By <span class="smcap">C. D. Warner</span>. 12mo, pp. 374. Boston: +J. R. Osgood & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_O_15" id="Footnote_O_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_O_15"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> "<i>Going to the Bad.</i> A Novel." By <span class="smcap">Edmund Yates.</span> Boston: +William F. Gill & Co. 75 cts.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_P_16" id="Footnote_P_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_P_16"><span class="label">[P]</span></a> "<i>Waverley Novels.</i>" Riverside Edition. "Waverley," "Guy +Mannering," "Rob Roy," "The Antiquary." New York: Hurd & Houghton. $3.50 +per volume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Q_17" id="Footnote_Q_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Q_17"><span class="label">[Q]</span></a> "<i>A Song of America, and Minor Lyrics.</i>" By <span class="smcap">V. Voldo</span>. New +York: Hanscom & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_R_18" id="Footnote_R_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_R_18"><span class="label">[R]</span></a> "<i>Report on the Geology of the Eastern Portion of the Unita +Mountains and Adjacent Country.</i>" With Atlas. By <span class="smcap">J. W. Powell</span>. +Washington: Department of the Interior.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_S_19" id="Footnote_S_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_S_19"><span class="label">[S]</span></a> "<i>Seventh Annual Report of the State Board of Health of +Massachusetts.</i>" Boston: Wright & Potter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_T_20" id="Footnote_T_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_T_20"><span class="label">[T]</span></a> "<i>Hygeia</i>: A City of Health." By <span class="smcap">Benjamin Ward Richardson.</span> +MacMillan & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_U_21" id="Footnote_U_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_U_21"><span class="label">[U]</span></a> "<i>The Five Senses of Man.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Julius Bernstein.</span> +Illustrated. New York: D. Appleton & Co. (International Scientific +Series.)</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOKS_RECEIVED" id="BOOKS_RECEIVED"></a>BOOKS RECEIVED.</h2> + + +<p>"<i>Outlines of Lectures on the History of Philosophy.</i>" By <span class="smcap">J. J. +Elmendorf</span>, L.L. D. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York.</p> + +<p>"<i>Modern Materialism; its Attitude Toward Theology.</i>" By <span class="smcap">J. Martineau</span>, +L.L. D. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>A Child's Book of Religion.</i>" By <span class="smcap">O. B. Frothingham</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>An Alphabet in Finance.</i>" By <span class="smcap">G. McAdam</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Roddy's Ideal.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Helen K. Johnson</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>History of French Literature.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Henri Van Laren</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Lectures on the History of Preaching.</i>" By <span class="smcap">J. A. Broadus</span>, D. D., LL. +D. Sheldon & Co., New York.</p> + +<p>"<i>Why Four Gospels?</i>" By Rev. <span class="smcap">D. D. Gregory</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Rules for Conducting Business in Deliberative Assemblies.</i>" By <span class="smcap">P. H. +Mell</span>, D.D., LL.D. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>A Young Man's Difficulties with His Bible.</i>" By <span class="smcap">D. W. Faunce</span>, D.D. The +same.</p> + +<p>"<i>A Vocabulary of English Rhymes.</i>" By Rev. <span class="smcap">S. W. Barnum</span>. D. Appleton & +Co., New York.</p> + +<p>"<i>The Carlyle Anthology.</i>" By <span class="smcap">E. Barrett</span>. H. Holt & Co., New York.</p> + +<p>"<i>Our Mutual Friend.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Charles Dickens</span>. Condensed by R. Johnson. The +same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Life and Times of William Samuel Johnston, LL.D.</i>" By <span class="smcap">E. E. Beardsley</span>, +D.D., LL.D. Hurd & Houghton, New York.</p> + +<p>"<i>Washington.</i> A Drama in Five Acts." By <span class="smcap">Martin F. Tupper</span>. J. Miller, +New York.</p> + +<p>"<i>Castle Windows.</i>" By <span class="smcap">L. C. Strong</span>. H. B. Nims & Co., Troy, N. Y.</p> + +<p>"<i>That New World</i>, and Other Poems." By Mrs. <span class="smcap">S. M. B. Piatt</span>. J. R. +Osgood & Co., Boston.</p> + +<p>"<i>Light on the Clouds</i>; or, Hints of Comfort for Hours of Sorrow." By <span class="smcap">M. +J. Savage</span>. Lockwood, Brooks & Co., Boston.</p> + +<p>"<i>In the Sky Garden.</i>" By <span class="smcap">L. W. Champney</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>The Religion of Evolution.</i>" By <span class="smcap">M. J. Savage</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Student Life at Harvard.</i>" The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Long Ago.</i> (A year of Child life)." By <span class="smcap">Ellis Gray</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>The Young Trail Hunters</i>; or, The Wild Riders of the Plains." By <span class="smcap">S. W. +Cozzens</span>. Lee & Sheppard, Boston.</p> + +<p>"<i>Vine and Olive</i>; or, Young America in Spain and Portugal." By <span class="smcap">W. T. +Adams</span> (Oliver Optic). The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>The National Ode.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Bayard Taylor</span>. W. F. Gill & Co., Boston.</p> + +<p>"<i>Hold the Fort.</i>" By <span class="smcap">P. P. Bliss</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>The Poetical and Prose Writings of Charles Sprague.</i>" A. Williams & +Co., Boston.</p> + +<p>"<i>Corinne</i>; or, Italy. A Love Story." By <span class="smcap">Mme. De Stael</span>. T. B. Peterson & +Bro., Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>"<i>Frank Nelson in the Forecastle</i>; or, The Sportsman's Club among the +Whalers." By <span class="smcap">Harry Castlemon</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Fridthjof's Saga.</i> A Norse Romance." By <span class="smcap">E. Fegner</span>, Bishop of Mexico. +S. C. Griggs & Co., Chicago.</p> + +<p>"<i>Viking Tales of the North.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Anderson</span>. The same.</p> + +<p>"<i>Michigan Board of Agriculture.</i> 1875." Lansing, Mich.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="NEBULAE" id="NEBULAE"></a>NEBULÆ.</h2> + + +<p>—During the progress of the canvass for the Presidential election—in +our September number—we made a promise which seemed about the safest +that could be made, but which proved to be a rash one—so rash that at +this moment we are entirely unable to redeem it—as unable as if we had +undertaken to say which exhibitor at the Philadelphia Exhibition would +not get a medal. We said that we would give our readers accurate +information, in our December number, as to which party was likely to +carry the day. What may happen before these words are printed and laid +before our readers we cannot tell; and the experience of the past few +weeks has taught us caution as to prediction and promise, even upon +apparent certainty; but although the election is more than a month past, +<i>we</i> do not know who is to be President, and no one is wiser on this +subject than we are. The matter is not one to be treated lightly. It is +of the gravest possible importance. No consequence of our civil war is +more serious or more deplorable than that condition of the former slave +States, which has caused this prolonged uncertainty with regard to the +result of the election, and that political state of the whole country +which has made this uncertainty the occasion of such intense and +embittered feeling, and such desperate measures by the managers of both +the great political parties. In fact, the war of secession is not at an +end. Twelve years have passed since the military forces of the seceders +surrendered to those of the Government, but the contest, or one arising +from it, prolongs itself into the present, when those are men who, when +the war broke out, were too young to understand its causes. And at the +same time we are suffering, in our prostrate trade and almost +extinguished commerce, another grievous consequence of the same dire +internecine struggle. Truly ourselves and our institutions are sorely +tried. A like combination of disastrous circumstances would bring about +a revolution in any other country. If we go through this trial safely, +we may not only feel thankful, but take some reasonable pride in the +national character and in the political institutions that will bear such +a long and severe strain without breaking. And yet we all have faith +that we shall endure it and come out in the end more stable and more +prosperous than ever.</p> + + +<p>—The cause of this trouble is a change in the political substance and +the political habits of the country, of which the average citizen seems +to have little knowledge and of which he takes less thought. We do not +refer to the change of the functions of the Electoral College from those +of a real electing body to those of a mere recorder of the votes of the +people of the several States, which has been much remarked upon of late +years. That change took place very early; and thus far it has been +productive of no trouble or even of inconvenience. If that were all, +there would be little need of any modification of our system of electing +the President. But there has been of later years—say within the last +half century—a change from the political condition of the country to +which the Electoral College was adapted. We are in the habit, in +patriotic moments, of lauding the wisdom and the foresight of the +fathers of the republic. And they were wise, and good, and patriotic +men; but as to their foresight, it would seem that we are to-day a +living witness that they were quite incapable of seeing into the +political future. We are now demanding that the Electoral College shall +be abolished, and the President be elected by a direct popular vote; and +yet nothing is surer than that the distinct purpose of the founders of +our Federal Union was to prevent such an election. Their design was to +establish, not a democratic government, working more or less by +mass-meeting—a direct vote of the mass of the citizens—but a +representative republican government, in which the people should commit +their affairs to their representatives, who should have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> full power to +manage them according to their discretion, entirely irrespective of the +dictation of their constituents, although not without respect for their +opinions and wishes. The doctrine of instruction, by which the +representative is turned into a mere delegate—a sort of political +attorney—is new and is entirely at variance with the design of the +founders of the republic, to which, of course, the Constitution was +adapted. It was supposed, assumed as a matter of course, by them that +there would always be a body of men of high character and intelligence, +who would have sufficient leisure to perform the functions of +legislators, governors, and other officers, for a small compensation, +and that the people at large would freely commit their affairs to these +gentlemen, choosing, of course, those whose general political views were +most in accordance with their own. So it was at the time of the war of +Independence, and at that of the formation of the Constitution. Of such +a political conception the Electoral College was a legitimate product. +The "Fathers" didn't <i>mean</i> that the people should decide between the +merits of the candidates for the Presidency. They thought—and shall we +therefore decry their wisdom?—that a small body of intelligent and well +educated men, men of character and social position, accustomed to the +study of public affairs, was better fitted to choose such an officer as +the President of the United States than the whole mass of the people. +Moreover, the people themselves have changed, and have become in +substance and in condition something that the "Fathers" did not dream +of. States in which the vote of the mass of the citizens should be in +the hands of negroes or of emigrants from the peasant class of Europe +were not among the political conditions for which their foresight +provided.</p> + + +<p>—The great controlling fact in our politics is this one, so little +regarded not only by the general public, but by men in active political +life—the thorough change which has taken place in our society and in +the attitude of the people toward the Government. As a consequence of +this change, political power has passed almost entirely out of the hands +of the class of men to whom the framers of our Constitution intended to +commit the administration of the Government which they called into +being. It has fallen into those of men generally much inferior in +cultivation and in position. And as we have already said, the very +substance of the political constituency has changed. A suffrage +practically universal and a controlling vote in one part of the country +of emancipated negro slaves and in the other of uneducated foreign +emigrants was not the political power to which Franklin, and Jefferson, +and Hamilton and Adams, and their co-workers, supposed they were +required to adapt their frame of government. And now no small part of +our difficulty arises from the failure of a very large portion of our +people, North as well as South, to perceive or at least fully to +appreciate this change and its inevitable consequences. It is agreed by +all students of political history, that the weakness of a written +constitution lies in its inflexibility; and the error of many of our +political managers lies in their failure to appreciate this truth and +their assumption that the country is to be governed now just as it was +in the days of Washington. But the fact is that such a condition of +political affairs as now exists in South Carolina and in Louisiana would +have been not only morally but physically impossible in the earlier +years of the republic. "The people" in those States, and to a certain +extent in all the States, but chiefly at the South, has not the same +meaning that it had three-quarters of a century ago. Over the whole +country the conditions of our political problem have changed; but most +of all there; and the result is a strain upon our political +institutions, and even upon our social institutions, which taxes their +stability to the utmost. The present crisis is only inferior in its +gravity to that which preceded the attempted secession; and now as then +South Carolina takes the lead. But serious as the peril is, we shall +pass through it safely. We did not emerge safely from the greater +danger, to be overwhelmed by the less. Wisdom and firmness in the +highest degree are demanded by the emergency; but wisdom and firmness +will control it, and whatever measures may become necessary we may be +sure that they will be fraught with no peril to our liberties, or to +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> stability of our Government. The nervous apprehension exhibited by +some people that any grave political disturbance and consequent +manifestation of power on the part of the central Government is likely +to end in a usurpation, and an enslavement of the American people, may +be surely characterized, if not as weak, at least as unwarranted. Think +of it coolly for a moment, and see how absurd it is. Any man born and +bred in the United States ought to be ashamed to entertain such a notion +for a moment. If we look back through the long and weary years of our +civil war, we shall find that mistakes were made on the side of the +arbitrary exercise of power, from which a few individuals suffered; but +indefensible as some of these were, according to the strict letter of +the law, we can now see their real harmlessness to the public as clearly +as we see the error of those who committed them. At no time have our +liberties been in less peril than when the President of the United +States had under his absolute command an army larger than that ever +actually controlled by any monarch (fables and exaggerations allowed +for), and when the warrant of the Secretary of War would have lodged any +man in a Federal fortress. We see now the folly of the vaticinations +against the endurance of our liberty which were uttered by many foreign +wiseacres and some weak-kneed natives. Whatever may come of our present +trouble, let us not forget the lessons of our recent experience. In +spite of any bugaboo we shall remain a Federal republic and a free +people.</p> + + +<p>—One accompaniment of the singular result of the election has been +sufficiently ridiculous—the daily reports of "the situation" as they +appeared in the columns and at the doors of the Republican and +Democratic newspapers. The phrase "to lie like a bulletin" has been +justified to the fullest extent. On which side lay the deviation from +truth it was impossible to say; but if one respectable journal's +assertions were true, the others surely were false. It was strange and +laughable to read on one bulletin board, "Republican Victory! Election +of Hayes! South Carolina and Florida ours by large majorities!" and then +to find only a few yards off a no less flaming announcement of +"Democratic Triumph! Tilden elected! South Carolina and Florida give +decided Democratic majorities!" And this was not only ridiculous, but +somewhat incomprehensible. For the newspapers which made these flatly +contradictory announcements at the same time and within short distances, +all equally prided themselves on their reputation as purveyors of +news—news that could be relied upon. Moreover, their means of obtaining +news are pretty well known to the public and quite well to each other. +True the "reliable gentleman," and the "distinguished member of +Congress," figured somewhat largely as the sources of those very +discrepant statements; and those persons are notoriously untrustworthy; +even more so than the "intelligent contraband" of the war times. But +after all it was a puzzle—unless, indeed, upon the assumption that +these newspapers published each of them, not what they knew to be the +fact, but what they thought their readers would like to be told; a +theory not to be entertained for a moment. Nevertheless the facts as +they presented themselves did seem to be worthy of some candid +consideration by the journalistic mind; for to mere outsiders they +seemed to point to the prudence and safety, to say the least, of more +caution and reserve of assertion, with the certainty that the +introduction of these new elements into the news department of +journalism would tend to the elevation of the profession, and would +beget a confidence in that department of our leading journals which it +may perhaps be safely said does not exist in a very high degree at +present. Possibly, however, the question may have presented itself in +this form to the journalistic mind: "If we continue to announce victory +for our own party, and it so turns out in the end, we are all right, and +we shall have pleased our readers." If the contrary, we shall merely +have to denounce the frauds of our opponents which have falsified the +truth that we told, and we shall have pleased our readers all the same." +Ingenious gentlemen.</p> + + +<p>—Among the humors of the election is one so significant that it should +not be allowed to pass by unrecorded. One<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> Irish "American" was +describing to another the glories of a procession which had made night +hideous to those not particularly interested in it; and he closed the +glowing account by saying, "Oh, it wuz an illigent purrceshin intoirely! +Div'l a naygur or a Yankee int' ut!" Doubtless this gentleman would +think an election equally illigant in which neither a naygur nor a +Yankee presumed to vote.</p> + + +<p>—The period of the election excitement was marked also by the close of +the great Centennial Exhibition, which must be regarded as a very great +success, and which, we are pleased to record, proved far more successful +pecuniarily than we anticipated that it would. Among the grand +expositions of the world's industry this one stands alone, we believe, +in its possession of a surplus over and above its enormous expenses. +This, however, is but one witness to the admirable manner in which it +was managed. But even if it had failed in this respect, as at first it +seemed probable that it would, the money lost would have been well spent +in producing the impression which it left upon all, or nearly all, of +the intelligent foreigners whom it drew to Philadelphia. We happen to +have heard some of these, who had not only been present at other +exhibitions of the same kind in Europe, but had held the position of +judges there, say that the Philadelphia exhibition was superior to all +the others, not, it is true, in the beauty and value of the foreign +articles exhibited, but in the native productions and in the +arrangement, the system and discipline of the whole affair. The American +machinery and tools elicited the highest admiration from qualified +European judges. They found in them the results of a union of the +highest scientific acquirement with a corresponding excellence of +material and exactness in manufacture. All the tools used in the higher +departments of mechanics elicited this expression of admiration, and +with regard to those exhibited by two or three manufacturers the +approbation was without qualification and in the highest terms. This +result will be largely beneficial to our national reputation; for it was +just in these respects, science, thoroughness, and exactness, that our +foreign critics were prepared to find us wanting.</p> + + +<p>—The richness and variety of American slang is remarked upon by almost +all English travellers, who, however, might find at home, in the +language of high-born people, departures from purity quite as frequent +and as great as those prevalent with us, although perhaps not so gross; +for it must be confessed that most of our slang is coarse and offensive, +at least in form. But the most remarkable American peculiarity in regard +to slang, or indeed in regard to any new fangle in language, is the +quickness with which it is adopted, and comes, if not into general use, +into general knowledge. This readiness of adaptability to slang may, +however, be attributed almost entirely to the reporters and +correspondents, and "makers-up" of our newspapers, who catch eagerly at +anything new in phraseology as well as in fact, to give a temporary +interest to their ephemeral writing. Here, for example, is the word +"bulldose," the occasion of our remarks. A man who went on a journey to +South America or to Europe four months ago would have departed in the +depths of deplorable ignorance as to the very existence of this lovely +word; returning now, he would find it in full possession of the +newspapers—appearing in correspondence, in reports, in sensation +headlines, and even in leading articles. Although to the manner born, he +would be puzzled at the phraseology of the very newspaper which mingled +itself with his earliest recollections and with his breakfast; for there +he would find the new word in all possible forms and under all possible +modifications: <i>bulldose</i>, the noun, <i>to bulldose</i>, the verb, +<i>bulldosing</i>, the present participle, <i>bulldosed</i>, the past participle, +and even, to the horror of the author of "Words and their Uses," and in +spite of him, <i>being bulldosed</i>, "the continuing participle of the +passive voice." Such a phenomenon in language is peculiar to this +country. But notwithstanding the fears of the purists and the +philologers, it does not threaten the existence of the English language +here, nor is it at all likely to affect it permanently even by the +addition of one phrase or word. For our use of slang of this kind is the +most fleeting of temporary fashions. Such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> slang passes rapidly into use +and into general recognition, and passes as quickly out again. +Bartlett's "Dictionary of Americanisms" is full of words of this +kind—<i>locofoco</i>, for example—which lived their short lives, and then +passed not only out of use, but out of memory. While they are in vogue, +however, they deform our speech, and they tend to increase our habits of +looseness in language; and they bring reproach upon us such as that with +an allusion to which we began this item. For our reputation's sake we +should stop this; it subjects us with some reason to ridicule. But we +shall not stop, because the men who could stop it—the editors—will not +do so. Very few newspapers in the country—only two or three—are really +edited as to the language used in them; and as to slang of this sort, it +is regarded as something pleasant to the ears of the average reader, who +is supposed to think it funny. This is enough. If the readers want it, +the editors will furnish it; and so we may expect to be "bulldosed," or +otherwise dosed with some like nauseous mess of language, until +journalism has some other purpose than to pander to the lower cravings +of the moment.</p> + + +<p>—It is said that in the schools for girls it is now becoming the +fashion to teach the large angular handwriting which is commonly used by +Englishwomen. The announcement is welcome and surprising in one respect; +for it implies that writing is taught in schools, as to which an +acquaintance with the chirography of the rising generation justly +awakens some doubts. But as to the beneficial result of the adoption of +the style in question, that is a matter of some uncertainty. This +angular English hand is very elegant and lovely to look upon in a little +note, particularly if it assures you of the fair writer's high regard, +or asks you to dinner. But in fact it is so uncertain in its forms that +sometimes it is quite difficult to tell which is meant, the high regard +or the dinner. We have heard of one case of deplorable uncertainty. A +lady going out of town hastily on a short visit left a key upon her +husband's table with a slip of paper on which was written in the new +style a few words which after much toil and with the hint from the key, +he deciphered and read as "Key of wine closet. Please put on gin-sling." +He was amazed; for whatever his fondness might have been for gin-sling, +it was not his habit to put it on the table. Wherefore he inferred that +instead of "gin-sling" he should read "green seal," but there was none +of that brand of champagne in the wine closet. Further investigation led +him to adopt the reading, "please put on full swing." This, however, he +abandoned as not exactly a feminine exhortation in that particular +matter. Then for "gin-sling" he read "gunning," and "gun sing," and +"grinning," all of course to be abandoned in their turn. Submitted to an +expert, the elegant lines were pronounced to be unmistakably, "Key of +wine closet. Recase pat on gnu eing," not a highly intelligible letter +of instruction. Finally, in his perplexity, he remembered something that +the lady had once said upon the subject of the danger of leaving the +particular key in question lying about loose or even in an accessible +drawer, and then it flashed upon him that the writing was, or was meant +to be, "Key of wine closet. Please put on your ring." Hence it appears +that the elegant English hand is very easily read when you know what the +fair writer means to say. Observe, too, that the perplexity would have +been obviated by the introduction of a much needed pronoun—<i>it</i>. If the +lady had written, "Put it," etc., there would have been a guide out of +the labyrinth. No small part of the obscurity found in writing arises +from compression. It is better to take the trouble to write two words, +and thereby be understood, than to write one, in angular Anglican +elegance, and leave your reader in darkness.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY *** + +***** This file should be named 30415-h.htm or 30415-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/4/1/30415/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Carla Foust, Bill Tozier and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.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: The Galaxy + Vol. 23, No. 1 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 7, 2009 [EBook #30415] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Carla Foust, Bill Tozier and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +Transcriber's note + + +All apparent printer's errors have been retained. + +In this version the superscript is indicated by ^. + + + + + THE GALAXY. + + A MAGAZINE OF ENTERTAINING READING. + + VOL. XXIII. + + JANUARY, 1877, TO JUNE, 1877. + + NEW YORK: Sheldon & Company, + + 1877. + + + + + Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by + SHELDON & COMPANY, + in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. + + + Typography of CHURCHWELL & TEALL. Electrotyped by SMITH & MCDOUGAL. + + + + +INDEX TO VOLUME XXIII. + + + PAGE. + + Administration of Abraham Lincoln _Gideon Welles_ 5, 149 + + Almanacs, Some Old _Charles Wyllys Elliott_ 24 + + Alnaschar. 1876 _Bret Harte_ 217 + + Alfred de Musset _Henry James, Jr._ 790 + + Applied Science _Charles Barnard_ 79, 160 + + Art's Limitations _Margaret J. Preston_ 159 + + Assja _Ivan Tourgueneff_ 368 + + Aut Diabolus aut Nihil 218 + + Ballad of Constance _William Winter_ 109 + + Balzac, Letters of _Henry James, Jr._ 183 + + Battalion, The _J. W. De Forest_ 817 + + Beer _S. G. Young_ 62 + + Beethoven, To _Sidney Lanier_ 394 + + Cigarettes 471 + + Cleopatra's Soliloquy _Mary Bayard Clarke_ 506 + + Climbing Rose, The 596 + + Cossacks, An Evening Party with the _David Ker_ 406 + + Dead Star, The _John James Piatt_ 660 + + Dead Vashti, A _Louise Stockton_ 428 + + Defeated _Mary L. Ritter_ 354 + + Dramatic Canons, The _Frederick Whittaker_ 396, 508 + + DRIFT-WOOD _Philip Quilibet_ 125, 265, + 411, 553, + 695, 842 + + The Twelve-Month Sermon; Ribbons and Coronets at Market Rates; The + Spinning of Literature; Growth of American Taste for Art; The Wills + of the Triumvirate; The Duel and the Newspapers; The Industry of + Interviewers; Talk about Novels; Primogeniture and Public Bequests; + The Times and the Customs; Victor Hugo; Evolutionary Hints for + Novelists; The Travellers; Swindlers and Dupes; Pegasus in Harness. + + Eastern Question, The _A. H. Guernsey_ 359 + + English Peerage, The _E. C. Grenville Murray_ 293 + + English Traits _Richard Grant White_ 520 + + English Women _Richard Grant White_ 675 + + Executive Patronage and Civil + Service Reform _J. L. M. Curry_ 826 + + Fascinations of Angling, The _George Dawson_ 818 + + Fallen Among Thieves 809 + + Great Seal of the United States _John D. Champlin, Jr._ 691 + + Hard Times _Charles Wyllys Elliott_ 474 + + Head of Hercules, The _James M. Floyd_ 52 + + Heartbreak Cameo _Lizzie W. Champney_ 111 + + Home of My Heart _F. W. Bourdillon_ 543 + + Influences _Charles Carroll_ 124 + + Juliet on the Balcony _Howard Glyndon_ 42 + + Lassie's Complaint, The _James Kennedy_ 367 + + Libraries, Public in the United + States _John A. Church_ 639 + + Life Insurance 686, 803 + + LITERATURE, CURRENT 137, 279, + 425, 567, + 708, 855 + + Love's Messengers _Mary Ainge De Vere_ 51 + + Love's Requiem _William Winter_ 182 + + Lucille's Letter 23 + + Madcap Violet. Chapters XLIV. to + End _William Black_ 30 + + Margary, The Murder of _Walter A. Burlingame_ 175 + + Miss Misanthrope. Chapters I. to + XX. _Justin McCarthy_ 244, 302, + 450, 597, + 746 + + Miss Tinsel _Henry Sedley_ 337 + + Mohegan-Hudson _James Manning Winchell_ 637 + + Monsieur Delille _T. S. Fay_ 119 + + National Bank Notes, How Redeemed _Frank W. Lautz_ 647 + + NEBULAE _By The Editor_ 144, 288, + 431, 576, + 720, 864 + + Normandy and Pyrenees _Henry James, Jr._ 95 + + On Being Born Away from Home _Titus Munson Coan_ 533 + + Our Rural Divinity _John Burroughs_ 43 + + Philter, The _Mary B. Dodge_ 242 + + Portrait D'une Jeune Femme + Inconnue _M. E. W. S._ 336 + + Progressive Baby, A _S. F. Hopkins_ 81, 727 + + Punished, The _Ella Wheeler_ 789 + + Pythia, The Modern _S. B. Luce_ 209 + + Renunciation _Kate Hillard_ 358 + + Reflected Light _Mary Ainge De Vere_ 802 + + Romance _J. W. De Forest_ 61 + + Roman Picture, A _Mary Lowe Dickinson_ 674 + + Saint Lambert's Coal _Margaret J. Preston_ 519 + + SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY _Prof. John A. + Church_ 129, 269, + 415, 558, + 699, 846 + + Complications of the Channel Tunnel; A Town of Dwarfs; Whooping + Cough; British Association Notes; An English Crop; Influence of + White Colors; An Involved Accident; An Old Aqueduct System; + Galvanism Cannot Restore Exhausted Vitality; Curious Optical + Experiments; Ice Machines; American Antiquities; Protection from + Lightning; Steam Machinery and Privateering; Man and Animals; The + Limbs of Whales; Our Educational Standing; Surface Markings; The + Oldest Stone Tools; Origin of the Spanish People; The English + Meteorite; The Boomerang; A Western Lava Field; The Principle of + Cephalization; Curiosities of the Herring Fishery; Natural Gas in + Furnaces; South Carolina Phosphates; Rare Metals from Old Coins; A + French Mountain Weather Station; Migration of the Lemming; New + Discovery of Neolithic Remains; October Weather; French National + Antiquities; The Force of Crystallization; Frozen Nitro-Glycerine; + English Great Guns; Ear Trumpets for Pilots; Hot Water in Dressing + Ores; Ocean Echoes; The Delicacy of Chemists' Balances; Government + Control of the Dead; Microscopic Life; The Sources of Potable Water; + Theory of the Radiometer; Tempered Glass in The Household; The New + York Aquarium; The Cruelty of Hunting; The Gorilla in Confinement; + Instruction Shops In Boston; Moon Madness; The Argument against + Vaccination; The Telephone; Damages by an Insect; The Summer + Scientific Schools; An Intelligent Quarantine; The "Grasshopper + Commission"; Surveying Plans for the Season; The Causes of Violent + Death; A New Induction Coil; French Property Owners; Trigonometrical + Survey of New York; The Use of Air in Ore Dressing; Polar + Colonization; The Survey in California; A German Savant among the + Sioux; Ballooning for Air Currents; The Greatest of Rifles; Vienna + Bread; Modern Loss in Warfare; A New Treasury Rule; A Hygienic + School; Microscopic Comparison of Blood Corpuscles; The Summer + Scientific Schools; The Wages Value of Steam Power; The Negro's + Color; Scientific Items. + + Shakespeare, On Reading _Richard Grant White_ 70, 233 + + Shall Punishment Punish? _Chauncey Hickox_ 355 + + Sister St. Luke _Constance Fenimore + Woolson_ 489 + + Sounding Brass _Lizzie W. Champney_ 671 + + South, The, Her Condition and Needs _Hon. J. L. M. Curry_ 544 + + Story of a Lion _Albert Rhodes_ 196 + + Spring _H. R. H._ 841 + + Spring Longing _Emma Lazarus_ 725 + + Theatres of London _Henry James, Jr._ 661 + + Three Periods of Modern Music _Richard Grant White_ 832 + + Theatre Francais, The _Henry James, Jr._ 437 + + Tried and True _Sylvester Baxter_ 470 + + Two Worlds, The _Ellice Hopkins_ 488 + + Unknown Persons _Mary Murdoch Mason_ 657 + + "Uniformed Militia" Service, The _C. H. M._ 776 + + Walt Whitman, To _Joaquin Miller_ 29 + + Woman's Gifts, A _Mary Ainge De Vere_ 208 + + Wordsworth's Corrections _Titus Munson Coan_ 322 + + Yosemite Hermit, The _Clara G. Dolliver_ 782 + + + + +THE GALAXY. + +VOL. XXIII.--JANUARY, 1877.--No. 1. + + + + +ADMINISTRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. + + +The political differences which have generated parties in this country +date back to an early period. They existed under the old confederation, +were perceptible in the formation of the Constitution and establishment +of "a more perfect union." Differences on fundamental principles of +government led to the organization of parties which, under various +names, after the adoption of the Federal Constitution, divided the +people and influenced and often controlled national and State elections. +Neither of the parties, however, has always strictly adhered or been +true to its professed principles. Each has, under the pressure of +circumstances and to secure temporary ascendancy in the Federal or State +governments, departed from the landmarks and traditions which gave it +its distinctive character. The _Centralists_, a name which more +significantly than any other expresses the character, principles, and +tendency of those who favor centralization of power in a supreme head +that shall exercise paternal control over States and people, have under +various names constituted one party. On the other hand, the _Statists_, +under different names, have from the first been jealous of central +supremacy. They believe in local self-government, support the States in +all their reserved and ungranted rights, insist on a strict construction +of the Constitution and the limitation of Federal authority to the +powers specifically delegated in that instrument. + +The broad and deep line of demarcation between these parties has not +always been acknowledged. Innovation and change have sometimes modified +and disturbed this line; but after a period the distinctive boundary has +reappeared and antagonized the people. During the administration of Mr. +Monroe, known as the "era of good feeling," national party lines were +almost totally obliterated, and local and personal controversies took +their place. National questions were revived, however, and contested +with extreme violence during several succeeding administrations. Thirty +years later, when the issues of bank, tariff, internal improvements, and +an independent treasury were disposed of, there was as complete a break +up of parties as in the days of Monroe. It was not, however, in an "era +of good feeling" that this later dislocation of parties took place; but +an attempt was made in 1850 by leading politicians belonging to +different organizations to unite the people by a compromise or an +arrangement as unnatural as it was insincere--party lines if not +obliterated were, as the authors intended, in a measure broken down. +This compromise, as it was called, was a sacrifice of honest principles, +and instead of allaying disputes, was followed by a terrific storm of +contention and violence transcending thing the country had ever +experienced, and ended in a civil war. + +The time has not yet arrived for a calm and dispassionate review of the +acts and actors of that period and the events of the immediately +succeeding years; but the incidents that took place and the experience +so dearly purchased should not be perverted, misunderstood, or wholly +forgotten. + +The compromises of 1850, instead of adjusting differences and making the +people of one mind on political questions, actually caused in their +practical results the alienation of life-long party friends, led to new +associations among old opponents, and created organizations that partook +more of a sectional character than of honest constitutional differences +on fundamental questions relative to the powers and authority of the +Government, such as had previously divided the people. The facility with +which old political opponents came together in the compromise measures +of 1850, and abandoned principles and doctrines for which they had +battled through their whole lives, begot popular distrust. Confidence in +the sincerity of the men who so readily made sacrifices of principles +was forfeited or greatly impaired. The Whig party dwindled under it, and +as an organization shortly went out of existence. A large portion of its +members, disgusted with what they considered the insincerity if not +faithlessness of their leaders, yet unwilling to attach themselves to +the Democratic party, which had coalesced in the movement, gathered +together in a secret organization, styling themselves "Know Nothings." +Democrats in some quarters, scarcely less dissatisfied with the +compromises, joined the Know Nothing order, and in one or two annual +elections this strange combination, without avowed principles or +purpose, save that of the defeat and overthrow of politicians, who were +once their trusted favorites, was successful. In this demoralized +condition of affairs, the Democrats by the accession of Whigs in the +Southern States obtained possession of the Government and maintained +their ascendancy through the Pierce administration; and, in a contest +quite as much sectional as political, elected Buchanan in 1856. + +But these were the expiring days of the old Democratic organization, +which, under the amalgamating process of the compromise measures, became +shattered and mixed, especially in the Southern States, with former +Whigs, and was to a great extent thereafter sectionalized. The different +opposing political elements united against it and organized and +established the Republican party, which triumphed in the election of +Lincoln in 1860. The administration which followed and was inaugurated +in 1861 differed in essential particulars from either of the preceding +political organizations. Men of opposing principles--Centralists, who +like Hamilton and patriots of that class were for a strong imperial +national government, with supervising and controlling authority over the +States, on one hand, and Statists on the other, who, like Jefferson, +adhered to State individuality and favored a league or federation of +States, a national republic of limited and clearly defined powers, with +a strict observance of all the reserved right of the local +commonwealths--were brought together in the elections of 1860. It has +been represented and recorded as grave history that the Republican party +was an abolition party. Such was not the fact, although the small and +utterly powerless faction which, under the lead of William Lloyd +Garrison and others, had for years made aggressive war on slavery, was +one of the elements which united with Whigs and Democrats in the +election of Mr. Lincoln. Nor was that result a Whig triumph, though a +large portion of the Whigs in the free States, after the compromises of +1850, from natural antagonism to the Democrats, entered into the +Republican organization. While it is true that a large majority of the +Whigs of the North relinquished their old organization and became +Republicans, it is no less true that throughout the slave States, and +in many of the free States, the members of the Whig party to a +considerable extent supported Bell or Breckenridge. But Democrats +dissatisfied with the measures of the Pierce and Buchanan +administrations, in much larger numbers than is generally conceded, took +early and efficient part in the Republican organizations--some on +account of the repeal of the Missouri compromise, but a much larger +number in consequence of the efforts of the central Government at +Washington, by what was considered by them an abuse of civil trust, and +by military interference, to overpower the settlers in Kansas, denying +them the right of self-government, and an attempt arbitrarily and +surreptitiously to impose upon the inhabitants against their will a +fraudulent Constitution. It was this large contribution of free-thinking +and independent Democrats, who had the courage to throw off party +allegiance and discipline in behalf of the principles of free government +on which our republican system is founded, the right of the people to +self-government, and, consequently, the right to form and establish +their own constitution without dictation or interference from the +central government so long as they violated no provision of the organic +law, that gave tone, form, and ascendancy to the Republican party in +every free State. + +Persistent efforts have been made to establish as historical truths the +representations that the civil war had its origin in a scheme or purpose +to abolish slavery in the States where it existed, and that the election +of Abraham Lincoln was an abolition triumph--a premeditated, aggressive, +sectional war upon the South; whereas the reverse is the fact--the +Republican party in its inception was a strictly constitutional party, +that defended the rights of the people, the rights of the States, and +the rights of the Federal Government, which were assailed by a sectional +combination that was not satisfied with the Constitution as it was, but +proposed to exact new guarantees from the nation for the protection of +what they called "Southern rights"--rights unknown to the Constitution. +The misrepresentations that the Republicans were aggressive and aimed to +change the organic law have not been without their influence, +temporarily at least, in prejudicing and warping the public mind. It is +true that the slavery question was most injudiciously and unwisely +brought into the party controversies of the country; but it was done by +the slaveholders or their political representatives in Congress after +the failure of the nullifiers to obtain ascendancy in the Government on +the subject of free trade and resistance to the revenue laws. + +John C. Calhoun, a man of undoubted talents, but of unappeasable +ambition, had at an early period of his life, while Secretary of War, +and still a young man, aspired to the office of President. By his +ability and patriotic course during the war of 1812, and subsequently by +a brilliant career as a member of Mr. Monroe's Cabinet, he had acquired +fame and a certain degree of popularity which favored his pretensions, +particularly with young men and army officers. Schemes and projects of +national aggrandizement by internal improvements, protection to home +industries, large military expenditures, and measures of a centralizing +tendency which were popular in that era of no parties, gave him _eclat_ +as Secretary of War. Flattered by his attentions and by his shining +qualities, military men became his enthusiastic supporters, and received +encouragement from him in return. It was the first attempt to elect so +young a man to be Chief Magistrate, and was more personal than political +in its character. In the memorable contest for the successorship to +President Monroe, Mr. Calhoun at one time seemed to be a formidable +candidate; but his popularity being personal was evanescent, and failed +to enlist the considerate and reflecting. Even his military hopes were +soon eclipsed by General Jackson, whose bold achievements and successes +in the Indian and British wars captivated the popular mind. Jackson had +also, as a representative and Senator in Congress, Judge of the Supreme +Court of Tennessee, and Governor of Florida, great civil experience. Mr. +Calhoun was, however, in the political struggle that took place in 1824, +elected to the second office of the republic, while in the strife, +confusion, and break up of parties no one of the competing candidates +for President received a majority of the electoral votes. He and his +supporters submitted to, it may be said acquiesced in, the result then +and also in 1828, when General Jackson was elected President and Mr. +Calhoun was reelected to the office of Vice-President. This +acquiescence, however, was reluctant; but with an expectation that he +would in 1833, at the close of General Jackson's term, be the successor +of the distinguished military chieftain. + +But the arrangements of calculating politicians often end in +disappointments. Such was the misfortune of Mr. Calhoun. His ambitious +and apparently well contrived plans had most of them an abortive and +hapless termination. Observation and experience convinced him, after +leaving Mr. Monroe's Cabinet, that the educated and reflective Statists +or State rights men of the country, and especially of the South, would +never sanction or be reconciled to the exercise of power by the Federal +Government to protect the manufacturing interests of New England, or to +construct roads and canals in the West, at the expense of the National +Treasury. These were, however, favorite measures of a class of +politicians of the period who had special interests to subserve, and who +carried with them the consolidationists, or advocates of a strong and +magnificent central government. The tariff, internal improvements, and +kindred subjects became classified and known in the party politics of +that day as the "American system"--a system of high taxes and large +expenditures by the Federal Government--without specific constitutional +authority for either. Parties were arrayed on opposite sides of this +system, which, besides the political principles involved, soon partook +of a sectional character. High and oppressive duties on importations, it +was claimed, were imposed to foster certain industries in the North to +the injury of the South. + +Henry Clay, a politician and statesman of wonderful magnetic power, was +the eloquent champion of the "American system," and enlisted in his +favor the large manufacturing interest in the North and the friends of +internal improvement in the West. These measures were made national +issues, and Mr. Clay, Speaker of the House of Representatives, +appropriated them to his personal advancement, and was their recognized +leading advocate. Mr. Calhoun could not be second to his Western rival, +but abandoned the policy of protection, internal improvements, and great +national undertakings, and allied himself to the commercial and +plantation interests, which opposed the system, expecting to identify +himself with and to receive the support of the Statists. But the strict +constructionists of Virginia, Georgia, and other States of the old +Jefferson school distrusted him and withheld their confidence and +support. + +South Carolina, erratic, brilliant, and impulsive, had never fully +harmonized with the politicians of Virginia in their political +doctrines, but had been inclined to ridicule the rigid and +non-progressive principles of her statesmen, who, always cautious, were +now slow to receive into fellowship and to commit themselves to the new +convert who sought their support. They slighted him, and rejected his +nullification remedies. Instead of following the Palmetto State in her +fanatical party schemes on the alleged issue of free trade, and +supporting her "favorite son" in his theories, they sustained General +Jackson, whose Union sentiments they approved, and who, to the disgust +of Calhoun, became a candidate for reelection in 1832 and received the +votes of almost the whole South. + +In this crisis, when the heated partisans of South Carolina in their +zeal for free trade and State rights had made a step in advance of the +more staid and reflecting Statists, and undertook to abrogate and +nullify the laws of the Federal Government legally enacted, they found +themselves unsupported and in difficulty, and naturally turned to their +acknowledged leader for guidance. To contest the Federal Government, and +pioneer the way for his associates to resist and overthrow the +Administration, Mr. Calhoun resigned the office of Vice-President and +accepted that of Senator, where his active mind, fertile in resources, +could, and as he and they believed would extricate them. There was, +however, at the head of the Government in that day a stern, patriotic, +and uncompromising Chief Magistrate, who would listen to no mere +temporizing expedients when the stability of the Union was involved, and +who, while recognizing and maintaining the rights of the States, never +forgot the rights that belonged to the Federal Government. In his +extremity, when confronting this inflexible President, Mr. Calhoun +hastened to make friends with his old opponents, Clay, Webster, and the +protectionists, the advocates of the "American system," the authors and +champions of the very policy which had been made the pretext or +justification for nullification and resistance to Federal law and the +Federal authority. This coalition of hostile factions combined in a +scheme, or compromise, where each sacrificed principles to oppose the +administration of Jackson. It was an insincere and unrighteous coalition +which soon fell asunder. + +In the mean time, while nullification was hopelessly prostrate, and +before the coalition was complete, the prolific mind of the aspiring +Carolinian devised a new plan and a new system of tactics which it was +expected would sectionalize and unite the South. This new device was a +defence of slavery--a subject in which the entire South was +interested--against the impudent demands of the abolitionists. Not until +the nullifiers were defeated, and had failed to draw the South into +their nullification plan, was slavery agitation introduced into Congress +and made a sectional party question with aggressive demands for national +protection. The abolitionists were few in numbers, and of little account +in American politics. Some benevolent Quakers and uneasy fanatics, who +neither comprehended the structure of our Federal system nor cared for +the Constitution, had annually for forty years petitioned Congress to +give freedom to the slaves. But the statesmen of neither party listened +to these unconstitutional appeals until the defeated nullifiers +professed great apprehension in regard to them, and introduced the +subject as a disturbance, and made it a sensational sectional issue in +Congress and the elections. + +From the first agitation of the subject as a party question, slavery in +all its phases was made sectional and aggressive by the South. Beginning +with a denial of the right to petition for the abolition of slavery, and +with demands for new and more exacting national laws for the arrest and +rendition of fugitives, the new sectional party test was followed by +other measures; such as the unconditional admission of Texas, the +extension of slavery into all the free territory acquired from Mexico, +the repeal of the Missouri compromise, a denial to the people of Kansas +of the right to frame their own constitution, and other incidental and +irritating questions that were not legitimately within the scope of +Federal authority. Fierce contentions prevailed for years, sometimes +more violent than at others. + +In 1850 a budget of compromises, which has already been alluded to, +involving a surrender of principles and an enactment of laws that were +unwarranted by the Constitution, and offensive in other respects, had +been patched up by old Congressional party leaders, ostensibly to +reconcile conflicting views and interests, but which were superficial +remedies for a cancerous disease, and intended more to glorify the +authors than to promote the country's welfare. Both of the great parties +were committed by the managers to these compromises, but the effect upon +each was different. The Whigs, tired of constant defeat, hoped for a +change by the compromises that would give them recognition and power; +but instead of these they found themselves dwarfed and weakened, while +the Democrats, who yielded sound principles to conciliate their Southern +allies, were for a time numerically strengthened in that section by +accessions from the Whigs. Old party lines became broken, and in the +Presidential contest of 1852 the Democratic candidate, General Pierce, a +young and showy, but not profound man, was elected by an overwhelming +majority over the veteran General Scott, who was the candidate of the +Whigs. From this date the Whig organization dwindled and had but a +fragmentary existence. Thenceforward, until the overthrow of the +Democratic party, the Government at Washington tended to centralization. +Fidelity to party, and adherence to organization with little regard for +principle, were its political tests in the free States. Sectional +sentiments to sustain Southern aggressions, under the name of "Southern +rights," were inculcated, violent language, and acts that were scarcely +less so, prevailed through the South and found apologists and defenders +at the North. Presidents Pierce and Buchanan, literally "northern men +with southern principles," were submissive to these sectional +aggressions, acquiesced in the repeal of the Missouri compromise, the +extension and nationalizing of slavery, hitherto a State institution, +and also to the schemes to prevent the establishment of a free +constitution by the people of Kansas. The mass of voters opposed to the +policy of these administrations, and who constituted the Republican +party, were not entirely in accord on fundamental principles and views +of government, but had been brought into united action from the course +of events which followed the Mexican war, the acquisition of territory, +and the unfortunate compromises of 1850. The sectional strife, for the +alleged reason of Lincoln's election and Republican success, which +eventuated in hostilities in 1861, and the tremendous conflict that +succeeded and shook the foundation of the Government during the ensuing +four years, threatening the national existence, absorbed all minor +questions of a purely political party character, and made the Cabinet of +Mr. Lincoln, though its members entertained organic differences, a unit. +There were occasions when the antecedent opinions and convictions of the +members elicited discussion in regard to the powers, limitations, and +attributes of government; but in the midst of war disagreeing political +opinions as well as the laws themselves were silenced. Each and all felt +the necessity of harmonious and efficient action to preserve the Union. + +This was especially the case during the first two years of the war of +secession. Not only the President's constitutional advisers, but the +Republican members of Congress, embracing many captious, factious, and +theoretical controversialists, acted in harmony and concert. Murmurs +were heard among its friends, and dissatisfaction felt that the +Administration was not sufficiently energetic or arbitrary, and because +it did not immediately suppress the rebellion. A long period of peace +which the country had enjoyed rendered the malcontents incapable of +judging of the necessities of preparation for war. "On to Richmond" +became the cry of the impatient and restless before the armies mustered +into service were organized. The violent and impassioned appeals of +excited and mischievous speakers and writers created discontent and +clamor that could not always be appeased or successfully resisted. Not +content with honest if not always intelligent criticism of the +Government, some editors, papers, writers, and speakers, at an early +period and indeed throughout the war, condemned the policy pursued, +assumed to direct the management of affairs, and advanced crude and +absurd notions of the manner in which the Government should be +administered and military operations conducted. For a period after the +rout at Bull Run, which seemed a rebuke to these inconsiderate +partisans, there was a temporary lull of complaints and apparent +acquiescence by Republicans in the measures of administration. + +Military differences and army jealousies existed from the beginning, +which were aggravated and stimulated by partisan friends and opponents +of the rival officers, and by dissent from the policy pursued in the +conduct of military affairs to which many took exception. + +General Scott was the military oracle of the Administration in the first +days of the war. His ability and great experience entitled him to regard +and deference on all questions relating to military operations. No one +appreciated his qualities more than the President, unless it was General +Scott himself, who with great self-esteem was nevertheless not +unconscious that his age and infirmities had impaired his physical +energies, and in some respects unfitted him to be the active military +commander. It was his misfortune that he prided himself more if possible +on his civil and political knowledge and his administrative ability than +on his military skill and capacity. As a politician his opinions were +often chimerical, unstable, and of little moment; but his military +knowledge and experience were valuable. With headquarters at Washington, +and for thirty years consulted and trusted by successive administrations +of different parties in important emergencies, internal and external, +and at one time the selected candidate of one of the great political +parties for President, he had reason to feel that he was an important +personage in the republic; also that he was competent, and that it was a +duty for him to participate in political matters, and to advise in civil +affairs when there were threatened dangers. But while he was sagacious +to detect the premonitory symptoms of disturbance, and always ready to +obey and execute military orders, he was in political and civil matters +often weak, irresolute, and infirm of purpose. He had in the autumn of +1860 warned President Buchanan of danger to be apprehended from the +secession movement, and wisely suggested measures to preserve peace; but +he soon distrusted and abandoned his own suggestions. Without much +knowledge of Mr. Lincoln, and believing erroneously, as did many others, +that Mr. Seward was to be the controlling mind in the new +administration, he early put himself in communication with that +gentleman. The two agreed upon the policy of surrendering or yielding to +the States in secession the fortresses within their respective limits. +It has been said, and circumstances indicate that there was also an +understanding by Mr. Seward with certain secession leaders, that the +forts, particularly Sumter, if not attacked, should not be reinforced. +Of the plans of Mr. Seward and General Scott, and the understanding +which either of them had with the secessionists, President Lincoln was +not informed; but, while he had a sense of duty and a policy of his own, +he attentively and quietly listened to each and to all others entitled +to give their opinions. + +The reports of Major Anderson and the defence of Sumter being military +operations, the President, pursuant to Mr. Seward's advice, referred to +General Scott, and it was supposed by those gentlemen that the President +acquiesced in their conclusions. Nor were they alone in that +supposition, for the President, while cautiously feeling his way, +sounding the minds of others, and gathering information from every +quarter, wisely kept his own counsel and delayed announcing his +determination until the last moment. He was accused of being culpably +slow, when he was wisely deliberate. + +When his decision to reinforce Sumter was finally made known, the +Secretary of State and the General-in-Chief were surprised, embarrassed, +and greatly disappointed; for it was an utter negation and defeat of the +policy which they had prescribed. The General, like a good soldier, +quietly and submissively acquiesced; but Mr. Seward, a man of expedients +and some conceit, was unwilling and unprepared to surrender the first +place in the Administration, and virtually publish the fact by an +Executive mandate which upset his promised and preferred arrangements. +It was then that he became aware of two things: first, that neither +himself nor General Scott, nor both combined, were infallible with the +Administration; and second, that the President, with all his suavity and +genial nature, had a mind of his own, and the resolution and +self-reliance to form, and the firmness and independence to execute a +purpose. They had each overestimated the influence of the other with the +President, and underestimated his capacity, will, and self-reliance. +When the Secretary became convinced that he could not alter the +President's determination, he conformed to circumstances, immediately +changed his tactics, and after notifying the authorities at Charleston +that the garrison in Sumter was to be supplied, he took prompt but +secret measures to defeat the expedition by detaching the flagship, and +sending her, with the supplies and reinforcements that had been prepared +and intended for Sumter, to Fort Pickens. In doing this he consulted +neither the War nor Navy Departments, to which the service belonged; but +discarding both, and also the General-in-Chief, his preceding special +confidant, and with whom he had until then acted in concert, he took to +his counsel younger military officers, secretly advised with them and +withdrew them from their legitimate and assigned duties. The discourtesy +and the irregularity of the proceeding, when it became known, shocked +General Scott. His pride was touched. He felt the slight, but he was too +good an officer, too subordinate, and too well disciplined, to complain. +The secret military expedition undertaken by the Secretary of State +without the knowledge of the proper departments and of himself, was so +irregular, such evidence of improper administration, that he became +alarmed. He felt keenly the course of Mr. Seward in not consulting him, +and in substituting one of his staff as military adviser for the +Secretary of State; but he was more concerned for the Government and +country. + +A native of Virginia, and imbued with the political doctrines there +prevalent, but unflinching in patriotism and devotion to the Union and +the flag, General Scott hesitated how to act--objected to the hostile +invasion of any State by the national troops, but advised that the +rebellious section should be blockaded by sea and land. He thought that +surrounded by the army and navy the insurgents would be cut off from the +outer world, and when exhausted from non-intercourse and the entire +prostration of trade and commerce they would return to duty; the +"anaconda principle" of exhausting them he believed would be effectual +without invading the territory of States. When the mayor of Baltimore +and a committee of secessionists waited upon the President on the 20th +of April to protest against the passage of troops through that city to +the national capital, he, in deference to the local government, advised +the President to yield to the metropolitan demand, and himself drew up +an Executive order to that effect. The seizure of Harper's Ferry and +Norfolk and the threatened attack upon Washington greatly disturbed him, +but not so much as the wild cry of the ardent and impulsive which soon +followed of "on to Richmond" with an undisciplined army. + +Sensible of his inability to take the field, he acquiesced in the +selection if he did not propose after the disaster at Bull Run, that +General McClellan should be called to Washington to organize the broken +and demoralized Army of the Potomac. A thorough reorganization was +promptly and effectually accomplished by that officer. In a few days +order, precision, and discipline prevailed--the troops were massed and a +large army was encamped in and about the national capital. But it was +soon evident to the members of the Administration that there was not +perfect accord between the two Generals. The cause and extent of +disagreement were not immediately understood. + +At a Cabinet meeting which took place in September at the headquarters +of the General-in-Chief by reason of his physical infirmities, a brief +discussion occurred which developed coolness if not dissatisfaction. An +inquiry was made by the President as to the exact number of troops then +in and about Washington. General McClellan did not immediately +respond--said he had brought no reports or papers with him. General +Scott said he had not himself recently received any reports. Secretary +Seward took from his pocket some memoranda, stating the number that had +been mustered in a few days previous, and then went on to mention +additional regiments which had arrived several successive days since, +making an aggregate, I think, of about ninety-three thousand men. The +General immediately became grave. + +When the subject matter for which the Cabinet and war officers had been +convened was disposed of, some of the gentlemen left, and General +McClellan was about retiring, when General Scott requested him to +remain, and he also desired the President and the rest of us to listen +to some inquiries and remarks which he wished to make. He was very +deliberate, but evidently very much aggrieved. Addressing General +McClellan, he said: + +"You are perhaps aware, General McClellan, that you were brought to +these headquarters by my advice and by my orders after consulting with +the President. I know you to be intelligent and to be possessed of some +excellent military qualities; and after our late disaster it appeared to +me that you were a proper person to organize and take active command of +this army. I brought you here for that purpose. Many things have been, +as I expected they would be, well done; but in some respects I have been +disappointed. You do not seem to be aware of your true position; and it +was for this reason I desired that the President and these gentlemen +should hear what I have to say. You are here upon my staff to obey my +orders, and should daily report to me. This you have failed to do, and +you appear to labor under the mistake of supposing that you and not I +are General-in-Chief and in command of the armies. I more than you am +responsible for military operations; but since you came here I have been +in no condition to give directions or to advise the President because my +chief of staff has neglected to make reports to me. I cannot answer +simple inquiries which the President or any member of the Cabinet makes +as to the number of troops here; they must go to the State department +and not come to military headquarters for that information." + +Mr. Seward here interposed to say that the statement he had made was +from facts which he had himself collected from day to day as the troops +arrived. "Do I understand," asked General Scott, "that the regiments +report as they come here to the Honorable Secretary of State?" + +"No, no," said Mr. Cameron, who wished to arrest or soften a painful +interview. "General McClellan is not to blame; it is Seward's work. He +is constantly meddling with what is none of his business, and (alluding +to the Pickens expedition) makes mischief in the war and navy +departments by his interference." + +There was in the manner more than in the words a playful sarcasm which +Seward felt and the President evidently enjoyed. General McClellan stood +by the open door with one hand raised and holding it, a good deal +embarrassed. He said he had intended no discourtesy to General Scott, +but he had been so incessantly occupied in organizing and placing the +army, receiving and mustering in the recruits as they arrived, and +attending to what was absolutely indispensable, that it might seem he +omitted some matters of duty, but he should extremely regret if it was +supposed he had been guilty of any disrespect. + +"You are too intelligent and too good a disciplinarian not to know your +duties and the proprieties of military intercourse," said General Scott; +"but seem to have misapprehended your right position. I, you must +understand, am General-in-Chief. You are my chief of staff. When I +brought you here you had my confidence and friendship. I do not say that +you have yet entirely lost my confidence. Good day, General McClellan." + +A few weeks later General Scott was on his own application placed upon +the retired list, and General McClellan became his successor. +Disaffection on the part of any of the officers, if any existed, did not +immediately show itself; the army and people witnessed with pride the +prompt and wonderful reorganization that had taken place, and for a time +exulted in the promised efficiency and capabilities of the "young +Napoleon." But the autumn passed away in grand reviews and showy +parades, where the young General appeared with a numerous staff composed +of wealthy young gentlemen, inexperienced, untrained, and unacquainted +with military duty, who as well as foreign princes had volunteered their +services. Parades and reviews were not useless, and the committal of +wealthy and influential citizens who were placed upon his staff had its +advantages; but as time wore on and no blow was struck or any decisive +movement attempted, complaints became numerous and envy and jealousy +found opportunity to be heard. + +The expectation that the rebellion would be suppressed in ninety days, +and that an undisciplined force of seventy-five thousand men or even +five times that number would march to Richmond, clear the banks of the +Mississippi, capture New Orleans, and overwhelm the whole South, had +given way to more reasonable and rational views before Congress convened +at the regular session in December. Still the slow progress that was +made by the Union armies, and the immense war expenditures, to which our +country was then unaccustomed, caused uneasiness with the people, and +furnished food and excitement for the factions in Congress. + +The anti-slavery feeling was increasing, but efforts to effect +emancipation were not controlling sentiments of the Administration or of +a majority of Congress at the commencement or during the first year of +Mr. Lincoln's term, although such are the representations of party +writers, and to some extent of the historians of the period. Nor did the +Administration, as is often asserted and by many believed, commence +hostilities and make aggressive war on the slave States or their +institutions; but when war began and a national garrison in a national +fortress was attacked, it did not fail to put forth its power and +energies to suppress the rebellion and maintain the integrity of the +Union. Military delays and tardy movements were nevertheless charged to +the imbecility of the Government. It is not to be denied that a portion +of the most active supporters of the President in and out of Congress +and in the armies had in view ulterior purposes than that of suppressing +the insurrection. Some were determined to avail themselves of the +opportunity to abolish slavery, others to extinguish the claim of +reserved sovereignty to the States, and a portion were favorable to +both of these extremes and to the consolidation of power in the central +Government; but a larger number than either and perhaps more than all +combined were for maintaining the Constitution and Union unimpaired. + +The President, while opposed to all innovating schemes, had the happy +faculty of so far harmonizing and reconciling his differing friends as +to keep them united in resisting the secession movement. + +Abraham Lincoln was in many respects a remarkable man, never while +living fully understood or appreciated. An uncultured child of the +frontiers, with no educational advantages, isolated in youth in his +wilderness home, with few associates and without family traditions, he +knew not his own lineage and connections. Nor was this singular in the +then condition of unsettled frontier life. His grandfather, with Daniel +Boone, left the settled part of Virginia, crossed the Alleghany +mountains, penetrated the "dark and bloody ground," and took up his +residence in the wilds of Kentucky near the close of the Revolutionary +war. There was little intercourse with each other in the new and +scattered settlements destitute of roads and with no mail facilities for +communication with relatives, friends, and the civilized world east of +the mountains. Abraham Lincoln, the grandfather of the President, was a +nephew of Daniel Boone, and partook of the spirit of his brave and +subsequently famous relative. But his residence in his secluded home was +brief. He was killed by the Indians when his son Thomas, the father of +President Lincoln, was only six years old. Four years later the +fatherless boy lost his mother. Left an orphan, this neglected child, +without kith or kindred for whom he cared or who cared for him, led a +careless, thriftless life, became a wandering pioneer, emigrated from +Kentucky when the President was but seven years old, took up his +residence for several years in the remote solitudes of Indiana, and +drifted at a later day to Illinois. This vagrant life, by a shiftless +father, and without a mother or female relative to keep alive and +impress upon him the pedigree and traditions of his family, left the +President without definite knowledge of his origin and that of his +fathers. The deprivation he keenly felt. I heard him say on more than +one occasion that when he laid down his official life he would endeavor +to trace out his genealogy and family history. He had a vague impression +that his family had emigrated from England to Pennsylvania and thence to +Virginia; but, as he remarked in my presence to Mr. Ashmun of +Massachusetts, and afterward to Governor Andrew, there was not, he +thought, any immediate connection with the families of the same name in +Massachusetts, though there was reason to suppose they had a common +ancestry. + +Having entered upon this subject, and already said more than was +anticipated at the commencment, the opportunity is fitting to introduce +extracts from a statement made by himself and to accompany it with other +facts which have come into my possession since his death--facts of which +he had no knowledge. + +In a brief autobiographical sketch of his life, written by himself, he +says: + + I was born February 12, 1809, in Hardin county, Kentucky. My + parents were both born in Virginia, of undistinguished + families--second families perhaps I should say. My mother, who died + in my tenth year, was of a family of the name of Hanks, some of + whom now reside in Adams and others in Macon county, Illinois. My + paternal grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, emigrated from Rockingham + county, Virginia, to Kentucky, about 1781 or 2, where, a year or + two later, he was killed by Indians, not in battle, but by stealth, + when he was laboring to open a farm in the forest. His ancestors, + who were Quakers, went to Virginia from Berks county, Pennsylvania. + An effort to identify them with the New England family of the same + name ended in nothing more definite than a similarity of Christian + names in both families, such as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai, Solomon, + Abraham, and the like. + + My father, at the death of his father, was but six years of age; + and he grew up literally without education. He removed from + Kentucky to what is now Spencer county, Indiana, in my eighth year. + We reached our new home about the time the State came into the + Union. It was a wild region, with many bears and other wild animals + still in the woods. There I grew up. There were some schools, so + called; but no qualification was ever required of a teacher, beyond + reading, writing, and ciphering to the rule of three. If a + straggler, supposed to understand Latin, happened to sojourn in the + neighborhood, he was looked upon as a wizard. There was absolutely + nothing to excite ambition for education. Of course when I came of + age I did not know much. Still, somehow, I could read, write, and + cipher, to the rule of three; but that was all. I have not been to + school since. The little advance I now have upon this store of + education I have picked up from time to time under the pressure of + necessity. + + I was raised to farm work, which I continued till I was twenty-two. + At twenty-one I came to Illinois, and passed the first year in + Macon county. Then I got to New Salem, at that time in Sangamon, + now in Menard county, where I remained a year as a sort of clerk in + a store. + +In addition to the foregoing I may add that among my acquaintance in +central Pennsylvania were several sisters whose maiden name was Winters. +Two of these sisters were wives of Judges of the Supreme Court of +Pennsylvania. Another sister was the wife of William Potter, a member of +Congress of some note from that State and son of General Potter of the +Revolution. These sisters were the great aunts of President Lincoln, and +I subjoin an obituary notice of the younger sister, Mrs. Potter, who +died in 1875, at the advanced age of eighty-four. There are some +incidents not immediately connected with the subject that might be +omitted, but I think it best to present the obituary in full: + + Died, in Bellefonte, at the residence of Edward C. Humes, on Sunday + morning, the 30th of May A. D. 1875, Mrs. Lucy Potter, relict of + Hon. William W. Potter, deceased, aged eighty-four years, nine + months, and two days. + + Mrs. Potter was a member of a large and rather remarkable family; + her father having been born in 1728, married in 1747, died in 1794; + children to the number of nineteen being born to him, the eldest in + 1748, the youngest in 1790--their birth extending over a period of + forty-two years. William Winters, the father of the deceased, came + from Berks county to Northumberland, now Lycoming county, in the + year 1778, having purchased the farm lately known as the Judge + Grier farm, near what was called Newberry, but now within the + corporate limits of the city of Williamsport. Mr. Winters was twice + married. His first wife was Ann Boone, a sister of Colonel Daniel + Boone, famous in the early annals of Kentucky. His marriage took + place in the year 1747 in the then province of Virginia. By this + union there were issue eleven children, four males and seven + females. His eldest daughter, Hannah, married in Rockingham county, + Virginia, Abraham Lincoln, the grandfather of President Lincoln. + Shortly before his death, Lincoln, who was killed by the Indians, + visited his father-in-law at what is now Williamsport, and John + Winters, his brother-in-law, returned with him to Kentucky, whither + Mr. Lincoln had removed after his marriage; John being deputed to + look after some lands taken by Colonel Daniel Boone and his father. + + They travelled on foot from the farm, by a route leading by where + Bellefonte now is, the Indian path "leading from Bald Eagle to + Frankstown." + + John Winters visited his sister, Mrs. Potter, in 1843, and + wandering to the hill upon which the Academy is situated, a + messenger was sent for him, his friends thinking he had lost + himself; but he was only looking for the path he and Lincoln had + trod sixty years before, and pointed out with his finger the course + from Spring creek, along Buffalo run, to where it crosses the "Long + Limestone Valley," as the route they had travelled. + + Upon the death of Mr. Winters's first wife, in 1771, he again, in + 1774, married. His second wife was Ellen Campbell, who bore him + eight children, three males and five females, of which latter the + subject of this notice was the youngest. + + The father of Mrs. Potter died in 1794, and in 1795 Mrs. Ellen + Winters, his widow, was licensed by the courts of Lycoming county + to keep a "house of entertainment" where Williamsport now is--where + she lived and reared her own children as well as several of her + step children. + + Here all her daughters married, Mary becoming the wife of Charles + Huston, who for a number of years adorned the bench of the Supreme + Court of this State; Ellen, the wife of Thomas Burnside, who was a + member of Congress, Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, and finally + a Justice of the Supreme Court; Sarah, the wife of Benjamin Harris, + whose daughter, Miss Ellen Harris, resides on Spring street in this + borough; Elizabeth, the wife of Thomas Alexander, a carpenter and + builder, who erected one of the first dwellings in Williamsport, at + the corner of what are now Pine and Third streets in that city, and + many of whose descendants are still living in Lycoming county; + Lucy, the wife of William W. Potter, a leading politician in this + county, who died on the 15th day of October, 1888, while a member + of our national Congress. + + Mrs. Potter continued with her mother's family in Lycoming county, + frequently visiting her two sisters, Mrs. Huston and Mrs. Burnside, + who resided in Bellefonte, where, in 1815, she was united in + marriage, by Rev. James Linn, with William W. Potter, a young and + rising lawyer, and son of General James Potter, one of the early + settlers of the county. Here, with her husband until his death, and + then, upon the marriage of her niece, Miss Lucy Alexander, with Mr. + Edward C. Humes, she made her home, living continuously in this + town since her marriage, and having survived her husband for the + long period of thirty-seven years, being that length of time a + widow. + +The biographers of President Lincoln have none of them given these facts +because they did not know them, nor was the President himself aware of +them. Of their authenticity so far as the relationship of Mr. Lincoln +with the family of Winters is concerned, I have no doubt. His ancestry +in this country, paternal and maternal--Lincoln, Boone, and Winters--is +to be traced to the county of Berks, Pennsylvania. + +A roving child of the forest, where there were not even village schools, +Abraham Lincoln had little early culture, but his vigorous native +intellect sought information wherever it could be obtained with limited +means and opportunities, and overcame almost insuperable obstacles. His +quick perception and powers of observation and reflection, and his +retentive memory were remarkable; his judgment was good, his mental +grasp and comprehension equal to any emergency, his intentions were +always honest, and his skill and tact, with a determination to always +maintain the right, begot confidence and made him successful and great. +Party opponents imputed his success under difficulties that seemed +insurmountable to craft and cunning; but while not deficient in +shrewdness, his success was the result not of deceptive measures or wily +intrigue, but of wisdom and fidelity with an intuitive sagacity that +seldom erred as to measures to be adopted, or the course to be pursued. +It may be said of him, that he possessed inherently a master mind, and +was innately a leader of men. He listened, as I have often remarked, +patiently to the advice and opinions of others, though he might differ +from them; treated unintentional errors with lenity, was forbearing, and +kind to mistaken subordinates, but ever true to his own convictions. He +gathered information and knowledge whenever and wherever he had +opportunity, but quietly put aside assumption and intrusive attempt to +unduly influence and control him. + +Like all his Cabinet, with the exception of Mr. Blair, who had been +educated at West Point, he was without military pretension when he +entered upon his executive duties and encountered at the very threshold +a civil war which had been long maturing, was deeply seated, and in its +progress was almost unprecedented in magnitude. Neither he nor any of +his advisers had personal, official, practical experience in +administering the civil service of the Federal Government. The +commencement of hostilities, before they had time to become familiar +with their duties, imposed upon each and all labors and cares beyond +those of any of their predecessors. To these were added the conduct of +military operations as novel as they were responsible. Unprepared as the +country was for the sudden and formidable insurrection, the +Administration was not less so, yet it was compelled at once to meet it, +make preparations, call out immense armies, and select officers to +organize and command them. + +These commanders were most of them educated military officers, but +possessed of limited experience. Their lives had been passed on a peace +establishment, and they were consequently without practical knowledge. +Many of these, as well as such officers as were selected from civil +life, seemed bewildered by their sudden preferment, and appeared to +labor under the impression that they were clothed not only with military +but civil authority. Some in the higher grades imagined that in addition +to leading armies and fighting battles, they had plenary power to +administer the Government and prescribe the policy to be pursued in +their respective departments. Much difficulty and no small embarrassment +was caused by their mistaken assumptions and acts, in the early part of +the war. + +J. C. Fremont, the western explorer, a political candidate for the +Presidency in 1856, and made a major general by President Lincoln at the +beginning of the rebellion in 1861, was assigned to the command of the +western department. He evidently considered himself clothed with +proconsular powers; that he was a representative of the Government in a +civil capacity as well as military commander, and soon after +establishing his headquarters at St. Louis assumed authority over the +slavery question which the President could neither recognize nor permit. +General Hunter, at Port Royal, and General Phelps, in the Gulf, each +laboring under the same error, took upon themselves to issue +extraordinary manifestoes that conflicted with the Constitution and +laws, on the subject of slavery, which the President was compelled to +disavow. The subject, if to be acted upon, was administrative and +belonged to the Government and civil authorities--not to military +commanders. But there was a feeling in Congress and the country which +sympathized with the radical generals in these anti-slavery decrees, +rather than with the law, and the Executive in maintaining it. The +Secretary of War, under whom these generals acted, not inattentive to +current opinion, also took an extraordinary position, and in his annual +report enunciated a policy in regard to the slavery question, without +the assent of the President and without even consulting him. Mr. Lincoln +promptly directed the assuming portion of the report, which had already +been printed, to be cancelled; but the proceeding embarrassed the +Administration and contributed to the retirement of Mr. Cameron from the +Cabinet. These differences in the army, in the Administration, and among +the Republicans in Congress, extended to the people. A radical faction +opposed to the legal, cautious, and considerate policy of the President +began to crystallize and assume shape and form, which, while it did not +openly oppose the President, sowed the seeds of discontent against his +policy and the general management of public affairs. + +The military operations of the period are not here detailed or alluded +to, except incidentally when narrating the action of the Administration +in directing army movements and shaping the policy of the Government. +Nearly one-third of the States were, during the Presidency of Mr. +Lincoln, unrepresented in the national councils, and in open rebellion. +A belt of border States, extending from the Delaware to the Rocky +mountains, which, though represented in Congress, had a divided +population, was distrustful of the President. Yielding the +Administration a qualified support, and opposed to the Government in +almost all its measures, was an old organized and disciplined party in +all the free States, which seemed to consider its obligations to party +paramount to duty to the country. This last, if it did not boldly +participate with the rebels, was an auxiliary, and as a party, hostile +to the Administration, and opposed to nearly every measure for +suppressing the insurrection. + +There were among the friends of the Administration, and especially +during its last two years, radical differences, which in the first +stages of the war were undeveloped. The mild and persuasive temper of +the President, his generous and tolerant disposition, and his kind and +moderate forbearance toward the rebels, whom he invited and would +persuade to return to their allegiance and their duty, did not +correspond with the schemes and designs of the extreme and violent +leaders of the Republican party. They had other objects than +reconstruction to attain, were implacable and revengeful, and some with +ulterior radical views thought the opportunity favorable to effect a +change of administration. + +These had for years fomented division, encouraged strife, and were as +ultra and as unreasonable in their demands and exactions as the +secessionists. Some had welcomed war with grim satisfaction, and were +for prosecuting it unrelentingly with fire and sword to the annihilation +of the rights, and the absolute subversion of the Southern States and +subjection of the Southern people. There was in their ranks unreasoning +fanaticism, and ferocity that partook of barbarism, with a mixture of +political intrigue fatal to our Federal system. These men, dissatisfied +with President Lincoln, accused him of temporizing, of imbecility, and +of sympathy with the rebels because he would not confiscate their whole +property, and hang or punish them as pirates or traitors. These radical +Republicans, as they were proud to call themselves, occupied, like all +extreme men in high party and revolutionary times, the front rank of +their party, and, though really a minority, gave tone and character to +the Republican organization. Fired with avenging zeal, and often +successful in their extreme views, though to some extent checked and +modified by the President, they were presuming, and flattered themselves +they could, if unsuccessful with Mr. Lincoln, effect a change in the +administration of the Government in 1864 by electing a President who +would conform to their ultra demands. Secret meetings and whispered +consultations were held for that purpose, and for a time aspiring and +calculating politicians gave them encouragement; but it soon became +evident that the conservative sentiment of the Republicans and the +country was with Mr. Lincoln, and that the confidence of the people in +his patriotism and integrity was such as could not be shaken. +Nevertheless, a small band of the radicals held out and would not assent +to his benignant policy. These malcontents undertook to create a +distinct political organization which, if possessed of power, would make +a more fierce and unrelenting war on the rebels, break down their local +institutions, overturn their State governments, subjugate the whites, +elevate the blacks, and give not only freedom to the slaves, but by +national decree override the States, and give suffrage to the whole +colored race. These extreme and rancorous notions found no favor with +Mr. Lincoln, who, though nominally a Whig in the past, had respect for +the Constitution, loved the Federal Union, and had a sacred regard for +the rights of the States, which the Whigs as a party did not entertain. +War two years after secession commenced brought emancipation, but +emancipation did not dissolve the Union, consolidate the Government, or +clothe it with absolute power; nor did it impair the authority and +rights which the States had reserved. Emancipation was a necessary, not +a revolutionary measure, forced upon the Administration by the +secessionists themselves, who insisted that slavery which was local and +sectional should be made national. + +The war was, in fact, defensive on the part of the Government against a +sectional insurrection which had seized the fortresses and public +property of the nation; a war for the maintenance of the Union, not for +its dissolution; a war for the preservation of individual, State, and +Federal rights; good administration would permit neither to be +sacrificed nor one to encroach on the other. The necessary exercise of +extraordinary war powers to suppress the Rebellion had given +encouragement and strength to the centralists who advocated the +consolidation and concentration of authority in the general Government +in peace as well as war, and national supervision over the States and +people. Neither the radical enthusiasts nor the designing centralists +admitted or subscribed to the doctrine that political power emanated +from the people; but it was the theory of both that the authority +exercised by the States was by grant derived from the parental or +general Government. It was their theory that the Government created the +States, not that the States and people created the Government. Some of +them had acquiesced in certain principles which were embodied in the +fundamental law called the Constitution; but the Constitution was in +their view the child of necessity, a mere crude attempt of the theorists +of 1776, who made successful resistance against British authority, to +limit the power of the new central Government which was substituted for +that of the crown. For a period after the Revolution it was admitted +that feeble limitations on central authority had been observed, though +it was maintained that those limitations had been obstructions to our +advancing prosperity, the cause of continual controversy, and had +gradually from time to time been dispensed with, broken down, or made to +yield to our growing necessities. The civil war had made innovations--a +sweep, in fact, of many constitutional barriers--and radical +consolidationists like Thaddeus Stevens and Henry Winter Davis felt that +the opportunity to fortify central authority and establish its supremacy +should be improved. + +These were the ideas and principles of leading consolidationists and +radicals in Congress who were politicians of ability, had studied the +science of government, and were from conviction opponents of reserved +rights and State sovereignty and of a mere confederation or Federal +Union, based on the political equality and reserved sovereignty of the +States, but insisted that the central Government should penetrate +further and act directly on the people. Few of these had given much +study or thought to fundamental principles, the character and structure +of our Federal system, or the Constitution itself. Most of them, under +the pressure of schemers and enthusiasts, were willing to assume and +ready to exercise any power deemed expedient, regardless of the organic +law. Almost unrestrained legislation to carry on the war induced a +spirit of indifference to constitutional restraint, and brought about an +assumption by some, a belief by others, that Congress was omnipotent; +that it was the embodiment of the national will, and that the other +departments of the Government as well as the States were subordinate and +subject to central Congressional control. Absolute power, the +centralists assumed and their fanatical associates seemed to suppose, +was vested in the legislative body of the country, and its decrees, +arbitrary and despotic, often originating in and carried first by a +small vote in party caucus, were in all cases claimed to be decisive, +and to be obeyed by the Executive, the judiciary, and the people, +regardless of the Constitution. Parliamentary discussions were not +permitted, or of little avail. The acts of caucus were despotic, +mandatory, and decisive. The several propositions and plans of President +Lincoln to reestablish the Union, and induce the seceding States to +resume their places and be represented in Congress, were received with +disfavor by the radical leaders, who, without open assault, set in +motion an undercurrent against nearly every Executive proposition as the +weak and impotent offspring of a well meaning and well intentioned, but +not very competent and intelligent mind. It was the difference between +President Lincoln and the radical leaders in Congress on the question of +reconciliation, the restoration of the States, and the reestablishment +of the Union on the original constitutional basis, which more than even +his genial and tolerant feelings toward the rebels led to political +intrigue among Republican members of Congress for the nomination of new +candidates, and opposition to Mr. Lincoln's reelection in 1864. At one +period this intrigue seemed formidable, and some professed friends lent +it their countenance, if they did not actually participate in it, who +ultimately disavowed any connection with the proceeding. + +Singular ideas were entertained and began to be developed in +propositions of an extraordinary character, relative to the powers and +the construction of the Government, which were presented to Congress, +even in the first year of the war. Theoretical schemes from cultivated +intellects, as well as crude notions from less intellectual but extreme +men, found expression in resolutions and plans, many of which were +absurd and most of them impracticable and illegal. Foremost and +prominent among them were a series of studied and elaborate resolutions +prepared by Charles Sumner, and submitted to the Senate on the 11th of +February, 1862. Although presented at that early day, they were the germ +of the reconstruction policy adopted at a later period. In this plan or +project for the treatment of the insurrectionary States and the people +who resided in them, the Massachusetts Senator manifested little regard +for the fundamental law or for State or individual rights. The high +position which this Senator held in the Republican party and in Congress +and the country, his cultured mind and scholarly attainments, his ardent +if not always discreet zeal and efforts to free the slaves and endow the +whole colored race, whether capable or otherwise, with all the rights +and privileges, socially and politically, of the educated and refined +white population whom they had previously served, his readiness and +avowed intention to overthrow the local State governments and the social +system where slavery existed, to subjugate the whites and elevate the +blacks, will justify a special notice; for it was one of the first, if +not the very first of the radical schemes officially presented to change +the character of the Government and the previously existing distinctions +between the races. His theory or plan may be taken as the pioneer of the +many wild and visionary projects of the central and abolition force, +that took shape and form not only during the war, but after hostilities +ceased and the rebels were subdued. + +Mr. Sumner introduced his scheme with a preamble which declared, among +other things, that the "extensive territory" of the South had been +"usurped by pretended governments and organizations"; that "the +Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, cannot be displaced +in its rightful operation within this territory, but must ever continue +the supreme law thereof, notwithstanding the doings of any pretended +governments acting singly or in confederation in order to put an end to +its supremacy." Therefore: + + _Resolved_, 1st. That any vote of secession, or other act by which + any State may undertake to put an end to the supremacy of the + Constitution within its territory, is inoperative and void against + the Constitution, and when sustained by force it becomes a + practical _abdication_ by the State of all rights under the + Constitution, while the treason which it involves still further + works an instant _forfeiture_ of all those functions and powers + essential to the continued existence of the State as a body + politic, so that from that time forward the territory falls under + the exclusive jurisdiction of Congress as other territory, and the + State, being, according to the language of the law, _felo de se_, + ceases to exist. + + 2d. That any combination of men assuming to act in the place of + such State, attempting to ensnare or coerce the inhabitants thereof + into a confederation hostile to the Union, is rebellious, + treasonable, and destitute of all moral authority; and that such + combination is a usurpation incapable of any constitutional + existence and utterly lawless, so that everything dependent upon it + is without constitutional or legal support. + + 3d. That the termination of a State under the Constitution + necessarily causes the termination of those peculiar local + institutions which, having no origin in the Constitution, or in + those natural rights which exist Independent of the Constitution, + are upheld by the sole and exclusive authority of the State. + + ... Congress will assume complete jurisdiction of such vacated + territory where such unconstitutional and illegal things have been + attempted, and will proceed to establish therein republican forms + of government under the Constitution. + +It is not shown how a usurpation or illegal act by conspirators in any +State or States could justify or make legal a usurpation by the general +Government, as this scheme evidently was, nor by what authority Congress +could declare that the illegal, inoperative, and void acts of usurpers +who might have temporary possession of or be a majority in a State, +could constitute a practical abdication by the State itself of all +rights under the Constitution, regardless of the rights of a legal, +loyal minority, guilty of no usurpation or attempted secession--the +innocent victims of a conspiracy; nor where Congress or the Federal +Government obtained authority to pronounce "an instant _forfeiture_ of +all those functions and powers essential to the continued existence of a +State as a body politic, so that from that time forward the territory +falls under the exclusive jurisdiction of Congress as other territory, +and the State, being, according to the language of the law, _felo de +se_, ceases to exist." + +The administration of Mr. Buchanan had laid down as a rule of +government that a State could not be coerced. The whole country not in +rebellion had declared there should be no secession, division, or +destruction of the Federal Union, but here was the most conspicuous +leader of the Republican party in the Senate proposing a scheme to +punish a State, to annihilate and destroy its government, to +territorialize it, to exclude or expel it from the Union, to make no +discrimination in its exclusions and denunciations between the loyal and +disloyal inhabitants, but to punish alike, without trial or conviction, +the just and the unjust. There were, though he was unwilling to admit +it, and was perhaps unaware of it, vindictive feelings, venom, and +revenge in his resolutions and in his whole treatment of the States and +the white people of the South. From the time that he had been stricken +down by the bludgeon of Brooks in the Senate, Mr. Sumner waged +unrelenting war on the whites in the Southern States, and seemed to +suppose it was his special mission--he certainly made it the great +object of his life--to elevate the negro race--to give them at least +equal rights and privileges with the educated and refined class--and did +not conceal his intention and expectation to bring them in as +auxiliaries to the Republican party, and thereby give it permanent +ascendancy. All this was done in the name of humanity, and with apparent +self-convinced sincerity. He was unwilling to acknowledge that he was +governed or influenced by personal resentments in his revolutionary +plans to degrade the intelligent white and exalt the ignorant black +population by tearing down the constitutional edifice. In frequent +interviews which I held with him then and at later periods, when he +found it impossible to hold his positions under the Constitution, he +claimed that he occupied higher ground, and that his authority for these +violent measures was the Declaration of Independence, which declared all +men were born equal, etc. Mr. Sumner was an idealist--neither a +constitutionalist nor a practical statesman. He could pull down, but he +could not construct--could declare what he considered humane, right, and +proper, and act upon it regardless of constitutional compromises or +conventional regulations which were the framework of the Government. No +man connected with the Administration, or in either branch of Congress, +was more thoroughly acquainted with our treaties, so familiar with the +traditions of the Government, or better informed on international law +than Charles Sumner; but on almost all other Governmental questions he +was impulsive and unreliable, and when his feelings were enlisted, +imperious, dogmatical, and often unjust. + +Why innocent persons who were loyal to the Government and the Union +should be disfranchised and proscribed because their neighbors and +fellow citizens had engaged in a conspiracy, he could not explain or +defend. By what authority whole communities and States should be +deprived of the local governments which their fathers had framed, under +which they were born, and with the provisions and traditions of which +they were familiar, was never told. + +His propositions found no favor with the Administration, nor were they +supported at the beginning by any considerable number even of the +extremists in Congress. It required much training by the centralizing +leaders for years and all the tyranny of caucus machinery after the +death of Mr. Lincoln to carry them into effect by a series of +reconstruction measures that were revolutionary in their character, and +which to a certain extent unsettled the principles on which the +Government was founded. + +But the counsel and example of the distinguished Senator from +Massachusetts were not without their influence. Resolutions by radical +Republicans and counter resolutions, chiefly by Democrats, relative to +the powers and limitations of the Federal Government and the status of +States, followed in quick succession. On the 11th of June, the subject +having been agitated and discussed for four months, Mr. Dixon, a +Republican Senator from Connecticut, whose views coincided in the main +with those of Mr. Lincoln and the Administration, submitted, after +consultation and advisement, the following: + + _Resolved_, That all acts or ordinances of secession, alleged to + have been adopted by any legislature or convention of the people of + any State, are as to the Federal Union absolutely null and void; + and that while such acts may and do subject the individual actors + therein to forfeitures and penalties, they do not, in any degree, + affect the relations of the State wherein they purport to have been + adopted to the Government of the United States, but are as to such + Government acts of rebellion, insurrection, and hostility on the + part of the individuals engaged therein, or giving assent thereto; + and that such States are, notwithstanding such acts or ordinances, + members of the Federal Union, and as such are subject to all the + obligations and duties imposed upon them by the Constitution of the + United States; and the loyal citizens of such States are entitled + to all the rights and privileges thereby guaranteed or conferred. + +The resolution of Dixon traversed the policy of Sumner and was the +Executive view of the questions that were agitated in Congress as to the +effect of the rebellion and the condition of the States in insurrection. +The Administration did not admit that rebellion dissolved the Union or +destroyed its federative character; nor did it adopt or assent to the +novel theory that the States and the whole people residing in them had +forfeited all sovereignty and all reserved State and individual rights, +because a portion of the inhabitants had rebelled; nor did it admit that +the usurpation of a portion of any community could bring condemnation +and punishment on all. The usurpations and acts of the rebels were +considered not legal acts, but nullities. + + GIDEON WELLES. + + + + +LUCILLE'S LETTER. + + + Out of the dreary distance and the dark + I stretch forth praying palms--yet not to pray; + Hands fold themselves for heaven, while mine, alas! + Are sundered--held your way. + + Brief moments have been ours, yet bright as brief; + Oh! how I live them over, one by one, + Now that the endless days, bereft of you, + Creep slowly, sadly on. + + Garnered in memory, those bewildering hours, + A golden harvest of enchantment yield; + Here, like a pale, reluctant Ruth, I glean + A cold and barren field-- + + Barren without a shelter: and the hedge + Is made of thorns and brambles. If I fain + Would lean beyond the barrier, do you see + The wounding and the stain? + + Did God make us to mock us, on the earth? + Why did he fuse our spirits by His word, + Then set His awful Angel in our path, + His Angel with the sword? + + Why, when I contrite kneel confessing all, + And seek with tears the way to be forgiven-- + Why do your pleading eyes look sadly down + Between my face and heaven? + + Why does my blood thrill at your fancied touch-- + Stop and leap up at your ideal caress? + Ah, God! to feel that dear warm mouth on mine + In lingering tenderness! + + To lie at perfect peace upon your heart, + Your arms close folded round me firm and fast, + My cheek to yours--oh, vision dear as vain! + That would be home at last. + + Leon, you are my curse, my blessing too, + My hell, my heaven, my storm that wrecks to save: + Life daunts me, and the shadows lengthen out + Beyond the grave. + + MARY L. RITTER. + + + + +SOME OLD ALMANACKS. + + +Do you know, gentle reader, what an interesting, valuable, and useful +book an "Almanack" once was? You are gorged with books, and newspapers +lie about thick as leaves in Vallambrosa. Do you ever buy an Almanac for +five cents? I trow not. Therefore you do not know how much careful +calculation, skill, and knowledge are to be had for that small piece of +money. + +Therefore you cannot sit down in the evening and pore over its mystic +signs. Indeed, I fear you do not know what a zodiac is, or what the +meaning of "Cancer the Crab" and "Gemini the Twins" may be. It is more +than likely you will reply, "Oh, yes; if the Crab had a Cancer, he would +cry Gemini to the Twins"--and in that light and flippant way you will +try to hide your brutal ignorance, if a male, your shallow +understanding, if a female. + +Now I have just had a sort of musty satisfaction in looking over some +old Almanacs, which dated as far back as 1727. They seem to have been +the property of somebody whose letters were W. S. His almanacs were so +prized that he had interleaved them, and then he recorded his profound +observations. He thus had learned, what I fear you have not, that the +moon had many mysterious influences besides making the tides rise and +fall, if it does. It seems, if we can believe "A Native of New England," +who made B. Greene's Almanack for 1731, that the "Moon has dominion over +man's body," and that when she gets into "Cancer the Crab" you must +expect every sort of bedevilment in your breast and stomach. When she +gets into "Gemini," the same in your arms and shoulders. When she is in +"Scorpio" your bowels and belly are in danger, and so on all through +your body; so that we might well enough wish the moon were wholly +abolished; for the little wishy-washy light she gives to lovers and +thieves is not at all a balance for such fearful threatenings. + +Who was the "Native of New England" is a secret, and well it is, for in +1727 he graced his title-page with this poem: + + ----Man--that Noble Creature, + Scanted of time, and stinted by Weak Nature, + That in foretimes saw jubilees of years, + As by our Ancient History appears; + Nay, which is more, even Silly Women then, + Liv'd longer time than our grave Graybeard Men. + +"Graced," did I say? May we not put a _dis_ before it? "Silly Women!" +"Noble Creature!" Did the Native mean that woman then was silly and man +then noble? Well for him is it that our "Mrs. Ward Howes" and "Mrs. +Lillie Blakes" cannot make rhymes upon _his_ name; well for him that he +went his way holding his mantle before his face. + +But he himself did not hold himself lightly. He knew all about Apoge and +Perige (we now spell them Apogee and Perigee). But does the Radical Club +itself know anything at all about Apogee and Perigee? He knew when some +"fine moderate weather" would come, when "winds enough for several" +would blow, when "bad weather for hoop petticoats" would be; and that +was on the 29th and 30th of January, 1727. Fearful weather, we may +believe; but he, the _Native_, knew. But alas for us! On the 2d, he puts +it down as "sloppy and raw cold." Now it so chances that W. S. has kept +his MS. notes against this day, and he has it "_Very fine and +pleasant_," and the next day, "_Dry and dusty._" Lamentable indeed for +the Native! But he is not to be shaken for all that; he prognosticates +through all the year just as if all was to come exactly right. One would +like to know what W. S. thought of his prognosticator, and if he kept on +studying and believing just the same as if all had come right. _I_ do +not doubt he did. + +And now we come to some positive statements about Eclipses, and learn +what we may depend on in that quarter. + +The Native goes on to say, "As to the effects, they chiefly affect those +Men that live by their Ingenuity; I mean Painters, Poets, Mercurialists, +&c." What is a mercurialist? Does he mean the worshippers of Mercury, +thieves, and that sort? "But"--and mark the cautious tone here--"but +whether it forbodes good or ill to them I shall not now determine; only +advise them to prepare for the worst!" Pretty good advice in all times +of eclipse; and in these days even when there is no eclipse. Mark his +modesty: "I do not pretend to Infallibility in my Conjectures, yet (as I +said last year) they many times come out too True to make a jest of." +Then he goes on: "I have read of a story which _Thaurus_ is said to +relate of _Andreas Vesalius_, a great Astrologer who lived in the reign +of _Henry the VIII._; to wit, that he told _Maximilian_ the Day and Hour +of his Death, who, giving credit thereto, ordered a great feast to be +made, inviting his Friends, sat and Eat [ate?] with them; and +afterwards, having distributed his Treasures among them, took leave of +them and Dyed at the time predicted." Most kind of this Maximilian, for +it must have secured a good patronage to the astrologers. + +"Yet it does not from hence follow that a certain rule may be laid +down"--a very fine astrologer, you perceive, may fail--"whereby exactly +to discover the Divine appointments. But there are many concurring +Causes of Mundane Accidents of which Humanity must be content to remain +Ignorant, and (as a wise Author affirms) No Index can be found or formed +whereby to give us any certain Diary or Destiny saving that of our +dear-bought Experience." But how can we learn about our own dying by +experience--which is what we die to know about? He continues: "And here +I cannot but take notice of our _Negro-mancers_, who, under pretence of +knowledge in the Motions of the _Heavens_, take upon them to Fore tell +the Appointments of Fate with respect to particular Persons, and thereby +betray the Ignorant part of the World Inevitably into the Worship of the +Devil. But if the Wholesome Laws of the Province were duly executed on +such _Negro-mancers_, I could venture to Fore tell what would soon be +their Fortune; You may Read it at large in this Province, New Law Book, +_page_ 117. + + "_Marblehead_, Sept. 28, 1726. + + "N. Bowen." + +Ah, friend Bowen was too alarmingly near the Salem witch times when +Minister Parris and Judge Hawthorne had come so nigh putting the Devil +to rout by hanging an old woman or two and squeezing poor Giles Cory to +death. He knew what the Law could do to those wicked negro-mancers if +they went about predicting things in a wicked way. And what a bore it +might become to have a negro-mancer foretelling in a rash and +miscellaneous way one's death and bringing it to pass too some fine and +inconvenient day! Who would not hang a negro-mancer like that? + +But suppose they should go on and squeeze the life out of such mild +negromancers as N. Bowen, Esq., too. What then? + +In 1729 we get an Almanac made by a student _with_ a name--Nathaniel +Ames, junior, _student in Physick and Astronomy_. He does not apply his +intellect to such great speculations as Bowen grappled with, but runs +easily into poetry of the true Homeric stamp. Listen: + +_January_-- + + The Earth is white like NEPTUNE's foamy face, + When his proud Waves the hardy Rocks embrace. + +_February_-- + + Boreas's chilly breath attacks our Nature, + And turns the Presbyterian to a Quaker. + +What wicked waggery is here hidden, who can tell? One thing is sure, +that Februarys ought to be abolished by the General Court if such is +true; for a Quaker then was an abominable thing. + +_March_-- + + Phoebus and Mars conjoined do both agree, + This month shall Warm (nay, more than usual) be. + +We pray that our Almanac makers will conjoin Phoebus and Mars in all +our Marches hereafter, so that we too may "Warm (more than usual) be." +How melodious that line! + +_April_ gives a sweet strain, possibly premature-- + + The Birds, like Orphans, now all things invite + To come and have Melodious, sweet delight. + +Like Orphans! Why? Should _Orpheus_ come in there, or are orphans +children of Orpheus? We are perplexed. The words sound alike. + + _May_ like a Virgin quickly yields her Charms, + To the Embrace of Winter's Icy Arms. + +It is not easy to see how that can be. Does he mean that winter had come +back and given May a late frost? And then Virgins do not, so far as I +know, yield to the Embrace of Winter's Icy Arms. Do they? I ask persons +of experience. + +_June_ comes upon us heavily-- + + SOL's scorching Ray puts Blood in Fermentation, + And is stark raught to acts of Procreation. + +That has a terrible sound. What does he mean? + +_July_-- + + The Moon (this Month), that pale-faced Queen of Night, + Will be disrobed of all her borrowed light. + +No month for lover's madness, this. Not a lover can steal forth by the +light of the moon, or do any foolish thing this month, thanks be to God! + +_August_-- + + The Earth and Sky Resound with Thunder Loud, + And Oblique streams flash from the dusky Cloud. + +That first line demands many capital letters, and what a fine word +Oblique is in the second. + +_September_ says-- + + The burthened earth abounds with various fruit, + Which doth the Epicurean's Palate Suit. + +It is to be hoped these wicked Epicureans got no more than their share, +and that church members were not converted to the heathen philosophy by +such baits. + +_October_-- + + The Tyrant Mars old Saturn now opposes, + Which stirs up Feuds and may make bloody Noses. + +October then was the fighter's month. This begins nobly, but ends +waggishly. + +_November_-- + + Now what remains to Comfort up our lives, + But Cordial Liquor and kind, loving Wives? + +"Comfort up," that is good. But the Cordial Liquor is doubtful; and then +are there no girls in the sweet bloom of maidenhood left to Comfort up +our lives? Sad indeed! + +_December_ closes up-- + + The Chrystal streams, congealed to Icy Glass, + Become fit roads for Travellers to pass. + +Excellent for the travellers. + +But now in the column of "Mutations of Weather," we find this": + + "Christmas is nigh; + The bare name of it + to Rich or Poor + will be no profit." + +We are startled. Does he mean to speak ill of Christmas--to stab it? We +look again. No--it is that Christmas without roast Turkeys and Mince +pies will be very bad. The "bare _name_"--that is what he will none of. +But on the contrary the real thing he will have, with Roasts and bakes, +and--possibly--Cordial Liquor to "Comfort up" the day. What a good word +that "Comfort up" is. We thank Nathaniel for it. + +Now in the volume for 1730 are other interesting items, and the seer and +poet seems to be our old friend, Nathan Bowen. He inclines somewhat to +poetry also, for he thus sings: + + Saturn in Thirty Years his Ring Compleats, + Which Swiftest Jupiter in Twelve repeats; + Mars Three and Twenty Months revolving spends, + The Earth in Twelve her Annual Journey Ends. + Venus thy Race in twice Four Months is run, + For his Mercurius Three demands. The Moon + Her Revolution finishes in One. + If all at Once are Mov'd, and by one Spring, + Why so Unequal in their Annual Ring?" + +Here again the sensitive soul, anxiously pondering, asks, Are students +of astronomy prone to infidelity, and does this last question mean to +convey the faintest shadow of a doubt? If not, why that "Why"? + +We gladly pass on to another topic, hoping that Nathan was not damned +for skepticism. + +"N. B.--The paper Mill mentioned in last year's almanack (at Milton) has +begun to go. Any person that will bring Rags to D. Henchman & T. +Hancock, shall have from 2d. to 6d. a pound according to their +goodness." + +"Begun to go." I like that word. "Commenced operations," "started in +business": how new and poor those great three-syllabled words seem! +"Begun to go"--that is good. + +In 1731 he tells us: + + "Ready money is now + the best of Wares." + "Some gain & some loose." + +Dear, dear, how bad! Almost, not quite so miserable, as to-day--all lose +now. + +Then he informs us officially what salutes are to be fired at Castle +William, as follows: + + March 1 Queen's Berthday 21 guns. + + May 29 Restoration of K. Ch. II. 17 " + + June 11 K. George II. accession 21 " + + Oct. 11 K. G. II. coronation 33 " + + Oct. 30 K. G. II. Berthday 27 " + + Nov. 5 Powder Plot 17 " + + Jan. 19 Prince of W. Berthday 21 " + +In 1732 the Native of New England (if it be Nathan Bowen of Marblehead) +takes hold again and breaks into song: + + Indulge, and to thy Genius freely give; + For not to live at Ease is not to live. + Death stalks behind thee, and each flying Hour + Does some loose Remnant of thy Life devour. + Live while thou livest, for Death shall make us all + A Name of Nothing, but an Old Wife's Tale. + Speak: wilt thou AVORICE or PLEASURE Chuse + To be thy Lord? Take One & One Refuse.--_Perseus_. + +We begin to fear indeed that Nathan is little better than one of those +wicked Epicureans himself. _Avorice_ or _Pleasure_. Take one? Must we +indeed? Pleasure? It looks as if Nathan was a very naughty man. + +Things have evidently not gone quite smoothly with N. Bowen this last +year, for, in his "Kind Reader" of 1733, he says: "Having last year +finished Twelve of my Annual Papers [he means Almanacks], I proposed to +lay down my pen and leave the Drudgery of Calculation to those who have +more leisure and a Clearer Brain than I can pretend to. Indeed, the +Contempt with which a writer of Almanacks is looked on and the Danger he +is in of being accounted a Conjurer"--a negro-mancer--"should seem +sufficient to deter a man from publishing anything of this kind. But +when I consider that all this is the effect of Ignorance, and, +therefore, not worth my Notice or Resentment, and that the most +judicious and learned part of the World have always highly valued and +esteemed such Undertakings as what are not only great and noble in +themselves; but as they are of absolute necessity in the Business and +Affairs of Life, I am induced to appear again in the World, and hope +this will meet with the same kind acceptance with my former." + +With me he meets with the same kind acceptance, for I believe in the +Nobility of the Almanac; and it is certain that every man should believe +in the Nobility of his work whatever it is--then he is sure of _one_ +ardent Admirer. It is sad to think that some carping critic had been +riling the sweet soul of Nathan in the year 1732. It is all over now. +Let us hope he is not damned for his Epicureanism, but is reaping his +crop of praise in a better climate than Marblehead. He gives us more +poetry in 1733, and a clear account of why Leap years are necessary, +which I do not repeat here, the popular belief being that they were +invented in order that maidens might if they wished make love to swains, +which belief I would do nothing to shake. + +In the next year we have quite a learned discourse about the Julian AEra, +Epochs, Olympiads, etc., from which I can only venture to take the +following concise and valuable and accurate statement of this +astronomer: + +"JESUS CHRIST the SAVIOUR of the World was Incarnate in the 4,713 year +of the Julian Period; the 3,949 of the Creation, the 4th of the 194th +Olympiad, and the 753 Currant Year of the Roman Foundation." + +Persons having any doubts as to the time of our blessed Saviour's +appearance had better cut this out and keep it carefully for future +reference and for the confusion of "skepticks." + +Let us not leave these interesting vestiges of an earlier creation +without a few words as to W. S. He, as I have said, was the purchaser +and owner of these sacred books. His almanacs were carefully interleaved +and evidently were intended to be not only a record of the wisdom of the +"Students in Physick and Astronomy," but also of events in the lives of +devout owners. We find W. S. begins with fervor and fidelity to record +daily interesting facts such as, in February: + +"Fine, somewhat cold. + +"Very pleasant. + +"A storm of snow. + +"More snow, but clears away windy. + +"A very fine day. + +"_Idem_, but windy." + +Aha! here, then, we have a man who knew _Latin_ in the Year of our Lord +1727. "_Idem_"--that is such a good word that he uses it often, and it +has a good sound, too. Through January, February, March he attends daily +to this high duty, and tells us how it was: + +"A bright morning, but a dull day. + +"Windy. + +"Cool." + +On the 27th, "Much rain, a violent storm, snow'd up." + +In April things change. His interest flags. He does not write down his +record every day. Has W. S. grown lazy? Is it too warm for assiduous +tasks, or has a new element come into his life? Let us see. He begins +April: + +"1. A clearer day. + +"2. Set my clock forward 20 m. + +"3. Lethfield arrived from London." + +The clock--that, I believe, was the great event, and that it came from +London. What may it have been? Clearly one of those tall, stately pieces +with the moon and the sun showing their faces on the silver dial, the +fine mahogany case worthy to uphold all. Where is that clock now? Who +can tell? From this time forth this was the object of interest, for in +nearly all the months we have this record, "Set my clock." He grows +terribly indifferent to the weather. A clock then was a wonderful thing, +and it is a wonderful thing now. Think of it. How these little wheels +and springs are so contrived that they tick the seconds and the minutes +and the hours day and night, so that Father Time might himself set his +watch by some of them. But then it was a rarer and a more interesting +thing than now. We can easily fancy the neighbors gathering to see the +fine clock standing in its place in the hall, telling its monotonous +tale all the nights and days. + +But another interesting record now comes in. This, too, is an event--in +May: + +"17. I bottled cyder." + +And then in October again: + +"20. Cyder come." + +Cyder is not a thing to be despised even by a man who knows Latin. But +is not cyder an important thing to everybody? They had neither tea nor +coffee then, and man likes to drink. We may know, too, that in those +days every good woman made a few bottles of currant wine, made also her +rose cakes to sweeten her drawers, gathered and dried lavender to make +lavender-water, also sage and hoarhound, "good for sickness." Alas! that +people might be sick even in those "Good old Times," we know, and we +find that in January, 1727, W. S. puts down carefully this: + +"A Recipe for y^e cure of Sciatica pains--viz.: + +"Take 2 ounces of flowered brimstone, four ounces of Molasses. Mix y^m +together, and take a spoonfull morning and evening, and if y^t do not +effect a cure, take another spoonfull at noon also." You continue until +you get well, or--something! + +Why endure sciatica pains after this? We make no charge for this +valuable knowledge. + +But in June we find it put down: + +"Mr. Davenport Chosen Tutor And confirmed by y^e overseers." + +Here we have a clue to the Latin. + +And in August is another entry: + +"Governor Burnett, upon an invitation, came to visit y^e Coll: +besides---- y^e Civil Officers in Cambridge w^th some others, together +with y^e Masters of Art in College, were invited to dine w^th him. There +was an Oration in y^e hall by Sir Clark, some of y^e neighboring Clergie +were present, & about sixty persons in all had a handsome dinner in y^e +Library." + +Here _was_ an event to be recorded. But was W. S. present? We remain in +the dark. + +Entries now become more and more uncommon. We learn little more of the +clock or of the cyder; and we are at a loss to explain the reason why. +But lo! we have it! In November there is but one entry, on the + +"21. _I was married_." + +There is the gospel, without note or comment. To whom? We ask in vain. +"I was married," and that is all. But is not that enough? No more +records about clocks and cyder! What need of those things? Very few +entries are made in this year, and these are records of the thermometer. +Evidently a new one had come from London. But in October is a short and +significant record: + +"19. Bille was born at 5 a clock morning." + +It was inevitable--cause and effect--a striking example--most +philosophic! Had he black eyes or blue? Was he like his father or his +mother? Was he little or big? Did he weigh eight pounds or ten? Did he +live to be a man? None of these things are recorded, and we shall never +know. After this supreme event few entries appear in the diary through +the years. Life has become engrossing, important. Let us hope it was +sufficing and not full of failure and trouble; let us enjoy the pleasure +of believing so, as we well may. The clock, the cyder, the thermometer, +the little Bille: what more important matters had he or have we to +record? We part with the three, the four faint shadows, Nathaniel, +Nathan, W. S., and little Bille, with a mild regret, hoping we may meet +them, and especially "little Bille," on the other side. Till then +farewell. + + CHARLES WYLLYS ELLIOTT. + + + + +TO WALT WHITMAN. + + + O Titan soul, ascend your starry steep + On golden stair to gods and storied men! + Ascend! nor care where thy traducers creep. + For what may well be said of prophets when + A world that's wicked comes to call them good? + Ascend and sing! As kings of thought who stood + On stormy heights and held far lights to men, + Stand thou and shout above the tumbled roar, + Lest brave ships drive and break against the shore. + + What though thy sounding song be roughly set? + Parnassus' self is rough! Give thou the thought, + The golden ore, the gems that few forget; + In time the tinsel jewel will be wrought.... + Stand thou alone and fixed as destiny; + An imaged god that lifts above all hate, + Stand thou serene and satisfied with fate. + Stand thou as stands that lightning-riven tree + That lords the cloven clouds of gray Yosemite. + + Yea, lone, sad soul, thy heights must be thy home. + Thou sweetest lover! love shall climb to thee, + Like incense curling some cathedral dome + From many distant vales. Yet thou shalt be, + O grand, sweet singer, to the end alone. + But murmur not. The moon, the mighty spheres, + Spin on alone through all the soundless years; + Alone man comes on earth; he lives alone; + Alone he turns to front the dark Unknown. + + Then range thine upper world, nor stoop to wars. + Walk thou the heights as walked the old Greeks when + They talked to austere gods, nor turned to men. + Teach thou the order of the singing stars. + Behold, in mad disorder these are set, + And yet they sing in ceaseless harmonies. + They spill as jewels spilt through space. They fret + The souls of men who measure melodies + As they would measure slimy deeps of seas. + + Take comfort, O uncommon soul. Yet pray + Lest ye grow proud in such exalted worth. + Let no man reckon he excels. I say + The laws of compensation compass earth, + And no man gains without some equal loss: + Each ladder round of fame becomes a rod, + And he who lives must die upon a cross. + The stars are far, but flowers bless the sod, + And he who has the least of man has most of God. + + JOAQUIN MILLER. + + + + +MADCAP VIOLET. + +BY WILLIAM BLACK. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +JOY AND FEAR. + + +Was this man mad, that he, an invalid, propped up in his chair, and +scarcely able to move a wine-glass out of his way, should play pranks +with the whole created order of things, tossing about solar systems as +if they were no more than juggler's balls, and making universal systems +of philosophy jump through hoops as if he were a lion tamer in a den? +These poor women did not know where to catch him. Violet used to say +that he was like a prism, taking the ordinary daylight of life and +splitting it up into a thousand gay and glancing colors. That was all +very well as a spectacular exhibition; but how when he was apparently +instructing them in some serious matter? Was it fair to these tender +creatures who had so lovingly nursed him, that he should assume the airs +of a teacher, and gravely lead out his trusting disciples into the +desert places of the earth, when his only object was to get them into a +bog and then suddenly reveal himself as a will-o'-the-wisp, laughing at +them with a fiendish joy? + +What, for example, was all this nonsense about the land question--about +the impossibility of settling it in England so long as the superstitious +regard for land existed in the English mind? They were quite ready to +believe him. They deprecated that superstition most sincerely. They +could not understand why a moneyed Englishman's first impulse was to go +and buy land; they could give no reason for the delusion existing in the +bosom of every Englishman that he, if no one else, could make money out +of the occupation of a farm that had ruined a dozen men in succession. +All this was very well; but what were they to make of his sudden +turning round and defending that superstition as the most beautiful +sentiment in human nature? It was, according to him, the sublimest +manifestation of filial love--the instinct of affection for the great +mother of us all. And then the flowers became our small sisters and +brothers; and the dumb look of appeal in a horse's eye, and the singing +of a thrush at the break of day--these were but portions of the +inarticulate language now no longer known to us. What was any human +being to make of this rambling nonsense? + +It all came of the dress coat, and of his childish vanity in his white +wristbands. It was the first occasion on which he had ceremoniously +dressed for dinner; and Violet had come over; and he was as proud of his +high and stiff collar, and of his white necktie, as if they had been the +ribbon and star of a royal order. And then they were all going off the +next morning--Miss North included--to a strange little place on the +other side of the Isle of Wight; and he had gone "clean daft" with the +delight of expectation. There was nothing sacred from his mischievous +fancy. He would have made fun of a bishop. In fact he did; for, +happening to talk of inarticulate language, he described having seen +"the other day," in Buckingham Palace road, a bishop who was looking at +some china in a shop window; and he went on to declare how a young +person driving a perambulator, and too earnestly occupied with a sentry +on the other side of the road, incontinently drove that perambulator +right on to the carefully swathed toes of the bishop; and then he +devoted himself to analyzing the awful language which he _saw_ on the +afflicted man's face. + +"But, uncle," said Amy Warrener, with the delightful freshness of +fifteen, "how could you see anybody in Buckingham Palace road the other +day, when you haven't been out of the house for months?" + +"How?" said he, not a whit abashed. "How could I see him? I don't know, +but I tell you I did see him. With my eyes, of course." + +He lost his temper, however, after all. + +"To-morrow," he was saying, "I bid good-by to my doctor. I bear him no +malice; may he long be spared from having to meet in the next world the +people he sent there before him! But look here, Violet--to-morrow +evening we shall be _free_--and we shall celebrate our freedom, and our +first glimpse of a seashore, in Scotch whiskey--in hot Scotch +whiskey--in Scotch whiskey with the boilingest of boiling water, just +caught at the proper point of cooling. You don't know that point; I will +teach you; it is perfection. Don't you know that we have just caught the +cooling point of the earth--just that point in its transition from being +a molten mass to its becoming a chilled and played out stone that admits +of our living----" + +"But, uncle," said Amy, "I thought the earth used to be far colder than +it is now. Remember the glacial period," added this profound student of +physics. + +This was too much. + +"Dear, dear me!" he exclaimed. "Am I to be brought up at every second by +a pert schoolgirl when I am expounding the mysteries of life? What have +your twopenny-halfpenny science primers to do with the grand secret of +toddy? I tell you we must _catch it at the cooling point_; and then, +Violet--for you are a respectful and attentive student--if the evening +is fine, and the air warm, and the windows open and looking out to the +south--do you think the doctor could object to that one first, faint +trial of a cigarette, just to make us think we are up again in the +August nights--off Isle Ornsay--with Aleck up at the bow singing that +hideous and melancholy song of his, and the Sea Pyot slowly creeping +along by the black islands?" + +She did not answer at all; but for a brief moment her lip trembled. Amid +all this merriment she had sat with a troubled face, and with a sore and +heavy heart. She had seen in it but a pathetic bravado. He would drink +Scotch whiskey--he would once more light a cigarette--merely to assure +her that he was getting thoroughly well again; his laughter, his jokes, +his wild sallies were all meant, and she knew it, to give her strength +of heart and cheerfulness. She sat and listened, with her eyes cast +down. When she heard him talk lightly and playfully of all that he meant +to do, her heart throbbed, and she dared not lift her eyes to his face, +lest they should suddenly reveal to him that awful conflict within of +wild, and piteous, and agonizing doubt. + +Then that reference to their wanderings in the northern seas--he did not +know how she trembled as he spoke. She could never even think of that +strange time she had spent up there, and of the terrible things that had +come of it, without a shudder. If she could have cut it out of her life +and memory altogether, that would have been well; but how could she +forget the agony of that awful farewell; the sense of utter loneliness +with which she saw the shores recede; the conviction then borne in upon +her--and never wholly eradicated from her mind--that some mysterious +doom had overtaken her, from which there was no escape. The influence of +that time, and of the time that succeeded it, still dwelt upon her, and +overshadowed her with its gloom. She had almost lost the instinct of +hope. She never doubted, when they carried young Dowse into that silent +room, but that he would die: was it not her province to bring misery to +all who were associated with her? And she had got so reconciled to this +notion that she did not argue the matter with herself; she had, for +example, no sense of bitterness in contrasting this apparent "destiny" +of hers with the most deeply-rooted feeling in her heart; namely, a +perfectly honest readiness to give up her own life if only that could +secure the happiness of those she loved. She did not even feel injured +because this was impossible. Things were so; and she accepted them. + +But sometimes, in the darkness of her room, in the silence of the +night-time, when her heart seemed to be literally breaking with its +conflict of anxious love and returning despair, some wild notion of +propitiation--doubtless derived from ancient legends--would flash across +her mind; and she would cry in her agony, "If one must be taken, let it +be me! The world cares for him. What am I?" If she could only go out +into the open place of the city, and bare her bosom to the knife of the +priest, and call on the people to see how she had saved the life of her +beloved--surely that would be to die happy. What she had done, now that +she came to look back over it, seemed but too poor an expression of her +great love and admiration. What mattered it that a girl should give up +her friends and her home? Her life--her very life--that was what she +desired, when these wild fancies possessed her, to surrender freely, if +only she could know that she was rescuing him from the awful portals +that her despairing dread saw open before him, and was giving him +back--as she bade him a last farewell--to health, and joy, and the +comfort of many friends. + +With other wrestlings in spirit, far more eager and real than these mere +fancies derived from myths, it is not within the province of the present +writer to deal; they are not for the house-tops or the market-places. +But it may be said that in all directions the gloomy influences of that +past time pursued her; wherever she went she was haunted by a morbid +fear that all her resolute will could not shake off. Where, for example, +could she go for sweeter consolation, for more cheering solace than to +the simple and reassuring services of the church? But before she +entered, eager to hear words of hope and strengthening, there was the +graveyard to pass through, with the misery of generations recorded on +its melancholy stones. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +"OH, GENTLE WIND THAT BLOWETH SOUTH." + + +But if this girl, partly through her great yearning love, and partly +through the overshadowing of her past sufferings, was haunted by a +mysterious dread, that was not the prevailing feeling within this small +household which was now pulling itself together for a flight to the +south. Even she caught something of the brisk and cheerful spirit +awakened by all the bustle of departure; and when her father, who had +come to London Bridge station to see the whole of them off, noticed the +businesslike fashion in which she ordered everybody about, so that the +invalid should have his smallest comforts attended to, he could not help +saying, with a laugh-- + +"Well, Violet, this is better than starting for America all by yourself, +isn't it? But I don't think you would have been much put out by that +either." + +A smart young man came up, and was for entering the carriage. + +"I beg your pardon," said she, respectfully but firmly. "This carriage +is reserved." + +The young man looked at both windows. + +"I don't see that it is," he retorted coolly. + +He took hold of the handle of the door, when she immediately rose and +stood before him, an awful politeness and decorum on her face, but the +fire of Bruenhilde the warrior maiden in her eyes. + +"You will please call the guard before coming in here. The carriage is +reserved." + +At this moment her father came forward--not a little inclined to laugh. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but the carriage is really reserved. There was +a written paper put up--it has fallen down, I suppose--there it is." + +So the smart young man went away; but was it fair, after this notable +victory, that they should all begin to make fun of her fierce and +majestic bearing, and that the very person for whose sake she had +confronted the enemy should begin to make ridiculous rhymes about her, +such as these: + + "Then out spake Violet Northimus-- + Of Euston Square was she-- + 'Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, + And guard the door with thee!'" + +Violet Northimus did not reply. She wore the modesty of a victor. She +was ready at any moment to meet six hundred such as he; and she was not +to be put out, after the discomfiture of her enemy, by a joke. + +Then they slowly rolled and grated out of the station, and by-and-by the +swinging pace increased, and they were out in the clearer light and the +fresher air, with a windy April sky showing flashes of blue from time to +time. They went down through a succession of thoroughly English looking +landscapes--quiet valleys with red-tiled cottages in them, bare heights +green with the young corn, long stretches of brown and almost leafless +woods, with the rough banks outside all starred with the pale, clear +primrose. There was one in that carriage who had had no lack of flowers +that spring--flowers brought by many a kindly hand to brighten the look +of the sick room; but surely it was something more wonderful to see the +flowers themselves, growing here in this actual and outside world which +had been to him for many a weary week but a dimly imagined dreamland. +There were primroses under the hedges, primroses along the high banks, +primroses shining pale and clear within the leafless woods, among the +russet leaves of the previous autumn. And then the life and motion of +the sky, the southwesterly winds, the black and lowering clouds +suddenly followed by a wild and dazzling gleam of sunlight, the grays +and purples flying on and leaving behind them a welcome expanse of +shining April blue. + +The day was certainly squally enough, and might turn to showers; but the +gusts of wind that blew through the carriage were singularly sweet and +mild; and again and again Mr. Drummond, who had been raised by all this +new life and light into the very highest spirits, declared with much +solemnity that he could already detect the smell of the salt sea air. +They had their quarrels of course. It pleased a certain young lady to +treat the south coast of England with much supercilious contempt. You +would have imagined from her talk that there was something criminal in +one's living even within twenty miles of the bleak downs, the shabby +precipices, and the muddy sea which, according to her, were the only +recognizable features of our southern shores. She would not admit indeed +that there was any sea at all there; there was only churned chalk. Was +it fair to say, even under the exasperation of continual goading, that +the Isle of Wight was only a trumpery toy shop; that its "scenery" was +fitly adorned with bazaars for the sale of sham jewelry; that its +amusements were on a par with those of Rosherville gardens; that its +rocks were made of mud and its sea of powdered lime? + +"By heavens," exclaimed her antagonist, "I will stand this no longer. I +will call upon Neptune to raise such a storm in the Solent as shall +convince you that there is quite enough sea surrounding that pearl of +islands, that paradise, that world's wonder we are going to visit." + +"Yes, I have no doubt," said she with sweet sarcasm, "that if you +stirred the Solent with a teaspoon, you would frighten the yachtsmen +there out of their wits." + +"Oh, Violet," cried another young lady, "you know you were dreadfully +frightened that night in Tobermory bay, when the equinoctial gales +caught us, and the men were tramping overhead all night long." + +"I should be more frightened down here," was the retort, "because if we +were driven ashore I should be choked first and drowned afterward. Fancy +going out of the world with a taste of chalk in your mouth." + +"Well, at this moment the fierce discussion was stopped by the arrival +of the train at Portsmouth; but here a very singular incident occurred. +Violet was the first to step out on to the platform. + +"You have a tramway car that goes down to the pier, have you not?" she +asked of the guard. + +"Ain't going to-day, miss," was the answer. "Boats can't come in to +Southsea--the sea is very high. You'll have to go to Portsea, miss." + +Now, what was this man's amazement on seeing this young lady suddenly +burst out laughing as she turned and looked into the carriage. + +"Did you hear that?" she cried. "The Solent is raging! They can't come +near Southsea! Don't you think, Mrs. Warrener, that it will be very +dangerous to go to Portsea?" + +"I'll tell you what it is," said Mrs. Warrener with a malicious smile, +"if a certain young lady I know were to be ill in crossing, she would be +a good deal more civil to her native country when she reached the other +side." + +But in good truth, when they got down to Portsea there was a pretty +stiff breeze blowing; and the walk out on the long pier was not a little +trying to an invalid who had but lately recovered the use of his limbs. +The small steamer, too, was tossing about considerably at her moorings; +and Violet pretended to be greatly alarmed because she did not see +half-a-dozen lifeboats on board. Then the word was given; the cables +thrown off; and presently the tiny steamer was running out to the windy +and gray-green sea, the waves of which not unfrequently sent a shower of +spray across her decks. The small party of voyagers crouched behind the +funnel, and were well out of the water's way. + +"Look there now," cried Mr. Drummond, suddenly pointing to a large bird +that was flying by, high up in the air, about a quarter of a mile +off--"do you see that? Do you know what that is? That is a wild goose, a +gray lag, that has been driven in by bad weather; _now_ can you say we +have no waves, and winds, and sea in the south?" + +Miss Violet was not daunted. + +"Perhaps it is a goose," she said coolly. "I never saw but one flying--- +you remember you shot it. What farm-yard has this one left?" + +"Oh, for shame, Violet," Mrs. Warrener called out, "to rake up old +stories!" + +She was punished for it. The insulted sportsman was casting about for +the cruelest retort he could think of, when, as it happened, Miss Violet +bethought her of looking round the corner of the boiler to see whether +they were getting near Ryde; and at the same moment it also happened +that a heavy wave, striking the bows of the steamer, sent a heap of +water whirling down between the paddle-box and the funnel, which caught +the young lady on the face with a crack like a whip. As to the shout of +laughter which then greeted her, that small party of folks had heard +nothing like it for many a day. There was salt water dripping from her +hair; salt water in her eyes; salt water running down her tingling and +laughing cheeks; and she richly deserved to be asked, as she was +immediately asked, whether the Solent was compounded of water and marl +or water and chalk, and which brand she preferred. + +Was it the balmy southern air that tempered the vehemence of these +wanderers as they made their way across the island, and getting into a +carriage at Ventnor, proceeded to drive along the Undercliff? There was +a great quiet prevailing along these southern shores. They drove by +underneath the tall and crumbling precipices, with wood pigeons +suddenly shooting out from the clefts, and jackdaws wheeling about far +up in the blue. They passed by sheltered woods, bestarred with anemones +and primroses, and showing here and there the purple of the as yet +half-opened hyacinth; they passed by lush meadows, all ablaze with the +golden yellow of the celandine and the purple of the ground ivy; they +passed by the broken, picturesque banks where the tender blue of the +speedwell was visible from time to time, with the white glimmer of the +starwort. And then all this time they had on their left a gleaming and +wind-driven sea, full of motion, and light, and color, and showing the +hurrying shadows of the flying clouds. + +At last far away, secluded and quiet, they came to a quaint little inn, +placed high over the sea, and surrounded by sheltering woods and hedges. +The sun lay warm on the smooth green lawn in front, where the daisies +grew. There were dark shadows--almost black shadows--along the +encircling hedge and under the cedars; but these only showed the more +brilliantly the silver lighting of the restless, whirling, wind-swept +sea beyond. It was a picturesque little house, with its long veranda +half-smothered in ivy and rose bushes now in bud; with its tangled +garden about, green with young hawthorn and sweetened by the perfume of +the lilacs; with its patches of uncut grass, where the yellow cowslips +drooped. There was an air of dreamy repose about the place; even that +whirling and silvery gray sea produced no sound; here the winds were +stilled, and the black shadows of the trees on that smooth green lawn +only moved with the imperceptible moving of the sun. + +Violet went up stairs and into her room alone; she threw open the small +casements, and stood there looking out with a somewhat vague and distant +look. There was no mischief now in those dark and tender eyes; there was +rather an anxious and wistful questioning. And her heart seemed to go +out from her to implore these gentle winds, and the soft colors of the +sea, and the dreamy stillness of the woods, that now they should, if +ever that was possible to them, bring all their sweet and curative +influences to bear on him who had come among them. Now, if ever! Surely +the favorable skies would heed, and the secret healing of the woods +would hear, and the bountiful life-giving sea winds would bestir to her +prayer! Surely it was not too late! + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +HOPE'S WINGS. + + +The long journey had taxed his returning strength to the utmost, and for +the remainder of that day he looked worn and fatigued; but on the next +morning he was in the best of spirits, and nothing would do but that +they should at once set out on their explorations. + +"Why not rest here?" said Violet. They were sitting in the shade of +their morning room, the French windows wide open, the pillars and roof +of the veranda outside framing in a picture of glowing sunlight and +green vegetation, with glimpses of the silvery, white sea beyond. "Why +not rest here?" she said; "what is the use of driving about to see bare +downs, and little holes in the mud that they call chasms, and waterfalls +that are turned on from the kitchen of the hotel above? That is what +they consider scenery in the Isle of Wight; and then, before you can see +it, you must buy a glass brooch or a china doll." + +The fact is, he did not himself particularly care about these +excursions, but he was afraid of the place becoming tiresome and +monotonous to one whom he would insist on regarding as a visitor. She on +the other hand affected a profound contempt for the sufficiently +pleasant places about the Isle of Wight for the very purpose of inducing +him to rest in the still seclusion of this retreat they had chosen. But +here was the carriage at the door. + +"Violet," said Amy Warrener, as they were leisurely driving along the +quiet ways, under the crumbling gray cliffs, where the jackdaws were +flying, "where shall we go for a climb? Don't you think we might come +upon another Mount Glorioso?" + +"No," said the girl rather absently; "I don't think we shall see another +Mount Glorioso soon again." + +"Not this autumn?" cried Mr. Drummond cheerfully; "not this summer?--for +why should we wait for the autumn! Violet, I have the most serious +projects with regard to the whole of us. It is high time that I set +about recognizing the ends of existence; that is to say, before I die I +must have a house in Bayswater and two thousand a year. All nice novels +end that way. Now, in order that we shall all reach this earthly +paradise, what is to be done? I have two projects. A publisher--the +first wise man of his race--I will write an epitaph for him quite +different from my universal epitaph--this shrewd and crafty person, +determined to rescue at least one mute, inglorious Milton from neglect, +has written to me. There! He has read my article on 'The Astronomical +Theory with regard to the Early Religions'; he has perceived the +profound wisdom, the research, the illuminating genius of that work--by +the way, I don't think I ever fully explained to you my notions on that +subject?" + +"Oh, no, please don't," said Violet meekly. "What does the publisher +say?" + +"Do you see the mean, practical, commercial spirit of these women?" he +said, apparently addressing himself. "It is only the money they think +of. They don't want to be instructed!" + +"I know the article well enough," said Violet blushing hotly. "I read +it--I--I saw it advertised, and bought the review, when I hadn't much +money to spend on such things." + +"Did you, Violet?" said he, forgetting for a moment his nonsense. Then +he continued: "The publisher thinks that with some padding of a general +and attractive nature, the subject might be made into a book. Why, +therefore, should not our fortune be made at once, and the gates of +Bayswater thrown open to the Peri? I do believe I could make an +interesting book. I will throw in a lot of Irish anecdotes. I wonder if +I could have it illustrated with pictures of 'Charles I. in Prison,' the +'Dying Infant,' 'The Sailor's Adieu,' and some such popular things!" + +"I think," said Violet humbly, "we might go on to the other project." + +"Ah," said he thoughtfully, "that requires time and silence first. I +must have the inspiration of the mountains before I can resolve it. Do +you know what it is?" + +"Not yet." + +"It is the utilizing of a great natural force. That is what all science +is trying to do now; and here is one of the mightiest forces in nature +of which nothing is made, unless it be that a few barges get floated up +and down our rivers. Do you see? The great mass of tidal force, +absolutely irresistible in its strength, punctual as the clock itself, +always to be calculated on--why should this great natural engine remain +unused?" + +"But then, uncle," said a certain young lady, "if you made the tide +drive machinery at one time of the day, you would have to turn the house +round to let it drive it again as it was going back." + +"Child, child!" said the inventor peevishly, "why do you tack on these +petty details to my grand conception? It is the idea I want to sell; +other people can use it. Now, will the government grant me a patent?" + +"Certainly," said Violet. + +"What royalty on all work executed by utilizing the tidal currents?" + +"A million per cent." + +"How much will that bring in?" + +"Three millions a minute!" + +"Ah," said he, sinking back with a sigh, "we have then reached the goal +at last. Bayswater, we approach you. Shall the brougham be bottle-green +or coffee-colored?" + +"A brougham!" cried Violet; "no--a barge of white and gold, with crimson +satin sails, and oars of bronze, towed by a company of snow-white +swans----" + +"Or mergansers"---- + +"And floating through the canals of claret which we shall set flowing in +the streets. Then the Lord Mayor and the corporation will come to meet +you, and you will get the freedom of the city presented in a gold +snuff-box. As for Buckingham Palace--well, a baronetcy would be a nice +thing." + +"A baronetcy! Three millions a year and only a baronet! By the monuments +of Westminster Abbey, I will become a duke and an archbishop rolled into +one, and have the right of sending fifteen people a day to be beheaded +at the tower." + +"Oh, not that, uncle!" + +"And why not?" + +"Because there wouldn't be any publishers at the end of the year." + +"And here we are at Black Gang Chine!" + +Violet would not go down. She positively refused to go down. She called +the place Black Gang Sham, and hoped they were pouring enough water down +the kitchen pipe of the hotel to make a foaming cataract. But she begged +Mrs. Warrener and Amy, who had not seen the place, to go down, while she +remained in the carriage with Mr. Drummond. So these two disappeared +into the bazaar. + +"You are not really going to Scotland, are you?" she said simply, her +head cast down. + +"I have been thinking of it," he answered. "Why not?" + +"The air here is very sweet and soft," she said in a hesitating way. "Of +course, I know, the climate on the west coast of Scotland is very mild, +and you would get the mountain air as well as the sea air. But don't you +think the storms, the gales that blow in the spring----" + +"Oh," said he cheerfully, "I shall never be pulled together till I get +up to the north--I know that. I may have to remain here till I get +stronger, but by-and-by I hope we shall all go up to Scotland together, +and that long before the shooting begins." + +"I--I am afraid," said she, "that I shall not be of the party." + +"You? Not you?" he cried. "You are not going to leave us, Violet, just +after we have found you?" + +He took her hand, but she still averted her eyes. + +"I half promised," she said, "to spend some time with Mr. and Mrs. +Dowse. They are very lonely. They think they have a claim on me, and +they have been very kind." + +"You are not going to Mr. and Mrs. Dowse, Violet," said he promptly. "I +pity the poor people, but we have a prior claim on you, and we mean to +insist on it. What, just after all this grief of separation, you would +go away from us again? No, no! I tell you, Violet, we shall never find +you your real self until you have been braced up by the sea breezes. I +mean the real sea breezes. You want a scamper among the heather--I can +see that; for I have been watching you of late, and you are not up to +the right mark. The sooner we all go the better. Do you understand +that?" + +He had been talking lightly and cheerfully, not caring who overheard. +She, on the other hand, was anxious and embarrassed, not daring to utter +what was on her mind. At last she said: + +"Will you get down for a minute or two, and walk along the road? It is +very sheltered here, and the sun is warm." + +He did so, and she took his arm, and they walked away apart in the +sunlight and silence. When they had gone some distance she stopped and +said in a low and earnest voice: + +"Don't you know why I cannot go to the Highlands with you? It would kill +me. How could I go back to all those places?" + +"I understand that well enough, Violet," said he gently, "but don't you +think you ought to go for the very purpose of conquering that feeling? +There is nothing in that part of the country to inspire you with dread. +You would see it all again in its accustomed light." + +She shook her head. + +"Very well, then," said he, for he was determined not to let these +gloomy impressions of the girl overcome him. "If not there, somewhere +else. We are not tied to Castle Bandbox. There is plenty of space about +the West Highlands or about the Central Highlands, for the matter of +that. Shall we try to get some lodging in an inn or farmhouse about the +Moor of Rannoch? Or will you try the islands--Jura, or Islay, or Mull?" + +She did not answer. She seemed to be in a dream. + +"Shall I tell you, Violet," he continued, gravely and gently, "why I +want you to come with us? I am anxious that you and I should be together +as long--as long as that is possible. One never knows what may happen, +and lately--well, we need not speak of it; but I don't wish us to be +parted, Violet." + +She burst into a violent fit of crying and sobbing. She had been +struggling bravely to repress this gathering emotion; but his direct +reference to the very thought that was overshadowing her mind was too +much for her. And along with this wild grief came as keen remorse, for +was this the conduct required of an attendant upon an invalid? + +"You must forgive me," she sobbed. "I don't know what it is--I have been +very nervous of late--and--and-----" + +"There is nothing to cry about, Violet," said he gently. "What is to be, +is to be. You have not lost your old courage! Only let us be together +while we can." + +"Oh, my love, my love!" she suddenly cried, taking his hand in both of +hers, and looking up to him with her piteous, tear-dimmed eyes; "we will +always be together! What is it that you say?--what is it that you mean? +Not that you are going away without me? I have courage for anything but +that. It does not matter what comes, only that I must go with you--we +two together!" + +"Hush, hush, Violet," said he soothingly, for he saw that the girl was +really beside herself with grief and apprehension. "Come, this is not +like the brave Violet of old. I thought there was nothing in all the +world you were afraid to face. Look up, now." + +She released his hand, and a strange expression came over her face. That +wild outburst had been an involuntary confession; now a great fear and +shame filled her heart that she should have been betrayed into it, and +in a despairing, pathetic fashion she tried to explain away her words. + +"We shall be together, shall we not?" she said, with an affected +cheerfulness, though she was still crying gently. "It does not matter +what part of the Highlands you go to--I will go with you. I must write +and explain to Mrs. Dowse. It would be a pity that we should separate so +soon, after that long time, would it not? And then the brisk air of the +hills, and of the yachting, will be better for you than the hot summer +here, won't it? And I am sure you will get very well there; that is just +the place for you to get strong; and when the time for the shooting +comes, we shall all go out, as we used to do, to see you missing every +bird that gets up." + +She tried to smile, but did not succeed very well. + +"And really it does not matter to me so very much what part we go to, +for, as you say, one ought to conquer these feelings, and if you prefer +Castle Bandbox, I will go there too--that is, I shall be very proud to +go if I am not in the way. And you know I am the only one who can make +cartridges for you." + +"I don't think I shall trouble the cartridges very much," said he, glad +to think she was becoming more cheerful. + +"Indeed," she continued, "I don't know what would have become of your +gun if I had not looked after it, for you only half cleaned it, and old +Peter would not touch it, and the way the sea air rusted the barrels was +quite remarkable. Will you have No. 3 or No. 4 shot this year for the +sea birds?" + +"Well," he answered gravely, "you see we shall have no yacht this year, +and probably no chances of wild duck at all; and it would scarcely be +worth while to make cartridges merely to fire away at these harmless and +useless sea pyots and things of that sort." + +"Oh, but my papa could easily get us a yacht," she said promptly; "he +would be delighted--I know he would be delighted. And I have been told +you can get a small yacht for about L40 a month, crew and everything +included, and what is that? Indeed, I think it is quite necessary you +should have a yacht." + +"Forty pounds," said he. "I think we could manage that. But then we +should deduct something from the wages of the crew on the strength of +our taking our own cook with us. Do you remember that cook? She had a +wonderful trick of making apricot jam puddings; how the dickens she +managed to get so much jam crammed in I never could make out. She was +just about as good at that as at making cartridges. Did you ever hear of +that cook?" + +By this time they had walked gently back to the carriage, and now Mrs. +Warrener and her daughter made their appearance. The elder woman noticed +something strange about Violet's expression, but she did not speak of +it, for surely the girl was happy enough? She was, indeed, quite merry. +She told Mrs. Warrener she was ready to go with them to the Highlands +whenever they chose. She proposed that this time they should go up the +Caledonian canal, and go down by Loch Maree, and then go out and visit +the western isles. She said the sooner they went the better; they would +get all the beautiful summer of the north; it was only the autumn +tourists who complained of the rain of the Highlands. + +"But we had little rain last autumn," said Mrs. Warrener. + +"Oh, very little indeed," said Violet, quite brightly; "we had charming +weather all through. I never enjoyed myself anywhere so much. I think +the sooner your brother gets up to the Highlands, the better it will do +him a world of good." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +DU SCHMERZENSREICHE! + + +So the long, silent, sunlit days passed, and it seemed to the three +patient watchers that the object of their care was slowly recovering +health and strength. But if they were all willing and eager to wait on +him, it was Violet who was his constant companion and friend, his +devoted attendant, his humble scholar. Sometimes when Mrs. Warrener's +heart grew sore within her to think of the wrong that had been wrought +in the past, the tender little woman tried to solace herself somewhat by +regarding these two as they now sat together--he the whimsical, +affectionate master, she the meek pupil and disciple, forgetting all the +proud dignity of her maidenhood, her fire, and audacity, and +independence, in the humility and self-surrender of her love. Surely, +she thought, this time was making up for much of the past. And if all +went well now, what had they to look forward to but a still closer +companionship in which the proud, and loyal, and fearless girl would +become the tender and obedient wife? There was no jealousy in the nature +of this woman. She would have laughed with joy if she could have heard +their marriage bells. + +And Violet, too, when the sun lay warm on the daisies and cowslips, when +the sweet winds blew the scent of the lilacs about, and when her master +and teacher grew strong enough to walk with her along the quiet woodland +ways--how could she fail to pick up some measure of cheerfulness and +hope? It almost seemed as if she had dropped into a new world; and it +was a beautiful world, full of tenderness, and laughter, and sunshine. +Henceforth there was to be no more George Miller to bother her; he had +gone clean out of existence as far as she was concerned; there was no +more skirmishing with Lady North; even the poor Dowses, with their +piteous loneliness and solemn house, were almost forgotten. Here was her +whole world. And when she noticed the increasing distances that he +walked, and the brighter look of his face, and the growing courage and +carelessness of his habits--then indeed the world became a beautiful +world to her, and she was almost inclined to fall in love with those +whirling and gleaming southern seas. + +It was in the black night-time, when all the household but herself were +asleep, that she paid the penalty of these transient joys. Haunted by +the one terrible fear, she could gain no rest; it was in vain that she +tried to reason with herself; her imagination was like some hideous +fiend continually whispering to her ear. Then she had no friend with +whom to share those terrible doubts; she dared not mention them to any +human soul. Why should she disturb the gentle confidence of his sister +and her daughter? She could not make them miserable merely to lift from +her own mind a portion of its anxiety. She could only lie awake, night +after night, and rack her brain with a thousand gloomy forebodings. She +recalled certain phrases he had used in moments of pathetic confidence. +She recalled the quick look of pain with which he sometimes paused in +the middle of his speech, the almost involuntary raising the hand to the +region of the heart, the passing pallor of the face. Had they seen none +of those things? Had they no wild, despairing thoughts about him? Was it +possible they could go peacefully to sleep with this dread thing hanging +over them, with a chance of awaking to a day of bitter anguish and +wild, heart-broken farewell? This cruel anxiety, kept all to herself, +was killing the girl. She grew restless and feverish; sometimes she sat +up half the night at the window listening to the moaning of the dark sea +outside; she became languid during the day, pale, and distraite. But it +was not to last long. + +One evening these two were together in the small parlor, he lying down, +she sitting near him with a book in her hand. The French windows were +open; they could hear Mrs. Warrener and her daughter talking in the +garden. And, strangely enough, the sick man's thoughts were once more +turned to the far Highlands, and to their life among the hills, and the +pleasant merry-making on board the Sea Pyot. + +"The air of this place does not agree with you at all, Violet," he was +saying. "You are not looking nearly so well as you did when we came +down. You are the only one who has not benefited by the change. Now that +won't do; we cannot have a succession of invalids--a Greek frieze of +patients, all carrying phials of medicine. We must get off to the +Highlands at once. What do you say--a fortnight hence?" + +She knelt down beside him, and took his hand, and said in a low voice-- + +"Do not be angry with me--it is very unreasonable, I know--but I have a +strange dread of the Highlands. I have dreamed so often lately of being +up there--and of being swept away on a dark sea--in the middle of the +night." + +She shuddered. He put his hand gently on her head. + +"There is no wonder you should dream of that," he said with a smile. +"That is only part of the story which you made us all believe. But we +have got a brighter finish for it now. You have not been overwhelmed in +that dark flood yet----" + +He paused. + +"Violet! My love!" he suddenly cried. + +He let go her hand, and made a wild grasp at his left breast; his face +grew white with pain. What made her instinctively throw her arms round +him, with terror in her eyes? + +"Violet! What is this? Kiss me!" + +It was but one second after that that a piercing shriek rang through the +place. The girl had sprung up like a deer shot through the heart; her +eyes dilated, her face wild and pale. Mrs. Warrener came running in; but +paused, and almost retreated in fear from the awful spectacle before +her; for the girl still held the dead man's hand, and she was laughing +merrily. The dark sea she had dreaded had overtaken her at last. + + * * * * * + +But one more scene--months afterward. It is the breakfast room in Lady +North's house in Euston Square; and Anatolia is sitting there alone. The +door opens, and a tall young girl, dressed in a white morning costume, +comes silently in; there is a strange and piteous look of trouble in her +dark eyes. Anatolia goes over to her, and takes her hand very tenderly, +and leads her to the easy-chair she had herself just quitted. + +"There is not any letter yet?" she asks, having looked all round the +table with a sad and wearied air. + +"No, dear, not yet," says Anatolia, who, unlovely though she may be, has +a sympathetic heart; and her lip trembles as she speaks. "You must be +patient, Violet." + +"It is another morning gone, and there is no letter, and I cannot +understand it," says the girl, apparently to herself, and then she +begins to cry silently, while her half-sister goes to her, and puts her +arm around her neck, and tries to soothe her. + +Lady North comes into the room. Some changes have happened within these +few months; it is "Mother" and "My child" now between the enemies of +yore. And as she bids Violet good morning, and gently kisses her, the +girl renews her complaint. + +"Mother, why do they keep back his letter? I know he must have written +to me long ago; and I cannot go to him until I get the letter! and he +will wonder why I am not coming. Morning after morning I listen for the +postman--I can hear him in the street from house to house--and they all +get their letters, but I don't get this one that is worth all the world +to me. And I never neglected anything that he said; and I was always +very obedient to him; and he will wonder now that I don't go to him, and +perhaps he will think that I am among my other friends now and have +forgotten---- No, he will not think that. I have not forgotten." + +"My child, you must not vex yourself," says Lady North with all the +tenderness of which she is capable--and Anatolia is bitterly crying all +the while. "It will be all right. And you must not look sad to-day; for +you know Mrs. Warrener and your friend Amy are coming to see you." + +She does not seem to pay much heed. + +"Shall we go for the flowers to-day?" she asks, with her dark wet eyes +raised for the first time. + +"My darling, this is not the day we go for the flowers; that is +to-morrow." + +"And what is the use of it?" she says, letting her head sink sadly +again. "Every time I go over to Nunhead I listen all by myself--and I +know he is not there at all. The flowers look pretty, because his name +is over them. But he is not there at all--he is far away--and he was to +send me a message--and every day I wait for it--and they keep the letter +back. Mother, are all my dresses ready?" + +"Yes, Violet." + +"You are quite sure!" + +"They are all ready, Violet. Don't trouble about that." + +"It is the white satin one he will like the best; and he will be pleased +that I am not in black like the others. Mother, Mrs. Warrener and Amy +surely cannot mean to come to the wedding in black." + +"Surely not, Violet. But come, dear, to your breakfast." + +She took her place quite calmly and humbly; but her mind was still +wandering toward that picture. + +"I hope they will strew the church-yard with flowers as we pass through +it--not for me, but for him; for he will be pleased with that; and there +is more than all that is in the Prayer-book that I will promise to be to +him, when we two are kneeling together. You are quite sure everything is +ready?" + +"Everything, my darling." + +"And you think the message from him will come soon now?" + +"I think it will come soon now, Violet," was the answer, given with +trembling lips. + + THE END. + + * * * * * + +And now to you--you whose names are written in these blurred pages, some +portion of whose lives I have tried to trace with a wandering and +uncertain pen--I stretch out a hand of farewell. Yet not quite of +farewell, perhaps: for amid all the shapes and phantoms of this world of +mystery, where the shadows we meet can tell us neither whence they came +nor whither they go, surely you have for me a no less substantial +existence that may have its chances in the time to come. To me you are +more real than most I know: what wonder then if I were to meet you on +the threshold of the great unknown, you all shining with a new light on +your face? Trembling, I stretch out my hands to you, for your silence is +awful, and there is sadness in your eyes; but the day may come when you +will speak, and I shall hear--and understand. + + + + +JULIET ON THE BALCONY. + + + O lips that are so lonely + For want of his caress; + O heart that art too faithful + To ever love him less; + O eyes that find no sweetness + For hunger of his face; + O hands that long to feel him, + Always, in every place! + + My spirit leans and listens, + But only hears his name, + And thought to thought leaps onward + As flame leaps unto flame; + And all kin to each other + As any brood of flowers, + Or these sweet winds of night, love, + That fan the fainting hours! + + My spirit leans and listens, + My heart stands up and cries, + And only one sweet vision + Comes ever to my eyes. + So near and yet so far, love, + So dear, yet out of reach, + So like some distant star, love, + Unnamed in human speech! + + My spirit leans and listens, + My heart goes out to him, + Through all the long night watches, + Until the dawning dim; + My spirit leans and listens, + What if, across the night, + His strong heart send a message + To flood me with delight? + + HOWARD GLYNDON. + + + + +OUR RURAL DIVINITY. + + +I wonder that Wilson Flagg did not include the cow among his +"Picturesque Animals," for that is where she belongs. She has not the +classic beauty of the horse, but in picture-making qualities she is far +ahead of him. Her shaggy, loose-jointed body, her irregular, sketchy +outlines, like those of the landscape--the hollows and ridges, the +slopes and prominences--her tossing horns, her bushy tail, her swinging +gait, her tranquil, ruminating habits--all tend to make her an object +upon which the artist eye loves to dwell. The artists are for ever +putting her into pictures too. In rural landscape scenes she is an +important feature. Behold her grazing in the pastures and on the hill +sides, or along banks of streams, or ruminating under wide-spreading +trees, or standing belly deep in the creek or pond, or lying upon the +smooth places in the quiet summer afternoon, the day's grazing done, and +waiting to be summoned home to be milked; and again in the twilight +lying upon the level summit of the hill, or where the sward is thickest +and softest; or in winter a herd of them filing along toward the spring +to drink, or being "foddered" from the stack in the field upon the new +snow--surely the cow is a picturesque animal, and all her goings and +comings are pleasant to behold. + +I looked into Hamerton's clever book on the domestic animals, also +expecting to find my divinity duly celebrated, but he passes her by and +contemplates the bovine qualities only as they appear in the ox and the +bull. + +Neither have the poets made much of the cow, but have rather dwelt upon +the steer, or the ox yoked to the plough. I recall this touch from +Emerson: + + The heifer that lows in the upland farm, + Far heard, lows not thine ear to charm. + +But the ear is charmed nevertheless, especially if it be not too near, +and the air be still and dense, or hollow, as the farmer says. And +again, if it be spring time and she task that powerful bellows of hers +to its utmost capacity, how round the sound is, and how far it goes over +the hills. + +The cow has at least four tones or lows. First, there is her alarmed or +distressed low, when deprived of her calf, or separated from her +mates--her low of affection. Then there is her call of hunger, a +petition for food, sometimes full of impatience, or her answer to the +farmer's call, full of eagerness. Then there is that peculiar frenzied +bawl she utters on smelling blood, which causes every member of the herd +to lift its head and hasten to the spot--the native cry of the clan. +When she is gored or in great danger she bawls also, but that is +different. And lastly, there is the long, sonorous volley she lets off +on the hills or in the yard, or along the highway, and which seems to be +expressive of a kind of unrest and vague longing--the longing of the +imprisoned Io for her lost identity. She sends her voice forth so that +every god on Mount Olympus can hear her plaint. She makes this sound in +the morning, especially in the spring, as she goes forth to graze. + +One of our rural poets, Myron Benton, whose verse often has the flavor +of sweet cream, has written some lines called "Rumination," in which the +cow is the principal figure, and with which I am permitted to adorn my +theme. The poet first gives his attention to a little brook that "breaks +its shallow gossip" at his feet and "drowns the oriole's voice": + + But moveth not that wise and ancient cow, + Who chews her juicy cud so languid now + Beneath her favorite elm, whose drooping bough + Lulls all but inward vision, fast asleep: + But still, her tireless tail a pendulum sweep + Mysterious clockwork guides, and some hid pulley + Her drowsy cud, each moment, raises duly. + + Of this great, wondrous world she has seen more + Than you, my little brook, and cropped its store + Of succulent grass on many a mead and lawn; + And strayed to distant uplands in the dawn. + And she has had some dark experience + Of graceless man's ingratitude; and hence + Her ways have not been ways of pleasantness, + Nor all her paths of peace. But her distress + And grief she has lived past; your giddy round + Disturbs her not, for she is learned profound + In deep brahminical philosophy. + She chews the cud of sweetest revery + Above your worldly prattle, brooklet merry, + Oblivious of all things sublunary. + +The cow figures in Grecian mythology, and in the Oriental literature is +treated as a sacred animal. "The clouds are cows and the rain milk." I +remember what Herodotus says of the Egyptians' worship of heifers and +steers; and in the traditions of the Celtic nations the cow is regarded +as a divinity. In Norse mythology the milk of the cow Andhumbla afforded +nourishment to the Frost giants, and it was she that licked into being +and into shape a god, the father of Odin. If anything could lick a god +into shape, certainly the cow could do it. You may see her perform this +office for young Taurus any spring. She licks him out of the fogs and +bewilderments and uncertainties in which he finds himself on first +landing upon these shores, and up on to his feet in an incredibly short +time. Indeed, that potent tongue of hers can almost make the dead alive +any day, and the creative lick of the old Scandinavian mother cow is +only a large-lettered rendering of the commonest facts. + +The horse belongs to the fiery god Mars. He favors war, and is one of +its oldest, most available, and most formidable engines. The steed is +clothed with thunder, and smells the battle from afar; but the cattle +upon a thousand hills denote that peace and plenty bear sway in the +land. The neighing of the horse is a call to battle; but the lowing of +old Brockleface in the valley brings the golden age again. The savage +tribes are never without the horse; the Scythians are all mounted; but +the cow would tame and humanize them. When the Indians will cultivate +the cow, I shall think their civilization fairly begun. Recently, when +the horses were sick with the epizooetic, and the oxen came to the city +and helped to do their work, what an Arcadian air again filled the +streets. But the dear old oxen--how awkward and distressed they looked! +Juno wept in the face of every one of them. The horse is a true citizen, +and is entirely at home in the paved streets; but the ox--what a +complete embodiment of all rustic and rural things! Slow, deliberate, +thick-skinned, powerful, hulky, ruminating, fragrant-breathed, when he +came to town the spirit and suggestion of all Georgics and Bucolics came +with him. Oh, citizen, was it only a plodding, unsightly brute that went +by? Was there no chord in your bosom, long silent, that sweetly vibrated +at the sight of that patient, Herculean couple? Did you smell no hay or +cropped herbage, see no summer pastures with circles of cool shade, hear +no voice of herds among the hills? They were very likely the only horses +your grandfather ever had. Not much trouble to harness and unharness +them. Not much vanity on the road in those days. They did all the work +on the early pioneer farm. They were the gods whose rude strength first +broke the soil. They could live where the moose and the deer could. If +there was no clover or timothy to be had, then the twigs of the basswood +and birch would do. Before there were yet fields given up to grass, they +found ample pasturage in the woods. Their wide-spreading horns gleamed +in the duskiness, and their paths and the paths of the cows became the +future roads and highways, or even the streets of great cities. + +All the descendants of Odin show a bovine trace, and cherish and +cultivate the cow. What were those old Vikings but thick-hided bulls +that delighted in nothing so much as goring each other? And has not the +charge of beefiness been brought much nearer home to us than that? But +about all the northern races there is something that is kindred to +cattle in the best sense--something in their art and literature that is +essentially pastoral, sweet-breathed, continent, dispassionate, +ruminating, wide-eyed, soft-voiced--a charm of kine, the virtue of +brutes. + +The cow belongs more especially to the northern peoples, to the region +of the good, green grass. She is the true _grazing_ animal. That broad, +smooth, always dewy nose of hers is just the suggestion of green sward. +She caresses the grass; she sweeps off the ends of the leaves; she reaps +it with the soft sickle of her tongue. She crops close, but she does not +bruise or devour the turf like the horse. She is the sward's best +friend, and will make it thick and smooth as a carpet. + + The turfy mountains where live the nibbling sheep + +are not for her. Her muzzle is too blunt; then she does not _bite_ as do +the sheep; she has not upper teeth; she _crops_. But on the lower +slopes, and margins, and rich bottoms, she is at home. Where the daisy +and the buttercup and clover bloom, and where corn will grow, is her +proper domain. The agriculture of no country can long thrive without +her. Not only a large part of the real, but much of the potential wealth +of the land is wrapped up in her. + +What a variety of individualities a herd of cows presents when you have +come to know them all, not only in form and color, but in manners and +disposition. Some are timid and awkward and the butt of the whole herd. +Some remind you of deer. Some have an expression in the face like +certain persons you have known. A petted and well-fed cow has a +benevolent and gracious look; an ill-used and poorly-fed one a pitiful +and forlorn look. Some cows have a masculine or ox expression; others +are extremely feminine. The latter are the ones for milk. Some cows will +kick like a horse; some jump fences like deer. Every herd has its +ringleader, its unruly spirit--one that plans all the mischief and leads +the rest through the fences into the grain or into the orchard. This one +is usually quite different from the master spirit, the "boss of the +yard." The latter is generally the most peaceful and law-abiding cow in +the lot, and the least bullying and quarrelsome. But she is not to be +trifled with; her will is law; the whole herd give way before her, those +that have crossed horns with her, and those that have not, but yielded +their allegiance without crossing. I remember such a one among my +father's milkers when I was a boy--a slender-horned, deep-shouldered, +large-uddered, dewlapped old cow that we always put first in the long +stable so she could not have a cow on each side of her to forage upon; +for the master is yielded to no less in the stancheons than in the yard. +She always had the first place anywhere. She had her choice of standing +room in the milking yard, and when she wanted to lie down there or in +the fields the best and softest spot was hers. When the herd were +foddered from the stack or barn, or fed with pumpkins in the fall, she +was always first served. Her demeanor was quiet but impressive. She +never bullied or gored her mates, but literally ruled them with the +breath of her nostrils. If any newcomer or ambitious younger cow, +however, chafed under her supremacy, she was ever ready to make good her +claims. And with what spirit she would fight when openly challenged! She +was a whirlwind of pluck and valor; and not after one defeat or two +defeats would she yield the championship. The boss cow, when overcome, +seems to brood over her disgrace, and day after day will meet her rival +in fierce combat. + +A friend of mine, a pastoral philosopher, whom I have consulted in +regard to the master cow, thinks it is seldom the case that one rules +all the herd, if it number many, but that there is often one that will +rule nearly all. "Curiously enough," he says, "a case like this will +often occur: No. 1 will whip No. 2; No. 2 whips No. 3; and No. 3 whips +No. 1; so around in a circle. This is not a mistake; it is often the +case. I remember," he continued, "we once had feeding out of a large bin +in the centre of the yard six oxen who mastered right through in +succession from No. 1 to No. 6; _but No. 6 paid off the score by +whipping No. 1_. I often watched them when they were all trying to feed +out of the box, and of course trying, dog-in-the-manger fashion, each to +prevent any other he could. They would often get in the order to do it +very systematically, since they could keep rotating about the box till +the chain happened to get broken somewhere, when there would be +confusion. Their mastership, you know, like that between nations, is +constantly changing. But there are always Napoleons who hold their own +through many vicissitudes; but the ordinary cow is continually liable to +lose her foothold. Some cow she has always despised, and has often sent +tossing across the yard at her horns' ends, some pleasant morning will +return the compliment and pay off old scores." + +But my own observation has been that in herds in which there have been +no important changes for several years, the question of might gets +pretty well settled, and some one cow becomes the acknowledged ruler. + +The bully of the yard is never the master, but usually a second or +third-rate pusher that never loses an opportunity to hook those beneath +her, or to gore the masters if she can get them in a tight place. If +such a one can get loose in the stable, she is quite certain to do +mischief. She delights to pause in the open bars and turn and keep those +at bay behind her till she sees a pair of threatening horns pressing +toward her, when she quickly passes on. As one cow masters all, so there +is one cow that is mastered by all. These are the two extremes of the +herd, the head and the tail. Between them are all grades of authority, +with none so poor but hath some poorer to do her reverence. + +The cow has evidently come down to us from a wild or semi-wild state; +perhaps is a descendant of those wild, shaggy cattle of which a small +band still exists in the forests of Scotland. Cuvier seems to have been +of this opinion. One of the ways in which her wild instincts still crop +out is the disposition she shows in spring to hide her calf--a common +practice among the wild herds. Her wild nature would be likely to come +to the surface at this crisis if ever; and I have known cows that +practised great secrecy in dropping their calves. As their time +approached they grew restless, a wild and excited look was upon them, +and if left free, they generally set out for the woods or for some other +secluded spot. After the calf is several hours old, and has got upon its +feet and had its first meal, the dam by some sign commands it to lie +down and remain quiet while she goes forth to feed. If the calf is +approached at such time, it plays "'possum," assumes to be dead or +asleep, till on finding this ruse does not succeed, it mounts to its +feet, bleats loudly and fiercely, and charges desperately upon the +intruder. But it recovers from this wild scare in a little while, and +never shows signs of it again. + +The habit of the cow, also, in eating the placenta, looks to me like a +vestige of her former wild instincts--the instinct to remove everything +that would give the wild beasts a clue or a scent, and so attract them +to her helpless young. + +How wise and sagacious the cows become that run upon the street, or pick +their living along the highway. The mystery of gates and bars is at last +solved to them. They ponder over them by night, they lurk about them by +day, till they acquire a new sense--till they become _en rapport_ with +them and know when they are open and unguarded. The garden gate, if it +open into the highway at any point, is never out of the mind of these +roadsters, or out of their calculations. They calculate upon the chances +of its being left open a certain number of times in the season; and if +it be but once and only for five minutes, your cabbage and sweet corn +suffer. What villager, or countryman either, has not been awakened at +night by the squeaking and crunching of those piratical jaws under the +window or in the direction of the vegetable patch? I have had the cows, +after they had eaten up my garden, break into the stable where my own +milcher was tied, and gore her and devour her meal. Yes, life presents +but one absorbing problem to the street cow, and that is how to get into +your garden. She catches glimpses of it over the fence or through the +pickets, and her imagination or epigastrium is inflamed. When the spot +is surrounded by a high board fence, I think I have seen her peeping at +the cabbages through a knot-hole. At last she learns to open the gate. +It is a great triumph of bovine wit. She does it with her horn or her +nose, or may be with her ever ready tongue. I doubt if she has ever yet +penetrated the mystery of the newer patent fastenings; but the +old-fashioned thumb-latch she can see through, give her time enough. + +A large, lank, muley or polled cow used to annoy me in this way when I +was a dweller in a certain pastoral city. I more than half suspected she +was turned in by some one; so one day I watched. Presently I heard the +gate-latch rattle; the gate swung open, and in walked the old buffalo. +On seeing me she turned and ran like a horse. I then fastened the gate +on the inside and watched again. After long waiting the old cow came +quickly round the corner and approached the gate. She lifted the latch +with her nose. Then, as the gate did not move, she lifted it again and +again. Then she gently nudged it. Then, the obtuse gate not taking the +hint, she butted it gently, then harder and still harder, till it +rattled again. At this juncture I emerged from my hiding place, when +the old villain scampered off with great precipitation. She knew she was +trespassing, and she had learned that there were usually some swift +penalties attached to this pastime. + +I have owned but three cows and loved but one. That was the first one, +Chloe, a bright red, curly-pated, golden-skinned Devonshire cow, that an +ocean steamer landed for me upon the banks of the Potomac one bright May +day many clover summers ago. She came from the north, from the pastoral +regions of the Catskills, to graze upon the broad commons of the +national capital. I was then the fortunate and happy lessee of an old +place with an acre of ground attached, almost within the shadow of the +dome of the capitol. Behind a high but aged and decrepit board fence I +indulged my rural and unclerical tastes. I could look up from my homely +tasks and cast a potato almost in the midst of that cataract of marble +steps that flows out of the north wing of the patriotic pile. Ah, when +that creaking and sagging back gate closed behind me in the evening, I +was happy; and when it opened for my egress thence in the morning, I was +not happy. Inside that gate was a miniature farm redolent of homely, +primitive life, a tumble-down house and stables and implements of +agriculture and horticulture, broods of chickens, and growing pumpkins, +and a thousand antidotes to the weariness of an artificial life. Outside +of it were the marble and iron palaces, the paved and blistering +streets, and the high, vacant, mahogany desk of a government clerk. In +that ancient enclosure I took an earth bath twice a day. I planted +myself as deep in the soil as I could to restore the normal tone and +freshness of my system, impaired by the above mentioned government +mahogany. I have found there is nothing like the earth to draw the +various social distempers out of one. The blue devils take flight at +once if they see you mean to bury them and make compost of them. +Emerson intimates that the scholar had better not try to have two +gardens; but I could never spend an hour hoeing up dock and red-root and +twitch grass without in some way getting rid of many weeds and fungus, +unwholesome growths that a petty, in-doors life was for ever fostering +in my own moral and intellectual nature. + +But the finishing touch was not given till Chloe came. She was the jewel +for which this homely setting waited. My agriculture had some object +then. The old gate never opened with such alacrity as when she paused +before it. How we waited for her coming! Should I send Drewer, the +colored patriarch, for her? No; the master of the house himself should +receive Juno at the capital. + +"One cask for you," said the clerk, referring to the steamer bill of +lading. + +"Then I hope it's a cask of milk," I said. "I expected a cow." + +"One cask it says here." + +"Well, let's see it; I'll warrant it has horns and is tied by a rope"; +which proved to be the case, for there stood the only object that bore +my name, chewing its cud, on the forward deck. How she liked the voyage +I could not find out; but she seemed to relish so much the feeling of +solid ground beneath her feet once more that she led me a lively step +all the way home. She cut capers in front of the White House, and tried +twice to wind me up in the rope as we passed the Treasury. She kicked up +her heels on the broad avenue and became very coltish as she came under +the walls of the capitol. But that night the long-vacant stall in the +old stable was filled, and the next morning the coffee had met with a +change of heart. I had to go out twice with the lantern and survey my +treasure before I went to bed. Did she not come from the delectable +mountains, and did I not have a sort of filial regard for her as toward +my foster mother? + +This was during the Arcadian age at the capital, before the easy-going +southern ways had gone out and the prim new northern ways had come in, +and when the domestic animals were treated with distinguished +consideration and granted the freedom of the city. There was a charm of +cattle in the streets and upon the commons: goats cropped your rose +bushes through the pickets, and nooned upon your front porch, and pigs +dreamed Arcadian dreams under your garden fence or languidly frescoed it +with pigments from the nearest pool. It was a time of peace; it was the +poor man's golden age. Your cow, or your goat, or your pig led a +vagrant, wandering life, and picked up a subsistence wherever they +could, like the bees, which was almost everywhere. Your cow went forth +in the morning and came home fraught with milk at night, and you never +troubled yourself where she went or how far she roamed. + +Chloe took very naturally to this kind of life. At first I had to go +with her a few times and pilot her to the nearest commons, and then left +her to her own wit, which never failed her. What adventures she had, +what acquaintances she made, how far she wandered, I never knew. I never +came across her in my walks or rambles. Indeed, on several occasions I +thought I would look her up and see her feeding in the national +pastures, but I never could find her. There were plenty of cows, but +they were all strangers. But punctually, between four and five o'clock +in the afternoon, her white horns would be seen tossing above the gate +and her impatient low be heard. Sometimes, when I turned her forth in +the morning, she would pause and apparently consider which way she would +go. Should she go toward Kendall Green to-day, or follow the Tiber, or +over by the Big Spring, or out around Lincoln Hospital? She seldom +reached a conclusion till she had stretched forth her neck and blown a +blast on her trumpet that awoke the echoes in the very lantern on the +dome of the capitol. Then, after one or two licks, she would disappear +around the corner. Later in the season, when the grass was parched or +poor on the commons, and the corn and cabbage tempting in the garden, +Chloe was loth to depart in the morning, and her deliberations were +longer than ever, and very often I had to aid her in coming to a +decision. + +For two summers she was a well-spring of pleasure and profit in my farm +of one acre, when in an evil moment I resolved to part with her and try +another. In an evil moment I say, for from that time my luck in cattle +left me. Juno never forgave me the execution of that rash and cruel +resolve. + +The day is indellibly stamped on my memory when I exposed my Chloe for +sale in the public market place. It was in November, a bright, dreamy, +Indian summer day. A sadness oppressed me, not unmixed with guilt and +remorse. An old Irish woman came to the market also with her pets to +sell, a sow and five pigs, and took up a position next me. We condoled +with each other; we bewailed the fate of our darlings together; we +berated in chorus the white-aproned but bloodstained fraternity who +prowled about us. When she went away for a moment I minded the pigs, and +when I strolled about she minded my cow. How shy the innocent beast was +of those carnal market men. How she would shrink away from them. When +they put out a hand to feel her condition she would "scrooch" down her +back, or bend this way or that, as if the hand were a branding iron. So +long as I stood by her head she felt safe--deluded creature--and chewed +the cud of sweet content; but the moment I left her side she seemed +filled with apprehension, and followed me with her eyes, lowing softly +and entreatingly till I returned. + +At last the money was counted out for her, and her rope surrendered to +the hand of another. How that last look of alarm and incredulity, which +I caught as I turned for a parting glance, went to my heart! + +Her stall was soon filled, or partly filled, and this time with a +native--a specimen of what may be called the cornstalk breed of +Virginia: a slender, furtive, long-geared heifer just verging on +cowhood, that in spite of my best efforts would wear a pinched and +hungry look. She evidently inherited a humped back. It was a family +trait, and evidence of the purity of her blood. For the native blooded +cow of Virginia, from shivering over half rations of corn stalks, in the +open air, during those bleak and windy winters, and roaming over those +parched fields in summer, has come to have some marked features. For one +thing, her pedal extremities seemed lengthened; for another, her udder +does not impede her travelling; for a third, her backbone inclines +strongly to the curve; then, she despiseth hay. This last is a sure +test. Offer a thorough-bred Virginia cow hay, and she will laugh in your +face; but rattle the husks or shucks, and she knows you to be her +friend. + +The new comer even declined corn meal at first. She eyed it furtively, +then sniffed it suspiciously, but finally discovered that it bore some +relation to her native "shucks," when she fell to eagerly. + +I cherish the memory of this cow, however, as the most affectionate +brute I ever knew. Being deprived of her calf, she transferred her +affections to her master, and would fain have made a calf of him, lowing +in the most piteous and inconsolable manner when he was out of her +sight, hardly forgetting her grief long enough to eat her meal, and +entirely neglecting her beloved husks. Often in the middle of the night +she would set up that sonorous lamentation and continue it till sleep +was chased from every eye in the household. This generally had the +effect of bringing the object of her affection before her, but in a mood +anything but filial or comforting. Still, at such times a kick seemed a +comfort to her, and she would gladly have kissed the rod that was the +instrument of my midnight wrath. + +But her tender star was destined soon to a fatal eclipse. Being tied +with too long a rope on one occasion during my temporary absence, she +got her head into the meal barrel, and stopped not till she had devoured +nearly half a bushel of dry meal. The singularly placid and benevolent +look that beamed from the meal-besmeared face when I discovered her was +something to be remembered. For the first time also her spinal column +came near assuming a horizontal line. + +But the grist proved too much for her frail mill, and her demise took +place on the third day, not of course without some attempt to relieve +her on my part. I gave her, as is usual in such emergencies, everything +I "could think of" and everything my neighbors could think of, besides +some fearful prescriptions which I obtained from a German veterinary +surgeon, but to no purpose. I imagined her poor maw distended and +inflamed with the baking sodden mass which no physic could penetrate or +enliven. + +Thus ended my second venture in live stock. My third, which followed +sharp upon the heels of this disaster, was scarcely more of a success. +This time I led to the altar a buffalo cow, as they call the "mully" +down south--a large, spotted, creamy-skinned cow, with a fine udder, +that I persuaded a Jew drover to part with for ninety dollars. "Pag like +a dish rack (rag)," said he, pointing to her udder after she had been +milked. "You vill come pack and gif me the udder ten tollars" (for he +had demanded an even hundred), he continued, "after you have had her a +gouple of days." True I felt like returning to him after a "gouple of +days," but not to pay the other ten dollars. The cow proved to be as +blind as a bat, though capable of counterfeiting the act of seeing to +perfection. For did she not lift up her head and follow with her eyes a +dog that scaled the fence and ran through the other end of the lot, and +the next moment dash my hopes thus raised by trying to walk over a +locust tree thirty feet high? And when I set the bucket before her +containing her first mess of meal, she missed it by several inches, and +her nose brought up against the ground. Was it a kind of far-sightedness +and near blindness? That was it, I think; she had genius, but not +talent; she could see the man in the moon, but was quite oblivious to +the man immediately in her front. Her eyes were telescopic and required +a long range. + +As long as I kept her in the stall, or confined to the enclosure, this +strange eclipse of her sight was of little consequence. But when spring +came, and it was time for her to go forth and seek her livelihood in the +city's waste places, I was embarrassed. Into what remote corners or into +what _terra incognita_ might she not wander! There was little doubt but +she would drift around home in the course of the summer, or perhaps as +often as every week or two; but could she be trusted to find her way +back every night? Perhaps she could be taught. Perhaps her other senses +were acute enough to in a measure compensate her for her defective +vision. So I gave her lessons in the topography of the country. I led +her forth to graze for a few hours each day and led her home again. Then +I left her to come home alone, which feat she accomplished very +encouragingly. She came feeling her way along, stepping very high, but +apparently a most diligent and interested sightseer. But she was not +sure of the right house when she got to it, though she stared at it very +hard. + +Again I turned her forth, and again she came back, her telescopic eyes +apparently of some service to her. On the third day there was a fierce +thunderstorm late in the afternoon, and old buffalo did not come home. +It had evidently scattered and bewildered what little wit she had. Being +barely able to navigate those straits on a calm day, what could she be +expected to do in a tempest? + +After the storm had passed, and near sundown, I set out in quest of her, +but could get no clue. I heard that two cows had been struck by +lightning about a mile out on the commons. My conscience instantly told +me that one of them was mine. It would be a fit closing of the third act +of this pastoral drama. Thitherward I bent my steps, and there upon the +smooth plain I beheld the scorched and swollen forms of two cows slain +by thunderbolts, but neither of them had ever been mine. + +The next day I continued the search, and the next, and the next. Finally +I hoisted an umbrella over my head, for the weather had become hot, and +set out deliberately and systematically to explore every foot of open +common on Capitol hill. I tramped many miles, and found every man's cow +but my own--some twelve or fifteen hundred, I should think. I saw many +vagrant boys and Irish and colored women, nearly all of whom had seen a +buffalo cow that very day that answered exactly to my description, but +in such diverse and widely separate places that I knew it was no cow of +mine. And it was astonishing how many times I was myself deceived; how +many rumps or heads, or liver backs or white flanks I saw peeping over +knolls or from behind fences or other objects that could belong to no +cow but mine! + +Finally I gave up the search, concluded the cow had been stolen, and +advertised her, offering a reward. But days passed, and no tidings were +obtained. Hope began to burn pretty low--was indeed on the point of +going out altogether, when one afternoon, as I was strolling over the +commons (for in my walks I still hovered about the scenes of my lost +milcher), I saw the rump of a cow, over a grassy knoll, that looked +familiar. Coming nearer, the beast lifted up her head; and, behold! it +was she! only a few squares from home, where doubtless she had been most +of the time. I had overshot the mark in my search. I had ransacked the +far-off, and had neglected the near-at-hand, as we are so apt to do. But +she was ruined as a milcher, and her history thenceforward was brief and +touching! + + JOHN BURROUGHS. + + + + +LOVE'S MESSENGERS. + + + Who will tell him? Who will teach him? + Have you voices, merry birds? + Then be voice for me, and reach him + With a thousand pleading words. + Sing my secret, east and west, + Till his answer be confessed! + + Roses, when you see him coming, + Light of heart and strong of limb, + Make your lover-bees stop humming; + Turn your blushes round to him-- + Blush, dear flowers, that he may learn, + How a woman's heart can burn! + + Wind--oh, wind--you happy rover! + Oh that I were half as free-- + Leave your honey-bells and clover, + Go and seek my love for me. + Find, kiss, clasp him, make him know + It is _I_ who love him so! + + MARY AINGE DE VERE. + + + + +THE HEAD OF HERCULES. + + +One of the most curious cases that ever came under my notice in a long +course of criminal practice was not brought into any court, and, as I +believe, has never been published until now. The details of the affair +came under my personal cognizance in the following manner: + +In 1858 I went down into the Shenandoah valley to spend my summer +vacation among the innumerable Pages, Marshalls, and Cookes who all +hailed me as cousin, by right of traditional intermarriages generations +back. My first visit was to the house of McCormack Beardsley, a kinsman +and school-fellow whom I had not seen since we parted at the university +twenty years before. + +We were both gray-haired old fellows now, but I had grown thin and sharp +in the courts of Baltimore and Washington, while he had lived quietly on +his plantation, more fat and jovial and genial with every year. + +Beardsley possessed large means then, and maintained the unlimited +hospitality usual among large Virginia planters before the war. The +house was crowded during my stay with my old friends from the valley and +southern countries. His daughter, too, was not only a beauty, but a +favorite among the young people, and brought many attractive, well-bred +girls about her, and young men who were not so attractive or well bred. +Lack of occupation and a definite career had reduced the sons of too +many Virginia families at that time to cards and horses as their sole +pursuits; the war, while it left them penniless, was in one sense their +salvation. + +One evening, sitting on the verandah with Beardsley, smoking, and +looking in the open windows of the parlor, I noticed a woman who sat a +little apart, and who, as I fancied, was avoided by the younger girls. +In a Virginia country party there are always two or three unmarried +women, past their first youth, with merry blue eyes, brown hair, and +delicate features--women "with a history," but who are none the less +good dancers, riders, and able to put all their cleverness into the +making of a pie or a match for their cousins. This woman was blue-eyed +and brown-haired, but she had none of the neat, wide-awake +self-possession of her class. She had a more childish expression, and +spoke with a more timid uncertainty, than even Lotty Beardsley, who was +still in the schoolroom. I called my host's attention to her and asked +who she was. + +"It is the daughter of my cousin, General George Waring. You remember +him surely--of the Henrico branch of Warings?" + +"Certainly. But he had only one child--Louisa; and I remember receiving +an invitation to her wedding years ago." + +"Yes. This is Louisa. The wedding never took place. It's an odd story," +he said, after a pause, "and the truth is, Floyd, I brought the girl +here while you were with us in the hope that you, with your legal +acumen, could solve the mystery that surrounds her. I'll give the facts +to you to-morrow--it's impossible to do it now. But tell me, in the mean +time, how she impresses you, looking at her as a lawyer would at a +client, or a--a prisoner on trial. Do you observe anything peculiar in +her face or manner?" + +"I observed a very peculiar manner in all those about her--an effort at +cordiality in which they did not succeed; a certain constraint in look +and tone while speaking to her. I even saw it in yourself just now as +soon as you mentioned her name." + +"You did? I'm sorry for that--exceedingly sorry!" anxiously. "I believe +in Louisa Waring's innocence as I do in that of my own child; and if I +thought she was hurt or neglected in this house---- But there's a cloud +on the girl, Floyd--that's a fact. It don't amount even to suspicion. If +it did, one could argue it down. But----Well, what do you make of +her--her face now?" + +"It is not an especially clever face, nor one that indicates power of +any kind; not the face of a woman who of her own will would be the +heroine of any remarkable story. I should judge her to have been a few +years ago one of the sensible, light-hearted, sweet-tempered girls of +whom there are so many in Virginia; a nice housekeeper, and one who +would have made a tender wife and mother." + +"Well, well? Nothing more?" + +"Yes. She has not matured into womanhood as such girls do. She looks as +if her growth in every-day experiences had stopped years ago; that while +her body grew older her mind had halted, immature, incomplete. A great +grief might have had that effect, or the absorption of all her faculties +by one sudden, mastering idea." + +"You are a little too metaphysical for me," said Beardsley. "Poor Lou +isn't shrewd by any means, and always gives me the feeling that she +needs care and protection more than most women, if that is what you +mean." + +"There is a singular expression in her face at times," I resumed. + +"Ah! Now you have it!" he muttered. + +"Sitting there in your parlor, where there is certainly nothing to +dread, she has glanced behind and about her again and again, as though +she heard a sound that frightened her. I observe, too, that when any man +speaks to her she fixes on him a keen, suspicious look. She does not +have it with women. It passes quickly, but it is there. It is precisely +the expression of an insane person, or a guilty one dreading arrest." + +"You are a close observer, Floyd. I told my wife that we could not do +better than submit the whole case to your judgment. We are all Lou's +friends in the neighborhood; but we cannot look at the matter with your +legal experience and unprejudiced eyes. Come, let us go into supper +now." + +The next morning I was summoned to Beardsley's "study" (so called +probably from the total absence of either book or newspaper), and found +himself and his wife awaiting me, and also a Doctor Scheffer, whom I had +previously noticed among the guests--a gaunt, hectic young man, +apparently on the high road to death, the victim of an incurable +consumption. + +"I asked William Scheffer to meet us here," said Mr. Beardsley, "as +Louisa Waring was an inmate of his father's house at the time of the +occurrence. She and William were children and playmates together. I +believe I am right, William. You knew all the circumstances of that +terrible night?" + +The young man's heavy face changed painfully. "Yes; as much as was known +to any one but Louisa, and--the guilty man, whoever he was. But why are +you dragging out that wretched affair?" turning angrily on Mrs. +Beardsley. "Surely any friend of Miss Waring's would try to bury the +past for her!" + +"No," said the lady calmly. "It has been buried quite too long, in my +opinion; for she has carried her burden for six years. It is time now +that we should try to lift it for her. You are sitting in a draught, +William. Sit on this sofa." + +Scheffer, coughing frightfully, and complaining with all the testiness +of a long-humored invalid, was disposed of at last, and Beardsley began: + +"The story is briefly this. Louisa, before her father's death, was +engaged to be married to Colonel Paul Merrick (Merricks of Clarke +county, you know). The wedding was postponed for a year when General +Waring died, and Louisa went to her uncle's--your father, William--to +live during that time. When the year was over, every preparation was +made for the marriage: invitations were sent to all the kinsfolk on both +sides (and that included three or four counties on a rough guess), and +we--the immediate family--were assembled at Major Scheffer's preparing +for the grand event, when----" Beardsley became now excessively hot and +flurried, and getting up, thumped heavily up and down the room. + +"After all, there is nothing to tell. Why should we bring in a famous +lawyer to sit in judgment on her as if the girl were a criminal? She +only did, Floyd, what women have done since the beginning--changed her +mind without reason. Paul Merrick was as clever and lovable a young +fellow as you would find in the State, and Louisa was faithful to +him--she's faithful to him yet; but on the night before the wedding she +refused to marry him, and has persisted in the refusal ever since, +without assigning a cause." + +"Is that all of the story?" I asked. + +Beardsley was silent. + +"No," said his wife gently; "that is not all. I thought McCormack's +courage would fail before he gave you the facts. I shall try and tell +you----" + +"Only the facts, if you please, without any inferences or opinions of +others." + +The old lady paused for a moment, and then began: "A couple of days +before the wedding we went over to Major Scheffer's to help prepare for +it. You know we have no restaurateurs nor confectioners to depend upon, +and such occasions are busy seasons. The gentlemen played whist, rode +about the plantation, or tried the Major's wines, while indoors we, all +of us--married ladies and girls and a dozen old aunties--were at work +with cakes, creams, and pastry. I recollect I took over our cook, Prue, +because Lou fancied nobody could make such wine jelly as hers. Then +Lou's trousseau was a very rich one, and she wanted to try on all of her +pretty dresses, that we might see how----" + +"My dear!" interrupted Mr. Beardsley, "this really appears irrelevant to +the matter----" + +"Not at all. I wish Mr. Floyd to gain an idea of Louisa's temper and +mood at that time. The truth is, she was passionately fond of her lover, +and very happy that her marriage was so near; and being a modest little +thing, she hid her feeling under an incessant, merry chatter about +dresses and jellies. Don't you agree with me, William?" + +The sick man turned on the sofa with a laugh, which looked ghastly +enough on his haggard face. "I submit, Aunt Sophie, that it is hardly +fair to call me in as a witness in this case. I waited on Lou for two or +three years, Mr. Floyd, and she threw me over for Merrick. It is not +likely that I was an unprejudiced observer of her moods just then." + +"Nonsense, William. I knew that was but the idlest flirtation between +you, or I should not have brought you here now," said his aunt. "Well, +Mr. Floyd, the preparations all were completed on the afternoon before +the wedding. Some of the young people had gathered in the library--Paul +Merrick and his sisters and--you were there, William?" + +"Yes, I was there." + +"And they persuaded Lou to put on her wedding dress and veil to give +them a glimpse of the bride. I think it was Paul who wished it. He was a +hot, eager young fellow, and he was impatient to taste his happiness by +anticipation. It was a dull, gusty afternoon in October. I remember the +contrast she made to the gray, cold day as she came in, shy and +blushing, and her eyes sparkling, in her haze of white, and stood in +front of the window. She was so lovely and pure that we were all silent. +It seemed as if she belonged then to her lover alone, and none of us had +a right to utter a word. He went up to her, but no one heard what he +said, and then took her by the hand and led her reverently to the door. +Presently I met her coming out of her chamber in a cloak and hat. Her +maid Abby was inside, folding the white dress and veil. 'I am going down +to Aunty Huldah's,' Lou said to me. 'I promised her to come again before +I was married and tell her the arrangements all over once more.' Huldah +was an old colored woman, Lou's nurse, who lived down on the creek bank +and had long been bedridden. I remember that I said to Louisa that the +walk would be long and lonely, and told her to call Paul to accompany +her. She hesitated a moment, and then turned to the door, saying Huldah +would probably be in one of her most funereal moods, and that she would +not have Paul troubled on the eve of his wedding day. She started, +running and looking back with a laugh, down the hill." Mrs. Beardsley +faltered and stopped. + +"Go on," said Dr. Scheffer. "The incidents which follow are all that +really affect Louisa's guilt or innocence." + +"Go on, mother," said Beardsley hastily. "Louisa's innocence is not +called in question. Remember that. Tell everything you know without +scruple." + +The old lady began again in a lower voice: "We expected an arrival that +afternoon--Houston Simms, a distant kinsman of Major Scheffer's. He was +from Kentucky--a large owner of blooded stock--and was on his way home +from New York, where his horses had just won the prizes at the fall +races. He had promised to stop for the wedding, and the carriage had +been sent to the station to meet him. The station, as you know, is five +miles up the road. By some mistake the carriage was late, and Houston +started, with his valise in his hand, to walk to the house, making a +short cut through the woods. When the carriage came back empty, and the +driver told this to us, some of the young men started down to meet the +old gentleman. It was then about four o'clock, and growing dark rapidly. +The wind, I recollect, blew sharply, and a cold rain set in. I came out +on the long porch, and walked up and down, feeling uneasy and annoyed at +Louisa's prolonged absence. Colonel Merrick, who had been looking for +her all through the house, had just learned from me where she had gone, +and was starting with umbrellas to meet her, when she came suddenly up +to us, crossing the ploughed field, not from the direction of Huldah's +cabin, but from the road. We both hurried toward her; but when she +caught sight of Colonel Merrick she stopped short, putting out her hands +with a look of terror and misery quite indescribable. 'Take me away from +him! Oh, for God's sake!' she cried. I saw she had suffered some great +shock, and taking her in my arms, led her in, motioning him to keep +back. She was so weak as to fall, but did not faint, nor lose +consciousness for a single moment. All night she lay, her eyes wandering +from side to side as in momentary expectancy of the appearance of some +one. No anodyne had any effect upon her--every nerve seemed strained to +its utmost tension. But she did not speak a word except at the sound of +Colonel Merrick's voice or step, when she would beg piteously that he +should be kept away from her. Toward morning she fell into a kind of +stupor, and when she awoke appeared to be calmer. She beckoned to me, +and asked that her uncle Scheffer and Judge Grove, her other guardian, +should be sent for. She received them standing, apparently quite grave +and composed. She asked that several other persons should be called in, +desiring, she said, to have as many witnesses as possible to what she +was about to make known. 'You all know,' she said, 'that to-morrow was +to have been my wedding day. I wish you now to bear witness that I +refuse to-day or at any future time to marry Paul Merrick, and that no +argument or persuasion will induce me to do so. And I wish,' raising her +hand, to keep silence--'I wish to say publicly that it is no fault or +ill doing of Colonel Merrick's that has driven me to this resolve. I +say this as in the sight of Almighty God.' Nobody argued, or scarcely, +indeed, spoke to her. Every one saw that she was physically a very ill +woman; and it was commonly believed that she had received some sudden +shock which had unhinged her mind. An hour afterward the searching party +came in (for the young men, not finding Houston Simms, had gone out +again to search for him). They had found his dead body concealed in the +woods by Mill's spring. You know the place. There was a pistol shot +through the head, and a leathern pocketbook, which had apparently +contained money, was found empty a few feet away. That was the end of it +all, Mr. Floyd." + +"You mean that Simms's murderer was never found?" + +"Never," said Beardsley, "though detectives were brought down from +Richmond and set on the track. Their theory--a plausible one enough +too--was that Simms had been followed from New York by men who knew the +large sum he earned from the races, and that they had robbed and +murdered him, and readily escaped through the swamps." + +"It never was my belief," said Dr. Scheffer, "that he was murdered at +all. It was hinted that he had stopped in a gambling house in New York, +and there lost whatever sum he had won at the races; and that rather +than meet his family in debt and penniless, he blew out his brains in +the first lonely place to which he came. That explanation was plain +enough." + +"What was the end of the story so far as Miss Waring was concerned?" I +asked. + +"Unfortunately, it never has had an end," said Mrs. Beardsley. "The +mystery remains. She was ill afterward; indeed, it was years before she +regained her bodily strength as before. But her mind had never been +unhinged, as Paul Merrick thought. He waited patiently, thinking that +some day her reason would return, and she would come back to him. But +Louisa Waring was perfectly sane even in the midst of her agony on that +night. From that day until now she has never by word or look given any +clue by which the reason of her refusal to marry him could be +discovered. Of course the murder and her strange conduct produced a +great excitement in this quiet neighborhood. But you can imagine all +that. I simply have given you the facts which bear on the case." + +"The first suspicion, I suppose, rested on Merrick?" I said. + +"Yes. The natural explanation of her conduct was that she had witnessed +an encounter in the woods between Simms and her lover, in which the old +man was killed. Fortunately, however, Paul Merrick had not left the +house once during the afternoon until he went out with me to meet her." + +"And then Miss Waring was selected as the guilty party?" + +No one answered for a moment. Young Scheffer lay with his arm over his +face, which had grown so worn and haggard as the story was told that I +doubted whether his affection for the girl had been the slight matter +which he chose to represent it. + +"No," said Beardsley; "she never was openly accused, nor even subjected +to any public interrogation. She came to the house in the opposite +direction from the spot where the murder took place. And there was no +rational proof that she had any cognizance of it. But there were not +wanting busybodies to suggest that she had met Simms in the woods, and +at some proffered insult from him had fired the fatal shot." + +His wife's fair old face flushed. "How can you repeat such absurdity, +McCormack?" she said. "Louisa Waring was as likely to go about armed +as--as I!" knitting vehemently at a woollen stocking she had held idly +until now. + +"I know it was absurd, my dear. But you know as well as I that though it +was but the mere breath of suspicion, it has always clung to the girl +and set her apart as it were from other women." + +"What effect did that report have on Merrick?" I asked. + +"The effect it would have on any man deserving the name," said +Beardsley. "If he loved her passionately before, she has been, I +believe, doubly dear to him since. But she has never allowed him to meet +her since that night." + +"You think her feeling is unchanged for him?" + +"I have no doubt of it," Mrs. Beardsley said. "There is nothing in Lou's +nature out of which you could make a heroine of tragedy. After the first +shock of that night was over she was just the commonplace little body +she was before, and could not help showing how fond she was of her old +lover. But she quietly refused to ever see him again." + +"Merrick went abroad three years ago," interposed her husband. "I'll let +you into a secret, Floyd. I've determined there shall be an end of this +folly. I have heard from him that he will be at home next week, and is +as firm as ever in his resolve to marry Miss Waring. I brought her here +so that she could not avoid meeting him. Now if you, Floyd, could only +manage--could look into this matter before the meeting, and set it to +rights, clear the poor child of this wretched suspicion that hangs about +her? Well, now you know why I have told you the story." + +"You have certainly a sublime faith in Mr. Floyd's skill," said Scheffer +with a disagreeable laugh. "I wish him success." He rose with +difficulty, and wrapping his shawl about him, went feebly out of the +room. + +"William is soured through his long illness," Beardsley hastened to say +apologetically. "And he cared more for Lou than I supposed. We were +wrong to bring him in this morning"; and he hurried out to help him up +the stairs. Mrs. Beardsley laid down her knitting, and glanced +cautiously about her. I saw that the vital point of her testimony had +been omitted until now. + +"I think it but right to tell you--nobody has ever heard it +before"--coming close to me, her old face quite pale. "When I undressed +Louisa that night her shoes and stockings were stained, and a long +reddish hair clung to her sleeve. _She had trodden over the bloody +ground and handled the murdered man._" + +Every professional man will understand me when I say I was glad to hear +this. Hitherto the girl's whim and the murder appeared to me two events +connected only by the accident of occurrence on the same day. Now there +was but one mystery to solve. + +Whatever success I have had in my practice has been due to my habit of +boldly basing my theories upon the known character of the parties +implicated, and not upon more palpable accidental circumstances. Left to +myself now, I speedily resolved this case into a few suppositions, +positive to me as facts. The girl had been present at the murder. She +was not naturally reticent: was instead an exceptionally confiding, +credulous woman. Her motive for silence, therefore, must have been a +force brought to bear on her at the time of the murder stronger than her +love for Merrick, and which was still existing and active. Her refusal +to meet her lover I readily interpreted to be a fear of her own +weakness--dread lest she should betray this secret to him. Might not her +refusal to marry him be caused by the same fear? some crushing disgrace +or misery which threatened her through the murder, and which she feared +to bring upon her husband? The motive I had guessed to be strong as her +love: what if it were her love? Having stepped from surmise to surmise +so far, I paused to strengthen my position by the facts. There were but +two ways in which this murder could have prevented her marriage--through +Merrick's guilt or her own. His innocence was proven; hers I did not +doubt after I had again carefully studied her face. Concealed guilt +leaves its secret signature upon the mouth and eye in lines never to be +mistaken by a man who has once learned to read them. + +Were there but these two ways? There was a third, more probable than +either--_fear_. At the first presentation of this key to the riddle the +whole case mapped itself out before me. The murderer had sealed her lips +by some threat. He was still living, and she was in daily expectation of +meeting him. She had never seen his face, but had reason to believe him +of her own class. (This supposition I based on her quick, terrified +inspection of every man's face who approached her.) Now what threat +could have been strong enough to keep a weak girl silent for years, and +to separate her from her lover on their wedding day? I knew women well +enough to say, none against herself; the threat I believed hung over +Merrick's head, and would be fulfilled if she betrayed the secret or +married him, which, with a weak, loving woman, was equivalent, as any +man would know, to betrayal. + +I cannot attempt to make the breaks in this reasoning solid ground for +my readers; it was solid ground for me. + +The next morning Beardsley met me on leaving the breakfast table. He +held a letter open in his hand, and looked annoyed and anxious. + +"Here's a note from Merrick. He sailed a week sooner than he +expected--has left New York, and will be here to-night. If I had only +put the case in your hands earlier! I had a hope that you could clear +the little girl. But it's too late. She'll take flight as soon as she +hears he is coming. Scheffer says it's a miserable, bloody muddle, and +that I was wrong to stir it up." + +"I do not agree with Dr. Scheffer," I said quietly. "I am going now to +the library. In half an hour send Miss Waring to me." + +"You have not yet been presented to her?" + +"So much the better. I wish her to regard me as a lawyer simply. State +to her as formally as you choose who I am, and that I desire to see her +on business." + +I seated myself in the library; placed pen and ink, and some +legal-looking documents, selected at random, before me. Red tape and the +formal pomp of law constitute half its force with women and men of +Louisa's calibre. I had hardly arranged myself and my materials when the +door slowly opened, and she entered. She was alarmed, yet wary. To see a +naturally hearty, merry little body subjected for years to this nervous +strain, with a tragic idea forced into a brain meant to be busied only +with dress, cookery, or babies, appeared to me a pitiful thing. + +"Miss Waring?" reducing the ordinary courtesies to a curt, grave nod. +"Be seated, if you please." I turned over my papers slowly, and then +looked up at her. I had, I saw, none of the common feminine shrewdness +to deal with; need expect no subtle devices of concealment; no clever +doublings; nothing but the sheer obstinacy which is an unintellectual +woman's one resource. I would ignore it and her--boldly assume full +possession of the ground at the first word. + +"My errand to this house, Miss Waring, is in part the investigation of a +murder in 1854, of which you were the sole witness--that of Houston +Simms----" + +I stopped. The change in her face appalled me. She had evidently not +expected so direct an attack. In fact, Beardsley told me afterward that +it was the first time the subject had been broached to her in plain +words. However, she made no reply, and I proceeded in the same formal +tone: + +"I shall place before you the facts which are in my possession, and +require your assent to such as are within your knowledge. On the +afternoon of Tuesday, October 5, 1854, Houston Simms left the Pine +Valley station, carrying a valise containing a large sum of money. +You----" + +She had been sitting on the other side of the table, looking steadily at +me. She rose now. She wore a blue morning dress, with lace ruffles and +other little fooleries in which women delight, and I remember being +shocked with the strange contrast between this frippery and the +speechless dread and misery of her face. She gained control of her voice +with difficulty. + +"Who has said that I was a witness of the murder?" she gasped. "I always +explained that I was in another part of the wood. I went to aunty +Huldah----" + +"Pray do not interrupt me, Miss Waring. I am aware that you were the +witness--the sole witness--in this matter." (She did not contradict me. +I was right in my first guess--she had been alone with the murderer.) +"On returning from your nurse's cabin you left the direct path and +followed the sound of angry voices to the gorge by Mill's spring----" + +"I did not go to play the spy. He lied when he said that," she cried +feebly. "I heard the steps, and thought Colonel Merrick had come to +search for me." + +"That matters nothing. You saw the deed done. The old man was killed, +and then robbed, in your sight"--I came toward her, and lowered my voice +to a stern, judicial whisper, while the poor girl shrank back as though +I were law itself uttering judgment upon her. If she had known what +stagy guesswork it all was! "When you were discovered, the murderer +would have shot you to insure your silence." + +"I wish he had! It was Thad who would have done that. The white man's +way was more cruel--oh, God knows it was more cruel!" + +(There were two then.) I was very sorry for the girl, but I had a keen +pleasure in the slow unfolding of the secret, just as I suppose the +physician takes delight in the study of a new disease, even if it kills +the patient. + +"Yes," I said with emphasis. "I believe that it would have been less +suffering for you, Miss Waring, to have died then than to have lived, +forced as you were to renounce your lover, and to carry about with you +the dread of the threat made by those men." + +"I have not said there was a threat made. I have betrayed nothing." She +had seated herself some time before by the table. There was a large +bronze inkstand before her, and as she listened she arranged a half +dozen pens evenly on the rest. The words she heard and spoke mattered +more to her than life or death; her features were livid as those of a +corpse, yet her hands went on with their mechanical work--one pen did +not project a hair's breadth beyond the other. We lawyers know how +common such puerile, commonplace actions are in the supreme moments of +life, and how seldom men wring their hands, or use tragic gesture, or +indeed words. + +"No, you have betrayed nothing," I said calmly. "Your self-control has +been remarkable, even when we remember that you believed your confession +would be followed by speedy vengeance, not on your head, but Colonel +Merrick's." + +She looked up not able to speak for a minute. "You--you know all?" + +"Not all, but enough to assure you that your time of suffering is over. +You can speak freely, unharmed." + +Her head dropped on the table. She was crying, and, I think, praying. + +"You saw Houston Simms killed by two men, one of whom, the negro Thad, +you knew. The white man's face was covered. You did not recognize him. +But he knew you, and the surest way to compel you to silence. I wish you +now to state to me all the details of this man's appearance, voice, and +manner, to show me any letters which you have received from him since" +(a random guess, which I saw hit the mark)--"in short, every +circumstance which you can recall about him." + +She did not reply. + +"My dear Miss Waring, you need have no fear on Colonel Merrick's +account. The law has taken this matter out of your hands. Colonel +Merrick is protected by the law." + +"Oh! I did not understand," meekly. + +To be brief, she told me the whole story. When she reached the spring +she had found the old man bleeding and still breathing. He died in her +arms. The men, who had gone back into the laurel to open the valise, +came back upon her. The negro was a desperate character, well known in +the county. He had died two years later. The other man was masked and +thoroughly disguised. He had stopped the negro when he would have killed +her, and after a few minutes' consultation had whispered to him the +terms upon which she was allowed to escape. + +"You did not hear the white man's voice?" + +"Not once." + +"Bring me the letters you have received from him." + +She brought two miserably spelled and written scrawls on soiled bits of +paper. It was the writing of an educated man, poorly disguised. He +threatened to meet her speedily, warned her that he had spies constantly +about her. + +"That is all the evidence you can give me?" + +"All." She rose to go. I held the door open for her, when she hesitated. + +"There was something more--a mere trifle." + +"Yes. But most likely the one thing that I want." + +"I returned to the spring again and again for months afterward. People +thought I was mad. I may have been; but I found there one day a bit of +reddish glass with a curious mark on it." + +"You have it here?" + +She brought it to me. It was a fragment of engraved sardonyx, apparently +part of a seal; the upper part of a head was cut upon it; the short +hairs curving forward on the low forehead showed that the head was that +of Hercules. + +Some old recollection rose in my brain, beginning, as I may say, to +gnaw uncertainly. I went to my room for a few minutes to collect myself, +and then sought Beardsley. + +He was pacing up and down the walk to the stables, agitated as though he +had been the murderer. + +"Well, Floyd, well! What chance is there? What have you discovered?" + +"Everything. One moment. I have a question or two to ask you. About ten +years ago you commissioned me to buy for you in New York a seal--an +intaglio of great value--a head of Hercules, as I remember. What did you +do with it?" + +"Gave it to Job Scheffer, William's father. Will has it now, though I +think it is broken." + +"Very well. What have Dr. Scheffer's habits been, by the way? Was he as +fond of turning the cards as the other young fellows?" + +"Oh, yes, poor boy! There was a rumor some years ago that he was +frightfully involved in Baltimore--that it would ruin the old man, in +fact, to clear off his debts of honor. But it died out. I suppose +William found some way of straightening them out." + +"Probably. Where is Dr. Scheffer now? I have a message for him." + +"In his room. But this matter of Louisa Waring----" + +"Presently. Have patience." + +I went up to the young man's room. After all, the poor wretch was dying, +and to compel him to blast his own honorable name seemed but brutal +cruelty. I had to remember the poor girl's wasted face and hopeless eyes +before I could summon courage to open the door after I had knocked. I +think he expected me, and knew all that I had to say. A man in health +would soon have known that I was acting on surmise, and defied me to the +proof. Scheffer, I fancied, had been creeping through life for years +with death in two shapes pursuing him, step by step. He yielded, cowed +submissive at the first touch, and only pleaded feebly for mercy. + +The negro had been his body servant--knew his desperate straits, and +dragged him into the crime. Then, he had loved Louisa: he was maddened +by her approaching marriage. The scheme of ensuring her silence and +driving Merrick away was the inspiration of a moment, and had succeeded. +He only asked for mercy. His time was short. He could not live beyond a +few weeks. I would not bring him to the gallows. + +I was merciful, and I think was right to be so. His deposition was taken +before his uncle, Mr. Beardsley, who was a magistrate, and two other men +of position and weight in the community. It was to be kept secret until +after his death, and then made public. He was removed at once to his +father's house. + +On Colonel Merrick's arrival that evening, this deposition was formally +read to him. I do not think it impressed him very much. He was resolved +to marry Miss Waring in spite of every obstacle. + +"But I never would have married you unless the truth had been +discovered--never," she said to him that evening as they stood near me +in the drawing-room. Her cheeks were warm, and her dark eyes full of +tender light. I thought her a very lovely woman. + +"Then I owe you to Mr. Floyd after all?" he said, looking down at her +fondly. + +"Oh, I suppose so," with a shrug. "But he is a very disagreeable person! +Cast-iron, you know. I am so thankful _you_ are not a lawyer, Paul." + + JAMES M. FLOYD. + + + + +ROMANCE. + + + I would I were mighty, victorious, + A monarch of steel and of gold-- + I would I were one of the glorious + Divinities hallowed of old-- + A god of the ancient sweet fashion + Who mingled with women and men, + A deity human in passion, + Transhuman in strength and in ken. + + For then I could render the pleasure + I win from the sight of your face; + For then I could utter my treasure + Of homage and thanks for your grace; + I could dower, illumine, and gladden, + Could rescue from perils and tears, + And my speech could vibrate and madden + With eloquence worthy your ears. + + You meet me: you smile and speak kindly; + One minute I marvel and gaze, + Idolatrous, worshipping blindly, + Yet mindful of decorous ways. + You pass; and the glory is ended, + Though lustres and sconces may glow: + The goddess who made the scene splendid + Has vanished; and darkly I go. + + You know not how swiftly you mounted + The throne in the depths of my eyes; + You care not how meekly I counted + Those moments for pearls of the skies; + Or, knowing it, all is forgotten + The moment I pass from your sight-- + Consigned to the fancies begotten + Of chaos and slumber and night. + + But I--I remember your glances, + Your carelessest gesture and word, + And out of them fashion romances + Man never yet uttered nor heard; + Romances too splendid for mortals, + Too sweet for a planet of dole; + Romances which open the portals + Of Eden, and welcome my soul. + + J. W. DEFOREST. + + + + +BEER. + + +Poets, in every age since the time of Anacreon, have sung odes in praise +of wine. The greatest bards of every clime have sought inspiration in +its sparkling depths. But the poet, even German, is yet unborn, who, +moved by sweet memories of the nectar of his fatherland, shall chant in +rhyme the virtues of his national drink. Yet though its merit has +inspired neither of the sister graces, poetry and song, to strike the +lyre in its honor, it has had, none the less, an important mission to +perform. To its plebeian sister beer, as a healthful beverage, wine must +yield the palm. As a common drink, suited to human nature's daily need, +it has never been surpassed. If it has nerved no hand to deeds of +daring, or struck the scintillating sparks of genius from the human +brain, it has added immensely to the health, long life, and happiness of +many nations, and is destined to still greater triumphs, as life becomes +studied more from a hygienic standpoint. + +Beer is believed to have been invented by the Egyptians, and is of +almost universal use; the zone of the cereals being more extended than +that of the grape. Greek writers before Christ mention a drink composed +of barley, under the name of _zythos_. This beverage was not unknown to +the Romans, and we find it first mentioned by the historian Tacitus. By +the nations of the West it was regarded as a nourishing drink for poor +people. They prepared it from honey and wheat. Among the ancient Germans +and Scandinavians, however, beer was in former times the national +beverage, and was prepared from barley, wheat, or oats, with the +addition of oak bark, and later of hops. + +The ancients put bitter herbs in beer, and the present use of hops is in +imitation. Modern beer was born at the time of Charlemagne, an epoch at +which hops were first cultivated. The earliest writing in which one +finds mention of hops as an aroma to beer is in a parchment of St. +Hildegarde, abbess of the convent of St. Rupert, at Bingen on the Rhine. +The art of fabricating beer remained for a long time a privilege of +convents. The priests drank Pater's beer, while the lighter or convent +beer was used by the laity. Although beer has been manufactured of all +the cereals, barley only can be called its true and legitimate father. + +Bavaria and Franconia were already in the fourteenth century celebrated +for their excellent beer, and the German cities, of which each one soon +had its own brewery, vied with their predecessors. In the fifteenth and +sixteenth centuries the Upper and Lower Saxony breweries became well +known. The Braunschweiger, Einbeker, Goettinger, Bremer, and Hamburger +beer, as well as the breweries of the cities of Wuerzen, Zwickau, Torgau, +Merseburg, and Goslar, were far and wide celebrated. Bavarian beer has +long made the tour of the world. Bock beer from Bavaria and from the +Erzgebirge is exported to Java and China. + +German lager beer, as a healthy and lightly stimulating beverage, is +welcome in both hot and cold countries. It is liked as well by the +Russians and Scandinavians as by the inhabitants of the tropics. It is +brewed by Germans in all parts of the globe--in Valenciennes, Antwerp, +Madrid, Constantinople, and even in Australia, Chili, and Brazil. + +The English commenced later than the Germans to make beer. In 1524, +however, they not only brewed beer, but used hops in its fabrication. + +The Greek and Latin races, which drank wine, had but little taste for +beer, which divided them from the Germanic races as a sharp boundary. +Beer and wine seem to have had an influence in forming the temperament +of these widely differing races. While wine excites the nervous system, +beer tranquillizes and calms it. The action of a particular kind of +daily drink, used for centuries, must in this respect have been more or +less potent. Hence, perhaps, the Teuton's phlegm and the Gaul's +excitability. + +There may be said to be three principal types of beer--the Bavarian, +Belgian, and English. The Bavarian is obtained by the infusion or +decoction of sprouted barley; then by the fermentation of deposit, in +tubs painted internally with resin. The varieties most appreciated are +the Bock and Salvator beers. The beers of Belgium have the special +character of being prepared by spontaneous fermentation, and the process +is therefore slow. The principal varieties are the Lambick, the Faro, +the March beer, and the Uytzd. In the English beer the must is prepared +by simple infusion and the fermentation is superficial. On account of +its great alcoholic richness it is easily conserved. The ale, the +porter, and the stout are the chief varieties of English beer, which +differ among themselves only by the diverse proportion of their +ingredients and the different degrees of torrefaction of the barley, +rendering it more or less brown. In France only the superficial method +of fermentation is employed. In a litre of Strasburg beer one finds 5 +1-4 grammes of albumen, 45 grammes of alcohol, and .091 of salts. The +ordinary Bavarian beer contains three per cent. of alcohol and six and a +half per cent. of nourishing extracts. The beers the most sticky to the +touch are the heaviest in volume and the most nutritious. It is +historical that in very olden days the Munich city fathers tried the +goodness of the beer by pouring it out on a bench and then sitting down +in their leather inexpressibles, and approved of it only when they +remained glued to the seat. + +In Nuremberg there is a school of brewers, where one may learn all the +mysteries of beer brewing. Certain breweries, however, pretend to +possess secrets pertaining to the art known exclusively to them. For +example, one family near Leipsic is said to have possessed for a century +the secret which chemistry has tried in vain to discover, of making the +famous Gose beer. + +"Good beer," says Dr. Paolo Mantegazza, a celebrated Italian writer on +medicine, "is certainly one of the most healthy of alcoholic drinks. The +bitter tonic, the richness of the alimentary principle which it +contains, and its digestibility make it a real liquid food, which, for +many temperaments, is medicine. The English beer, which is stronger in +spirit than some wines, never produces on the stomach that union of +irritating phenomena vulgarly called heat, and for this reason beer is +often tolerated by the most weak and irritable persons, and can be drunk +with advantage in grave diseases."[A] Laveran, a French physician, +counsels it for consumptives, and for nervous thin people in the most +diverse climates. + +In the intoxication by beer there is always more or less stupidity. Beer +is by no means favorable to _l'esprit_. It is doubtful if it has ever +inspired the great poets or the profound thinkers who make Germany, in +science, the leading country in Europe. Reich, Voigt, and many great +writers have launched their anathemas against it. As a stimulant beer is +less potent than wine or tea and coffee. The forces of soldiers have +never been sustained on a fatiguing march, nor can they be incited to a +battle, by plentiful libations of beer. During the late French-Prussian +war nearly every provision train which left Bavaria carried supplies of +beer to the Bavarian troops. It was found very favorable for the +convalescent soldiers in the hospitals, but inferior to coffee or wine +as a stimulant on the eve of battle. + +The old chroniclers of Bavaria relate this curious tale of the origin of +the celebrated bock beer. There was one day in olden times at the table +of the Duke of Bavaria, as guest, a Brunswick nobleman. Now there had +long prevailed at the court the custom of presenting to noble guests, +after the meal, a beaker of the Bavarian barley juice, not without a +warning as to its strength. The Brunswicker received the usual cup, +emptied it at a draught, and pronounced it excellent. "But," he +continued, "such barley juice as we brew at home in Brunswick is +equalled by no other. Our Mumme is the king of beers, so that the +bravest drinker cannot take two beakers of it without sinking under the +table." The duke listened with displeasure to the haughty words of the +knight, for he was not a little proud of the brewings of his country, +and commanded his cup-bearer, with a meaning look, to challenge him. + +"By your leave, Sir Knight," replied the page, "what you say is not +quite true. If it pleases you and my lord Duke, I should like to lay a +wager with you." + +The duke nodded assent, and the knight, smiling scornfully, challenged +the cup-bearer to pledge him. + +"Your Brunswick Mumme," continued the page, "may pass as a refreshing +drink; but with our beer you cannot compare it, for the best of our +brewings is unknown to you. In case, however, you please again to make +your appearance at the hospitable court of my gracious lord, I will +promise you a beaker of beer which cannot be equalled in any other +country of united Christendom. I will drink the greatest bumper that can +be found in our court of your Mumme at one draught, if you can take of +our beer, even slowly, three beakers. He who a half hour afterward can +stand on one leg and thread a needle shall win the wager, and receive +from the other a mighty cask of Tokayer Rebensafte." + +This speech received loud applause, and the Brunswicker laughingly +accepted the challenge. + +After the knight had departed the duke tapped the page on the shoulder +and said, "Take care that thou dost not repent thy word, and that the +Brunswicker does not win the wager." + +The first morning in May the Brunswicker rode into the castle and was +welcomed by the duke. All eyes were turned on the cup-bearer, who +shortly afterward appeared with a suite of pages carrying on a bier two +little casks, one bearing the Bavarian arms and the other those of +Brunswick. The right to give to the contents of the former a particular +name was reserved to the duke. The page produced likewise a monstrous +silver bumper and three beakers of the ordinary size. It was long before +the bumper was filled to the rim, and then it required two men to raise +it to the table. In the mean time another page placed the three beakers +before the knight, who could not suppress a sarcastic laugh at the huge +bumper which the page, taking in his strong arms, placed to his lips. As +the knight emptied the last beaker the cup-bearer turned down the +bumper. Two needles and a bundle of silk lay on the table. It wanted a +few moments of the half hour, and the Brunswicker ran toward the garden +for fresh air. Hardly arrived in the court, a peculiar swimming of the +head seized him, so that he fell to the ground. A servant saw him from +the window, and hastened out, followed by the court, with the duke in +advance. There lay the Brunswicker, and tried in vain to rise. + +"By all the saints, Herr Ritter, what has thrown you in the sand?" +inquired the duke sympathetically. + +"The bock, the bock" (the goat, the goat), murmured the knight with a +heavy tongue. + +A burst of sarcastic laughter echoed in the courtyard. In the mean time +the page stood on one foot, and without swaying threaded the needle. + +"The bock, the bock," repeated the duke smiling. "Our beer is no longer +without a name. It shall be called bock, that one may take care." + +The bock season lasts about six weeks, from May into June. Just before +it commences a transparency of a goat, drinking from a tall, slender +glass, is placed as a sign before certain beer locals, called in Munich +dialect bock stalls, not because goats are kept there, but because +wonderful beer, called bock, is dispensed. + +He who has not lived in Bavaria can have no idea of what importance beer +is in Bavarian life. There are in Munich Germans who exist only for +beer, and there have been pointed out to me old gentlemen who have +frequented daily the same local for twenty-five or thirty years, and +even occupied the same seat, and pounded the same table, by way of +enforcing their views, in discussing the politics of the day. They are +called _Stammgaeste_ (literally stock guests), and are much honored in +their respective locals. + +The greatest personages do not disdain the meanest locals, provided the +beer is good and to their taste. Naked pine tables do not disgust them, +nor the hardest benches. Often on the table skins of radishes, crusts of +bread, cigar stumps, tobacco ashes, herring heads, and cheese rinds form +a fragrant _melange_. The inheritors of this precious legacy push it +away without undue irritability. Radishes are carried about by old women +called _radi-weibers_, who do a thriving business besides in nuts and +herrings. One cannot find in any other country of the world radishes of +such size, tenderness, and flavor--a brown variety inherited by the +happy Muencheners with their breweries. Nowhere else does cutting and +salting them rank as an art. To prepare one scientifically they pare it +carefully, slit it in three slices nearly to the end, place salt on the +top, and draw the finger over it, as if it were a pack of cards. The +salt falls between the slices, and when they are pressed together +becomes absorbed. + +In a German _Bier Local_ are represented all classes of society. Beer is +the great leveller of social distinctions. The foaming glass of King +Gambrinus unites all Germans of all states, climates, and professions +in a closer brotherhood than the sceptre of the Hohenzollerns, and links +that portion of the Teutonic race over which the stars and stripes +throws its protecting folds to the dear fatherland. + +Fine wines are a perquisite of money. The fortunate aristocrat and the +house of Israel, which everywhere waxes fat on the needs of travellers, +may sip their champagne, their Lachrymae Christi, and their Hockheimer, +while less favored humanity contents itself with sour _vin ordinaire_; +but beer is the same for all, and in some breweries each one must search +for a glass, rinse it, and present himself in his turn at the shank +window, to which there is no royal road. "La biere," which a great +writer calls "ce vin de la reforme," is essentially a democratic drink. +It became popular at a time when a fatal blow had been struck at class +privileges and priestly exclusiveness. + +Manfully does a true-hearted Bavarian stand by his brewery, in ill as +well as good report. If the beer turns out badly, he does not find it a +sufficient reason to desert his local for some other, but rather remains +with touching devotion, and anticipates the approaching end of the old +beer and the advent of new, with implicit trust and confidence in the +future. Some years ago the Bavarian post and railway conductors +distinguished themselves by the mournful zeal with which they notified +to the passengers the nearing of the frontier. At each station they were +sorrowfully communicative. + +"The last Bairischer[B] but four, gentlemen! Gentlemen, there are only +two more real Bairischers! Gentlemen," with tears in the voice, "the +last Bairischer." + +The passengers rushed to the buffet and drank. + +Even now, with that curious affection with which every Bavarian's heart +turns to his Mecca of beer, the salutation to a stranger is, "Are you +going to Munich? _Da werden sie gutes Bier trinken._"[C] + +"You came from Munich! _Ach!_ _da haben sie gutes Bier getrunken._"[D] + +Even in Beerland there are different kinds of beer, like the federal +union, one in many and many in one. Between them are sometimes +irreconcilable differences, as for example, between the white and +Actiens beer of Berlin. The former is made of wheat, and is exclusively +a summer beverage, and a glass of it is fondly termed a "kleine Weisse" +(a little white one), perhaps in irony, for it is served in excentric +mammoth tumblers, which require both hands to lift. + +Then there is the Vienna beer, the antipodes of the Bavarian. The latter +must be drunk soon after it is made, while the former must lie many +months in the cellar before it is ready for use. In Austria, that +forcible union of States of clashing interests and nationalities, which +is not a nation, but only a government reposing on bayonets, the +population is divided between the partisans of King Gambrinus and those +of Bacchus. + +As little as an artist could maintain that he was familiar with the +works of the great masters when he had not visited Italy, so little +could a beer drinker assert that he had seen beer rightly drunk when he +had not been in Munich. All over the world beer is regarded as a +refreshment, but in Munich it is the elixir of life, the fabled fountain +of youth and happiness. It is looked upon as nourishment by the lower +classes, who drink for dinner two _masses_[E] of it, with soup and black +bread. For the price of the beer they could procure a good portion of +meat, but they universally maintain that they are best nourished with +beer and bread. + +The Bavarian drinks to satisfy his "thirst, that beautiful German gift +of God." If he is healthy, he drinks because it keeps his life juices in +their normal state; if he is sick and in pain, because it is a soothing +and harmless narcotic; if he is hungry, because beer is nourishment; if +he has already eaten, because beer promotes digestion; if he is warm, +because it is cooling and refreshing; if he is cold, because it warms +him; if he is fatigued, because it is a tonic and sovereign strength +renewer; if he is angry, because beer soothes him and gives him time to +consider; if he needs courage, because beer is precisely the right +stimulant. Where the Americans fly to their bitters "to tone up the +system and enliven the secretions," the Germans resort to beer; and many +are of opinion that frequent trips to the bock stalls in the spring are +more healing than a visit to Carlsbad or Baden Baden, where one drinks +disgusting water. In all circumstances and all moods they drink and are +comforted. + +The Jews believed that the sacred waves of the Jordan were powerful to +wash away all human suffering, either of the soul or body. Faith was +necessary to this pious healing. To the Muenchener beer is the river of +health. His faith in it dates from his earliest infancy, and he resorts +to its beneficent influence at least seven times a day, and drinks his +last _Kruegl_ with apparently the same relish as the first. The quantity +which Germans drink is something incredible. Bavarian students usually +take from five to seven masses per day. (At the German Jesuit seminary +in Prague the novices are allowed daily seven, the clericos ten, and the +priests twelve pints of beer.) + +Beer is considered good not only for men, but for women, for girls and +boys, and even unweaned infants. + +"Mein Kruegl" the Muenchener speaks of as of his natural and human rights. +He was born with a right to his beer, and his _Kruegl_, as "man is born +with a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," and +equally with these the State must look after this right. The kruegls, or +beer mugs, of each brewery are inspected by the police, to see if the +measure is correct, and if the ware has no poisonous lead in its +composition. The royal K is stamped on them by the King's authority. The +police also examine the contents of the beer with the same zeal as the +water or the condition of the sewers. + +The Germans as a nation are patient of wrong and peace-loving, but the +rumor of a tax on beer raises a frightful commotion, and a riot is often +the consequence. As well tax air, water, and fire as beer, the fifth +element. + +In an ancient neighborhood of Munich, behind the post, and best entered +from Maximilian street, is a little square remarkable for its ugliness. +All the houses are old, and one feels upon entering it as if one had +suddenly walked back into the middle ages. On the east side stands a +time-gray, low, irregular building, resembling in architecture, or by +its want of it, nothing of the present age. This is the royal Hof +Brauerei. After 10 A. M. a constant stream of thirsty souls flows along +the streets and narrow alleys leading toward its dismal-looking portals. +Its beer is celebrated as being the finest in the world, and is the +standard by which all other beers are judged. It is the poetry of beer; +it is to all other brewings what Shakespeare is to the drama; what the +Coliseum is to other antiquities. None of the beer is exported or sold; +it is all drunk on the spot, and when it gives out no other brewery can +supply a drop comparable with it. The Parisians, who have heaped every +luxury, from the poles to the tropics, in their capital of the world, +have not enough money in the Bank of France to purchase a cask of it. It +is said that Maximilian II. resolved that the best beer in the world +should be made at the royal brewery in Munich. It has never been +expected that it would yield any revenue, but merely pay its expenses. +It is now under the protection of the present King, and the ingredients +are inspected by an officer of the royal household. + +For its dirt, its darkness, and its utter want of service, the Hof +Brauerei is unequalled in the world, and nowhere else can be found such +a mixed society. Entering the low-vaulted room, each one looks anxiously +about for an empty mug. These are of gray stone, containing a mass, the +price of which is seven and a half kreutzers. Spying one, he hastens to +secure it from other competitors. The first who reaches it carries it +off in triumph to the spring in the anteroom, rinses it, and presents +himself behind a queue of predecessors at the shank window, where +several pairs of hands are occupied all day long in filling mugs from +the great casks within. This accomplished, he returns to the guest room +and searches for a seat. If found, it is certainly not luxurious--a +wooden bench of pine, stained by time and continual use to a dark dirt +color, behind an ancient table. The walls and ceiling are grim with age, +and the atmosphere hazy with smoke. The scene baffles description. All +classes of society are represented. Side by side with the noble or +learned professor, one sees the poorest artisan and the common soldier. +Here and there the picturesque face of an artist is in close proximity +to a peasant, and through the smoky atmosphere one catches the gleam of +the scarlet or sky-blue cap of a German student, or the glitter of an +epaulette. The Catholic of the most ultramontane stamp is there, as well +as the Jew, the Protestant, and the freethinker. Here stands a pilgrim +from far America, armed with a Baedeker, and there an Englishman with the +inevitable Murray under his arm, too amazed or disdainful to search for +a mass. Remarkable also are the steady habitues of the place, with +Albert Duerer-like features which look as if hastily hewn out of ancient +wood with two or three blows of a hatchet, or with smoke-dried +physiognomies having a tint like that of a meerschaum pipe, acquired by +years of exposure to the thick atmosphere of smoky breweries. They are +there morning, noon, and night, year in and year out. Some talk over +the news of the day, but most sit in silence. Not a few make a meal with +bread and radishes, or a sausage brought from the nearest pork shop. + +In Munich a singular and ancient custom prevails. If by chance the cover +of a mug is left up, any individual who chooses may seize it, and drink +the contents. At the Hof Brauerei I once saw a newly arrived Englishman, +carrying the usual red guidebook, quit the room for an instant, leaving +uncovered his just acquired mass of beer. There came along a +seedy-looking old gentleman, evidently a _Stammgast_. A gleam of +satisfaction stole over his wooden features as he espied the open mug. +Pausing a moment, he lifted it to his lips and slowly drank the +contents. Setting it down empty, with a face mildly radiating +satisfaction, he went his way. Presently the owner of the beer returned, +took his seat, and lifted the mass, without looking, to his lips. With +intense astonishment he put it down again, appeared not to believe the +evidence of his senses, applied his glass to his eye, looked with +anxiety into his mug, and became satisfied of its emptiness. At his +neighbors he cast a quick glance of indignant suspicion--the look of a +Briton whose rights were invaded. No one even looked up; apparently the +occasion was too common to excite attention. Gradually his face regained +its composure. He procured a new supply, and as the wonderful barley +juice disappeared became again calm and happy. Miraculous mixture! Who +would not, under thy benign influence, forget all rancor and bitterness, +even though his deadliest enemy sat opposite? + +In the Haupt und Residenz Stadt Muenchen, as Munich is always called in +official documents, many of the breweries bear the names of orders of +monks, because there the friars in olden days made particularly good +beer. The breweries borrowed from them the receipt and the name. Hence +the brewery to the Augustiner, to the Dominikaner, to the Franciskaner, +and the Salvator. + +New beer is in all cities of America and Europe a simple fact. In Munich +it is an important public and private family event, concerning each +house as well as the entire city. + +The opening of the Salvator brewery in the suburbs of Munich, for its +brief season of a month in the spring, assumes for the inhabitants the +importance of a long anticipated holiday. Thither an eager crowd of +townspeople make pilgrimage. I was present on one of these auspicious +occasions, and found a joyous multitude of more than two thousand +persons, filling to overflowing the capacious building gayly trimmed +with evergreens interspersed with the national colors. A band discoursed +excellent music, that necessary element, without which no German scene +is complete. The waiters, more than usually adroit in supplying the +wants of the crowd, carried in their hands fourteen glasses at a time +with professional dexterity. The peculiar delicacy of the occasion, +aside from the beer, seemed to be cheese, plentifully sprinkled with +black pepper. + +Late in the evening the people became more excited and sympathetic, and +then it was proposed to sing "Herr Fisher," a popular German song of the +people. A verse was sung by a few voices as a solo; then followed a +mighty chorus from all the persons present. Each one raised the cover of +his beer mug at the commencement, and let it fall with a clang at the +close of the chorus, with startling effect. + +In Munich one-half of the inhabitants appear to be engaged in the +fabrication of beer and the entire population in drinking it. It +impresses one as being the only industry there. The enormous brewery +wagons, drawn by five Norman horses, are ever to be seen. On the trains +going from the city there is ordinarily a beer car painted in festive +white. It bears an inscription, that none may mistake its contents, and +perhaps that the peasants may bless it as it passes. It is looked upon +with as much reverence as if it bore the ark of the covenant. + +All over Germany, among the most ordinary of birthday or holiday +presents are the elegantly painted porcelain tops for beer glasses. The +works of great masters may be found copied in exquisite style for this +purpose, as well as illustrations suited to uncultivated tastes. To +these pictures there are appropriate mottoes, and often a verse adapted +to the comprehension of the most uneducated peasant. A favorite among +the Bavarians, judging from the frequency with which it is met with in +all parts of Bavaria, represents a peasant in a balcony waving her +kerchief to her lover, departing in a little skiff, on an intensely blue +sea. Beneath, in patois, is the doggerel: + + Beautifully blue is the sea, + But my heart aches in me, + And my heart will never recover + Till returns my peasant lover. + +Equally a favorite is the following: + + A rifle to shoot, + And a fighting ring to hit, + And a maiden to kiss, + Must a lively boy have. + +The rings to which the rhyme refers are of huge size, of silver, with a +sharp-edged square of the same metal. They are heirlooms among the +peasants, and are worn on the middle finger. It is the custom in a +quarrel to hit one's adversary with the _Stozzring_ on the cheek, which +it tears open. + +In Germany many of the great breweries have summer gardens in the +suburbs of the cities. In Berlin there are magnificent _Biergaerten_, +where the two most necessary elements of German existence, beer and +music, are united. I need only refer to the Hof Jaeger, with its flowers, +fountains, miniature lake, and open-air theatre, where popular comedies +are performed. Three times per week there is an afternoon concert by +one or two regiment bands. Thither the Germans conduct their families. +In the winter there are concert rooms in the cities, where "music is +married," not "to immortal verse," but to beer; and these classical +concerts are patronized by people of high respectability. + +Beer is peculiarly suited to the American temperament, too nervous and +sensitive. It is certain that the human race always has, and probably +always will, resort to beverages more or less stimulating. The preaching +of moralists and the efforts of legislators will not exclude them +permanently from our use. It is not in the use but in the abuse of these +that the difficulty lies. Neither tea nor coffee answers for all +temperaments and all occasions as nervous aliments. The extraordinary +and increasing diffusion of liquors is one of the social ulcers of +modern society, particularly in America. It is unfortunately true that +the use of strong alcoholics is increasing every day, to the great +detriment of public health and morals. Taken merely to kill time, they +often end by killing the individual. + +One of the great advantages of beer, too much forgotten even by +physicians, is that it reverses the influence of alcohol, by which it +loses its irritating properties on the mucous membrane of the stomach. +The celebrated Dr. Bock (late professor of pathological anatomy in the +university at Leipsic) says, "Beer exercises on the digestion, on the +circulation, on the nerves, and above all on the whole system, a +beneficial effect."[F] + +It would be well if Americans would adopt it instead of the innumerable +harmful beverages which ruin the health and poison the peace of society. + + S. G. YOUNG. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: "Quadri della Natura Umana."] + +[Footnote B: The local term in Bavaria for a glass of beer.] + +[Footnote C: There you will drink good beer.] + +[Footnote D: There you drank good beer.] + +[Footnote E: A _mass_ equals fifteen-sixteenths of a quart.] + +[Footnote F: "Buch vom gesunden und kranken Menschen" (9th edition).] + + + + +ON READING SHAKESPEARE. + +PLAYS OF THE THIRD PERIOD. + + +We have followed Shakespeare's course of dramatic production down to the +time when he began to embody in the work by which he earned his bread +and made his fortune the results of an intuitive knowledge of human +nature and a profound reflection upon it never surpassed, if ever +equalled, and which, even if possessed, have never been united in any +other man with a power of expression so grand, so direct, so strong, and +so subtle. "Twelfth Night," "Henry V.," and "As You Like It" mark the +close of his second period, which ended with the sixteenth century. His +third period opens with "Hamlet," which was written about the year 1600. +But here I will say that the division of his work into periods, and the +assignment of his plays to certain years, is only inferential and +approximative. We are able to determine with an approach to certainty +about what time most of his plays were written; but we cannot fix their +date exactly. Nor is it of very great importance that we should do so. +There are some people who can fret themselves and others as to whether a +play was written in 1600 or in 1601, as there are others who deem the +question whether its author was born on the 23d of April in one year, +and died on the same day of the same month in another, one of great +importance. I cannot so regard it. A few days in the date of a man's +birth or death, a few months in the production of a play--these are +matters surely of very little moment. What is important to the student +and lover of Shakespeare is the order of the production of his works; +and this, fortunately, is determinable with a sufficient approach to +accuracy to enable us to know about at what age he was engaged upon +them, and what changes in his style and in his views of life they +indicate. + +In the first ten years of the seventeenth century, between his +thirty-seventh and forty-seventh year, he produced "Hamlet," "Measure +for Measure," his part of "Pericles," "All's Well that Ends Well," "King +Lear," "Macbeth," "Julius Caesar," "Antony and Cleopatra," "Troilus and +Cressida," "Cymbeline," "Coriolanus," and "Othello." These, with other +works, were the fruit of his mind in its full maturity and vigor. Think +of it a moment! what a period it was! As my eye lights upon the back of +the eleventh volume of my own edition and the eighth of the Cambridge +edition, and I read "HAMLET, KING LEAR, OTHELLO," I am moved with a +sense of admiration and wonder which, if I allow it to continue, becomes +almost oppressive; and I also take pleasure in the result of a +convenience of arrangement that brought into one volume these three +marvellous works--the three greatest productions of man's imagination, +each wholly unlike the others in spirit and in motive. + +Although they were not written one after the other, but with an interval +of about five years between them, it would be well to read them +consecutively and in the order above named, which is that in which they +happen to be printed in the first collected edition (1623) of +Shakespeare's plays. They were written--"Hamlet" in 1600-2, "King Lear" +in 1605, and "Othello" about 1610, its date being much more uncertain +than that of either of the others. The thoughtful reader who, having +followed the course previously marked out, now comes to the study of +these tragedies, is prepared to apprehend them justly, not only in their +own greatness, but in their relative position as the product of their +author's mind in its perfected and disciplined maturity--as the splendid +triple crown of Shakespeare's genius. No other dramatist, no other poet, +has given the world anything that can for a moment be taken into +consideration as equal to these tragedies; and Shakespeare himself left +us nothing equal to any one of them, taken as a whole and in detail; +although there are some parts of other late plays--"Macbeth," "Antony +and Cleopatra," "Troilus and Cressida," and "The Tempest"--which, in +their grandeur of imagination and splendor of language, bear the stamp +of this great period. + +And yet such was the merely stage-providing nature of Shakespeare's +work, that even "Hamlet," produced at the very height of his reputation, +is, like the Second and Third Parts of "King Henry VI.," which came from +his 'prentice hand, connected in some way, we do not know exactly what, +with a drama by an elder contemporary upon the same subject. There are +traces in contemporary satirical literature of a "Hamlet" which had been +performed as early as 1589, or possibly two years earlier. It is +remarkable that in the first edition of Shakespeare's "Hamlet" (1603) +Polonius is called Corambis, and Reynaldo, Montano; in which latter +names we may safely assume that we have relics of the old play; and, +although I am sure that in this edition of 1603 we have merely a +mutilated and patched-up version, surreptitiously obtained, and printed +in headlong haste, of the perfected play (in which opinion I differ from +some English scholars, whose learning and judgment I respect, but to +whom I would hold myself ready to prove, under forfeit, to their +satisfaction the correctness of my view); there are also in this +mutilated 1603 edition passages which not only are manifestly not what +Shakespeare wrote, but not even a mutilated form of what he wrote. They +are probably taken from the older play to supply the place of passages +of the new play which could not be obtained in time for the hasty +publication of this pirated edition of Shakespeare's tragedy. Remark, +here, in this hasty and surreptitious edition, evidence of the great +impression suddenly made by Shakespeare's "Hamlet." On its production it +became at once so popular that a piratical publisher was at the trouble +and expense of getting as much of the original as he could by unfair +means, and vamping this up with inferior and older matter to meet the +popular demand for reading copies. There is evidence of a like success +of "King Lear." Since the time when these plays were produced there has +been, we are called upon to believe, a great elevation of general +intelligence, and there surely has been a great diffusion of knowledge; +and yet it may be safely remarked that "Saratoga" and "Pique" and "The +Golden Age," which ran their hundred nights and more, are not quite +equal to "Hamlet" or to "King Lear," which, even with all their success, +did not run anything like a hundred nights; and we may as safely believe +that if "Hamlet" or "King Lear" were produced for the first time this +winter in New York or in London, there would not be such a great and +sudden demand for copies that extraordinary means would be taken by +publishers to supply it. This superiority of the general public taste in +dramatic literature during the Elizabethan era is one of the remarkable +phenomena in literary history; and it is one that remains unaccounted +for, and is, I think, altogether inexplicable, except upon the +assumption that theatres nowadays rely for their support upon a public +of low intellectual grade, and a taste for gross luxury and material +splendor. + +In reading "Hamlet" there is little opportunity of comparing it +instructively with any of its predecessors. Its principal personage is +entirely unlike any other created by Shakespeare. The play is all +Hamlet: the other personages are mere occasions for his presence and +means of his development. But Polonius is something the same kind of +man as old Capulet in "Romeo and Juliet;" and although there were +opportunities enough for the noble Veronese father to utter +sententiously the knowledge of the world which he had gained by living +in it, see how comparatively meagre and superficial his "wise saws" are +compared with the counsel that Polonius gives to his son and to his +daughter, and to the King and Queen; although Polonius, with all his +sagacity, is garrulous and a bore; in Hamlet's words, a tedious old +fool. As to Hamlet's character, Shakespeare did not mean it to be +altogether admirable or otherwise, but simply to be Hamlet--a perfectly +natural and not very uncommon man, although he expresses natural and not +uncommon feelings with the marvellous utterance of the great master of +dramatic poetry. And Hamlet's character is not altogether admirable; but +it is therefore none the less, but probably the more, deeply +interesting. How closely packed the play is with profound truths of life +philosophy is shown by the fact that it has contributed not only very +much more--four or five times more--than any other poem of similar +length to the storehouse of adage and familiar phrase, but at least +twice as much as any other of Shakespeare's plays. I know two boys who, +going to see the play for the first time, some years before the +appearance of a like story in the newspapers, came home and did +actually, in the innocence of their hearts, qualify the great admiration +they expressed for it by adding, "but how full it is of quotations." In +fact, about one eighth of this long play has become so familiar to the +world that it is in common use, and is recognized as the best expression +known of the thoughts that it embodies. This, however, is not an +absolute test of excellence, for it is remarkable that "King Lear" is +very much behind it, and also behind "Othello," in this respect; and +indeed there are several plays, including "Macbeth," "Julius Caesar," +"Henry IV.," "As You Like It," and "The Merchant of Venice," which are +richer than "King Lear" in passages familiarly quoted; and yet as to the +superiority of "King Lear" to the other plays I think there can be no +doubt. It is the greatest tragedy, the greatest dramatic poem, the +greatest book, ever written; so great is it, in fact, so vast in its +style, so lofty in its ideal, that to those who have reflected upon it +and justly apprehended it, it has become unplayable. As well attempt to +score the music of the spheres, or to paint "the fat weed that roots +itself in ease on Lethe wharf." In "King Lear" there is a personage who +may be very instructively compared with others of the same kind by the +student of Shakespeare's mental development. This is the Fool. +Shakespeare's fools or clowns (such as those in "Love's Labor's Lost" +and in "Hamlet") are among the most remarkable evidences of his ability +to make anything serve as the occasion and the mouthpiece of his wit and +his wisdom. He did not make the character; he found it on the stage, and +a favorite with a considerable part of the play-goers. It was, however, +as he found it, a very coarse character, rude as well as gross in +speech, and given to practical joking. He relieved it of all the +rudeness, if not of all the grossness, and reformed the joking +altogether; but he also filled the Fool's jesting with sententious +satire, and while preserving the low-comedy style of the character, +brought it into keeping with a lofty and even a tragic view of life. In +"King Lear" the Fool rises into heroic proportions, and becomes a sort +of conscience, or second thought, to Lear. Compared even with Touchstone +he is very much more elevated, and shows not less than Hamlet, or than +Lear himself, the grand development of Shakespeare's mind at this period +of its maturity. In the representation of Shakespeare's plays there has +been no greater affront to common sense than the usual presentation of +this Fool upon the stage as a boy, except the putting a pretty woman +into the part, dressed in such a way as to captivate the eye and divert +the attention by the beauty of her figure. It is disturbing enough to +see Ariel, sexless, but, like the angels, rather masculine than +feminine, represented by a woman dressed below the waist in an inverted +gauze saucer, and above the waist in a perverted gauze nothing; but to +see Lear's Fool thus unbedecked is more amazing than Bottom's brutal +translation was to his fellow actors. This Fool is a man of middle age, +one who has watched the world and grown sad over it. His jesting has a +touch of heart-break in it which is prevented from becoming pathetic +only by the cynicism which pertains partly to his personal character and +partly to his office. He and Kent are about of an age--Kent, who when +asked his age, as he comes back disguised to his old master, says, "Not +so young as to love a woman for her singing, nor so old as to dote on +her for anything; I have years on my back forty-eight"--a speech which +contains one of the finest of Shakespeare's minor touches of +worldly-wise character drawing. The German artist Retsch in his fine +outline illustrations of this play has conceived this Fool with fine +appreciation of Shakespeare's meaning. He makes him a mature man, with a +wan face and a sad, eager eye. The misrepresentation of the character +has its origin in Lear's calling the Fool "boy"--a term partly of +endearment and partly of patronage, which has been so used in all +countries and in all times. A similar misunderstanding of a similar word +_fool_, which Lear touchingly applies to Cordelia in the last +scene--"and my poor fool is hanged"--caused the misapprehension until of +late years[G] that Lear's court Fool was hanged--although why Edmund's +creatures should have been at the trouble in the stress of their +disaster to hang a Fool it would puzzle any one to tell. + +"Othello" bears throughout the marks of the same maturity of intellect, +and the same mastery of dramatic effect, that appear in "Hamlet" and in +"King Lear"; but from the nature of its subject it is not so profoundly +thoughtful as the others. It is a drama of action, which "Hamlet" is not +in a high degree; and although a grand example of the imaginative +dramatic style, it has the distinction of being the most actable of all +Shakespeare's tragedies. It is difficult to conceive any age or any +country in which "Othello" would not be an impressive and a welcome play +to any intelligent audience. Highly poetical in its treatment, it is +intensely real in its interest; and it must continue so until there is a +radical change in human nature. + +In the first of these articles I proposed to analyze and compare the +jealousy of Othello, Claudio, and Leontes; but I have abandoned the +design, partly because I find that it would require another article in +itself, and partly because it would necessarily lead me into a +psychological and physiological discussion which would hardly be in +keeping with the purpose with which I am now writing, which is merely to +offer such guidance and such help as I can give to intelligent and +somewhat inexperienced readers of Shakespeare. But I will remark that +Othello's jealousy is man's jealousy (so called) raised to the most +intense power by the race and the social position of the person who is +its subject. The feeling in man and that in woman, called jealousy, are +quite different in origin and in nature, although they have the same +name. In woman the feeling arises from a supposed slight of her person, +the _spretae injuria formae_ of Virgil, to which he attributes Juno's +enmity to Troy; and however it may be sentimentally developed, it has +this for its spring and its foundation. But a man, unless he is the +weakest of all coxcombs, and unworthy to wear his beard, does not +trouble himself because a woman admires another man's person more than +his own. His feeling has its origin in the motherhood of woman, a +recognition of which is latent in all social arrangements touching the +sex, and in all man's feeling toward her. Man's jealousy is a mingled +feeling of resentment of personal disloyalty, and of grief at unchastity +on the part of the woman that he loves. Man is jealous much in the same +sense in which it is said, "The Lord thy God is a jealous God"; which +saying, indeed, is a consequence of the anthropomorphic conception of +the Deity, notwithstanding the exclusion from it of the idea of sex. But +it is impossible to conceive of such a feeling as feminine jealousy +being referred to in the passage in the second commandment. The +"jealousy" of Othello and Leontes, and of Claudio, will be found on +examination to be at bottom the same. In Claudio it is correct, +gentlemanly, princely, and somewhat weak; in Leontes it is morbid, +unreasonable, hard, and cruel; in Othello it is perfectly pure in its +quality, and has in it quite as much of tenderness and grief as of wrath +and indignation; and it rages with all the fierceness of his half-savage +nature. The passion in him becomes heroic, colossal; but it is perfect +in its nature and in its proportions, and from the point to which he has +been brought by Iago, perfectly justifiable. Hence it is that it is so +respected by women. Nothing was more remarkable at Salvini's admirable +performance of Othello than the acquiescence of all his female auditors +in the fate of Desdemona. They were sorry for the poor girl, to be sure; +but they seemed to think that Desdemonas were made to be the victims of +Othellos, and that a man who could love in that fashion and be jealous +in that style of exalted fury was rather to be pitied and admired when +he smothered a woman on a misunderstanding. She should not have teased +him so to take back Cassio; and what could she have expected when she +was so careless about the handkerchief and told such lies about it! It +is somewhat unpleasant to be smothered, to be sure, but all the same +she ought to be content and happy to be the object of such love and the +occasion of such jealousy. They mourned far more over his fate than over +hers. This representation of manly jealousy, so elemental and simple, +and yet so stupendous, is one of Shakespeare's masterpieces. I mean not +merely in its verbal expression, but in its characteristic conception of +the masculine form of the passion. Compare it with the jealousy of any +of his women--of Adriana, of Julia, of Cleopatra, of Imogen, of +Regan--and see how different it is in kind; I will not say in degree; +for Shakespeare has not exhibited woman as highly deformed by this +passion; that he left for inferior dramatists, with whom it is a +favorite subject. + +In two of these tragedies we have Shakespeare's most elaborate and, so +to speak, admirable representations of villany: Edmund in "King Lear" +and Iago in "Othello." These vile creations cannot, however, be justly +regarded as the fruit of a lower view of human nature consequent upon a +longer acquaintance with it. They were merely required by the exigencies +of his plots; and being required, he made them as it was in him to do. +For in nothing is his superiority more greatly manifested than in the +fact that monsters of baseness, or even thoroughly base men, figure so +rarely among his _dramatis personae_. They are common with inferior +dramatists and writers of prose fiction, whose ruder hands need them as +convenient motive powers and as vehicles of the expression of a lower +view of human nature. Not so with him. He has weak and erring men--men +who are misled by their passions, ambition, revenge, selfish lust, or +what not; but Iago, Edmund, and the Duke in "Measure for Measure" are +almost all his characters of their kind. In "Richard III." he merely +painted a highly colored historical portrait; and Parolles, in "All's +Well that Ends Well," and Iachimo, in "Cymbeline," do not rise to the +dignity of even third-rate personages. Iago, it need hardly be said, is +the most perfect of all his creatures in this kind, and indeed he is the +most admirably detestable and infamous character in all literature. +Edmund is equally base and cruel; but compared with Iago he is a coarse, +low, brutal, and rabid animal. In Iago all the craft and venom of which +the human soul is capable is united with an intellectual subtlety which +seems to reach the limit of imagination or conception. There are some +who see in the making the bastard son in "Lear" the monster of +ingratitude and villany and the legitimate a model of all the manly and +filial virtues an evidence of Shakespeare's judgment and discrimination. +But this is one of those fond and over-subtle misapprehensions from +which Shakespeare has suffered in not a few instances, even at the hands +of critics of reputation. It suited Shakespeare's plot that the villain +should be the bastard; that is all; and Lear's legitimate daughters +Goneril and Regan are as base, as bad, and as cruelly ungrateful as +Gloucester's illegitimate son. Shakespeare knew human nature too well, +and handled it with too just and impartial a hand, to let the question +of legitimacy influence him in one way or the other. In "King John" we +have, on the contrary, the mean-souled Robert Faulconbridge and his +gallant and chivalrous bastard brother Philip. + +About the same time, or if not in the same time, perhaps in the same +year which saw the production of "King Lear," "Macbeth" was written. But +its date is not certain within four or five years. It was surely written +before 1610, in which year a contemporary diary records its performance +on the 20th of April. The Cambridge editors, in their annotated edition +of this play, in the "Clarendon Press" series, prefer the later date; +but notwithstanding my great respect for their judgment, I hold to my +conclusion for the earlier, for the reasons given in my own edition. The +question has not in itself much pertinence to our present purpose, as +there is no doubt that the tragedy was produced in this period, and its +general style, both of thought and versification, is that of Shakespeare +in its fullest development and vigor. But with the question of date +there is involved another of great interest to the thoughtful +reader--that of mixed authorship. In the introductory essay to my +edition of this play (published in 1861) attention was directed to the +internal evidence that it was hastily written and left unfinished.[H] +Subsequent editors and critics, notably the Cambridge editors and the +Rev. F. G. Fleay, in his "Shakespearian Manual," starting from this +view, have gone so far as to say that "Macbeth," as we have it, is not +all Shakespeare's, but in part the work of Thomas Middleton, a second or +third-rate playwright contemporary with Shakespeare, who wrote a play, +called "The Witch," which is plainly an imitation of the supernatural +scenes in this tragedy. The Cambridge editors believe that Middleton was +permitted to supply certain scenes at the time of the writing of +Macbeth: Mr. Fleay, that Middleton cut down and patched up Shakespeare's +perfected work, adding much inferior matter of his own, and that he did +this being engaged to alter the play for stage purposes. The latter +opinion I must reject, notwithstanding Mr. Fleay's minute, elaborate, +and often specious argument; but the opinion of the Cambridge editors +seems to me to a certain extent sound. I cannot, however, go to the +length which they do in rejecting parts of this play as not being +Shakespeare's work. This study of Shakespeare's style and of what is not +his work at a certain period of his life being directly to our purpose, +let us examine the tragedy for traces of his hand and of another. + +And first let the reader turn to Scene 5 of Act III., which consists +almost entirely of a long speech by Hecate, beginning: + + Have I not reason, beldames as you are, + Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare + To trade and traffic with Macbeth + In riddles and affairs of death: + And I, the mistress of your charms, + The close contriver of all harms, + Was never called to bear my part, + Or show the glory of our art? + +This speech is surely not of Shakespeare's writing. Its being in +octosyllabic rhyme is not against it, however; although he abandoned +rhyme almost altogether at or before this period. The fact of the +business of the scene being supernatural would account for its form. But +it is mere rhyme; little more than an unmeaning jingle of verses. Any +journeyman at versemaking would write such stuff. Read the speech +through, and then think of the writer of "Hamlet," and "Lear," and +"Othello," producing such a weak wash of words at the same time when he +was writing those tragedies. And even turn back and compare it with the +rhyming speeches of his other supernatural personages, of Puck and +Titana and Oberon in "A Midsummer Night's Dream," which he wrote at +least ten or twelve years earlier, and you will see that it is not only +so inferior, but so unlike his undoubted work that it must be rejected. +Turn next to Scene 3 of Act II., and read the speeches of the Porter. +Long ago Coleridge said of these, "This low soliloquy of the Porter and +his few speeches afterward I believe to have been written for the mob by +some other hand." That they were written for the mob is nothing against +them as Shakespeare's. Shakespeare wrote for the mob. He made a point of +putting in something for the groundlings[I] in every play that he wrote. +But with what a mighty hand he did it! so that those who have since then +sat in the highest seats in the world's theatre have laughed, and +pondered as they laughed. "Lear" is notably free from this element; but +even in the philosophical "Hamlet" we have the much elaborated scene of +the Gravediggers, which was written only to please Coleridge's "mob."[J] +But let the reader now compare these Porter's speeches in "Macbeth" with +those of the Gravediggers in "Hamlet," and if he is one who can hope to +appreciate Shakespeare at all, he will at this stage of his study see at +once that although both are low-comedy, technically speaking, the former +are low-lived, mean, thoughtless, without any other significance than +that of the surface meaning of the poor, gross language in which they +are written; while the latter, although, far more laughable even to the +most uncultivated hearer, are pregnant with thought and suggestion. +There can be no question that these speeches in "Macbeth" were written +by some other hand than Shakespeare's. + +Having now satisfied ourselves that some part of "Macbeth" is not +Shakespeare's (and I began with those so manifestly spurious passages to +establish that point clearly and easily in the reader's apprehension), +"we are in a proper mood of mind to consider the objections that have +been made by the Cambridge editors to other parts of the tragedy. The +whole second scene of Act I. is regarded as spurious because of +"slovenly metre," too slovenly for him even when he is most careless; +"bombastic phraseology," too bombastic for him even when he is most so; +also because he had too much good sense to send a severely wounded +soldier with the news of a victory. I cannot reject this scene for these +reasons. The question of metre and style is one of judgment; and the one +seems to me not more irregular and careless, and the other not more +tumid, than Shakespeare is in passages undoubtedly of his writing; while +there is a certain flavor of language in the scene and a certain roll of +the words upon the tongue which are his peculiar traits and tricks of +style. The point as to the wounded soldier seems to me a manifest +misapprehension. He is not sent as a messenger. Nothing in the text or +in the stage directions of the original edition gives even color to such +an opinion. The first two scenes of this act prepare one's mind for the +tragedy and lay out its action; and they do so, as far as design is +concerned, with great skill. The first short scene announces the +supernatural character of the agencies at work; the next tells us of the +personages who are to figure in the action and the position in which +they are placed. In the second scene King Duncan and his suite, marching +toward the scene of conflict, and so near it that they are within +ear-shot, if not arrow-shot, _meet_ a wounded officer. He is not sent to +them. He is merely retiring from the field severely wounded--so severely +that he cannot remain long uncared for. The stage direction of the folio +is "Alarum within," which means (as will be found by examining other +plays) that the sound of drums, trumpets, and the conflict of arms is +heard. Then, "Enter King, etc., etc., _meeting_ a bleeding Captaine." +The King, then, does not greet or regard him as a messenger, but +exclaims, "What bloody man is that?" and adds, "He _can_ report, as +_seemeth by his plight_, the condition of the revolt." Plainly this is +no messenger, but a mere wounded officer who leaves the field because, +as he says, his "gashes cry for help." + +In Act IV., Sc. 1, this speech of the First Witch after the "Show of +Eight Kings," is plainly not Shakespeare's: + + Ay, sir, all this is so; but why + Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? + Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, + And show the best of our delights. + I'll charm the air to give a sound, + While you perform your antic round, + That this great king may kindly say + Our duties did his welcome pay. + +This is condemned by the Cambridge editors, and I agree entirely with +them. Moreover it seems to be manifestly from the same hand as Hecate's +speech (Act III., Sc. 5), previously referred to. The style shows this, +and the motive is the same--the introduction of fairy business, dancing +and singing, which have nothing to do with the action of the tragedy, +and are quite foreign to the supernatural motive of it as indicated in +the witch scenes which have the mark of Shakespeare's hand. + +In Act IV., Sc. 3, the passage in regard to touching for the King's +Evil, from "Enter a Doctor" to "full of grace," was, we may be pretty +sure, an interpolation previous to a representation at court, as the +Cambridge editors suggest, and it is probably not Shakespeare's; but I +would not undertake to say so positively. The same editors say they +"have doubts about the second scene of Act V." I notice this not merely +to express my surprise at it, but to let the reader see how difficult it +is to arrive at a general consent upon such points which are merely +matters of judgment. To me this scene is unmistakably Shakespeare's. Who +else could have written this passage, not only for its excellence but +for its peculiarity? + + _Caithness._--Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies: + Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him, + Do call it valiant fury; but for certain + _He cannot buckle his distempered cause + Within the belt of rule._ + + _Angus._-- Now does he feel + _His secret murders sticking on his hands_; + Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach; + Those he commands move only in command, + Nothing in love; _now does he feel his title + Hang loose about him like a giant's robe + Upon a dwarfish thief_. + +I am sure that I should have suspected those lines to be Shakespeare's +if I had first met them without a name, in a nameless book. Still more +surprising is it to me to find these editors saying that in Act V., Sc. +5, lines 47-50 are "singularly weak." Here they are: + + If this which he avouches does appear, + There is no flying hence or tarrying here. + I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, + And wish the estate of the world were now undone. + +The first two have no particular character, nor need they have any, as +they merely introduce the last two, which contain an utterance of blank +despair and desolation which seems to me more expressive than any other +that I ever read. + +The last passage of the play, that after line 34, when Macbeth and +Macduff go off fighting, and Macbeth is killed, are probably, as the +Cambridge editors suggest, by another hand than Shakespeare's. Their +tameness and their constrained rhythm are not Shakespearian work, +particularly at this period of his life, and in the writing of such a +scene. "Nor would he," as the Cambridge editors say, "have drawn away +the veil which with his fine tact he had dropped over her [Lady +Macbeth's] fate by telling us that she had taken off her life 'by self, +and violent hands.'" + +The person who wrote these un-Shakespearian passages was probably +Middleton. Shakespeare, writing the tragedy in haste for an occasion, +received a little help, according to the fashion of the time, from +another playwright; and the latter having imitated the supernatural +poets of this play in one of his own, the players or managers afterward +introduced from that play songs by him--"Music and a song, Come away, +come away," Act III., Sc. 5, and "Music and a song, Black spirits," +etc., Act IV., Sc. 1. This was done to please the inferior part of the +audience. These songs and all this sort of operatic incantation are +entirely foreign to the supernatural motive of the tragedy as +Shakespeare conceived it. And I will here remark that the usual +performance of "Macbeth" with "a chorus" and "all Locke's music" is a +revolting absurdity. + +My next paper will close this series with an examination of some of +Shakespeare's least known dramas. + + RICHARD GRANT WHITE. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote G: Since 1854.] + +[Footnote H: For the convenience of readers to whom my edition is not +accessible I quote the following passage: + + "I am more inclined to this opinion from the indications which the + play itself affords that it was produced upon an emergency. It + exhibits throughout the hasty execution of a grand and clearly + conceived design. But the haste is that of a master of his art, + who, with conscious command of its resources, and in the frenzy of + a grand inspiration, works out his conception to its minutest + detail of essential form, leaving the work of surface finish for + the occupation of cooler leisure. What the Sistine Madonna was to + Raphael, it seems that 'Macbeth' was to Shakespeare--a magnificent + impromptu; that kind of impromptu which results from the + application of well-disciplined powers and rich stores of thought + to a subject suggested by occasion. I am inclined to regard + 'Macbeth' as, for the most part, a specimen of Shakespeare's + unelaborated, if not unfinished, writing, in the maturity and + highest vitality of his genius. It abounds in instances of + extremest compression and most daring ellipsis; while it exhibits + in every scene a union of supreme dramatic and poetic power, and in + almost every line an imperially irresponsible control of language. + Hence, I think, its lack of formal completeness of versification in + certain passages, and also of the imperfection in its text, the + thought in which the compositors were not always able to follow and + apprehend. The only authority for the text of 'Macbeth' is the + folio of 1623, the apparent corruptions of which must be restored + with a more than usually cautious hand. Without being multitudinous + or confusing, they are sufficiently numerous and important to test + severely the patience, acumen, and judgment of any editor."--_"The + Works of William Shakespeare." Vol. X., P._ 424.] + +[Footnote I: So called because they stood on the ground. The pit was +then a real pit, and its floor was the bare earth. There were no +benches. It was so in the French theatre until a much later period. +Hence the French name _parterre_ for the pit--_par terre_, upon the +ground. The name _parquet_, which is given to that part of a theatre in +America, is not French, and is no word at all, but a miserable affected +nonentity of sound.] + +[Footnote J: The reader who cares to do so will find something upon this +point in my essay on Shakespeare's genius, "Life and Genius of +Shakespeare," pp. 280, 281.] + + + + +APPLIED SCIENCE. + +A LOVE STORY IN TWO CHAPTERS. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +The village of Salmon Falls, in eastern New England, consists of a +number of mills and factories, the railroad station, a store or two, and +two hundred dwellings. Among these is the Denny mansion at the top of +the hill, where the road climbs up from the station and the river. It is +a large square house in the old colonial fashion, with two wings at the +rear and a garden in front. + +It was a warm July morning when Mr. John Denny, mill owner and +proprietor of the homestead, had his chair rolled out to the porch, and +with some assistance from the servants, reached it on his crutch and sat +down in the shadow of the great house and out of the glare of the hot +sun. The vine-covered porch and the wide piazza opened directly upon the +garden and gave a full view of the road. Beyond there was an outlook +over the open fields, the mills, the stream, and the village in the +valley. By the road there was a stone wall and a wicker gate opening +upon the grassy sidewalk outside. A table had been laid with a white +cloth in the porch, and Mr. Denny sat by it and waited for the coming of +his daughter and breakfast. While he sat thus he turned over a number of +papers, and then, after a while, he began to talk to himself somewhat in +this wise: + +"Expense! expense! expense! There seems no end to it. Bills coming in +every day, and every one larger than was expected. In my young days we +built a shop and knew to a dollar what it would cost. Now the estimates +are invariably short. The batting mill has already gone a thousand +dollars beyond the estimates, and the roof is but just put on. Even the +new chimney cost four dollars a foot more than was expected. Thank +Heaven, it is done, and that expense is over. Could I walk, I might look +after things and keep them within bounds. With my crushed foot I sit a +prisoner at home, and must leave all to Lawrence. It is fortunate that I +have one man I can trust with my affairs." + +Just here Alma, his only child, a bright and wholesome girl of nineteen, +appeared from the house. Fairly educated, sensible, and affectionate, +but perhaps a trifle inexperienced by reason of her residence in this +quiet place, she is at once the pride and the light of the house. + +"Good morning, father. Are you well this happy summer's day?" + +The old gentleman kissed her fondly, and asked did she pass a quiet +night. + +"Oh, yes. I didn't sleep much, that is all--for thinking." + +"Thinking of what?" + +"The expected guest. To-day is the 9th of July, and cousin Elmer comes." + +"Ah, yes--Elmer Franklin. I had almost forgotten him." + +"How does he look, father? Is his hair dark, or has he blue eyes? I +hardly know which I like best." + +"I do not remember. I've not seen the boy since he was a mere child, +years ago. He has been at school since." + +"He must be a man now. He is past twenty-one, and, as for school, why, +it's the Scientific School, and I'm sure men go to that." + +"You seem greatly interested in this unknown relative, Alma." + +"He is to be our guest, father--for a whole month. Come! Will you have +breakfast out here in the porch?" + +"Yes, dear. It is quite comfortable here, and it will save the trouble +of moving." + +Thereupon Alma entered the house in search of the breakfast, and a +moment after Mr. Lawrence Belford entered the garden at the street gate. +The son of an old friend of Mr. Denny's lamented wife, Mr. Belford had +been admitted to the house some months since as confidential clerk and +business man. He was a rather commonplace person, about thirty years of +age, and his education and manners were good if not remarkable. During +his residence with the Dennys he had found time to fall in love with +Alma, and they had been engaged--and with Mr. Denny's consent. + +"Good morning, Lawrence. You're just in time for breakfast." + +"Good morning, sir. Thank you, no. I have been to breakfast. I am just +up from the station." + +"Seen anything of the railroad coach? The train is in, and it is time +for the coach to pass. Our guest may be in it." + +"No, sir, but I saw the express coming up the hill with an extra large +load of baggage." + +Just here Alma returned from the house bearing a large tray of plates +and breakfast things. The young people greet each other pleasantly, and +Alma proceeds to lay the table. + +"Now for breakfast, father. Everything waits upon a good appetite. Will +you not join us, Lawrence?" + +Mr. Belford replies that he has been to breakfast. Mr. Denny takes a cup +of coffee, and while sipping it remarks: + +"How many more window-frames shall you require for the new mill, +Lawrence?" + +"Ten more, sir. There is only a part of the fourth story unfinished." + +"Alma, dear, do you remember how high we decided the new chimney was to +be? Yes, thank you, only two lumps of sugar. Thank you. You remember we +were talking about it when the Lawsons were here." + +"Don't ask me. Ask Lawrence. I never can remember anything about such +matters." + +Just at that moment the express pulled up at the gate, and there was a +knock. Alma rose hastily, and said: + +"Oh! That must be Elmer." + +She opened the gate, and young Mr. Elmer Franklin of New York entered. A +man to respect: an open, manly face, clear blue eyes, and a wiry, +compact, and vigorous frame. A man with a sound mind in a sound body. He +was dressed in a gray travelling suit, and had a knapsack strapped to +his back; in his hand a stout stick looking as if just cut from the +roadside, and at his side a field glass in a leather case. Immediately +behind him came a man bending under the load of an immense trunk. Alma +smiled her best, and the young stranger bowed gallantly. + +"Mr. Denny, I presume?" + +"Welcome, cousin Franklin," said Mr. Denny from his chair. "I knew you +at once, though it is years since any members of our families have met. +Pardon me if I do not rise. I'm an old man, and confined to my chair." + +Mr. Franklin offered his hand and said politely: + +"Thank you, sir, for your kind reception. I am greatly pleased to---- +Hullo! Look out there, boys! That baggage is precious and fragile." + +Another man appeared, and the two brought in trunks and boxes, bundles +and parcels, till there was quite a large heap of baggage piled up on +the grass. Alma and Lawrence were properly amazed at this array of +things portable, and Mr. Denny laid aside the breakfast things to look +at the rather remarkable display. + +The young man seemed to think apologies essential. + +"I do not wonder that you are alarmed. I do not often take such a load +of traps. I wrote you that my visit would be one of study and scientific +investigation, and I was obliged to bring my philosophical apparatus and +books with me." + +"It is indeed a wonderful train of luggage for a man. One would have +thought you intended to bring a wife." + +Then Mr. Denny bethought him of his duty, and he introduced his newly +found relative to his daughter and to Mr. Lawrence Belford, and then +bade him draw up to the table for breakfast. The young man made the +motions suitable for such an occasion, and then he turned to pay his +expressman. This trifling incident deserves record as happily +illustrating the young man's noble character. + +"Thank you, sir. Breakfast will be a cheerful episode. I've a glorious +appetite, for I walked up from the station." + +"There's a coach, Mr. Franklin, and it passes our door." + +"I knew that, sir, but I preferred to walk and see the country. Fine +section of conglomerate you have in the road cutting just above the +station." + +"Eh! What were you saying?" + +"I said that I observed an interesting section of +conglomerate--water-worn pebbles, I should say--mingled with quartz +sand, on the roadside. I must have a run down there and a better look at +it after breakfast." + +Mr. Denny was somewhat overwhelmed at this, and said doubtfully, + +"Ah, yes, I remember--yes, exactly." + +"Are you interested in geology, Miss Denny?" + +Alma was rather confused, and tried hard to find the lump of sugar that +had melted away in her coffee, and said briefly, + +"No. I didn't know that we had any in this part of the country." + +Mr. Belford here felt called upon to say: + +"My dear Alma, you forget yourself." + +"Why will you take me up so sharply, Lawrence? I meant to say that I +didn't know we had any quartz conglomerate hereabouts." + +Mr. Franklin smiled pleasantly, and remarked to himself: + +"My dear Alma! That's significant. Wonder if he's spooney on her?" + +Then he said aloud: + +"The pursuit of science demands good dinners. Pardon me if I take some +more coffee." + +"Yes, do--and these rolls. I made them myself--expressly for you." + +"Thank you for both rolls and compliment." + +Mr. Lawrence took up some of the papers from the table and began to read +them, and the others went on with their breakfast. Presently Mr. Denny +said: + +"I presume, Mr. Franklin, that you are greatly interested in your school +studies?" + +"Yes, sir. The pursuit of pure science is one of the most noble +employments that can tax the cultivated intellect." + +"But you must confess that it is not very practical." + +Before the young man could reply Alma spoke: + +"Oh! cousin Elmer--I mean Mr. Franklin--excuse me. You haven't taken off +your knapsack." + +Taking it off and throwing it behind him on the ground, he said: + +"It's only my clothes." + +"Clothes!" said Mr. Denny. "Then what is in the trunks?" + +"My theodolite, cameras, chains, levels, telescopes, retorts, and no end +of scientific traps." + +Alma, quite pleased: + +"How interesting. Won't you open one of the trunks and let us see some +of the things?" + +"With the greatest pleasure; but perhaps I'd better take them to my room +first." + +"Anything you like, Elmer--Mr. Franklin, I mean. Our house is your +home." + +Lawrence Belford here frowned and looked in an unpleasant manner for a +moment at the young stranger, who felt rather uncomfortable, though he +could scarcely say why. With apparent indifference he drew out a small +brass sounder, such as is used in telegraph offices, and began snapping +it in his fingers. + +In his mind he said: + +"Wonder if any of them are familiar with the great dot and line +alphabet!" + +Alma heard the sounder and said eagerly: + +"Oh! cou--Mr. Franklin, what is that?" + +"It is a pocket sounder. Do you know the alphabet?" + +"I should hope so." + +"I beg pardon. I meant Morse's." + +"Morse's?" + +"Yes. Morse's alphabet." + +"No. You must teach it to me." + +Thereupon he moved the sounder slowly, giving a letter at a time, and +saying: + + "A - -- L - -- - - M -- -- A - --. + +That's your name. Queer sound, isn't it?" + +"Let me try. Perhaps I could do it." + +"My dear Alma, your father is waiting. You had best remove the things." + +"Yes, Lawrence. I'll call Mary." + +The maid soon appeared, and the breakfast things were removed. Then Mr. +Denny drew Mr. Franklin's attention to the new factory chimney that +stood in plain sight from where they sat. + +The young man promptly drew out his field glass, and, mounting one of +the steps of the porch, took a long look at the new shaft. + +"Not quite plumb, is it?" + +"Not plumb! What do you mean?" + +"It is impossible," said Mr. Belford with some warmth. + +"It looks so," said the young man with the glass still up at his eyes. + +"I tell you it is impossible, sir. I built it myself, and I ought to +know." + +"Oh! Beg pardon. You can take the glass and see for yourself." + +"I need no glass. I took the stage down only yesterday, and I ought to +know." + +"Allow me to take your glass, cousin Franklin," said Mr. Denny. He took +the glass, but quickly laid it down with a sigh. + +"My eyes are old and weak, and the glass does not suit them. I am very +sorry to hear what you say. I would not have one of my chimneys out of +line for the world." + +"I am sorry I said anything about it, sir. I did not know the chimney +belonged to you." + +Alma was apparently distressed at the turn the conversation had taken, +and tried to lead it to other matters, but the old gentleman's mind was +disturbed, and he returned to the chimney. + +"I designed it to be the tallest and finest chimney I ever erected, and +I hope it is all correct." + +"It is, sir," said Mr. Belford. "Everything is correct to the very +capstones." + +"It is my tallest chimney, Mr. Franklin--eighty-one feet and six inches; +and that is two feet taller than any chimney in the whole Salmon Falls +valley." + +Mr. Franklin, in an innocent spirit of scientific inquiry, put his glass +to his eyes and examined the chimney again. Alma began to feel ill at +ease, and Lawrence Belford indulged in a muttered curse under his black +moustache. + +"Eighty-one feet and six inches--the tallest chimney in the valley." + +No one seemed to heed the old gentleman's remark, and presently Mr. +Franklin laid his field glass on the table, and taking out his brass +sounder, he idly moved it as if absently thinking of something. + +Alma suddenly looked up with a little blush and a smile. Her eyes seemed +to say to him: + +"I heard you call? What is it?" + +He nodded pleasantly, and said, "Would you like to see some of my +traps?" + +"Oh, yes. Do open one of your trunks." + +Mr. Franklin took out a bunch of keys and went to one of the trunks. As +he did so he said to himself: + +"Deuced bright girl! She learned my call in a flash. I must teach her +the whole alphabet, and then will have some tall fun and circumvent that +fool of a clerk." + +This remark was applied to Mr. Belford, and was eminent for its touching +truth. + +While the young people were opening the trunk, Mr. Denny and Mr. Belford +were engaged in examining the business papers spread on the table, and +for several minutes they paid no attention to things done and said +almost under their eyes. + +Such a very strange trunk. Instead of clothing, it contained the most +singular assortment of scientific instruments. Each was carefully +secured so that no rude handling would harm it, and all shining and +glistening brilliantly as if kept with the most exquisite care. Mr. +Franklin unfastened a small brass telescope, mounted upon a stand, with +a compass, levels, plumb line, and weight attached. + +"That's my theodolite. There's a tripod in one of my boxes. I'll get it +and mount it, and we'll have a shot at the chimney. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Oh, nothing! I'm going to measure it. Wouldn't you like to help me?" + +"With all my heart. Tell me what to do." + +"Presently. Wait till I've screwed things together; then I'll tell you +what to do. Oh! By the way, I must tell you an amusing episode that +happened at the railroad station while I was waiting for my luggage. +There was a young man sending off a message at the little telegraph +station, and I overheard the message and the comments of the operator." + +Alma didn't appear to enjoy this incident. + +"Not listening intentionally, you know. It was the telegraph I heard, +not the people." + +Alma felt better. + +"It was all by mere sounds, and it ran this way: 'The old fool is here +again.' That's what she said--the operator, I mean. 'To Isaac Abrams, +1,607 Barclay street, New York. I have secured the will. Foreclose the +mortgage and realize at once. Get two state rooms for the 25th.--L. B.' +That was the message, and it was so very strange I wrote it out in +my---- Oh! Beg pardon, Miss Denny. Are you ill?" + +Alma's face had assumed a sudden pallor, and she seemed frightened and +ill at ease. + +"'Tis nothing--really nothing! I shall be better presently." + +Then, as if anxious to change the conversation, she began to ask rapid +questions about the theodolite and its uses. + +Mr. Franklin was too well bred to notice anything, but he confessed to +himself that he had said something awkward, and, for the life of him, he +could not imagine what it might be. He replied briefly, and then went on +with his preparations for some time in silence, Alma meanwhile looking +on with the greatest interest. The theodolite having been put together, +Mr. Franklin opened another box and took out a wooden tripod, such as +are used to support such instruments. He also took out a fine steel +ribbon, or measuring tape, neatly wound up on a reel. + +"You shall carry that, Miss Denny, and I'll shoulder the theodolite." + +"Wait till I get my hat and the sun umbrella." + +"To be sure; it will be warm in the fields." + +Alma was soon arrayed in a dainty chip. At least she called it a chip, +and the historian can do naught but repeat her language. Besides this, +it was not bigger than a chip, and it looked very pretty tied under her +chin. Over her head she carried its real protection, an immense Japanese +paper umbrella, light, airy, and generous. + +"Where are you going, Alma?" said Mr. Denny. + +"Oh! only to the fields for a little walk. We'll be back presently." + +The confidential clerk thought it strange that the daughter of the +house should be so free with the stranger. But the young people were +distant cousins, and it wouldn't have been polite in him to have +objected to the little walk. + +So the two, under the friendly shade of the big paper umbrella, went out +to see the new chimney, while Mr. Denny and the confidential clerk staid +behind to talk business. + +The new chimney stood at the southeast corner of the great four-story +mill, and close beside the little brick engine house. Alma led the +youthful son of science out of the gate, down the road a few rods, and +then they passed a stile, and took the winding path that straggled over +the pastures to the mill. + +Of course they talked volubly. This being the stern and prosy record of +applied science, it becomes us not to report the chatterings of these +two till they reached the base of the vast brick chimney, towering +nearly eighty feet into the air above them. Its long shadow lay like a +stiffened snake upon the fields, and Elmer, observing it, said: + +"Good! We can use the shadow, too, and have double proof." + +"How?" said the bright one, in a beautiful spirit of inquiry. + +"If an upright stick, a foot long, casts a shadow three feet long, the +shadow of another stick beside it, at the same time, is proportionally +long." + +"I knew that before. That isn't very high science." + +"Why did you say 'how'?" + +"Because I didn't think. Because I was a goose." + +"Such terms are not choice, and are devoid of truth. Here! stern duty +calls. Do you hold one end of the tape at the foot of the chimney, and +I'll measure off the base line of our triangle." + +Alma was charmed to be of use, and sat on a stone with the brass ring of +the tape on her ring finger next her engagement ring, and her hand flat +against the first course of bricks. Trifles sometimes hint great +events. Little did she think that the plain brass ring on her finger was +the hard truth of science that should shiver her gold ring to fragments +and pale its sparkling diamond. Being a wholesome creature, and not +given to romance, she thought nothing about it, which was wise. Her +cousin, the knight of the theodolite, set his instrument upright upon +the grass, and then ran the measuring line out to its full length. + +"All right! Let the tape go." + +Alma took off the brass ring, and the steel ribbon ran like a glittering +snake through the grass, and she slowly followed it and joined her +knight. + +"Once more, please. Hold the ring on this bit of a stake that I've set +up in the ground." + +Alma, like a good girl, did as she was bid, and the ribbon ran out again +to its full length. Another stake was set up, and the theodolite was +placed in position and a sight obtained at the top of the tall chimney. +A little figuring in a note-book, and then the son of high science +quietly remarked: + +"Seventy-six feet four inches--short five feet two inches." + +Just here several urchins of an inquiring turn of mind drew near and +began to make infantile comments, and asked with charming freedom if it +was circus. + +"No!" said Alma, from under her paper tent. "No! Run away, children, run +away." + +It was too warm for so much exertion, and they wouldn't move. + +"Oh! never mind them. They don't trouble me; and if it amuses them, it's +so much clear gain." + +"They are some of the factory children, and I thought they might bother +you." + +"Inelegant, but thoughtful." He didn't say so. He only thought it, which +was quite as well. + +During this little episode the impressive facts that all this scientific +exertion had brought out concerning the chimney were lost upon Alma. It +was small consequence. She knew it well enough before night. + +Now for the shadow by way of proof. The theodolite, paper umbrella, and +admiring crowd of children trotted severally and collectively over the +grass till they reached the chimney again. + +"The tape-measure, Alma. You hold the ring, and I'll unreel the string." + +It was surprising how quickly these two made each other's acquaintance. +By the time the long shadow was measured, a stake set up, and the two +shadows compared, they seemed to have known each other for weeks. Such +is the surprising effect of pure science when applied to love. + +Had it come to this already? She was engaged to the confidential, the +chimney-builder. His ring glittered on her finger. True--all of it! + +See them sauntering slowly (the thermometer at 87 deg.) homeward under +the friendly shade of an oiled paper umbrella. They are indeed good +friends already. They enter the house together, and the cheerful dinner +bell greets their ears. She folds her oiled paper tent and he sets his +instrument up in a corner of the great shady hall. She leads the way to +the chamber that is to be his room during his stay, and then retires to +her own to prepare for the frugal noontide meal. + +The exact truth records that the meal was not severely frugal. It was +otherwise, and so much nicer. + +The entire family were assembled, and conversation was lively, +considering the weather. Near the close of the meal it grew suddenly +warm. The innocent son of science, proud of his accomplishments, made a +most incautious statement, and the result was peculiar. + +"Oh, uncle, you were saying this morning that my science was not very +practical. I tried a bit of it on your chimney this morning, and what do +you think I found?" + +"I'm sure I can't tell," said Mr. Denny. + +"I measured it, and it is exactly seventy-six feet, four inches high." + +If he had dropped a can of nitro-glycerin under the table, the effect +couldn't have been more startling. Mr. Lawrence Belford dropped his +fruit knife with a ruinous rattle, his face assumed the color of frosted +cake (the frosting, to be exact), and he seemed thoroughly frightened. +Mr. Denny looked surprised, and said, + +"What?" + +Alma said nothing, but fished for the sugar in her strawberries and +cream. + +"What did you say, Mr. Franklin?" + +"I said that I measured the new chimney, just for the fun of the thing, +and found that it is exactly seventy-six feet, four inches high." + +"It's an abominable lie." + +"Lawrence!" said Alma, with an appealing glance. + +"Are you sure, Mr. Franklin? Have you not made some mistake?" + +"You are utterly mistaken, Mr. Franklin. I measured that chimney with a +line from the top, and I know your statement is entirely incorrect." + +"I hope so," said the old gentleman. + +"It is so, sir," added Mr. Belford; and then, waxing bolder, he said, +"How could this young person, just from school, know anything of such +matters? Did he build a staging, or did he climb up the inside like a +chimney sweep?" + +Young Mr. Franklin saw that he had in some innocent fashion started a +most disagreeable subject. Why Mr. Denny should be so disturbed and Mr. +Belford so angry was past his comprehension. At the same time Mr. +Belford's language was offensive, and he replied with some spirit: + +"There is no need to climb the chimney, or use a line. It is a trifling +affair to ascertain the height of any building with a theodolite, as you +probably know." + +"I tell you, sir, it is false--utterly false. Besides, you have made +some mistake in the figures. You--you--but I've no patience with such +boy's play. It's only fit for school children." + +"Lawrence," said Alma, "you are unkind. I'm sure we meant no harm. I +helped Mr. Franklin, and I'm sure he's right; besides, we measured the +chimney by its shadow, and both statements were alike." + +"Oh, if you've turned against me, I've nothing more to say." + +Mr. Denny meanwhile seemed lost in deep study, and he hardly heeded what +was going on. + +"What can that boy know about such things? I tell you, it's----" + +"It seems to me, Mr. Belford, you are unnecessarily excited," said Mr. +Denny. "Mr. Franklin is a much younger man than you, but he showed a +knowledge of this matter, and if his figures are correct----" + +"They are, sir," said Elmer warmly. "I can show you the base line, and +the theodolite is still at the same angle. Alma saw me measure the base, +and she can tell you its length. There are the figures in my note-book." + +Mr. Denny took the note-book and examined the figuring out of this +problem, and Elmer went to the hall for his instrument. He returned with +the theodolite still secured at the angle at which the sight had been +taken. As he laid the instrument on the dining table, he said: + +"I am very sorry, uncle, that I did anything about this matter. It was +done in mere sport, and I wish I had said nothing concerning it. I would +not had not Mr. Belford used the language he did." + +Mr. Denny ran his eye over the figures in the book, and then, with a +pained expression, he said briefly, + +"Everything seems to be correct." + +"Damnation! I'll break his head for him, the intermeddling fool." This +language was not actually used by Mr. Belford, but he thought as much. +His eyes flashed, and he clenched his fists under the table. Alma's +presence alone restrained him from something more violent. He appeared +calm, but inwardly he was angry. This unexpected announcement +concerning the chimney he had built cast a heavy shadow over him, and +his conscience awoke with a sudden smart. + +Alma was greatly disturbed, and ready to cry for shame and vexation. She +did not, for she felt sure this was only the beginning of a new trouble, +and she well knew that heavy sorrows had already invaded the house. They +needed no more. + +Mr. Franklin glanced from one to another in alarm. He saw that he was +treading upon uncertain ground, and he wisely held his peace. After a +brief and awkward pause, Mr. Belford rose, and pleading the calls of +business, went out, and the unhappy interview came to an end. + + * * * * * + +It was a strange room. Its belongings stranger still. A large square +chamber, with windows on three sides and a door and a fireplace on the +other. Just now the fireplace had fallen from its high estate and had +become a catch-all for the wrecks of much unpacking. There was a small +single bed, two chairs, and an indefinite number of tables. Impossible +to say how many, for they were half obscured by numberless things +scientific: microscopes, a retort, small furnace, two cameras, galvanic +battery, coils of wire and rubber tubing, magic lantern, books, +photographs, and papers; on a small desk a confused pile of papers; on +the walls a great number of pictures and photographs. + +The very den of a student of science. Hardly room to walk among the +wilderness of traps, boxes, and trunks. At the window, the young man, +just dressed, and taking a view of the mill and its new chimney. + +"Gad! how mad the fellow was over my little measurements. Wonder what it +all means? The girl's in trouble, the father has a grief, and the +clerk--I can make nothing of him. What matter? My duty is with my books, +that I may pursue pure science. The moment things become practical I +drop 'em." + +Then he turned and looked out of the next window. + +"Fine view of the river. I must have another try at it with the camera." + +He crossed the room, and standing in the bright morning sunshine, he +looked about to examine the other L that had been thrown out from the +back of the main building. + +"That's Alma's room, and the next is the clerk's, the chimney man. The +window is open, and the place looks as dark as a cave. I've a mind to +light it up." + +So saying he took a small hand mirror from a table near by. Holding it +in the full sunlight, he moved it slowly about till the dancing spot of +reflected light fell upon the open window and leaped in upon the +opposite wall of the room. The observer with steady hand moved the spot +of light about till he had probed the room, and found all it contained, +which was nothing save a bed and two chairs. + +"Applied science reports the man is fit for treason, spoils, and that +sort of thing. He has no pictures. His room is a sleeping den. The man +is a----Hallo! Steady there!" + +The door in the room opened, and the student of applied science turned +quickly away with his back to the wall beside his window. Cautiously +raising the mirror, he held it near the window in such a way that in it +he could see all that went on in the other room, without being himself +seen. + +Suddenly he saw something in the glass. Some one appeared at the window, +looked out as if watching for something, and then withdrew into the bare +little sleeping room. Then the figure in the mirror went to the bed and +carefully turned all the clothes back. The student of science watched +the mirror intently. The figure bent over the uncovered mattress and +quietly opened the sacking and took something out. It sat down on the +edge of the disordered bed and proceeded to examine the box or bundle, +whatever it might be, that it had found in the bed. + +Just here there was the sound of a distant door opening and closing. The +figure crouched low on the bed, as if fearing to be seen, and waited +till all was quiet again. Then it slowly opened the box or package, and +took out a folded paper. The student bent over the mirror with the +utmost interest. What did it mean? What would happen next? Nothing in +particular happened. The figure closed the box, returned it to its +hiding place in the bed, and then crept out of the range of reflected +vision. + +Why should the confidential clerk hide papers in his bed? What was the +nature of the documents? A strange affair, certainly, but it did not +concern him, and perhaps he had better drop the subject. He turned to +his books and papers, and for an hour or more was too much occupied with +them to heed aught else. + +Suddenly there was a brisk series of taps at his door, like this: + + - - -- - - -- -- - - -- -- + +"I'm here. Come in." + +Alma, the bright one entered. + +"What a room! Such disorder, Elmer." + +"Yes. It is quite a comfortable den. I've unpacked everything, and--mind +your steps--feel quite at home--thank you." + +"I should say as much. Do look at the dust. I must have Mary up here at +once." + +"Madam, I never allow any female person to touch my traps. Mary may make +the bed, but she must not sweep, nor dust, nor touch anything." + +"Oh! really. Then I'll go at once." + +"Better not." + +"Why?" + +"Because I've many things to show----" + +"Oh, Elmer! What is that--that queer thing on the table? May I look at +it?" + +"That's my new camera." + +"How stupid. I might have known that. Do you take pictures?" + +"Photos? Yes. Will you sit?" + +"Oh, dear, no. I hate photographs. It's so disagreeable to see oneself +staring with some impossible expression, and sitting in an impossible +palace, with a distant landscape and drapery curtains." + +"Then I'll take a view for you. Find a seat somewhere while I rig +things. See those two people sitting on the little bridge that crosses +the race beyond the mill? I'll photograph them without their +permission." + +Alma looked out of the window when Elmer had raised the curtain, but +declared she couldn't see anything. + +"They are very far off. Take the field glass, and you'll see them." + +Alma took the glass from the table, and looked out on the sunny +landscape. + +"I see what you mean, but I can't make out who they are, even with the +glass. It's a man and a woman, and that's as much as I can see." + +"You shall see them plain enough in a moment." + +So saying, Elmer placed a long brass telescope upon a stand by the open +window, and through it he examined the couple on the bridge. Meanwhile +Alma gazed round the room and examined its strange contents with the +greatest interest. + +The moment the focus of the glass was secured, Elmer hastily took the +little camera, and adjusting a slide in it from a table drawer, he +placed it before the telescope on the table and close to the eye hole. +Then, by throwing a black cloth over his head, he looked into it, turned +a screw or two, and in a moment had a negative of the distant couple. + +"Aren't you almost ready?" + +"In one moment, Alma. I must fix this first. I'll be right back." + +So saying he took the slide from the little camera, and went out of the +room into a dark closet in the entry. + +Alma waited patiently for a few moments, and then she took up the field +glass, and looked out of the window. Who could they be? They seemed to +be having a cosy time together; but beyond the fact that one figure was +a woman she could learn nothing. She wanted to take a look through the +telescope, but did not dare to move the little camera that stood before +it. + +"Here's the picture," said Elmer as he entered the room. + +Alma took the bit of glass he offered her, but declared she couldn't see +anything but a dirty spot on the glass. + +"That's the negative. Let me copy it, and then I'll throw it up with the +stereopticon." + +He selected another bit of glass from a box, and in a few minutes had it +prepared and the two put together and laid in the sun on the +window-seat. + +"What's in that iron box, Elmer?" + +"Nitrous oxide." + +"The same thing that the dentists use?" + +"Yes. Would you like to try a whiff? It's rather jolly, and will not +hurt you in the least." + +Elmer caught up a bit of rubber pipe, secured one end to the iron chest +and inserted the other in a mouthpiece having the proper inhalation and +exhalation valves. + +"Put that in your mouth for a moment." + +Alma, with beautiful confidence, put the tube in her mouth, and in a +moment her pretty head fell back against the back of the chair in deep +sleep. With wonderful speed and skill Elmer rolled a larger camera that +stood in a corner out into the centre of the room, ran in a slide, +adjusted the focus, and before the brief slumber passed had a negative +of the sleeping one. + +"Oh, how odd! What a queer sensation to feel yourself going and going, +off and off, till you don't know where you are!" + +"It is rather queer. I've often taken the gas myself--just for fun. Now, +Alma, if you will let down the curtains, and close the shutters, and +make the room dark, I'll light the lantern and show you the picture." + +Alma shut the blinds, drew down the curtains, and closed all the +shutters save one. + +"Won't it be too dark?" + +"No. It must be quite dark. You can stand here in the middle of the room +and look at that bit of bare wall between the windows. I left that space +clear for a screen." + +Alma eagerly took her place, and said with a laugh: + +"If this is the pursuit of pure science, it is very amusing. I'd like to +study science--in this way." + +"Yes, it is rather interesting----" + +"Oh, Elmer, it's pitch dark." + +"Never mind. Stand perfectly still and watch the wall. There--there's +the spot of light. Now I'll run in the positive." + +A round spot of white light fell on the unpapered wall, and then two +dusky shadows slid over it, vague, obscure, and gigantic. + +"There are your people. Now I'll adjust the focus. There--look." + +A heavy sob startled him. + +"Oh! It's that hateful Alice Green!" + +Elmer opened the door of the lantern, and the light streamed full upon +Alma. She was bathed in tears, and her shoulders, visible through her +light summer dress, shook with sobs. + +"What's the matter?" + +"Nothing! Oh, it's--nothing--let me--go----" + +With an impatient gesture she tried to brush the tears from her eyes, +and then, without a word, she hastily ran out of the room. + +The student of pure science was surprised beyond measure. What had +happened? What new blunder had he committed? With all his deep study of +things material he was ignorant of things emotional and sentimental. +This exhibition of anger and grief in his pretty cousin utterly +disconcerted him. He did not know what to do, nor what to think, and he +stood in the glare of his lantern for a moment or two in deep thought. + +Then he closed the lantern and turning round, examined the shadowy +picture thrown upon the wall. It represented a young man and a young +woman seated upon the wooden rail of the bridge in the open air, and in +most loving embrace. His arm was about her waist, and he was looking in +her face. His straw hat hid his features, but the face of the young +woman was turned toward the camera that had so perfectly mirrored them +both. She seemed to be a young and pretty girl in the more lowly walks +of life, and her lover seemed to be a gentleman. What a pity he hadn't +looked up! Who could he be? And she? Alma's remark plainly showed that +she at least knew the girl, and for some reason was hotly indignant with +her. + +Thinking he had made trouble enough already, Elmer took one more good +look at the picture, and then prepared to destroy it. Something about +the young man's hat struck him as familiar. It was a panama hat, and had +two ribbons wound round it in a fanciful manner that was not exactly +conventional. + +He silently opened a shutter, and the picture faded away. He drew up the +curtains and looked out on the bridge. The young couple had disappeared. +Poor innocents! They little knew how their pictures had been taken in +spite of themselves, and they little knew the tragic and terrible +consequences that were to flow from the stolen photograph so strangely +made. Elmer took the little slide from the lantern, and was on the point +of shivering it to fragments on the hearthstone, when he paused in deep +thought. Was it wise to destroy it? Had he not better preserve it? +Perhaps he could some day solve the mystery that hung about it, and find +out the cause of Alma's grief and anger. Perhaps he might help her; and +there came a softening about his heart that seemed both new and +wonderfully unscientific. + +Shortly after this the dinner bell rang, and he went down to the +dining-room. Alma sent word that she had a severe headache and could not +appear. Mr. Belford was already there, and he looked at Mr. Franklin +with an expression that made the young man uncomfortable in spite of +himself. Mr. Denny was unusually thoughtful and silent, and conversation +between the younger men was not particularly brilliant or entertaining. +At last the dreary meal was finished. Mr. Belford rose first and went +out into the hall. Mr. Franklin followed him, and saw something that +quite took his breath away. + +There lay the hat of the photograph, double ribbons and all. Mr. Belford +quietly took it up and put it on, and it fitted him perfectly. Elmer +stopped abruptly and looked at the man with the utmost interest. The +confidential, the chimney builder paid no attention, and quickly passed +on out of the front door. + +"E. Franklin, you have made a discovery. The pursuit of pure science +never showed anything half so interesting as this. You had better raise +a cloud on the subject. Gad! It's cloudy enough already!" + +This to himself as he slowly went up stairs to his room. Selecting a +pipe, he filled it, and finding a comfortable seat, he fired up and +prepared to examine mentally the events of the day. + +"It was the confidential, making love to some village beauty, supposed +to be 'Green,' by name, if not by nature. Alma loves him. That's bad. +Perhaps she's engaged to him. Has she a ring? Yes--saw it the other day. +The affair is cloudy--and--Gad! Blessed if I don't keep that +lantern-slide! It may be of use some day. Come in." + +This last was in response to a knock at the door. Mr. Belford entered, +panama hat with two ribbons in hand. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Franklin. I thought I might find you here.". + +"Yes, I'm at leisure. What can I do for you? Smoke?" + +"No; I can't to-day. The fact is, I've a bad tooth, and smoking troubles +it." + +"Indeed? Let me see it. I'm a bit of a dentist." + +"Are you? That's fortunate, for it aches sadly, and our nearest dentist +is five miles away." + +"Sit right here by the window, where I can have a good light." + +Mr. Belford, a physical coward, could not bear pain; and though he was +unwilling to be under obligations to one whom he considered a mere boy, +he sat down in the proffered chair, and opened his mouth dutifully. + +"Ah, yes--_dentes sapentia_. It's quite gone. Shall I take it out for +you?" + +"Will it be painful?" + +"No. I'll give you nitrous oxide. Without it it might be very painful, +for the tooth is much broken down." + +Mr. Belford hesitated. Had he better place himself so utterly at the +mercy of this young man? + +"It will pass off in a moment, and leave no ill effects behind. You had +better take it." + +"Well, I will; but make it very mild, for I am afraid of these +new-fangled notions." + +"You need have no fear," said Elmer, bringing up his iron box of nitrous +oxide, and selecting a pair of forceps from the mass of instruments in +one of his trunks. + +"It's very odd. It's the merest chance that I happened to have a pair of +forceps. Are you ready now? Put this tube in your mouth, and breathe +easily and naturally." + +The patient leaned back in the chair, and the amateur stood silently +watching him. + +"It's a fearful risk, but I'm going to try it. I succeeded with Alma, +and I fancy I can with this fool. He was a fool to run right into my +arms in this fashion. No wonder his wisdom tooth was rotten. I'll have +it out in a moment." + +All this to himself. The patient closed his eyes, and fell into a deep +sleep. + +"Take it strong. It will not hurt you, and I must keep you quiet till +the deed is done." + +High science was to be brought to bear upon rascality, and he must move +cautiously and quickly. The instant the patient was unconscious, Elmer +bent over him and turned back his coat, and from the inside pocket he +drew forth a folded paper. He had caught a glimpse of it when he looked +in the man's mouth, and on the spur of the moment he had conceived and +put into practice this bold stroke of applied science. Making the man +comfortable, and giving him a little air with the gas, he opened the +paper and spread it wide open before a pile of books in the full +sunlight. The patient stirred uneasily. With a breathless motion Elmer +plied him with more gas, and he sighed softly and slumbered deeper than +ever. With a spring he reached the camera, rolled it up before the +paper, and set in a new slide. It copied the paper with terrible +certainty, and then, without reading it, Elmer folded the paper up again +and restored it to his patient's pocket. + +The patient revived. He put his hand in his mouth. The tooth was still +there. + +"Why, you didn't touch it?" + +"No. I was delayed a bit. Take the gas again." + +The man submitted, and inhaled more gas. At the instant he slumbered the +forceps were deftly plied and the tooth removed. Bathing the man's face +with water, the young dentist watched him closely till he revived again. + +"Do you feel better?" + +"Better! Why, I'm not hurt! Is it really out?" + +"Yes. There it is in the washbowl." + +"You did very well, young man. Excellently. I'm sure I'm much obliged." + +"You're welcome," replied Mr. Franklin. "It was a trifling affair." + +Repeating his thanks, the visitor put on his hat with its two ribbons +and retired. + +For an hour or more the youthful son of science worked over his new +negatives, and then he quietly closed the shutters and lighted his +stereopticon. The first picture he threw upon the wall greatly pleased +him. With half-parted lips, a placid smile, and closed eyes, the +sleeping Alma lived in shadowy beauty before him. + +"Queer such a charming girl should belong to such a fool!" + +Not choice language for a son of pure-eyed science, but history is +history, and the truth must be told. + +"Now for the paper." + +He took Alma's stolen picture from the lantern, and inserted in its +place a positive copy of the paper he had captured from her lover. +Suddenly there flashed upon the wall a document of the most startling +and extraordinary character. He read it through several times before he +could bring himself to understand the peculiar nature of the important +discovery he had made. Long and earnestly he gazed upon the gigantic +writing on the wall, and then he slowly opened one of the shutters, and +the magic writing faded away in the rosy light of the setting sun. + +A moment after, the tea-bell rang. This over, young Mr. Franklin said +he, must go out for his evening constitutional. He wished to be alone. +The events of the day, the discoveries he had made, and, more than all, +Alma's grief and silence at the supper-table, disturbed him. He wished +more air, more freedom to think over these things and to devise some +plan for future action. + +Alma. What of her? Was he not growing to like her--perhaps love her? And +she was engaged to that--that--he could not think of him with patience. +The chimney, the two in the photo, and the strange paper: what did they +all mean? Why were both father and daughter in such evident distress? He +pondered these things as he walked through the shadowy lanes, and then, +about eight o'clock, he returned, in a measure composed and serene. + +There was a light in the parlor, and he went in and found Alma alone. + +"Oh, Elmer! I'm glad you've come. It's very lonely here. Father has +gone to bed quite ill, and Lawrence asked me to sit up till he +returned. He's gone down to the village on some business. I can't see +why he should. The stores are closed and the last train has gone." + +She made a place for him on the sofa, and he sat down beside her. For +some time they talked indifferently upon various matters--the weather, +the heat of the day, and like trivialities. + +Suddenly she turned upon him, and said, with ill-suppressed excitement: + +"What did you do with it, Elmer?" + +"Do with what?" + +"The picture." + +"Oh, yes--the lantern slide. I wish I had never made it. It's up stairs +in my room." + +"You didn't know it was Alice Green?" + +"No. How should I? I did not know who either of the people was till the +picture was thrown upon the wall." + +"Do you know now--know both of them, I mean?" + +"Yes--I think I do. One was Mr.----" + +"Yes, Elmer, you may as well say it. It was Lawrence." + +Elmer could think of nothing to say, and wisely said nothing. After a +brief pause Alma said slowly, as if talking to herself: + +"It was a cruel thing to do." + +"I did not mean to be cruel." + +"Oh, my dear--cousin, don't think of it in that way. It was Lawrence who +was so cruel." + +"Yes. It was not very gentlemanly; but perhaps he does not care for--for +this person." + +"He does. The picture was only confirmation of what I had heard before. +I've done with him," she added in a sort of suppressed desperation. "I'm +going to break our engagement this very night. I know it will nearly +break my heart, and father will be very angry; but, Elmer, come nearer; +let me tell you about it. I'm afraid of him. He has such an evil eye, +and you remember the chimney--the day you came--I thought he would kill +you, he was so angry." + +Evidently she was in sore trouble. Even her language was marked by doubt +and difficulty. + +"Advise me, Elmer. Tell me what to do. I hardly know which way to turn, +and I'm so lonely. Father is busy every day, and I can't talk to him. +And Lawrence--I dare not trust him." + +Here she began to cry softly, and hid her face in her handkerchief. The +son of science was perplexed. What should he do or say? All this was new +to him. That a young and pretty girl should appeal to him with such +earnestness disconcerted him, and he did not know how to act. A problem +in triangulation or knotty question in physics would have charmed him +and braced him up for any work. This was so new and so peculiar that he +said, "Don't cry, cousin," and repented it at once as a silly speech. + +"I must. It does me good." + +"Then I would." + +Thereupon they both laughed heartily and felt better. He recovered his +wits at once. + +"Do you think you really love him?" + +The man of science is himself again. + +"No, I don't." + +"Then--well, it's hardly my place to say it." + +"Then break the engagement. That's what you mean. I intend to do so; +but, Elmer, I wish you could be here with me." + +"It would be impossible. Oh! I've an idea." + +"Have you? There! I knew you would help me. You are so bright, Elmer, +and so kind----" + +He nipped her enthusiasm in the bud. + +"Do you think you could telegraph to me from your pocket?" + +"I don't know what you mean." + +"You know the letters now perfectly, and if you had your hand on an +armature, you could send off messages quickly?" + +"Yes. You know I learned the alphabet in one day, and it's nearly a +week since you put up that line to my room. Think how we have talked +with it already. And you remember the tea table, when the Lawsons and +the Stebbens were here. Didn't I answer all your questions about Minna +Lawson while I was talking with her by tapping on the table with a +spoon?" + +"Yes. So far so good; but now I'm going to try a most dangerous and +difficult piece of scientific work, and you must help me. My plan is for +you to keep in telegraphic communication with me while the interview +goes on. Then, if he is insulting or troublesome, you can call me." + +"How bright of you, Elmer. If Lawrence had been half so good and kind +and bright--if he knew half as much--I might have loved him longer." + +"Wait a bit, and I'll get the lines." + +"May I go too?" + +"Oh, yes; come." + +The two went softly up the hall stairs, through the long entry to the L, +and into Elmer's room. They set the lamp on a table, and Elmer dragged +forth from the scientific confusion of the place a collection of +telegraphic apparatus of all kinds. + +"There's the battery. That I'll keep here. There is the recording +instrument. That I'll keep here also. Now you want a small armature to +open and close the current. Wait a bit! I'd better make one." + +Alma sat down on a box, and her new Lohengrin set to work with shears +and file to make something that would answer for an armature and still +be small enough to hide in the hand. Cutting off two small pieces of +insulated copper wire, he bound them together side by side at one end. +The loose ends he separated by crowding a bit of rubber between them, +and then with the file and his knife he removed a part of the insulating +covering till the bright copper showed at the tips of each wire. + +"There! You can hide that in the pocket of your dress, or hold it in +your hand even. When you wish to close the circuit, pinch the wires, and +they will touch each other. When you withdraw the pressure the rubber +will push them apart." + +Alma declared she could do it easily, and the armature having been +connected with the wires and the battery, they both prepared to go to +the parlor. + +Down the stairs they crept, slowly unwinding two delicate coils of +insulated wire as they went, and pushing them back against the wall well +out of sight. When they came to the mats Alma lifted them up, and Elmer +laid the wires down, and then the mats covered them from sight. + +"Now, you sit here, in a comfortable chair, and hide the wires in the +folds of your dress. I'll lead them off over the carpet behind you, and +unless the----Lawrence is brighter than I think he is, he'll not find +them." + +These mysterious operations were hardly completed before the door bell +rang and Lawrence came in. He did not seem particularly pleased to find +Mr. Franklin sitting up with Alma, and the meeting was not very cordial. +After a few unimportant remarks Mr. Franklin said that he must retire. + +"I'd like to know, miss, what that puppy said to you. He's been here all +the evening, I dare say." + +"He has, Lawrence; but I will not have my friends spoken of in that +way." + +"Your friends indeed! What do you intend to do about it?" + +Meanwhile her hand, persistently kept in her pocket, nervously moved the +electric armature, and a sudden twinge of pain startled her. Her finger, +caught between the wires, felt the shock of a returning current. +Suddenly the pain flashed again, and she understood it. Elmer was +replying to her. She forced herself to read his words by the pain the +wires caused her, and she spelled out: + +"Keep cool. Don't fear him." + +"Seems to me you're precious silent, miss." + +"One might well keep silence while you use such language as you do, +Lawrence Belford." + +"Who's a better right?" + +"No man has a right not to be a gentleman, and as for your right, I have +decided to withdraw it." + +"What do you mean?" he cried in sudden anger. + +She drew her hand out of her pocket, slowly took off her engagement +ring, and said, + +"That." + +"Oh! We'll have none of that. You may put your ring on again." + +"I shall never wear it again." + +"Yes, you will." + +"I shall not." + +"Look here, Miss Denny. We'll have no nonsense. You are going to marry +me next week. I suppose you know that mortgage is to be foreclosed on +Monday, and you and your father will be beggars. I know how to stop all +this, and I can do it. Marry me, and go to New York with me on +Wednesday, and the mortgage will be withdrawn." + +"We may find the will before that." + +"Oh! You may, you may. You and your father have been searching for that +will these ten years. You haven't found it yet, and you won't." + +Alma under any ordinary circumstances would have quailed before this +man. As it was, those trails of copper wire down her dress kept her +busy. She rapidly sent off through them nearly all that was said, and +her knight of the battery sat up stairs copying it off alone in his +room, and almost swearing with anger and excitement. + +Suddenly the messages stopped. He listened sharply at the door. Not a +sound. The old house was as still as a grave. Several minutes passed, +and nothing came. What had happened? Had he cut the wires? Had Alma +fainted? Suddenly the sounder spoke out sharp and clear in the silent +room: + +"Elmer, come!" + +He seized a revolver from the bureau, and thrusting it into his pocket, +tore off the white strip of paper that had rolled out of the instrument, +and with it in his hand he went quickly down stairs. He opened the door +without knocking, and advanced into the middle of the room. + +The moment he entered, Alma sprang up from her seat, pulling out the two +wires as she did so, and throwing her arm about the young man, she cried +out in an agony of fear and shame: + +"Oh, Elmer, Elmer! Take me away! Take me to my father!" + +He supported her with his right arm, and turned to face her assailant +with the crumbled ribbon of paper still in his hand. + +"What does this mean, sir? Have you been ill treating my cousin?" + +"Go to bed, boy. It's very late for school children to be up." + +"Your language is insulting, sir. I repeat it. What have you said or +done to Miss Denny?" + +"Oh! Come away! come away, Elmer!" + +"None of your business, you puppy." + +"There is no need to ask what you said, sir. I know every word and have +made a copy of it." + +"Ah! Listening, were you?" + +"No, sir. Miss Denny has told me. Do you see those wires? They will +entangle you yet and trip you up." + +"Come away, Elmer. Come away." + +"For the present I will retire, sir; but, mark me, your game is nearly +up." + +"By, by, children. Good night. Remember your promise, Miss Denny. The +carriage will be all ready." + +Without heeding this last remark, Elmer, with his cousin on his arm, +withdrew. As they closed the door the telegraph wires caught in the +carpet and broke. The man saw them, and picking one up, he examined it +closely. + +Suddenly he dropped it and turned ashen pale. With all his bravado, he +quailed before those slender wires upon the carpet. He did not +understand them. He guessed they might be some kind of telegraph, but +beyond this everything was vague and mysterious, and they filled him +with guilty alarm and terror. + + CHARLES BARNARD. + + + + +FROM NORMANDY TO THE PYRENEES. + + +The other day, before the first fire of winter, when the deepening dusk +had compelled me to close my book and wheel my chair closer, I indulged +in a retrospect. The objects of it were not far distant, and yet they +seemed already to glow with the mellow tints of the days that are no +more. In the crackling flame the last remnant of the summer appeared to +shrink up and vanish. But the flicker of its destruction made a sort of +fantastic imagery, and in the midst of the winter fire the summer +sunshine seemed to glow. It lit up a series of visible memories. + + + + +I. + + +One of the first was that of a perfect day on the coast of Normandy--a +warm, still Sunday in the early part of August. From my pillow, on +waking, I could look at a strip of blue sea and a section of white +cliff. I observed that the sea had never been so brilliant, and that the +cliff was shining like the coast of Paros. I rose and came forth with +the sense that it was the finest day of summer, and that one ought to do +something uncommon by way of keeping it. At Etretal it was uncommon to +take a walk; the custom of the country is to lie all day upon the pebbly +strand watching, as we should say in America, your fellow boarders. Your +leisurely stroll, in a scanty sheet, from your bathing cabin into the +water, and your trickling progress from the water back into your cabin, +form, as a general thing, the sum total of your peregrination. For the +rest you remain horizontal, contemplating the horizon. To mark the day +with a white stone, therefore, it was quite sufficient to stretch my +legs. So I climbed the huge grassy cliff which shuts in the little bay +on the right (as you lie on the beach, head upward), and gained the +bleak white chapel of Notre Dame de la Garde, which a lady told me she +was sure was the original of Matthew Arnold's "Little Gray Church on the +Windy Hill." This is very likely; but the little church to-day was not +gray; neither was the hill windy. + +I had occasion, by the time I reached the summit, to wish it had been. +Deep, silent sunshine filled the air, and the long grass of the downs +stood up in the light without a tremor. The downs at Etretal are +magnificent, and the way they stretched off toward Dieppe, with their +shining levels and their faintly-shaded dells, was in itself an +irresistible invitation. On the land side they have been somewhat +narrowed by cultivation; the woods, and farms, and grain fields here and +there creep close enough to the edge of the cliff almost to see the +shifting of the tides at its base. But cultivation in Normandy is itself +picturesque, and the pedestrian rarely need resent its encroachments. +Neither walls nor hedges or fences are anywhere visible; the whole land +lies open to the breezes and to his curious footsteps. This universal +absence of barriers gives an air of vastness to the landscape, so that +really, in a little French province, you have more of the feeling of +being in a big country than on our own huge continent, which bristles so +unconsciously with prohibitory rails and stone-piles. Norman farmhouses, +too, with their mossy roofs and their visible beams making all kinds of +triangles upon the ancient plaster of their walls, are very delightful +things. Hereabouts they have always a dark little wood close beside +them; often a _chenaie_, as the term is--a fantastic little grove of +tempest-tossed oaks. The trees look as if, some night, when the +sea-blasts were howling their loudest and their boughs were tossing +most wildly, the tumult had suddenly been stilled and they had stopped +short, each in the attitude into which the storm was twisting it. The +only thing the storm can do with them now is to blow them straight. The +long, indented coast line had never seemed to me so charming. It +stretched away into the light haze of the horizon, with such lovely +violet spots in its caves and hollows, and such soft white gleams on its +short headlands--such exquisite gradations of distance and such +capricious interruptions of perspective--that one could only say that +the land was really trying to smile as hard as the sea. The smile of the +sea was a positive simper. Such a glittering and twinkling, such a +softness and blueness, such tiny little pin-points of foam, and such +delicate little wrinkles of waves--all this made the ocean look like a +flattered portrait. + +The day I speak of was a Sunday, and there were to be races at Fecamp, +ten miles away. The agreeable thing was, of course, to walk to Fecamp, +over the grassy downs. I walked and walked, over the levels and the +dells, having land and ocean quite to myself. Here and there I met a +shepherd, lying flat on his stomach in the sun, while his sheep, in +extreme dishabille (shearing time being recent), went huddling in front +of me as I approached. Far below, on the blue ocean, like a fly on a +table of lapis, crawled a little steamer, carrying people from Etretal +to the races. I seemed to go much faster, yet the steamer got to Fecamp +before me. But I stopped to gossip with a shepherd on a grassy hillside, +and to admire certain little villages which are niched in small, +transverse, seaward-sloping valleys. The shepherd told me that he had +been farm-servant to the same master for five-and-thirty years--ever +since the age of ten; and that for thirty-five summers he had fed his +flock upon those downs. I don't know whether his sheep were tired of +their diet, but he professed himself very tired of his life. I remarked +that in fine weather it must be charming, and he observed, with +humility, that to thirty-five summers there went several rainy days. + +The walk to Fecamp would be purely delightful if it were not for the +_fonds_. The _fonds_ are the transverse valleys just mentioned--the +channels, for the most part, of small water-courses which discharge +themselves into the sea. The downs subside, precipitately, to the level +of the beach, and then slowly lift their grassy shoulders on the other +side of the gully. As the cliffs are of immense height, these +indentations are profound, and drain off a little of the exhilaration of +the too elastic pedestrian. The first _fond_ trike him as delightfully +picturesque, and he is down the long slope on one side and up the +gigantic hump on the other before he has time to feel hot. But the +second is greeted with that tempered _empressement_ with which you bow +in the street to an acquaintance with whom you have met half an hour +before; the third is a stale repetition; the fourth is decidedly one too +many, and the fifth is sensibly exasperating. The _fonds_, in a word, +are very tiresome. It was, if I remember rightly, in the bottom of the +last and widest of the series that I discovered the little town of +Yport. Every little fishing village on the Norman coast has, within the +last ten years, set up in business as a watering-place; and, though one +might fancy that Nature had condemned Yport to modest obscurity, it is +plain that she has no idea of being out of the fashion. But she is a +miniature imitation of her rivals. She has a meagre little wood behind +her and an evil-smelling beach, on which bathing is possible only at the +highest tide. At the scorching mid-day hour at which I inspected her she +seemed absolutely empty, and the ocean, beyond acres of slippery +seaweed, looked very far away. She has everything that a properly +appointed _station de bains_ should have, but everything is on a +Lilliputian scale. The whole place looked like a huge Nueremburg toy. +There is a diminutive hotel, in which, properly, the head waiter should +be a pigmy and the chambermaid a sprite, and beside it there is a +_Casino_ on the smallest possible scale. Everything about the _Casino_ +is so harmoniously undersized that it seems a matter of course that the +newspapers in the reading-room should be printed in the very finest +type. Of course there is a reading-room, and a dancing-room, and a +_cafe_, and a billiard-room, with a bagatelle board instead of a table, +and a little terrace on which you may walk up and down with very short +steps. I hope the prices are as tiny as everything else, and I suspect, +indeed, that Yport honestly claims, not that she is attractive, but that +she is cheap. + +I toiled up the perpendicular cliff again, and took my way over the +grass, for another hour, to Fecamp, where I found the peculiarities of +Yport directly reversed. The place is a huge, straggling village, seated +along a wide, shallow bay, and adorned, of course, with the classic +_Casino_ and the row of hotels. But all this is on a very brave scale, +though it is not manifest that the bravery of Fecamp has won a victory; +and, indeed, the local attractions did not strike me as irresistible. A +pebbly beach of immense length, fenced off from the town by a grassy +embankment; a _Casino_ of a bold and unsociable aspect; a principal inn, +with an interminable brown facade, suggestive somehow of an asylum or an +almshouse--such are the most striking features of this particular +watering-place. There are magnificent cliffs on each side of the bay, +but, as the French say, without impropriety, it is the devil to get to +them. There was no one in the hotel, in the Casino, or on the beach; the +whole town being in the act of climbing the further cliff, to reach the +downs on which the races were to be held. The green hillside was black +with trudging spectators and the long sky line was fretted with them. +When I say there was no one at the inn, I forget the gentleman at the +door who informed me positively that he would give me no breakfast; he +seemed to have staid at home from the races expressly to give himself +this pleasure. But I went further and fared better, and procured a meal +of homely succulence, in an unfashionable tavern, in a back street, +where the wine was sound, the cutlets tender, and the serving-maid rosy. +Then I walked along--for a mile, it seemed--through a dreary, gray +_grand rue_, where the sunshine was hot, the odors portentous, and the +doorsteps garnished with aged fishwives, retired from business, whose +plaited linen coifs looked picturesquely white, and their faces +picturesquely brown. I inspected the harbor and its goodly basin--with +nothing in it--and certain pink and blue houses, which surround it, and +then, joining the last stragglers, I clambered up the side of the cliff +to the downs. + +The races had already begun, and the ring of spectators was dense. I +picked out some of the smallest people, looked over their heads, and saw +several young farmers, in parti-colored jackets, and very red in the +face, bouncing up and down on handsome cart-horses. Satiated at last +with this diversion, I turned away and wandered down the hill again; and +after strolling through the streets of Fecamp, and gathering not a +little of the wayside entertainment that a seaport and fishing town +always yields, I repaired to the Abbey church, a monument of some +importance, and almost as great an object of pride in the town as the +Casino. The Abbey of Fecamp was once a very rich and powerful +establishment, but nothing remains of it now save its church and its +_trappistine_. The church, which is for the most part early Gothic, is +very stately and picturesque, and the _trappistine_, which is a +distilled liquor of the _Chartreuse_ family, is much prized by people +who take a little glass after their coffee. By the time I had done with +the Abbey, the townsfolk had slid _en masse_ down the cliff again, the +yellow afternoon had come, and the holiday takers, before the +wine-shops, made long and lively shadows. I hired a sort of two-wheeled +gig, without a board, and drove back to Etretal in the rosy stage of +evening. The gig dandled me up and down in a fashion of which I had been +unconscious since I left off baby-clothes; but the drive, through the +charming Norman country, over roads which lay among the peaceful meadows +like paths amid a park, was altogether delightful. The sunset gave a +deeper mellowness to the standing crops, and in the grassiest corner of +the wayside villages the young men and maidens were dancing like the +figures in vignette illustrations of classic poets. + + + + +II. + + +You may say there is nothing in this very commonplace adventure to +sentimentalize about, and that when one plucks sentimentally a brand +from the burning one should pick out a more valuable one. I certainly +call it a picked day, at any rate, when I went to breakfast at St. +Jouin, at the beautiful Ernestine's. Don't be alarmed; if I was just now +too tame, I am not turning wild. The beautiful Ernestine is not my +especial beauty, but every one's, and to contemplate her charms you have +only to order breakfast. They shine forth the more brilliantly in +proportion as your order is liberal, and Ernestine is beautiful +according as your bill is large. In this case she comes and smiles, +really very handsomely, around your table, and you feel some hesitation +in accusing so well-favored a person of extortion. She keeps an inn at +the end of a lane which diverges from the high road between Etretal and +Havre, and it is an indispensable feature of your "station" at the +former place that you choose some fine morning and seek her hospitality. +She has been a celebrity these twenty years, and is no longer a simple +maiden in her flower; but twenty years, if they have diminished her +early bloom, have richly augmented her _musee_. This is a collection of +all the verses and sketches, the autographs, photographs, monographs, +and trinkets presented to the amiable hostess by admiring tourists. It +covers the walls of her sitting-room and fills half a dozen big albums +which you look at while breakfast is being prepared, just as if you were +awaiting dinner in genteel society. Most Frenchmen of the day whom one +has heard of appear to have called at St. Jouin, and to have left their +_homages_. Each of them has turned a compliment with pen or pencil, and +you may see in a glass case on the parlor wall what Alexandre Dumas, +Fils, thought of the landlady's nose, and how several painters measured +her ankles. + +Of course you must make this excursion in good company, and I affirm +that I was in the very best. The company prefers, equally of course, to +have its breakfast in the orchard in front of the house; which, if the +repast is good, will make it seem better still, and if it is poor, will +carry off its poorness. Clever innkeepers should always make their +victims (in tolerable weather) eat in the garden. I forget whether +Ernestine's breakfast was intrinsically good or bad, but I distinctly +remember enjoying it, and making everything welcome. Everything, that +is, save the party at the other table--the Paris actresses and the +American gentlemen. The combination of these two classes of persons, +individually so delightful, results in certain phenomena which seem less +in harmony with appleboughs and summer breezes than with the gas lamps +and thick perfumes of a _cabinet particulier_, and yet it was +characteristic of this odd mixture of things that Mlle. Ernestine, +coming to chat with her customers, should bear a beautiful infant on her +arm, and smile with artless pride on being assured of its filial +resemblance to herself. She looked decidedly handsome as she caressed +this startling attribute of quiet spinsterhood. + +St. Jouin is close to the sea and to the finest cliffs in the world. One +of my companions, who had laden the carriage with his painting traps, +went off into a sunny meadow to take the portrait of a windmill, and I, +choosing the better portion, wandered through a little green valley with +the other. Ten minutes brought us to the edge of the cliffs, which at +this point of the coast are simply sublime. I had been thinking the +white sea-walls of Etretal the finest thing conceivable in this way, but +the huge red porphoritic-looking masses of St. Jouin have an even +grander character. I have rarely seen anything more picturesque. They +are strange, fantastic, out of keeping with the country, and for some +rather arbitrary reason suggested to me a Spanish or even African +landscape. Certain sun-scorched precipices in Spanish Sierras must have +very much the same warmth of tone and desolation of attitude. A very +picturesque feature of the cliffs of St. Jouin is that they are double +in height, as one may say. Falling to an immense depth, they encounter a +certain outward ledge, or terrace, where they pause and play a dozen +fantastic tricks, such as piling up rocks into the likeness of needles +and watch-towers; then they plunge again, and in another splendid sweep +descend to the beach. There was something very impressive in the way +their evil brows, looking as if they were all stained with blood and +rust, were bent upon the blue expanse of the sleeping sea. + + + + +III. + + +In a month of beautiful weather at Etretal, every day was not an +excursion, but every day seemed indeed a picked day. For that matter, as +I lay on the beach watching the procession of the easy-going hours, I +took a good many mental excursions. The one, perhaps, on which I +oftenest started was a comparison between French manners, French habits, +French types, and those of my native land. These comparisons are not +invidious; I don't conclude against one party and in favor of the other; +as the French say, _je constate_ simply. The French people about me were +"spending the summer" just as I had so often seen my fellow countrymen +spend it, and it seemed to me, as it had seemed to me at home, that this +operation places men and women under a sort of monstrous magnifying +glass. The human figure has a higher relief in the country than in town, +and I know of no place where psychological studies prosper so as at the +seaside. I shall not pretend to relate my observations in the order in +which they occurred to me (or indeed to relate them in full at all); but +I may say that one of the foremost was to this effect--that the summer +question, for every one, had been more easily settled than it usually is +at home. The solution of the problem of where to go had not been a +thin-petalled rose, plucked from among particularly sharp-pointed +thorns. People presented themselves with a calmness and freshness very +different from the haggard legacy of that fevered investigation which +precedes the annual exodus of the American citizen and his family. This +impression, with me, rests perhaps on the fact that most Frenchwomen +turned of thirty--the average wives and mothers--are so comfortably fat. +I have never seen such massive feminine charms as among the mature +_baigneuses_ of Etratal. The lean and desiccated person into whom a +dozen years of matrimony so often converts the blooming American girl +has no apparent correlative in the French race. A majestic plumpness +flourished all around me--the plumpness of triple chins and deeply +dimpled hands. I mused upon it, and I concluded that it was the result +of the best breakfasts and dinners in the world. It was the corpulence +of ladies who are thoroughly well fed, and who never walk a step that +they can spare. The assiduity with which the women of America measure +the length of our democratic pavements is doubtless a factor in their +frequent absence of redundancy of outline. As a "regular boarder" at the +Hotel Blanquet--pronounced by Anglo-Saxon visitors Blanket--I found +myself initiated into the mysteries of the French dietary system. I +assent to the common tradition that the French are a temperate people, +so long as it is understood in this sense--that they eat no more than +they want to. But they want to eat so much! Their capacity strikes me as +enormous, and we ourselves, if we are less regulated, are certainly much +more slender consumers. + +The American breakfast has, I believe, long been a subject of irony to +the foreign observer; but the American breakfast is an ascetic meal +compared with the French _dejeuner a la fourchette_. The latter, indeed, +is simply a dinner without soup; it differs neither generically nor +specifically from the evening repast. If it excludes soup, it includes +eggs, prepared in a hundred forms; and if it proscribes champagne, it +admits beer in foaming pitchers, so that the balance is fairly +preserved. I think it is rarely that an American will not feel a certain +sympathetic heaviness in the reflection that a French family that sits +down at half past eleven to fish and entrees and roasts, to asparagus +and beans, to salad and dessert, and cheese and coffee, proposes to do +exactly the same thing at dinner time. But we may be sure at any rate +that the dinner will be as good as the breakfast, and that the breakfast +has nothing to fear from prospective comparison with the dinner; and we +may further reflect that in a country where eating is a peculiarly +unalloyed pleasure it is natural that this pleasure should be prolonged +and reiterated. Nothing is more noticeable among the French than their +superior intelligence in dietary matters; every one seems naturally a +judge, a dilettante. They have analyzed tastes and savors to a finer +point than we; they are aware of differences and relations of which we +take no heed. Observe a Frenchman of any age and of any station (I have +been quite as much struck with it in the very young men as in the old) +as he orders his breakfast or his dinner at a Parisian restaurant, and +you will perceive that the operation is much more solemn than it is apt +to be in New York or in London. (In London, indeed, it is intellectually +positively brutal.) Monsieur has, in a word, a certain ideal for that +particular repast, and it will make a difference in his happiness +whether the kidneys, for instance, of a certain style, are chopped to +the ultimate or only to the penultimate smallness. His directions and +admonitions to the waiter are therefore minute and exquisite, and +eloquently accentuated by the pressure of thumb and forefinger; and it +must be added that the imagination of the waiter is usually quite worthy +of the refined communion thus opened to it. + +This subtler sense of quality is observable even among those classes in +which in other countries it is generally forestalled by a depressing +consciousness on the subject of quantity. Watch your Parisian porter and +his wife at their mid-day meal, as you pass up and down stairs. They are +not satisfying nature upon green tea and potatoes; they are seated +before a meal which has been reasoned out, which, on its modest scale, +is served in courses, and has a beginning, a middle, and an end. I will +not say that the French sense of comfort is confined to the philosophy +of nutrition, but it is certainly higher at this point (and perhaps one +other) than it is elsewhere. French people must have a good dinner and a +good bed; but they are willing that the bed should be stationed and the +dinner be eaten in the most unpleasant neighborhoods. Your porter and +his wife dine grandly and sleep soft in their lodge, but their lodge is +in all probability a fetid black hole, five feet square, in which, in +England or in America, people of their talents would never consent to +live. French people consent to live in the dark, to huddle together, to +forego privacy, and to let bad smells grow great among them. They have +an accursed passion for coquettish furniture: for cold, brittle chairs, +for tables with scolloped edges, for ottomans without backs, for +fireplaces muffled in plush and fringe and about as cheerful as a +festooned hearse. A French bedroom is a bitter mockery--a ghastly +attempt to serve two masters which succeeds in being agreeable to +neither. It is a thing of traps and delusions, constructed on the +assumption that it is inelegant to be known to wash or to sleep, and yet +pervaded with suggestions of uncleanness compared with which a +well-wrung bathing sponge, well _en evidence_, is a delightful symbol of +purity. This comes of course from that supreme French quality, the +source of half the charm of the French mind as well of all its dryness, +the genius for economy. It is wasting a room to let it be a bedroom +alone; so it must be tricked out as an ingeniously contrived +sitting-room, and ends by being (in many cases) insufferable both by +night and by day. But allowing all weight to these latter reflections, +it is still very possible that the French have the better part. If you +are well fed, you can perhaps afford to be ill lodged; whereas, I doubt +whether enjoyment of the most commodious apartments is compatible with +inanition and dyspepsia. + + + + +IV. + + +If I had not cut short my mild retrospect by these possibly milder +generalizations, I should have touched lightly upon some of the social +phenomena of which the little beach at Etretal was the scene. I shall +have narrated that the French, at the seaside, are not "sociable" as +Americans affect to be in a similar situation, and I should subjoin that +at Etretal it was very well on the whole that they were not. The +immeasurably greater simplicity of composition of American society makes +sociability with us a comparatively untaxed virtue; but anything like +an equal exercise of it in France would be attended with alarming perils +and inconveniences. Sociability (in the American sense of the word) in +any aristocratic country would indeed be very much like an attempt to +establish visiting relations between birds and fishes. At Etretal no +making of acquaintance was observable; people went about in compact, +cohesive groups, of natural formation, governed doubtless, internally, +by humane regulation, but presenting to the world an impenetrable +defensive front. These groups usually formed a solid phalanx about two +or three young girls, compressed into the centre, the preservation of +whose innocence was their chief solicitude. Here, doubtless, the groups +were acting wisely, for with half a dozen _cocottes_, in scarlet +petticoats, scattered over the sunny, harmless looking beach, what were +mammas and duennas to do? In order that there should be a greater number +of approachable-irreproachable young girls in France there must first be +a smaller number of _cocottes_. It is not impossible, indeed, that if +the approachable-irreproachable young ladies were more numerous, the +_cocottes_ would be less numerous. If by some ingenious sumptuary +enactment the latter class could be sequestrated or relegated to the +background for a certain period--say ten years--the latter might +increase and multiply, and quite, in vulgar parlance, get the start of +it. + +And yet after all this is a rather superficial reflection, for the +excellent reason that the very narrow peep at life allowed to young +French girls is not regarded, either by the young girls themselves or by +those who have their felicity most at heart, as a grave privation. The +case is not nearly so hard as it would be with us, for there is this +immense difference between the lot of the _jeune fille_ and her American +sister, that the former may as a general thing be said to be certain to +marry. "Ay, to marry ill," the Anglo-Saxon objector may reply. But the +objection is precipitate; for if French marriages are almost always +arranged, it must be added that they are in the majority of cases +arranged well. Therefore, if a _jeune fille_ is for three or four years +tied with a very short rope and compelled to browse exclusively upon the +meagre herbage which sprouts in the maternal shadow, she has at least +the comfort of reflecting that according to the native phrase, _on +s'occupe de la marier_--that measures are being carefully taken to +promote her to a condition of unbounded liberty. Whatever, to her +imagination, marriage may fail to mean, it at least means freedom and +consideration. It does not mean, as it so often means in America, being +socially shelved--and it is not too much to say, in certain circles, +degraded; it means being socially launched and consecrated. It means +becoming that exalted personage, a _mere de famille_. To be a _mere de +famille_ is to occupy not simply (as is rather the case with us) a +sentimental, but a really official position. The consideration, the +authority, the domestic pomp and circumstance allotted to a French mamma +are in striking contrast with the amiable tolerance which in our own +social order is so often the most liberal measure that the female parent +may venture to expect at her children's hands, and which, on the part of +the young lady of eighteen who represents the family in society, is not +infrequently tempered by a conscientious severity. All this is worth +waiting for, especially if you have not to wait very long. Mademoiselle +is married certainly, and married early, and she is sufficiently well +informed to know, and to be sustained by the knowledge, that the +sentimental expansion which may not take place at present will have an +open field after her marriage. That it should precede her marriage seems +to her as unnatural as that she should put on her shoes before her +stockings. And besides all this, to browse in the maternal shadow is not +considered in the least a hardship. A young French girl who is _bien +elevee_--an expression which means so much--will be sure to consider her +mother's company the most delightful in the world, and to think that the +herbage which sprouts about this lady's petticoats is peculiarly tender +and succulent. It may be fanciful, but it often seems to me that the +tone with which such a young girl says _Ma mere_ has a peculiar +intensity of meaning. I am at least not wrong in affirming that in the +accent with which the mamma--especially if she be of the well-rounded +order alluded to above--speaks of _Ma fille_ there is a kind of +sacerdotal dignity. + + + + +V. + + +After this came two or three pictures of quite another +complexion--pictures of which a long green valley, almost in the centre +of France, makes the general setting. The valley itself, indeed, forms +one delightful picture, although the country which surrounds it is by no +means a show region. It is the old region of the Gatinais, which has +plenty of history, but no great beauty. It is very still, deliciously +rural, and immitigably French. Normandy is Norman, Gascony is Gascon, +but this is France itself--the typical, average, "pleasant" France of +history, literature, and art--of art, of landscape art, perhaps, +especially. Wherever I look in the country I seem to see one of the +familiar pictures on a dealer's wall--a Lambinet, a Troyon, a Daubigny, +a Diaz. The Lambinets perhaps are in the majority; the mood of the +landscape usually expresses itself in silvery lights and vivid greens. +The history of this part of France is the history of the monarchy, and +its language is, I won't say absolutely the classic tongue, but a nearer +approach to it than any local _patois_. The peasants deliver themselves +with rather a drawl, but what they speak is good clean French that any +cockney can understand, which is more than can be said sometimes for +the violent jargon that emanates from the fishing folk of Etretal. + +Each side of the long valley is a long low ridge, which offers it a +high, bosky horizon, and through the middle of it there flows a charming +stream, wandering, winding, and doubling, smothered here and there in +rocks, and spreading into lily-coated reaches, beneath the clear shadow +of tall, straight, light-leaved trees. On each side of the stream the +meadows stretch away flat, clean, and magnificent, lozenged across with +rows of sober foliage under which a cow-maiden sits on the grass hooting +now and then, nasally, to the large-uddered browsers in front of her. +There are no hedges, nor palings, nor walls; it is all a single estate. +Here and there in the meadows stands a cluster of red-roofed +hovels--each a diminutive village. At other points, at about half an +hour's walk apart, are three charming old houses. The chateaux are +extremely different, but, both picturesquely and conveniently, each has +its points. They are very intimate with each other, so that these points +may be amicably discussed. The points in one case, however, are +remarkably strong. The chateau stands directly in the little river I +have mentioned, on an island just great enough to hold it, and the +garden flowers grow upon the further bank. This, of course, is a most +delightful affair. But I found something very agreeable in the aspect of +one of the others, when I made it the goal of certain of those walks +before breakfast which of cool mornings in the late summer do not fall +into the category of ascetic pleasures. (In France, indeed, if one did +not do a great many things before breakfast, the work of life would be +but meagerly performed.) + +The dwelling in question stands on the top of the long ridge which +encloses the comfortable valley to the south, being by its position +quite in the midst of its appurtenant acres. It is not particularly +"kept up," but its quiet rustiness and untrimmedness only help it to be +picturesque. A grassy plateau approaches it from the edge of the hill, +bordered on one side by a short avenue of horse-chestnuts, and on the +other by a dusky wood. Beyond the chestnuts are the steep-roofed, +yellow-walled farm buildings, and under cover of the wood a stretch of +beaten turf, where, on Sundays and holidays, the farm-servants play at +bowls. Directly before the chateau is a little square garden enclosed by +a low stone parapet, interrupted by a high gateway of mossy pillars and +iron arabesques, the whole of it overclambered by flowering vines. The +house, with its yellow walls and russet roof, is ample and substantial; +it is a very proper _gentilhommiere_. In a corner of the garden, at the +angle of the parapet, rises that classic emblem of rural gentility, the +_pigeonnier_, the old stone dovecote. It is a great round tower, as +broad of base as a lighthouse, with its roof shaped like an +extinguisher, and a big hole in its upper portion, in and out of which a +dove is always fluttering. + +You see all this from the windows of the drawing-room. Be sure that the +drawing-room is pannelled in white and gray, with old rococo moulding +over the doorways and mantlepiece. The open garden gateway, with its +tangled vines, makes a frame for the picture that lies beyond the little +grassy esplanade where the thistles have been suffered to grow around a +disused stone well, placed at quaint remoteness from the house (if, +indeed, it is not a relic of an earlier habitation), a picture of a wide +green country rising beyond the unseen valley, and stretching away to a +far horizon in deep blue lines of wood. Behind, through other windows, +you look out on the gardens proper. There are places that take one's +fancy by some accident of expression, by some mystery of accident. This +one is high and breezy, both sunny and shady, plain yet picturesque, +extremely cheerful, and a little melancholy. It has what in the arts is +called "style," and so it took mine. + +Going to call on the peasants was as charming an affair as a chapter in +one of George Sand's rural tales. I went one Sunday morning with my +hostess, who knew them well and engaged their most garrulous confidence. +I don't mean that they told her all their secrets, but they told her a +good many; if the French peasant is a simpleton, he is a very shrewd +simpleton. At any rate, of a Sunday morning in August, when he is +stopping at home from work, and he has put on his best jacket and +trowsers, and is loafing at the door of his neighbor's cabin, he is a +very charming person. The peasantry in the region I speak of had +admirably good manners. The cure gave me a low account of their morals; +by which he meant, on the whole, I suspect, that they were moderate +church-goers. But they have the instinct of civility and a talent for +conversation; they know how to play the host and the entertainer. By +"he," just now, I meant _she_ quite as much; it is rare that, in +speaking superlatively of the French, in any connection, one does not +think of the women even more than of the men. They constantly strike the +foreigner as a stronger expression of the qualities of the race. On the +occasion I speak of the first room in the very humble cabins I +successively visited--in some cases, evidently, it was the only +room--had been set into irreproachable order for the day. It had usually +a sort of brown-toned picturesqueness, begotten of the high +chimney-place, with its swinging pots, the important bed, in its dusky +niche, with its flowered curtains, the big-bellied earthenware on the +cupboard, the long-legged clock in the corner, the thick, quiet light of +the small, deeply-set window; the mixture, on all things, of smoke-stain +and the polish of horny hands. Into the midst of this "la Rabillon" or +"la Mere Leger" brings forward her chairs and begs us to be seated, and +seating herself, with crossed hands, smiles handsomely and answers +abundantly all questions about her cow, her husband, her bees, her eggs, +and her last-born. The men linger half outside and half in, with their +shoulders against dressers and door-posts; every one smiles, with that +simple, clear-eyed smile of the gratified peasant; they talk much more +like George Sand's Berrichons than might be supposed. And if they +receive us without gross awkwardness, they speed us on our way with +proportionate urbanity. I go to six or eight little hovels, all of them +dirty outside and clean within; I am entertained everywhere with the +_bonhomie_, the quaintness, the good faces and good manners of their +occupants, and I finish my tour with an esteem for my new acquaintance +which is not diminished by learning that several of them have thirty or +forty thousand francs securely laid by. + +And yet, as I say, M. le Cure thinks they are in a bad way, and he knows +something about them. M. le Cure, too, is not a dealer in scandal; there +is something delightfully quaint in the way in which he deprecates an +un-Christian construction of his words. There is more than one cure in +the valley whose charms I celebrate; but the worthy priest of whom I +speak is the pearl of the local priesthood. He has been accused, I +believe, of pretentions to what is called _illuminisme_; but even in his +most illuminated moments it can never occur to him that he has been +chronicled in an American magazine, and therefore it is not indiscreet +to say that he is the cure, not of Gy, but of the village nearest to Gy. +I write this sentence half for the pleasure of putting down that +briefest of village names and seeing how it looks in print. But it may +be elongated at will, and yet be only improved. If you wish to be very +specific, you may call it Gy-les-Nonnains--Gy of the Little Nuns. I went +with my hostess, another morning, to call upon M. le Cure, who himself +opened his garden door to us (there was a crooked little black cross +perched upon it), and, lifting his rusty _calotte_, stood there a moment +in the sunshine, smiling a greeting more benignant than words. + +A rural _presbytere_ is not a very sumptuous dwelling, and M. le Cure's +little drawing room reminded me of a Yankee parlor (_minus_ the +subscription books from Hartford, on the centre-table) in some +out-of-the-way corner of New England. But he took us into his very +diminutive garden, and showed us an ornament that would not have +flourished in the shade of a Yankee parlor--a rude stone image of the +Virgin, which he had become possessed of I know not how, and for which +he was building a sort of niche in the wall. The work was going on +slowly, for he must take the labor as he could get it; but he appealed +to his visitors, with a smile of indulgent irony, for an assurance that +his little structure would not make too bad a figure. One of them told +him that she would send him some white flowers to set out round his +statue; whereupon he clasped his hands together over his snuff-box and +expressed cheerful views of the world we live in. A couple of days +afterward he came to breakfast, and, of course, he arrived early, in his +new cassock and band. I found him in the billiard-room, walking up and +down alone, and reading his breviary. The combination of the locality, +the personage, and the occupation made me smile; and I smiled again +when, after breakfast, I found him walking up and down the garden, +puffing a cigarette. Of course he had an excellent appetite; but there +is something rather cruel in those alternations of diet to which the +French parish priest is subjected. At home he lives like a peasant--a +fact which, in itself, is not particularly cruel, inasmuch as he is +usually a peasant born. But his fellow peasants don't breakfast at the +chateau and gaze adown the savory vistas opened by cutlets a la +Soubise. They have not the acute pain of being turned back into the +stale atmosphere of bread and beans. Of course it is by no means every +day or every week even that M. le Cure breakfasts at the chateau; but +there must nevertheless be a certain uncomfortable crookedness in his +position. He lives like a laborer, and yet he is treated like a +gentleman. The latter character must seem to him sometimes a rather +heavy irony on the other. But to the ideal cure, of course, all +characters are equal; he thinks neither too ill of his bad breakfasts, +nor too well of his good ones. I won't say that the excellent man I +speak of is the ideal cure, but I suspect he is an approach to it; he +has a grain of epicureanism to an ounce of stoicism. In the garden path, +beside the moat, while he puffed his cigarette, he told me how he had +held up his head to the Prussians; for, hard as it seemed to believe it, +that pastoral valley had been occupied by ravaging Teutons. According to +this recital, he had spoken his mind civilly, but most distinctly, to +the group of officers who had made themselves at home in his +dwelling--had informed them that it grieved him profoundly that he was +obliged to meet them standing there in his cassock, and not out in the +fields with a musket in his hands and a dozen congenial spirits at his +side. The scene must have been picturesque. The first of the officers +got up from table and asked for the privilege of shaking his hand. "M. +le Cure," he said, "j'estime hautement votre caractere." + +Six miles away--or nearer, by a charming shaded walk along a canal--was +an ancient town with a legend--a legend which, as a child, I read in my +lesson-book at school, marvelling at the wood-cut above it, in which a +ferocious dog was tearing a strange man to pieces, while the king and +his courtiers sat by as if they were at the circus. I allude to it +chiefly in order to mention the name of one of its promenades, which is +the stateliest, beyond all comparison, in the world; the name, I mean, +not the street. The latter is called Les Belles Manieres. Could +anything be finer than that? With what a sweep gentlemen must once have +taken off their hats there; how ladies must once have curtsied, +regardless of gutters, and how people must have turned up their toes as +they walked! + + + + +VI. + + +My next impressions were gathered on the margin of a southern sea--if +the Bay of Biscay indeed deserves so soft-sounding a name. We generally +have a mental image beforehand of a place we think of going to, and I +supposed I had a tolerably vivid prevision of Biarritz. I don't know +why, but I had a singular sense of having been there; the name always +seemed to me expressive. I saw the way it lay along its gleaming beach; +I had taken in imagination the long walks toward Spain over the low +cliffs, with the blue sea always to my right, and the blue Pyrenees +always before me. My only fear was that my mental picture was not +brilliant enough; but this could easily be touched up on the spot. In +truth, however, I was exclusively occupied in toning it down. Biarritz +seemed to be decidedly below its reputation; I am at a loss to see how +its reputation was made. There is a partial explanation that is obvious +enough. There is a low, square, bare brick mansion seated on the sands, +under shelter of a cliff; it is one of the first objects to attract the +attention of an arriving stranger. It is not picturesque, it is not +romantic, and even in the days of its prosperity it never can have been +impressive. It is called the Villa Eugenie, and it explains in a great +measure, as I say, the Biarritz which the arriving stranger, with some +dismay, perceives about him. It has the aspect of one of the "cottages" +of Newport during the winter season, and is surrounded by an even +scantier umbrage than usually flourishes in the vicinity of those +establishments. It was what the newspapers call the "favorite resort" +of the ex-Empress of the French, who might have been seen at her +imperial avocations with a good glass at any time from the Casino. The +Casino, I hasten to add, has quite the air of an establishment +frequented by gentlemen who look on ladies' windows with telescopes. +There are Casinos and Casinos, and that of Biarritz is, in the summary +French phrase, "impossible." Except for its view, it is moreover very +unattractive. Perched on the top of a cliff which has just space enough +to hold its immense brick foundations, it has no garden, no promenade, +no shade, no place of out-of-door reunion--the most indispensable +feature of a Casino. It turns its back to the Pyrenees and to Spain, and +looks out prettily enough over a blue ocean to an arm of the low French +coast. + +Biarritz, for the rest, scrambles over two or three steep hills, +directly above the sea, in a promiscuous, many-colored, noisy fashion. +It is a watering-place, pure and simple; every house has an expensive +little shop in the basement, and a still more expensive set of rooms to +let above stairs. The houses are blue, and pink, and green; they stick +to the hillsides as they can, and being near Spain, you try to fancy +they look Spanish. You succeed perhaps, even a little, and are rewarded +for your zeal by finding, when you cross the border a few days +afterward, that the houses at San Sebastian look strikingly French. +Biarritz is bright, crowded, irregular, filled with many sounds, and not +without a certain second-rate picturesqueness; but it struck me as +common and cocknified, and my vision travelled back to modest little +Etretal, by its northern sea, as to a more truly delectable +resting-place. The southwestern coast of France has little of the +exquisite charm of the Mediterranean shore. It has of course a southern +expression which in itself is always delightful. You see a brilliant, +yellow sun, with a pink-faced, red-tiled house staring up at it. You +can see here and there a trellis and an orange tree, a peasant woman in +gold necklace, driving a donkey, a lame beggar adorned with ear-rings, a +glimpse of blue sea between white garden walls. But the superabundant +detail of the French Riviera is wanting; the softness, luxuriousness, +enchantment. + +The most picturesque thing at Biarritz is the Basque population, which +overflows from the adjacent Spanish provinces and swarms in the crooked +streets. It lounges all day in the public places, sprawls upon the +curbstones, clings to the face of the cliffs, and vociferates +continually in a shrill, strange tongue, which has no discoverable +affinity with any other. The Basques look like the hardier and thriftier +Neapolitan lazzaroni; if the superficial resemblance is striking, the +difference is very much in their favor. Although those specimens which I +observed at Biarritz appeared to enjoy an excess of leisure, they had +nothing of a shiftless or beggarly air, and seemed as little disposed to +ask favors as to confer them. The roads leading into Spain were dotted +with them, and here they were coming and going as if on important +business--the business of the abominable Don Carlos himself. They struck +me as a very handsome race. The men are invariably clean shaved; smooth +chins seem a positively religious observance. They wear little round, +maroon-colored caps, like those of sailor-boys, dark stuff shirts, and +curious white shoes, made of strips of rope laid together--an article of +toilet which makes them look like honorary members of base-ball clubs. +They sling their jackets, cavalier fashion, over one shoulder, hold +their heads very high, swing their arms very bravely, step out very +lightly, and when you meet them in the country at eventide, charging +down a hillside in companies of half a dozen, make altogether a most +impressive appearance. With their smooth chins and childish caps, they +may be taken, in the distance, for a lot of very naughty little boys. +They have always a cigarette in their teeth. + +The best thing at Biarritz is your opportunity for driving over into +Spain. Coming speedily to a consciousness of this fact, I found a charm +in sitting in a landau and rolling away to San Sebastian, behind a +driver in a high glazed hat with long streamers, a jacket of scarlet and +silver, and a pair of yellow breeches and of jack-boots. If it has been +the desire of one's heart and the dream of one's life to visit the land +of Cervantes, even grazing it so lightly as by a day's excursion from +Biarritz is a matter to set one romancing. Everything helping--the +admirable scenery, the charming day, my operatic coachman, and +smooth-rolling carriage--I am afraid I romanced more than it is decent +to tell of. You face toward the beautifully outlined mass of the +Pyrenees, as if you were going to plunge straight into them, but in +reality you travel beneath them and beside them; you pass between their +expiring spurs and the sea. It is on proceeding beyond San Sebastian +that you seriously attack them. But they are already extremely +picturesque--none the less so that in this region they abound in +suggestion of the recent Carlist war. Their far-away peaks and ridges +are crowned with lonely Spanish watch-towers and their lower slopes are +dotted with demolished dwellings. It was hereabouts that the fighting +was most constant. But the healing powers of nature are as remarkable as +the destructive powers of man, and the rich September landscape appeared +already to have forgotten the injuries of yesterday. Everything seemed +to me a savory foretaste of Spain. I discovered an unconscionable amount +of local color. I discovered it at St. Jean de Luz, the last French +town, in a great brown church, filled with galleries and boxes, like a +playhouse--the altar and chair, indeed, looked very much like a +proscenium; at Bohebia, on the Bidassoa, the small yellow stream which +divides France from Spain, and which at this point offers to view the +celebrated Isle of Pheasants, a little bushy strip of earth adorned with +a decayed commemorative monument, on which, in the seventeenth century, +the affairs of Louis XIV. and his brother monarch were discussed in +ornamental conference; at Fuentarabia (glorious name), a mouldering +relic of Spanish stateliness; at Hondaye, at Irun, at Renteria, and +finally at San Sebastian. At all of these wayside towns the houses show +marks of Alphonsist bullets (the region was strongly Carlist); but to be +riddled and battered seems to carry out the meaning of the pompous old +escutcheons carven above the doorways, some of them covering almost half +the house. It seemed to me, in fact, that the narrower and shabbier was +the poor little dusky dwelling, the grander and more elaborate was this +noble advertisement. But it stood for knightly prowess, and pitiless +Time had taken up the challenge. I found it fine work to rumble through +the narrow single street of Irun and Renteria, between the +strange-colored houses, the striped awnings, the universal balconies, +and the heraldic doorways. + +San Sebastian is a lively watering-place, and is set down in the +guidebooks as the Biarritz or the Brighton of Spain. It has of course a +new quarter in the provincial-elegant style (fresh stucco cafes, barber +shops, and apartments to let), looking out upon a planted promenade and +a charming bay, locked in fortified heights, with a narrow portal to the +ocean. I walked about for two or three hours, and devoted most of my +attention to the old quarter, the town proper, which has a great +frowning gate upon the harbor, through which you look along a vista of +gaudy house fronts, balconies, and awnings, surmounted by a narrow strip +of sky. Here the local color was richer, the manners more _naif_. Here +too was a church with a flamboyant Jesuit facade and an interior +redolent of Spanish Catholicism. There was a life-sized effigy of the +Virgin perched upon a table beside the great altar (she appeared to +have been walking abroad in a procession), whom I looked at with extreme +interest. She seemed to me a heroine, a solid Spanish person, as perfect +a reality as Don Quixote or St. Theresa. She was dressed in an +extraordinary splendor of laces, brocades, and jewels, her coiffure and +complexion were of the finest, and she evidently would answer to her +name if you spoke to her. Improving the stateliest title I could think +of, I addressed her as Dona Maria of the Holy Office; whereupon she +looked round the great dusky, perfumed church, to see whether we were +alone, and then she dropped her fringed eyelids and held out her hand to +be kissed. She was the Sentiment of Spanish Catholicism: gloomy, yet +bedizened, emotional as a woman, and yet mechanical as a doll. After a +moment I grew afraid of her, and went slinking away. After this I didn't +really recover my spirits until I had the satisfaction of hearing myself +addressed as "Cabellero." I was hailed with this epithet by a ragged +infant, with sickly eyes and a cigarette in his lips, who invited me to +cast a copper into the sea, that he might dive for it; and even with +these limitations, the sensation seemed worth the cost of my excursion. +It appeared kinder, to my gratitude, to make the infant dive upon the +pavement. + +A few days later I went back to San Sebastian, to witness a bull fight; +but I suppose my right to descant upon this entertainment should be +measured less by the gratification it afforded me than by the question +whether there is room in literature for another bull fight. I incline to +think there is not; the Spanish diversion is the best described thing in +the world. Besides, there are other reasons for not describing it. It is +extremely disgusting, and one should not describe disgusting +things--except (according to the new school) in novels, when they have +not really occurred, and are manufactured on purpose. But one has taken +a certain sort of pleasure in the bull fight, and yet how is one to +state gracefully that one has taken pleasure in a disgusting thing? It +is a hard case. If you record your pleasure, distinctly, you seem to +exaggerate it and to calumniate your delicacy; and if you record nothing +but your displeasure, you feel rather crabbed and stingy. This much I +can say, at any rate, that as there had been no bull fights in that part +of the country during the Carlist war, the native dilettanti (and every +man, woman, and child of them comes under this denomination) returned to +their previous pastime with peculiar zest. The spectacle, therefore, had +an unusual splendor. Under these circumstances it is highly picturesque. +The weather was beautiful; the near mountains peeped over the top of the +vast open arena, as if they too were curious; weary of disembowelled +horses and posturing _espadas_, the spectator (in the boxes) might turn +away and look through an unglazed window at the empty town and the +cloud-shadowed sea. But few of the native spectators availed themselves +of this privilege. Beside me sat a blooming matron, in a white lace +mantilla, with three very juvenile daughters; and if these ladies +sometimes yawned, they never shivered. For myself, I confess that if I +sometimes shivered, I never yawned. A long list of bulls was sacrificed, +each of whom had pretentions to originality. The _banderillos_, in their +silk stockings and embroidered satin costumes, skipped about with a +great deal of elegance; the _espada_ folded his arms, within six inches +of the bull's nose, and stared him out of countenance; but I thought the +bull, in any case, a finer fellow than any of his tormentors, and I +thought his tormentors finer fellows than the spectators. In truth, we +were all, for the time, rather sorry fellows together. A bull fight +will, to a certain extent, bear looking at, but it will not bear +thinking of. There was a more innocent picturesqueness in what I saw +afterward, when we all came away, in the late afternoon, as the shadows +were at their longest: the bright-colored southern crowd, spreading +itself over the grass, and the women, with mantillas and fans, strolling +up along before the mountains and the sea. + + HENRY JAMES, JR. + + + + +THE BALLAD OF CONSTANCE. + + + I. + + With diamond dew the grass was wet, + T'was in the spring, and gentlest weather, + And all the birds of morning met, + And carolled in her heart together. + + + II. + + The wind blew softly o'er the land, + And softly kissed the joyous ocean: + He walked beside her, on the sand, + And gave and won a heart's devotion. + + + III. + + The thistledown was in the breeze, + With birds of passage homeward flying: + His fortune called him o'er the seas, + And on the shore he left her sighing. + + + IV. + + She saw his barque glide down the bay-- + Through tears and fears she could not banish; + She saw his white sails melt away; + She saw them fade; she saw them vanish. + + + V. + + And "Go," she said; "for winds are fair, + And love and blessing round you hover: + When you sail backward through the air, + Then I will trust the word of lover." + + + VI. + + Still ebbed, still flowed the tide of years, + Now chilled with snows, now bright with roses, + And many smiles were turned to tears, + And sombre morns to radiant closes. + + + VII. + + And many ships came gliding by, + With many a golden promise freighted: + But nevermore from sea or sky + Came love to bless her heart that waited. + + + VII. + + Yet on, by tender patience led, + Her sacred footsteps walked unbidden, + Wherever sorrow bows its head, + Or want and care and shame are hidden. + + + IX. + + And they who saw her snow-white hair, + And dark, sad eyes, so deep with feeling, + Breathed all at once the chancel air, + And seemed to hear the organ pealing. + + + X. + + Till once, at shut of autumn day, + In marble chill she paused and harkened, + With startled gaze where far away + The waste of sky and ocean darkened. + + + XI. + + There, for a moment, faint and wan, + High up in air, and landward striving, + Stern-fore a spectral barque came on, + Across the purple sunset driving. + + + XII. + + Then something out of night she knew, + Some whisper heard, from heaven descended, + And peacefully as falls the dew + Her long and lonely vigil ended. + + + XIII. + + The violet and the bramble-rose + Make glad the grass that dreams above her; + And freed from time and all its woes, + She trusts again the word of lover. + + WILLIAM WINTER. + + + + +THE HEARTBREAK CAMEO. + + +"It is a cameo to break one's heart!" said Mrs. Dalliba, as she toyed +with the superb jewel. "The cutting is unmistakably Florentine, and yet +you have placed it among your Indian curiosities. I do not understand it +at all." + +Mrs. Dalliba was a connoisseur in gems; she had travelled from one +extremity of Europe to the other; had studied the crown jewels of nearly +every civilized nation, haunted museums, and was such a frequent visitor +at the jewellers' of the Palais Royal, that many of them had come to +regard her as an individual who might harbor burglarious intentions. She +was a very harmless specialist, however, who, though she loved these +stars of the underworld better than any human being, could never have +been tempted to make one of them unfairly her own, and she seldom +purchased, for she never coveted one unless it was something quite +extraordinary, beyond the reach of even her considerable fortune. +Meanwhile few of the larger jewelry houses had in their employ +lapidaries more skilled than Mrs. Dalliba. She pursued her studies for +the mere love of the science, devoting a year in Italy to mosaics, +cameos, and intaglios. And yet the Crevecoeur cameo had puzzled wiser +heads than Mrs. Dalliba's, adept though she was. It was cut from a solid +heart-shaped gem, a layer of pure white, shading down through exquisite +gradations into deep green, and represented Aphrodite rising from the +sea; the white form rose gracefully, with arms extended, scattering the +drops of spray from her hands and her wind-blown hair; the foamy waves +were beautifully cut with their intense hollows and snowy crests; it was +evidently the work of a cultivated as well as a natural artist; it was +not surprising that Mrs. Dalliba should insist that it could not have +been executed out of Italy. + +But Prof. Stonehenge was right too; it was a stone of the chalcedonic +family, resembling sardonyx, except in color; others, similar to it both +in a natural state and wrought into arrow-heads, had been found along +the shores of Lake Superior. This seemed to have been brought away from +its associates by some wandering tribe, for it had been discovered in +Central Illinois. The nearest point at which other relics belonging to +the same period had been found was the site of Fort Crevecoeur, near +Starved Rock, Illinois. After all, the stone only differed from the +arrow-heads of Lake Superior in its beautiful carving and unprecedented +size--and, ah, yes! there was another difference, the mystery of its +discovery. No other skeleton among all the buried braves unearthed by +scientific research at Crevecoeur had been found with a gem for a +heart--a gem that glittered not on the breast, but within a chest hooped +with human bone. Mrs. Dalliba had just remarked that she had never felt +so strong a desire to possess and wear any jewel as now; but when Prof. +Stonehenge told how the uncanny thing rattled within the white ribs of +the skeleton in which it was found, she allowed the gem to slip from her +hand, while something of its own pale green flickered in the disgusted +expression which quivered about the corners of her mobile mouth. The +cameo was a mystery which had baffled geologist, antiquarian, and +sculptor alike, for Father Francis Xavier had gone down to his grave +with his secret and his cameo hidden in his heart. He had kept both well +for two centuries, and when the heart crumbled in dust it took its +secret with it, leaving only the cameo to bewilder conjecture. + +Its story was, after all, a simple one. On the southern shore of +Michillimackinac, in the romantic days of the first exploration of the +great lakes by the Courreurs de Bois and pioneer priests, had settled +good Pere Ignace, a devoted Jesuit missionary. The old man was revered +and loved by the Indians among whom he dwelt. His labors blossomed in a +little village, called from his patron saint the mission of St. Ignace, +that displayed its cluster of white huts and wigwams like the petals of +a water-lily on the margin of the lake. Just back of the village was a +round knoll which served as a landmark on the lake, for the shore near +St. Ignace was remarkably level. On the summit of this mound the good +father had reared a great white cross, and at its foot the superstitious +Indians often laid votive offerings of strongly incongruous character. +Here he had lived and taught for many years, succeeding in instructing +his little flock in the French tongue, and in at least an outward +semblance of the Catholic religion. Even the rude trappers, who came to +trade at regular intervals, revered him, and lived like good Christians +while at the mission, so as not to counteract his teaching by their +lawless example. Here Pere Ignace was growing old, and even this +grasshopper of a spiritual charge was becoming a burden. His superior, +at Montreal, understood this and sent him an assistant. + +Very unlike Father Ignatius was Pere Francois Xavier, a man with all the +fire and enthusiasm of youth in his blood--just the one for daring, +hazardous enterprises; just the one to undergo all the privation and +toil of planting a mission; to undertake plans requiring superhuman +efforts, and to carry them through successfully by main force of will. A +better assistant for Father Ignatius could not have been found. It was +force, will, and intellect in the service of love and meekness; only +there was a doubt if the servant might not usurp the place of the +master, and the sway of love be not materially advanced by its new +ally. Indeed, if the truth had been known, even the Bishop of Montreal +had felt that Father Francis Xavier was too ambitious a character to +reside safely in too close proximity to himself; and engrossing +employment at a distance for him, rather than the expressed solicitude +for Father Ignatius, prompted this appointment. The results of the +following year approved the arrangement. The mission received a new +accession of life; its interests were pushed forward energetically. + +Father Francis Xavier devoted himself to an acquisition of the various +Indian dialects, and to excursions among the neighboring tribes. +Converts were made in astonishing numbers, and they brought liberal +gifts to the little church from their simple possessions. Father +Ignatius had never thought to barter with the trappers and traders, but +his colleague did; large church warehouses were erected, and the mission +soon had revenues of importance. Away in the interior Father Xavier had +discovered there was a silver mine; but this discovery, for the present, +he made no attempt at exploiting. He had secured it to the church by +title deed and treaty with the chief who claimed it; had visited it and +assured himself that it would some day be very valuable, and he +contented himself with this for the present, and even managed to forget +its acquisition in his yearly report sent to Montreal. Father Francis +Xavier was something of a geologist; his father was a Florentine +jeweller, and the son had studied as his apprentice, not having at first +been destined for the church. Even after taking holy orders, Father +Francis Xavier had labored over precious stones designed for +ecclesiastical decoration. His specialty had been that of a gem +engraver, and his long white fingers were remarkably skilful and +delicate. This northern region, with all its wealth of precious stones, +was a great jewel casket for him, and he became at once an enthusiastic +collector. + +Before the coming of his assistant, Father Ignatius had managed his own +simple housekeeping in all its most humble details. Now they had the +services of an Indian maid of all work, who had been brought up under +the eyes of Father Ignatius, and whom the old man regarded rather as a +daughter than as a servant. Her moccasined feet fell as silently as +those of spirits as she glided about their lodge. She never sang at her +work, and rarely spoke, but she smiled often with a smile so childlike +as to be almost silly in expression. Father Ignatius loved the silent +smile, and a word from him was always sure to bring it; but it angered +Father Francis Xavier more than many a more repulsive thing would have +done. It seemed so utterly imbecile and babyish to him, he had got so +far away from innocence and smiles and childhood himself, that the sight +of them irritated him. The young Indian girl had a long and almost +unpronounceable name. Pere Ignace had baptized her Marie, and the new +name had gradually taken the place of the old. + +One day, as she was silently but dexterously putting to order the large +upper room, which served Pere Francis Xavier as study and dormitory, she +paused before his collection of agates and minerals, and stroking the +stones, said in her soft French and Indian patois, "Pretty, pretty." +Father Xavier was seated at the great open window, looking over the top +of his book away across the breezy lake. He heard the words, and knew +that she was looking at him from the corner of her eye, but his only +reply was a deeper scowl and a lowering of his glance to the printed +page. The silly smile which he felt sure was upon her face faded out, +but the girl spoke again, and this time more resolutely, determined to +attract his attention. "Pretty stones. Marie's father many more, much +prettier--much." + +Father Xavier laid down his book. He was all attention. "Where did your +father get them?" he asked. + +"In the mountains climb, in the mines dig, in the lake dive, he seek +them all the time summer." + +"What does he do with them?" + +"Cuts them like _mon pere_," and Marie imitated in pantomime the use of +the hammer and chisel. "Cut them all time winter, very many." + +"What does he do that for?" asked the priest, surprised. + +"All the same you," replied the girl--"make arrow-heads." + +"Oh! he makes arrow-heads, does he? Mine are not arrow-heads, but I +should like to see what your father does. Does he live far from here?" + +"Marie take you to-night in canoe." + +"Very well, after supper." + +She had often taken him out upon the lake before, for she managed their +birch-bark canoe with more skill than himself, and it was convenient to +have some one to paddle while he fished or read or dreamed. She rowed +him swiftly up the lake for several miles, then, fastening the canoe, +led the way through a trail in the forest. The sun was setting, and "the +whispering pines and the hemlocks" of the forest primeval formed a +tapestry of gloom around the paternal wigwam as they reached it. Black +Beaver, her father, reclined lazily in the door, watching the coals of +the little fire in front of his tent. He was always lazy. It was +difficult to believe that he ever climbed or dug or dived for agates as +Marie had said, so complete a picture he seemed of inaction. The girl +spoke a few words to him in their native dialect, and he grumblingly +rose, shuffled into the interior of the wigwam, and brought out two +baskets. One was a shallow tray filled with the finished heads in great +variety of material and color. There were white carnelian, delicately +striped with prophetic red, blood-stone deep-colored and hard as ruby, +agates of every shade and marking, flinty jasper, emerald-banded +malachite, delicate rose color, and purple ones made from shells, and +various crystals with whose names Father Francois Xavier was +unfamiliar. There was one shading from dark green through to red, only +a drop of the latter color on the very tip of the arrow where blood +would first kiss blood. Father Xavier looked at it in wondering +admiration, and at last asked Black Beaver what he called it. + +"It is a devil-stone," replied the Indian. "More here," and he opened +the deeper basket in which were stored the unground and uncut stones, +and placed a superb gem in Father Xavier's hand. He had ground it +sufficiently to show that it was in two layers, white and green; in this +there was no touch of red, but in every other respect it was the +handsomer stone. + +"Will you sell it to me?" asked the priest. "How much?" + +The Indian smiled with an expression strangely like that of his +daughter, and put it back with alacrity in his basket, saying, "Me no +sell big devil-stone. No money buy." + +"What do you mean to do with it?" asked Father Xavier. + +"Make arrowhead--very hungry--no blood"; and he indicated the absence of +the red tint. "Very hungry--kill very much--never have enough!" + +"Then you mean to keep it and use it yourself?" + +"No," said the other. "Me no hunt game--hunt stones." + +"What will you do with it?" asked the puzzled priest. + +"Give it away," said Black Beaver--"give away to greatest----" + +"Chief?" asked Father Xavier. + +Black Beaver shook his head. + +"Friend then?" + +"No," grunted the arrowhead maker--"give away to big _enemy_!" + +"What did he mean by that?" Father Xavier asked of Marie on their way +back to the mission. And the girl explained the superstition that +Indians of their own tribe never killed an enemy with ordinary weapons, +for fear that his soul would wait for theirs in the Happy Hunting +Grounds; but if he was shot with a devil-stone, the soul could not fly +upward, but would sink through all eternity, until it reached the +deepest spot of all the great lakes under the stony gaze of the Doom +Woman. + +When he inquired further as to the whereabouts of the Doom Woman's +residence he ascertained that she was only a sharp cliff among "the +pictured rocks of sandstone" of the upper lake--a cliff that viewed from +either side maintained its resemblance to a female profile looking +sternly down at the water beneath it, which was here believed to be +unfathomable. The Doom Woman still exists. Strange to say, under its +sharp-cut features a steamer has since been wrecked and sunk, and its +expression of gloomy fate is now awfully appropriate. Marie had visited +"the great Sea Water" with her father. Nature's titanic and fanciful +frescoing and cameo cutting had strongly wrought upon her impressionable +mind, and the old legends and superstitions of paganism had been by no +means effaced by the very slight veneer of Christianity which she had +received at the mission. + +From this evening Father Xavier's manner toward her changed. Her smile +no longer seemed to irritate him, and a close observer might have +noticed that she smiled less than formerly. He talked with her more, +paid closer attention to her studies, made her little presents from time +to to time, and spoke to her always with studied gentleness that was +quite foreign to his nature. And Marie watched him at work over his +stones, spent her spare time in rambling in search of those which she +had learned he liked, and laid upon his table without remark each new +discovery of quartz, or crystal, or pebble. She had been in the habit of +making little boxes which she decorated with a rude mosaic of small +shells, and Father Xavier noticed that these gradually acquired more +taste and were arranged with some eye to the harmonies of color, while +the forms were copied with Chinese accuracy from patterns on the +bindings of his books or the borders of the religious pictures. Marie +was developing under an art education which if carried far enough might +effect great things. She even managed his graving tools with a good deal +of accuracy, copying designs which he set her, until he wondered what +his father would have thought of so apt an apprentice. + +Suddenly, one morning in midsummer, Marie announced that she should +leave them. Her father was going on a long expedition for stones to the +head of Lake Superior, and she did not know when she might return. As +she imparted this information she watched Father Xavier from the corner +of her eye, and something of the old childish smile reappeared as he +showed that he was really annoyed. + +The summer passed profitably for the Black Beaver, and he began to think +of returning to St. Ignace with his small store of valuable stones +before the fall gales should set in. He was just a few days too late. +When within sight of Michillimackinac a storm arose driving them out +upon the open lake, and playing with their canoe as though it were a +cockle shell. When the storm abated a cloudy night had set in; no land +was visible in any direction; they had completely lost their direction, +and knew not toward which point to seek the shore. Paddling at hazard +might take them further out into the centre of the lake, and indeed they +were too worn with battling with the storm to do any more than keep the +tossed skiff from capsizing. Morning dawned wet and gray, after a +miserable night; they were drenched to the skin, and almost spent with +weariness and hunger, and now that a wan and ghostly daylight had come +they were no better for it, for an impenetrable fog shut them in on +every side. Marie and her mother began to pray. The Black Beaver sat +dogged and inert, with upturned face, regarding the sky. + +The day wore by wearily; some of the time they paddled straight onward, +with sinking hearts, knowing not toward what they were going, and at +others rested with the inaction of despair. When the position of the +bright spot which meant the sun told that it lacked but an hour of +sunset, and the clouds seemed to be thickening rather than dispersing, +the Black Beaver gave a long and hideous howl. His wife and daughter +shuddered when they heard it, as would any one, for a more unearthly and +discordant cry was never uttered by man or beast; but they had double +reason to shudder; it was the death cry of their nation. + +"We can never live through another night," said he, and he covered his +face with his arms. + +"Father," said Marie, "try what power there is in the white man's God. +Say that you will give Him your devil-stone if He will save us now." + +"The priest may have it," said the Black Beaver, and he uncovered his +face and sat up as though expecting a miracle. And the miracle came. The +sun was setting behind them, and in front, somewhat above the horizon, +the clouds parted, forming a circle about a white cross which hung +suspended in the air. They all saw it distinctly, but only for a few +moments; then the clouds closed and the vision vanished. With new hope +the little party rowed toward the spot where they had last seen it, and +through the fog they could dimly discern the outlines of the coast--they +were nearing land. A little further on, and a village was visible, which +gained a more and more familiar aspect as they approached. Night settled +down before they reached it, but ere their feet touched the land they +had recognized the mission of St. Ignace. The cross was not a vision. +The clouds had parted to show them the great white landmark and sign +which Father Ignatius had raised upon the little knoll. + +The next day the Black Beaver unearthed his devil-stone, and fastening a +silver chain to it, was about to carry it away and attach it to the +cross, which was already loaded with the gifts of the little colony; +but Marie took it from his hand. "I will give it to the good priest +myself," she said. "He may see fit to place it on the image of the +Virgin in the church." + +A few days later Marie placed the coveted stone in Father Xavier's hand; +but what was his bitter disappointment to find that she had marred the +exquisite thing by a rude attempt at a delineation upon it of the vision +of the cross. She had carefully chiselled away the milky white layer, +excepting on the crests of some very primitive representations of waves, +and within the awkwardly plain cross in the centre of the gem. All his +hopes of cutting a face upon this lovely jewel were crushed; it was +ruined by her unskilful work. Father Xavier was completely master of his +own emotions. He took the stone without remark, and hung it, as Marie +requested, about the neck of the Madonna. Each day as he said mass the +sight of the mutilated jewel roused within him resentful feelings +against poor, well-wishing little Marie. He had been very kind to her +since he had first seen the stone in the possession of her father, but +now it was worse than before. He avoided her markedly, for the smile +which so annoyed him still lighted her face whenever she saw him, and +there was in it a reproachful sadness which was even more aggravating +than its simple childishness had been. + +One day Father Xavier in turning over his papers came across an old +etching of Venus rising from the sea. The figure, with its outstretched +arms, suggested a possibility to him. He made a careful tracing of it, +took it to the church and laid it upon the stone. All of its outlines +came within the white cross; there was still hope for the cameo. All +that winter Father Xavier toiled upon it, exhausting his utmost skill, +but never exhausting his patience. His chief trial was in the extreme +hardness of the stone, which rapidly wore out his graving tools. At last +it was finished, and Father Xavier confessed to himself, in all +humility, that he had not only never executed so delicate a piece of +workmanship, but he had never seen its equal. Every curve of the +exquisite-hued waves was studied from the swell that sometimes swept +grandly in from the lake on the long reef of rocks a few miles above St. +Ignace. The form of the goddess was modelled from his remembrance of the +Greek antique. It was a gem worthy of an emperor. What should he do with +it? + +As the spring ripened into summer, ambitious thoughts flowered in Pere +Francis Xavier's soul. What a grand bishopric this whole western country +would make with its unexplored wealth of mines, and furs, and forest. +Why should he be obliged to make reports of the revenue which his own +financiering had secured to the mission, to the head at Montreal? Why +should not his reverence the Lord Bishop Francis Xavier dwell in an +episcopal palace built somewhere on these lakes, with unlimited +spiritual and temporal sway over all this country? To effect such a +scheme it would be necessary for him to see both the King of France and +the Pope. He was not sure that even if he could return to Europe +immediately, he had the influence necessary in either quarter, but the +cameo was a step in the right direction. Something of the same thought +occurred at the same time to the Bishop of Montreal. Father Xavier's +reports showed the mission to be in a flourishing condition. The first +struggles of the pioneer were over. Father Xavier must not be left in +too luxurious a position. The Chevalier La Salle was now fitting out his +little band designed to explore the lakes and follow the Mississippi +from its source to the Gulf. A most important expedition; it would be +well that the Jesuit fathers should share in the honors if it proved +successful, and if the little party perished in its hazardous +enterprise, Pere Francis Xavier could perhaps be spared as easily as any +member of his spiritual army. + +And so, in the summer of 1679, the Chevalier sailed up the Lac du +Dauphin, as Lake Erie was then called, into the Lac d'Orleans, or Huron, +carrying letters in which Pere Francis Xavier was ordered to leave his +charge for a time in order to render all the assistance in his power to +the explorers. The Bishop of Montreal could never have guessed with what +heartfelt joy his command was obeyed. Father Xavier was tired of this +peaceful life, tired of "the endless wash of melancholy waves," of the +short cool summers, and long white blank of winter; tired of inaction, +of the lack of stimulating surroundings, of the gentleness of Father +Ignatius and Marie's haunting smile. Here, too, might be the very +occasion he craved of making himself famous and deserving of reward as +an explorer. It was true that he started as a subordinate, but that was +no reason that he should return in the same capacity. Marie had served +the noble guests with pleasant alacrity, passing the rainbow-tinted +trout caught as well as broiled by her own hand, and the luscious +huckleberries in tasteful baskets of her own braiding, and Tontz Main de +Fer, the chivalric companion and friend of La Salle, was moved like +Geraint, served by Enid, "to stoop and kiss the dainty little thumb that +crossed the trencher." The salutation was received with unconscious +dignity by little Marie; once only was Pere Francois Xavier annoyed by +the absence of a display of childish pleasure in an ever ready smile. + +History tells how trial and privation of every kind waited on this +little band of heroic men--how hunger, and cold, and fever dogged their +steps; how the Indians proved treacherous and hostile; how, having +reached central Illinois after incredible exertion, they found +themselves in the dead of winter unable to proceed further, and +surrounded by tribes incited against them by some unknown enemy. A +fatality seemed to hang over them; suspicious occurrences indicated that +they had a traitor among their number, but he was never discovered. La +Salle did not despair or abandon the enterprise, but when six of his +most trusted men mutinied and deserted, he lost hope, and became seized +with a presentiment that he would never return from his expedition. +Father Xavier was his confidant as well as confessor, but he seems not +to have been able to disperse the gloom which settled over the leader's +mind. Perhaps he did not endeavor to do so. Hopeless but still true to +his trust, La Salle constructed near Peoria a fort which he named +Crevecoeur, in token of his despondency and disappointment. Leaving +Tontz Main de Fer in command here with the greater part of his men, he +set out with five for Frontenac, on the 2d of March, 1680, intending to +return with supplies to take command again of his party, and to proceed +southward. It was at this point that the most inexplicable event of the +entire enterprise occurred. Before the party divided _some one_ +attempted to poison the Chevalier La Salle. The poison was a subtle and +slow one, similar in its effects to those used by the Borgia family; the +secret of its manufacture was thought to be unknown out of Italy. +Fortunately he had taken an under or overdose of it, and the effects +manifested themselves only in a long illness. He was too far on his +journey from Fort Heartbreak when stricken down to return to it, and was +mercifully received and nursed back to health by the friendly +Pottawottamies. + +While the leader was lying sick in an Indian lodge, the knightly Tontz, +ignorant of the fate of his friend, was having his troubles at the +little fort of Heartbreak. Pere Francois Xavier had remained with him, +and aided him with counsels and personal exertions; he had made himself +so indispensable that he was now lieutenant; if anything should happen +to Tontz, he would be commander. He was secretary of the expedition, +drew careful maps, and made voluminous daily entries in a journal, which +was afterward found to be a marvel of painstaking both in the facts and +fictions which it contained. Scanty mention was there of La Salle and +Tontz Main de Fer, and much of Pere Francois Xavier, but it was clear, +explicit, depicting the advantages of an acquisition of this territory +to the crown of France in glowing terms, and strongly advising that the +man who had most distinguished himself in the difficulties of its +discovery should be appointed as governor, or baron, under the royal +authority. + +While Father Xavier was compiling this remarkable piece of authorship, +the Iroquois descended in warlike array upon the somewhat friendly +disposed Illinois Indians, in whose midst Fort Crevecoeur had been +built. The suspicious Indian mind immediately connected the advent of +their enemies with the building of the fort, and regarded the little +garrison with distrust. Tontz, at the instance of Father Xavier, +presented himself to their chief, and offered to do anything in his +power to prove his friendly intentions. The chief accepted his services, +and sent him as ambassador to inquire into the cause of the coming of +the Iroquois. This mission had nearly been his last, for Tontz was +received with stabs, and hardly allowed to give the message of the +chief. His ill treatment at the hands of their enemies did not reassure +the suspicious Illinois, who ordered Tontz to immediately evacuate the +fort and return with his forces to the country whence he had come. In +his wounded condition such a journey was extremely hazardous, and it +must have been with grave doubts as to his surviving it that Father +Xavier took temporary command of the returning expedition. + +It was the spring of 1681. Father Xavier had been absent nearly two +years. Father Ignatius missed him sadly--all the life and fire seemed to +have gone out of the mission. Even Marie moved about her work in a +listless, languid way, which contrasted markedly with her once lithe and +rapid movements. They had not once heard from the explorers, and Father +Ignatius shook his head sadly, and feared that he would never see his +energetic colleague again. The Black Beaver had slept through the last +months of winter, and, as with the general awakening of spring the bears +came out of their dens, and the snakes sunned themselves near their +holes, he too stretched himself lazily and awoke to a consciousness of +what was passing around him. In the first place something was amiss with +Marie. When she came to the wigwam it was not to chat merrily of the +affairs of the mission. She did not braid as many baskets as formerly, +and no longer showed him new patterns in shell mosaic on the lids of +little boxes. He was a curious old man, and he soon drew her secret from +her. Marie loved Pere Francois Xavier, and he had gone. + +The Black Beaver went down to the mission one evening and had a long +talk with Father Ignatius. He ascertained first that Pere Francois +Xavier really meant to return; then, with all the dignity of an old +feudal baron, he offered Marie as a bride for his spiritual son. Very +gently the good Pere Ignace explained that Romish priests were so nearly +in the kingdom of heaven that the question of marrying and giving in +marriage was not for them to consider. The Black Beaver went home, told +no one of his visit, and for several days indulged in the worst drunken +spree of which he was capable. When he came out of it he announced to +his wife and Marie that he was going away on his annual trip for stores, +but that they need not accompany him. + +Marie knelt as usual in the little church on the evening of the day on +which her father had gone away. Pere Francois Xavier had replaced the +cameo on the Virgin's breast before he went; it was a safer place than +the vault of a bank would have been, had such a thing existed in the +country. There was no one in the island sacrilegious enough to rob the +church. Marie had gazed at the stone each time that she repeated the +prayer which he had taught her. She looked up now, and it was gone. + +Half-way upon their northward route, Tontz's band were struggling +wearily on when they were met by a solitary Indian, who, though he +carried a long bow, had not an unfriendly aspect. He eyed the little +band silently as they passed by him in defile, then ran after them, and +inquired if the Pere Francois Xavier, of Mission St. Ignace, was not of +their number. He was informed that the reverend father had remained a +short distance behind to write in his journal, but that he would soon +overtake them; and he was warmly pressed to remain with them if he had +messages for the priest, and give them to him when he arrived; but the +Indian shook his head and passed on in the direction in which they told +him he would be likely to meet Father Xavier. The party halted and +waited hour after hour for the priest, but he did not come. Finally two +went back in search, and found him lying upon the sod with upturned +face--the place where he had written last in his journal marked by a few +drops of his heart's blood, and the long shaft of an arrow protruding +from his breast. They drew it out, but the arrow-head had been attached, +as is the custom in some Indian tribes, by means of a soft wax, which is +melted by the warmth of the body, and it remained in the heart. Father +Xavier had been dead some hours. They buried him where they found him, +and proceeded on their march. Tontz recovered on the way. They reached +Michillimackinack in safety, where they were joined two months later by +La Salle; and the world knows the result of his second expedition. + +Little Marie learned by degrees to smile again, and in after years +married another arrow-head maker, as swarthy and as shaggy as the Black +Beaver. There is no moral to my story except that of poetic justice. +Pere Francois Xavier had sown a plentiful crop of stratagems, and he +learned in the lonely forest that "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he +also reap." + +Meanwhile to all but you, my readers, the Crevecoeur cameo remains as +great a mystery as ever. + + LIZZIE W. CHAMPNEY. + + + + +MONSIEUR DELILLE. + +NOTE-BOOK OF A SECRETARY OF LEGATION. + + +The newspapers of Berlin announced the arrival of a superior artist, the +celebrated M. Delille of the Theatre Francais de Paris, where he had +played first parts. Born and bred in the French metropolis, it was +believed he would not only open new sources of amusement to the public, +but add elegance to the French even of the highest regions. Everybody +was talking of him. His acquisition, rendered possible only by a +_differend_ with the Paris manager, was a triumph for Berlin. I was +quite curious to see him. + +One day I stepped into Rey's perfumery shop to buy some cologne water. +The rooms were crowded with fashionable ladies looking over the +glittering and fragrant assortment of _savons de toilette_, _pates +d'amandes_, _huiles essentielles_, _eaux de vie aromatisees_, etc. While +making my purchase, a very handsome fellow came in who excited unusual +attention. His toilette _recherchee_, his noble but modest air made one +look at him again and again. He spoke with Rey in a voice so harmonious +and in such French as one does not hear every day even in Paris. I +heard a lady whisper to another: "Ah, voila qui est parlez Francais +(that is the way to speak French)." The stranger was certainly +_somebody_, or so many furtive glances would not have been cast at him. +I might, by inquiry, easily have ascertained who he was, but I found a +kind of pleasure in prolonging my curiosity. The Emperor Nicholas of +Russia was daily expected. He was supposed to be the handsomest man in +the world. But he was six feet two, taller than this person. The Grand +Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin had arrived the previous afternoon; but, it +seemed to me, no German could speak French with just that modulation. +The Prince de Joinville was expected. Perhaps it was he. + +"Will you kindly give yourself the trouble to send the box to M. +Delille, Friedrich strasse 30?" + +Ah ha! _Le voila!_ There was my man. Strange I had not thought of him. + +I had a season ticket at the French theatre for the purpose of learning +French, and I had been as much entertained as instructed (I mean +instructed in the language). Every one knows a Frenchman can infuse airy +elegance into a button, bestow a marketable value upon a straw, breathe +_esprit_ into a feather, and make ten dishes out of a nettle-top. So the +poet can transform any incident into an attractive vaudeville. The +tender _situation dramatique_, the humorous _coup de theatre_, _the jeu +d'esprit_ sparkling up into music, the elevated sentiment, the merciless +exposure of vice and folly, the purest and noblest morality, largely +mixed with an ostentatious ridicule of every sacred truth, and an +absolute disregard of every principle of decency and duty, give strange +glimpses into French social life. + +As a school for the French student, however, the theatre is a useful +institution. For French has got to be learned somehow or other. A +dancing master of my acquaintance used always to commence his course by +a short address to his class in which he remarked: "Mesdemoiselles! La +chose la plus importante du monde c'est la danse!" (the most important +thing in the world is dancing.) Perhaps he was right. In that case I +must add that the next most important thing in the world is the French +language; at least to a foreigner on the continent of Europe. Without +that you do not know anything. You are a straw man. You are a deaf and +dumb creature. Ladies gaze at you with compassion, gentlemen with +contempt, children with wonder, while waiters quiz you, cheat you, and +make the imaginary mill behind your back. + +Impressed with the inconvenience of this position, I had long ago +commenced a siege of the French language. I studied it _a fond_. I +looked into every _y_ and _en_. I had attended the French theatre as a +school, and profited by the performances. The company was excellent, +particularly one young girl, Mlle. Fontaine. Her playing was +unsurpassable. She knew always when to go on and when to stop. Perfect +simplicity, a taste never at fault, delightful humor, a high tragic +power; to these add a lovely face, a beautiful form, grace in every +movement, a voice just as sweet as a voice could be, and you have a dim +idea of Mlle. Fontaine. In her private life, moreover, she enjoyed the +reputation of being without reproach. The whole world repeated of her +the old saying: "Elle n'a qu'un defaut, celui de mettre de l'esprit +partout!" (She has but one fault: she touches nothing without importing +to it a charm of her own.) + +When M. Delille came out, Mlle. Fontaine and he generally played +together, amid thundering plaudits of overflowing audiences. Delille +himself was a perfect artist. The French theatre was in its glory. + +One morning, hard at work in my office, I was surprised by a card, +"Monsieur Delille, du Theatre Francais." The gentleman wished to have +the honor of a few moments' conversation. + +The theatre and all the various personages of its imaginary world were +so completely apart from my real life, that I could scarcely have been +more surprised at receiving a card from Louis XIV., or hearing that the +General Napoleon Bonaparte was waiting at the door, and desired the +honor of my acquaintance. + +M. Delille entered, hat in hand, with bow and smile, as I had so often +seen him do in the theatre drawing-rooms. We had a pleasant chat. He +spoke no English, which forced upon me the necessity of exhibiting my +dazzling French. He complimented me upon it. I told him it was +principally owing to himself and to Mlle. Fontaine. This brought out the +object of his visit. He was going to be married. He had been in America, +which emboldened him to consider himself in some sort my countryman, and +to request the honor of my presence at the ceremony. + +"And the lady?" + +"_Monsieur_," he said, "_peut-on douter_? (can you doubt?) Mlle. +Fontaine! You are to come to the French church at 3. You will, then, +will you not, do us the honor to dine at our lodgings, Friedrich +strasse, No. 30?" + +I returned his own answer: + +"Monsieur, peut-on douter?" + +At the hour appointed I was at the church. I found quite an +assembly--artists, painters, sculptors, actors, critics, poets, +newspaper writers, several members of the corps diplomatique, some +officers, a few gentlemen of the court, etc. + +The bride and groom appeared very simply attired. Their deportment was +perfect. The ceremony was impressive. In a short time the holy bands had +made them one. There was no acting about either of them. M. Delille was +pale; Mademoiselle still paler. Their emotion was obviously genuine. +Some folks think when actors tremble or shed tears, it must be only +acting; and that they can get married or die as easily in the world as +on the stage. This is a mistake. Getting really married is as serious a +step to them as to you; and they know that real dying is a very +different thing from those exits which they make at the end of the +tragedy. They struggle with life, and walk forward toward death just as +do their fellow-creatures, who preach from the pulpit, speak in the +Senate, or congregate on the exchange. The rich banker; the +self-important diplomat; the general, covered with orders; the minister, +who holds the helm of state; the emperor, the queen, who deign to honor +the representation with their presence, smile when they behold +themselves reflected on the stage. But there is not so much difference, +as they are pleased to suppose, between themselves and their theatre +colleagues. Shakespeare says: + + All the world's a stage, + And all the men and women merely players. + +The question is, which of these men and women are the best? Perhaps the +theatre statesman would have administered the affairs of his country +with more wisdom; the dramatic banker would have made his money more +honestly and used it with greater discretion; the stage general would +have conducted the war with more humanity and success; and the senators, +in "Julius Caesar" and "Damon and Pythias," would have been less open to +bribery and corruption than the gentlemen who have really occupied +similar positions in the world. Perhaps, if M. Delille had been Admiral +Blank, he would have looked at his chart, and not run his ship upon that +rock in the Mediterranean on a clear summer morning. Perhaps, if Mme. +Delille had been Empress of France, she would not have striven quite so +hard to bring on the last war with Prussia. + +From the church to the lodgings of Monsieur and Madame Delille. On +passing through the entrance, in Berlin generally a way for horses and +carriages, you would scarcely expect such elegant apartments. The moment +you crossed the threshold you were in another world. Everything rich, +tasteful, new; the walls superbly papered; the woodwork painted like +snow and varnished like a mirror: Brussels carpet, then not over-common +in the richest houses; lounges, _chaises longues_, sofas, divans; a +strong smell of Russia binding from splendid volumes on the table, and +gleaming from mahogany book-cases; beautiful paintings and engravings; a +lavish display of clocks on tables and writing-desks; one, looking down +from a loftier pedestal, clicked audibly the seconds and struck the +quarters with a solemn sound, like the booming of some far-off old +cathedral bell hanging in the clouds. Everything told of the new married +man: everything new, bright, unexceptionable, faultless, perfect--like +the new wife, the new husband, the new affection, the new hopes, yet +unexposed to the wear and tear of years. + +I was among the first. My host and hostess awaited their guests. +Mademoiselle--I beg her pardon--madame received me with graceful +cordiality. The company immediately began to appear, principally +performers whose faces I had never seen before, except on the stage, +associated with incidents, words, actions, intrigues, and scenes of the +poet's imagination. I enjoyed as if I had been a boy, recognizing the +various characters whose pranks, joys, and sorrows I had followed with +so much interest: the wicked "jeune homme a la mode," the bewitching +"femme de chambre," the _vieux_ "general sous l'empire," the rich +_banquier de Paris_, the handsome, dangerous _guardien_, the naughty +husband who had exclaimed, "Ciel ma femme!" the jealous lover, the +hard-hearted landlord, and the _comique_ of the troupe, upon whose +mobile face I could scarcely look without laughing when he asked me: +"Voulez-vous bien avoir la bonte de passer le sel?" There were present +several from the court: the Marquis de B----, who in private theatricals +at the King's had distinguished himself; M. le Comte de S----, supposed +to be a little _impressionne_ by Mlle. Zoe, the last successful +debutante, and now among the guests. + +Mme. Delille looked like a lady born, and did the honors of her house +like one. The servant announced the dinner, and we adjourned to the +dining-room. + +The dinner was _on ne peut pas mieux_. I sat between the lady of the +house and Mlle. Zoe. One of the French arts is that of placing people at +ease in society. It is not uncommon to meet persons not wanting in +intelligence, yet who, unless you draw them out, will simply remain in +the whole evening. My charming neighbors drew me out immediately. They +possessed a magnetism which made talking, and in one's best style, as +easy as flying to a bird. Mlle. Zoe said a great many brilliant and +surprising things; but Mme. Delille's manners and conversation were far +superior. I found in her a thoughtful, cultivated, balanced mind, +inspiring genuine esteem. I was struck by her views of political events +and characters. She touched lightly and skilfully upon various +personages with wisdom and humor, but with charity. She referred to her +own position in life as an actress in a way which interested me +extremely, and she found opportunity amid the miscellaneous conversation +to relate her history, and how she came to adopt a profession contrary +to her taste; and a more touching story I never heard. The conversation +even ascended to higher subjects. I was not a little astonished to find +in a young and universally flattered French actress a noble-minded, +superior woman, who had suffered deeply, and thought seriously and +spiritually upon subjects generally considered irreconcileable with her +profession. + +The dinner was finished; the nuts and the jokes were cracked; the cafe, +the chasse-cafe, the enigmas, the conundrums, the anecdotes, the songs, +the _tableaux-vivants_ followed each other. My amiable hostess seemed to +think I must have had enough of it, and, with her graceful +acquiescence, I stole out after a confidential pantomimic leave-taking +with her and my host. + +I became subsequently well acquainted with Monsieur and Madame Delille, +and have seldom known more interesting persons. Occasionally they +invited me to a quiet family dinner, where I always met one or two +distinguished guests; and sometimes I had the pleasure of having them at +my house in a quiet way. They both rose more and more in my esteem the +more I observed their inner life and character. As years rolled on, my +visits were enlivened by the sight of small drums, trumpets, horses with +their tails pulled out, and dolls with their noses knocked off. +Sometimes very pretty little cherubs peeped in at the door, or were +invited for half an hour to the dinner table. + +The world went on with its ways. More than one throne was vacated and +filled anew. Great knotty questions of diplomacy rose and disappeared. +Mehemet Ali, M. Thiers, the King of Hanover, Metternich, the Chartist, +the anti-corn law league, Sir Robert and Mr. Cobden filled the +newspapers. Nations growled at each other like bulldogs, and we had wars +and rumors of wars a plenty. + +One day who should come in but Monsieur and Madame Delille, the very +picture of a perfectly happy man and wife. They came to bid me good-by. +He had made his fortune, wound up his affairs with the theatre, and +abandoned his profession for ever. Madame was at the summit of earthly +felicity. She spoke with inexpressible delight of the change in her +life. She had longed so often to quit the theatre, and now at last her +dream was realized. M. Delille was going to buy a cottage in the south +of France, and to be perfectly happy with his dear wife and four +children. Amid oranges, lemons, and grapes, beneath the blue summer sky, +surrounded by flowers, the waves of the beautiful Mediterranean breaking +at his feet, he intended to pass the rest of his days in unclouded +peace and joy. He had worked all his life, and now he was going to take +his reward. + +"But," said I, "did you say _four_ children?" + +"_Mais oui!_ I have four. + +"Why, it seems but yesterday that----" + +"_Comptez donc!_ Six years and six months." + +His picture of future felicity was very bright. I thought in my heart +that such plans of retirement were--but I suppressed my sermon and +congratulated him upon his prospects. Why should I disturb his happiness +even though it might be a dream? What but a dream would have been even +the realization of all his hopes? + +We parted after embracing like old friends. I had more respect for those +two than I had for a great many whose sonorous titles did not cover +qualities half so estimable, manners half so agreeable, characters half +so pure, or a sense of religion half so true and deep. + +The French theatre declined after the departure of Monsieur and Madame +Delille. I had entirely ceased attending or taking any interest in it. + +Two years passed, when one day, in a lonely part of the Thiergarten, I +met--whom do you think? M. Delille; but pale, sad, solitary, subdued. + +"Well, here I am again," said he. "All my fine dreams have disappeared. +I won't bore you with the story. The fact is--that is to say--one can +never count upon one's plans in this world. I have lost my fortune, and +accepted an invitation to become director of the Berlin French theatre. +I am to form a new company. There is a great opposition to this, and the +matter has raised up against me furious enemies. They accuse me of +everything base. You know me. You know I would not be guilty of anything +dishonorable." + +I looked into his sad, ingenuous face, and replied: + +"I am sure you would not." + +"Oh, I thank you. But the worst remains to be told. My wife--my poor, +dear wife--who had been my consolation in all this trouble! _Pauvre +Marie!_ she is very ill, and I was obliged to leave her in Paris, or to +lose all our prospects. She would have it so. This annoys me. This makes +me unhappy. With her I am proof against all troubles. Ah, monsieur, you +do not know my Marie. The most faithful, the most gentle, the purest, +the----" + +"But is she so dangerously ill?" + +"I hope not. I think not. She will be here in a few weeks. The doctor +has given me his _word of honor_." + +A couple of months more. A series of articles, in the mean time, +appeared in the newspapers against M. Delille and the new French theatre +government. The venomous shafts were launched by an able hand. Gall is +sweet compared with them. An actor is the most sensitive of human +beings. His reputation is his all. The personal malice and interest of +the writer were obvious, but the public were too busy to examine. The +crowd enjoy a battle, without caring much about the right. + +I met M. Delille a few days after the appearance of the fifth of these +articles, and expressed my indignation. His manner of viewing the +subject was really noble and more instructive to me than many a sermon. +He spoke temperately of the _desagrement_ of his position and the wisdom +of keeping on his way calmly. "An actor," he said, "is a public target. +Every one has the right to shoot at him. I cannot always forget, but I +try to forgive." + +"And your wife?" + +His face darkened. + +"Oh, I am weary. She does not get well. She lingers on. She is not +strong enough to come to me. I cannot go to her. She will not consent. +They would declare I had run away. Her short letters are full of +encouragement and consolation. Ah, if these men knew--but we must be +patient. The doctor positively assures me she is doing very well." + +Three weeks later I was again taking a walk through the Thiergarten, +wrapped in my cloak, for it was winter, when I perceived M. Delille +sitting on a quite wet bench. His face was very pale. I never saw a +sadder expression. Hoping to rally him, I said: + +"What a melancholy countenance! What a brown study! Come, I have arrived +in time to laugh to you and of it!" + +His face did not reply to my gayety. He asked after my health. + +"But you are sitting on a wet, snowy bench. You will take cold." + +"No, I shall not take cold." + +"And how," said I, "is your----" + +I paused, for I now for the first time remarked a black crape on his +hat. + +He perceived my embarrassment and relieved me. + +"My children?" + +I was silent. + +"They are very well, I thank you--they are very well." + +"Come," added he, with an effort, after covering his eyes a moment with +his hand, "what have we now? Is there _really_ to be a war?" + + THEODORE S. FAY. + + + + +INFLUENCES. + + + The southern bird, which, swift in airy speed, + Toward ruder regions wings its careless way, + Wafts from its plumage oft a floating seed, + Unheeded relic of some tropic day. + + And lo! a wonder! on the spot beneath + The tiny germ asserts its mystic power; + With sudden bloom illumes the rugged heath, + And bursts at once to fragrance, light, and flower. + + All the sad woodland flushes at the sight: + The brook, which murmured, sparkles now, and sings: + The cowslips watch, with yearning, strange delight, + The bird which shed such glories from its wings, + + Watching it hover onward free and far; + Breathing farewell with restless doubt and pain. + What were a heaven with but one only star? + Must this be all? Will it not come again? + + While the new lily, lonely in her pride, + Sighing through silver bells, repeats the strain, + Longing for sister blossoms at her side, + And whispering soft, Will it not come again? + + CHARLES CARROLL. + + + + +DRIFT-WOOD. + + + + +THE TWELVE-MONTH SERMON. + + +The year's end is traditionally the season for moralizing and +retrospect. _Eheu! fugaces anni_ is a sigh that even the Latin primer +teaches us; and though in schoolbook days calling the years fugacious +seems absurd, we catch the meaning as they glide away. To schoolboys the +man of fifty is immoderately old: thirty marks a milestone on the +downhill of life. People whom we looked upon as of great antiquity, in +childhood, turn out to have been mere striplings. I saw "old Kent" +yesterday after the lapse of thirty years, and protest he was younger +than when he rapped sepulchral silence from his resounding desk. "How +are you, Quilibet First?" he said, quite in the ancient way; he seemed +once more to brandish the ferrule on his awful throne. + +Boys always call schoolmasters and sextons "old," irrespective of their +years. Clerks in the shop style their employer "the old gentleman" +without meaning to impute antiquity. Gray-haired diggers and pounders +speak of their overseer as "the old man," even though he be a +rosy-cheeked youth of two-and-twenty. Lexicographers should look to +this. "Old" evidently means sometimes "having independent authority," +and does not necessarily signify either lack of freshness or being +stricken in years. Thus Philip Festus Bailey's dictum, that "we live in +deeds, not years," is borne out by common parlance, and future +Worcesters and Websters must make a note of it. + +Whoever, also, reaches a fixed position of authority, seems (rightly +enough, as the world goes) to have achieved success in life. This +measurement of success by the kind of occupation one follows begins with +us in short clothes. Mary's ambition is to be "either a milliner, a +queen, or a cook;" the ideal of Augustus is a woodchopper, killing bears +when they attack him at his work, and living in a hut. The sons of +confectioners must be marvels if they grow up alike unspoiled in morals +by the universal envy of comrades, and unspoiled in teeth by the +parental sugar-plums. People of older growth attach childish importance +to the trade one plies. Nobs and nabobs (at least on the stage) +disinherit daughters offhand for marrying grocers, and groan over sons +who take to high art. The smug and prudent citizen shudders at the +career of the filibuster, while the adventurer would commit suicide +rather than achieve a modest livelihood in tape and needles. The mother +of Sainte Beuve was sorely distressed at his pursuit of literature, a +career that she reckoned mere vagabondage, despite his brilliant feats +in it, until the day he was elected to the French Academy, and thereby +became entitled to $300 a year. "Then my mother was a little reassured; +thenceforth, _j'avais une place_." + +When the close of the year sets us to reckoning up how much we have made +of life, pray what is that "success" of which we all talk so glibly? It +is plainly a standard varying according to each man's taste and +temperament, his humility or vanity, and shifting as his life advances. +What to the Bohemian is success to the Philistine is stark failure. The +anchoret looks on this sublunary sphere as one of sighing, the attorney +as one of suing--there being all that difference betwixt law and gospel. +Sixty years cannot see life through the eyes of sixteen. When men, +fearing to measure themselves, seek the judgment of their fellows, +adulation or affection may lead astray. In the year's retrospect of +science, touching the solar eclipse it is said: "Cape Flattery is our +northwestern cape, and there occurred the largest obscuration of the sun +in the United States." "Cape Flattery," I fear, is the locus of largest +obscuration for the United States every year, and was particularly so in +the past twelvemonth of jubilee and gratulation; and what the mantle of +flattery is for the sunlight of truth in the nation it is in the +individual. In politics, at any rate, the centennial year is closing +with some reproof of our all-summer conceit. Our frame of government is +not so flawless as we fancied; the pharisaic contrast we drew between +our politics and those of other nations is no longer so effective. + +And with men as with nations, a ray of clear light reveals the shams and +shortcomings of what is hastily styled success. The pushing, elbowing +fellow gets ahead in the struggle of life, but his success is a +questionable one. The bargaining man, who, partly by instinct and partly +by practice, judges everything from the point of view, "How is that +going to affect me?" will no doubt make money. Even his most +disinterested advice pivots on the thought, "What will pay me best?" as +the magnet surely wheels to the pole. But when all is done, to have +achieved this artistic perfection of self-seeking is a sorry account to +give of life. + +Thus, the very successes on which we plume ourselves are sometimes +badges of disaster, as we ourselves may secretly know if others do not. +"When one composes long speeches," says Jarno, "with a view to shame his +neighbors, he should speak them to a looking-glass." If not a hypocrite +or a vain man, he may find himself blushing at the thought _de me fabula +narratur_. The only alteration that our satire on others may require is +to change the name of the folly or fault we lash, and then the stripes +will be merited by ourselves. The other day Temple and I listened to a +discourse of the Rev. Dr. Waddell of St Magdalen's on the perils of +novel-reading. I think the worthy doctor really refrains from that sin; +he is certainly severe on those who are given to it. "That fat man," +said Temple, as we strolled away from St. Magdalen's sanctuary, "is too +greedy, too gluttonous to listen to any cry but that of his own stomach. +His god is his belly. His indifference to the sufferings of others +amounts to a disease." + +"What disease do you call it?" I asked. + +"Fatty degeneration of the heart," replied Temple, with a laugh. On the +other hand, quite shocked at people who "make pigs" of themselves, is +Mrs. Pavanne, who starves her stomach to beautify her back, and who, I +assure you, would prefer after three days' fasting a new boiled silk and +trimmings to any similarly treated leg of mutton and capers. + +Grundy is a model of social demeanor and domesticity, but occasionally +cheats in a bargain wherever it is safe; Gregory, honest as the day, +gets tipsy. Let Gregory remember his own weakness before scorning +Grundy, and let Grundy respect the good in Gregory before holding him up +to disgrace. The question is often not whether X is a saint and Y a +Satan, but rather what road a man's indulgence takes. Is it body or +spirit that rules him--his fear, lust, vanity, gluttony, surliness, or +sloth? his humility, generosity, piety, sense of justice, sense of duty? +Is his cardinal weakness a vice or only a foible--a crime that degrades +or only a pettiness that narrows him? + +If we hold with Scripture that he who ruleth his spirit is greater than +he that taketh a city, we must not give all the laurels of success to +the mighty, wealthy, witty, and renowned. Poor John Jones, the clerk +yonder at a thousand a year, if we reckon at anything gentleness, +courage, simplicity, devotion to mother, wife, and babes, has made as +great a success of life as old Rollin Ritchie, the head of the house. +You would imagine a first use of wealth to be the liberty to pick at +will one's employees and allies, one's friends and agents, to repel the +dishonest and rebuke the impudent, dealing with those whom one chooses +to deal with, where personal choice can fairly be exercised; but such a +privilege is Utopian in business, even among men of fortune, and envied +Ritchie has little more freedom than humble Jones. Besides, the pursuit +of startling success, though it often ruins possibilities of +contentment, rarely creates them. Frederic Soulie, having had the +misfortune to gain $16,000 in one year by his pen, refused a government +place at $3,000, with leisure to write an occasional play or a novel; he +was eager to produce half a dozen plays and novels in a twelvemonth, +says a biographer, and to repeat his $16,000; and he died of work and +watching in two years more. + +We are not, in these kindly Christmas days, to cynically deny to +unpromising careers all power of recovery. Temple was telling me the +other day of this instance known to him: Honorius had an exceedingly +dissolute son, who pursued his vicious courses almost unchecked by +parental rein, until he seemed to think his iniquities the rather +fostered than forbidden. But one day a friend of both questioned the +father why he allowed his son such abused license? "Sir," replied he, +"if my son chooses to go to the devil, as he is now fast going, he alone +must take the consequences." The conversation being reported to our +young rake, he was so affected by the view of his responsibility, which +he now appreciated for the first time, as to turn back toward the way of +virtue. And as before he had conceived his father in some sort liable +for those scandalous excesses, so now, being driven from that strange +error, he chooses for himself the path of honor and usefulness. + +In judging unsuccessful lives, too, we need to make large allowance for +the unknown elements of fortune. "It is fate," says the Greek adage, +"that bringeth good and bad to men; nor can the gifts of the immortals +be refused." But we can find justification for charitable judgments +without resorting to this general theory. We discover one youth, who +promised well, ruined by a bad choice of profession, while a second, who +selected well, finds the immediate problem in life to be not personal +eminence, but providing for a wife and half a dozen children: and if he +does fitly provide for them, pray, why set down his life, however pruned +of its first ambitious pinions, as a failure? + +So, finally, our unaspiring old-year homily simply chimes in with the +traditional spirit of Christmastide--season of hopeful words and wishes, +of kindness for the struggling, of encouragement for the discouraged, of +charity for the so-called failures. + + + + +RIBBONS AND CORONETS AT MARKET RATES. + + +It is said that a Yankee has arranged to furnish foreign titles +(warranted genuine) of "earl or count for $10,000; European orders, from +$250 to $10,000; membership in foreign scientific and literary +societies, $250 and upward." The story is plausible. Impecunious princes +and potentates have been known to replenish their purses in this way, +though hitherto usually by private sale rather than market quotations. +It is not probable that our ingenious countryman has the Order of the +Seraphim or of the Annonciade at disposal, or that he can supply the +Golden Fleece to whoever will "gif a good prishe," or even that he +would pretend to furnish the Black Eagle of Prussia in quantities to +suit purchasers. He can hardly be the medium of creating many Knights of +the Garter, nor can the Bath or the St. Michael and St. George very well +be in his list of decorations "to order." But we know from the Paris and +Vienna fairs that a Cross of the Legion is obtainable by Americans of +the mercantile class; and as for the Lion and the Sun, it was an order +created by some bygone shah for the express purpose of rewarding +strangers who had rendered service to Persia; and what service more +substantial, pray, than helping to fill the Persian purse? When you come +to central and southern Europe, titles are going a-begging, and hard-up +princelets will presumably be eager to raise the wind with them. + +And there will be buyers as well as sellers. To the democratic mind a +royal star or ribbon is an object of befitting reverence. None of our +countrymen would, indeed, on purchasing a title, really ask to be +addressed as "Your lordship," or even to be familiarly called Grand +Forester or Sublime Bootjack to His Serene Highness--unless in private, +by some very much indulged servitor or judicious retainer. But though +the badge of nobility may not be worn in the streets by the happy +purchaser, for fear of attracting a rabble of the curious, he can fondly +gaze upon it in the privacy of home, or try it on for the admiration of +the domestic circle, or haply submit it to the inspection of discreet +friends. + +The case is different with the "bogus diploma" trade. Business and not +vanity is doubtless the ruling motive with the foreigners who strut in +plumage bought of the Philadelphia "university." The diploma of M. D. is +worth its price for display before the eyes of the patients waiting in +the "doctor's" office, while to Squeers of Dotheboys Hall the degree of +A. M. is good for at least three new pupils, and Ph. D. for a dozen. I +presume that in some of the foreign magazines and weekly newspapers of a +certain class, D. D. or L.L. D. has a real cash value of at least five +per cent. more in pay, or perhaps it may turn the scale in favor of an +article which, without that honorary signature, might be put in the +waste-paper basket. So long as such practical results can be had the +diploma trade is likely to flourish, with full variety offered to +buyers. + +Now, it is not impossible to turn to trade account an Order of the +Elephant, of the Iron Crown, of the Legion of Honor, or of the +Medjidieh, as probably shrewd mechanics,contractors, and tradesmen in +America and England can attest. But while this is an additional +inducement to buyers, I am sure the new industry appeals to a loftier +emotion than that of mere money-making. America, in fact, is ripe for +this improvement. The modern phrase of ambition here in America is +"social status;" and dealers in heraldry are doing a business so +thriving in coats of arms for seal rings and scented note-paper, that I +fancy it is this that has suggested the trade in noble titles. The +village of Podunk looks down on the neighboring town of Hardscrabble. +"Hardscrabble," say the scornful Podunkers, "plumes itself on its +wealth, but Podunk prides herself on her birth--on her extremely old +families!" In fact you find all over the republic people talking of +their aristocratic families, and their "refined neighborhood," and +"refined birth"--even where, after all, it may be only a case of refined +petroleum. + +Here, then, is the sphere and the opportunity for the enterprising +middleman. He appeals to a tuft-hunting instinct so deep in human nature +that the mere surface difference of republic or monarchy hardly touches +it. In a London church you will see a pew full of ladies' maids, and +presently there is a great crowding and squeezing, and a low whisper of +"make room for Lady Philippa." It is only another lady's maid joining +her friends; but they all get titles by reflection. Turn from this scene +to the New York area steps, and the artful little rascal who is peddling +strawberries, says to Bridget, who answers the bell, "Have some berries, +_lady_?" knowing that this will make a market, if anything can. The fact +is, we all like to be "Colonel" and "Deacon" and "Doctor," instead of +simple Jones, Brown, and Robinson; calling us "the judge" or "alderman" +is a perpetual titillation of a pleasant feeling. "Good morning, Mr. +Secretary," or, "I hope you are very well, State Senator," is a greeting +that carries a kind of homage with it; and from that you go upward in +titular recognition of official eminence until you come to "His Great +Glorious and most Excellent Majesty, who reigns over the Kingdoms of +Thunaparanta and Tampadipa and all the Umbrella-Bearing Chiefs of the +Eastern Country, the King of the Rising Sun, Lord of the Celestial +Elephants, Master of Many White Elephants, the Great Chief of +Righteousness, King of Burmah." + +_Macte virtute_ I would say, then, to the peddlers of stars, crosses, +garters, and A. S. S.'s. There are poverty-stricken principalities and +hard-up beys and khedives enough to find ribbons for a thousand American +buttonholes, and to turn ten thousand of our exemplary fellow citizens +to chevaliers. An envious public sentiment might prevent the wearing of +all the ribbons and crosses that a liberal man of means could buy; but +decorations, like doorplates, are "so handy to have in the house." The +centennial year, by bringing to our shores a shoal of titled personages, +has presumably whetted the appetite of our people for heraldic +distinctions. But for years before we had even the village tailor +appearing occasionally in the local newspaper as Sir Knight Shears, and +the apothecary as Most Worthy Grand Commander and Puissant Potentate +Senna. If it is pleasant for Bobby Shears and Sammy Senna to be knighted +by their cronies and customers, how much more agreeable to the American +mind a decoration and investiture from a real prince! + +The possibilities, to be sure, are limited. Aristocratic exclusiveness +confines the Garter to twenty-five persons, the Order of the Thistle is +only for Scotch nobles, and the Iron Cross of Savoy is purely Italian; +military or naval services are required for the St. George of Russia and +the Victoria Cross; and it is to be feared that some sort of illustrious +services would be needed even for the Leopold of Belgium, the Iron Cross +of Prussia, the St. James of Spain, or the Tower and Sword of Portugal. +But in the little principalities of Germany, where the people are +ravenous for titular distinctions, there is a large supply; and as, in +fine, there are said to be sixscore orders of chivalry scattered over +both Christian and Mussulman lands, a wealthy aspirant may not despair +of reaching one or two of them without the pangs of knight errantry. + + PHILIP QUILIBET. + + + + +SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + + + + +COMPLICATIONS OF THE CHANNEL TUNNEL. + + +Baron von Weber, a distinguished English engineer, predicts that the +Channel tunnel between England and France, if constructed, will be the +cause of great annoyance to English railway managers, and bring forward +some very acute observations in support of this opinion. + +_The English railway system was a world of its own_; it was an insular +world which could hardly have been more peculiar if it had belonged to +another quarter of the globe altogether. All this, however, will change +as soon as the tunnel is pierced between England and the Continent. + +_England will then no longer be an island, but a peninsula_, and +although the isthmus which connects it with the Continent will be +submarine, its effect on the railway system will be exactly the same as +if it were a natural one. + +If the importance of the object to be attained by the Channel tunnel is +to bear any rational proportion at all to the means required, the tunnel +will be constructed only if a very considerable goods traffic between +the two shores is expected, besides the large passenger traffic. Such a +traffic, which would have to compete with sea carriage, is only possible +for goods if shifting the loads is completely avoided, and the wagons +and trucks can run from England far into the Continent and _vice versa_. +Now the English exports to the Continent far exceed the imports from it. +The English trucks, therefore, loaded with rails, machines, coals, +cotton goods, etc., will, after passing the tunnel, be scattered far and +wide on the continental railways (whose length exceeds threefold that of +the whole British system), and will have to run distances five times as +great as from London to the Highlands. + +The English railway companies, who are now able to follow their rolling +stock almost with the naked eye, who know exactly how long each truck +will take to run the short distances in their island, who can, +therefore, provide proper loads both for the up and down journeys, +hence making the best use of their stock, and who are always aware in +whose hands their trucks are, will suddenly see a great number of them +disappear out of their sight and beyond their control on long journeys +and unknown routes. They will no longer be able to calculate, even +approximately, when the stock will return. England will therefore lose +an important percentage of its rolling stock, which will be but +incompletely replaced by the foreign wagons, which will remain in +England a much shorter time on account of the shorter distances. The +deficiency will have to be made up at considerable expense. The stock +will travel as far as the shores of the Black and Egean seas, to the +east coast of the Baltic, to the southernmost point of Italy, and to the +Pyrenees; it will pass over the lines of a dozen or more foreign +companies, be brought under the influence of three or four different +legislatures, police regulations, by-laws, Government inspections, etc., +and where three or four different languages are officially in use. + +Quite new legal obligations and intricacies will appear if the companies +having to forward goods direct into foreign countries send their wagons +into the territories of different jurisdictions. It will not be of much +use if the English companies attempt formally to confine their +transactions to the French railway which joins theirs. Claims from +Turkish, Russian, Austrian, Italian, German, Belgian, and French +railways will still be brought against them, in some cases requiring +direct and immediate communication. + + + + +A TOWN OF DWARFS. + + +A writer in the London "Times" describes the effect of excessive +intermarriage on the inhabitants of Protes, a little town in the +province of Santander, Spain. Until eighteen or nineteen years ago, the +village was quite shut off from the rest of the world. Its inhabitants, +from their ever-recurring intermarriages, had become quite a race of +dwarfs. On market days the priests might be seen, with long black coats +and high black hats, riding in to purchase the simple provision for the +week's consumption--men of little intelligence and no learning, sprung +from the lowest ranks. About eighteen years ago the Galician laborers, +or Gallegos, from the mines of Galicia, swarmed into the town for +lodgings, etc., and since their colonization the population has +increased in strength, stature, education, intellect, and morality. +Their intellects, also, have improved--intellects which had been +stunted, dwarfed, and ruined by their frequent intermarriages. + + + + +WHOOPING COUGH. + + +According to Dr. Sturges, an English physician, whooping cough is not +always to be escaped by preventing contagion, for at a certain age the +disposition toward this disease is so great that the child will +originate it. He says: "Whooping cough is a nervous disease of immature +life, due immediately, like nervous asthma, to a morbid exaltation of +sensibility of the bronchial mucous membrane. Although possible in a +modified form at all ages, it has its period of special liability and +full development simultaneously with that time of life when the nervous +system is irritable and the mechanism of respiration diaphragmatic. A +child of the proper age with catarrh and cough is thus on the very brink +of whooping cough. A large proportion of such children will develop the +disease for themselves upon casual provocation, all contagion and all +epidemic influence apart." Therefore he does not think contagion plays +the important part generally supposed, and the assumption of a specific +morbid poison is in his opinion entirely gratuitous. As to treatment he +says: + +"The specific remedies for whooping cough (which have their season and +may be said now to include all drugs whatever of any potency) have all +of them a certain testimony in their favor. They agree in a single +point: whether by their nauseousness, the grievous method of their +application, or the disturbance they bring to the child's habits and +surroundings, the best vaunted remedies--emetics, sponging of the +larynx, ill-flavored inhalation, change of scene, beating with the +rod--all are calculated to _impress_ the patient, and find their use +accordingly. + + + + +BRITISH ASSOCIATION NOTES. + + +The committee appointed to test experimentally Ohm's law, that with any +conductor the electromotive force is proportioned to the current +produced, reports that this law is absolutely correct. If a conductor of +iron, platinum, or German silver of one square centimetre in section has +a resistance of one ohm for infinitely small currents, its resistance +when acted on by an electromotive force of one volt (provided its +temperature is kept the same) is not altered by so much as the millionth +of a millionth part. This fine result is the more gratifying since Ohm's +law is entirely empirical and does not rest at all upon logical +deduction. + +The vast amount of water circulating through the solid earth is shown by +the calculations of the committee on the underground waters of the +Permian and New Red sandstones. + +Taking an average rainfall of 30 inches per annum, and granting that +only 10 inches percolate into the rock, the supply of water stored up by +the Permian and New Red formations was estimated by the committee to +amount to 140,800,000 gallons per square mile per year. This rate would +give, for the 10,000 square miles covered by the formations, in Great +Britain, 1,408,000,000,000 gallons. Only a very small proportion of this +amount is made available for the supply of cities and towns. + +The subject of the chemical constitution of matter was taken up by Mr. +Johnstone Stoney, F. R. S., who amused and interested the chemical +section by a number of drawings of tetrahedra, octahedra, etc., on to +which he dexterously stuck representations of oxygen atoms, chlorine +atoms, and so on. His general endeavor seemed to be to convince his +auditors that in most basic salts oxygen is divalent, being in direct +combination with the acidifying constituent of the molecule, but that +when oxygen is not so directly related to this constituent in basic +salts it is tetravalent. + +In the geological section, Dr. Bryce observed that there are two lines +along which earthquakes are commonly observed in Scotland, the one +running from Inverness, through the north of Ireland, to Galway bay, and +the other passing east and west through Comrie. The phenomena of +earthquakes in the latter district are now being systematically +observed and recorded, under the direction of a committee appointed by +the British Association, seismometers being employed on the two +principles of vertical pendulum and delicately poised cylinders. +Arrangements have been made to ascertain whether shocks in this region +can be traced to any common central point, there being reason to believe +them to be connected with a mass of granite in Glen Lednoch, whose +position was indicated on a map exhibited by the author. He thought the +Comrie earthquakes may be explained on Mr. Mallet's theory of a shock +produced by the fall of huge masses of rock from the roof of huger +caverns in the earth's crust. + +In a paper on the plants of the coal measures, Prof. W. C. Williamson +expressed his strong conviction that the flora of the coal measures +would ultimately become the battlefield on which the question of +evolution with reference to the origin of species would be fought out. +There would probably never be found another unbroken period of a +duration equal to that of the coal measures. Further, the roots, seeds, +and the whole reproductive structure of the coal-measure plants are all +present in an unequalled state of preservation. With reference to +calamites, Prof. Williamson said that what had formerly been regarded as +such had turned out to be only casts in sand and mud of the pith of the +true plant. He had lately obtained a specimen of calamite with the bark +on which showed a nucleal cellular pith, surrounded by canals running +lengthwise down the stem; outside of these canals wedges of true +vascular structure; and lastly, a cellular bark. + +In the department of anthropology, Dr. Phene read a paper "On Recent +Remains of Totemism in Scotland." He defined Totemism as a form of +idolatry; a totem was either a living creature or a representation of +one, mostly an animal, very seldom a man. It was considered, from +reference to Pictish and other devices, that a dragon was a favorite +representative among such people of Britain as had not been brought +under Roman sway. + +Mr. W. J. Knowles read a paper "On the Classification of Arrowheads," +recommending the use of the following terms: stemmed, indented, +triangular, leaf-shaped, kite-shaped, and lozenge-shaped. Commander +Cameron, the African explorer, mentioned that arrow-heads of the same +shape as many exhibited by Mr. Knowles were in use in various African +tribes. One shape was formed so as to cause the arrow to rotate, and was +principally used for shooting game at long distances. The shape of the +arrows varied according to the taste of the makers; in one district +there were forty or fifty different shapes. + +Commander Cameron gave drawings of the men with horns, a tribe of which +has been found by Captain J. S. Hay. According to the reproductions of +these drawings by the illustrated papers, these horns are very +prominent, and project forward from the cheekbone. + +Mr. Gwin-Jeffreys, whose experience in deep-sea dredging makes his +opinion valuable, said that telegraph engineers did not sufficiently +take account of the sharp stones on the sea bottom, but assumed too +readily that they had to deal with a soft bottom only. + +Mr. John Murray of the Challenger expedition announced that meteoric +dust is found in the sea ooze, a result that follows as a matter of +course from the discovery that this cosmic dust is falling all over the +earth. + + + + +AN ENGLISH CROP. + + +The yearly trial of harvesting machines was made this year at +Leamington, and the rye grass field, where the reapers and mowers were +worked, has its history given in the "Engineer," London. "It will be +interesting if we first describe this rye grass crop and the preceding +crop. A crop of wheat was grown in this field of seven acres last year, +and by the end of September it was well cultivated and sown with rye +grass seed. Three crops before this have been cut this year, the weight +of which was about eight tons to the acre for each crop, and as the +selling price was 1s. 6d. (36 cents) per cwt., this was at the rate of +L12 ($60) per acre per crop, or L36 per acre for the three crops. Had +not the last crop been set apart for the reaper and mower trials, it +would have been cut three weeks ago, when there were again about eight +tons to the acre. As it was, however, last week the crop had gone too +much to seed, and was too much laid for being of prime quality; the +result of which is, Mr. Tough, the owner, reckons the plants are too +much spent to stand well through a second year, and he therefore +contemplates turning it over in the spring for mangolds. Mr. Tough +calculated, however, that there were ten tons to the acre this cut, and +lots of carts and vans came to take the best of it; that is, the parts +which were not laid and yellow at the bottom, at the same price, 1s. 6d. +per cwt. The carts are weighed in over a weigh-bridge, and weighed out +again after the buyers have loaded up as much as they choose or require. +We may add this is better than selling by square measure. As to the next +growth, Mr. Tough says he shall get two more fair cuts this autumn if +the weather be warm, and he expects the two together will weigh eight +tons per acre more. As there will be a certain sale for this at 1s. 6d. +per cwt., this year's yield will realize the great return of L60 ($300) +per acre. + + + + +INFLUENCE OF WHITE COLORS. + + +Prof. Wallace gave at Glasgow some curious speculations based upon the +peculiarities observable in white animals. He had been discussing at +great length and with rare knowledge the distribution of butterflies, +remarking that some of the island groups were noticeably light-colored, +and endeavored to connect their color with their environment as follows: + +Some very curious physiological facts, bearing upon the presence or +absence of white colors in the higher animals, have lately been adduced +by Dr. Ogle. It has been found that a colored or dark pigment in the +olfactory region of the nostrils is essential to perfect smell, and this +pigment is rarely deficient except when the whole animal is pure white. +In these cases the creature is almost without smell or taste. This, Dr. +Ogle believes, explains the curious case of the pigs in Virginia adduced +by Mr. Darwin, white pigs being poisoned by a poisonous root, which does +not affect black pigs. Mr. Darwin imputed this to a constitutional +difference accompanying the dark color, which rendered what was +poisonous to the white-colored animals quite innocuous to the black. Dr. +Ogle, however, observes, that there is no proof that the black pigs eat +the root, and he believes the more probable explanation to be that it +is distasteful to them, while the white pigs, being deficient in smell +and taste, eat it, and are killed. Analogous facts occur in several +distinct families. White sheep are killed in the Tarentino by eating +Hypericum Criscum, while black sheep escape: white rhinoceroses are said +to perish from eating Euphorbia Candelabrum; and white horses are said +to suffer from poisonous food, where colored ones escape. Now it is very +improbable that a constitutional immunity from poisoning by so many +distinct plants should in the case of such widely different animals be +always correlated with the same difference of color; but the facts are +readily understood if the senses of smell and taste are dependent on the +presence of a pigment which is deficient in wholly white animals. The +explanation has, however, been carried a step further, by experiments +showing that the absorption of odors by dead matter, such as clothing, +is greatly affected by color, black being the most powerful absorbent, +then blue, red, yellow, and lastly white. We have here a physical cause +for the sense inferiority of totally white animals which may account for +their rarity in nature. For few, if any, wild animals are wholly white. +The head, the face, or at least the muzzle or the nose, are generally +black. The ears and eyes are also often black; and there is reason to +believe that dark pigment is essential to good hearing, as it certainly +is to perfect vision. We can therefore understand why white cats with +blue eyes are so often deaf; a peculiarity we notice more readily than +their deficiency of smell or taste. + +If then the prevalence of white-coloration is generally accompanied with +some deficiency in the acuteness of the most important senses, this +color becomes doubly dangerous, for it not only renders its possessor +more conspicuous to its enemies, but at the same time makes it less +ready in detecting the presence of danger. Hence, perhaps, the reason +why white appears more frequently in islands where competition is less +severe and enemies less numerous and varied. Hence, also, a reason why +albinoism, although freely occurring in captivity, never maintains +itself in a wild state, while melanism does. The peculiarity of some +islands in having all their inhabitants of dusky colors--as the +Galapagos--may also perhaps be explained on the same principles; for +poisonous fruits or seeds may there abound, which weed out all white or +light-colored varieties, owing to their deficiency of smell and taste. +We can hardly believe, however, that this would apply to white-colored +butterflies, and this may be a reason why the effect of an insular +habitat is more marked in these insects than in birds or mammals. But +though inapplicable to the lower animals, this curious relation of sense +acuteness with colors may have had some influence on the development of +the higher human races. If light tints of the skin were generally +accompanied by some deficiency in the senses of smell, hearing, and +vision, the white could never compete with the darker races, so long as +man was in a very low and savage condition, and wholly dependent for +existence on the acuteness of his senses. But as the mental faculties +become more fully developed and more important to his welfare than mere +sense acuteness, the lighter tints of skin, and hair, and eyes, would +cease to be disadvantageous whenever they were accompanied by superior +brain power. Such variations would then be preserved; and thus may have +arisen the Xanthochroic race of mankind, in which we find a high +development of intellect accompanied by a slight deficiency in the +acuteness of the senses as compared with the darker forms. + + + + +AN INVOLVED ACCIDENT. + + +Though American recklessness of life is proverbial among foreigners, we +may be thankful that India-rubber bags of explosive gases are not +carried by ignorant boys through our streets, as in Newcastle, England. +The practice resulted by a singular chain of mishaps in a violent +explosion. The first error was in using a bag for conveying an explosive +gas; the second in using a _leaky_ bag; the third in the experimenter, +who put coal gas into a bag containing oxygen; the fourth in sending a +boy to deliver it. Then comes a chapter of results. The boy became tired +and stopped to rest, dropping the bag on the pavement. Just as he did so +a passer-by lit his pipe and threw the burning match down. By chance it +fell upon the innocent looking bag, and probably just at the spot where +it leaked. After the consequent explosion only two pieces of the bag +could be found, one of which was thrown through the top windows of the +bank. Even the sound wave, or wave of concussion, had a mind to +distinguish itself. It entirely missed the first floor windows of the +bank, and left them uninjured, though the windows in both the ground +floor and the second floor were broken. The wave seems to have crossed +the street, smashing the ground windows there, and then been deflected +back across the street and upward to the top story of the bank. + + + + +AN OLD AQUEDUCT SYSTEM. + + +Ancient life is not usually considered to have been very cleanly, but it +is to the credit of the Romans that as much as 2,200 years ago they made +up their minds to reject the water of the Tiber as unfit to drink. They +hunted for springs in the mountains, and in the course of a few +centuries so many aqueducts were built that Rome had theoretically a +better supply of water than any modern city enjoys. Practically, +however, the Romans suffered from a peculiar kind of water pilfering. +Instead of 400,000,000 gallons daily which the springs furnished, the +city received only 208,000,000 gallons. This immense loss, says a +careful paper by the Austrian engineer, E. H. d'Avidor, arose partly +through neglect of the necessary repairs in the aqueducts, but still +more through the water being positively _stolen_. For one of the +principal favors by which the State and the emperors were in the habit +of rewarding minor services was by granting concessions for the _lost_ +water; that is, for the water which escaped through the overflow of the +reservoirs, cisterns, and public fountains, or through the defects in +the aqueducts and mains. The consequence, of course, was that every +landed proprietor who had obtained a concession for the waste water +escaping from an aqueduct passing through his grounds was anxious to +increase this waste as much as possible--and from this wish to +intentional injury was but a step. The overseers and slaves in charge +were constantly bribed to abstain from repairing damages which had +arisen, or to cause new ones to arise, and these abuses reached such a +pitch that one aqueduct (Tepula) brought _no_ water whatever to Rome +during several years, the whole having been wasted, or rather abstracted +on its way. The irregularities of the water supply were still further +increased by the nature of the mains and distributing pipes, which, as I +have mentioned, were mere lead plates soldered into a pear-shaped +section, incapable of resisting even the most moderate pressure and +liable to injury by a common knife, so that any evil-disposed person +could tap the main almost wherever he pleased. At a later period, +indeed, the Romans appear to have used short clay pipes; lengths of such +mains have been discovered, consisting of two-feet spigot and socket +pipes carefully laid in and covered with a bed of concrete. These have +outlasted all the lead pipes, and are still frequently found in good +condition. + +In the reign of Augustus, when Rome had about 350,000 inhabitants within +its walls, there was a supply of something like 680 gallons per head; +that is, about forty times as much as the valuation for Vienna. But +there were in ancient Rome no less than 1,352 public fountains, 591 jet +fountains, 19 large fortified camps or barracks, 95 thermae or immense +public baths, and 39 arenas or theatres, all of which were supplied with +a superfluity of constantly flowing water. The reservoirs contained only +about 6,000,000 gallons, and the distribution must have been very +irregular, and it has been calculated that some houses received ten +times as much water as others. Just as the Western miner reckons the +quantity of water by the _inch_, the Roman estimated it by the +_quinarius_, or amount that could flow through a pipe of one and a +quarter _finger_ diameter, under a head of twelve inches. This would +yield about ninety-two gallons in twelve hours, and the price was so low +that the householder paid only about half a cent _per year_ for each +gallon supplied daily. Ninety-two gallons a day would therefore cost +less than half a dollar a year. (In New York it would cost nearly $18.) +But though cheap, the water was not a vested right of all citizens. The +poor had it for nothing in the ample baths, wash houses, and fountains, +but householders could only obtain the right of water supply by a +petition to the consul, and in later times to the emperor himself; even +then, however, with difficulty. It was a matter of favor and a reward +of merit, that applied only to the person to whom it was granted, not +transferable by gift or sale, and which lapsed with the death of the +owner or the sale of the house for which it had been granted. + + + + +GALVANISM CANNOT RESTORE EXHAUSTED VITALITY. + + +Dr. B. W. Richardson says that artificial respiration is a much more +effective means of restoring the drowned or asphyxiated than galvanism. +By the use of an intermittent current of galvanism it is possible to +make the respiratory muscles of an animal recently dead act in precise +imitation of life, and the heart can be excited into brisk contraction +by the same means. But the result was that "the muscles excited by the +current dropped quickly into irrevocable death through becoming +exhausted under the stimulus, and that in fact the galvanic battery, +according to our present knowledge of its use in these cases, is an all +but certain instrument of death. By subjecting animals to death from the +vapor of chloroform in the same atmosphere, and treating one set by +artificial respiration with the double-acting pump, and the other set by +artificial respiration excited by galvanism, I found that the first +would recover in the proportion of five out of six, the second in +proportion of one out of six. Further, I found that if during the +performance of mechanical artificial respiration the heart were excited +by galvanism, death is all but invariable." This results from the fact +that "the passage of a galvanic current through the muscles of a body +recently dead confers on those muscles no new energy; that the current +in its passage only excites temporary contraction; that the force of +contraction resident in the muscles themselves is but educed by the +excitation, and to strike the life out of the muscles by the galvanic +shock without feeding the force, expended by contraction, from the +centre of the body, is a fatal principle of practice." + + + + +CURIOUS OPTICAL EXPERIMENTS. + + +Prof. Nipher of the Washington university at St. Louis describes some +optical illusions, easily tried and apparently very singular, as +follows: 1. Fold a sheet of writing paper into a tube whose diameter +is about three cm. Keeping both eyes open, look through the tube with +one eye, and look at the hand with the other, the hand being placed +close by the tube. An extraordinary phenomenon will be observed. A hole +the size of the tube will appear cut through the hand, through which +objects are distinctly visible. That part of the tube between the eye +and the hand will appear transparent, as though the hand was seen +through it. This experiment is not new, but I have never seen it +described. The explanation of it is quite evident. + +2. Drop a blot of ink upon the palm of the hand, at the point where the +hole appears to be, and again observe as before. Unless the attention be +strongly concentrated upon objects seen through the tubes the ink-spot +will be visible within the tube (apparently), but that part of the hand +upon which it rests will be invisible, unless special attention be +directed to the hand. Ordinarily the spot will appear opaque. By +directing the tube upon brilliantly illuminated objects, it will, +however, appear transparent, and may be made to disappear by proper +effort. By concentrating the attention upon the hand, it may also be +seen within the tube (especially if strongly illuminated), that part +immediately surrounding the ink spot appearing first. + +3. Substitute for the hand a sheet of unruled paper, and for the ink +spot a small hole cut through the paper. The small hole will appear +within the tube, distinguishing itself by its higher illumination, the +paper immediately surrounding it being invisible. Many other curious +experiments will suggest themselves. For example: if an ink spot +somewhat larger than the tube be observed, the lower end of the tube +will appear to be blackened on the inside. + + + + +ICE MACHINES. + + +Ice machines are constructions designed to employ the heat generated +from coal in extracting the heat stored up in water at the ordinary +temperature. One ton of coal will make 15 tons of ice, and yet only +about 1 per cent. of the power used is utilized, these machines being +especially wasteful of heat. The work is done through the medium of some +volatile fluid, like ether or ammonia, or by the use of previously +cooled air. Raoul Pictet, who advocates the employment of another +fluid--sulphurous acid solution--says that every machine must comply +with five conditions: 1. Too great pressure must not occur in any part +of the apparatus. 2. The volatile liquid employed ought to be so +volatile that there will be no danger of air entering. 3. It is +necessary to have a system of compression which does not require the +constant introduction of grease or of foreign materials into the +machine. 4. The liquid must be stable, it must not decompose by the +frequent changes of condition, and it must not exert chemical action on +the metals of which the apparatus is constructed. 5. Lastly, it is +necessary, as far as possible, to remove all danger of explosion and of +fire, and for this reason the liquid must not be combustible. The only +substance, in his opinion, that answers these requirements is sulphurous +acid. This subject is a very important one. If the utilization of heat +could be carried to 3 per cent., as in most machines, it might be +possible to make ice cheaper in New York than to gather, store, and +transport it. + + + + +AMERICAN ANTIQUITIES. + + +Some months ago the telegraph announced that a Congress of Americanistes +had met in Nancy in France, and few people in this country could imagine +who the congressmen were or whether they were of this country. It was, +in fact, the meeting of a society, composed chiefly of Europeans, which +means to prosecute studies in the history, language, and character of +American aborigines. This is a laudable work. America probably offers +the most important field for ethnological study in the world. The great +extent of her two continents gave the freest scope for the complete +development of whatever capacity for civilization her people had; and +yet savagism continued here for many centuries after it had ceased in +Europe. Thus the student in going back three hundred years can penetrate +the past as far in this country as he can reach in Europe by pursuing +his inquiries back for two to three thousand years. Under ordinary +circumstances this fact would make American history much easier to study +than those of Europe where the remnants left by the savage tribes are +dimmed by an extraordinary progress or covered by the debris of +centuries of movement. But the truth is it is about as easy to learn the +habits of the ancient Britons as those of the American tribes, even the +most civilized, five centuries ago. This is partly due to the wanton +destruction of valuable records by the early conquerors and partly to +the prepossession that most men, even able ones, seem to be shackled +with; namely, that the origin of America's former inhabitants is to be +sought in some people of Asia. If they would leave that question for the +twentieth century to decide, and begin a painstaking inquiry into what +was going on in this country before its discovery, ask not _who_, but +what sort of men inhabited it, their habits and their relations, the +gentlemen who compose this society of Americanistes would probably reach +valuable results. There is plenty to occupy them. If they do not want to +grapple at once such a knotty subject as the relation of the Mound +Builders to the existing tribes, let them explore Spain for relics of +the Aztecs. It is highly probable that records of the most precious +character are still to be found there in public archives and in private +hands, the descendants perhaps of common soldiers of Cortes's army, who +were quite likely to send home during and after the Conquest things that +were odd and quaint to them and which would be invaluable to us now. As +it is, the time of the Nancy Congress of Americanistes has been too much +occupied with efforts to make the ancient inhabitants of this country a +tag to one of the numerous Asian migrations. All such attempts have been +failures, for the simple reason that we do not have facts enough to +prove _any_ theory. Still they have done some good work, and though the +subject is not of the most importance, we can but think that M. +Comettant's paper on "Music in America" before its discovery by Columbus +must have been as correct in purpose as it appears daring in subject. + + * * * * * + +Some seeds will germinate when placed between pieces of ice and kept at +a freezing temperature; and it is thought that, this method will afford +an easy means of selecting varieties of seed which will bear a cold +climate. + + * * * * * + +The explosion in the coal mines at Jabin, Belgium, last February, was +due to the ignition of fine coal powder suspended in the air. + + * * * * * + +A Vienna lady, who had been maid of honor to the Empress Maria Theresa, +lately died in that city at the age of one hundred and nineteen years. +That is certainly a well established case of longevity extending beyond +a century. + + * * * * * + +The rare metal vanadium is worth 13,000 francs ($2,600) per pound; about +eight times as much as gold. And yet vanadium is, as Dr. Hayes has +shown, a very widely diffused metal. It forms, however, only a mere +trace in most rocks. + + * * * * * + +W. Siemens has lately determined velocity of propagation of electricity +in suspended iron telegraph wires, and finds it to be between 30,000 and +35,000 miles per second. Kirchhoff had determined it at 21,000 miles and +Wheatstone at 61,900 miles. + + * * * * * + +Prof. Forel of Switzerland has proved that the water of lakes oscillates +almost constantly from one bank to another, and this not only from end +to end, but also from side to side. Thus the Swiss lakes have two +_Seiches_, as they are called, in opposite directions. + + * * * * * + +The sewage schemes have had a good many indignant critics and fervent +defenders. Of the former is Mr. Louis Thompson, who says that the sewage +discharged into seacoast harbors floats on the surface, being lighter +than salt water. Its solid portions are cast up on the shore and in +shoal places, there to become the food of animals, among which are shell +fish, that serve for man's food. + + * * * * * + +Boys' kites can be kept from plunging by making both the wood cross +pieces in the form of a bow, instead of flat. The string is placed a +little above the centre of the upright bow, and a very light tail +attached. These kites are very steady, and if a string attached to one +side of the centre is pulled after the kite has risen, it can be made to +fly as much as thirty degrees from the wind. For this reason it is +proposed to use kites for bringing a vessel to windward. + + + + +CURRENT LITERATURE. + + +Mrs. Annie Edwards's last book[K] does not open well in point of style. +The first paragraph of the first chapter is: "She was a woman of nearly +thirty when I first saw her; a woman spiritless and worn beyond her +years," etc. This beginning not only a chapter but a book with a pronoun +implying an antecedent is very bad, in the low and vulgar way of +badness. It brings to mind the superhuman daily efforts of the "American +humorist" of journalism to be funny; and it should be left to him and to +his kind. And in the next paragraph Mrs. Edwards describes her heroine +as "walking wearily along the weary street of Chesterford St. Mary." Bad +style again, and this time in the way of affectation. A man's way may be +weary if he is tired or weak; but not even then should it be so called, +when he has just been spoken of as weary himself, or as walking wearily; +and weary as applied descriptively to a village street is almost +nonsense. These defects are not important, but they arrest attention as +being at the very opening of the story. And it must be confessed that +for a chapter or two "A Point of Honor" is rather slight in texture and +commonplace. It is, however, interesting enough to lead us on, and the +reader who holds his way into the third or fourth chapter is repaid. The +authoress then warms up to her work, and begins to show her quality, +which is that of a true literary artist. We do not say a great artist, +be it observed, but a true artist. She paints only _genre_ pictures; but +unlike most works of that class (on canvas at least), they are not mere +representations of pretty faces and pretty clothes. She works with a +real knowledge of the human heart, and her work is full of feeling. She +does nothing in the grand style; even her most loving women do not have +grand passions; but all her work is truthful and warm with real life, +and her earnest people are really in earnest. The story of "A Point of +Honor" is interesting, although its incidents are not all out of the +common way. Gifford Mohun, the handsome young heir of Yatton, an estate +in Devonshire, loves, when he is only twenty, one Jane Grand, a +beautiful and sweet-natured girl who is only a year younger than +himself. Nothing is known of her history. She herself does not know her +own parentage. All this has been concealed from her at her father's +request, and with some reason; for it comes out that she is the daughter +of a felon, who died in the hulks, by a minor French actress, a +modification of whose name, Grandet, she bears. When she knows this, she +refuses to taint Mohun's name and life with such dishonor, and he +accepts her decision; doing so with two implications on the part of the +authoress: first, that he was selfish in doing so at all; next, that +doing it he did it coldly and with a false affectation of feeling. He +leaves Yatton and its neighborhood, and plunges into dissipation. Jane +remains at Chesterford, leading her solitary life and loving him. +Meantime the vicar, Mr. Follett, a man of strong nature, much +tenderness, and great tact, whose character is admirably drawn, loves +Jane, and quietly bides his time. After ten years, however, Mohun +returns, walks into Jane's parlor, and asks her to be friends with him. +She, loving him no less than ever, assents gladly, and thereafter he is +almost domesticated in her cottage. He has become somewhat gross in +manner and in speech, as well as in person; but Jane loves him, and +watches for his coming, day by day, as when she was a girl. This goes on +for some months, with a slight admixture of the curate, when all at once +a new personage appears upon the scene. Mohun receives a letter, which +he shows to Jane, and asks her advice about. It is from a Matty +Fergusson, whom he remembers as the untidy little daughter of some +disreputable people he knew something of at a German watering place. She +tells a sad tale of destitution, and asks him to recommend her to some +of his friends as a governess or companion. He is disgusted and +angered at the intrusion, and proposes to send her a five-pound note, or +perhaps ten pounds, and so end the matter. But Jane, whom he asks to +write the letter for him, is touched with pity for the poor girl's +forlornness and suffering, and writes an invitation to her to come to +Chesterford and visit her for a week. She brings a Greek horse within +the walls of her little Troy. She and Gifford expect to see a poor, +meek, limp, shabbily dressed slip of a girl; but Miss Matty Fergusson +enters the cottage a tall and magnificently beautiful young woman; her +grandeur both of toilet and person quite dwarfing the poor little +cottage and its poor little mistress. The end is now visible. Matty +Fergusson is the adventuress daughter of an adventuress mother. Nothing +was true in her letter except the story of her poverty; and she has +played this game with the direct purpose of catching the master of +Yatton. She succeeds; and when Jane speaks to him about its being time +for his overwhelming young friend to depart, he becomes rude and makes a +brutal speech, which undeceives Jane, and kills her love for him. Mohun, +however, does not give himself up to the Fergusson without an attempt at +freedom, and an endeavor to resume his relations with Jane, whom he now +appreciates at her full worth. He confesses and deplores his fault and +begs forgiveness, and offers to break with Miss Fergusson at any cost, +if Jane will give him back her love. But she, although she forgives, +will not receive him again on the old footing, and he drives off with +his handsome adventuress wife, and Jane loves and is married to Mr. +Follett. The story is told with great and yet with very simple skill, +and the characters of the few personages are revealed rather than +portrayed. And by the way, we remark upon Mrs. Edwards's ability to +interest her readers and work out a story with few materials. She rarely +depends for her effects upon more than four or five personages. She is +equally reserved in her manner. She does not paint black and white, but +with human tints only in light and shadow. In this book Mohun's +selfishness is shown with a very delicate hand, and although we are left +in no doubt as to his real character, he is dealt with in such an +impartial and artistic spirit, that some similarly selfish men will +apologize for him and some others will, it may be hoped, read +themselves in him and struggle against the worse part of their natures. +Jane is, perhaps, more angel than woman, but then a good woman who loves +is so often truly angelic with an admixture of human passion that makes +her more loveable as well as more loving than any angel ever was, that +we cannot find fault with poor Jane's perfection. In reading this book +we cannot but remark the common nature of its subject in women's novels +nowadays. The themes on which they write endless variations are the +selfishness of men, and the unselfishness of women in love. Of the men +in the women-written novels of the day, so many are plausible, +agreeable, clever, accomplished, heartless creatures; only a few escape +the general condemnation, and they are those queer creatures "women's +men"--impossible, and bores, like Daniel Deronda. The heroines, major +and minor, love devotedly. But George Eliot does not fall into the +latter blunder. For some reason she is able to see the feminine as well +as the masculine side of social and sexual selfishness. This treatment +of men on the part of the sex is remarkable, for women themselves will +admit and do admit, in unguarded moments, that there is somewhat less of +disinterestedness in this matter on woman's side than on man's. But the +point, we suppose, is this, that woman, when she does love with all her +heart, loves with a blind devotion, an exclusiveness of admiration and +of passion, and a persistency, which she demands from man, which, not +having, she doubts whether she is loved at all, and which, it must be +confessed, rare in woman, is much more rare in man, with whom indeed it +is exceptional. The truth is that man's love is as different from +woman's as his body is; but it is, therefore, none the less worth having +if she would only think so. Man is made to have less exclusiveness of +feeling in this respect than woman has. He would not be man else, nor +she woman if she were otherwise. The mistake is in her expectation of +receiving exactly the same as she gives. She has found out that she does +not get it, or does so very rarely, and the men in women's novels of the +Gifford Mohun type are one of the ways in which she proclaims and +avenges her wrongs. + +--"The Barton Experiment," by "the author of 'Helen's Babies,'"[L] +cannot be called a novel--hardly a tale--and yet it is a story--the +story of a great "temperance movement" at Barton, which is supposed to +be a village somewhere at the west--in Kentucky, we should say, from +certain local references. We do not know who the author of Helen's +Babies is--he, and Helen, and her babies being alike strangers to us; +but he is a clever writer, and a humorist, with no little dramatic +power. His personages are studies from nature, and have individuality +and life; albeit they reveal a somewhat narrow horizon of observation. +He uses largely, but always humorously, the western style of +exaggeration; as, for example, when he makes one of his reformers tell a +steamboat captain that if he will stop drinking whiskey, he will make a +reputation, and "be as famous as the Red River raft or the Mammoth +Cave--_the only thing of the sort west of the Alleghanies_." He +describes his people in a way that shows that he has them in the eye of +his imagination; as in this portrait of a Mrs. Tappelmine: "With face, +hair, eyes, and garments of the same color, the color itself being +neutral; small, thin, faded, inconspicuous, poorly clad, bent with +labors which had yielded no return, as dead to the world as saints +strive to be, _yet remaining in the world for the sake of those whom she +had often wished out of it_," etc. The book is in every way clever, and +its purpose is admirable--the lesson which it is written to teach being +that personal effort and personal sacrifice on the part of reformers is +necessary to reclaim hard drinkers. But the radical fault of all such +moral story writing is that the writer makes his puppets do as he likes. +The drinking steamboat captain yields to the persuasions of his friend, +and even submits to necessary personal restraint. But how if he had not +yielded? Old Tappelmine gives up his whiskey for the sake of money and +employment, which inducements are strongly backed by his neutral-colored +wife; but how if he had been brutally selfish and immovable? In both +these cases, and in all the others, failure was at least quite as likely +as success. People in real life cannot be managed as they can upon +paper. Still the book contains a truth, and is likely to do good. + +--The same publishers have also brought out an illustrated book by +Bayard Taylor,[M] which is suitable to the coming holiday season. It is +a collection of short tales of adventure in different parts of the +world, in which boys take a prominent part. It is one of the fruits of +the author's extended travels, and is manly, simple, and healthy--a very +good sort of book for those for whom it is intended, which, in these +days of mawkish or feverish "juvenile" literature, is saying much for +it. + +--Why Miss Thacher should call a little book, which contains a little +collection of little sketches, "Seashore and Prairie," we do not see. It +is rather a big and an affected name for such a slight thing. But it is +bright and pleasant, and well suited to the needs of those who cannot +fix their attention long upon any subject. We regret to see in it marks +of that extravagance and affectation in the use of language which are +such common blemishes of style in our ephemeral literature. For example: +a very sensible and much needed plea for the preservation of birds, is +called "The Massacre of the Innocents;" and we are told that "a St. +Bartholomew of birds has been _inaugurated_." Miss Thacher should leave +this style of writing to the newspaper reporters. + +--The large circle of readers who are interested in Palestine, and the +lands and waters round about it, will find Mr. Warner's last book of +travel[N] very pleasant reading--full of information and suggestion. He +observes closely, describes nature with a true feeling for her beauties, +and men with spirit and a fine apprehension of their peculiarities. He +is not very reverent, and breaks some idols which have been worshipped. +He is not an admirer of the Hebrews, or of anything that is theirs, +except their literature. His style is lively and agreeable, but we +cannot call it either elegant or correct. He tells some "traveller's +stories;" for instance, one about catching an eagle's feather on +horseback (pp. 103, 104). True he "has the feather to show;" but on the +whole he makes not too many overdrafts upon the credulity of his +readers, and does not color much too highly. + +--In his latest tale[O] Mr. Yates introduces American characters, +following what seems to be the prevailing fashion among English authors, +especially those who are not of the first rank. Mr. Yates manages his +foreign scenes and characters with good judgment, but his Americans we +should not recognize as such without his introduction. The scene of the +story is in England. Sir Frederick Randall, a dissolute young nobleman, +is condemned to imprisonment, under an assumed name, for forgery. Making +his escape, he woos a beautiful and innocent American girl, the daughter +of a petroleum millionaire from Oil City. As he is already married, it +is necessary to dispose of one wife before he takes another. This he +does by throwing madam over a cliff by the seashore. Caught by +projecting bushes, she is, without his knowledge, rescued alive by some +Americans, who are yachting off the coast. One of these Americans has +long loved Minnie Adams, the pretty American girl, but she and her +parents are fascinated by Sir Frederick's title and the expected +introduction to high-class English society. Minnie marries the would-be +murderer, and after a year of trouble and brutal treatment, severe +sickness ensues, during which she is nursed by her husband's first and +only legal wife. Finally Sir Frederick is murdered by an old comrade of +his debaucheries, and the two wives are equitably distributed between +the two American gentlemen. + +--Messrs. Hurd & Houghton are doing good service in reissuing the +Riverside edition of the Waverley Novels.[P] The well-chosen proportion +of page and type and the excellent work of the Riverside press have +combined to make these volumes, what American books are too apt not to +be--a thing of permanent beauty. The publishers intend to bring out the +edition quite rapidly. Five volumes are ready, and the others will +follow at the rate of one each month. The present is the great era of +mediocre men. A horde of novel writers gain their living successfully +enough, and we take them up and talk about what they are doing, and how +their works compare with each other, as if their doings had real +importance. But what are they to the enduring genius of Abbotsford? He +has not only proved an inexhaustible source of delight to two +generations of readers, but has founded an industry--the publication of +his works--which is likely to be for scores of years to come a permanent +source of livelihood to hundreds. + + * * * * * + +It is evident that we have not a new light of poetry in Mr. Voldo.[Q] He +tells us that this is a first attempt, and it may well be the last, for +he seems to have been led--and misled--into the practice of poetic +expression by a certain gift, in his case fatal, of rhythm. The flow of +his lines is far superior to the meaning or the expression. In fact the +latter is so involved and farfetched, that the former is often entirely +obscured. To find out what it is he tries to tell us would really be a +painful process, and the few attempts we have made were too immediately +fatiguing to produce any results. Two of his poems are worth reading, +one because its versification is well managed, and the other because its +story is simple and naturally told. It is a relief after so many pages +of overstraining at words, and it shows that Mr. Voldo can be really +pleasant, if he will only be simple. Well, two out of fifty is above the +average! + + * * * * * + +It is only two years since a prominent American geologist wrote to a +foreign scientific paper that he had been on the point of sending to +Germany for two or three men to assist him in an important State +survey.[R] His reason for this determination was that our country did +not possess men competent to find and follow up intelligently the +different strata; except those who were already engaged on other +surveys. Luckily this discreditable act was prevented by the sudden +abandonment of one of these other surveys, which released assistants +enough to satisfy this extremely difficult gentleman. The truth is that, +by some means, geological science has been pushed in this country with +great vigor and with grand results. Within the last ten years there has +been a revival of energy in that particular science which recalls the +golden days of Hugh Miller, Murchison, Agassiz, and Lyell. The time when +the very exacting gentleman, above alluded to, could not find helpers on +this side of the Atlantic, was the middle point around which were +grouped the surveys of Newberry and Andrews in Ohio, Clarence King in +Nevada, Whitney in California, Wheeler and Powell south of the Pacific +Railroad, and Hayden north of that line. Michigan was just finishing a +partial, but extremely productive, survey of her mineral regions. +Missouri had plunged hopefully into another. Pennsylvania was planning +the comprehensive work in which Leslie and his aids are now engaged. +Indiana, New Jersey, and other States had taken the great steps so much +desired by the initiated all over the world, and had made the geologist +a standing member of their government. All this had been done without +the _necessary_ importation of a foreigner. One or two foreigners had +obtained employment on these surveys, but only because they came here +and sought the work. Nearly every one of the young men who performed the +work of assistants was an American. It is safe to say that in this +revival of geological work from twenty to fifty young Americans have +learned to be scientific men. As to the results of their activity, it is +sufficient to read a report like that of Mr. Powell, to find how rapidly +they are adding to our knowledge of the earth's history, and even +altering the canons of scientific belief. Mr. Powell tells us that in +his first expedition, eight years ago, and for three years after that, +he tried hard to find in the west the equivalents of the State epochs +and periods so well known as the basis of geological nomenclature, and +nearly all taken from the exposures in New York and other Eastern and +Southeastern States. It was not until this attempt was abandoned that he +began to make progress. He had to study the western regions by +themselves, and leave correspondences to the future. That was the +experience of all the workers in the west, and it brings plainly to view +the great fact, of which not all, even of our best known geologists, are +yet fully persuaded, that the geological record, though doubtless a +unit, is not uniform over the whole country. These shackles thrown off, +the geology of the west leaped up with a vigor which is astonishing. It +seemed to be pretty evident, from Prof. Huxley's lectures here, that he +had not before imagined what results had been obtained in America. This +is not surprising. Few foreigners are able to keep along with the work +performed in this country, where there is such a direful supposed lack +of workers! It is a fact that at present there is no part of the world +where the discoveries made in this science are of so general importance +as here. The Rocky mountains owe their name "to great and widely spread +aridity," the mountains being "scantily clothed with vegetation and the +indurated lithologic formations rarely masked with soils." But there are +many systems of uplifts in this region, and Mr. Powell distinguishes +three in the field covered by his report. They are the Park mountains +("the lofty mountains that stand as walls about the great parks of +Southern Wyoming, Colorado, and Northern New Mexico"); the Basin Range +system (named by Gilbert from the fact that many of them surround basins +that have no drainage to the sea); and the Plateau Province. It is worth +remarking that in the west the geologist precedes or accompanies the +topographer, and accordingly has an opportunity to name the regions +according to real peculiarities rather than chance suggestions. The +future map will be significant of the past history as well as of the +ocular features of the landscape. Mr. Powell gives careful sections of +the strata in the Plateau Province, where they are about 46,000 feet +thick. Few persons imagine the vast amount of work, exploration, and +comparison which such drawings embody. The beds form a series of groups +unlike those of the New York geologists, but the great geologic ages are +as well defined as elsewhere. The synchronism remains to be fully +established by palaeontological proofs. He thinks he has been able to fix +upon the true point of division between the Mesozoic and Cenozoic ages, +and to prove that coal was deposited through about 7,000 feet of +Cretaceous and about 4,500 feet of Cenozoic beds. Mr. Powell's literary +style is excellent--not involved, but clear and energetic. He was wise +to abandon the idea of publishing an itinerary, which would, as he says, +"encumber geological literature with a mass of undigested facts of +little value." Geology has enough of such meaningless reports. As it is, +we follow him with confidence, and he gives us a story that is plain and +comprehensible. + + * * * * * + +The publications of the Massachusetts Board of Health[S] have been of a +superior character, and have given that organization decided prominence +among similar American boards. The question of how to prevent river +pollution in their State they think can best be solved by placing +advisory power in the hands of some Government officer, upon whose +conclusions legislative action for each case should be based. This +officer would be paid by the parties in interest. Good results are to be +obtained only by comparing and altering when necessary what is done. In +this country too little is known about this subject, and the appointment +of an official "with power" is the first step toward knowledge. The +suggestions made as to the way to deal with sewage are also mostly good, +but it is doubtful whether general purification can wisely be enforced +in the present state of sanitary science. If there are any very bad +cases of pollution, they may properly be provided for in the way +suggested, and experience gained from them. The lack of experience here +is partially corrected by studying the work accomplished abroad; but a +rapid review of such work can never replace the slower results of +individual experience. The report of Mr. Kirkwood, the engineer, adds to +the abundant testimony we already have of the efficacy and power of +Nature's quietest work. Analyses show that the water of Charles river +above the Newton lower falls is, when filtered, fit, though barely fit, +to drink, and yet it has received the refuse of forty-two mills and +factories, with a population of 14,000 persons known to be sewering +into the river, and a population in the basin of three times that +number. The river has a dry-weather flow of only twenty million gallons +in twenty-four hours. On the general subject of sewage utilization the +secretary concludes that in this country the sewage has no value, but +can in some places, at least, be utilized without loss. In the death +rate of Massachusetts towns the village of Canton (4,192 population) +carries the palm, with only 11.9 deaths per thousand. Holyoke, 56.5 per +thousand, has the highest. + +--The report that a city is to be built in England on strict sanitary +principles, in which man may, if he will, live to a hundred and fifty +years of age, will give additional interest to this address[T] in which +Dr. Richardson develops the project. The address was delivered a year +ago, when the Doctor was president of the Health Department of the +Social Science Association. It deserves attention because it indicates, +pretty nearly, the goal toward which all the conscious and unconscious +improvement in our living for centuries has tended. Whether man can +obtain such control over the duration of his life depends very largely +upon whether he finds himself able to submit to the discipline and +self-abnegation without which the mechanical improvements made will have +only partial success. Perfect living is not merely a thing of +appliances. These are necessary, but the subjection of the will to the +requirements of orderly conduct is equally necessary. However, Dr. +Richardson says that "Utopia is but another word for time," and it is +certain that his ideal of public and private life will be at least +approached by the slow progress of small improvements. Some people have +objected that they don't want to live a century and a half, and that a +city where men two hundred years of age might occasionally be seen +walking about is just the place they would most carefully avoid. But we +can none of us escape our fate. If society is progressing toward that +end, let us accept it, and even allow the men of science to hurry up +matters a century or two. It is, perhaps, significant that this change +in man's estate comes just at the time when a reduction in the rate of +interest is taking place, and it seems likely that a man will have to +live to a hundred years in order to accumulate enough to buy him a +house. When he has it, he will need another half century to enjoy it. At +all events read this ideal, extraordinary, and learned exposition of the +health of the future. + +--The idea of collecting in one volume a concise statement of modern +theories of the mode in which we receive impressions is excellent, and +it has been well carried out by Prof. Bernstein.[U] Touch, sight, +hearing, smell, and taste are treated from an anatomical and +experimental point of view, and the researches of Helmholtz, Weber, and +the numerous band of investigators who have in late years devised so +many ingenious modes of testing the operation of these senses are well +represented. The book contains probably as much exact and accurate +information, and as thorough a treatment of the subject, as can be +contained in a volume of this size. It is an advanced treatise that +places the reader in possession of the latest theories on these occult +subjects. Of necessity it is not new; but this treatment and the facts +here given will be found novel by most readers. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote K: "_A Point of Honor._" By MRS. ANNIE EDWARDS. 16mo, pp. 325. +New York: Sheldon & Co.] + +[Footnote L: "_The Barton Experiment._" By the author of "Helen's +Babies." New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.] + +[Footnote M: "_Boys of Other Countries._ Stories for American Boys." By +BAYARD TAYLOR. 12mo, pp. 164. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.] + +[Footnote N: "_In the Levant._" By C. D. WARNER. 12mo, pp. 374. Boston: +J. R. Osgood & Co.] + +[Footnote O: "_Going to the Bad._ A Novel." By EDMUND YATES. Boston: +William F. Gill & Co. 75 cts.] + +[Footnote P: "_Waverley Novels._" Riverside Edition. "Waverley," "Guy +Mannering," "Rob Roy," "The Antiquary." New York: Hurd & Houghton. $3.50 +per volume.] + +[Footnote Q: "_A Song of America, and Minor Lyrics._" By V. VOLDO. New +York: Hanscom & Co.] + +[Footnote R: "_Report on the Geology of the Eastern Portion of the Unita +Mountains and Adjacent Country._" With Atlas. By J. W. POWELL. +Washington: Department of the Interior.] + +[Footnote S: "_Seventh Annual Report of the State Board of Health of +Massachusetts._" Boston: Wright & Potter.] + +[Footnote T: "_Hygeia_: A City of Health." By BENJAMIN WARD RICHARDSON. +MacMillan & Co.] + +[Footnote U: "_The Five Senses of Man._" By JULIUS BERNSTEIN. +Illustrated. New York: D. Appleton & Co. (International Scientific +Series.)] + + + + +BOOKS RECEIVED. + + +"_Outlines of Lectures on the History of Philosophy._" By J. J. +ELMENDORF, L.L. D. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York. + +"_Modern Materialism; its Attitude Toward Theology._" By J. MARTINEAU, +L.L. D. The same. + +"_A Child's Book of Religion._" By O. B. FROTHINGHAM. The same. + +"_An Alphabet in Finance._" By G. MCADAM. The same. + +"_Roddy's Ideal._" By HELEN K. JOHNSON. The same. + +"_History of French Literature._" By HENRI VAN LAREN. The same. + +"_Lectures on the History of Preaching._" By J. A. BROADUS, D. D., LL. +D. Sheldon & Co., New York. + +"_Why Four Gospels?_" By Rev. D. D. GREGORY. The same. + +"_Rules for Conducting Business in Deliberative Assemblies._" By P. H. +MELL, D.D., LL.D. The same. + +"_A Young Man's Difficulties with His Bible._" By D. W. FAUNCE, D.D. The +same. + +"_A Vocabulary of English Rhymes._" By Rev. S. W. BARNUM. D. Appleton & +Co., New York. + +"_The Carlyle Anthology._" By E. BARRETT. H. Holt & Co., New York. + +"_Our Mutual Friend._" By CHARLES DICKENS. Condensed by R. Johnson. The +same. + +"_Life and Times of William Samuel Johnston, LL.D._" By E. E. BEARDSLEY, +D.D., LL.D. Hurd & Houghton, New York. + +"_Washington._ A Drama in Five Acts." By MARTIN F. TUPPER. J. Miller, +New York. + +"_Castle Windows._" By L. C. STRONG. H. B. Nims & Co., Troy, N. Y. + +"_That New World_, and Other Poems." By Mrs. S. M. B. PIATT. J. R. +Osgood & Co., Boston. + +"_Light on the Clouds_; or, Hints of Comfort for Hours of Sorrow." By M. +J. SAVAGE. Lockwood, Brooks & Co., Boston. + +"_In the Sky Garden._" By L. W. CHAMPNEY. The same. + +"_The Religion of Evolution._" By M. J. SAVAGE. The same. + +"_Student Life at Harvard._" The same. + +"_Long Ago._ (A year of Child life)." By ELLIS GRAY. The same. + +"_The Young Trail Hunters_; or, The Wild Riders of the Plains." By S. W. +COZZENS. Lee & Sheppard, Boston. + +"_Vine and Olive_; or, Young America in Spain and Portugal." By W. T. +ADAMS (Oliver Optic). The same. + +"_The National Ode._" By BAYARD TAYLOR. W. F. Gill & Co., Boston. + +"_Hold the Fort._" By P. P. BLISS. The same. + +"_The Poetical and Prose Writings of Charles Sprague._" A. Williams & +Co., Boston. + +"_Corinne_; or, Italy. A Love Story." By MME. DE STAEL. T. B. Peterson & +Bro., Philadelphia. + +"_Frank Nelson in the Forecastle_; or, The Sportsman's Club among the +Whalers." By HARRY CASTLEMON. The same. + +"_Fridthjof's Saga._ A Norse Romance." By E. FEGNER, Bishop of Mexico. +S. C. Griggs & Co., Chicago. + +"_Viking Tales of the North._" By ANDERSON. The same. + +"_Michigan Board of Agriculture._ 1875." Lansing, Mich. + + + + +NEBULAE. + + +--During the progress of the canvass for the Presidential election--in +our September number--we made a promise which seemed about the safest +that could be made, but which proved to be a rash one--so rash that at +this moment we are entirely unable to redeem it--as unable as if we had +undertaken to say which exhibitor at the Philadelphia Exhibition would +not get a medal. We said that we would give our readers accurate +information, in our December number, as to which party was likely to +carry the day. What may happen before these words are printed and laid +before our readers we cannot tell; and the experience of the past few +weeks has taught us caution as to prediction and promise, even upon +apparent certainty; but although the election is more than a month past, +_we_ do not know who is to be President, and no one is wiser on this +subject than we are. The matter is not one to be treated lightly. It is +of the gravest possible importance. No consequence of our civil war is +more serious or more deplorable than that condition of the former slave +States, which has caused this prolonged uncertainty with regard to the +result of the election, and that political state of the whole country +which has made this uncertainty the occasion of such intense and +embittered feeling, and such desperate measures by the managers of both +the great political parties. In fact, the war of secession is not at an +end. Twelve years have passed since the military forces of the seceders +surrendered to those of the Government, but the contest, or one arising +from it, prolongs itself into the present, when those are men who, when +the war broke out, were too young to understand its causes. And at the +same time we are suffering, in our prostrate trade and almost +extinguished commerce, another grievous consequence of the same dire +internecine struggle. Truly ourselves and our institutions are sorely +tried. A like combination of disastrous circumstances would bring about +a revolution in any other country. If we go through this trial safely, +we may not only feel thankful, but take some reasonable pride in the +national character and in the political institutions that will bear such +a long and severe strain without breaking. And yet we all have faith +that we shall endure it and come out in the end more stable and more +prosperous than ever. + + +--The cause of this trouble is a change in the political substance and +the political habits of the country, of which the average citizen seems +to have little knowledge and of which he takes less thought. We do not +refer to the change of the functions of the Electoral College from those +of a real electing body to those of a mere recorder of the votes of the +people of the several States, which has been much remarked upon of late +years. That change took place very early; and thus far it has been +productive of no trouble or even of inconvenience. If that were all, +there would be little need of any modification of our system of electing +the President. But there has been of later years--say within the last +half century--a change from the political condition of the country to +which the Electoral College was adapted. We are in the habit, in +patriotic moments, of lauding the wisdom and the foresight of the +fathers of the republic. And they were wise, and good, and patriotic +men; but as to their foresight, it would seem that we are to-day a +living witness that they were quite incapable of seeing into the +political future. We are now demanding that the Electoral College shall +be abolished, and the President be elected by a direct popular vote; and +yet nothing is surer than that the distinct purpose of the founders of +our Federal Union was to prevent such an election. Their design was to +establish, not a democratic government, working more or less by +mass-meeting--a direct vote of the mass of the citizens--but a +representative republican government, in which the people should commit +their affairs to their representatives, who should have full power to +manage them according to their discretion, entirely irrespective of the +dictation of their constituents, although not without respect for their +opinions and wishes. The doctrine of instruction, by which the +representative is turned into a mere delegate--a sort of political +attorney--is new and is entirely at variance with the design of the +founders of the republic, to which, of course, the Constitution was +adapted. It was supposed, assumed as a matter of course, by them that +there would always be a body of men of high character and intelligence, +who would have sufficient leisure to perform the functions of +legislators, governors, and other officers, for a small compensation, +and that the people at large would freely commit their affairs to these +gentlemen, choosing, of course, those whose general political views were +most in accordance with their own. So it was at the time of the war of +Independence, and at that of the formation of the Constitution. Of such +a political conception the Electoral College was a legitimate product. +The "Fathers" didn't _mean_ that the people should decide between the +merits of the candidates for the Presidency. They thought--and shall we +therefore decry their wisdom?--that a small body of intelligent and well +educated men, men of character and social position, accustomed to the +study of public affairs, was better fitted to choose such an officer as +the President of the United States than the whole mass of the people. +Moreover, the people themselves have changed, and have become in +substance and in condition something that the "Fathers" did not dream +of. States in which the vote of the mass of the citizens should be in +the hands of negroes or of emigrants from the peasant class of Europe +were not among the political conditions for which their foresight +provided. + + +--The great controlling fact in our politics is this one, so little +regarded not only by the general public, but by men in active political +life--the thorough change which has taken place in our society and in +the attitude of the people toward the Government. As a consequence of +this change, political power has passed almost entirely out of the hands +of the class of men to whom the framers of our Constitution intended to +commit the administration of the Government which they called into +being. It has fallen into those of men generally much inferior in +cultivation and in position. And as we have already said, the very +substance of the political constituency has changed. A suffrage +practically universal and a controlling vote in one part of the country +of emancipated negro slaves and in the other of uneducated foreign +emigrants was not the political power to which Franklin, and Jefferson, +and Hamilton and Adams, and their co-workers, supposed they were +required to adapt their frame of government. And now no small part of +our difficulty arises from the failure of a very large portion of our +people, North as well as South, to perceive or at least fully to +appreciate this change and its inevitable consequences. It is agreed by +all students of political history, that the weakness of a written +constitution lies in its inflexibility; and the error of many of our +political managers lies in their failure to appreciate this truth and +their assumption that the country is to be governed now just as it was +in the days of Washington. But the fact is that such a condition of +political affairs as now exists in South Carolina and in Louisiana would +have been not only morally but physically impossible in the earlier +years of the republic. "The people" in those States, and to a certain +extent in all the States, but chiefly at the South, has not the same +meaning that it had three-quarters of a century ago. Over the whole +country the conditions of our political problem have changed; but most +of all there; and the result is a strain upon our political +institutions, and even upon our social institutions, which taxes their +stability to the utmost. The present crisis is only inferior in its +gravity to that which preceded the attempted secession; and now as then +South Carolina takes the lead. But serious as the peril is, we shall +pass through it safely. We did not emerge safely from the greater +danger, to be overwhelmed by the less. Wisdom and firmness in the +highest degree are demanded by the emergency; but wisdom and firmness +will control it, and whatever measures may become necessary we may be +sure that they will be fraught with no peril to our liberties, or to +the stability of our Government. The nervous apprehension exhibited by +some people that any grave political disturbance and consequent +manifestation of power on the part of the central Government is likely +to end in a usurpation, and an enslavement of the American people, may +be surely characterized, if not as weak, at least as unwarranted. Think +of it coolly for a moment, and see how absurd it is. Any man born and +bred in the United States ought to be ashamed to entertain such a notion +for a moment. If we look back through the long and weary years of our +civil war, we shall find that mistakes were made on the side of the +arbitrary exercise of power, from which a few individuals suffered; but +indefensible as some of these were, according to the strict letter of +the law, we can now see their real harmlessness to the public as clearly +as we see the error of those who committed them. At no time have our +liberties been in less peril than when the President of the United +States had under his absolute command an army larger than that ever +actually controlled by any monarch (fables and exaggerations allowed +for), and when the warrant of the Secretary of War would have lodged any +man in a Federal fortress. We see now the folly of the vaticinations +against the endurance of our liberty which were uttered by many foreign +wiseacres and some weak-kneed natives. Whatever may come of our present +trouble, let us not forget the lessons of our recent experience. In +spite of any bugaboo we shall remain a Federal republic and a free +people. + + +--One accompaniment of the singular result of the election has been +sufficiently ridiculous--the daily reports of "the situation" as they +appeared in the columns and at the doors of the Republican and +Democratic newspapers. The phrase "to lie like a bulletin" has been +justified to the fullest extent. On which side lay the deviation from +truth it was impossible to say; but if one respectable journal's +assertions were true, the others surely were false. It was strange and +laughable to read on one bulletin board, "Republican Victory! Election +of Hayes! South Carolina and Florida ours by large majorities!" and then +to find only a few yards off a no less flaming announcement of +"Democratic Triumph! Tilden elected! South Carolina and Florida give +decided Democratic majorities!" And this was not only ridiculous, but +somewhat incomprehensible. For the newspapers which made these flatly +contradictory announcements at the same time and within short distances, +all equally prided themselves on their reputation as purveyors of +news--news that could be relied upon. Moreover, their means of obtaining +news are pretty well known to the public and quite well to each other. +True the "reliable gentleman," and the "distinguished member of +Congress," figured somewhat largely as the sources of those very +discrepant statements; and those persons are notoriously untrustworthy; +even more so than the "intelligent contraband" of the war times. But +after all it was a puzzle--unless, indeed, upon the assumption that +these newspapers published each of them, not what they knew to be the +fact, but what they thought their readers would like to be told; a +theory not to be entertained for a moment. Nevertheless the facts as +they presented themselves did seem to be worthy of some candid +consideration by the journalistic mind; for to mere outsiders they +seemed to point to the prudence and safety, to say the least, of more +caution and reserve of assertion, with the certainty that the +introduction of these new elements into the news department of +journalism would tend to the elevation of the profession, and would +beget a confidence in that department of our leading journals which it +may perhaps be safely said does not exist in a very high degree at +present. Possibly, however, the question may have presented itself in +this form to the journalistic mind: "If we continue to announce victory +for our own party, and it so turns out in the end, we are all right, and +we shall have pleased our readers." If the contrary, we shall merely +have to denounce the frauds of our opponents which have falsified the +truth that we told, and we shall have pleased our readers all the same." +Ingenious gentlemen. + + +--Among the humors of the election is one so significant that it should +not be allowed to pass by unrecorded. One Irish "American" was +describing to another the glories of a procession which had made night +hideous to those not particularly interested in it; and he closed the +glowing account by saying, "Oh, it wuz an illigent purrceshin intoirely! +Div'l a naygur or a Yankee int' ut!" Doubtless this gentleman would +think an election equally illigant in which neither a naygur nor a +Yankee presumed to vote. + + +--The period of the election excitement was marked also by the close of +the great Centennial Exhibition, which must be regarded as a very great +success, and which, we are pleased to record, proved far more successful +pecuniarily than we anticipated that it would. Among the grand +expositions of the world's industry this one stands alone, we believe, +in its possession of a surplus over and above its enormous expenses. +This, however, is but one witness to the admirable manner in which it +was managed. But even if it had failed in this respect, as at first it +seemed probable that it would, the money lost would have been well spent +in producing the impression which it left upon all, or nearly all, of +the intelligent foreigners whom it drew to Philadelphia. We happen to +have heard some of these, who had not only been present at other +exhibitions of the same kind in Europe, but had held the position of +judges there, say that the Philadelphia exhibition was superior to all +the others, not, it is true, in the beauty and value of the foreign +articles exhibited, but in the native productions and in the +arrangement, the system and discipline of the whole affair. The American +machinery and tools elicited the highest admiration from qualified +European judges. They found in them the results of a union of the +highest scientific acquirement with a corresponding excellence of +material and exactness in manufacture. All the tools used in the higher +departments of mechanics elicited this expression of admiration, and +with regard to those exhibited by two or three manufacturers the +approbation was without qualification and in the highest terms. This +result will be largely beneficial to our national reputation; for it was +just in these respects, science, thoroughness, and exactness, that our +foreign critics were prepared to find us wanting. + + +--The richness and variety of American slang is remarked upon by almost +all English travellers, who, however, might find at home, in the +language of high-born people, departures from purity quite as frequent +and as great as those prevalent with us, although perhaps not so gross; +for it must be confessed that most of our slang is coarse and offensive, +at least in form. But the most remarkable American peculiarity in regard +to slang, or indeed in regard to any new fangle in language, is the +quickness with which it is adopted, and comes, if not into general use, +into general knowledge. This readiness of adaptability to slang may, +however, be attributed almost entirely to the reporters and +correspondents, and "makers-up" of our newspapers, who catch eagerly at +anything new in phraseology as well as in fact, to give a temporary +interest to their ephemeral writing. Here, for example, is the word +"bulldose," the occasion of our remarks. A man who went on a journey to +South America or to Europe four months ago would have departed in the +depths of deplorable ignorance as to the very existence of this lovely +word; returning now, he would find it in full possession of the +newspapers--appearing in correspondence, in reports, in sensation +headlines, and even in leading articles. Although to the manner born, he +would be puzzled at the phraseology of the very newspaper which mingled +itself with his earliest recollections and with his breakfast; for there +he would find the new word in all possible forms and under all possible +modifications: _bulldose_, the noun, _to bulldose_, the verb, +_bulldosing_, the present participle, _bulldosed_, the past participle, +and even, to the horror of the author of "Words and their Uses," and in +spite of him, _being bulldosed_, "the continuing participle of the +passive voice." Such a phenomenon in language is peculiar to this +country. But notwithstanding the fears of the purists and the +philologers, it does not threaten the existence of the English language +here, nor is it at all likely to affect it permanently even by the +addition of one phrase or word. For our use of slang of this kind is the +most fleeting of temporary fashions. Such slang passes rapidly into use +and into general recognition, and passes as quickly out again. +Bartlett's "Dictionary of Americanisms" is full of words of this +kind--_locofoco_, for example--which lived their short lives, and then +passed not only out of use, but out of memory. While they are in vogue, +however, they deform our speech, and they tend to increase our habits of +looseness in language; and they bring reproach upon us such as that with +an allusion to which we began this item. For our reputation's sake we +should stop this; it subjects us with some reason to ridicule. But we +shall not stop, because the men who could stop it--the editors--will not +do so. Very few newspapers in the country--only two or three--are really +edited as to the language used in them; and as to slang of this sort, it +is regarded as something pleasant to the ears of the average reader, who +is supposed to think it funny. This is enough. If the readers want it, +the editors will furnish it; and so we may expect to be "bulldosed," or +otherwise dosed with some like nauseous mess of language, until +journalism has some other purpose than to pander to the lower cravings +of the moment. + + +--It is said that in the schools for girls it is now becoming the +fashion to teach the large angular handwriting which is commonly used by +Englishwomen. The announcement is welcome and surprising in one respect; +for it implies that writing is taught in schools, as to which an +acquaintance with the chirography of the rising generation justly +awakens some doubts. But as to the beneficial result of the adoption of +the style in question, that is a matter of some uncertainty. This +angular English hand is very elegant and lovely to look upon in a little +note, particularly if it assures you of the fair writer's high regard, +or asks you to dinner. But in fact it is so uncertain in its forms that +sometimes it is quite difficult to tell which is meant, the high regard +or the dinner. We have heard of one case of deplorable uncertainty. A +lady going out of town hastily on a short visit left a key upon her +husband's table with a slip of paper on which was written in the new +style a few words which after much toil and with the hint from the key, +he deciphered and read as "Key of wine closet. Please put on gin-sling." +He was amazed; for whatever his fondness might have been for gin-sling, +it was not his habit to put it on the table. Wherefore he inferred that +instead of "gin-sling" he should read "green seal," but there was none +of that brand of champagne in the wine closet. Further investigation led +him to adopt the reading, "please put on full swing." This, however, he +abandoned as not exactly a feminine exhortation in that particular +matter. Then for "gin-sling" he read "gunning," and "gun sing," and +"grinning," all of course to be abandoned in their turn. Submitted to an +expert, the elegant lines were pronounced to be unmistakably, "Key of +wine closet. Recase pat on gnu eing," not a highly intelligible letter +of instruction. Finally, in his perplexity, he remembered something that +the lady had once said upon the subject of the danger of leaving the +particular key in question lying about loose or even in an accessible +drawer, and then it flashed upon him that the writing was, or was meant +to be, "Key of wine closet. Please put on your ring." Hence it appears +that the elegant English hand is very easily read when you know what the +fair writer means to say. Observe, too, that the perplexity would have +been obviated by the introduction of a much needed pronoun--_it_. If the +lady had written, "Put it," etc., there would have been a guide out of +the labyrinth. No small part of the obscurity found in writing arises +from compression. It is better to take the trouble to write two words, +and thereby be understood, than to write one, in angular Anglican +elegance, and leave your reader in darkness. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY *** + +***** This file should be named 30415.txt or 30415.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/4/1/30415/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Carla Foust, Bill Tozier and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.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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